Authors Meet Critics

Massimo Mazzotti, “Reactionary Mathematics: A Genealogy of Purity”

Recorded on October 17, 2023, this video features an “Authors Meet Critics” panel on the book Reactionary Mathematics: A Genealogy of Purity, by Massimo Mazzotti, Professor in the UC Berkeley Department of History and the Thomas M. Siebel Presidential Chair in the History of Science.

Professor Mazzotti was joined in conversation by Matthew L. Jones, the Smith Family Professor of History at Princeton University, and David Bates, Professor of Rhetoric at UC Berkeley. Thomas Laqueur, the Helen Fawcett Distinguished Professor Emeritus at UC Berkeley, moderated.

This event was co-sponsored by the Center for Science, Technology, Medicine, & Society and the UC Berkeley Department of History. The Social Science Matrix “Authors Meet Critics” book series features lively discussions about recently published books authored by social scientists at UC Berkeley. For each event, the author discusses the key arguments of their book with fellow scholars.

About the Book

A forgotten episode of mathematical resistance reveals the rise of modern mathematics and its cornerstone, mathematical purity, as political phenomena. The nineteenth century opened with a major shift in European mathematics, and in the Kingdom of Naples, this occurred earlier than elsewhere. Between 1790 and 1830 its leading scientific institutions rejected as untrustworthy the “very modern mathematics” of French analysis and in its place consolidated, legitimated, and put to work a different mathematical culture. The Neapolitan mathematical resistance was a complete reorientation of mathematical practice. Over the unrestricted manipulation and application of algebraic algorithms, Neapolitan mathematicians called for a return to Greek-style geometry and the preeminence of pure mathematics.

For all their apparent backwardness, Massimo Mazzotti explains, they were arguing for what would become crucial features of modern mathematics: its voluntary restriction through a new kind of rigor and discipline, and the complete disconnection of mathematical truth from the empirical world—in other words, its purity. The Neapolitans, Mazzotti argues, were reacting to the widespread use of mathematical analysis in social and political arguments: theirs was a reactionary mathematics that aimed to technically refute the revolutionary mathematics of the Jacobins. During the Restoration, the expert groups in the service of the modern administrative state reaffirmed the role of pure mathematics as the foundation of a newly rigorous mathematics, which was now conceived as a neutral tool for modernization. What Mazzotti’s penetrating history shows us in vivid detail is that producing mathematical knowledge was equally about producing certain forms of social, political, and economic order.

Listen to the panel as a podcast below.



Julia Sizek: Hello, everyone. Welcome. My name is Julia Sizek. And I am a postdoctoral scholar here at Social Science Matrix. Today, as you all know, we are here as part of our Author Meets Critics series in which we discuss exciting new works by faculty in the Social Sciences Division.

Our book today is Reactionary Mathematics– A Genealogy of Purity by Massimo Mazzotti. As promised by the title, the book is a look into the history of mathematics and more specifically the late 18th and early 19th century in the Neapolitan resistance to French styles of mathematical practice. This revolution in mathematics, Mazzotti argues, should be examined alongside the political movements at the time.

A pure mathematics, he suggests, is a project of a certain kind of political, social, and economic order. This wide-ranging book is of interest to many of you here. And perhaps you arrived thanks to the efforts of our co-sponsors for this event, the Center for Science, Technology, , Medicine, and Society and the History Department. So thanks to them.

Before we begin, I’m just going to discuss a couple of our upcoming events that we have coming at Matrix. So on October 31, Halloween, very spooky, we have the California Spotlight From Boom to Doom in San Francisco about the so-called doom loop, which I assure you is a very terrifying topic. On November 14, Dylan Penningroth will be presenting his book Before the Movement– The Hidden History of Black Civil Rights.

On November 28, Sharad Chari will be presenting his short book Gramsci at Sea. And then finally, for the purposes of this, we will be having a event featuring the work of graduate students called New Directions in Gender and Sexuality toward the end of the semester. So to register for all of these events, you just go to our website, which is

And so just so you know, the way that this event will proceed is first, we will have our moderator introduce everyone. And then we will proceed to have some discussion up here. And then we’ll open it up to Q&A around the room.

