Comment on Jim's Blog on Devil's Bargians

Comment on Jim's Blog on Devil's Bargains

Posting on Hal Rothman's Devil's Bargains

Twelfth Entry, 3 Dec Nov 05
Ray Swider



Rothman, Hal K., Devil’s Bargains


Last week, there were many criticisms of Reisner’s Cadillac Desert. Some were structural: the book was too long, too repetitive, and too detailed. Others were historical: Reisner was too “presentist” and the book smacked more of an op-ed piece than serious history. I was intrigued by Reisner’s thesis, especially his treatment of Government bureaucratic inertia. Consequently, I didn’t find much to critique, but this week I found Rothman’s argument less than compelling and have instead focused on the defects in Devil’s Bargains.

Structurally, Rothman was disorganized and repetitive. His case studies went from national parks to cities to ski resorts to gambling, but in an effort to compare these different cases of tourisms “devil’s bargains”, he strayed from any sense of structure. The book was chronologically constructed within each case, but overall, he looped back when making comparisons. For example, his analysis of the Grand Canyon as an example of national park tourism took the reader up through the early stages of automobile based tourism and then ended. Later, he came back to automobile tourism, but used a different example – Carlsbad Caverns. He spoke generally about automobile tourism and the development of roads, amenities, and the changed style of tourism, but did not connect that back to the National Parks. His case study on ski resorts ran the spectrum from railroads as the prime means of transportation to reach these places up to the present state of the resorts. When speaking about Las Vegas, he structured his chronology from the end of WWII up to the present. Admittedly, the chronologies do not match, but he developed no theme of the stages in the development of tourism within these different cases and across different time referents. The only point of comparison seemed to be in discussing the impact tourism had on natives, neo-natives, and the subsequent waves of tourists and “neo-neo-natives” (my term). His point seemed to be that each successive wave of newcomers changed the landscape to the detriment of the old-timers. I found nothing profound in that. I also didn’t see how these events were particularly “devil’s bargains”: bargains for whom? In many of the examples he gave, there was the implication that the natives invited and welcomed newcomers because of some desire to save the community or get rich quick, but his evidence was scant. It seemed more as if outsiders discovered a given location and invested in it. If the natives saw advantage, that’s understandable and if they failed to see disadvantage, that’s understandable, too.

The other major weakness I saw in Devil’s Bargains was Rothman’s assertion that the impact of tourism was somehow a Western phenomenon. He occasionally made reference to similar activities occurring in the East, but glossed over that fact and did little comparison and contrast. I cannot see much difference in the development of the various tourist venues he examined and Orlando/Disneyworld, Branson Missouri, Niagara Falls, Mackinac Island in Michigan, Chautauqua New York, Miami Beach, Atlantic City, the Hamptons, etc.,etc.,etc. The timeframe for Eastern tourist development is comparable to the examples he gave for the West. The examples themselves compare very well. The impacts and effects are similar and the sequence of native – neo-native – tourist is also comparable. I can offer examples here in the mid-Atlantic. The development of the Outer Banks has proceeded very much like many of the resort locales Rothman examines (especially the ski resorts). Another example is Garrett County, Maryland. My wife and I recently bought property there. Garrett County is a relatively poor place that relies on resort property as a major industry. The outsiders, who often become neo-natives, arrive from Washington, Baltimore, and Pittsburgh to enjoy the ski resort in winter and Deep Creek Lake in summer. The lake is a reservoir, constructed by the power company in the 1930s (shades of Cadillac Desert and water projects!) and now owned by the State of Maryland. It has attracted outsiders as a recreational resource for over seventy years and has extensive resort properties around it owned by outsiders, and managed by natives and neo-natives. Garrett County has made its own “devil’s bargain”, but this industry sustains the County and replaced a dying coal mining industry. I am confident that the story of Garrett County has been replicated countless times throughout the East.

