Political Sociology
-
I believe that while political parties can and have played a key role in shaping the relationship between social class and vote choice, they are not mainly responsible. In this essay I take a more foundational approach to the question by examining the rudimentary motivations for voters and parties shaping their political decisions/behavior. I will first briefly outline the observed relationship between social class and vote choice over the last century, then outline three core motivations for voting and how they have been shared among class demographics and changed over time, and finally decide the role of political parties is merely a secondary one.
I argue that because political parties’ decisions (policy positions, key factors etc.) are a response to underlying demographic shifts, I would consider political parties a facilitator to changes rather than a root cause or main reason. I believe that shifting social cleavages and demographics, especially in our transition to a post-materialist political landscape, is the underlying root cause of changing class voting dynamics, and political party dynamics are merely a response to and byproduct of the root cause that facilitates voting along class lines (or the lack thereof).
Relationship between social class and vote choice
The observed trend in social class and vote choice over the last century has mostly been one of class dealignment from traditional parties. Before the 1970s, Lipset and Rokkan’s freezing hypothesis (1967) posited that party systems became ‘frozen’ after the major social conflicts of the mid-20th century, leading to a stable alignment between parties and their respective social bases. Traditionally, the working class is aligned to left-leaning democratic or socialist parties, while the upper and middle classes are aligned to right-leaning conservative parties. Yet this theory is widely considered as outdated: over the last fifty years, new post- materialist cross-cutting cleavages have emerged such as globalization and immigration, environmental crises, democracy and free speech, gender and racial equality, human rights protections etc., cutting across and blurring class voting lines.
This is not to say that class is now rendered unimportant in voting: Best reports a 30% difference in chance of voting Labour between less skilled manual workers (16%) and the upper service class (46%). However, with the rise and dominance of the global middle class, new cleavages have taken precedence over traditional material-based ones along with remarkable attitude shifts, such as the prioritization of individualism and democracy.
There are some signs of class realignment, especially in the 21st century: many working-class voters, particularly in rural areas and former industrial regions, have shifted towards conservative parties driven by concerns over globalization, immigration, and economic stagnation, while some upper- and middle-class voters shifted towards democratic parties especially in more educated and diverse areas, mostly driven by concerns over social issues, albeit economic policies favoring upper and middle classes remaining attractive to some.
Note that realignment is not a phenomenon of class politics (in that voters of the same class are not motivated by class-related economic reasons anymore, although there can exist economic rationale for the similarities in reasoning along class lines e.g. those with similar education levels/access to similar educational resources as a result of economic class may hold similar attitudes), but a phenomenon of class voting (simply voting along class lines, irrespective of motivation).
Why do people vote the way they do?
I identify three fundamental reasons for why people vote the way they do: (1) voter self- interest, (2) altruistic factors, and (3) other non-rational factors such as imperfect information, political socialization and work attitudes.
The most pressing motivation for voters is the protection of their own interests (economic, social, identity, etc.) and the belief that their chosen party would do so. Weakliem plainly attributes traditional tendencies for greater support for parties of the left and vice versa to ‘simple economic self-interest’. Left-leaning parties advocate for economic redistribution, welfare benefits, trade unions, nationalization of essential corporations etc., all of which would render the working class economically better off; on the other hand, right-leaning parties advocate for laissez-faire, self-regulating free-market economies, tax cuts, economic growth, privatization of national firms etc., allowing upper classes to ‘maintain their economic advantages’.
However, as our world globalizes and gradually moves into a post-industrial, tertiarizing society, quality of life and income levels rise, and subsequently the middle class takes global precedence. As the economic self-interest so imminent in lower classes is less of an urgent pressing concern among the now-predominant middle class, the homo economicus, self- preserving motivation to support left-leaning parties diminishes in electoral relevance, especially if we take Best’s definition of electoral relevance as factoring in not just class loyalty but also class size. With that, people are increasingly motivated by altruistic interests, or general consideration of the greater good. This tends to be a trend with middle and/or upper classes voting for left-leaning or progressive parties, as people richer in cultural capital or with higher educational attainment would be more aware of post-materialist cleavages than the less well- educated.
Yet humans are obviously not fully rational nor fully altruistic: non-rational factors also have pervasive influence on voter choice. Imperfect information is a key irrational influence, marked primarily by disparities in education across social classes. For instance, the working class may be more susceptible to oversimplified narratives due to a lack of education, perhaps explaining working classes’ realignment to right-wing populist narratives. Political socialization can also heavily impact one’s values, as people tend to develop similar attitudes as those in their social circles, and are especially influenced by their family and closest peers whom all tend to be close in class status. Work attitudes can also spill over to political attitudes, as raised by Kitschelt and Rehm who show how the nature of one’s occupation (ex. Erikson and Goldthorpe’s sevenfold class schema, shown below) can impact their ‘greed’ (egalitarian vs. privileged resource distribution), ‘grip’ (libertarian vs. authoritarian governance) and ‘group’ (inclusive vs. exclusive polity) political attitudes.
Political parties’ role in shaping vote choice
However, Sartori warns that we ought not to just attempt to understand the voters’ side to gain a comprehensive, full-picture understanding of vote choice: we should attempt to understand the party as well; we want to avoid an account that is merely a ‘sociology of politics’, and ensure to incorporate a ‘politological’ perspective by understanding the motivations and mechanisms of political parties as well. Hence, I analyze political parties’ key role in shaping vote choice as the accurate targeting of and appealing to the core values, beliefs, moral systems, priorities, fears and anxieties etc. of their constituency.
Parties’ number one motivation is to seek power within a political system (Weber). They will choose the option that will enable them to do so. Traditionally this would have been to appeal to their constituent class cleavages (Lipset and Rokkan), but as we have previously seen, this is an outdated view as a result of shifting priorities and cross-cutting cleavages brought about by the global middle class. As a result of these demographic shifts, parties may alter their approach: instead of appealing to class lines, they may adopt a catch-all approach, adopting centrist policy positions that blur class lines, for which the median voter theorem clearly demonstrates how a party or candidate adopting policy positions of the median voter makes them by default a ‘Condorcet winner’. This phenomenon is effectively demonstrated by the UK Labour party’s rebranding into New Labour, or by the US Democratic Party’s moderate policy position appealing to voters across the political spectrum.