So I will be introducing our lovely moderator Tom Laqueur. Laqueur is the Helen Fawcett distinguished professor emeritus– wow, that’s a mouthful– at the University of California Berkeley. His work has been focused on the history of popular religion and literacy on the history of the body, alive and dead, and on the history of death and memory.

He writes regularly for the London Review of Books and The Threepenny Review among other journals and is a founding editor of Representations. Laqueur is a member of both the American Philosophical Society and the American Academy of Arts and Sciences. His most recent book is The Work of the Dead– A Cultural History of Mortal Remains. And he’s currently working on a book called The Dog’s Gaze in Western Art to be published very soon. Without further ado, I’ll turn it over to Tom.

Thomas Laqueur: Thank you. So we have a remarkable panel today to discuss this book, remarkable in the sense of the distinction of the panelists, but also that they actually know something about this subject, which is not always the case. So just to the left is David Bates, Professor of Rhetoric at Berkeley, but for many years very active in the Center for New Media and now in the Center for Science, Technology, Medicine, and Society.

He’s an enlightenment scholar. Has a book called Enlightenment Aberrations– Error and Revolution in France and States of War– Enlightenment Origins of Politics. He’s now working on a book on artificial history of natural intelligence.

And one further left is our visitor from afar, Matthew Jones. He’s the Smith Family Professor of History at Princeton. He focuses on the history of information technologies and artificial intelligence as well as the history of science and technology in early modern Europe. But actually, now, he’s not working in early modern Europe. He’s working on postmodern America, a history of surveillance. since 9/11.

But relevant to what we’re talking about today is how data happened, a history from the age of reason to the age of algorithms. And before that, a book on the history of science or generally The Good Life from the Scientific Revolution– Descartes, Pascal, Leibnitz, and the Cultivation of Virtue. And other books and works, but in any case also in this general field.

Massimo Mazzotti, our colleague and the main event, I want to introduce him actually by reading from the review of Nature. It’s a good place for– a rare place for a historian to have a– so here’s what Nature says. “There are some books that hook you– that hook you straight from the title. Reactionary Mathematics by Massimo Mazzotti is one of them. What’s the title even mean? It feels as a bizarre juxtaposition of two seemingly unrelated terms like literary biology or electrical jurisprudence.”

So then it goes on to say that, “Many people have perceived mathematics as separate words the most independent of these disciplines from the social science but not Mazzotti. Mazzotti’s first merit is to break this pattern and take us to a different sphere where mathematics, science, culture, art and society, and history converge, revealing new interpretive possibilities.”

“Indeed,” the review concludes, “the complex relationship between tradition and modernization is the pulsing heart of this engaging book besides a valuable historical analysis. Reactionary Mathematics offers an interesting and useful synthesis,” I had to correct his grammar, “useful synthetic vision,” he’s Italian, so you know. “to help us understand in these times of rapid and convulsive transformations, the mathematics of the present, and most importantly, the reason for the mathematics to come.

So what else can I say, except that Massimo is the Thomas Siebel Chair in the History of Science in our department. And his earlier book is also in some sense about the cultural history of mathematics, The World of Maria Gaetana Agnesi, Mathematician of God. So Massimo will speak. We’ll have both respondents. Matthew will respond. And then I’ll call on everyone for questions.

Massimo Mazzotti: Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Tom. [INAUDIBLE] Thank you, Tom. So yeah, I think it’s probably useful if I don’t speak too much. And we have a conversation. So maybe I just give you some coordinates just to give a sense of where we are. Because one problem here is that it’s a fairly obscure story in the history of mathematics. So it’s pretty– I mean, darkness when it comes to my colleagues mostly when I talk to them about this.

So at the center of the book, there is a short chapter in which I talk about the mathematical controversy, which was not very relevant. I mean, actually, quite marginal to the overall history of mathematics in Europe in the 18th, 19th century. And that is actually the core of the story. But somehow, I didn’t know exactly what to put it. Because I really want to tell about things that have to do with that controversy.

So the book is mostly about the meaning of that controversy. And then at the center of the book– then I decided, OK, I put it at the center. It’s really at the center of the story. I’ll put it physically at the center as well.

