Power of Perception

Lerner’s “The Grocer and the Chief: A Parable” is an extremely interesting piece, for it offers insight into not only the power dynamic of the Balgat, but also into the interviews’ perceptions of the people of the village. The initial interviewer, Tosun B., sought to ask questions of the poorest man in the village, the shepherd. It is heavily implied that whilst trying to set up this interview, the chief of the village made him incredibly nervous. Following his interview with a grocer, Tosun, with all his marvelous insightfulness, declares the grocer was nervous around him, and proud to have been selected for the interview. This sets up an interesting power dynamic in the village: why is the outsider feared by the grocer, yet fears the chief? I believe the answer lies in the desires of the three individuals. The grocer is nervous around Tosun because the interviewer represents the live he wishes to live but cannot experience for himself. The grocer simply wants to impress upon Tosun that he is different than the villagers in Balgat. Tosun, however, fears the chief, because he is in his village, interviewing his people. The dynamic between these unique people supports the notion that power is entirely dependent upon the perception of the individual; one only holds power when others decide that he or she should have said power.

On a separate note, I would like to comment on the subtle arrogance of Tosun which could discount everything I mentioned above. Tosun’s assumption that the grocer was nervous around him and proud to be interviewed implies the former implies he is above the latter. If Tosun’s comments are accurate, however, the notion that power is dependent upon perception is further supported.

The Passing of Traditional Society

Throughout class discussions, we’ve addressed and discussed the question of whether political science should be considered a science or not and why. One of the biggest critiques of political science is the lack of empirical evidence to support the claims it tries to make. This flaw in research is clear in two places in David Lerners’s “The Passing of Traditional Society”. In both places, Lerner claims to have insight into the minds and hearts of the people he is interviewing. When writing about the grocer, Lerner claims that the grocer was “nervous and also proud to be interviewed although he tried to hide it” (Lerner 22). This is a bold claim with very little evidence to support it. Later when Lerner explains how the Balgati people interpret the grocer, he writes that “Some Balgati were talking loud about the Grocer to keep their own inner voices from being overheard by the Chief- or even by themselves” (Lerner 25). Again, another bold assumption with no sufficient supporting evidence. I think this problem goes beyond the ability of Lerner to produce sufficient evidence. Here, Lerner is assuming he can break into the world of the private, a world that its by definition exclusive. No one can see into the minds and hearts of other people, period. Lerner, armed with the assumption that he can, makes two different claims about the feelings of other people. It is possible that Lerner is trying to do what Scott says we must do and provide our own interpretations to what we observe, but I don’t think Lerner has enough authority or credibility to interpret the actions of these people and comment on their motives, thoughts, or feelings.

An Effective Collaboration of Social Science and Journalism

The Grocer and the Chief’s presence in a 1955 issue of Harper’s magazine is an interesting example of how traditional journalism can supplement social science (in this case, surveys) in capturing idiosyncratic realities and the larger trends they potentially represent. The narrative style is deeply immersive, focusing on the physical details of Lerner’s journey and interviews (complete with illustration), and grounds its narration firmly in the lived experiences of the individuals the journalist interacts with, even as the article is framed in such a way as to illuminate a broader historical transformation. The conflict between tradition and modernity is complicated by the relationship each subject has to the fluid history in which they are living, and certain conventions of bitter intergenerational conflict are not followed because the human beings being interviewed are fleshed out in ways that go beyond broad-stroke archetypes. That complexity doesn’t dilute the implications for the larger cultural context so much as clarify and enhance it; the modernization of the Turkish state is a not a discretely defined process that will provoke a universal reaction, but a set of evolving circumstances based on dynamic systems of politics that has a unique and nuanced set of effects on both those individuals who represent traditional power structures and those whose professions are harbingers of an emergent cultural status quo. That this piece of long-form journalism, itself responding to a data-driven study, is able to illuminate the intersections of the quantitatively different but fundamentally co-dependent time scales of human life and political history is a testament to the effectiveness of multidisciplinary works that blend academic and popular media to try to better understand the world.