When understanding political parties’ shifts in positions, they are doing so to seek power. If it were beneficial to appeal along class lines they would have done so. But the fact that they are adopting more central approaches is indicative of a demographic shift that they must adapt to in order to capture their desired constituency.
The main contribution of political parties, then, is how they capitalize on and adapt to the dynamics of the three fundamental motivations of voting to gain power. Political parties are less able to capitalize on self-interested motivations now than before, as the self-interest factor wanes in its relevance with the rise of the global middle class, although voters’ self-interest in social aspect such as identity could be relevant. The altruism factor is mostly relevant to left- leaning parties in the capturing of upper and middle class constituencies. Political parties can utilize non-rational factors to design rhetoric that appeals to voter irrationality, particularly for populist parties as they can tap into the fears and anxieties of voters concerned with immigration issues and identity, which, coupled with (particularly less educated, working-class) voters’ imperfect information, created the perfect conditions for populist parties to capture and appeal to a large new voter base.
Yet in view of the above contributions, considering political parties are merely respondents to voters, all seem to be conditional upon voter dynamics and (subsequently) class dynamics. While political parties’ tactics can be highly influential catalysts to the changing relationship between social class and vote choice, it cannot independently shape it; it can only amplify existing dynamics, which are shaped by how shifting global demographics trigger and/or engage with people’s underlying motivations in varying ways.
-
[To be turned into a proper essay soon]
-
Introduction
Nationalism is the (political) principle that the nation should be congruent with the state. This definition of nationalism is parasitic on the definitions of nation and state: simply put, a nation is defined as a large group of people inhabiting a specific territory who are connected by culture, history, or another commonality [1], but to satisfactorily define a nation is much more nuanced than that, which we will get into in later parts; while the state is defined using the Weberian definition, a ‘human community that (successfully) claims the monopoly of the legitimate use of physical force within a given territory’ [2].
Nationalists believe that the world should be (near-strictly) organized in nation-states, where communities living in the drawn confines of some political borders are ruled by a state independent of foreign rule that strictly belongs to the nation. This is, of course, contingent on how we define ‘nation’: ethnic nationalists define nation by ethnicity, whereas civic nationalists allow more flexibility. Nationalists often get conflated with its adjacent terms (often with chauvinistic connotations); I argue we should be wary of such misconceptions.
In my attempt to clarify the concept of nationalism I will explore what a nation and state is respectively, as well as the implications and manifestations of nationalism; classify nationalism; and clarify what nationalism is not.
What is a state?
As aforementioned, we take Weber’s definition of the state − whomever is able to legitimize the use of violence over a given territory, often a group of individuals whom are able to establish some formal authority, makes ‘the state’. Gellner’s explanation [3] for the Weberian definition goes that private or sectional violence between society members is obviously illegitimate, yet in the state of nature, order cannot be maintained unless by essential force. Therefore, some central political authority may be established that specializes in the use of essential force to maintain order: that agency (or group of agencies) is the state. This state, or ‘specialized order-enforcing agencies’ as Gellner calls it, may take the form of police forces and courts, whom are importantly ‘separated out from the rest of social life’.
What is a nation?
The nation has proven to be notoriously hard to define. I take two provisional definitions of a nation from Gellner (cultural definition and voluntaristic definition) [3], a ‘imagined-community’ definition from Anderson [4], and consolidate the three as follows:
Nations are a social construct (Anderson’s imagined community) in attempt to organize a group of diverse individuals with some commonality by the extent of characteristics which they have in common.
Some characteristics are rich in categorical significance − culture being perhaps one of the most important (Gellner’s cultural definition). The sharing of common practices, traditions, etc. by virtue of living in the same region contribute strongly to the emotional attachments and formation of cultural identity that people strongly resonate with, making shared culture a good shared characteristic to define a nation.
For a cohesive nation, people should recognize each other as members of the same nation (Gellner’s voluntaristic definition).
However, national conflicts arise as people can define nationality by more stringent characteristics (e.g. ethnicity, race, religion, language) that can exclude certain members living in the same territory. These characteristics are like parameters that define the unity or diversity of a nation.
Implications of nationalism
Nationalism is a political principle. It is a form of identity politics as well as a principle of regime legitimacy (Fukuyama [5]).
Identity (why do people feel connected to their nation?)
People feel connected to their nation, and almost act and feel on the behalf of their nation because their nation is an integral part of their identity, and the criteria by which one defines a nation is often the shared characteristic that people identify with most. National identity is ‘often built around principles of ethnicity, race, religion, or language, principles that necessarily include certain people and exclude others’ [5]. Such exclusion is not inherently good nor bad, and degrees of exclusion obviously vary. However, national identity is ‘frequently formed in deliberate opposition to other groups and therefore [often] serves to perpetuate conflict even as it strengthens internal social cohesion’.
Apart from association of shared characteristics, national identity is also tied to a shared ‘national history’ in the formation of a unified nation − struggle, warfare, etc., particularly in the era of imperialism crucial to nation-building, for better or worse. Fukuyama [5] notes that state formation is always a violent process, and accredits historical amnesia, the process of forgetting or omitting violent historical events from the national narrative, as a core component to nation-state: nationalists reliant on historical amnesia may be prone to the appeal of revisionist history, which can be potentially dangerous.
Legitimacy (why be a nation-state?)
When a nation and a state are congruent, the majority of the state’s population identifies with the national culture, leading to a sense of unity and common purpose. High levels of congruence can foster social cohesion and stability, as shared identity can reduce conflict and promote a sense of belonging among citizens. A congruent nation-state may have greater political legitimacy, as its governance aligns with the cultural values and aspirations of its people, leading to stronger support for the state’s institutions and increased patriotism or civic engagement.
When the nation-state-congruence principle is violated, nationalist sentiment arises [3]. Gellner argues angry nationalist sentiment is elicited strongest especially when the rulers of a nation don’t belong to the same nation as the majority of the ruled (a ‘quite outstandingly intolerable [breach] of political propriety’ as he calls it). Nationalist movements aim to rectify national incongruence with the state. Being a congruent nation-state avoids fervent nationalist sentiments and movements that threaten the state’s legitimacy and stability.
Civic vs. ethnic nationalism
Nationalism can be classified in terms of civic and ethnic nationalism. Civic nationalism shapes national definitions around its citizens − I consider this a benign form of nationalism. The civic nationalist believes that ‘everyone who adheres to and values the institutions and civic value of the nation belongs to the nation, regardless of their ethnic origins’ [6]. Ethnic nationalism, on the other hand, cares not about values and institutions but instead only about ethnicity/descent. It is considerably more exclusionary and can take dangerous forms − I consider this form of nationalism to be malignant.
