By David Mayeda

In the 1960s and ’70s, labeling theory (a.k.a., social reaction theory) gained criminological prominence. Demonstrating a shift towards the critical criminology school of thought, labeling theory questions the broader power structure by asking two overarching questions:

  1. How do those with substantial power in society label people with less power and their behaviors deviant?
  2. What effects do those labels have on the future lives and behaviors of the people being labeled?

Labeling theorists, such as Edward Lemert, note that almost all people engage in primary deviance – petty crimes (e.g., truancy, petty theft) during their youth. This is normal. However, when people engage in these types of behavior and get caught, sometimes the social reaction is overly punitive. When this happens, the normalized behavior is redefined as criminogenic behavior, and the individual’s identity transforms from normal, everyday kid to “screw up,” “problem child,” “criminal,” etc.

As the self-fulfilling prophecy manifests, the individual becomes ostracized from conventional peers and adults, and finds comfort engulfed by similarly defined peers, all leading to engagement in secondary deviance, where the individual’s roles and identities revolve increasingly around criminalized behaviors. In turn, the individual’s deviant master status is further cemented.

Labeling theorists also suggested a deviant master status gets cemented as one goes further through the criminal (or juvenile) justice system, from arrest to conviction to incarceration, and that degradation ceremonies in formal, state justice systems are highly effective in cementing the criminally stigmatized master status.

Also of critical importance, Howard Becker argued that moral crusaders were those with conventional power who thrust their values upon society by stigmatizing minority groups. Working in concert, moral entrepreneurs included those who would utilize propaganda purported by moral crusaders in order to profit financially through minority groups’ stigmatization.

This aspect of labeling theory is important to remember because it is those with power who create society’s rules and laws, and use the law to protect their privilege. Hence, moral crusaders and entrepreneurs have the social capital – the money, the connections, the clout – to work with media, businesses, and politicians in suppressing any contestation to the status quo by labeling threats as deviant.

Of course minorities are not only labeled deviant as criminals. Additionally, they can be stigmatized through labels tied to mental illness. Such labels rely on the medical field’s social prestige, and focus on individuals’ alleged mental health problems (e.g., inability to focus, propensity to resist authority, substance use concerns), thereby detracting attention away from broader social inequities that ultimately cause disproportionately high levels of mental health concerns in minority communities.

And now onto The Wire

In this series of clips from season four, we see “Major Colvin” (or “Bunny,” now retired from the Baltimore police force) working with a university professor and his graduate students. The team is running an experimental alternative middle school class for students who have not adjusted well to mainstream courses, which includes main character “Namond.” The alternative course’s developers feel by removing disruptive students, the mainstream courses can function more smoothly, while the sequestered students can receive more attention. Still in the class’s early stages, Namond, does not trust the situation he has been forced into:

http://youtu.be/EwcQ4JMMwHo

Notice how at 0:45 of this video, graduate assistant, “Miss Mason,” labels students with a variety of mental health conditions. In doing so, concerns are individualized, disconnected from the poverty that encapsulates the students’ proximal surroundings, as well as from the extensive social stratification that characterizes Baltimore as a whole.

And at the end of the video as Namond challenges the class leadership, notice how he embraces his identity as a “troubled youth,” talking back to the teachers and offering his hands so he can be cuffed. He fulfills the prophecy tagged upon him, while engulfed by similarly defined students.

Now fast-forward to a point when this class has matured a bit. Most of the students have developed a better rapport with the teachers, but still question the value that their educational system offers:

http://youtu.be/jimQPVQOknc

Here the “corner boys” (and girls) educate the teachers on the ins and outs of slingin’ drugs. At 2:00, see how Major Colvin likens the education system to any other system that teaches youth to manipulate their surroundings, to “practice getting over, try runnin’ all different kind of games. You know it’s practice for the corner (where drugs are sold), right?”

