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Batson, C. Daniel, Patricia Schoenrade, and W. Larry Ventis. 1993. Religion and the Individual: A Social-Psychological Perspective. New York: Oxford University Press.

Rating:
9

Summary:
The book actually has two objectives. First, it serves as a review of the social psychological literature on religion. Second, it presents original research of the authors and advocates for their theoretical perspective.

Since the authors required a book to summarize the state of the social psychological literature on religion, trying to summarize it in a short book review isn’t going to happen. I can, however, summarize the few points the authors cover in detail. First, the authors point out that they are not so much concerned with institutional religion but rather the “…the role of religion in the life of the individual – its origins, development, dynamics, functions, and consequences… Our goal is to provide a clear and coherent social-psychological picture of individual religion…” (p. v). The authors also explain that the goal of studying religion from a social psychological perspective is to “attempt to explain the nature and consequences of religion in the individual’s life, while at the same time keeping in mind the impact on the individual of his or her social environment” (p. 20). In short, the authors are interested in personal level religion, but recognize the social forces that influence religion at that level.

The authors proceed to outline some of the significant influences on personal religion, “…what may seem to be a freely chosen and highly personal religious stance is in large measure a product of social influence. To state this view strongly: You are free to choose only the religious stance that your particular social background dictates” (p. 25) Some of the significant influences on personal religiosity discussed include: parents, social class, race, and gender. Each of these differentially influence personal religiosity.

But the authors are quick to point out that personal religiosity is not entirely dictated by social presure, norms, and reference groups. Another component of personal religiosity is psychological. In this vein, the authors discuss a number of developmental psychological theories, drawing connections between the development of human cognition and religiosity. While there is no clear conclusion on this point, the authors do make it clear that personal religiosity is not due just to social pressure, but neither is it something innate or genetic. Personal religiosity is a combination of personal interest and decisions, both of which are limited and influenced by social-structural factors.

The remainder of the book discusses different orientations of personal religiosity and their relations to certain aspects of society. The orientation builds on the work of Gordon Allport who distinguished two types of religiosity and provided their corresponding labels: intrinsic and extrinsic religiosity. Extrinsic religiosity refers to people who use religion as a means to an end (e.g., social contacts). Intrinsic religiosity refers to people who see religion as the end (e.g., religion is the answer to life’s questions). The authors have actually spent a good deal of their careers refining Allport’s conception, re-working the original two categories and adding a third – quest religiosity. Quest religiosity refers to the religious seeker who constantly asks questions and may not believe there are any clear answers to them.

After outlining these three types of religiosity, the authors then explore the connections between religiosity – specified by their three types – and several social issues, including: health, charity, morality, and prejudice. Using a loose comparison between the religious and irreligious, in most cases religion comes down on the negative side of each of these social issues: religion does not improve health, does not increase charity, does not indicate a higher morality, and results in increased prejudice. However, and this is probably what the author’s intent was from the beginning, religiosity’s connections with these social issues is nuanced, depending on the type of religiosity. Generally speaking, intrinsic and quest religiosity are more positive than extrinsic religiosity.

The book concludes with a bold discussion of whether or not religion is good for humanity and society. Unfortunately, given the extensive nuance, a clear answer isn’t forthcoming. This is also unfortunate because this discussion provides sufficient ammunition for both sides to argue for their perspective: The religious individual could say that if you are intrinsically or quest oriented, then religion is good for you. Meanwhile, the irreligious individual could argue that religion, generally speaking, and extrinsic religion, specifically speaking, isn’t good for the individual or society.

Review:
great review of the social psychology of religion

Before touching on some of my critiques of the book, I should point out that this book is very informative, clearly written, and well worth reading. The authors, obviously experts in the social psychology of religion, have brought together years of study and research into a comprehensive volume that would make an excellent addition to the library of anyone interested in scientific understandings of religion.

That said, the book is not without its problems. To begin with, the authors employ a definition of religion that, in my opinion, is far too broad, “We shall define religion as whatever we as individuals do to come to grips personally with the questions that confront us because we are aware that we and others like us are alive and that we will die” (p. 8). The problem with this definition is that it can include individuals who use science or other naturalistic explanations to address such questions. While the authors would not have a problem with such an inclusion – and, in fact, include atheists who address such questions in their pool of ‘the religious’ – I prefer a more narrow definition. Including such a broad swath of people makes virtually everyone ‘religious’. If everyone is religious, then you aren’t really studying religion, just human nature and the tendency of humans to ask existential questions. My definition would simply add the caveat that answers must include some element of supernature in order to qualify as religious. With a supernatural component included, the analysis is limited to the more traditional understandings of religion – including practitioners of New Age and other more esoteric religions that focus on spirituality and not on organized religion. This difference would still result in a broad definition, but it wouldn’t include virtually everyone.