Fukuyama identifies four national-identity-building pathways:
moving borders to fit posited national identities;
moving/eliminating populations to create more homogenous political units;
cultural assimilation (wherein subordinate populations adopting dominant group’s language/customs − can happen voluntarily); and
adjusting posited national identities to fit national identities.
I believe these four routes lie on a spectrum of alignment with ethnic and civic nationalism, with (1) most aligned with ethnic nationalism and (4) most aligned with civic nationalism. It also coincides that (1) is most harmful and (4) the least − (1) involves territorial conflict/dispute, redrawing borders to align with national identities, and can lead to violence or war and (2) can lead to ethnic cleansing or forced migration, resulting in significant human suffering. The harmfulness spectrum coincides with the voluntariness spectrum: (1) and (2) are examples of involuntary nation-building involving high degrees of coercion, while (3) and (4) are more voluntary in nature. (3) can be associated with both ethnic and civic nationalism (but leans towards civic nationalism, as it may involve voluntary adoption of dominant cultural practices), and can be potentially harmful, especially to vibrant existing subordinate cultures that may be erased in the process of assimilation), but can occur voluntarily and without direct coercion. (4) is the ideal form of nationalism, as Fukuyama states ‘changing the definition of national identity to fit reality is the least coercive and most promising path to national unity’.
What nationalism is not
Nationalism is NOT just its (variable) components.
Nationalism is not national identity. National identity is important to nation building, which is important to nationalism, but nationalism absolutely requires a congruent state.
Nationalism is not patriotism. Patriotism is the (positive) sentiments, attitudes, and actions involving loving one’s country and serving the great good of all its people [7]. Nationalism is about aligning state interests with the nation.
Nationalism is not chauvinism, ethnocentrism, xenophobia, populism or supremacism. Extreme (ethnic) nationalists can be these things, but this is not always the case. The conflation of such terms arises from ingroup-outgroup dynamics: anti-immigrant sentiments arise due to a desire for a homogenous national culture − which is part of nationalism, but nationalism does not always manifest in extreme, hostile forms.
Conclusion
Nationalism is the desire for a congruent nation-state. This requires a (substantially) homogenous national identity and culture, and at the very least, nation-members (bonded by shared geographic location, culture, language, etc., criteria vary) whom recognize each other as members. Ethnic nationalists believe in a homogenous ethnicity, but this rhetoric can be especially harmful in a globalizing world (ethnic cleansing, genocide etc. are examples of how harmful it can be when taken to extremes, though should not be simply conflated with ethnic nationalism). The flexibility of criteria required to be considered a nation member determines the diversity of the nation: civic nationalism is considerably more benign than ethnic nationalism, and can promise a distinctly more diverse and inclusive polity aimed at strengthening a non-static, ever-changing national identity and fostering social cohesion.
References
[1] https://www.thoughtco.com/country-state-and-nation-1433559/
[2] Weber, Max, (1918). Politics as a Vocation.
[3] Gellner, Ernest, (1983). Nations and Nationalism. Oxford: Basil Blackwell.
[4] Anderson, Benedict (1991). Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (2nd ed.). London: Verso. Chapter 1.
[5] Fukuyama, Francis. 2014. Political Order and Political Decay. Profile Books. Chapter 12.
[6] https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/politicsandpolicy/civic-vs-ethnic-nationalism-supreme-court/
[7]https://www.dictionary.com/e/patriotism-vs-nationalism/ -
Introduction
Social movements are ‘collective challenges [to elites, opponents, authorities etc.] based on common purposes and social solidarities, in sustained interaction with elites, opponents, and authorities’ (Tarrow). Social movements obviously vary in effectiveness, with some social movements outperforming others in their ability to not only raise awareness, but attract loyal members. Members of a social movement are actively engaged supporters of a social movement’s causes, whom regularly participate in organized activities and (typically) take on leadership roles and engage in decision-making processes. This is to be distinguished from a supporter − who may agree with the movement’s goals and values but not necessarily actively involved; they may donate, share information or occasionally attend events without committing to regular participation.
Though it may seem intuitive, I should clarify what makes a social movement ‘better’ than another at attracting members. On one hand, a social movement that attracts a larger number of members may seem ‘better’ than the movement attracts less; on the other hand, quality matters − a large number of members with low loyalty, education level, engagement and participation is no better than a small, concentrated group of highly dedicated, forward-thinking members willing, capable and committed to advancing the cause and reaching their goals. A social movement is, then, better than another at attracting members if it attracts a sufficient number of high quality members that perform their purpose in advancing the movement’s purpose and goals.
I explore demand and supply side factors, looking at what motivates potential members to join a social movement as well as the ‘market supply’ for attractive social movements. I then determine the intersection of factors that make social movements attract (a) a high number of members, (b) a high quality of loyal members, (c) a sufficient number of high quality members that perform their purpose in advancing the movement’s purpose and goals. I arrive at the conclusion that genuine legitimate grievances and issue valence are the most crucial factors on the demand and supply side respectively, but also that other structural, political, and personal (emotional/non-rational) issues matter as well.
Demand-side factors
Demand-side factors answer the question ‘Why would I want to join a social movement?’. I identify three layers of response to this question: each individual/(potential) member is only likely to identify with one of the three motivations at a time. The layers descend in strength of motivation, with layer one being the most pressing catalyst for social movement membership and layer three the least.
Layer one. My interests are aptly represented by the social movement (usually, the strongest case is when I believe I am wronged by society in some way and I am angry at injustice towards me or my community). Individuals identifying with layer one are likely motivated by solidarity-seeking and self-protection. This is reminiscent of rational choice theory (a rational choice theorist might say that such individuals join social movements to protect self-interest), but Green and Shapiro are skeptical of rational choice as a universal theory sufficiently explaining political motivation (i.e. it does not explain the free-rider paradox); they instead turn to alternative explanations like civic duty. Such individuals may also seek empowerment, solidarity and a sense of community through people with similar values, experiences and beliefs.
Layer two. I believe the social movements stands for a good cause (even if the cause is not directly related to my interests). Similar to layer one, this motive may come in the form of anger at injustice and a desire for progress, but the main distinction between this and layer one is that this stems from empathy on behalf of a disenfranchised or violated community. Individuals identifying with layer two are likely motivated by empathy.
