http://www.hnn.us/articles/132571.html

Is Malcom Gladwell Right That Social Media is Useless for Change?
By Jeremy Brecher and Brendan Smith

Jeremy Brecher and Brendan Smith helped found Global Labor 
Strategies and the Labor Network for Sustainability. They are also 
co-authors of "Globalization from Below" and "In the Name of 
Democracy." Brecher is the author of more than a dozen books on 
labor and social history and has received five regional Emmy 
awards for documentary films. Smith, former staff on the US House 
Banking Committee for Congressman Bernie Sanders, now works as an 
oysterman and advocacy journalist.

An article called “Small Change:  Why the revolution will not be 
tweeted” by Malcolm Gladwell in the October 4, 2010 New Yorker 
poses an important question:  What, if anything, is the potential 
contribution of web-based "social networking" to social movements 
and social change?  The article’s answer, drawing primarily on an 
account of the civil rights movement, is that social movements 
that are strong enough to impose change on powerful social forces 
require both strong ties among participants and hierarchical 
organizations—the opposite of the weak ties and unstructured 
equality provided by social networking websites.

Gladwell deserves credit for kicking off a discussion of this 
question, but that discussion needs to go far beyond the answers 
he provides, both in conceptual clarity and in historical 
perspective.  This is a modest contribution to that discussion.

For starters, a bit of conceptual clarification.  Social 
networking websites are not a form of organization at all; they 
are a means of communication.  Comparing Twitter to the NAACP is 
like comparing a telephone to a PTA; they are not the same kind of 
thing, they don’t perform the same kind of functions, and 
therefore their effectiveness or otherwise simply can’t be compared.

There are other category problems as well.  “Small Change” 
counterposes "networks" and "hierarchies."  It conflates "strong 
ties" with “hierarchical” organizations.  It denies that strong 
ties can occur as part of networks. These three conceptual 
presuppositions, which underlie the article’s concrete historical 
analysis, deserve some serious reconsideration.

Economists and social scientists have traditionally divided 
organizations into "markets" and "hierarchies."  Both coordinate 
multiple players, but in different ways.  Markets are based on 
decentralized exchanges that lead to coordination by "feedback" 
from past transactions.  (People raise or lower their prices based 
on how much demand there has been for what they are selling, 
leading in theory to the production of the right amount of 
different kinds of stuff.)  Hierarchies—for example armies and 
corporations—are based on a centralized control structure that 
plans coordinated activity and then commands subordinates to 
implement their assigned pieces of it.

More recently, some interpreters have pointed out that there is a 
third form, which they have dubbed "networks."  Networks 
coordinate by means of the sharing of information and voluntary 
mutual adjustment among participants.  They are different from 
markets because their planning is proactive and based on knowledge 
of other participants’ intentions and capabilities, rather than on 
feedback from past transactions.  They are different from 
hierarchies because their decision-making is decentralized and 
voluntary rather than centralized and authoritative.

How do the historical experiences of the civil rights movement 
analyzed in “Small Change” look in the light of such a clarified 
set of categories?  There has been a vast amount of historical 
research on the history of the civil rights movement over the past 
few years.  Two points stand out.  First, the visible actions like 
marches, sit-ins, and bus boycotts rested on a deep foundation of 
culture, social linkages, and accumulated experience of struggle 
in black communities in the South.  These connections, stretching 
over generations and diverse spheres of life, were the mulch from 
which the civil rights movement emerged—or, perhaps more aptly, 
became visible to others on the outside.

These linkages can be appropriately described as local community 
networks—means of coordinating action based in information sharing 
rather than on either on a market or a command hierarchy.

Far from being able to command the action of these local networks, 
national civil rights leaders and organizations were largely 
dependent on them.  In general, local leaders made the decision of 
whether, for example, to bring Martin Luther King, Jr. and the 
Southern Christian Leadership Council (SCLC) into town, and they 
were generally able to veto strategic decisions they did not agree 
with.  They used the national leadership and organizations for 
their own purposes at least as much as the other way around.  This 
picture represents anything but a hierarchy in which national 
leaders and organizations (or even local ones) were able to 
command participation the way it is done in an army, a 
corporation, or a similar "hierarchical organization."

Examining the Greensboro, NC lunch counter sit-in that touched off 
the sit-down wave of 1960, “Small Change” takes the personal 
"strong ties" among the initial Greensboro sit-downers as the key 
to their participation.  Two were roommates and all had gone to 
the same high school, smuggled beer into their dorm room, 
remembered the murder of Emmett Till, the Montgomery bus boycott, 
and Little Rock.  They discussed the idea of a Woolworth sit-in 
for a month.  They were a "product" of the NAACP Youth Council 
(although “Small Change” doesn't even mention whether that 
organization played a role in the sit-in, let alone organized it.) 
  They had close ties with the head of the local NAACP chapter. 
They had been briefed on previous sit-ins and attended  "movement 
meetings in activist churches."

What social relations could be less hierarchical than this 
description?  What could better fit the image of the dense social 
networks of a community in struggle?  Would the results have been 
the same or better had an official of a civil rights organization 
come into town and tried to command those four students to go to 
Woolworth's and sit in?

“Small Change” similarly argues that such "strong ties" made the 
difference between volunteers who did and did not stay with the 
Mississippi Freedom Summer.  The volunteers who stayed with 
Mississippi Freedom Summer "were far more likely than dropouts to 
have "close friends who were also going to Mississippi."

Such personal connections are undoubtedly important—but they are 
hardly the same thing as a hierarchy.  The view that such strong 
ties contribute to the emergence of deep commitment is surely not 
the same as the claim that hierarchy is necessary to produce such 
commitment.