I should also point out while I’m discussing the authors’ definition of religion that, almost by definition, people who fall into their extrinsically oriented religiosity category could be argued to not be religious as they are affiliating themselves with religion only superficially and not actually asking existential questions. This is a significant problem for their analysis considering extrinsic religiosity is one of the three primary categories the authors cover in detail. A better definition of religion is in order.

Another criticism is likely due more to the date of publication of the book and not to an oversight on the part of the authors. In discussing the influence of education on religiosity, the authors conclude that while college education seems to result in a decline of religiosity, it is only temporary. Given the state of research on this question when they wrote their book (actually revised their book), this interpretation makes sense. However, an important study published in 1997 by Daniel Carson Johnson draws a clearer picture. Religious decline may be temporary for some individuals, but what the authors were really seeing in the studies was a dichotomization of religiosity as a result of college education. Those who make it through college with their religious beliefs intact tend to be more devout than those who do not attend college to begin with yet remain religious. On the other side, those who don’t make it through college with their religious beliefs intact end up far less orthodox and are more likely to disavow religion altogether. Thus, the real relationship is a dichotomization – college education strengthens both religiosity and irreligiosity, it just depends on where you end up. Johnson’s finding is particularly relevant in light of the author’s extensive discussion of Festinger’s findings concerning cognitive dissonance and how religious people reinforce their beliefs in light of disconfirming evidence. If the authors decide to revise their book in the future, they should revise their understanding of education’s influence on religiosity.

This next criticism may not be relevant to the author’s research, as they have seemingly moved away from Gordon Allport’s original questionnaire and classifications of extrinsic and intrinsic religiosity. But the criticism is relevant for those who continue to use this classification scheme for religious individuals. The authors point out that Allport’s scale measures were flawed and not actually measuring what he thought they were (religious commitment instead of intrinsic religiosity; see pp. 163-164). In light of such findings, I have to question why people continue to use Allport’s classifications at all. The author’s have revised Allport’s scales and claim their new classification scheme (three categories instead of two) is valid. I do, however, have one question about the methodology they employ in validating their scale. On page 174 the authors describe their factor analysis as orthogonal, meaning they did not allow their factors to correlate. However, in light of the finding that Allport’s scale measures did correlate (factor analysis is an easy way to discover this), I find it somewhat disingenuous on the part of the authors to simply present their analysis without saying what their scales looked like when they were allowed to correlate (say, using Direct Oblimin rotation rather than Varimax rotation). After all, they are measuring different components of personal religiosity and, as has been shown in numerous measures of religiosity (see Hill and Hood 1999), different factors tend to correlate. Admittedly, the authors try to simplify their discussion of factor analysis as it is complicated, but they should at least footnote this part and explain why they chose not to let their factors correlate in light of the fact that most measures of religiosity do correlate.

Another problem with the analysis that is repeated throughout the book is that it continually focuses on differences between the religious without pointing out that there is an entire group of people who are not religious who should be included in these comparisons. For instance, in discussing prejudice, the authors point out that extrinsically oriented people are far more prejudiced than are intrinsically or quest oriented religious people (p. 304). But just a few pages earlier the authors had pointed out that non-religious people are far less-prejudiced than any of these groups. This continued oversight led me to wonder if it would not be of more utility to simply build continuum-like scales that range from completely irreligious to highly religious and forgo the distinctions among the religious. Such scales would provide information on the broader picture of religiosity rather than focusing narrowly on just differences between the religious. (I do have to note that in this particular case they do return to the comparison between the religious and irreligious at the end of their discussion; see p. 310).

I found one of the authors’ claims to be misleading if not plainly erroneous, “All major religions preach love and acceptance of others – all others” (pp. 293-294). While I don’t claim to be an expert on all major religions, I do know a thing or two about them and I don’t believe this is an accurate statement. The major religions may superficially claim to be accepting of all people, but their beliefs are generally laced with caveats. Heretics and non-believers are vilified and even members of other religions are often denigrated. Granted the authors go on to point out that religiosity is positively correlated with prejudice (the more religious you are, the more prejudiced you are), which undermines religions’ claims to the contrary, but unless the authors are aware of actual pronouncements of tolerance and acceptance by all major religions, I think they may be creating a false dichotomy. Or, worst case scenario, they are simply wrong.