 

The Political Perspective

Lerner’s last paragraph indicates the relative myopia of political modes of analysis – they’re ineffective ways of representing the whole of a culture. They’re certainly useful , both in terms of highlighting differences within a society – why do the four remaining small farmers vote for the Halk party, and only them? – and between societies – why are Balgat men overwhelmingly Demokrat voters? – and understanding to some degree the preferences of its members. But understanding the only the political breakdown of Balgat would not give a full description of the town – indeed, it would lead to a distorted view, such as that of the newspaper man whose party required a Balgat with “their male ‘corners’ and their retail stores”, a perspective shaped by the need for ideal town that blended traditional notions with an acceptance of the new political order instead of a village with real, sincerely-felt history (Lerner 42).

To get a full, clear picture we need the thick description Geertz recommended. Lerner provides this in his nuanced, insightful analysis of Balgat, his faithful rendition of local culture, his understanding of the views of the Balgati towards modernization, and in so doing reveals the flaws of the analysis of Tosun, whose work he built on. Tosun also peered at the city through a political lens, not in the way of party politics but instead through an (at least partially) anti-capitalist framework. In approaching his study in that way he set himself up for misunderstanding – he scorns the worldview of both the chief and the grocer in order to justify his view of the town as filled with struggling, simple folk. Lerner, approaching the village with the intent of understanding, managed to better realize than either political observer the perspectives of the society’s members towards the town, its changes, and the political system closely tied to both.

Power Dynamics

This article is interesting because it provides a twist to the normalized power dynamic. The article points out that those we think have the power in the society are not always the ones that actually have the power over in which direction society will head. It raises the question of who has the power in society? Is it the people who seem to currently have the control or the people who control what the society will look like in the future? This article answers the question by stating that those who actually control society are the ones who point shape the society of the future. Those are the people who will be most successful. In this case, the grocer was treated as an outcast, but as society modernized, the grocer became the example by which most people in society lived by. In this way, the article also brought up the point of the progression of society and how society is continually shifting to make room for new ideas and the most modern ways of living.

Another issue this article raised for me is the role that outsiders have in commentating and passing judgements on a society. The first and second visitors to Balgat had contrasting views on many things, including the chief. However is it their place to pass judgements on these people?

The Grocer, the Chief, and the Interviewer

One of the things that stood out to me the most in Daniel Lerner’s article was the reaction the Chief had when discussing the modernization (although he doesn’t use this word). During Tosun’s interviews, the Chief clearly symbolized the traditional values whereas the Grocer represented modernizing values that would manifest themselves in the village after Tosun’s interviews and before Lerner visited. However, when Lerner questions the Chief about the economic and social transformation in the village, his “voice did not change, nor did his eyes cloud over” (Lerner 55) as he described how his sons had become shopkeepers although it is implicit that he regrets this. I think this pushes against with what Ringer describes: “Modernity is necessarily experienced as antagonistic to tradition. The process of modernization thus creates a situation of ‘crisis'” (Ringer 5). The Chief clearly holds traditional values in higher esteem than the ones that have manifested in Balgat. However, he does not think that “the new ways” were “bringing evil with them” (Ringer 5). Modernity thus does not seem to be causing a crisis of values although it is still portrayed in opposite terms with traditional values.

An Autopsy

Masha Gessen’s article on the issue of early death and depopulation in the Russian population is an interesting exploration of the root causes of this phenomenon; particularly when she quotes Eberhardt’s analysis that “…we would never expect to find premature mortality on the Russian scale in a society with Russia’s present income and educational profiles and typically Western readings on trust, happiness, radius of voluntary association, and other factors adduced to represent social capital.” The idea that the reason for Russia’s problems lie in some aspect of the population’s psyche, or the mental health of Russian society, is fascinating to me. That said, many studies have reinforced the connection between physical health and mental health, so this is less unbelievable than simply surprising, considering the number of people who must be affected by mental health issues for such a significant trend to appear.

