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Whose fault is it anyway?

In a Facebook post, Len Williamson asked for views on this quote from “The Sociological Imagination” by C Wright Mills:

The life of an individual cannot be adequately understood without references to the institutions within which his biography is enacted. For this biography records the acquiring, dropping, modifying, and in a very intimate way, the moving from one role to another. One is a child in a certain kind of family, one is a playmate in a certain kind of child’s group, a student, a workman, a foreman, a general, a mother. Much of human life consists of playing such roles within specific institutions. To understand the biography of an individual, we must understand the significance and meaning of the roles he has played and does play; to understand these roles we must understand the institutions of which they are a part.” (from “The Sociological Imagination” by C. Wright Mills, Todd Gitlin)

One of my next book projects is about the relationship between street photography and visual sociology, so here are my notes:

The statement from The Sociological Imagination captures a fundamental aspect of sociological thought: the interplay between individual lives and societal structures. Mills argues that we cannot fully understand an individual’s life without considering the social institutions in which they exist. This perspective is vital because it recognises that people do not operate in a vacuum; their identities, behaviours, and life trajectories are profoundly shaped by the social roles they occupy within various institutions, such as family, work, and education.

Mills suggests that individuals move through different roles throughout their lives, and these roles are embedded in institutional contexts. For example, being a child in a family is different from being a student in a school, and both of these are distinct from being a worker in a company. Each role carries specific expectations, norms, and behaviours that influence how an individual sees themselves and how they are perceived by others.

To understand someone’s life story, Mills argues, we need to examine the roles they have played and continue to play. This means understanding the institutions—families, schools, workplaces, and so on—that define these roles. Each institution has its own rules, values, and power dynamics, and these shape the roles within them. For example, the experience of being a mother in a patriarchal society will differ significantly from being a mother in a more egalitarian context.

This perspective is particularly important for understanding how social structures constrain or enable individual agency. It highlights how people’s choices and opportunities are often shaped by the institutional contexts in which they find themselves. For instance, a person may wish to go to university, but if they come from a socio-economic background where access to education is limited, their ability to fulfil this aspiration may be constrained. This is a challenge that universities are constantly trying to address.

However, there is a counter-argument to C. Wright Mills’ emphasis on the primacy of institutions in shaping individual lives. This alternative perspective revolves around the ideas of existentialism, human agency, and individual autonomy and personal responsibility.

Emphasis on Human Agency and Individual Autonomy: One counter-argument is that while institutions do play a significant role in shaping the contexts within which individuals operate, this underplays the importance of individual agency and personal choice. Existentialist thinkers like Jean-Paul Sartre argue that individuals are not merely products of their environments or social roles, but are fundamentally free to make choices that define their existence. According to this view, even within constraining institutional structures, people have the capacity to make decisions that deviate from or even resist the norms and expectations of these institutions.

This argument suggests that reducing an individual’s life to the roles they play within institutions can oversimplify the complexity of human experience. People often navigate multiple, sometimes conflicting, roles and can reinterpret or redefine these roles in ways that express their unique personalities, desires, and values. For example, two people occupying the same role (such as being a parent or a worker) might experience and perform that role in vastly different ways due to their personal choices, creativity, or resistance to institutional pressures.

Focus on Personal Responsibility and Moral Choice: Another angle of critique comes from ethical or philosophical traditions that emphasise personal responsibility. From this standpoint, individuals are not merely passive actors following institutional scripts but are morally accountable for their actions, regardless of the social context. This view might argue that focusing too much on the institutional determinants of behaviour can risk excusing individuals from accountability for their choices, thereby undermining the concept of moral responsibility.

For example, someone might argue that while social and economic institutions can influence criminal behaviour, individuals still have the moral responsibility to choose not to engage in criminal acts. This perspective asserts that understanding individuals primarily through the lens of their institutional roles may neglect the ethical dimension of personal choice and responsibility. This view has clearly been prominent in the judicial treatment of participants in the recent race riots in Britain. Judges have ‘seen through’ defence arguments that try to vindicate individuals on the grounds that were not members of the social group responsible for the disturbance, and instead have emphasised individuals’ personal choice and moral responsibility.

“Paul Williams, 45, was jailed for two years and two months for being at the “forefront” of what a judge described as an “orgy of mindless destruction, violence and disorder” in Sunderland, having originally popped into the city centre to collect a takeaway. Newcastle crown court heard how he threw metal fencing and a can of beer at police after goading officers during the rioting in Sunderland on 2 August. Williams shouted, “Put your shields down and let’s go, let’s fucking go” and took his shirt off as he squared up to police, running at the line of riot shields, the court was told. Sophie Allinson, defending, said her client had not been aware of any protest and his “moment of madness” came after he drank eight cans of lager.” [Source: Man jailed for six years after mob forced Romanians from car during Hull riot | UK news | The Guardian]

If these events had not been so tragic, you could almost laugh at such a defence.