So the story is relatively simple. It’s like, the controversy is about two groups at the margins of enlightened Europe, the Kingdom of Naples, which is well known but is well known for the Vesuvius, for some of the natural [INAUDIBLE]. So artistic natural historical remains. Not really a powerhouse in mathematics. That’s Paris. Those are some other places in Europe that are really– that kind of place.

But there is this controversy that goes on from roughly the 1790s to the 1830s, age of Revolution. And this has to do with what is the best way to solve one version of it. A simple version of it is what is the best way to solve a geometrical problem. Should we be using all kinds of algebraic techniques, even though they don’t really reflect the initial geometrical problem?

But it’s like, we turn the geometrical problem into analytical Cartesian geometry. But even more than that, you can actually use calculus and other things so that you really move distant from the original geometrical problem. You operate on those algebraic formulas. You get numbers. Those numbers, you interpret them as giving you the answer to the geometrical problem.

So you go back. And, OK, you solve the problem. Or should we stick with the geometrical– with geometry? And should we actually only reason in geometrical terms– which means like Euclidean geometry.

Obviously, we’re talking about fairly sophisticated versions of it. But still, should we actually be in the world of seeing geometrical figures either physically or without imagination or in the world of what they would call blind calculations? Because you don’t really see anything when you’re crunching numbers. You’re just crunching numbers.

So at the core is this kind of debate. And what is– I mean, this is just one of the many versions of algebra versus geometry, which is a long-lasting story in the history of mathematics. But at that moment, at that juncture of European history, it seems to me that it takes a particular significance. Also, because there is an unusual emotional investment into this debate, that it doesn’t immediately– it’s not immediately justified by the actual content.

And you find the supporters of the geometrical approach, the synthetic approach, synthetic geometry, meaning, essentially, Euclidean geometry, arguing that if you actually use the algebraic methods, you are perverting the mind of your students. Your mind is perverted. The results are going to be catastrophic for mathematics, which will be degraded, and for society at large.

Because you’re introducing a false certainty. You’re introducing false mathematical reasonings that then are used by people who, for example, are doing political economy or other things with your mathematical tools. And they trust you because as a mathematician, you have endorsed them. You have legitimated them.

So there is a question of what is the legitimated set of tools that one should be using. And this is invested immediately in epistemological moral terms and terms that often evoke a social crisis. This is guiding us into some kind of absolutely wrong direction.

So the trajectory of the controversy is really a kind of– as many controversies, it just disappears into insignificance at some point. It’s not relevant then in the ’30s. But between the ’90s and the ’20s, really, mathematical and scientific life– because this invest everyone who is using mathematics. So from the engineers to cartographers, anyone who’s actually a scientist at that point of natural philosopher in Naples is really one of the most heated and apparently significant controversies.

So what they do in the other chapters is to give you a sense– I zoom into the controversy from the point of view of the analytics, let’s call it that way, those who are arguing for the value of algebraic reasoning and the power of algebraic reasoning so that we see the story from their side. The story from their side is a story of the trust in universal analytic reason, let’s call it that way, that is essentially reflects the deep structure of nature. And it also expresses the deep structure of our own mind. The two things are isomorphic.

And you might think of French mathematics in the late 18th century, the likes of Condorcet and others are really thinking along those lines. I mean, this is not just a mathematical technique like others. This is what they call analysis, which is now what we call analysis today is a set of techniques that have to do with algebra, calculus. But it’s not coherent theory by any means.

But what do you do when you’re using those techniques, you’re actually using something that is deeply ingrained in the human mind and in nature. And so the legitimation of those techniques is the world somehow. It doesn’t need to be grounded into something else. I mean, that’s not a problem that they are thinking about.

Historically, the way in which I see this coming together into the controversy is that there is a phase in which these kind of arguments are used by reformists in late 18th century, Naples to argue for essentially criticizing established institutions, social institutions, and often suggesting some transformation. So it’s a kind of a reformist push based on mathematical arguments.