Layer three. I want to leave a positive legacy or impact / I want to display a sense of moral goodness (to myself, to the people around me, or both). Individuals identifying with layer three are likely motivated by reputation (Jasper) and/or moral conscience. Layer three may manifest in terms of virtue signaling, i.e. ‘the act of expressing opinions or stances that align with popular moral values, often through social media, with the intent of demonstrating one's good character’. Virtue signaling is often viewed negatively as it seems a disingenuous way to engage in politics, but it needs to be understood that (1) it may arise from peer influence creating sense of obligation or inspiration; (2) this can be conscious or subconscious (but is often subconscious, we don’t like perceiving ourselves as calculated or self-serving especially in face of moral issues); (3) it can manifest in a less shallow / calculated way − it can be a genuine desire to push change forward, to leave a positive legacy/impact (Jasper), just in a less connected or engaged way than the former two layers.
Supply-side factors
Supply-side factors answer the question ‘What makes a social movement attractive?’ Note that an attractive social movement can be a driver for demand, but is not necessarily a demand-side factor in that its attractiveness merely appeals to any one of the layers rather than being a motivation in itself.
Factor one. The issues that the social movement aims to tackle or address have high valence. High-valence issues are issues that hold legitimate grievances/concerns − typically, those that violate the fulfillment of needs for a given community. Issues are of higher valence when essential needs of some community are impeded upon by another group of individuals − e.g. if one is barred from physiological/safety needs by others, it would certainly cause widespread outrage, as it would basically be a human rights violation (ex. movements like the Civil Rights Movement, or even the local OxAct4Pal). The political opportunity structure, proposed by both Meyer and Tilly, posits that contentious politics (including social movements) emerge when threats are experienced and opportunities are perceived (by contentious actors, often ordinary citizens). When a movement presents itself as concerned with a high-valence issue, it must ensure two things: (1) a clear positioning on issues, with well-articulated goals and action plan; (2) that its issue-position is not in a moral gray-area − it should either advocate actively against a morally bad thing, or actively for a morally good thing (though the former usually has greater valence weight than the latter though due to urgency).
Factor two. The movement has a well-organized internal structure. Andrews et al., in their analysis of the Sierra Club, identifies public recognition, member engagement and leaders development as key components of movement effectiveness. A strong internal structure, with competent leaders clear on their goals and able to convert intangible goals into tangible action with good organization, decision-making, will consistently engage members without leaving them confused; without it, even a movement with a vital issue may struggle to function effectively. Additionally, grassroots organizations are usually more appealing than top-down or ‘astroturf’ organizations. If a social movement is not ‘by the people’, it could create some distrust.
Factor three. The movement has a wide reach and strong external structure/networking. Without a strong external network a movement with clear goals and internal structure cannot extend its outreach beyond limited members (Sierra Club's organizational effectiveness and strong community ties helped it attract a diverse membership). Tilly’s polity model posits that social movements need coalitions and networks with a balance of both formal and informal structures (better if you have the former) to succeed; coalitions and securing allies allow for access to the polity.
Factor four. The movement’s narrative-building and identity-forming is compelling and cohesive. This is ideally coupled with a high-valence issue, but can even give low-valence issues a perceived legitimacy by utilizing emotionally-charged rhetoric (ex. the anti-vaccination movement).
Factor five. The movement has a (generally) positive reputation. This is usually accompanied with positive media reporting and/or word-of-mouth, a not-too-extreme political position, and repertoires of contention that are seen as constructive disruption but not violent, unethical, radical, excessive or unconstructive.
Factor six. The movement is not too demanding towards its members. Similar to factor five, types of repertoires of contention and periodicity of contribution also matter; if a movement requires its members to constantly engage in violent repertoires it may decrease its attractiveness to potential members. This also ties to political opportunity structure − if political constraints exceed opportunities e.g. emerges under a crackdown regime, being a member requires high-stakes contribution and so might repel potential members.
Intersection
Answering the question requires determining the equilibrium combination of demand- and supply-side factors that contribute to member-attracting success.
In terms of attracting the most members, the movement should ideally tap into and appeal to people from all layers on the demand-side; layers 2 and 3 is where reach is largest but layer 1 gives the movement legitimacy. On the supply-side, factors 3, 4 and 5 (wide reach, cohesive identity and positive reputation) are highly important.
In terms of attracting the highest-quality members (most engaged, loyal, etc.), a movement should look to strongly appeal to a large demographic of members from layer 1 and 2 as they are most strongly connected to the issue at hand; this should be coupled with factors 1 and 6 on the supply-side (advocating for an important issue without excessively high stakes); and to some extent factors 2 and 5 (it should be well-organized and reputable, to keep members goal-focused and prideful in belonging (Jasper)).
For the ideal combination of quantity and quantity, social movements that satisfy the following requirements reach member-attracting equilibrium. On the demand-side, it is desired that solidarity for genuine grievances is found through the social movement; a large number of people are affected by the issue; and those directly affected, or those adjacent to the directly affected (basically anyone else with similar values) recognize the legitimacy of grievance. On the supply-side, it is desired that high valence of issues are addressed by the social movement; clear goals and action plan exist with relative low demandingness (stakes of participation are relatively low); and there exists an extensive external network that allows the social movement to gain massive reach (in the 21st century, this can be facilitated by social media.)
Note they are not independent of each other, especially the first points of each side: grievances and valence go hand in hand (political opportunity structure). If issue valence is high it captures a large portion of people who identify with layer one, and even more people who identify with layer two. It is less likely for members to be disengaged with the issue at hand when they are emotionally invested in the issue, or in the case of layer one a literal stakeholder.
-
Introduction
The political elite and economic elite are often seen as having some interlinked relationship, whether explicitly or implicitly. This relationship is often understood as an ‘oligarchy’ which involves the exercise of (political) power by the richest citizens - who happen always to be ‘the few’; in other words, oligarchy refers (broadly) to extreme political inequalities that necessarily accompany extreme material inequalities (Winters and Page).
I break down the oligarchal relationship between the political and economic elites into two main categories: (1) intersection between members of the political and economic elite; and (2) a symbiotic relationship between the two. In evaluation of whether these relationships hold, I argue that the symbiosis relationship holds the most strength, but the intersection relationship is still a significant one to explore nevertheless. Additionally, I argue that political and economic systems are gradually becoming more pluralistic such that the oligarchal power dynamics have slightly dwindled over time, but that does not mean its influence is not still pervasive.
