Copyright ©2012, American Sociological Association, Volume 18, Number 2, Pages 278-297 ISSN 1076-156X Book Reviews Go, Julian. 2011. Patterns of Empire: The British and American Empires, 1688 to the Present. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 286 Pages, ISBN 978-1107600782 Paper ($28.99); 978-1107011830 Cloth ($86.76) This book could well have been titled “The Myth of American Exceptionalism,” but that might have led to a storm of right wing tirades that obscured its illustration of how to make an extended, nuanced comparison between two empires. The introductory chapter sets up the comparative structure, outlines the goals of the book, and clears many thickets of definitional issues. For readers conversant with world-systems analysis the comparative framework will be straightforward and logical. For others it may take some convincing. Briefly, the idea is that in order to compare two empires, in this case Britain and the United States, one must compare similar phases of the hegemonic cycle: ascent (long and short parts), maturity, and decline or competition. Go follows more-or-less standard world-system dates for these phases. The entire book is a detailed execution of this comparison. The goals of the comparison are to add to the growing literature that critiques the idea of American exceptionalism. That is, that the United States differs from all other empires in being more interested in liberty and freedom, the pursuit of which drives the administration of empire and makes it more benign than all other empires. What is different here is the detailed, systematic examination of the claim for exceptionalism via comparisons of similar phases of the hegemonic cycle, with attention to the global context of those phases occurring at different chronological times. Throughout Go also describes the historiography of exceptionalism, and shows that it, too, is parallel between the two empires. The bulk of the introduction is a careful examination of terms like empire, colonialism, power, hegemony, and so forth. Go is very careful and precise to specify how he uses such terms, why they are appropriate for his purposes, and how they differ from other meanings. He does this clearly without sliding into tedium – though that may not be obvious to some readers until well into the discussion. He is consistent in his use of terms, with occasional reminders that he is using these terms in special ways. Go is explicitly aware of the limitations of comparison based on only two cases. Here and there, he alludes to other possible cases to round out his comparisons. Most important, he couches his explanations in ways that facilitate development of a general theory of empires and the kinds of questions that demand further empirical investigation. This summary of the introduction, albeit in a different sequence than Go presents it, is necessary to understand all that follows, and to describe the layers of intellectual work that follow. The first substantive chapter compares the paths to imperial power. Here the nuanced similarities and differences are explored with due attention to the variations within each empire as well as between them. Already we begin to see that strategies of empire building originate far more in structural conditions – especially the forms and degrees of resistance from colonized peoples – than in the values of the empire. While most of the pieces of this analysis are familiar, the sum total is a significant contribution to understanding empire formation. A key point, clearly and strongly stated, is that, “… territorial expansion was a fundamentally racialized process” (53). It is intrinsic to empire, not simply a nasty side effect. The second substantive chapter examines strategies and tactics of colonial rule in both empires. It uncovers many more similarities than differences, a major one being the range of variation in both empires with respect to colonial administration. Key differences are that India 279 Journal of World-Systems Research was somewhat unrepresentative with regard to colonial administration for Britain and that for the United States, local conditions of colonies were often quite different than those faced by Britain. Consistently, it was local conditions, rather than home country values, that shaped variations in colonial administration. Both had serious concerns with legitimacy, within the home country and in the world at large. In short, arguments for exceptionalism do not fare well. The next chapter carefully delineates the differences between hegemony – being the most powerful economic actor on the global stage – and holding of colonies. It is the nexus of the two that is at issue here. These analytic distinctions inform a detailed comparison of both empires in the phase of hegemonic maturity. Both empires contracted relatively and preferred informal control, at times using economic influence rather than control of territory. Both underplayed their empires. As Go puts it, “It may well be that all hegemons, whether of the British of American variety, prefer not to inscribe the sign empire on their flags or foreheads” (116-117). The fourth substantive chapter examines how forms of empire are shaped by the global field, or context, within which they operate. Go establishes in detail that values have little to do with how empires operate. Rather, it is the global context of those operations, which importantly include how colonized peoples, whether formal or informal, react to and struggle against empire. Here we learn why many seeming opportunities for enlarging empire are eschewed. Often it is a combination of cost- benefit analysis of the return from colonization and global reaction to colonization in general. A major difference is that Britain, for the most part, operated during times in which holding colonies was tolerated by other large states. The Unites States on the other hand operated during eras when decolonization was much more common, and so more often relied on indirect forms of control. The fifth chapter, “Weary Titans: Declining Powers, New Imperialism,” is for this reader the heart of the book. This is where the close parallels between the two empires are seen most starkly: more formalized control, more military intervention, more threats of force. Somewhat implicit in this chapter are the suggestions for the current global situation based on what went before. Go is careful to explain that hegemonic decline does not mean falling into obscurity. Rather, it is relative, meaning that an empire can no longer demand that the world follow its dictates. It also means that the overall world-system is in a multipolar situation with strong competition among states. He notes that many other studies have demonstrated that this is a situation when extended war is most likely. The penultimate chapter reassembles the three phases of empire to explore the dynamics of empires. Findings, not surprisingly, are that both empires followed much the same pattern or trajectory, and for many of the same reasons. Chief among these was the global context within which imperial activities occurred, especially relative to competition among various states. What has at times been labeled new imperialism was only a phase of a larger dynamic. In short, wider patterns of competition and inter-relations go much further in explaining the course of empire than do national character or values. The brief conclusion summarizes the findings and makes many implicit or sketchy findings much more explicit. Go also raises issues in need of further examination. The overall argument is convincing (but as a reader I was not a “tough sell”): structure is more important than values, agency among the colonized is far more important than often credited, and the future is ominous. Go notes that as of 2010 the United States exhibits all the markers of a “…persistent if not stubborn empire. It also marks an enduring exceptionalism upon which the sun has not yet set” (244). The final paragraph continues: Book Reviews 280 This is frightening. If the story in this book tells us something, it is that empires that insist on their exceptionality do not behave well. And self-fashioned exceptional empires that are falling behave worse still. In this sense, our affair in Iraq and Afghanistan may just be a portent. Something more is coming (245). This glum conclusion should, it is to be hoped, serve as a call to action, not to hopeless depression. Patterns of Empire is a strong, well-argued book. I doubt it will convince anyone ideologically committed to American exceptionalism. It may, however, help others to reconsider the issue and its gruesome implications. Still, there are a few weaknesses, or areas that might have been more fully developed. While there are occasional mentions of Ireland, it is not examined as England’s first large attempt at empire. This probably would not alter the argument much, but would be