I have one last criticism of Devil’s Bargains: ski bums. Rothman seems to bemoan the loss of ski bums as a source of labor (and I suspect local color) in the Western ski resorts. I wouldn’t be surprised if he were once a ski bum. I remember the ski bums when I lived out West, first in Colorado (where I learned to ski) and later in California where I lived for two years and spent considerable time on temporary duty. The one, salient thing I remember about ski bums is the last part of the name – they were, indeed, bums. There was nothing attractive about them or their lifestyle. They were like “beach bums” or “surfer dudes” or “skate board addicts” or any of the many groups of “rebels” that attract and repel people at the same time. I have one thing to say: “Get a job!”

Comment on Dan's (and Jim's) posting on Cadillac Desert

Ray's comment on Dan's blog for Reisner

Post on Cadillac Desert

Eleventh Entry, 27 Nov 05
Ray Swider



Reisner, Marc, Cadillac Desert


Turner lives! What Turner asserted, Reisner emphatically states and then proves through his examination of water, the American west, politics, money and power. Reisner speaks to the theme which I believe to be most evident in all of history – that historical “agency” is unequal; that those with the most power, money, and influence have the greatest agency; that the shapers and makers of history are those with the most agency. Reisner makes this point over and over. On page 296 he states that water flows towards those with money and power. On page 457 he contrasts Native American culture with that of white America and finds it “fragmented, atomized, and ephemeral” and its achievements modest. When quoting Glenn Saunders on page 434, he finds that America’s greatness came from its abundance of resources. That brings him full circle back to Turner, although I suspect that Reisner would prefer to be labeled an environmentalist, conservationist, and slow-growth advocate, and not a Turnerian.

I find Turner (and Reisner) compelling because of what they do tell us about ourselves and about the constants in human history. There is no escaping these constants. The sweep of history is a function of power and resources. The two go hand in glove. Where I find Turner compelling is that he (and Reisner) see competition for resources and resource exploitation in pursuit of money and power as the mainspring of history. Call this agency or invent another term, but it amounts to the same thing. That is not to say that there are not other historical actors – significant in their own right and acting on their own behalf – but the agency of these groups is limited by the money (resources), power, and influence, which they enjoy and employ. Reisner examines water as the key resource of the American west, but he could be talking about oil in the Middle East, specie during the European age of discovery, spices during the Renaissance, or many other significant resources which built empires, created competition, and destroyed empires.

The other feature of Reisner I find fascinating is his examination of the Bureau of Reclamation. What he describes is my experience in Government over the last fifteen years after I arrived in Washington. The business of government is business. The justification to spend tax dollars follows rigid methodologies, but the manipulation of data for political purposes, driven by favored constituencies, is what the bureaucracy does within those methodologies. The cost benefit analysis and benefit to cost ratio, which Reisner cites as Bureau practice, are essential elements for justifying authorizations and appropriations. It is amazing, however, how those “B/C ratios” can be twisted, turned, justified, managed, calculated, discounted, added, subtracted, multiplied, and divided to come up with the “right” answer. The symbiosis between Government bureaucrats, Congressional advocates, and influential constituents is astounding and would probably enrage the taxpayers if the truth were fully known. One of the keys to politics, though, is that they will never know, or become complicit themselves, or never care. That is the essence of American politics (and American history – North, South, East and West).

So, I believe Turner was right. And so is Reisner. But what I think they are right about is this – that the US has been blessed by an abundance of resources – land, water, minerals, energy, climate – that were there for the taking. That immigration and westering were necessary to grow a nation and exploit those resources. That population pressures were relieved by the frontier. That extensive growth could be profitable and tolerated because of the abundance of resources and emptiness of the continent. And that with the closing of the frontier, filling of the continent (at least its most desirable locations), and the depletion of resources, the US externalized its politics in the search for more and cheaper resources, including labor. I believe this to be the sweep of American history. The study of that history should be utilitarian in that it causes us to be honest about our success (and failure) and inform public policy about what to do next, why, and how.