So there are better ways of, for example, organizing a certain productive process. The rules of algebra are telling us– are telling us what these ways are. So they’re guiding us. They can guide us rationally. Things get a bit more extreme in the ’90s when, essentially, after the Bastille and the 1789, the government, the king and the court turn actually dramatically on a kind of anti-French and conservative side.

And at that point, any argument that might sound like universal reason applied to the transformation of society is not really very welcome anymore. And, in fact, people who have been marginal in the scientific world up to that point, an interesting group of mystically inclined mathematicians who were defending some essentially invented tradition of Euclidean geometry become central to scientific life in the Kingdom of Naples. They become professors at universities.

I mean, really they occupy all the possible spaces in that world. So in the term of three years, you see a completely different scientific world in which now, the essentially scientific life is controlled by those who believe that Euclidean geometry should be the only basis of any mathematical procedure.

So just to cut it short in the relevance of this in terms of why do they care so much, well, if you argue that there is an unrestricted possibility of applying algebra and calculus to reform the economy, political life, creating an electoral system the way that Condorcet does, for example, trade, the landscape– so civil engineering. Civil engineers are legitimated by their own use of analysis in reshaping, for example, designing new roads; unifying the system, standardizing weights and measures. So that is what is being legitimated by the kind of universal rationality. Let’s say that the idea of a analytic reason that goes beyond any contingent expression of technical and mathematical knowledge.

On the other hand, the move to Euclidean geometry as the only legitimate foundation is a way of restricting the use of mathematics in a particular way so that you– mathematics is still core in the university curriculum the way that it was. It was a significant discipline. But now, it’s the movement of techniques from mathematics to other fields that is much more complicated and not legitimated. Because geometry– I mean, as Galileo realized, you can do only so much in terms of quantifying reality and transforming reality through quantification with Euclidean geometry.

So this was the– the Neapolitan story is the story of essentially restricting the possibility of using certain algebraic techniques. Because these algebraic techniques had been used by the Jacobins, who, essentially, in 1799 are able to seize power just for five months and set up a Jacobin Republic. And if you look at how they organize the republic, is kind of an analytic republic.

So they have a way of thinking that is pretty much the way of thinking of the analytical mathematician. And, in fact, it’s interesting that the president of the republic and one of his main assistants, first thing they do, they publish a textbook of mathematics. Because they say, well, it is this the way we need to think about the world.

Because if you want to transform the world, you need to analyze it, which essentially means to break it down to its elementary components– this is one of the old meanings of analysis is this– and then combining these components– so the combinatorial element of analysis– in order to construct something new based on those components. And how do you construct something new? Following the universal rules of algebra, which somehow is giving us– is guiding us.

So once the Jacobins have essentially built up their own discourse around– I mean, egalitarianism, anticlericalism, redistribution of wealth analysis, I mean, that’s what you find in Jacobin texts. At that point, analysis– I mean, it’s like, you cannot go back to analysis without being associated with the Jacobin– with Jacobin politics.

And so the reactionary mathematics of the title is literally the reaction to that moment. It’s literally a moving mathematics away from a conscious self-reflective way of using mathematics as a transformative tool for redistributing agency, essentially, across society, because that is at the bottom. That’s what they were doing– redistributing political agency across society in a way that would empower subaltern groups that had never been empowered.

The reaction is to make that a logical impossibility, a mathematical impossibility. And you make that by saying that that mathematics is not reliable. Obviously, we’re not just talking about Euclidean geometry. And the example I can give is that this is actually a much bigger story than Naples.

And if after having– the Neapolitan story is instructive because it’s so extreme, that you see everything is in your face. The political value of mathematics is there. They talk about it. They write about it. Whereas if you look at Paris, for example, the main place at the time where Augustin Cauchy is revolutionizing mathematics, as many historians have said at this point.

And what is he doing? It’s not going back to geometry. That’s a bit of a bizarre idea that could only happen in a marginal place is restructuring algebraic and essentially calculus, algebraic techniques and calculus. The term is rigorization, the rigorization of calculus. You may have heard that. This is something that happens in the first half of the 19th century.

And essentially, the outcome is pretty much modern mathematics, as we know it. And this rigorization of calculus is a way of restricting the use of calculus. It’s a way of saying, well, you need to be really precise enough of this voluntaristic, enthusiastic 18th century d’Alembert-like use of mathematics.