interesting. More could have been said about how empire building is fundamentally racialized, though that might take another book. Finally, some of the conclusions might have been developed more fully, both at the end of each chapter and at the end of the book. Certainly the style of detailed exegesis of historical statements, supported by useful statistical evidence, does not readily lend itself to explicit theorizing. Still, more would have been helpful. These relatively minor weaknesses notwithstanding, this is an important contribution to our understanding of empires. It will be most palatable to scholars conversant with world- systems analysis since it draws heavily on major world-system findings. For others it may serve as a useful enticement to world-systems analysis. It is clearly and smoothly written. The detailed exegeses may be tedious to some, but are the meat of the argument. With careful guidance Patterns of Empire would be a useful addition to any course on macrosociology. It should become required reading for graduate courses. It is an important contribution to and extension of our understanding of the dynamics of empire. Thomas D. Hall, Department of Sociology and Anthropology, DePauw University thall@depauw.edu Emigh, Rebecca Jean. 2009. The Undevelopment of Capitalism: Sectors and Markets in Fifteenth-Century Tuscany. Philadelphia: Temple University Press. 286 pages, ISBN 978- 1592136193 Paper ($31.95); 978-1592136186 Cloth ($91.50) From the very beginning of her The Undevelopment of Capitalism: Sectors and Markets in Fifteenth-Century Tuscany, Rebecca Jean Emigh makes clear the subject-matter of her inquiry: “the classic social science question of why capitalist development occurs by asking where it does not occur,” that is, a paradoxical case of capitalist development—or more appropriately “undevelopment”—in the Italian region of Tuscany. In the Middle Ages, this region had a highly advanced economy and was a center for finance, trade, and manufacturing. It is, in fact, sometimes considered to be fully capitalist, mature, mailto:thall@depauw.edu 281 Journal of World-Systems Research or even, perhaps, industrializing. Yet, despite this early development, the transition to full-scale industrial capitalism occurred relatively late there (1). The resulting analysis takes the form of a vivid and persuasive description of the dynamic relations between city and countryside in fifteenth-century Tuscany. A great strength of this superbly researched book lies in its insistence on a relational framework—not just cities, but the relationship between, the co-determinative character of, urban and rural developments. Markets are treated as structures that are inherently economic, cultural, and political; they consist of both resources (for instance land, money, goods) and schemas shaping individual decision-making (such as partibility of inheritance, honor, patriarchy, fairness, gender); and they develop in relation to other markets. Emigh will then apply a combination of theories of markets and sectors to the Tuscan “case.” According to the author, the possibility that sectoral relations interact with markets as structures to create—or prevent—a dual dynamic of shrinking agricultural size and increasing productivity has not been explored. I do so explicitly, by considering how sectoral difference in economic interests, manifest in markets as structures composed of schemas and resources, created patterns of sectoral interaction that eroded Tuscan markets (58). The analysis, using negative case methodology, proceeds through archival research and considers three divers types of communities: smallholding, where production was relatively more subsistence- oriented (using as examples two small communes in the Val de Cecina in the Florentine distretto of south-western Tuscany, Montecatini and Castelnuovo); sharecropping, where production was relatively more market-oriented (in the Mugello north of Florence in the Florentine contado, the parishes of San Pietro a Sieve and Santa Maria a Spugnole); and landlords resident in Florence. A meticulous reading of the surviving records leads Emigh to a careful exploration and elaboration of her statement that during the critical period of “roughly 1350 to 1500 … the transition to capitalism could have but did not occur” (14). In the smallholder regions of the distretto land-holding patterns were characterized by the circulation of property, a vibrant local market, with the frequent buying and selling of generally small parcels used to match the extent of holdings to family size. These smallholders thus tended to hold more land during midlife and give land as a dowry rather than use cash as was more common for Florentines. The direct management of such transactions required a certain level of numeracy and literacy. Florentine investors held land in the contado, which was nearer to the city (easier to manage and with lower transaction costs) than the distretto, as a hedge against losses in urban commerce, and leased it on either a share-term or fixed-term basis. Here Emigh’s analysis is particularly nuanced and speaks directly to the question of the transition to capitalism: The urban and rural ventures of urban protocapitalist merchants were shaped by the same profit motive. Thus, contrary to previous arguments that sharecropping was a feudal form of land tenure or that it did not represent a substantial change in productive relations, in this context, sharecropping did represent a fundamental change in rural regions and was driven by the capitalist, not feudal, elements of Book Reviews 282 the economy. However … sharecropping also erased institutional supports for rural markets as it spread and decreased rural autonomy. Therefore, even though sharecropping was a capitalist tenurial form because it was embedded with this particular Tuscan pattern of sectoral differences, economic interests, and sectoral transfers, it did not support a transition to capitalism (128-29). Florentine acquisitions transformed the countryside of the contado by consolidating holdings and displacing the organization of agricultural production—indeed much of everyday life in general—to Florentines, and given the asymmetry of resources “it was not so much that markets did not exist because they were incompatible with sharecropping as a tenurial form … but that local markets structures were eliminated by the inequality in capitalist markets. … Sharecropping unlinked property devolution, agricultural production, and local markets; these were mutually reinforcing in smallholding regions” (166). Again, writing of the Mugello: “Agricultural investment and innovation were therefore tied tightly to urban business practices. Rural regions had little autonomy and rural interests were represented only when they coincided with urban ones. This pattern of sectoral relationships—along with the tendency of the capitalist market to undermine local market institutions—was unlikely to produce a transition to capitalism” (195). Nonetheless, in the end the central question remains the “transition to capitalism,” which according to the book, did not occur in the fifteenth century, but sometime much later. But this would be a transition to what—“full-scale industrial capitalism” as the author often suggests, or the “private property” and “wage labor” that already existed to different degrees throughout the region? Or should we be thinking of the problem in terms of a larger system of relations? The author does, even often, suggest the larger systemic nature of the localized patterns of development under consideration; for instance: urban control of sharecropping—especially when it was a capitalist response by urban merchants to Florentine market conditions—limited rural inhabitants’ involvement in markets, by reducing their needs and opportunities to buy and sell land and agricultural commodities. Sometimes, the intensification of market activities turns local markets into capitalist ones. In Tuscany, however, the intensification of capitalist markets undermined local markets, inhibiting the growth of a widespread, domestic market (202-3). But to answer “what” immediately becomes a question of “where,” and this question of location should not be taken as an unexamined given. Indeed, this is the question that the book puts in high relief for this reviewer. Emigh is well familiar with the “transition” debates and in her review of this literature she asserts: “There is an increased tendency … to use the plural forms ‘transitions’ and ‘capitalisms’ to emphasize their variability and complexity” (2005: 362). There is, however, an alternative to conceptualizing the point of arrival of the transition(s) to capitalism(s) as either the observed heterogeneity of social structures or an unattained homogeneity of social relations. These are the two possible outcomes if we are talking about sets of social relations compared across a