Tenth Post -- Roy Baker Problem

Tenth Entry, 20 Nov 05
Ray Swider



Research on Roy Baker Problem


As I stated last Monday, I will be looking at garrison life – health, morale, and welfare – and the difficulties the Army had keeping troops trained and occupied. One aspect of this will be military discipline, so I intend to look at the disciplinary atmosphere, which should include the Commander’s authority, the way he exercised that authority, and the application of military law.

I have made a start on finding source material on garrison life and the Commander’s legal authority. I have not had a chance to go to the National Archives and look for unit logs, but I have spoken to the historian at the US Army Center for Military History at Carlisle Barracks. He said that if this material is anywhere, it would be in the archives. Brian and I have corresponded about this and are collaborating on finding this material. He went to the Archives Friday, but came up empty. I’d hoped that the logs might show a pattern of disciplinary problems and the means taken to enforce discipline.

In a broader sense, I have leads on several secondary sources about late 19th century Army life that I got from Carlisle Barracks and from some of you. I’ve looked at Don Rickey’s Forty Miles a Day on Beans and Hay, which appears promising. It is available online from the GMU library. Another online resource at the library is Michael Tate’s The Frontier Army and the Settlement of the West. I went through this quickly, but it appears to have a nice summary of the uses to which the soldier was put in Western outposts. I visited the library this weekend and checked out a few more secondary sources of this type: John D. Billings’ Hardtack and Coffee: The Unwritten Story of Army Life; and Russell Weigley’s History of the United States Army. I know of Weigley’s expertise from past experience. This should be a good overview of the late 19th century Army. I shared four journal articles with Carrie that she posted to the class blog, also of this type, and I have interlibrary loan requests posted for Oliver Knight’s Life and Manners in the Frontier Army and Edward M. Coffman’s The Old Army. I also found a general overview of late 19th century Army forts and posts in the West by Robert W. Frazer called Forts of the West, and I have an interlibrary loan request for Gerald M. Adams’ The Post near Cheyenne: the History of Fort D. A. Russell.

Legal texts have been much tougher to come by. There are a few that Carlisle Barracks recommended, but they are held by law libraries, which appear to be much more careful about loan of their materials. Nonetheless, I have interlibrary loan requests posted for several: Lewis Mayers’ The American Legal System: the Administration of Justice in the United States by Judicial, Administrative, Military, and Arbitral Tribunal, Walter Thompson Cox’ The Army and the Constitution, Richard Kohn’s The U.S. Military under the Constitution of the U.S., George B. Davis’ Military Laws of the U.S. (both the 1891 and 1913 editions), and Louis Fisher’s Military Tribunals and Presidential Power. All of those are held by one of the schools within the Washington area university library consortium, but as I said before, the law libraries (including GMU’s) make borrowers go through the formal interlibrary loan system. I have a couple of more leads to follow up via the Library of Congress and Fort Meyers (National War College).

As soon as I get through some of these sources, I’ll synopsize and make available to any and all.

Comment on John's Post

Comments on John's Post on Sanchez

Ninth Posting

Ninth Entry, 13 Nov 05
Ray Swider



Sanchez, George J, Becoming Mexican American


This week we had two books to read. I’ve held off discussing Indians in Unexpected Places because I will lead Monday night’s discussion. So, for this entry, I will focus exclusively on Becoming Mexican American.

Sanchez does a nice job. I was particularly impressed by his use of naturalization records as a source of statistical data. He admits that this source is limited and probably skewed by some of the cultural factors he is examining (women are underrepresented in his data largely because men were more likely to apply for naturalization), but he grounds his analysis in the data and uses individual testimony, anecdotes, and other records to illustrate the points he makes about the Mexican-American community in Los Angeles during the first half of the 20th century.

One intriguing thing Sanchez does is to draw some comparisons between his subject and the experiences of other immigrant communities in the United States. He also does the same for other minorities, but that is not the focus of his book. He also highlights the contrasts that exist. I would like to explore this a bit more. There are some generalizations I’d like to draw from Sanchez’ work, but I have no particular proof, and I am extrapolating from his work by drawing some speculative conclusions.