While I believe some of my criticisms are substantial (and I will cover one more below), I recognize that they are minor in comparison to the positive aspects of this book. For instance, the authors take a position in the first chapter that, until now, I have not seen any social scientists studying religion take: they recognize that the social scientific study of religion can actually undermine faith, “As we noted earlier, the psychologist’s task is to address these same questions, although in more general terms. The problem is that the psychologist’s answers may provide plausible alternatives to the answers of the religious individual, thereby challenging the individual’s beliefs. It is important for the social psychologist to be honest at this point. Often, social psychologists bend over backward to emphasize the limited relevance and impact of their research. In stark contrast, our experience observing the reactions of religious individuals suggests that social-psychological research on religion has so much potential for relevance and impact that the consumer should be warned. It is frequently said that science cannot prove the existence or nonexistence of God, and we would agree. But it is frequently also said that a scientific study of religion carries no implications for a person’s religious beliefs; here we would disagree” (p. 14). The authors go on to point out how the social scientific study of religion can undermine faith (by providing plausible and more parsimonious explanations). I believe it is high time all social scientists studying religion admitted how studying religion from this perspective can undermine faith. Kudos to the authors for being bold enough to admit it.

I also have to point out that even though the authors were addressing a serious topic and wading through hundreds of scientific studies, they actually seemed to make an effort to include some humor. Granted, it wasn’t very often, but sometimes it was quite funny. For instance, the authors recount Carlos Castaneda’s experience with peyote in discussing the possible connections between psychotropic drugs and religiosity (p. 125). This has to be one of the funniest stories I’ve ever heard. Basically, Mr. Castaneda, in recounting his experience, talks about how spiritual it was as he moved toward ‘yellow warmth’ and found brotherhood with the dog that his Native American host had in the house. As it turns out, that yellow warmth was him pissing on the dog and the dog pissing on him. Brilliant!

I should also point out that, while the authors do a good job of balancing their support and criticism of religion, the book does not try to minimize the problems with religion. For instance, in exploring one element of religiosity, the authors point out that individuals who have had conversion experiences, especially intense ones, “gave significantly more responses that appeared to reflect what in psychoanalytic terms is called primitive, non-logical thinking” (p. 111). The authors don’t try to hide the problems with religion, but they do their best to provide evidence that religion isn’t all bad. So, while their treatment is certainly fair, do keep in mind that they are critical of religion, and rightfully so (see the quote from p. 343 for another strong indictment of religion).

To conclude, I want to talk briefly about the authors’ final chapter. In that chapter, they address the question of whether religion is good for society or not. I need to point out that I’m impressed by the boldness of the authors for raising the question. Even so, I don’t think their wish-washy conclusion is compelling. Basically, the authors conclude that if you are intrinsic or quest oriented, then religion can be a good thing. But if you are extrinsically religious, then religion tends to be a bad thing. While this conclusion fits their findings, it also overlooks the actual implications. Basically, the authors are arguing that only two types of religiosity are good for the individual and/or society. The third obviously is not. But, and the authors point this out earlier in the book, the majority of religious people fall into the extrinsically-oriented category. And, it may actually be the case that in order to arrive at the two ‘good’ categories, you have to pass through the bad one. In short, the probability of actual belonging to one of the ‘good’ religious categories is small enough that, in my opinion, the safest conclusion concerning whether religion is good or not for society is obvious – it is not good for society. Just because a few religious people are better than other religious people (but worse than non-religious people) does not indicate to me that we should keep a social institution that negatively affects the majority of its adherents. I’m not going to speculate as to why the authors chose to defend religion, but given the evidence they present and the arguments they make, the conclusion should be obvious – religion is not society’s friend.

Kline, Paul. 1993. An Easy Guide to Factor Analysis. 1st ed. Routledge.

Rating:
6

Summary:
The book is, as it is titled, a guide to factor analysis – a statistical technique for reducing scale measures down to their underlying factors or concepts. The book includes a basic introduction to some of the more common statistical measures (correlations, standard deviations, etc), but quickly moves past the introduction into the heart of factor analysis. The bulk of the text focuses on factor analysis with its many variations and complications. Also included in the text is a brief chapter on confirmatory factor analysis and path analysis as they go hand-in-hand and use advanced statistical programs (e.g. LISREL).

Review:
As far as the book living up to its title, it isn’t too far off, but it kind of misses the mark on the ‘easy’ part. I think it would be more accurate to call it a ‘quick & dirty guide to factor analysis as the author doesn’t really simplify the concepts but instead just avoids lengthy explanations and theoretical discussions. The result is a bare minimum type presentation – it will give you just enough information to do factor analysis and generally understand it, but you will not be an expert on factor analysis after reading this book. For instance, while the author presents a few mathematical calculations and plenty of formulas, there is no attempt to explain why or how it works – you just have to accept that it works.