Tell me exactly what you’re doing. And tell me exactly what are the limits. There are many new things that comes up around this time, which are all designed to specify under which conditions certain formulas can be used and for which quantities of the values that are part of the formula. Because you cannot just give for granted that you can use any formulas, apply to any field, and without restrictions.

So if you read that after having come across the Neapolitan story, you see that what he’s doing is the same thing that this bizarre Neapolitan mystic mathematicians were doing in a more bizarre way, I would say. But it’s the same thing. It’s restricting the applicability of mathematics, particularly to issues that have to do with politics and theology and metaphysics. He’s arguing that there are many kinds of truths, that not everything is reducible at the same level of– at the same epistemological level, and that the mathematicians, they talk about the world of pure mathematics.

That’s the purity of the title. Pure mathematics at this point is becoming the foundation of mathematics. And why do we need the foundation of mathematics? Well, because if mathematics is not embedded in the world anymore or in our own reason, then we really need something like a foundation for this body of knowledge.

And the foundational crisis– and we have a few of them in the history of mathematics, but this is one. And the anxiety that it provokes, the fact that people like the Neapolitans or Cauchy are really anxious about the scandal of the lack of foundation of mathematics is, in fact, the scandal of the unrestricted application of mathematics. And the fact that we need to ground it, it needs to be understood as a self-included body of knowledge that is really not the essential structure of reality, something else.

So then you have all these considerations about how come the mathematics is effective, for example, if it’s– because if you start to think of it as something completely different, detached, and somehow endowed of a purity– purity meaning is not polluted by empirical considerations, which is a very modern way of thinking about mathematics. Because if you go back in time, most people think about mixed mathematics.

Mathematics is always something in between. It’s like astronomy or music, whereas this is like a distinctively modern way of thinking of mathematics as something that is really its own world. So then it takes a lot of work to make it function. And you need to justify any use of those techniques into the real world.

So I think that’s probably more than enough. But just to give you a sense. That’s what essentially the story is about with a lot of detail.


Thomas Laqueur: So do we have an order– do we– David?

David Bates: I think I was next, I guess. It’s hard to go after the star of the show. I’ll keep this kind of short. I have lots of notes. But just picking up on your last point, I think it’s more than just that story and some details. The book is actually much more unruly than Massimo gives it credit for.

And I mean that in a positive way. But I’ll start by saying a brief anecdote. When I was a graduate student at the University of Chicago, my first semester, I took a course from the cultural historian Carl Weintraub. I don’t know if anyone reads him anymore.

And for some reason, I got tagged as the postmodern kind of Yahoo of the class, constructivist, relativist, and basically willing to undermine all these kinds of values. But there was one point in the class when I guess I’d read Kuhn and Feyerabend when I was an undergraduate. So these things just came kind of naturally.

But at one point, he said, but what about mathematics? And he kind of stopped me in my tracks because I couldn’t really– I didn’t have anything to say about that. How do you historicize something as pure as mathematics? So that’s sort of stuck with me as I read more in history of science and history of mathematics.

But I never really read something as good as your book, to be honest, that really took that seriously to demonstrate how the most pure, logical step has to be understood, contextualized in a very rich and detailed way. So I’ll just admire and suggest that you read the introduction, which really gives a really good overview of some of the ways that mathematicians approach history, both for better or for worse.

But I think what’s really brilliant about the argument here, as Massimo’s kind of demonstrated already, is that at its heart is an idea that the very idea of the logical purity or the neutrality of mathematics has a history and that we have to do this kind of very close work to understand what’s going on in that longer history of mathematics.

So in the introduction, we get this really interesting view, which is that we don’t have mathematics so much as a mathematical culture. And that culture includes a really important– what he calls an image of reason, a kind of practice, as well as theory of reason. And this image of reason is predicated on concepts of order. And then we can slide nicely into the repercussions, which is essentially that any mathematical culture is going to have some implication on the social and political plane because concepts of order and concepts of rationality infuse what we really mean by social and political action.