He compares the efforts of European immigrant groups to assimilate, but shows how much more difficult assimilation was for the Mexican immigrant than for an Irishman or Italian or…... This may have had much to do with skin color or language (at least in the case of the Irishman, since English was at least a second language for many Irish). The discriminatory factor of race and skin color probably held back the Native American (Deloria speaks to this), the Asian, and the Negro. Of course, the European immigrant felt discrimination based on cultural differences, but was also able to assimilate more readily, which has not been the case for other racial and ethnic groups. This very fact illustrates the subtle distinctions that can be drawn between race and ethnicity.

There is another assimilation factor, which Sanchez touches on – the proximity of the mother country. He states that many immigrants returned home to Mexico, or intended to return home, or were forcibly repatriated in the early 30’s. Even though he cites a statistic on the large number of Italian immigrants who returned to Italy, I’ve got to imagine that the difficult logistics of return forced European immigrants to want to assimilate, even though there was nostalgia for home and the practical need for clannishness in ghetto or community once in the United States. The Mexican simply did not have as large a logistical impediment to returning home – a psychological impediment, perhaps, or political, but not a logistical one. Of course assimilation was difficult for other reasons, most of all because of resistance from the Anglo community. The same held for Negroes, Asians, and Indians. Nonetheless, I have to believe that many Mexicans simply did not want to assimilate because they simply didn’t need to assimilate (and Sanchez broadly hints at this likelihood).

Sanchez focuses on the first half of the 20th century, but he hints at a watershed in the Great Depression, when 2nd generation Mexican-Americans came of age and advanced as social and political leaders in the Mexican-American community. He proposes this period as a watershed, but does not speak about what was on the other side – the second half of the 20th century. Again, I have not done the research, but I can draw on much of my life’s experiences watching political and cultural events that happened during my lifetime. Today, there is again a huge influx of Mexican immigrants to the United States (and other Latin Americans, too). There seems to be a repetition of the experiences Sanchez describes from the pre-Depression side of the watershed. The immigrants are here for economic opportunity, or to escape war and oppression in their homelands, or a combination of these factors. They are preyed upon by industry and the established community (still predominantly Anglo) for cheap labor. There is still a public rationale for porous borders because these people accept jobs that Americans (not only Anglo Americans) won’t. They are discriminated against in housing, schooling, health care, and in just about any other way possible. They are overwhelmingly Catholic and of peasant stock. They are in our midst, but essentially go unnoticed and are “invisible”. Admittedly, the experience of Mexicans emigrating to the U.S. in the early 20th century was probably more dangerous than today, but that is my conjecture, based more on wishful thinking than the actual experience of today’s immigrant, of which I am very unfamiliar. So, I am not sure we can draw many useful conclusions from Sanchez because I think we are probably unwilling to do so. Again, I believe histories like Sanchez’ should inform debate and the formation of public policy, however, there is little chance of that happening if the public willingly turns a blind eye to its own history and experience. I thank Sanchez for his scholarship. I wish it were more public and the subject of greater political discourse.