Perhaps Major Colvin is critiquing the youth and their efforts in the mainstream education system. However, the youth go on to explain how the capitalist system works in their neighborhood, with the panopticon persistently present; someone with higher authority is always watching the subordinate workers to ensure management is not cheated. Here, we see the labeled youth, segregated from their peers demonstrate their skillsets, which have been ignored by the mainstream system.

And at 4:42, Namond returns to drive home labeling theory’s key dimension. Although these youth of color are labeled animals, larger institutions in society – Enron Corporation, government, alcohol and cigarette industries, sports – also cheat, and do so in much more profound ways as society’s real killers. “D” straight up asks, “And drugs, pays your salaries, right?,” revealing that Major Colvin and his colleagues may inadvertently be moral entrepreneurs who profit through governmental funding to run programs for youth that have been labeled “troubled.”

Namond begins to sum it up: “We do the same thing as you all. Except when we do it, it’s like, ‘Oh my God, these kids is animals,’ like it’s the end of the world comin’. Man that’s bullshit… Hypocritical.” Zinobia closes out, “I mean yeah we got our thing but, it’s just part of the big thing.”

Yup, but in accordance with labeling theory, those with widespread power who truly profit by exploiting others through the big thing (i.e., capitalism) are labeled innovative businessmen, not animals.

By David Mayeda

As noted in my previous post, there are rare cases when mainstream media do a little sociological work to explain criminal behaviors in the news, albiet when the offenders are of high social status. But in most cases, the news simply reports crime, noting what parties were involved and how they were impacted. This leads readers to believe that crime is a manifestation of individualized behavior, and that is largely what we see in this story from The Guardian (a media source which I admit, often has excellent reporting).

The story, titled “Three teenagers sentenced for homeless man’s murder,” details a particularly brutal act of violence, where three boys have been adjudicated for killing a homeless individual. If one reads through the story, the information presented essentially (1) recounts how the murder took place, (2) describes the sentences levied upon the offenders, (3) notes two of the boys’ criminogenic family ties, and (4) offers information on the victim’s experience. Virtually no text is offered that might explain this violent act by way of sociological analysis, except however, a significant comment from the judge:

    The judge told the mother: “You have another son who is serving life for murder. There are not many parents who have that sort of personal agony to bear. But then again, not that many mothers would have shown themselves to be either so unwilling or unable to shoulder the responsibility of motherhood as you have.”

So if any explanation for this very heavy violence is presented at all, it falls upon the mother. This lack of broader explanations illustrates mainstream media’s typical approach to crime. Yet considering the severity of this crime and the offenders’ youth, one would think this would be a case when the media needs to look for broader explanations.

However, no speculative questions are offered which might tap into fathering (or lack thereof), socio-economic status, or the fact that the young offenders were all male. No doubt had the youthful offenders been girls, there would have been a major discussion on girls being out of control. But when three boys engage in extreme violence, broader cultural discourse around violent masculinity is completely dismissed.

In short there is no sociology whatsoever, no work presented by the media that would speak to wider, more complex causes underpinning the violence…just a quick jab attributing youthful violence to poor mothering. And finally, one must wonder, had these boys been of color and/or of immigrant background, would the media have highlighted those statuses as potential causes of the violence?

Photo via The Guardian.

By David Mayeda

On occasion, mainstream media do a little sociology when covering crime-based news. A few recent stories in the New Zealand Herald serve as good examples. First this story titled, “Cop drank and gambled away stolen drug cash” (20 April), reporting how a former drug squad detective “was sentenced to 80 hours of community work and ordered to pay reparation of $3467.50” after he was caught stealing money seized in a raid, as well as from an in-house collection.

Granted, this is not a heinous, violent crime; nor is it a white-collar crime tied to tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars. But look at the degree to which the offender is described, which lends to reader sympathy. To begin with, the story’s subtitle reads, “Stressed officer’s actions a cry for help, says lawyer.” Additionally, in the middle of the story a robust section is devoted that further contextualizes the detective’s alleged illegal actions:

    The court heard that before the thefts Langford had several “issues” including the death of his father, a relationship break up, and being diagnosed with cancer.