I certainly don’t want to give the wrong impression about the book. It’s not a bad book, it’s just that it is kind of awkward to read. I’m sure some of that has to do with the author being British and using some British jargon. But what I believe really makes the book awkward is the style of presentation. For some reason the author believes that after one quick explanation of a topic, he has completely explained a concept and will say something like, “Now that you have a clear understanding of that issue, I will now explain the next important thing you need to know.” Some of his explanations are pretty good and leave one with a clear understanding, but far more of the explanations aren’t quite there and could use at least one or two more attempts at it before just assuming that the reader ‘got it’. You just kind of get a sense that the author is, perhaps, a bit too confident in his ability to explain things.

The fact that he uses many of his own studies for examples of ‘what to do’ (and not ‘what not to do’) reiterates this sense. This is also reaffirmed by the constant use of absolutes. The author says things as though that is the way they are, end of story. For example, “A final example will illustrate the power of exploratory factor analysis as a statistical method” (p. 10). In this sentence, he is basically telling you that this example is all you need. Maybe I’m just used to the wishy-washy format of social scientific writing where the sentence would have said, “A final example may help illustrate the power…” Either way, this is kind of a minor criticism, even though it makes the reading of the text fairly awkward.

Overall, while this is a good introduction to the topic, it should be noted that the book assumes the reader is familiar with basic statistics (up through multiple regression analysis). In fact, I wouldn’t recommend reading this book unless you are familiar with statistics up to that point. If you can look past the odd language and aren’t particularly concerned about understanding what you are doing (just how to do it), this is a pretty good book on factor analysis.

Sessions, Gene A. 1993. The Search for Harmony: Essays on Science and Mormonism. Signature Books.

Rating:
6

Summary:
engaging despite its faith promoting perspective

The book is a collection of essays, primarily (perhaps entirely, some authors didn’t say) by believing Mormons who feel that their religious and scientific views can be reconciled. Despite arguing for harmony, the authors do a decent job of pointing out many of the ways that religion and science (specifically, evolutionary theory) come into conflict. Though a few scientific concepts in addition to evolution are examined, the majority of the essays focus on evolution.

Also included are several historical essays examining religious and scientific conflicts in the LDS Church. One examines conflict at (the) Brigham Young Academy (now University) around the turn of the 20th century with the hiring and eventual firing or quitting of Joseph and Henry Peterson and Ralph and William Chamberlin who were some of the first individuals with PhDs to be hired by BYU. Another looks at the conflicts among the leadership of the Church, specifically between Brigham H. Roberts and Joseph Fielding Smith, Roberts advocating the acceptance of a divinely modified version of evolution and Smith arguing for a literal interpretation of the Bible. There are also essays examining the personal difficulties reconciling science and religion in the lives of two other notable Mormon scientists, James E. Talmage and Henry Eyring (senior). Both were well-educated (Eyring more so than Talmage) but maintained their faith in religion.

The over-all tone of the book is that, despite a generally negative view of science prevailing among the leadership and general membership of the LDS Church today, the authors of this book believe (and want to encourage other Mormons who are pursuing secular educations) that it is possible to be well-educated and faithful at the same time.

Review:
The introduction by the editors is hands down the best chapter in the book (the chapter examining the conflict at BYU comes in at a close second). It raises far more questions than it attempts to answer, which is closer to where I think this issue ends than many of these essays would have you believe. It also does not try to force a reconciliation between science and religion but rather illustrates why such a reconciliation may be difficult. These two essays alone are worth the price of the book.

One chapter, however, is absolutely not worth reading, “Fossils and the Scriptures.” Perhaps my expectations of the chapter were too high. But even if this was the primary problem, the essay does not present any new ideas or even any interesting information about fossils. Instead it argues, quite apologetically and apathetically that the author has found a way to reconcile science and religion; thus, everyone else should be able to as well. This chapter was an unfortunate inclusion in an otherwise decent book.

There are some other significant problems with the book. First, while it claims to be a thorough discussion of religion and science, it really should be re-titled ‘Mormonism and Evolution: Searching for Harmony,’ as it primarily examines connections between these two and not science in general.