Comments on Rick Gault's Blog on Sandweiss

comments on Rick Gault's blog on Sandweiss

Eighth Posting

Eighth Entry, 5 Nov 05
Ray Swider



Sandweiss, Martha A., Print the Legend


“A picture is worth a thousand words”. So goes the old adage, which is essentially at the heart of Sandweiss’ account of photography in the 19th century American West. However, the daguerreotypes, tintypes, paper prints from wet and dry-plate techniques, and lithographs and panoramas constructed from these photographs all accompanied written and oral accounts of the explorations, journeys, novels, commercial enterprises, which served as the rationales for photographic enterprise. Sandweiss goes further. A “thousand word” picture accompanied by a thousand word written account is more than two thousand words of description – the whole is definitely greater than the sum of its parts. Sandweiss’ point is that application of this technology, although limited by its primitiveness, was essential to its practitioners and sponsors. The accounts of the Corps of Topographical Engineers, for example, were made more compelling by the addition of illustration. Traditional sketches, drawings, and maps bolstered these Government reports. Photographs made them more realistic, whether in stand-alone mode or as an aid to post-expedition lithographs and drawings. These reports served as justification for further exploration or to promote Western settlement, or as the basis for surveying and promoting railroad routes. Other photographic enterprises, especially those of a commercial nature, extolled the virtues of the West in a bid to attract settlement, promote the railroads, or were collected simply for resale. Many capitalized on the mythic qualities of the West established in the 19th century by American explorers and adventurers.

What intrigued me most are the parallels which can be drawn by the use of technology in the 19th century Western US and the use of technology today. This account is of photography and imagery. There is considerable power in visual imagery. Pedagogical theory places visual imagery rather high on the list of learning techniques as an aid to memory, above the spoken and written word (lecture and reading) and below practical, hands-on experience (writing and experimentation). The sponsors and practitioners of photography in the 19th century West worked around the practical limitations inherent in the taking of pictures, their storage, transport, and display. Daguerreotypes were certainly not conducive to publication, but made excellent visual records for display and reproduction by other techniques. Later print techniques (wet and dry plate negatives) were difficult to manage in the field, but produced higher quality pictures that could be printed and published as an accompaniment to written texts. So too, modern technology has improved the visual quality, portability, and utility of imagery. My father was a typesetter by trade. He worked closely with photoengravers, whose skill was not that much advanced over the lithographers and wood-block craftsmen of the 19th century. Both typesetting and photoengraving were trades, but their practitioners also considered themselves craftsmen and artisans. Around 1975, my father went back to school because advanced optics and photographic techniques were rapidly replacing “cold type” and chemical etching of metal plates. Film could be adroitly manipulated to produce magnificent publications that artfully combined print and imagery in creative ways. The whole was greater than the sum of its parts and growing greater still. What an author could conceive, a publisher could produce. Fortunately, my father retired before the onset of the digital age, which replaced these photographic techniques (and eliminated his craft) and made everyone a publisher. A student today can produce a publication, which in form (if not content) vastly exceeds the quality and artistry of professional publications of twenty-five years ago. The examples of History 120 blogs, which Dr. Petrik showed us last week are more artful and creative than professional publications of ten years ago, solely because of digital media.

In the end, however, scholarship will depend on the spadework of research, the analytical qualities of the researcher/writer, an author’s attention to detail, and style. Technology made 19th century depictions of the Western US more compelling and more powerful and certainly contributed to mythmaking. However, 19th century photographs could not stand by themselves. Written accounts formed the bulk of the historical record. That record is enriched by the photograph, but not replace by it. Likewise, the technical tricks of the digital age can create or enhance myths or buttress good scholarship, but can never replace that scholarship.

Seventh Posting for History 616

Seventh Entry, 30 Oct 05
Ray Swider



Irwin, Mary Ann and James F. Brooks (editors), Women and Gender in the American West


As I have stated in previous postings, I am not well-versed in cultural studies, cultural history, or gender studies. Irwin and Brooks have focused the readings in this book on women’s roles in Western American history, so for me this book provides new and challenging material. I also have a built in bias to overcome in reading this type of work: I am white, male, and socially conservative. Nonetheless, I read Women and Gender carefully and with an open mind I believe.