It’s here that I take some issue with the idea that the explanation for Russia’s issues goes “beyond science”, in that neuroscience/psychology and its effects on very concrete bodily functions, hormones, etc. are not beyond science at all. Therefore, from my perspective, this article certainly brings to light Shapiro’s claim about “problem-oriented research” versus “method-oriented” in the sense that Eberhardt’s analysis was likely enabled and enhanced by some atypical and creative research, but does not sway me significantly to believe that there is some “truth beyond science”

Dying Russians

The conclusion to Gessen’s article leaves me unsatisfied. To me, the idea that hopelessness is the cause for so much death, seems incomplete and untestable. The unavoidable flaw to the study lays in the fact that the subjects are all dead. Nonetheless, the piece highlights the importance of both qualitative and quantitative research to dig deep into the problem in Russia. Cultural research, institutional research, and historical context all play a critical role in untangling the anthropological question at hand—yet the final conclusion still feels shaky. The article reveals that in social science there is no ultimate truth; we can only approach truth and come short. There will always be alternative arguments, and we need multiple view points to help piece together a whole. So yes, there is a “truth” that lies beyond the grasp of social science. We should absolutely not stop striving for it.

Blog Post 3: Dying Russians

In “The Dying Russians”, Masha Gessen sets out to piece together the puzzle of unusual death rates in Russia following the downfall of the Soviet Union. Gessen’s ability to understand Russia’s mortality crisis is an example of the enlightening nature that the relationship between “good journalism” and social science can create. Whereas others studying this Russian phenomenon had taken a quantitative approach, Gessen utilized the thick description of the situation in looking more qualitatively at the issue.  The article looks to understand this crisis by analyzing explicit patterns of cultural and social relationships and putting them in the context of the situation. Gessen studies the way in which certain political structures alter and shape a society’s culture. As explained in the article, within the communist nature of the Soviet Union, Russians felt a sense of belonging and meaning. Using the third dimensional method of power, the Soviet Union successfully manipulated it’s people into a mindset of equality even though behind closed doors and tall fences it was quite the opposite. This surprised me when I first read it. When learning about manipulation in political systems, I initially perceived these methods as crippling and oppressive, however, after reading this article it gave me new perspective on how the third dimensional approach can actually foster a sense of community and purpose amongst despair. Gessen uses both empirical and cultural approaches to understand why Russians are dying off at a higher rate. Whereas this approach may not have been as accurate or exact as the statistical approaches mentioned in the article, it does provide a more contextual basis of analysis that is helpful in understanding the issue an its roots. However, I believe it is important to consider analyzing complex cultural and political problems in a well rounded view rather that in an absolute fashion because figures are important to understand patterns yet context is equally important in explaining these patterns.

Science, Stories, and Statistics: Russian Depopulation

Science is defined as “a systematically organized body of knowledge on a particular subject”—a concept seemingly straightforward. In the article “The Dying Russian”, Masha Gessen attempts to explain the phenomena of increased mortality in Russia through the lens of different stems of “science”— anthropology (Michelle Parsons) and economics (Nicholas Eberstadt). Gessen deems Parson’s attempt futile as her primary sources of information (Muscovites) have had their memories transformed by time, by years of social and economic upheaval. Gessen continues his account by examining Eberstadt’s conclusions in respect to the problem at hand. Gessen questions Eberstadt’s efforts to remain unbiased by looking solely at figures and ignoring culture. By contrasting these two different approaches of analysis, Gessen brings light to the Hedgehog/Fox argument. The two autonomous studies lack in the areas the other one excels in. Cultural analysis, although extremely useful in understanding issues on a ground-level, provides little concrete evidence. Statistical analysis, although extremely clear and straightforward, is unable to present enough context. The two are always in conjunction with each other as one, the representative of a hard “science”, apposes the other, an embodiment of a social “science”. The two, regardless, are variations of science.  These instruments may seem like mutually exclusive entities, their coexistence can produce an instrument of analysis that could allow us to go beyond the unreachable. Thus, in order to see the picture, the cultural understanding must enforce the statistical data and vice versa—one must be a fox, skilled in all fields.