Another significant problem is the not uncommon contradiction between chapters. Some authors claim that the early leadership of the Church embraced science while others claim that they were staunch Biblical literalists who opposed science (maybe it depends on who you choose to cite?). Some authors claim (p. 168) that the LDS Church began to embrace evolution around the turn of the 20th century, but this seems to be refuted by a number of the essays. Finally, some claim that there seems to be a trend toward more openness among the leadership of the LDS Church today, but this also flies in the face of some of the other authors who cite the influence of Joseph Fielding Smith, Bruce R. McConkie, Boyd K. Packer, and numerous other orthodox leaders and apologists who have pushed the bulk of the Mormon leadership and membership into the anti-intellectual, anti-science, and creationist camps of fundamentalist Christianity (p.xvi & p. 271). Perhaps it was the intent of the editors to illustrate the multiplicity of opinions among the membership of the religion by allowing the authors of the essays to contradict one another, but, in the end, it actually functions to undermine the validity of some of the conclusions.

Another serious problem with the book is the idea that science and creationism can easily be reconciled or at the very least are not strictly oppositional (p. 178). One author takes the approach that “If… they [Biblical authors] made inaccurate allusions to the nature of the universe, of the living things therein, it is of no real importance. Their writings must be evaluated on the basis of their worth to religion or philosophy rather than their worth to modern science” (p. 206). This author echoes the sentiments of many of the authors in the book who want to force the Bible into a religion/science dichotomy, claiming that it is not a book of science but rather a book of religion. As such, they are willing to give it great amounts of leeway in describing scientific phenomena. I take serious issue with this interpretation. This approach does two things that bother me. First, it takes away the falsifiability of the Bible, meaning it cannot be subjected to scientific examination. If you claim that the book never intended to be anything more than a collection of myths with religious and moral implications, then you are reframing it in a way that prevents scholarly examination of its literal claims (e.g., that the creation took place in 6 days, all of life was planted here in its original form by a divine being, The Flood, etc.). Second, the ramifications on religion are particularly interesting. This approach would also allow for God and his prophets to either have been wrong, outright, or intentionally misleading. The authors that advocate this approach claim that the prophets and God were not wrong insomuch as they were using the jargon of the day to express remarkably complex phenomena, the result being super-simplified versions of the more accurate scientific understandings of today (see pp. 254-256). This is absolute hogwash. If God really knew his/her/its stuff, why didn’t he just say it the right way and leave it as a mystery until humanity was ready to understand it? This perspective is forcing religion and its scientific claims into the realm of non-falsifiability, which means it cannot be critically examined. I refuse to allow that to happen. Either God knew his geology and physics and revealed it to his prophets, or he didn’t! Remember, this is an omniscient god we are discussing…

Sprinkled throughout the chapters are a number of additional points I found bothersome. For instance, on p. 220 one author claims that, “All scientific evidence available on man’s physical history indicates that he was on the average less perfect in times past than now.” I found this claim absolutely befuddling. The author provides no measure of ‘perfection,’ and even with one, I am inclined to disbelieve this claim. Complexity does not and has not ever equaled perfection. This is ridiculous. Another author claims that “Latter-day Saints share Elder James E. Talmage’s conviction that “within the gospel of Jesus Christ there is room and place for every truth thus far learned by man, or yet to be made known.”” (pp.223-224). This certainly sounds nice, but is not an accurate representation of all Latter-day Saints. In fact, I would submit that the majority of Latter-day Saints believe just the opposite, that there is not room for every truth thus far learned by man. The majority of Mormons today are creationists (or advocate intelligent design in one form or another) and some Mormon leaders have gone so far as to consider belief or acceptance of evolution as one of the greatest heresies a Mormon can be guilty of committing (Bruce R. McConkie made this claim). Finally, many of the essays use the same quotes over and over again. The impression that results is that there were a few proponents of science in the history of Mormonism and defenders of the faith have turned to them as their primary source of information and set them up as the final authorities on where the Church stands on science. Because so many of the essays use the same quotes it gives the impression that the proponents of a harmony between Mormonism and science were few (probably about 10 notable ones are mentioned in the entire book), which ends up working against the claims of the contributors of the essays in this book that Mormonism is not hostile to religion. The majority of the leadership of the religion over the years and the majority of the membership have been either hostile or indifferent toward science. This doesn’t mean it isn’t possible to find some means of reconciling science and Mormonism, but it does illustrate how this books claims are biased and not particularly representative of the real attitudes among the leadership and members of the religion.

Overall, though I found the book problematic on many levels (including the fact that there were no social science contributors), I would still recommend the book to thinking Mormons who are trying to reconcile their views on evolution with the generally pro-creationist environment of Mormonism. This book illustrates that it is possible to find a reconciliation of these two, but in order to do so you are going to have to change your understanding of scripture. No longer will you be able to see it as literal but instead must view it as a book with good teachings that uses myth to relay philosophical ideas. Ironically, I think Joseph Fielding Smith was at least partially right when he said that the ultimate result of stepping away from a literal interpretation of scripture will be such a drastically altered perspective that you will eventually begin to question every aspect of Mormonism. After all, if the Bible is myth, what’s preventing the Book of Mormon from being seen as myth as well? It’s not a very comfortable path to take, but for the individual that insists on reconciliation, it may very well be a path to internal peace.