I actually enjoyed and was intrigued by the Introduction by Jensen and Miller. They summarized the problem of women’s history quite nicely: that historians are taught to build on a previous work or a body of work, or to challenge that work. Consequently, there was no place for women’s history until it was invented. I also like the summary Jensen and Miller made of the body of women’s history in the American West. It featured four distinct models for the roles women played: gentle tamers; sun bonneted helpmates; hell-raisers; and bad women. This seemed like a reasonable assessment (who am I to judge?) and they offered specific examples of the types of work that fell in each category. They went on to challenge the profession to reassess these stereotypes, contrast these images to the reality of women’s historical lives, and examine case studies of new roles or images for historical women in the West. Jensen and Miller suggested that some unexamined areas might be an examination of the actuality of the migration west, a reexamination of the diverse demography throughout the west especially the varying urban and rural landscapes, a look at multicultural relations between women, and a review of women’s various occupations. This was a nice framework for the subject at hand, which helped me understand the purpose(s) of Women and Gender. So far so good, but……..

At this point, the next several chapters of the book dealt with theory. At least, I supposed that the authors were espousing a theory of women’s studies applied to Western history. There was considerable discussion about the definitions of gender as opposed to sexual identity. There was much discussion about the need for cross-cultural approaches towards women’s Western history. There was much that was asserted, but I saw little evidence to support the assertions. At the conclusion of the book, I realized that the latter chapters were case studies that I believed were meant to be illustrative of the theory, but the reader had to make the connections. I took copious notes. I do that for all course readings in order to have a means to review what I read, but I found that my notes were more numerous for the sections on theory than for any other sections of the book. Perhaps this was because the theory was dry, hard to follow, and unfamiliar. For the case studies, I took fewer notes, but became engrossed in the stories. Madsen’s essay on Mormon women and the practice of polygamy filled a huge hole in my understanding of Mormonism. Brooks’ discussion of New Mexican borderlands cross-cultural relations, especially regarding women as captives, slaves, or objects of barter was captivating. Cavanaugh’s chapter on Western Canadian women’s rights was intriguing. I know far too little about any aspect of Canadian history. There were several other fascinating chapters that provided me with new insights into women’s history, Western history, and American history: Irwin on women’s role in charitable work in California in the late 19th century; Hudson’s accounts of the civil trials of Sharon vs. Sharon and Sharon vs. Hill and their meanings for women of color and women as objects of a dominant male society; Moore’s description of the Indian “demonstrators” of New Mexico and the beginnings of Western tourism; and Jacobs’ two case studies of interracial marriage. However, I do not see how this small sample size of case studies proves the theoretical assertions of the earlier chapters. For example, Johnson makes the interesting observation that the white, male orientation of the West resulted in a late 19th century “crisis of manliness” between “manly men” and Masculine men”. I found this to be an incredible statement backed by very circumstantial and tenuous evidence (I guess that shows my white, male bias!).

At the end, I found myself intrigued by the case studies and the interesting stories they told. I don’t accept the theory, however, because I don’t think the case has been made. There certainly is a “women’s history” in the West that should be told. I am not sure, however, that it makes much difference for anyone (like me) who believes that historical studies can and should be utilitarian. Women’s history has a context. Castaneda provided that context when she stated that the stereotypes of women’s history are shaped by the political economy. That is something I proposed last week: that the political economy determines agency, not just for women, but for everyone. Those who manage the political economy enhance their agency and those who don’t have their agency diminished, or are forgotten. Unfortunately, it seems to me that women’s agency was diminished by a white, male dominated political economy. As a consequence, women’s history was largely ignored, in the American West and elsewhere, and requires discovery, invention, and illumination. I can sympathize with women historians, but I am not sure that they have substantiated their theories with the history they have written.

Comments on Jim Johnson's Blog on Women and Gender

statement

Sixth Posting, 23 October 05

Sixth Entry, 23 Oct 05
Ray Swider



Robbins, William G., Colony and Empire


This is the type of history I enjoy. Robbins says his purpose is to “search for a general model to explain, over time, material/historical change and related phenomena for a particular place.” I earned my master’s degree in area studies, which included a healthy dose of political science and a healthy dose of history. Political Science dealt with general explanatory models and history was the source of data for the political scientists and their models, so I have a bias towards this type of work. However, Robbins disappoints. He explains his thesis by defining capitalism as a general explanatory model: “…..the model(s) of production inherent in what we call capitalism, the basic organizing principle for much of the global economy from the onset of the Industrial Revolution to the present.” I accept his thesis to this point, but Robbins quotes further from Martin J. Sklar to propose that capitalism is more than economics:

“It is a system of social relations expressed in characteristic
class structures, modes of consciousness, patterns of authority,
and relations of power. It is property relations; it is class
relations; it is a sociopolitical mode of control over economics
and over a broad field of social behavior besides; it is a system
of law and governance; it is ideology.”