Who are the (political/economic) elite?
Elites are a select group that is superior in terms of ability or qualities to the rest of a group or society. Political elites are characterized by (1) being in (official) positions of political power − whether elected (ex. presidents, MPs; typically most powerful but are directly accountable to their electorate), appointed (ex. federal judges, Lords members) or ‘hired’ (ex. bureaucratic elites, high-ranking civil servants); (2) having substantial influence over key political decisions i.e. being able to set agendas, veto policies etc.
Similarly, economic elites are characterized by (1) being in positions of economic power − from business leaders (CEOs), investors, entrepreneurs, to influential professionals (working in finance, law, technology, etc.); (2) having substantial influence over key economic decisions i.e. control over economic resources such as capital investments in specific industries, regions, or technologies, market share control, or investment in some political campaigns over others.
Relationship of the elite groups: evaluation
As aforementioned, the relationship between political and economic elites is two-fold in my analysis − intersectional and symbiotic.
1. Members of the political elite largely intersect with those of the economic elite.
The economic and political elite are often intersectional, particularly in economic and capitalist systems: they occupy positions on both ends, for instance business leaders in government, lobbyists, high-ranking officials from the business world, advisory boards, etc. I look at how being part of one elite group is conducive to being part of the other.
a) Being part of the economic elite has conducive elements to participating in the political elite.
The higher-education argument is among the most prominent in explaining how economic-elite membership is conducive to political-elite membership. Individuals from the economic elite often
have access to prestigious educational institutions, especially as many elite universities offer programs in political science, law, and public policy (ex. the amount of PMs and MPs produced by, precisely, Oxford PPE), preparing graduates for roles in government which provide not only knowledge but also networking opportunities that can facilitate entry into politics. The significance of education, however, has been challenged by Hacker and Pierson, who instead argue that the rise in inequality is more closely linked to political decisions and economic structures rather than educational attainment alone, in turn suggesting that the political landscape is shaped by broader systemic factors beyond individual educational achievements.
The economic elite also has a visibility advantage within political circles: firstly, economic elites can fund political campaigns or engage in lobbying efforts (Winters and Page); secondly, they typically interact within influential social networks where they can establish relationships with political elites; thirdly, they are likely to establish respect, reputation and credibility for themselves by virtue of their economic success which can lend well in their transition into political roles and translate into political support.
That is not to say economic-elite membership is entirely conducive: obviously, significant barriers to entry exist in political systems such as the need for political expertise in face of the complexities of political systems, or the need for public support (which can prove especially hard in face of potential elitist backlash particularly in economically trying times or periods/regions of high economic inequality). Nevertheless, economic-elite membership can certainly be a help rather than hindrance in joining the political elite (ex. Donald Trump’s transition from businessman to two-time president[/-elect]).
b) Being part of the political elite has conducive elements to participating in the economic elite.
Political elites are less likely to transition into the economic elite than the other way around, though it is certainly still considerably plausible. Similar to the visibility and networking factors, a bright political career can bolster a credible leader reputation and make them attractive candidates for leadership positions in corporations or boards, as well as allow for networking and partnership opportunities. Political elites, especially those specializing in economic policy, may have insider knowledge and a good grasp on regulatory environments and policies which are clearly conducive for business ventres. Similarly, political elites transitioning to economic elites may face elitist scrutiny or conflict-of-interest accusations. More importantly, a political career is much more specialized, concentrated and allows less flexibility for a transition to business venture such that not all politicians have the opportunity or desire to transition into the economic elite.
2. Economic and political elites are symbiotic on the benefits they can bring each other. Most importantly, both political and economic elites are motivated by the expansion and retention of power. Political elites clearly want to multiply political power, from capturing and maintaining electoral support to being able to sway the agenda in one way or another; while economic elites want to multiply and retain the financial resources they possess (in other words, make and keep money). For that reason the two groups are symbiotic on each other as each group can rely on the other to realize their motivations.
a) The economic elite is reliant on the political elite to maximize their economic power.
The economic elite is reliant on political leniency in economic policies, i.e. a regulatory framework favorable for profit maximization in particular key industries. This mostly manifests in lower tax rates, subsidies, deregulation or other incentives which can enhance the wealth or financial success of businesses. Economic elites may rely on government contracts, subsidies, or grants to bolster their financial positions, and political elites can facilitate access to these resources, creating a direct link between political decisions and economic outcomes. Power held by the economic elite translates into political power through various means; funding lobbying efforts being the most obvious. By Winters and Page, ‘most big campaign donors want something from politics; and what they want may be closely related to the fact of their wealth’.
b) The political elite is reliant on the economic elite to maximize their political power.
Similarly, the political elite is reliant on economic resources held by the economic elite to back campaign funding to capture significant electoral support. Political campaigns require substantial funding, and economic elites often provide the necessary financial resources (enormous amounts of money are spent on US elections: perhaps $4 billion in 2004, up about $1 billion from 2000) crucial for political survival and success. Economic elites can also provide networking resources as well as economic, introducing political leaders to influential networks and allowing them a channel to garner support from other influential figures and organizations. A benefit provided by economic elites in the media industry (those who own media outlets or control significant advertising resources) in particular is their ability to shape public narratives and opinions, which political elites can leverage to maintain electoral support. In order to capture the support of economic elites political elites may align their policies with the interests of economic elites to secure ongoing support thus leading to the creation of policies that favor economic interests, further entrenching the relationship.
Temporal evaluation: decline in oligarchy?
However, there is a trend of democracies becoming increasingly pluralistic and decreasingly oligarchic. Civil society (existing outside of the elite) can form a counterpower, becoming a safeguard against oligarchy and intersectional / symbiotic elitism. Especially with globalization and technology giving rise to social media, in addition to educational advancements, access to information has been highly democratized, leading to a more informed electorate and, from such, greater civic engagement and political participation (ex. rise of anti-elitism grassroots movements and alternative media), contributing to a more pluralistic society. (Note anti-elitist movements are not to be confused with populism as it requires anti-pluralist sentiment as well.) In addition to civil society, various reforms (ex. anti-corruption measures, campaign finance laws, transparency laws) can also form counterpowers against oligarchy. However, oligarchic structures and power dynamics still continue and remain pervasive, despite movements toward pluralism. Gilens and Page’s analysis of over 1800 policy issues in the US reveals ‘the preferences of the average American appear to have only a minuscule, near-zero, statistically non-significant impact upon public policy’ as of 2014, and instead economic elites and business-oriented interest groups’ influence on public policy reign dominant.