    “On top of that he felt tremendous work pressure which wore upon him,” lawyer Richard Earwaker told the court.

    “It’s one of those situations where you have a man who had an otherwise good career, had performed ably and well.

    “He acknowledged he had become somewhat bitter and twisted after spending years in the force. Disillusionment was the only causal factor. It was progressively building up.

    “There were a whole series of major personal and professional situations contributing to where he ended up and decisions he made. He is extremely remorseful and ashamed of where he is standing right now.”

    Langford had tried to speak to his bosses about being “unhappy” at work.

    “It doesn’t seem to have been recognised that he was in trouble. It seems that this is almost a cry for help,” Mr Earwaker said.

Here, we actually see a little bit of sociology, as the story’s author taps into a meso-level analysis, describing how personal health problems, familial tragedy, breakup with an intimate partner, and work-based concerns collectively impacted the detective in adverse ways. While the Herald is not necessarily excusing the detective’s actions, the paper is making a serious effort to explore multiple background reasons as to why the detective broke the law. And one might argue this presented backdrop increases the likelihood that readers will feel more compassion for the detective. Onto the next example…

This story (22 April), titled “Rugby player losing battle with demons” is about one of New Zealand’s male rugby stars who plays for the famed “All Blacks.” The athlete was recently charged with assault, tied to an alleged conflict with his partner; he has openly apologized for his actions: “To my partner and her family I just want to say that I’m sorry to hurt someone that you love and care so much for. To be in this situation, I know it’s hurting them and it’s definitely hurting me, so I apologise to them.”

This story has been granted extensive media attention, largely because the alleged offender is of celebrity status. Additionally the athlete was part of New Zealand’s 2012 “It’s Not Okay” campaign, which aims to prevent and reduce family violence, and he appears to be demonstrating a good deal of public remorse.

Furthermore, like the previous story, this one has led to the Herald doing a bit of sociological work, writing quite extensively how participation in rugby at the elite level too often contributes to serious mental health concerns. In fact the subtitle of this story reads, “Rugby stars predisposed to suffering mental health challenges because of anxiety, says players’ union boss.” A majority of this particular story also details the hardships that often accompany athletic participation for males:

    Little work has been done on how young players cope, but a players’ association survey of former players found many struggled with life after retirement. The survey of 123 former professional players found they suffered from:

        • Feelings of depression or despair (35 per cent).
        • High levels of anxiety and stress (30 per cent).
        • Alcohol or substance abuse (23 per cent).
        • Relationship issues (20 per cent).
        • Aggression issues (13 per cent).

    “We believe that athletes do have a higher propensity to have challenges in this [area] than normal people,” Mr Nichol told the Herald yesterday.

    “We do a lot physically for athletes but we don’t do enough mentally.”

    Over a five-year period up to 2011, 81 players sought professional help for off-field issues. While incidents such as Savea’s alleged assault of his partner hit the headlines, many others were averted through successful intervention, said Mr Nichol.

    “The reality is we are always going to have players who come into the professional rugby ranks who have challenges. We just need to get our heads around that and say ‘okay, how do we deal with it’? When we stack up against other sporting codes, we do a lot. We do pretty well, but we are the first to say we need to do better.”

Again, the Herald is not making excuses for family violence, but it is making a strong effort to explain how sport can harm athletes, which may contribute to subsequent deviance. The story surely could have gone further, tapping into broader masculinity issues, but at least we get a hint of sociology here. And again like the story with the detective, the Herald presents this story in a way that lends readers to feel compassion for the offender – he is young and has been thrust into a potentially harmful work-based environment.

So why in these two stories do we get a little bit of sociology, some broader social explanations to criminal offending? Why are these stories written in ways that help readers feel compassion for the alleged offenders? In both cases, the alleged offenders already had high social status. The detective worked for the police force and is male. Think about the multitude of offenders who have been arrested for theft. How many even have stories written about them at all? And if they do, the news typically only reports the crime’s basic details (e.g., who’s involved, what the crime is, and who is affected). The news almost never educates the public, explaining how family problems, romantic hardships, or toxic-working environments (let alone poverty) can influence individuals’ criminogenic behaviors. But in this case for an otherwise law-abiding detective, broader explanations are presented abundantly.