The Potential for Social Change and Transformation: A further counterpoint is that individuals, through their agency, often act as agents of social change, transforming the very institutions that Mills suggests shape them. Social movements, grassroots activism, and innovative practices often emerge from individuals or groups challenging the constraints of existing institutions, rather than merely being shaped by them. This argument suggests that focusing too heavily on the determinative power of institutions can obscure the potential for individuals to reshape these structures, creating new forms of social organisation or roles that better reflect their values and aspirations.

What do I think? There’s a spectrum from the perspective that institutions are entirely in control of our lives (the sociological view), to one that says that we have complete control over our destiny (the existential one). We sit in different places on the spectrum depending on our age, commitments, personal values and the importance that we place on them. As a psychotherapist and educator, I hope that my clients and students would say that I sit much closer to the existential end.

Reference: Mills, C. W. (2000). The sociological imagination. Oxford University Press.

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National Service – nothing to be proud of…?

My grandfather (who was called up in the Second World War and served in the RAF) used to say that doing National Service was not something anyone should be proud of. Why would he believe that? I asked my research assistant and these were the suggestions that they came up with…

“Your grandfather’s perspective on National Service, particularly in the context of his experience during the Second World War, can be understood through several lenses.

Compulsion vs. Volition: During the Second World War, conscription was mandatory. Many individuals, including your grandfather, were called up to serve without a choice. Being forced into service can lead to a sense of resentment or disillusionment. The pride often associated with military service might stem from a voluntary decision to serve, rather than being compelled by the state.

Trauma and Hardship: Military service, especially during wartime, can be traumatic. The experiences of combat, witnessing death and destruction, and enduring harsh conditions can leave lasting scars. These experiences might overshadow any sense of pride, leading to a more negative view of the service.

Political and Moral Ambiguities: The Second World War, despite its portrayal as a ‘just war’ against tyranny, involved significant moral and ethical dilemmas. Bombing campaigns, civilian casualties, and the complexities of post-war geopolitics could contribute to a more critical view of one’s role in the conflict. Your grandfather might have grappled with these complexities and found it difficult to reconcile his service with a sense of pride.

Post-War Realities: After the war, many veterans returned to a society that struggled to reintegrate them. The transition to civilian life could be challenging, with issues such as unemployment, mental health problems, and a lack of support. These difficulties might colour one’s view of their service.

Generational and Personal Views: Different generations and individuals hold varied perspectives on military service. Your grandfather might have been part of a cohort that viewed national service as a duty rather than an achievement. Personal experiences, including the context in which he was raised and his personal values, would also shape his views.

“In sum, your grandfather’s belief that National Service was not something to be proud of likely stemmed from a combination of being conscripted rather than volunteering, the traumatic experiences of war, moral and political ambiguities, difficult post-war adjustments, and personal or generational views on military service.”

From what I knew of my grandfather, the loss of his eldest brother in the First World War certainly affected him. That war had fundamentally been a conflict between three cousins’ personal empires – Kaiser Wilhelm II, King George V, and Czar Nicholas II. Each was responding to a need to grow their economies and WW1 was, at least in major part, the consequence. My grandfather had been an active socialist and Unionist by the 1920s, and while he was a public servant throughout his life until his 60s, he had strong anti-monarchy/anti-imperial views. (He refused to accept his Imperial Service Medal from the Queen at Buckingham Palace, insisting that it be awarded to him among his colleagues in Wimbledon Postal Sorting Office.) That National Service was a conscription-based process in the service of what was still an imperial power, I am sure fueled his antipathy towards it. Yes, some people would perform feats of incredible personal daring. However, his brother Percy had done that. (After two years on the front in France as a private and lance corporal, and having survived leading a machine gun unit, he was commissioned as a Second Lieutenant. Within four months, it was his job to lead a squad of soldiers up a fortified hill, over the top and into German trenches. He reached the top ahead of his men, as was his job, and was mown down by the machine gun within the trench before his squad could kill them.) I don’t believe my grandfather saw Percy as a ‘hero’ or particularly ‘brave’; I am pretty sure that he saw him as a victim, as a pawn in three grown men’s puerile game of soldiers.

Grandad never spoke to me of pacifism. He had done his duty, though he did it with a particular style of practical cynicism.