somehow subdivided space. The alternative emerged from the debates in Science and Society (and their follow-on) in the early 1950s following the publication of Maurice Dobb’s Studies in the Development of Capitalism. It was in the context of these exchanges that Paul 283 Journal of World-Systems Research Sweezy made the initial breakthrough that led to a conceptualization of capitalism not as simply a set of coincident social relations but rather as an evolving historical system of relations and eventually to the idea that development itself was actually dependent on hierarchical diversity across the system. He did this by concentrating on the unit of analysis, the question of “where.” Historical forces which are external with respect to one set of social relations are internal with respect to a more comprehensive set of social relations. And so it was in the case of Western European feudalism. The expansion of trade, with the concomitant growth of towns and markets, was external to the feudal mode of production, but it was internal as far as the whole European-Mediterranean economy was concerned (1976: 105). We are thus faced with the importance of the problem of bounding; how we decide to draw the line between what is “inside” and what is “outside” will fundamentally shape the analysis. Interestingly, Emigh does recognize the issue: not only was there no domestic market, there was no other internal dynamic that supported independent rural growth in the absence of … urban investment and therefore, no stimuli to the urban economy other than international trade. External changes, therefore, such as competition by English and Dutch manufacturing during the late medieval and early modern periods, strongly affected the entire Tuscan economy (205). She does not, however, in this highly circumscribed version of “The Case that Doesn’t Fit” take the final step that that Maurice Aymard took: to situate his unit of observation in the larger European world-economy, or unit of analysis, where centers of development have moved around over time—the observable shifts in core-periphery relations—within a single, large-scale, axial (hierarchical) division of labor (see Aymard 1982). Emigh limits her analysis to the “Tuscan case” and it “reinforces the point that capitalism is not a self-sustaining system” (223); indeed, it is only from this optic that such a statement seems to this reviewer sustainable. Sweezy opened the way for rethinking (world-systemically) a whole category of apparently intractable or paradoxical questions in terms of long-distance relations; they include, for instance, whether the U.S. ante bellum South should be considered capitalist or not, how production based on slave labor could be highly industrialized—and not insignificantly, as Emigh argues, how sharecroppers could be engaged in a “largely capitalist system” (221)—and how the ascendancy of an initially very poor New England can now be understood in terms of a relationship, a division of labor, with the slave plantations of the Caribbean (see, for instance, Tomich and Zeuske 2008a and 2008b, and Solow 1991). Thus, the models of agrarian capitalism that Emigh enumerates (209) also take on new tonalities for the reader willing to think on a larger, and systemic, scale. So then the salient issue remains whether we can treat the Tuscan “case” (thus by definition, or “presupposition,” one among others) as an independent and autonomous episode of non-development only to become “capitalist” late in the game. The way that we come to grips with this question will be fundamental to how we conceptualize our own future. Thus, although this is not, in the end, an empirical question about Tuscany, nevertheless we must agree with the author that: “To know the present, scholars need empirical knowledge, not presuppositions, of Book Reviews 284 the past … my use of primary, archival evidence work is an explicit attempt to fill this gap” (10). And here Emigh’s attempt is most successful and satisfying. The strengths of the book include not only the integrity of the scholarship exhibited in the careful archival research and appropriate statistical elaborations usefully and readably presented, but beyond that the author allows us to meet some of the real people who populated this region in the fifteenth century. This is certainly a large component of what makes this such a fascinating read. One can almost hear the particular Tuscan accent. We are allowed to share in family decisions and observe them over several generations; after all, real people do have a say in making their own history. In sum, this is a rich and rewarding work, highly recommended, that poses serious questions seriously. References Aymard, Maurice. 1982. “From Feudalism to Capitalism in Italy: The Case That Doesn’t Fit.” Review VI, 2, 131-208. Emigh, Rebecca Jean. 2005. “The Great Debates: Transitions to Capitalisms.” In Adams, Julia, Elisabeth S. Clemens, and Ann Shola Orloff, eds., Remaking Modernity: Politics, History, and Sociology. Durham: Duke University Press, 355-80. Solow, Barbara, ed. 1991. Slavery and the Rise of the Atlantic System. New York: Cambridge University Press. Sweezy, Paul. 1976. “A Rejoinder.” In Sweezy, Paul, et al., The Transition from Feudalism to Capitalism. London: Verso. [originally published in Science and Society, Spring, 1953] Tomich, Dale and Michael Zeuske, eds. 2008a. The Second Slavery: Mass Slavery, World- Economy, and Comparative Microhistories, Part I. Review XXXI, 2, 91-247. , eds. 2008b. The Second Slavery: Mass Slavery, World-Economy, and Comparative Microhistories, Part II. Review XXXI, 3, 251-437. Richard E. Lee, Professor, Department of Sociology Director, Fernand Braudel Center, SUNY-Binghamton rlee@binghamton.edu http://www2.binghamton.edu/sociology/people/richard.html Bair, Jennifer (ed.) 2009. Frontiers of Commodity Chain Research. Stanford: Stanford University Press. 296 Pages, ISBN 978-0804759243 Paper ($24.95); 978-0804759236 Cloth ($70.00) The varied uses of chain metaphors for describing the linked processes of transforming raw materials into finished products have generated divergent terminology, concepts, and research foci. Jennifer Bair’s edited volume provides a major service in organizing and explaining the relationship between different perspectives on chain analysis. The introductory chapter charts the mailto:rlee@binghamton.edu http://www2.binghamton.edu/sociology/people/richard.html 285 Journal of World-Systems Research genealogies of the global commodity chain (GCC) and global value chain (GVC) frameworks from their origins in the world-system paradigm and elsewhere. Bair illuminates the theoretical and empirical debates around the terms “value’ and “commodity” chains —a distinction that is often murky. While Bair never explicitly demarcates the “frontiers” of chain research, she organizes the chapters around three areas of debate: operationalization of chain concepts, chain governance, and the study of activism and labor in chain analysis. This organizational structure works, though it becomes apparent that these are not the only important debates within the field. Indeed, there are many frontiers to pursue and the chapters bring them into view. Steven Topik’s chapter leads the first section, thematically organized around methodological issues in chain research. Topik demonstrates how the governance of coffee chains is historically dynamic, reflecting changes on the “production side”, but also cultural constructions of coffee that fueled expanded consumption. He draws attention to the conceptual problems of understanding variation within chain governance over time and space, the importance of contextualizing chains, and the social construction of economic activities, themes also pursued by other contributors. David Smith and Matt Mahutga draw inspiration from Stephen Bunker’s research on raw material extraction to emphasize the implications of extractive economies for unequal exchange. Through a network analysis of trade data, they demonstrate that between 1965 and 2000 strong semi-peripheral countries become more “core” while weak semi-peripheral and strong peripheral countries moved towards the weak periphery. This polarization is driven by the declining mobility of countries whose growth of extractive exports is similar to those in manufacturing, contributing to further peripheralization. Immanuel Wallerstein’s brief essay argues for the value of a broader contextualization of chain studies, particularly in the influence of state policy. His overarching methodological advice: “the only thing we have to fear is looking too narrowly” (89). Together, the chapters in the first section raise important questions about how to conceptualize and contextualize chains, and to account for how they change over time. The middle section covers debates around chain governance. John Talbot describes advantages derived from studying tropical