For the rugby star, it is worth noting that he is a male of color, of Samoan descent. Imagine then if a young Samoan male, but not an athletic celebrity, was arrested for assault of a domestic partner – would the news even report it? And if they did, even if the offender was publicly remorseful, would the news explore potential ties between work-based anxieties and the violent behavior? Probably not. Instead, the news would simply report the basic information provided by police, and that would end it. However, in the case of a rugby star who plays for a nationally revered team, mainstream media takes extra steps to tie sport’s detrimental influences on the player. So for these higher-status individuals, criminogenic behavior is not individualized. Instead the criminogenic behavior is tied to institutional hardship.

These individuals’ social statuses and cultural capital appear to have shaped how the media reported their alleged criminal behaviors: not only do readers get broader explanations for their actions, but readers are also led to feel offender sympathy.

Up next: When Mainstream Media Does No Sociology on Crime

Photos via the New Zealand Herald (here and here).

By David Mayeda

For Emile Durkheim, anomie was a state of normlessness, a society where individuals’ connections with each other had become frayed. This happened during times of massive social change and could lead to heavier patterns of suicide. For Durkheim, the other critical aspect of anomie was that it existed when there was an absence in social regulations that would help to guide behaviours. Or put in more Durkheim-esque terms, anomie equates to normlessness in social regulations.

That is partly what we see in this clip from HBO’s awesome drama, The Wire (season 3). Here Major Colvin (a.k.a., “Bunny”, pictured below) has established a safe zone of sorts for mid-level drug dealers from a variety of gangs. This sector becomes called “Hamsterdam” after a youth misinterprets the area being compared to Amsterdam where drug use is largely decriminalized. There are very little regulations in “Hamsterdam,” as the drug dealers may freely sell their products while law enforcement turns a blind eye, as long as there is no overt physical violence.

In short, dealers may deal, and users may buy and use without many legally enforced regulations or forms of social control. It should also be noted that Durkheim felt crime was a normal part of society. But, when the level of crime passed a certain threshold, then crime would no longer be considered normal and instead would be an indicator of society being truly sick. But before we get to the clip, let’s also account for Robert Merton’s rendition of anomie.

For Merton, anomie happened when there was a loss of means, meaning society didn’t care about the pathways by which people gained wealth, as long as they got wealthy (see also here). Or put another way, getting wealthy was more important than the processes by which someone made/got money. Likewise in this socially constructed environment of “Hamsterdam,” the means by which drug dealers make money is out of control. The goal is to profit, and there are no social morals that would otherwise guide people on how to reach those goals appropriately. Hence, the dealers (as directed by their superiors in the drug crews) will sell drugs to whoever will buy, something that’s facilitated in “Hamsterdam.”

In “Hamsterdam,” we see a combination of normlessness regarding both regulations and means…it’s total anomie for both Durkheim and Merton. Consequently, the levels of crime, and retreatism are astronomical. Even a seasoned character like “Bubbles” in this scene is deeply disturbed as he walks through the community. Of course as Major Colvin would like to point out, by decriminalizing drugs in one sector of the community, the rest of the community is much improved. Gang violence has subsided substantially across the broader sectors of West Baltimore. Unfortunately, unlike Amsterdam, public health-based social services are completely lacking in “Hamsterdam,” and only come in too late as Colvin’s social experiment is about to get shut down.

Okay, now let’s check out “Hamsterdam”:

http://youtu.be/tpV18bqN16w

By David Mayeda

In December 2012, The Lancet published an interesting article titled, “Healthy life expectancy for 187 countries, 1990—2010: a systematic analysis for the Global Burden Disease Study 2010” (to see full article, free registration is required). Using data from 2010, the authors’ analyses of studies illustrate a variety of health indicators across 187 countries. In particular the authors address the construct of “healthy life expectancy,” which speaks to the average number of years an individual within a certain country can expect to live from a certain life stage (e.g., from birth) in good health. By good health, the authors mean absence of disability, not acquiring a major disease, and I would presume a variety of other indicators (e.g., free of heavy violence and injuries).