Halle, David. 1993. Inside Culture: Art and Class in the American Home. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press.

Rating:
8

Summary:
The purpose of this book is to present a study that brings empirical data to bear on the question of art ‘consumption’ – used here to mean ‘the owning and displaying of art;’ namely, who owns and/or displays what type of art? To explore this question, the author, David Halle, visits roughly 160 homes in neighborhoods ranging from upper- to lower-class in the greater New York City metropolitan area (p. 11). In visiting the homes, the author interviews the residents about their art choices and also catalogues and photographs the art he finds on display.

Before presenting a summary of the authors findings, two additional points need to be made. First, the author, smartly, explores what is meant by ‘art’ at the beginning of the text. He presents three definitions, ranging from a strict one – the work of an individual artist that is considered to be of financial or artistic value– to a broad one – visual representations, including religious statues and ordinary photographs (see p. 20). As the author explains, “Using art and culture in these three senses will provide a framework for the study which avoids prematurely determining the answer to questions that should be considered at the conclusion of the study, not presupposed in a preliminary definition” (p. 20). In other words, by outlining the possible definitions of art at the beginning of the text, he is allowing for the possibility that some homes may not display ‘art’ that fits the strict definition. In light of the author’s aim to combine his artwork findings with household demographics, broadening the definition is necessary.

The second point that needs to be outlined prior to a discussion of the author’s findings involves the theories with which the author is taking issue. The first theory argues that art is mainly a status symbol – members of the upper classes use art to distinguish themselves from the lower classes. The second theory argues that art is a product of mass culture – art is produced by large corporations and the advertising industry to dominate and repress the masses. The third theory is similar to the first, with a slight modification – art is still used to distinguish groups, but the groups are distinguished not by wealth but by ‘cultural capital.’ Those that appreciate higher art (abstract art, opera, ballet, etc.) have special knowledge which helps them to appreciate the art form. As a result of their ‘special knowledge’, they are considered distinct from groups without this cultural capital (see pp. 6-7). Halle is arguing that these three theories are inadequate explanations for art consumption in the modern world.

What does the author find? Among the surprising findings is the first one discussed by the author, “The results show that landscapes rank first in popularity in all four neighborhoods” (p. 59). From upper- to lower-class (and the middle in between), landscapes are by far the most common type of art on display. The author proffers a number of theories as to the popularity of landscapes, but these basically boil down to the idea that people like serene, calm vistas in the hope that the vista will contribute those emotions to the owners and household.

Another surprising finding is the prevalence of photographs as ‘art’. Almost all of the houses surveyed displayed photographs; a theory explaining the prevalence of photographs is outlined on p. 115. Generally, the exceptions to this rule “believe that family photos are not art and therefore should be confined to albums, which accounts for most of the Manhattan residents who display no such pictures. This view is especially prevalent among men who have jobs that involve artistic production (for instance, photographer, filmmaker, art dealer, architect, or advertising executive)” (p. 93). Portraits, on the other hand, are much less common and are more likely among the wealthier classes – but even among the upper-class they are not particularly common (p. 95).

A less surprising finding was that “Abstract art is, indeed, an elite taste, concentrated among sections of the middle and upper-middle classes. It is almost absent, in original or in reproduction, from the working-class households” (p. 122). Yet, despite this affirmation of common wisdom, the author does point out that even among the upper-class there are individuals who are not fans of abstract art. “What do people have against abstract art? A common objection is that the artists are charlatans who cannot draw and cannot paint. Abstract art, in short, is a fraud” (p. 122; see also the quotes from p. 125).

While it is certainly worth noting that not all members of the upper- and upper-middle-class enjoy abstract art, I actually found the explanation for why some people enjoy abstract art more informative, “It is, then, salutary to discover that of the reasons East Side residents gave for liking abstract art, the largest number (54%) involve the view that it is the design or decorative qualities in the works that attract them. Residents like the colors, lines, shapes, or overall effect. This is also the main reason why residents of Manhasset like abstract art” (p. 129). I found it refreshing that very few people claimed to find meaning in abstract art. In exploring attitudes of the lower-class individuals who did not display abstract art, the author hit upon what I believe to be a common myth among those who do not like this type of art: they claim to not understand it. If there is no meaning (despite what the artists may claim), there is nothing to (mis-)understand. I can now find solace in the fact that I find most abstract art meaningless, tasteless, and without any artistic merit and not feel like I have no appreciation for fine art.