“Small Change” goes on to describe pre-Greensboro sit-ins that 
were formally organized by civil rights organizations and 
maintains that this argues against a “network” interpretation of 
the sit-down movement.  But it doesn’t raise the question of why 
these more formally organized sit-downs didn't spread and become a 
movement in the way that the Greensboro sit-in—initiated by four 
high school freshmen who apparently were not even members of any 
organization at the time—did.

“Small Change” describes the civil rights movement as "like a 
military campaign" that was "mounted with precision and 
discipline."  Anybody who participated or has reviewed recent 
research on its history will likely find this description 
unfamiliar to say the least.  Some of the SNCC kids from the 
Albany, Georgia campaign were even heard to say (perhaps 
over-deprecating their own strategic acumen):  We had no idea what 
we were doing; we just kept jumping around until we landed on 
someone's toes and they hollered and that's how we found out who 
was really opposing us.

“Small Change” points out that "The NAACP was a centralized 
organization."  True enough.  But the civil rights movement of the 
1950s and 1960s came about explicitly as a break with the policies 
and domination of the NAACP, an attempt to break out from its 
hegemony.  And the NAACP had a very ambiguous relationship, to say 
the least, to the direct action civil rights movement.

In the SCLC "Martin Luther King, Jr., was the unquestioned 
authority."  Really?  Nobody challenged the fact that he was the 
leader, but the massively researched biographies of King show that 
he was being challenged all the time on strategy and policy both 
by his lieutenants and by the local leadership of the movements he 
was brought in to "lead."  Michael Honey’s magnificent book Going 
Down Jericho Road: The Memphis Strike, Martin Luther King’s Last 
Campaign makes clear just how much authority King exercised over 
local leaders and other “followers” (authority:  none; influence: 
  even that was pretty marginal a lot of the time).

According to “Small Change,” the “black church” was a hierarchical 
organization in which the minister "usually exercised ultimate 
authority over the congregation.  But there were scores of 
different black churches in each city.  In any one, the minister 
might be able to exercise authority (though if parishioners didn't 
like what the minster did they could and did switch to other 
churches).  But the idea that these churches collectively 
represented a unity with a single authority is doubtful. 
Certainly it does not gibe well with historical research 
portraying the difficulties Martin Luther King, Jr. had holding 
together the different Montgomery churches during the bus boycott. 
  Crucially, did black ministers have enough authority to order 
their parishioners to go to jail?  Or did the commitment of 
movement participants come from something other than a command 
hierarchy?

The idea that the civil rights movement as a whole expressed some 
kind of unity of command is also dubious.  The SCLC was formed 
because King was unable to win the black Baptist denominations to 
support his vision.  SNCC kids derisively referred to Dr. King as 
"de Laud."  The counter-examples could go on and on.

The capabilities “Small Change” attributes to hierarchies 
sometimes reach the level of the awesome.  It maintains, for 
example that networks are unlike hierarchies in that they are 
"prone to conflict and error."  Hierarchies are not "prone to 
conflict and error?"

“Small Change” points out that digital communication would have 
been of no use in Montgomery, Alabama, "a town where 98 per cent 
of the black community could be reached every Sunday morning at 
church."  An interesting point.  But does that mean that committed 
social activism is simply impossible among people who do not have 
that kind of pre-existing face-to-face connection?  If so, there 
must be no examples in which powerful, committed social movements 
have developed among people who don’t see each other every weekend 
in church.

This brings us back to the role of social media.  Gladwell is 
surely right when he says social media "are not a natural enemy of 
the status quo."  But that is only the beginning of the 
discussion.  The pertinent question is whether social media can 
contribute to the process of forming social movements and 
effective social action, not whether social media can substitute 
for that process.  (A telephone system is not a PTA, but it can 
sure as heck be useful for getting a few hundred people out to 
confront the school board or vote in the school board election.)

The evidence here is pretty clear.  Social networking websites can 
play and are playing an important role in finding and connecting 
people who are beginning to think and feel similar things.  They 
can help participants deepen their understanding and form common 
perspectives.  They can help inform those who use them of possible 
courses of action.

This doesn't in itself substitute for many of the other things 
movements need, and need to do.  It does not in itself create the 
kinds of "strong ties" that help give a movement strength, 
although it may help people find others with whom they want to 
develop strong ties.  (Compare computer-initiated dating, which in 
itself only connects potential partners but in fact has connected 
many people who thereupon partnered and married.)

Beyond group formation is the question of power.  As Gladwell 
indicates, ten thousand people sending each other tweets doth not 
a revolution make, or even major social change.  Whatever else, 
significant social change requires, as Gandhi put it, 
“noncooperation” with the status quo and a "matching of forces" 
with those who would maintain it.  Social networking cannot in 
itself provide either of these.  But it can be a powerful tool for 
making such expressions of power possible.

This is not the first time that the relation between social 
movements and new forms of communication has been considered.  A 
once-influential study published in 1847 observed that workers 
were beginning to form “combinations”; to “club together in order 
to keep up the rate of wages”; and to found “permanent 
associations” to make provision beforehand for occasional revolts. 
  The consequence was an “expanding union of the workers.”

     This union is helped on by the improved means of 
communication that are created by Modern Industry, and that place 
the workers of different localities in contact with one another. 
It was just this contact that was needed to centralize the 
numerous local struggles, all of the same character, into one 
national struggle between classes.

Maybe the role of telegraph and newspapers a century and 
two-thirds ago is irrelevant to the role of social networking 
media today.  But maybe not.
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