The results, while perhaps predictable, are a telling illustration of global stratification. See visual, below (top image, labelled “A” represents male averages, and image below, labelled “B” represents female averages):

Pretty clear, countries across much of western Europe, Canada, Singapore, and New Zealand have the highest healthy life expectancies — their citizenries expecting to live relatively healthy lives up until their late 60s for males and early 70s for females. And then in Japan, males and females both can expect to live healthy into their early 70s. Of course there would be stratified patterns of inequality within those countries, but on average, their citizens’ healthy life expectancies are very high from a comparative global standpoint. In contrast, across much of Africa, in Afghanistan, and Papua New Guinea, males and females can expect to stay healthy only up to about their 40s or early 50s.

The authors also highlight Haiti, comparing it with Japan as the two countries with the greatest disparities: “Across countries, male healthy life expectancy at birth in 2010 ranged from 27·8 years (17·2—36·5) in Haiti to 70·6 (68·6—72·2) in Japan. Female healthy life expectancy at birth in 2010 ranged from 37·1 years (26·8—43·8) in Haiti to 75·5 (73·3—77·3) in Japan,” also noting the significance that the catastrophic earthquake had on Haiti in 2010. Japan of course also experiences natural disasters, such as earthquakes and tsunamis. However countries like Haiti are much less equipped to cope with earthquakes due to a lack of infrastructure and technology, ultimately tied to poverty, which many critical sociologists would say are tied further to colonial and neo-colonial relationships.

And then there are life expectancy rates as a whole. This a pretty busy table, including life expectancies and healthy life expectancies, for males and females, years 1990 and 2010 across all 187 countries. But the information is extremely useful in demonstrating how social inequalities across the globe result in peoples’ differing lived experiences along clear patterns.

So while we’ve seen both life expectancies and healthy life expectancies rise for males and females in most (if not all) countries from 1990 to 2010, the global disparities are still massive.

The disparities also speak to the concept of “slow violence” that I first saw here, and is further explained by Jacklyn Cock here:

“much destruction of human potential takes the form of a ‘slow violence’ that extends over time. It is insidious, undramatic and relatively invisible. By slow violence I mean what Rob Nixon calls ‘the long dyings,’ a violence that occurs gradually and out of sight, a violence of delayed destruction that is dispersed across time and space, an attritional violence that is typically not viewed as violence at all. Both environmental pollution and malnutrition are forms of this slow violence. Both instances are relatively invisible and involve serious damage which develops slowly over time.”

So we don’t think of these colossal disparities as examples of global violence. Instead we see them as unfortunate manifestations of poverty, perhaps reflecting a lack of leadership within the countries on the lower end of our globally stratified world. But really, mass social disparities are a form of violence in and of themselves because the less resources one has, the less they will be able to cope with things when crises emerge, whether the crisis be losing a job, having one’s house broken into, being in a car accident, or coping with a tsunami.

Furthermore, we know that when one lives in a community with higher levels of deprivation, certain crises are more common — physical health concerns, crime, educational concerns, un/under-employment. So the contributions to slow violence add up and have cumulative effects on individuals within those communities.

What I found additionally helpful about Jacklyn Cock’s article was how she spoke of sociologists’ social responsibility to the lived experiences of those coping with slow violence and heavier levels of overt violence/deprivation:

“Sociologists must be willing to extend their experiences into the lives of those they research. They must be willing to spend time in homes, mines, and factories, for extended periods of time. It is from this vantage point, from below, that social processes can be exposed and rigorously analyzed. Similarly, “organic public sociology’ ‘makes visible the invisible’ and works in close connection with a ‘visible, thick, active and often counter public.’ This involves emphasizing collective work and rejecting the call of C. Wright Mills ‘to stand for the primacy of the individual scholar.’ Instead, in this highly individualized neoliberal moment, sociologists have to stand in solidarity with the poor and the oppressed.”