Another less-than-surprising finding is that the same people who display abstract art (the upper- and upper-middle classes) also display primitive art, “It is fairly popular among the upper-middle and middle classes. Fifty-eight percent of the houses on the East Side of Manhattan, 40% of the houses in Spinney Hill, and 22% of those in Manhasset had items of “primitive” art. “Primitive” art is, however, of negligible interest to the white working class. Only one house in Greenpoint and one in Medford had any” (p. 148). However, one surprising twist to this finding is the fact that primitive art was far more common among Democrats than among Republicans, a fact which does not go unnoticed nor uninterpreted by the author (see p. 153).

The last finding discussed in the text involves religious iconography and artwork. Not surprisingly, most upper- and upper-middle class households display no religious art. It is, however, prevalent among lower- and middle-class households. Even so, “Middle-class households that display Catholic religious iconography often shield it from public view, in many cases in bedrooms or on upstairs landings. By contrast, the working class who display Catholic iconography are not, usually, thus inhibited” (p. 175). In short, the lower the class status, the more prevalent is religious artwork.

What, then does the author conclude from these findings? First and foremost, he finds that there is no real connection to power relationships when it comes to art. Additionally, abstract and primitive art are not found only among the wealthy or even in all wealthy homes, but only in a select few – primarily in homes where one of the members of the household is involved with art production. As the author puts it, “It is unclear whether there is one particular group, or even one particular combination of groups, that can be said to hold cultural and ideological dominance in the West. For one thing, it is no longer plausible to hold that meanings are imposed on “the public” in a one-way process by a dominant elite (corporations, “advertising”) or by a mostly impersonal network (“the marketplace”). On the contrary, there is an entire alternate, or parallel, set of meanings – those identified in this study – that exist at the level of art displayed in the home, and in many respects originate in, and are sustained by, this context” (p. 195).

Review:
Let me begin by saying I found this book remarkably insightful. I have no qualms about the research approach; in fact, I think the author’s approach is about the only way to gather good data on a topic that has been the subject of significant theorizing but minimal empirical research (as the author points out in the introduction).

In addition to the insightful findings relating specifically to the research project, I found some of the other items discussed highly informative. For instance, the author spends quite a few pages examining the layouts of homes. While the suburban rambler layout was familiar, I was not familiar with the layout of the Manhattan upper-class homes. Thus, while it was not the intention of the author to explore home layouts among wealthy New Yorkers, it is a nice bonus feature.

Another extra feature I found both noteworthy and reassuring was the author’s findings concerning abstract art. As I noted above, I find most abstract art to be wholly without artistic merit. That I am not alone in my views (Andy Rooney recently expressed a similar opinion on 60 Minutes) is reassuring. The next time someone tries to convince an abstract work of art has meaning, I’ll laugh heartily and encourage them to read this book. What’s more, I am now even more convinced that most abstract art should be worth about as much money as wallpaper is (according to Halle, it serves the same purpose). The exception would be art by individuals who can actually paint convincing display pieces (realistic artwork); if they are actually talented but choose to use alternative methods for self-expression, it may warrant a slightly higher price.

Despite liking the book, I do have a few minor criticisms. First, it occasionally seemed as though the author arrived at his conclusions and theoretical explanations a bit too abruptly. Additionally, some of his theories were post hoc hypotheses that are not, technically falsifiable. For instance, in his discussion of the shift in presentation of the Virgin Mary in Catholic art, the author argues that the reason Catholics now prefer bust shots rather than the full-body shot that was popular in ages past is because of a decline in emphasis of Mary’s ‘virginity’ (see pp. 183-184). While this theory may have some merit, it also seems far-fetched, it is certainly an ‘after-the-fact’/post hoc construction, and holds no predictive power. For this to be an actual theory, it needs to be falsifiable and/or predictive. Is there a comparable piece of artwork or shift in emphasis in artwork that has changed for similar reasons? Can the author use his theory to predict changes in future artwork among religious groups? As the author makes no attempt to present alternative cases where his approach here is relevant, I can’t help but find this theoretical construction to be very sketchy at best.

There were also several forms of artwork that were not discussed. While posters (e.g. of rock artists) were mentioned, the author noted he did not have the space to discuss them. But one type of art that I was surprised to not hear mentioned was political propaganda. Perhaps it is less common that one might think, but the author failed to even mention it.