So the introduction takes on that job of showing exactly what a history of– I even want to say it’s maybe not a history of mathematics, so much as a history of reason with a mathematical core. But you really do have a larger scope in the whole book. It’s not just about the specifics of the mathematicians but the image of reason and the image of order that goes along with that.

So now, I have armature for that. If I could go back in time, I’d have armature for how to demonstrate– you have this lovely line that what counts as a step in logical deduction always had to be constrained by this mathematical culture that every step in a logical deduction has to be understood in terms of its context. OK. So the book, as you described, is like an X. It has this core, which is probably the most mathematical part of the book.

It’s kind of like a textbook. It really teaches you what the difference between analytic and geometrical forms are. But it also raises these bigger questions. Basically, the synthetics are arguing, as Massimo says, that the art of inventing is not algorithmic and can never be algorithmic, whereas the algebraists were arguing that analysis could be understood as a universal form of reasoning. Those are Massimo’s phrases.

But analysis is the kind of catching point of the whole book. Because it can be celebrated as well as denigrated as mechanical and automatic. I think that’s one of the interesting threads of the book, the fact that analysis has, in some ways, an agreement on both sides that it’s mechanical character is really essential to understanding it.

So the book is an X with this sort of central core. The first part of the book follows the algebraic world, and the second part of the book is the synthetic world that I really do want to say that I think that you’re underselling the book by giving it this narrative of mathematics. Because what really happens is, like I said, it’s kind of kaleidoscopic and at times unruly. It delves into all sorts of different topics. I just realized the Library of Congress also undersells your book. It says it’s the topics are mathematics, study and teaching, Italy, Naples. Mathematics, political aspects.


When you read it, the first four chapters are actually– if Naples was a marginal space in this period, it was a pretty entertaining one. So what you have is really a political history wrapped up in a history of science, wrapped up in a history of mathematics, wrapped up in a history of administration. It’s really rich territory.

And it flows between different kinds of characters and different zones. But the intricacies of the French incursion and the reaction and then the French decade, as it’s called, is really interesting stuff. And it really follows, I would say, these mathematical cultures and even larger cultures of reason as they battle out in a number of different spheres.

So just for example, chapter 4 on The Shape of the Kingdom, it’s really like many of these great books that you’re citing that study the Enlightenment and 19th century that gets into the conceptual world behind everything from infrastructure, reform landscape and cartography, and excursus in the history of statistics in Italy and its use in political economy, the attempted transformation of the weights and measures system.

These are all well beyond just the mathematical debate that you take as the core of the book. And it’s really interesting stuff that pays off in a beautiful way with an analysis of landscape painting as well. So this is the kind of book. You could show some of those pictures in there after if you wanted to.

The last part of the book, I’ll just say, they’re not quite the heroes. But these sort of weird mystic synthetics are treated really generously, is the word I think, by Massimo. It takes seriously their concerns and I think makes the argument that I’ve also made a similar argument with respect to conservative thinking, that there’s no such thing as a going back, that these conservatives are really reactionary, and that they’re forging new models of politics, of science or reason. And you take that seriously.

So I really appreciated the last four chapters. Again, quite kaleidoscopic. We have discussions of Neo-Catholicism, of Demeestere and Bonald on questions concerning history and sovereignty. We have a number of fascinating mathematical tales all kind of interwoven.

And I think it really plays out beautifully the last half of the book. So again, I recommend this book for anyone interested in thinking about the role of science in policy, politics, but more, I would say, at the heart, this concept of a kind of culture of reason, a culture of order, how social political questions just are endemic to that space. You show that over and over again really, really brilliantly. So I’ll end with just a couple of questions.

In the last part of the book, the last chapter, you repeat this claim, which is to say that mathematics and especially the question of mathematical purity kind of occupies this essentially political space. And one thing that struck me just thinking about the book having read it, is to what degree this was an opportune moment to show, is this just the case of the always political aspect of mathematical practice or is this a special moment in the history of mathematics, and science, and politics that opened up a particularly rich opportunity to bring together Jacobin politics, or reactionary politics, or Catholic politics reform movements and so on?