Blogging and publishing in scholarly journals are hopefully helpful, but they sure aren’t adequate. Gotta get outa that ivory tower, cause confining oneself to academic circles is merely another pathway to reproducing inequality.

By David Mayeda

How can one provide sociological analyses of The Wire without bringing in the complex character, Omar Little? Little (well, Omar) is a Robin Hood-esque individual who incessantly steals drugs and money from Avon Barksdale’s crew. In retaliation, Avon has Omar’s partner brutally tortured and killed, leading Omar to hold an even greater obsession in ripping off the Barksdale crew.

In these two snippets from season 1, we first see Omar and his crew at night preparing to steal drugs/money (or “the stash”) from one of the Barksdale sites. Then the next day we see Omar and his crew try to carry out their plan. This is an excellent set of scenes one may use to better understand rational choice theory, which purports that individuals are generally rational, potential criminals, who would engage in crime if they could get away with it. In other words, we have a sense of free will and weigh the pros and cons that go into committing different crimes.

Rational choice theory, however, has a robust range of components. Again, all of us are potential criminals who…

  1. consider how crime is purposeful
  2. sometimes have clouded judgement about crime due to our bounded rationality
  3. make varied decisions based on the type of crime being considered
  4. have involvement decisions (initiation, habituation, and desistance) and event decisions (decisions made in the moment of a crime that should reduce the chances of being caught)
  5. have separate stages of involvement (background factors, current life circumstance, and situational variables)
  6. may plan a sequence of event decisions (a crime script)
Here are the scenes:

Note in particular Omar’s bounded rationality – how his judgement is clouded by his despise for the “Barksdale Crew”, as Omar’s crew asks at night in the car why they need to keep hitting up the Barksdale stash houses, even though more vulnerable targets exist. Also take note of the crime script that is supposed to work out well, but doesn’t, since Omar and company are not aware of the amount of firepower present in the stash house being targeted.

By David Mayeda

Edwin Sutherland is probably America’s most well known criminologist. His theory of differential association has been incredibly influential in criminology. It posits that crime – like any other type of behaviour – is learned. And there are some specific components to Sutherland’s theory of differential association, seen below:

  • criminal behaviours are learned
  • learning of criminal behaviours takes place through criminal teachers
  • learning of criminal behaviours is more effective when the teachers have close, intimate ties with the learners
  • crime techniques become more intricate and refined over time
  • criminal behaviours are defined and valued in a favourable light
  • motives for crime are different from motives behind non-criminal behaviours

It should be noted that Sutherland actually focused his theoretical positions on white collar crime – arguing that all types of crime, irrespective of their class parameters, were learned. Still, the theory can be applied in a variety of class contexts.

Now let’s look at another clip from The Wire that freaked me out … until we saw its ending. And as the ending of this short scene is revealed, pay attention to how the different components of Sutherland’s theory can be applied.

Real quick, a little background on what’s happening here. In this snippet, young Mike is being chased by mentors Chris and “Snoops” – two hardened, ruthless gang members. But eventually we learn that the chase is an exercise for Mike, in which he demonstrates the knowledge required to effectively engage in a gun fight:

http://youtu.be/kIUlhWWIcNc

Clearly at 2:45 of the video, we see that criminal behaviours are being taught and learned. There are older teachers/mentors (Chris and Snoops), and they have very close ties to Mike. In fact, Mike turned to Chris during a time of need to take care of a family problem Mike couldn’t cope with himself. In this scene, we also see Mike demonstrate that he is learning the more detailed dimensions of shooting targets (where to aim, from what distance). And Snoops’s smile at the end as she says, “Aiight, boy’s learnin”, illustrates the criminogenic behaviours – and Mike’s progress in mastering them – are being assigned with positive values.