commodities, including the ability to “root” chains in processes of raw material extraction. Tropical commodities are often complete chains with relatively simple structures, but with multiple modes of governance and so offer an opportune site for advancing chain research. Talbot suggests that empirical work would benefit from comparative chain studies and on refining terminology. Timothy Sturgeon’s chapter traces the origins of the GVC perspective. Drawing on economic sociology’s debate with transaction cost economics, the GVC perspective offers five ideal types of chain governance, including three types of network governance between markets and hierarchies. The GVC governance typologies provide firm-level tools for understanding the governance of particular nodes within larger chains but do not appear to fully replace the buyer- driven (BDCC) or producer-driven (PDCC) commodity chain categories developed in the GCC framework. Work remains to discern whether the GVC categories may be aggregated to capture the governance of entire chains. Gary Hamilton and Gary Gereffi demonstrate the continued tractability of the BDCC/PDCC categories in their account of the rise of East Asian economies. Challenging the conventional emphasis on developmental states, they argue that the retail revolution in the United States and the development of retail-dominated chains sought suppliers abroad and, through a process of “iterative matching,” fostered demand-responsive economies in East Asia. Book Reviews 286 This chapter characterizes a divergence between GCC and economic sociology centered on the privileging of institutional explanations by conventional economic sociologists and their tendency to view the global economy as an agglomeration of national economies. This constitutes “sociological imperialism” that ignores “industry variables” and denies “that global processes matter in explaining economic organization” (142-3). While suggesting that chain studies and economic sociology could find common ground, they do not return to this argument and so how to achieve this remains less than clear. Still, this chapter and the one by Sturgeon rightly raise questions about the relationship between chain studies and economic sociology, as well as the continued divergence between the GVC and GCC frameworks on chain governance. The third section moves away from describing the structures of chains to focus on workers and activism. Kate Raworth and Thalia Kidder analyze an impressively large number of interviews conducted in numerous countries with workers and unions (among others), and representatives of lead firms in the apparel and fruit and vegetables chains. The authors show how just-in-time production deteriorates work conditions for the low-wage workers. Unfortunately, the chapter is largely silent on the sizable literature that situates low-wage work regimes in chain frameworks (e.g. Bonacich and Appelbaum 2000; Collins 2003) or the extensive literature on gender, labor and globalization (e.g. Ong 1991). Some findings – such as the role of gender-stereotypes in low wage labor regimes – are presented as novel when they are not. More seriously, the lack of engagement with prior research makes it difficult to know where the “frontier” of research on chain analysis and labor actually sits. Still, the chapter raises interesting issues, such as the reputational concerns of suppliers and how value is created and dominated by particular actors in chains. Julie Guthman addresses the question of value in her chapter on voluntary ethical labels. Ethical labels “unveil” the commodity by making transparent its production, thus shifting the location of value generation and capture between nodes in the chain. Such redistribution is the normative core of chain analysis to the degree that it is concerned with industrial upgrading to capture more value. Yet, ethical labels can themselves operate as a kind of rent-creating “fetish.” Moral concerns operating as economic rents raises the question of the distinction between the cultural and the economic, and the relative weight to be given to each when explaining outcomes of chain structure and process. The final chapter by William Munro and Rachel Schurman explains the success of the anti-GMO movement in Britain and its failure in the United States through the structure of seed and retail grocery chains. In the U.K.., they highlight the structure and transnational character of the seed commodity chain and a strong culture of popular distrust. This created a retail grocery sector vulnerable to activist pressure when combined with the politicization of the GMO issue and its framing as a question of “American food imperialism” (213). In the U.S., the structure of the seed chain consolidated power at the “producer end” while blocking activists’ efforts at the “retail end.” Finally, a “trusting consumer culture” consolidated support for GMOs. The political openings or closures created by chains are not just structural but are “informed by cultures of consumption, production, and competition” (209). Culture is theorized as embedded with economic activities and strategies of firms, suggesting that neat divisions between the two are difficult to maintain. Still, the causal weight placed on trust in regulatory authority is dubious since trust is not independent of perceptions of risk (Poortinga and Pidgeon 2005). The strength of the argument is in linking the structure of the chain to strategies of activists. Studies of chains and activism may benefit from a deeper engagement with the concepts from social movements literature, such as framing, to better capture the dynamics of culture within chains. 287 Journal of World-Systems Research Bair’s volume captures many frontiers of chain analysis. In addition to debates that frame the chapters, several other themes emerged from the collection: what are the relationships between chain studies and economic sociology? How can chain studies build on the insights of the social movements literature? What should be the explanatory weight given to institutional context versus industry variables, and to what degree can they be empirically distinguished from each other? How can chain analyses better link consumption to production and reproduction? And, how can a focus on extractive processes enhance the understanding of chains and economic development? These themes illustrate how the collection speaks to new questions being posed by chain scholars. It will serve as an excellent primer for scholars wanting to be quickly brought up to date with the chain literature and push it forward. References Bonacich, Edna, and Richard P. Appelbaum. 2000. Behind the Label: Inequality in the Los Angeles Apparel Industry. Berkeley: University of California Press. Collins, Jane. 2003. Threads: Gender, Labor, and Power in the Global Apparel Industry. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Ong, Aihwa. 1991. “The Gender and Labor Politics of Postmodernity.” Annual Review of Anthropology 20: 279–309. Poortinga, Wouter, and Nick F Pidgeon. 2005. “Trust in Risk Regulation: Cause or Consequence of the Acceptability of GM Food?” Risk Analysis 25(1): 199–209. Joseph Conti, Department of Sociology, University of Wisconsin-Madison jconti@ssc.wisc.edu Chorev, Nitsan. 2007. Remaking U.S. Trade Policy: From Protectionism to Globalization. Ithaca: Cornell University. ISBN 978-0801445750 Cloth ($47.50) Trade liberalization – the reduction of tariffs and other barriers to trade – has played a central role in economic globalization, by enabling goods and capital to move more freely across borders. In Remaking U.S. Trade Policy: From Protectionism to Globalization, Nitsan Chorev makes trade policy a central object of study in trying to understand the process of globalization. She looks specifically at the trade policies of the U.S., which, as the dominant global political and economic power since the end of the Second World War, has been a central actor in this process. Prior to the 1930s, the U.S. government was strongly protectionist and maintained high tariffs to protect its domestic market. Yet, in the period since then, the U.S. has become one of the world’s leading advocates of trade liberalization and a key driver of economic globalization. The book sets out to explain this significant change in U.S. economic policy: Why did the U.S. government shift from trade protectionism to supporting trade liberalization? Chorev shows that the answer lies in domestic political struggles: ultimately, economic actors advocating trade liberalization (“internationalists,” including internationally competitive corporations, financiers, investors, and importers) prevailed over protectionist industries and mailto:jconti@ssc.wisc.edu Book Reviews 288 workers. Interestingly, Chorev argues that the most consequential struggles centered not on the substance of specific policies – such as lowering high tariffs or abolishing