Conclusion
All in all, the political and economic elite’s relationship is one wherein both rely on each other symbiotically to achieve material and political gains (i.e. the expansion and retention of power); it is also one where political and economic power can be transferable and elite membership in either party is quite often permeable to the other, though an economic-to-political transition is more likely than the other way around. The power imbalances this intersectional and symbiotic relationship exacerbates can receive backlash especially from civil society during periods of economic instability and inequality; in some democracies where information is democratized, civic engagement is high and civil society is mobilized, civil society and various other counterpowers (including legal reforms) can counteract oligarchy and render oligarchic democracies more pluralistic, yet with how entrenched this relationship is, the problem lies at the heart of mutual gains among the elites who set up the system in a way that will continue to benefit those at the top.
-
Ideal democratic governance is often attributed not only to conducive political structures (such as the existence of equal voting system and robust checks and balances), but also robust civic culture and/or social capital that exists among the citizens of a democratic polity. Civic culture denotes a combination of different types of attitudes (cognitive, affective or evaluative) held towards different classes of political objects (the governing system itself, political inputs/outputs, notions of the ‘ideal citizen’) (Almond and Verba); while social capital denotes the the propensity of individuals to associate together on a regular basis, to trust one another, and to engage in community affairs (Hall).
I will argue that (1) a democracy cannot work well by civic culture and/or social capital alone and other structural/state-side factors are crucial to the functioning of a democracy; (2) despite that, a democracy cannot work well without them either but the question of comparing which is ‘more important’ is problematic to examine empirically when both are causally linked to one another, are hard to measure and democracies weaken in absence of one or the other; (3) we can arrive at an intuition that civic culture can uphold democratic practices better than social capital but we should be cognizant that the two concepts are so intertwined so this intuition does not serve too much purpose.
Differentiating civic culture from social capital
Civic culture is about how active you believe you should be in politics and political processes, how cognizant you are of politics and to what extent you are willing to be subject to state rule. Social capital is about how much you trust and connect with the society and community you live in.
What does a strong civic culture look like?
According to Almond and Verba’s civic culture hypothesis, a strong civic culture is one combining a participant and subject culture. In participant culture, people are aware of government, the processes of political input and outputs of government, and adopt an activist view of their role as citizens. In other words, participant-culture citizens know they are able to express their views through voting for political parties, or through participating in interest groups, other political activities etc. and feel a duty to engage by virtue of living under the system. In subject culture, individuals are aware of the state and policy outputs, but are only involved as a recipient of orders and object of mobilization.
Yet Dalton and Welzel propose challenges to the civic culture hypothesis with dynamic culture shifts since then with post-materialist values (Inglehart) having made emergent emancipatory attitudes (independence/people’s movements, etc.), marking a change from the allegiant ideal to assertive ideal as the political civic culture norm. The assertive citizen is critical of authority and formal institutions' ability to fulfill democratic principles; is a supporter of the principles of democracy but skeptical of its practice, and is willing to engage in nonviolent, elite-challenging activity to ensure effective and accountable governance.
What does high social capital look like?
According to Hall, social capital is ‘the propensity of individuals to associate together on a regular basis, to trust one another, and to engage in community affairs’ − in other words, how members of society are able to band together and live harmoniously. Paxton’s definition of social capital interprets it as ‘the notion that social relations can facilitate the production of economic or non-economic goods’. Paxton provides two dimensions of social capital: (1) objective associations among individuals (i.e. quantity/existence of human networks/connections); (2) associations of a particular type − reciprocal, trusting, and involving positive emotion (i.e. quality of human connections). In summation of the above, I understand social capital as the idea that (1) having high quantity/quality of connections can produce mutually beneficial trades/exchanges, i.e. (2) benefit both parties and create added value in society.
1. Limitations of civic culture and social capital
First and foremost, political culture and social capital can only do so much. Whether a democracy works well depends on structural factors: the existence of elections, separation of powers, pluralistic system of parties and organizations, constitutional respect for human rights and fundamental freedoms incl. freedom of expression and press, and constitutional subordination of all state institutions to the legally constituted civilian authority.
To recapitulate, democracy is understood as a political system where state power is vested in the people, meaning people have a say in political decision-making and such decision-making is in the best interests of the people. The principle that democracy is ‘rule by the people’ though does mean that the qualities of the people have a direct effect on effective rule - in that (1) when voting, people need to turn up and make informed decisions that reflect their interests; (2) outside of the balloting room, people need to be talking about politics (in a constructive manner) either through some form of political association, or through informal discourse; (3) when necessary (i.e. when the common good/people’s interests are no longer adequately represented by the government), people need to be able to band together in form of collective action and make challenges to political elites in power. In a way, this might be what the ‘ideal citizen’ in a well-functioning democracy looks like.
2. Explaining civic culture and social capital
Secondly, the factors cultivating civic culture and social capital are intertwined in a way that makes it hard to separate the two.
How is strong civic culture cultivated?
The participant-subject culture, as per Almond and Verba’s civic culture hypothesis, is mainly cultivated through education and critical thinking skills; social norms and cultural values promoting civic responsibility and participation; and building of trust and networks (in other words, social capital builds civic culture − coming back to this later). The assertive variant of the citizen, as per Dalton and Welzel, is cultivated similarly, but with a focus on rights and responsibilities, on holding authorities accountable, and on the impacts of civic engagement and activism. A promotion of critical engagement is crucial − the social/political environment should encourage skepticism of authority, facilitate public discourse, provide support for civil society (NGOs, advocacy groups) and access to resources for mobilization (funding, leadership training etc. lowering barrier to starting grassroots movements).
What causes high social capital?
To avoid simply conflating social capital with social trust (as I will primarily be discussing social trust), I lay out my understanding of social trust as one subtype of social capital, but it is also an element of social capital so foundational that it also form the basis or foundation of voluntary associations (membership, charitable endeavors, informal associations (Hall)), and in turn associations can build trust as well.