To what degree do you take that any mathematical kind of culture is inherently political? And I ask that partly because one of the implications to me in the book, and again it’s because you’re so generous with the critics of algorithmic, algebraic mathematics, is to what extent the origin of our own algorithmic culture can be found in this particular period, the victory, let’s say, of algebraic analysis.

To what extent is the book? And you sort of– you hesitate to talk about this. And maybe I’m pushing you too far. But to what extent are you preparing the ground for a call for a new reactionary mathematics? Which would not look at all like the Neapolitan one but might have some kind of interesting resonance with contemporary ideas that go outside of this idea of calculation and prediction. So I’ll end there. But thanks again for the opportunity to read. It was really, really fun.

Thomas Laqueur: Great. Thank you. Yeah. Matthew? Do you want to respond? No? No. Matthew. Right.

Matthew L. Jones: OK. Well, thank you, Massimo, for the wonderful book. And David frames this beautifully. And indeed, I think much of what I’m going to say is thinking through how the unruly dense contextualization that Massimo provides gives the book so much of its place as a lever in thinking through major questions, I think, of both historical practice, science studies, and indeed the kind of social theory, which I take to often happen here in the matrix, that it’s very much a book about STS, Science and Technology Studies, and history and tandem, and in tension, and tugging on both, particularly by the case of mathematics.

So David mentioned mathematics being the hard case. And some of you will know that David Bloor, one of the founders of the sociology of scientific knowledge in a book called knowledge and social imagery, at first, articulated the symmetry principle. And in the symmetry principle, you treat that, which we hold to be true and that which we hold to be false symmetrically for explanation.

And he said, the hard case is, of course, mathematics, and I’m going to do that. And remarkably, not very many people followed him in doing this a few, including Donald Mackenzie, and Massimo, and several other of us have been profoundly fascinated. But there’s something about mathematics being challenging that sets it to be a challenging target for social theory.

But also, I think provides it with the power to thus serve in the kind of critical ways that I think that I intimate, that I think Massimo you’re getting at. And most of my comments are going to be about what I take to be, maybe I’m reading too much, many of the implications of what this local study helps us see, how it dislodges, how it helps us see particularly, precisely a reactionary mathematics, which are the nature article.

That weirdness makes it– allows it to serve as a lever for further analysis rather than a substitute for a deplored rationalistic present. It’s a way of looking at the past, where nostalgia is the subject of the analysis rather than something we fall into. So reactionary math is a powerful tool. And many of you may have encountered the way that say Edmund Burke is often lionized in odd ways today for his organicism, his anti-imperialism, and his anti– and it’s a peculiar move that leads to a kind of nostalgia.

And you quote Mark Lilla, who says that the reaction to the French Revolution has placed a cloud over European thinking. And it seems to me much of this book uses reactionary mathematics to help us think differently through this, reactionary mathematics from the periphery. So the question I really have is about, how does your book help us see the historization of different kinds of mathematics?

Mathematics in the plural. Try to get Microsoft Word to let you write logics in the plural. It tells you it’s not something you can do. Mathematics is in the plural, so it lets you do that. And that– so it’s like literally hard wired into ours. But how is different, looking at multiple mathematics, a lever against facile narratives and teleology, say of rigor but also nostalgia of a pre-quantified society, a pre-mathematical– how do we use that without falling into them?

So I’ve already spoken too much, but I’m briefly going to talk about nostalgia and the romance of the non-quantified and nostalgia and the romance of the localized past. So what I mean by the romance of the non-quantified, it’s enormously common across a whole wide variety of historical thought, social theorizing, and I don’t know, folks epistemologies of the dangers into which we’ve been thrust by quantification, much of which I share.

But your book, by reminding us of the non-uniformity of mathematics, pushes against too facile a narrative of what it means to become mathematical or quantified, by distinguishing between the analytic and the synthetic, and then in part way through, the morphing of the analytic into the technical, the statistical, the cost accounting. It asks for us to recognize that plurality.

And then to ask what are the plurality of purifications to be explained, we haven’t really talked about this so much. But one of the things that Massimo shows beautifully is a kind of purification that happens in synthetic geometry in which metaphysics and theological truths are outside of the domain of mathematics on the one hand. And another one, in analysis in which that hubristic ambition to transform everything along egalitarian lines is tamed, and it becomes a merely technical discipline.