Stay tuned, more sociology and The Wire coming up…

By David Mayeda

Back in the 1950s as criminologists began to more seriously explore the sociological causes behind crime, Robert K. Merton put forth his perspective through strain theory. Merton argued that mainstream society holds certain culturally defined goals that are dominant across society. In a capitalist society, the dominant goal that most people aim for is accumulating wealth. Merton further argued that this goal of becoming financially wealthy was so powerful that the goal of getting rich itself had become more important than the means by which one attained wealth. In other words, whether you got rich via conventional/legal means, or via unconventional/illegal means, it didn’t matter, as long as you got your coin. For Merton then, there was anomie (normlessness) regarding the means.

Merton furthered this perspective by providing a framework by which sociologists could typologise criminals and non-criminals – strain theory. Strain theory argues that one must consider if an individual rejects or accepts (1) society’s cultural goals (wanting to make money), as well as (2) the institutional means by which to attain those goals.

To this end, five typologies were established:

  1. Conformists, who accept the culturally defined goal of financial success, as well as the institutional means society defines as appropriate to reach that goal (e.g., advancing one’s education, steadily working, saving money). Conformists follow rules and believe doing so will pay off financially.
  2. Innovators, who also accept the culturally defined goal of financial success, but do not follow society’s rules (i.e., laws) in their pursuit of attaining wealth. Innovators may not have the means to attain financial wealth (e.g., not enough money to further advance education), and/or simply not believe in the law. Hence, innovators turn to crime.
  3. Ritualists are those individuals who do not believe they can attain the culturally defined goal of accumulating financial wealth, but who continue to do so through society’s acceptable cultural pathways simply because they are supposed to (e.g., going to work and school, despite feeling such actions will never pay off).
  4. Retreatists are people who reject the goal of financial wealth, as well as the means society deems acceptable to get rich. Hence people in this group escape, or retreat from society, often times through substance use.
  5. Rebels are the last group who redefine society’s goals and create new institutional means of pursuing their unique goals. Rebels work outside of the established system. (See the framework mapped out by clicking here):

Okay, so let’s apply this theory to some examples from HBO’s television drama series, The Wire. In this first example, we see two snippets from Season 3 when characters Avon Barksdale (a west Baltimore drug kingpin recently released from prison) and his right-hand man, Stringer Bell, debate how they can reclaim their top “real estate” (or “corners”), where they would have the younger members of their crew sell heroine. Though not seen in these snippets, a new player named Marlo has entered the west Baltimore market and violently taken the most lucrative corners from Avon’s crew.

Listen to Avon and Stringer Bell discuss the pros and cons of going against Marlo versus trying to work with him. And more importantly listen to Avon – despite already having achieved extensive wealth – state how he would rather habituate by remaining a gangster, or from Merton’s perspective, an innovator. In contrast, listen to Stringer Bell push to work with Marlo and eventually desist from the drug trafficking scene, making “straight money,” much more so as a conformist.

http://youtu.be/QG_jBGIIFWw

Let’s also examine two other characters from The Wire – “Bubbles” and Johnny. In the early parts of this series, Bubbles and Johnny would be defined predominantly as retreatists, who aspire incessantly to get high on heroine. But over the series, Bubbles changes. As the two comrades walk down the street in this scene, listen to Bubbles talk of wanting to desist by becoming a “snitch” for the police. In other words, he is working towards becoming a conformist. Johnny, however, wants none of this:

http://youtu.be/roTQtE820Yw

Johnny temporarily convinces Bubbles to help him rip off the man on the ladder. And note in this particular scene,  Bubbles and Johnny are both innovators – working to get money via illegal means. Still, I would argue Johnny’s status stands predominantly as a retreatist, who innovates through petty crime simply to feed his retreatist addiction (i.e., retreat from society). And again, while Bubbles is an innovator in tandem with his friend in this scene, he is clearly working towards a life of conformity, seen more clearly when he disappears and decides not to take the money.

More analyses through The Wire on the way..