I agree with Sklar, and by extension Robbins, in every aspect of this definition save one: the last. Capitalism, as practiced in the United States and as evident in the American West, which Robbins maintains was a place of experimentation for American capitalism, certainly determined the economic and political landscape. As a consequence, it touched everyone’s life and affected “agency”. The concept of “agency” is an interesting one and one with which I was not, and am not terribly familiar. My experience at George Mason over the last year has introduced me to this concept and I am still grappling with it. But it appears to me that the economic life of any society determines agency. In Robbins’ capitalist model, the agency of a laborer is determined in large measure by his or her conditions of employment. Laborers formed unions to improve their agency collectively. Owners, entrepreneurs, and capitalists have long sought to limit union power because it inhibits their agency. So, Robbins and Sklar, by examining the political economy of capitalism help to define the limits of agency. However, I don’t believe capitalism is ideology and I don’t believe so because of agency. The economic basis for the market, which is at the heart of capitalism, is agency. This agency is common to all human beings anywhere and everywhere. It is the desire to improve one’s lot; to earn one’s daily bread to make the best bargain possible; to acquire and possess; to survive and to thrive. These are fundamental principles of human behavior. They are really anthropological, sociological, and psychological as well as historical. The fact that market relations proved the most efficient means for the most number of individuals in pursuit of these ends is an outcome of human history and economic and political experimentation. It is an artifact of human agency. But it is not ideology in the way socialism or fascism or other ideologies are. Those are political ideologies that distorted market relations either to offset other distortions (the altruism of ideologues and politicians) or to favor a particular political class or group. Robbins and Sklar are looking at distortions in capitalist market relations (the exploitation of Western labor and resources) and not some generalized ideological model.

I was captivated by the information Robbins had regarding the importation of business practices and methods into the American West. I doubt that this was unique to this region and comparable models can probably be found for other parts of the world in the late 19th/early 20th centuries where the Industrial Revolution intruded. What was unique to the American west was the possibility of statehood and inclusion in American politics. There was much in Colony and Empire that was new to me and added to my knowledge of American and Western American history. But I would argue against Robbins’ thesis: that he was looking at a generalized model of capitalist ideology. He may have been looking at the practice of capitalist economics in a particular time and place, unique mostly because of the timeframe – the onset of the Industrial Revolution. And he may have examined American political-economic practices which endure today and have been exported elsewhere. But to be truly enduring, those practices will change – must change in order to provide the efficiencies that the market demands. The market may be brutal and ruthless – as in the export of jobs overseas, and it may invite political backlash. But a drive for efficiency is at the heart of the market. Anything which impairs or distorts that efficiency, including ideology, is not market capitalism.

Comment on Audrey's Post, 23 Oct

comment on Audrey's post 23 Oct 05

My comment on Audrey's Post, 23 Oct

Audrey,

I agree with your feelings about Robbins being plodding and serious. I'm afraid writers of his type cannot help themselves. It reminds me of Soviet area studies which I majored in for my first master's degree. Those folks took themselves sooooo seriously.

I must admit, however, that I do find his ideas compelling. I really believe that all the other historical themes we have been exposed to are framed by economics and the politics which serve those economic relations. Robbins, however, like many writers of his ilk, treats capitalist political economy as some sort of plot. I wrote about the success of the market from the perspective of human nature -- it just works so well to provide people what they need to earn a livelihood. Nothing extraordinary or ultraserious about that.