I identify two types of social trust:
(1) interpersonal trust, i.e. ability to trust your neighbor. I attribute high levels of interpersonal trust to good neighborhood track record, similarity in background, educational advancements and regularity of associations.
institutional trust, i.e. ability to trust the state. Similarly, I attribute institutional trust to good track record of the state. Southern Italy is a prime example of state failure contributing to low social capital (Putnam), whereas Britain is a prime example of a more robust welfare state (Hall on government devotion to public sector). Economic stability can also bolster institutional trust (and the lack thereof eroding it).
3. Challenging the ‘more important’ premise
Given the above, the causal factors behind the two seem to be interlinked in a way that could render the question of ‘most important’ problematic, though an intuitive case can be made that civic culture is slightly more important due to (a) easy and direct translation to political activity, and (b) less regional variation. Social capital is a factor affecting civic culture (it is hard to have a good civic culture without trust and associations). Additionally, both are quite affected by similar (if not the same) contextual factors (education, economic stability, historical factors) so it is hard to see one without the other. We can nevertheless try to see if one is more important than the other by imagining or finding a democracy with one factor present and the other absent, and compare democratic performance.
Does high social capital guarantee well-functioning democracy?
It is possible to have high neighborhood cohesion and low political engagement. In US suburban communities, residents may have strong social networks (e.g., friendships, community clubs) but exhibit low political participation. This may be explained by a disconnection from politics, or political apathy due to contentment with status quo.
Another example of this is the favelas in Brazil, wherein strong social ties and mutual support networks (high social capital) exist but does not translate into effective political representation or civic engagement, as these communities may face systemic exclusion from formal political processes. This demonstrates the importance of structural factors in realizing democratic
liberation. Structural factors can also directly affect civic culture, as if the barrier to participate is too high citizens’ attempts at engagement may be rendered futile and can lead to low civic culture.
Does strong civic culture guarantee well-functioning democracy?
The U.S. has a strong civic culture characterized by widespread beliefs in democratic ideals, individual rights, and civic duty. This bodes well for the US as a well-established democracy. In the UK, areas with strong community identities (e.g., in some regions of Northern England) may display a strong civic culture and UK’s social capital (Hall).
Italy has a rich civic culture rooted in historical participation and activism, especially in cities like Bologna and Florence, which have strong traditions of civic engagement. However, low social capital is evident in many regions, with mafia, clientelism and patronage running rampant especially in south Italy. Though we can analyze Italy by region, as the south is significantly underfunded compared to the north contributing to low social trust thus eroding civic culture as well, civic culture is generally one maintained more consistently across the nation.
In other words, neither element guarantees a well-functioning democracy. It seems intuitively, based on the empirical examinations above, that strong civic culture can translate into democratic practices more easily than social capital. High social capital can foster a more genuine and trusting political culture than participant / allegiant civic culture alone (though both committed to the common good, acting out of duty is more obligating and less genuine than acting out of best interest for a wider society with whom you have good relationships). It might also be the case that institutional trust is more relevant to democracy than interpersonal trust.
Regional variations should also be taken into account: social capital varies more regionally; civic culture does not. Civic culture is often shared-nationwide typically more pervasive across the nation. However as it is seen that neither can truly survive, it is quite hard to compare importance and move the verdict beyond intuition.
Conclusion
While a strong civic culture and high social capital can be a catalyst and often jointly necessary for a strong democracy, they are not able to do much alone, if not coupled with supporting structural factors that uplift citizens’ right to participate politically. The question of prioritizing one’s importance over the other is problematic as their strength or levels are jointly affected by the same factors (economic stability, education), though it can be said that a strong civic culture’s ability to translate into political action is more than high social capital alone, especially if coupled with political apathy.
-
Yes, civil wars and revolutions can be caused by the same factors, but only to an extent. I argue that civil wars and revolutions share a deep-seated core motivation of dissatisfaction, particularly economic grievances and greed, often under a weak or extractive state; but diverge in the nuances of this dissatisfaction − ethnic cleavages, natural resources or state capacity for civil wars, and unequal concentration of power (generally towards the state) for revolutions. For other shared factors such as historical and geographical factors, elites and religion, I argue that civil wars and revolutions are both affected by these factors, but that they sometimes play different roles. Additionally, completely diverging causal factors do exist such as natural resources for civil wars and international relations for revolutions, wherein such factors are only applicable to one or the other.
Comparing core motivations
General motivations
On a broad scope, all large-scale political conflict is rooted in dissatisfaction. Economic grievances and greed can create that dissatisfaction in both civil wars and revolution − more specifically, economic inequality (dire inequality is often a necessary condition for revolutions in particular). Civil wars and revolutions are then just mass-scale, deep-rooted desires and attempts to rectify that dissatisfaction through a struggle for power.Climates fostering high economic inequality and economic deprivation then become perfect breeding grounds for both civil wars and revolutions. With potential participants evaluating the potential gains of joining the war/movement against working a regular job, opportunity costs are low as they will not be paid much if at all, in addition to the high rate of return if successful creating a strong incentive for low-income individuals especially to join.
In addition to poor economic conditions, a weak state with extractive institutions generally underpin all civil wars and revolutions. Toft1 argues that a state between an autocracy and democracy − an anocracy as she calls it − is most conducive to civil war, as it lacks the democratic representation or checks and balances, nor the strong repressive power of autocracies. The same can be said about revolutions − a strong state would successfully repress rebellious groups, whereas a weak state would remove the political constraint.
State strength and quality slightly differs in its impacts on civil wars and revolutions: a weak state exacerbates the ‘security dilemma’ for factions in civil wars as when the central government loses power, it can no longer protect the interests of each faction (ex. ethnic groups − more on this later), and these groups begin to fear for their safety. Extractive states can exacerbate inequalities and competition for resources, breeding resentment among marginalized populations. For revolutions, extractive institutions can unify diverse groups under a common goal of reform by creating strong desires to overthrow and mobilize against perceived injustices.
Specific motivations
However, economic grievances are far from the only major factor causing civil wars and revolutions. Civil wars are any sustained violence (armed conflict) that takes place within a country (or equivalent)’s borders (a simplification of Kalyvas’s explanation) − borders within which ethnic variations exist, limited resources exist for which people fight for, and states and elites exist that vary in strength, motivation and quality of governance. Thus, ethnic heterogeneity, abundant natural resources (which people fight for control over) and weak state capacity (the state’s inability to mediate conflict) can be dominant factors in the causation of civil wars − where each of these factors are respectively heralded by international relations scholars, development economists and comparativist scholars (Kalyvas).