import quotas – but on institutions – the rules and procedures governing trade policy formulation and implementation. Chorev demonstrates that supporters of internationalist policies managed to defeat protectionist opposition by changing the locus of authority for trade policy-making: they moved the battlefield to sites that were more favorable to their free trade agenda and limited the room for protectionist interests to maneuver. Specifically, internationalist business successfully drove a shift in such authority from a protectionist Congress to agencies in the executive branch supporting free trade; and later from the administration to the World Trade Organization (WTO). Chorev identifies three major eras of U.S. trade policy since the 1930s, each marked by an institutional shift that made trade policies progressively more liberal: (1) “selective protectionism,” beginning in 1934, when Congress for the first time delegated authority for setting tariffs to the executive, which resulted in dramatically lower tariffs and the creation of a regime in which “liberal principles prevailed” but “protectionist exceptions” were still allowed (66); (2) “conditional protectionism,” beginning in 1974, with a further transferring of authority over nontariff trade measures and trade remedies from Congress to the executive, which limited the scope for protectionist measures by making them subject to strict legal and bureaucratic rules; and (3) “legalized multilateralism,” beginning in 1994, when protectionist measures became disciplined by binding international rules with the creation of the WTO. According to Chorev, each new set of institutional arrangements put in place stricter rules biased towards free trade and further limited the scope for protectionist policies. These institutional shifts gradually restricted the political influence of protectionist forces, as the voices of those opposed to trade liberalization became increasingly excluded from the process of decision-making. The book thus provides a fascinating study of how institutional transformations constrained the political opportunities for opposition to neoliberal globalization. Chorev convincingly argues that “the essence of the institutional project of globalization has been a project of shifting authority, both at the national and the international levels” (202), away from explicitly political sites to bureaucratic or judicial sites of decision-making that are out of the realm of public debate and democratic political deliberation. As she states, “the institutional project of globalization entails a process of depoliticization.”(12) What Chorev calls the “bureaucratization/judicialization of political processes” (18) has politically weakened opposition to trade liberalization, and by extension, neoliberal globalization. (While the prospects for social movements or other actors seeking to challenge the current trajectory of neoliberal globalization may thus appear bleak, Chorev leaves room for a glimmer of hope by indicating that “globalization is an ongoing institutional project” (208) and existing institutional arrangements continue to be subject to change and contestation.) Existing studies of the political processes and struggles involved in the making of globalization have tended to focus on the international level, examining how the U.S. created the current neoliberal global economic order, spreading market-oriented policies and propelling countries to open and liberalize their markets. In doing so, however, they have tended to treat the U.S. as a black box, assumed to be an actor with unified and coherent national interests that it pursued in international politics and global economic governance. Chorev’s analysis is distinct in that it shines the spotlight on the domestic political struggles that took place within the U.S. and ultimately drove its external policies. She deconstructs the notion of “the U.S.” as a unitary actor with coherent interests in the realm of trade, and instead shows the conflict between protectionist and internationalist elements in the U.S. economy and within the U.S. state itself. 289 Journal of World-Systems Research As a result, the book offers important insight into the inconsistencies and tensions in U.S. trade policy (which often lead to charges of hypocrisy) between liberalism and protectionism. Chorev’s rich and detailed use of archival materials and interviews allows for a fine-grained analysis that adds much needed nuance to our understanding of the roles of different actors – and the battles among them – in the process of globalization. In shedding light on the institutional and political underpinnings of the process of trade liberalization, Chorev provides a means of understanding the contradictions of globalization and their origins, including the tension between liberalism and protectionism built into the WTO. The globalization project as we know it is the impure result of ongoing political conflicts. The book makes an important contribution to the literature on globalization, by examining a critical area – trade policy – which sociologists have too often been willing to cede to political scientists and economists. Through her analysis of U.S. trade policy, Chorev challenges traditional accounts of the relationship between the state and globalization and provides a valuable corrective to accounts that erase the agency of states – and therefore the importance of domestic political struggles – in the making of globalization. However, it is possible that in seeking to debunk the myth of globalization as an autonomous force that emerged independent of states, she goes too far in the opposite direction of emphasizing the latter’s agency. Chorev situates the origins of globalization in domestic political and institutional struggles: globalization, she argues, “started as a domestic affair” (x). While her analysis of the U.S. case makes this claim extremely compelling, the degree to which it applies to other states is less clear. As the global hegemon, the U.S. has been a key driver of the globalization project, frequently imposing neoliberal laws and globalizing practices on others. However, the U.S. is unique in the extent to which it has been a rule-maker, rather than a rule-taker, in the global economic order. Chorev skillfully uses her analysis of the U.S. case to contest the traditional conception of globalization as a “structural condition imposed from above” (5), but for many states, this may still be a fairly accurate depiction. For developing countries, in particular (though not exclusively), it may not be inaccurate to characterize the state and domestic political struggles as primarily reactive to external economic and political pressures, whether, for example, the Third World debt crisis of the 1980s, IMF structural adjustment programs, or the Uruguay Round WTO agreements. But Chorev acknowledges that the U.S. case likely overstates the agency of states and the role of domestic political struggles in shaping globalization; the relative importance of domestic and international factors could be quite different for other countries. In the end, this is not a flaw in the argument of the book but rather an indication of the value for future scholarship of going beyond the U.S. case. The book makes a path-breaking contribution by drawing attention to the important but under-explored issue of the role of domestic political and institutional struggles in shaping contemporary globalization. As such, it provides a rich new terrain for future research. Exhaustively researched and compellingly argued, this is a masterful work, which should become a key text in the cannons of political sociology, economic sociology, and international political economy. Kristen Hopewell, University of British Columbia, Okanagan kristen.hopewell@ubc.ca | https://sites.google.com/site/profkristenhopewell/ mailto:kristen.hopewell@ubc.ca https://sites.google.com/site/profkristenhopewell/ Book Reviews 290 Searle, John R. 2011. Making the Social World: The Structure of Human Civilization. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 224 Pages, ISBN: 978-0199829527 Paper ($17.95); 978- 0195396170 Cloth ($24.95) Making the Social World is a restatement and a (rather slight) revision of John Searle’s argument for the process through which institutional facts are constructed as laid out in his landmark 1995 book The Construction of Social Reality. In this more recent (and rather pithy but always demanding) monograph, Searle restates the basics of the theory, responds to various criticisms that have cropped up over the years, tidies up some terminology and tightens up some logical holes in the argument. Readers who are familiar with the original 1995 argument will find little that is particularly new or groundbreaking in this book. However, for readers that are new to Searle, this book represents a very effective introduction to one of the most ambitious and provocative attempts to provide a workable, non-idealist foundation for institutional analysis currently on offer. Searle’s argument is complex and wide-ranging, but once the reader makes the effort to master the relevant terminology it also has the advantage—characteristic of writers in the analytic-philosophical tradition—of being well-constructed, logically consistent and clear in its implications. Searle’s primary goal is to develop a workable “social ontology” of institutions in particular and social reality in general. Searle’s point of departure is resolutely materialist and anti-dualist. The key problematic is how is it that such institutional creations as schools, presidents, money, citizenship, private property, marriage and contracts, come to seem as natural as run of the mill physical objects. For Searle the key feature of institutional reality is that it does not fit neatly into the standard category of the “subjective/mental” versus the “objective/material” because institutions appear to be mind-dependent yet, objective features of the “furniture” of the world. To shed light on this issue, Searle makes several preliminary distinctions. First, he distinguishes between mind independent and mind dependent phenomena. Examples of the former include the atomic weight of Plutonium or the distance between the Earth and the Sun; one example of the latter would be the fact of experiencing a toothache at a given moment. All mind-dependent phenomena are what he calls intentionality relative; that is they exist only insofar as they can figure as the “content” of our mental states (thus a “belief” in something is intentionality-relative). However, not all intentionality relative phenomena are mind-dependent; instead, when intentionality relative phenomena are established by acts of collective intentionality they give rise to mind-independent but intentionality relative phenomena, such as the fact that a given individual is a citizen of the United States. All of institutional reality, according to Searle, consists of collections of such facts. In that respect the “I-intentions” accounting for run-of-the-mill statements of intent must be distinguished from the “we-intentions” that lie behind the creation of institutional facts. For Searle, what distinguishes human societies from animal societies is the fact that humans, via acts of collective intentionality can assign status functions to objects, such that these objects can perform functions that go beyond anything that we would expect from their physical structure alone. The prototypical case is money; here pieces of paper, metal or even electronic signatures can play the role of currency. This function is independent of the material constitution of currency. Money is only money when its function is recognized as such by a given collectivity. Humans thus have the capacity to institute new functions of physical objects (including human persons) simply by agreeing to act as if the object performs that function in the designated context. This allows human collectivities to transcend the functional limitations of the 291 Journal of World-Systems Research physical object world, opening up an entirely new realm of collectively instituted (social) realities. The primary tool used to publicly represent this realm of institutional reality is language. For Searle, understanding the functions and structure of language as a social institution is crucial, since no other institution can exist without some public system of symbolic representation. The primitive operation in the creation of institutional facts is the public statement of a particular type of speech act, what Searle refers to as declarations. All institutional facts depend (explicitly or implicitly) on such declarations. While other speech acts are designed with the purpose of either saying something about the world or stating an intention to change the world, declarations generate the very state of affairs that constitute their “content” by the very act of enunciation (e.g. “I now declare you husband and wife”); they are thus the only ones that can produce new institutional realities. Declarations assign collectively recognized status functions to objects or persons by the enunciation of a constitutive rule. Constitutive rules differ from regulative rules (which simply specify which actions are and are not allowed) by declaring the status function of an object, action or person in a particular context. Thus, they have the abstract structure “X counts as Y in context C”. For instance, in chess the checkmate rule is a constitutive rule because it tells us the particular set of actions that counts as checkmate in that context. In the same way, once a particular piece of paper has been branded a “dollar bill” it counts as “money” in the relevant context. In this respect, the main role that the assignment of status functions plays in social life is deontic. That is, status functions are the primary mechanisms through which normative regulation occurs in human societies. For Searle, institutional reality is primarily concerned with the assignment and management of power relations; they are the principal “vehicles for power.” The reason for why the central role of institutional facts is the regulation of power relations is that for all members of a given collectivity, the active acceptance of a given assignment of status function by an authoritative body constitutes an acceptance of the various rights, obligations, responsibilities, permissions, requirements, duties, entitlements, prohibitions and authorizations that come with that function for the persons that fall under the jurisdiction of the status assignment in question. Institutional facts thus become primarily a way to regulate deontic relationships among members of a collectivity. Acts of institutional creation therefore can be thought of as the collective creation and imposition of deontic powers over persons. For Searle, the reason why deontic powers are important is not only that they produce “social order” where there otherwise would not be any, but also because they serve to provide desire –independent reasons for action, thus coupling we-intentional production of institutions with the pursuit of private aims and goals. That is, once a particular status assignment is made, persons have a collective duty to perform the actions specified by the status regardless of whether they have a desire to perform the action or not. Social order requires a disjunction between the ability to create desire-independent reasons for action as institutional facts and private beliefs and desires for action. It is hard not to overstate Searle’s intellectual accomplishment. As it stands, Searle’s conceptual apparatus represents the most sophisticated attempt to theorize the problematic of institutional reality in contemporary social theory. It does however, have some predictable weaknesses. One of them is his rather a-sociological treatment of power. While acknowledging that institutional reality depends on acceptance, and even while acknowledging that “acceptance” is sometimes imposed on others, he fails to properly integrate mechanisms of coercion, collective imposition and cultural hegemony into his framework. Too often, we-intentions for the Book Reviews 292 generation of novel status functions emerge unproblematically and the role of social conflict in their production is thereby muted. The scope and range of Searle’s explanatory framework would be greatly enhanced if it were coupled with a conflict-theoretic account of the role of language and ritual in the production of institutional facts and of group competition for the control of those societal institutions to which the assignment of status functions (e.g. the state, schools, religious institutions) is delegated. Omar Lizardo, Department of Sociology, University of Notre Dame olizardo@nd.edu www.nd.edu/~olizardo Smith, Jackie, Marina Karides, Marc Becker, Dorval Brunelle, Christopher Chase-Dunn, Donatella della Porta, Rosalba Icaza Garza, Jeffrey Juris, Lorenzo Mosca, Ellen Reese, Peter Smith, and Rolando Vazquez. 2008. Global Democracy and the World Social Forums. Boulder, CO: Paradigm Publishers. 