He did meander, too. I kep waiting for him to tie his chapters back to his thesis. I suppose he did, but the journey was very circuitous.

Ray

4:41 PM

Sixth Posting, 23 Oct 05

Sixth Entry, 23 Oct 05
Ray Swider



Robbins, William G., Colony and Empire


This is the type of history I enjoy. Robbins says his purpose is to “search for a general model to explain, over time, material/historical change and related phenomena for a particular place.” I earned my master’s degree in area studies, which included a healthy dose of political science and a healthy dose of history. Political Science dealt with general explanatory models and history was the source of data for the political scientists and their models, so I have a bias towards this type of work. However, Robbins disappoints. He explains his thesis by defining capitalism as a general explanatory model: “…..the model(s) of production inherent in what we call capitalism, the basic organizing principle for much of the global economy from the onset of the Industrial Revolution to the present.” I accept his thesis to this point, but Robbins quotes further from Martin J. Sklar to propose that capitalism is more than economics:

“It is a system of social relations expressed in characteristic
class structures, modes of consciousness, patterns of authority,
and relations of power. It is property relations; it is class
relations; it is a sociopolitical mode of control over economics
and over a broad field of social behavior besides; it is a system
of law and governance; it is ideology.”

I agree with Sklar, and by extension Robbins, in every aspect of this definition save one: the last. Capitalism, as practiced in the United States and as evident in the American West, which Robbins maintains was a place of experimentation for American capitalism, certainly determined the economic and political landscape. As a consequence, it touched everyone’s life and affected “agency”. The concept of “agency” is an interesting one and one with which I was not, and am not terribly familiar. My experience at George Mason over the last year has introduced me to this concept and I am still grappling with it. But it appears to me that the economic life of any society determines agency. In Robbins’ capitalist model, the agency of a laborer is determined in large measure by his or her conditions of employment. Laborers formed unions to improve their agency collectively. Owners, entrepreneurs, and capitalists have long sought to limit union power because it inhibits their agency. So, Robbins and Sklar, by examining the political economy of capitalism help to define the limits of agency. However, I don’t believe capitalism is ideology and I don’t believe so because of agency. The economic basis for the market, which is at the heart of capitalism, is agency. This agency is common to all human beings anywhere and everywhere. It is the desire to improve one’s lot; to earn one’s daily bread to make the best bargain possible; to acquire and possess; to survive and to thrive. These are fundamental principles of human behavior. They are really anthropological, sociological, and psychological as well as historical. The fact that market relations proved the most efficient means for the most number of individuals in pursuit of these ends is an outcome of human history and economic and political experimentation. It is an artifact of human agency. But it is not ideology in the way socialism or fascism or other ideologies are. Those are political ideologies that distorted market relations either to offset other distortions (the altruism of ideologues and politicians) or to favor a particular political class or group. Robbins and Sklar are looking at distortions in capitalist market relations (the exploitation of Western labor and resources) and not some generalized ideological model.

I was captivated by the information Robbins had regarding the importation of business practices and methods into the American West. I doubt that this was unique to this region and comparable models can probably be found for other parts of the world in the late 19th/early 20th centuries where the Industrial Revolution intruded. What was unique to the American west was the possibility of statehood and inclusion in American politics. There was much in Colony and Empire that was new to me and added to my knowledge of American and Western American history. But I would argue against Robbins’ thesis: that he was looking at a generalized model of capitalist ideology. He may have been looking at the practice of capitalist economics in a particular time and place, unique mostly because of the timeframe – the onset of the Industrial Revolution. And he may have examined American political-economic practices which endure today and have been exported elsewhere. But to be truly enduring, those practices will change – must change in order to provide the efficiencies that the market demands. The market may be brutal and ruthless – as in the export of jobs overseas, and it may invite political backlash. But a drive for efficiency is at the heart of the market. Anything which impairs or distorts that efficiency, including ideology, is not market capitalism.