Another way the book could be improved is in the analysis of the survey data. For instance, when the author is examining why people like or dislike certain types of artwork, factor analysis could pull out underlying constructs that would serve as better guides for grouping the responses. I don’t believe the author performed any factor analyses on his data, or at least did not present any.

My last criticism of the book is that the author fails to present a parsimonious theory to replace the three he is criticizing. One might conclude from the book that the author believes art consumption is influenced by culture and class, but the author does not draw any explicit connections between these concepts. Most of the theoretical analysis is focused on illustrating why the other theories do not work and not on a theoretical approach that works better to explain the findings.

Overall, the book is readable and engaging, and, with a few modifications, it would be an excellent text. For anyone interested in art and why people display the art they do, I highly recommend this text. As the professor of the class noted when describing this book (I read it for a class on cultural sociology), after having read this book, you’ll never look at artwork in someone’s home quite the same way.

Gerson, Kathleen. 1993. No Man’s Land. New York, New York: Basic Books.

Rating:
6

Summary:
Lots of info, but no real point.

No Man’s Land is the result of over one hundred interviews the author (or her graduate student assistants) conducted with men in the New York metropolitan area. Gerson is interested in the changing roles of men as regards work and family. In order to discover how men’s roles are changing, she analyzes the interviews and ultimately comes up with the following:

There are essentially three types of men in terms of their commitments to work and family: (1) Those that are oriented toward Breadwinning; (2) Those that are oriented toward Autonomy; (3) Those that are oriented toward Family Involvement.

Breadwinners are men that are the primary wage earner for their families. They express their concern and love for their family by working long hours to make enough money to support their family. The long hours usually mean that they don’t really spend time with their family, but they consider this a way of showing their family how much they love them.

The Autonomous are men that are not interested in family. They may find fulfillment in their work or in things outside of work, but they are more interested in finding their own fulfillment than in creating or maintaining a family.

The Family Involved are men that have put their families before everything else. They may reduce the hours that they work or purposely avoid promotions so they can spend more time with their families. These men may not make as much as the Breadwinners, but they are more interested in spending quality time with their families.

Of course, Gerson does make the point that men can shift from one path to another (e.g. from Breadwinner to Autonomous or vice versa and so forth) or can kind of mix paths, but it is easiest to understand men from these perspectives.

And, though she never really comes right out and says it, the main reason for why men end up where they do is because of job opportunities (at least, that is the impression you get from reading the book). What is meant by this is that some men climb the corporate ladder quickly. If they had a family when they first started this climb, then they become Breadwinners. If they didn’t, then they become autonomous. If they start climbing the corporate ladder but then get stuck, they may become Family Involved. And, a lot of men that are not successful in work and thus are fearful that they can’t support a family turned toward Autonomy.

The book ends with the author making some vague comments on how the workplace (and the world for that matter) should change so men can more easily be Family Involved; I guess that is assumed to be the ideal.

Review:
As I said before, there is a lot of information in this book and it really is pretty easy to read. The problem is that the information isn’t really presented in a format that makes patterns in men’s lives distinguishable. Every time she offers an example to illustrate a point, it is followed by another example two lines later that contradicts the previous one. And, even though Gerson categorizes men into three categories, she also points out that you can move between these rather fluidly or you can combine categories – which makes the categories almost meaningless.

But the biggest problem with the book is that she attributes men ending up in these categories to men’s success in the marketplace. Now, it may be a bit extreme to say that she is claiming that men’s financial success is really the only factor; she talks about how some men have orientations towards being Breadwinners or being Autonomous from very young ages, but there is no discernible pattern in how these men end up – they are just as likely to go from having a Breadwinner orientation to becoming a Breadwinner as they are from having a Breadwinner orientation to becoming Autonomous. So, the impression you end up with is that your job is going to determine your orientation toward your family rather than your family or desires for a family determining your job.

Gerson does ultimately spill the beans about her bias: men should be Family Involved and workplaces should change to allow that to happen. I must admit that I don’t disagree with her, but as an academic, is she supposed to have an opinion on things? I don’t know, that’s a question that is beyond my ability to answer.

Anyway, I would like to say that the book is insightful and informative, but the conclusions are just not very convincing. Some more quantitative studies have found evidence for her claims and some have contradicted her claims. Some very recent work shows that most men have a traditional attitude towards family – they are Breadwinners regardless of their financial situation.

I think Gerson makes a good argument for men having possibly conflicting roles and definitely having conflicting demands, but she never really makes clear what is driving all of this. Perhaps her data won’t allow her to do that. If not, then even though the book is interesting you could argue that it hasn’t really given us more information than we had before.