177 pages, ISBN 978-1594514200 Paper ($29.95); 978- 1594514203 Cloth ($108.00) In this era of financial crisis, prolonged warfare, and ecological peril, it is unsurprising that analysts, activists, and citizens around the world are demanding new pathways into the future. The vibrancy of social unrest has impressed many movement leaders and scholars, and posed challenges for political and corporate leaders. But can multi-faceted forms of protest coalesce into a coherent movement capable of pressing effectively for greater global democracy, equality, and sustainability? In this period of crisis, when the world could potentially shift toward a path of greater collective rationality or continue a process of unraveling, this question has become vitally important. Global Democracy and the World Social Forums by Jackie Smith et al. is a particularly useful book for shedding light on the possibilities and challenges facing this “movement of movements” that is trying to create an alternative path for our collective future. Co-authored by an impressive roster of researchers, this book provides a clearly-written, empirically rich, and insightful analysis of a uniquely important space – the World Social Forum process – within which alternative visions are being discussed and refined. The book is written partly for an audience that is unfamiliar with the history and characteristics of the WSF, and so it can be used in undergraduate courses with great success. At the same time, the book describes findings from surveys that were gathered at the World Social Forum, and so it will be of interest to more experienced students and researchers as well. Indeed, one of the unique strengths of Global Democracy and the World Social Forums is the data that is used to illuminate key questions. After presenting a short but comprehensive history of the World Social Forum, the authors turn to a detailed analysis of the results of a survey that was conducted at the 2005 World Social Forum in Porto Alegre, Brazil. Their survey data shows, for instance, that close to 60% of respondents favor abolishing rather than reforming global capitalism and institutions such as the IMF and the World Bank. At the same time, when asked whether it made sense to try to create a democratic world government, 29% of their respondents said that creating such a government would be a good and plausible idea, 39% said it was a good idea but not plausible, and 32% responded that it would be a bad idea to even try (89). The book is filled with other interesting empirical data on tactical debates, the mailto:olizardo@nd.edu http://www.nd.edu/~olizardo 293 Journal of World-Systems Research characteristics of those who attend the meeting, and what kinds of alternatives are favored by participants. Global Democracy and the World Social Forums also provides useful discussions of challenges that face those who engage in the Social Forum process. The authors describe how the costs of travel impact who is able to participate in WSF meetings, and they then discuss efforts that have been made to create city and regional forums in order to broaden opportunities for participation. They also describe instances in which gender and race inequalities have emerged within the WSFs, and how these issues have been addressed by participants. Overall, the book presents a sympathetic but also critical analysis of one of the most important spaces for global activism in our age. Activists, students, and researchers will certainly find a great deal of value in this book. Bruce Podobnik, Lewis & Clark College podobnik@lclark.edu Karotzogianni, Athina and Andrew Robinson. 2010. Power, Resistance and Conflict in the Contemporary World: Social Movements, Networks and Hierarchies. New York: Routledge. 324 pages, ISBN 978-0415452984 Cloth ($140.00) What is theory for? Many of us resort to old-school definitions when we teach introductory or even some upper level sociology students. Theory, we explain to our students, is useful in its ability to describe, explain, and predict the social world. Of course, we are less likely to be able to predict the social world, but we maintain that element of the definition, perhaps due to our ongoing contentious comparison to scientific theory. Wallerstein’s rethinking of social science (1991) provides a different entry into the discussion of theory, even as he militates against the perception of world-systems analysis as a theory. Wallerstein suggests that the purpose of analysis/theory is “open(ing) up many of the most important or most interesting questions” in the effort “to present rationally the real, historical alternatives that lie before us” (237). Here Wallerstein provides an entry into another purpose of theory: emancipation. The emancipatory capacity of theory is one endorsed by a variety of theoretical sources, from feminism, to liberation theology, to anti-colonial theory, let alone forebears like Marx and Gramsci. The expectation is that the more we know about structures of oppression, the more we can find ways to resist and even overturn them. It is in this spirit that Athina Karotzogianni and Andrew Robinson attempt to synthesize a number of disparate contributions. Yet their adherence to a Deleuzian and Guattarian philosophy forces me to question the reconcilability of theories that describe and explain different forms of dominance with a political philosophy they describe this way: “ …the main purpose of philosophy is the invention of concepts. The philosopher is the concept’s friend” (7). I do not mean to build a straw person. Karotzogianni and Robinson clearly see political change as a goal of Deleuzian philosophy. According to this view, change is accomplished by an ‘affirmation of difference’ that will foster alternative understandings that will, in turn, challenge hierarchical world-systemic power. Yet in the effort to bring in so many different theoretical strands, this book reads like stone soup, with readers given enormous portions of theory, mailto:podobnik@lclark.edu Book Reviews 294 punctuated by few empirical referents, and fewer ways to tie the different conceptual contributions together. Karotzogianni and Robinson take the reader through a long and painful unpacking of Deleuze and Guattari. We are forewarned in the introduction, but the unwillingness to move beyond high levels of abstraction quickly turns tiresome. The chapter on world-system ‘theory’ is certainly clearer, in large part due to the sources Karotzogianni and Robinson summarize. Because of its summary nature, JWSR readers will find little new in this chapter. Indeed, the long list of world-systems inspired topics, with little transition between them, and none to other chapters, reinforces the perception of this book as an extended literature review. Here, Karotzogianni and Robinson mix together research discussing very different moments of hegemony and crisis, without noting the historical specificity of the contributions, and focus on theoretical debates without recognizing how the different topics of historical research led researchers to different positions. Throughout the book, the occasional use of empirical examples suggests two things: First, Karotzogianni and Robinson’s arguments might be made in somewhat more accessible ways. Second, the very precise use of examples throughout the book smacks of empirical cherry- picking. In several chapters, these examples are only sentence-long, derived from their reading of others; elsewhere they are several paragraphs of case-explication crafted to make their theoretical points. The Zapatistas re-appear consistently as one of their examples of choice, yet Karotzogianni and Robinson fail to recognize the limited amount of medium-term political impact this movement has had within Mexico, focusing instead on the theoretical contributions that can be derived from their struggle. By the time this reader reached the chapter on reactive networks – the chapter with the greatest amount of empirical reference – I was convinced that the rationale by which Karotzogianni and Robinson chose their examples was either to exemplify their argument or to contradict those they oppose. This, of course, is in great contradiction to the kind of world-systemic analysis that prioritizes careful historical method. The synthetic contribution of this book is found in the discussion of networks that have the potential to contest U.S. dominance and global neoliberalism. Ethno-religious movements, anti-globalization movements, movements of those living in shantytowns and slums all “constitute a fundamental structural challenge to the logic of hierarchy” endemic to world- system domination (130). In this chapter and in the conclusion, Karotzogianni and Robinson tout the way such networks have obstructed the space of domineering states and economies. In many ways, this analysis harkens back to the early discussions of new social movements, which also privileged the celebration of difference and the system-confounding characteristic of different structures of resistance, but with less far-reaching claims than this book makes. Yet Karotzogianni and Robinson’s focus on informal networks ignores many of the institutional and linked efforts (although within hierarchical powers) that Smith and Wiest (2011) document. The power of networks, Karotzogianni and Robinson tell us in the book’s conclusion, is found in the incapacity of U.S. foreign policy to address network resistance. This reasonably coherent articulation of the book’s position and intent is not argued prior, with the exception of a brief mention in the introduction. By the time this argument is made, unfortunately, it has been lost in a maze of high conceptualization, scarce theoretical linkage, and questionable empirical detail. 