Ethnicity is a particular core factor that tends to be more pronounced in civil wars than revolutions. From 1940 to 2000, 98% of civil wars fought for territorial control were incited by ethnically based demands. Fearon cites Horowitz (1985)’s explanation of kinship within ethnic groups engaging ‘intense emotions and a sense of existential threat’ − ‘ethnic brethren are understood as metaphorical family members’.
Revolutions, on the other hand, are ‘the forcible overthrow of a government through mass mobilization (whether military or civilian or both) in the name of social justice, to create new political institutions’ (Goldstone); in other words, a mass-mobilized effort to overthrow the existing political order and reinstate a new order in place. Revolutions, given that it involves the takedown of a government, also tends to take place within the borders of the same country, so can be hard to differentiate from civil wars − but revolutions require a deep-seated dissatisfaction with the existing political state in particular to incite fervor for overthrowing it, whereas this is not necessary for civil wars.
This dissatisfaction is sowed by a dire power imbalance − people have sought to overthrow monarchies/aristocracies in earlier revolutions (ex. the aristocratic Ancient Greece), or set constitutions limiting/replacing the power of kings (ex. America, France, Europe), or communist revolutions aimed at social transformation, equitable redistribution and economic growth (ex. Russia, China, Cuba) and eventually anti-communist or anti-dictatorial revolutions aimed to take down a repressive, authoritarian state with distributive power concentrated at the hands of the state (ex. the color revolutions). What all these historical cases of revolutions have in common is an initial concentration of power in the hands of a few political elites and a desire to topple an unequal system, motivated by widespread economic grievances and anger at injustice.
That being said, such dominant factors are not always exclusive to civil wars nor revolutions − but in general, it is the case that dominant factors of civil wars are supporting factors of revolutions, and vice versa. On an additional note − the state only plays the role of the mediator in civil wars − unless the conflict is both a civil war and a revolution, where the main conflict is between the state and the people.
Comparing supporting motivations or catalysts
Shared factors
Historical, geographical and demographic factors, while are not core motivations, set up the structural basis and conditions for war or revolution (as per Goldstone’s unstable equilibrium theory). Firstly, a history of prior conflict renders a country more war-prone in the future, with recency of last conflict as an exacerbating factor (Toft). This applies to revolutions as well, especially as historical events can establish patterns of dissent, existing grievances, or weakened state legitimacy (ex. France experienced multiple revolutions, with previous revolutionary contexts influencing subsequent uprisings).Secondly, states geographically bordering states with a civil war or revolution are more likely to experience outbreaks themselves. Finally, youth bulges (i.e. higher number of youth), large populations, or gender inequalities prove demographically conducive to political outbreaks: ‘societies with a disproportionate number of males in the 15-29 age range have a higher propensity for civil war’, and ‘societies that afford females the same opportunities as males are less prone to civil war’ (Toft).
Shared factors of differing nature
The role of elites, though prominent in both forms of conflict, greatly differs in civil wars and revolutions. In civil wars, elites can play a role of manipulation. Elites are often deemed necessary to the rise of civil wars as they help coalesce identities and grievances. Fearon in describing the modernist view of ethnic polarization, describes ethnic groups as ‘political coalitions formed to advance the economic interests of members’, or ‘a tool by which political elites maintain or increase their public support’ (Gagnon 1994-5), considering ethnic lines are easiest to mobilize. In revolutions, however, elites are generally fragmented, alienated and in opposition with one another (Goldstone), in order to create a political opportunity, or rather, remove the constraint of strong elite opposition, for a revolution to succeed.
Religion can also play a mobilizing role in both conflicts, but once again of slightly differing natures. In civil wars, religion can help define group identities and exacerbate existing divisions by framing conflicts along religious lines, leading to polarized communities; additionally, religious narratives can be used to legitimize violence and mobilize support for one side in a civil war, as religious justifications may reinforce group cohesion and provide moral backing for combatants. In revolutions, religion can serve as an ideological compass, legitimizing the movement’s goals similar to that in civil wars, in addition to broadening coalitions by unifying and transcending class and political divisions in pursuit of a common cause. With revolutions often aiming for fundamental changes to the political and social order, such societal transformations can include shifts in religious authority and the role of religion in public life.
Differing factors
All above being said, some causes hardly (or simply do not) overlap between civil wars and revolutions. Natural resources can definitely have a causal impact on civil wars, with development economists even emphasizing the role of natural resources as a primary cause − a UN 2009 estimate attributed natural resources to at least 40% of all intrastate conflicts in the past 60 years. Armed factions may be incentivized to seek control over these resources to finance their activities or gain power. Additionally, civil wars require the element of violence and rural regions often see a higher likelihood of military presence due to geographic advantages, resource control, political marginalization. Natural resources’ causal linkage to revolutions, however, is much less direct − the focus is much more often on broader economic conditions, social inequalities, and political oppression that mobilize people to seek change and so the natural-resource factor is likely more exclusively dominant in causing civil wars.
Regional differences also have a larger impact on civil wars than revolutions − the rural dimension (Kalyvas) is often more pronounced in civil wars, particularly when rural regions are marginalized and left behind, leading to material grievances (land, resources, rural poverty etc.) that drive conflict. While revolutions can involve rural populations, they are often more urban-centered: revolutions may rely on urban-based movements, protests, and strikes rather than rural guerrilla warfare.
For revolutions, international relations is a strong supporting cause, whereas a civil war is internally fought instead of largely supported or led by external forces, though they can receive foreign aid. Revolutions also require mass mobilization, and a desire for fundamental reform, whereas civil wars can simply aim for limited objectives (e.g. secession or control over policy) − this requires widespread grievances and united ideological aspirations, a collective desire for systemic change, e.g. the establishment of democracy, socialism, national independence etc. while civil wars may simply focus on power struggles or resource control.
Conclusion
All in all, civil wars are primarily driven by internal factions, division or political fragmentation and a struggle/desire for control created by ethnic or natural resource divides, whereas revolutions are primarily driven by a deep dissatisfaction with the state due to dire inequality under the current political order. Both require weak, extractive states, and other favorable structural factors. Elites and religion mobilize in different ways. Natural resources and rurality don’t directly impact revolutions, while international relations and united ideological desire for foundational change don’t directly impact civil wars.