295 Journal of World-Systems Research References Wallerstein, Immanuel. 1991. Unthinking Social Science: The Limits of Nineteenth-Century Paradigms. Cambridge: Polity Press. Smith, Jackie and Dawn Wiest. 2011. Social Movements in the World System: The Politics of Crisis and Transformation. New York: Russell Sage Foundation. Jon Shefner, Department of Sociology, University of Tennessee jshefner@utk.edu http://web.utk.edu/~utsocdep/faculty/shefner.htm Starr, Amory, Luis Fernandez and Christian Scholl. 2011. Shutting Down the Streets: Political Violence and Social Control in the Global Era. New York: New York University Press. 216 pages, ISBN 978-0814741009 Paper ($23.00); 978-0814740996 Cloth ($67.84) In 2011, ‘The Protester’ was named Time Magazine’s “Person of the Year.” Protests across the Middle East, dubbed the ‘Arab Spring,’ had led to the downfalls of governments in Tunisia, Egypt, and Libya. In the case of Libya, the government fell as a result of open warfare. Governments in Syria and Yemen, amongst other Arab states, are still being openly confronted by the populace. Syria is currently in the grips of what can only be described as a civil war. Also in 2011, protest movements emerged throughout North America, Western Europe, and Russia, in response to the perceived collusion of corporate and state interests at the expense of the citizenry. While each of these movements, from Tunisia to Toronto, has been motivated by very different factors, there is a common thread running throughout: namely, the shared sentiment that the existing ordering of things has become intolerable. It is against this backdrop that Shutting Down the Streets: Political Violence and Social Control in the Global Era was published. Shutting Down the Streets is Amory Starr, Luis Fernandez, and Christian Scholl’s thorough and insightful analysis of the state control of social movements, specifically protest movements. They choose as their primary focus the predominantly North American and European ‘alter-globalization’ movements and the means through which various state actors attempt to control, and in many cases suppress them. While they certainly describe in great detail the ways in which these state actors physically control protests, they are also keen to point out that there is a certain theatrical aspect to these acts of control and suppression that have repercussions which extend far beyond the immediate interactions between protester and policeman. In other words, the acts of control serve as warnings to would-be protesters, and lead to a certain amount of self-policing amongst the general populace. This is, perhaps, their most profound point, and what I take to be one of the central theses of this work. Starr, Fernandez, and Christian provide an insightful analysis of this point through the lens of the work of theorists such as Gilles Delueze, Félix Guattari, and Michel Foucault, to name a few. Some of the key concepts discussed in Shutting Down the Streets are 1) the spatial dynamics of social control; 2) the political economy of social control and dissent; 3) a taxonomy of political violence; and, 4) how to resist social control of legitimate behavior. In their discussion of the spatial/geographical aspects of social control, Starr, Fernandez, and Christian go over everything from the choice of summit venue to the immediate ways in which policing mailto:jshefner@utk.edu http://web.utk.edu/~utsocdep/faculty/shefner.htm Book Reviews 296 forces will channel the physical movements of protest demonstrations. In the chapter on the political economy of social control, Starr, Fernandez, and Christian outline the monetary costs of social control and ensuing tension with regard to who is responsible for footing the bill. In the chapter discussing the taxonomy of political violence, Starr, Fernandez, and Christian discuss what they take to be “a series of concepts that capture the dynamic effects of social control on dissent” (91). In other words, it is a catalogue and analysis of the consequences of the state control of social dissent. The chapter on the resistance of social control examines the methods through which activists defend themselves from the political violence of social control. The book opens with the description of a security wall built in East Germany to protect a three day G8 summit. They describe its physical composition (“metal fencing with concrete foundations . . . designed to cradle a curlicue of razor and barbed wire”), its cost (“1 million euros per kilometer”), and its purpose (“to keep out terrorists” and protesters) (1). They write that “the fence imposed an exclusionary geography . . . on a purportedly democratic nation and landscape” (1). With this imagery, they describe what they take to be a prominent symbol of the state control of dissent. An enormous metal and concrete wall, built to exclude the masses from a conversation of sweeping implications held by global elites. However, it is not just the wall which is significant. Once the meeting (and protest) commences, images of violent engagements between police and protesters circulate throughout the global media. This, for Starr, Fernandez, and Scholl, is where the real social control takes place: in the violent imagery. Images of militarized police clashing with protesters quell any idea of protesting in all but the most dedicated. The wall surrounding the summit ends up casting a shadow far beyond the physical protest itself. Another important issue that Starr, Fernandez, and Scholl bring up in this book is the effect that social control has on the self-perception of the protester/activist. They write that “a powerful indirect effect of protest policing is the marginalization of political activists” (94). By having their behavior in effect criminalized, protesters get pushed out of mainstream discourse. Their behavior comes to be seen not as “crucial to their society’s well-being but . . . instead [as] incomprehensible, bizarre, and unsafe” (94). This is a message, according to Starr, Fernandez, and Scholl, that comes to be internalized by protesters and (perhaps more importantly) would-be protesters. When protesters are subjected to constant surveillance and other policing tactics (including the use of highly militarized riot police), the very act of protest itself becomes criminalized. It becomes criminalized not only in the public space, but also within the psyche of the protester her/himself. S/he comes to see her/his own behavior as criminal. Starr, Fernandez, and Scholl provide an exceptional analysis of the methods, monetary costs, effects, and responses to social control. This analysis is more or less strictly in the context of ‘alter-globalization’ protests of G (insert number here) summits and state responses. Numerous references are made to notable protests of the late 1990’s and early-mid 2000’s (such as the Seattle WTO protest of 1999). This is very fortunate, as it allows us to view many of the protest movements taking place today across North America and Europe through a historical lens. The protest movements playing out in the Middle East, on the other hand, may require a somewhat different analytical toolkit as they are subject to much higher levels of explicit violence and repression. Perhaps we can look forward to an analysis of these protests by Starr, Fernandez, and Scholl sometime in the near future. Countries that claim to value human rights, on the other hand, have had to resort to subtler techniques to attempt to suppress protest movements within their borders. That their techniques have not resulted in thousands of deaths (like nations such as Syria and Libya) does 297 Journal of World-Systems Research not negate Starr, Fernandez, and Christian’s claim: that these techniques are still violations of basic human rights. Any action taken which prevents a person from effectively voicing his/her concerns in an open forum is a violation of his/her basic human rights as they are understood by nearly every liberal democratic nation on the planet. The fact that actions such as these do, in fact, take place fairly regularly in liberal democracies smacks of hypocrisy. These states, which were in many cases founded through protest of the monarchical and authoritarian systems that predated them, now deny those with grievances to air the opportunity to do so effectively. Any protest that is more than a mere show at protest is seen as dangerous; yet the stymying of actual effective protest seems to come into conflict with the basic ideals of a liberal democracy. It may very well be the case that the liberal democratic nations around the world have forgotten their roots. Nicholas Miano, Department of Sociology, North Carolina State University namiano@ncsu.edu mailto:namiano@ncsu.edu Volume18Issue2Reviews