So your work asks us to specify what those purifications are. And both in content and in cause. And to think, therefore, differently about very big stories that we often think about in the history of science, questions of how is it that we become disinterested or bracketed from, say metaphysical concerns or political concerns? And you do have two very different stories of that.

Mathematics is independent of and beneath metaphysics, not the Kantian story but this counterrevolutionary one. And then a neutrality of a counterrevolutionary statistics. The transformation of Jacobin math into a liberal sorts of things. A transformation of it into a technical, analytical quantification as a potential master discipline.

Now, I take it here. I’m reading into the text. But you are thus have a local history that speaks to our very current concerns about quantification and its claims to mastery. And your reactionary critics is often were right about seeing– they were right that the reformation was a big part of the problem because it had the wrong vision of the social organization of who was allowed to know.

So Descartes was accused of being an enthusiast. Because like the Protestants, he thought everyone ought to be able to opine. But here’s a question I was wondering for you. In your account of analytic mathematics, you talk about it being limited into a technical– in a way. But it’s not quite the story of Koshi.

Because it’s not that it can’t be applied to all domains of society. It is the case that it’s not applied towards illegality egalitarian means. And so I feel like your story is often very symmetrical. But you do treat in more fulsome detail the counter revolutionary mathematics far more than the analytical ones.

And so is it not the case that the purified analytic mathematics is just as hubristic and revolutionary as the Jacobin one. But it’s anything but egalitarian. It is hubristic, all expansive. But the shift is less than the structures– it doesn’t ask for a shift in the structures of society so much as a limitation of egalitarian hubris. OK.

So all of this is to say that the book pushes against a romance of a non-quantified society by showing the plurality of possible quantified societies. And the second kind of nostalgia I want to talk about is the romance of the localized path. So you begin the book by reminding us of symmetries and symmetric explanation, and again to return to the original progenitors of the sociology of scientific knowledge, a kind of synchronic symmetry.

But it seems to me, and maybe I’m wrong about this. But one of the most interesting undercurrents of your book is a kind of diachronic symmetry. And you’ve show so clearly how the reactionary account is a nostalgic vision of the past, not something we ought to return to but something that is quite constituted. David underscored this as well.

And I wonder to what extent you are there for pushing against certain kinds of history, histories of technology, histories of labor, certain kinds of social history that for all of their analytical fortitude of the dangers of certain technologies often resolve into a nostalgia of a world we have lost. And that can be analytically powerful as in the Jacobin coolest book Men and Measures, which pushes us against the teleological history of the metric system.

But it can also be limiting by immersing us in a nostalgia, which is a construction of reaction. How do we do dense local history of controversy but resist the pull of those modern alternatives? So my question is that one of the goals of the book to navigate thinking of that. And then finally, just one sort of question.

Your book is everywhere thinking from the periphery. And once or twice, you mentioned texts like provincializing Europe or provincializing the Enlightenment. But I wonder if you might be a little more explicit about how thinking from the periphery enables at once– as it were, a non-nostalgic history of other pasts and other sorts of presents.

And above all, how is it that thinking through multiple mathematics helps us push against the romanticization of the past we have lost and then think differently about debates I know you’ve thought a lot about, about the current nature of quantification and dangers of rationalization, often, which gets subsumed into some sort of an analytical amorphous mass of alienation from ourselves because of the mathematical? If mathematical is plural, then that obviously can’t be uniform. So thank you very much for your book.

Tom Laqueur: Thank you. Massimo, would you like to respond briefly?

Massimo Mazzotti: Yeah, briefly. I’ll try to get some of the things. Yes. I mean– OK, let me start from this. There are these two ideal types that I use, the analytic reason and the reactionary reason. Because in a way, as it has been said, this is a book about reason and the history of reason.

I mean, mathematics is the rationalizing practices that we often use to map reason, what kind of reason is in action here. And you see that through mathematical practices. That’s at least a good place to explore, to understand what kind of reason are these people giving for granted, what the idea of reason.

So obviously, these are two ideal types. And I mean, the story is about something that happens in between. There is always like– it’s a spectrum of different position. And in fact, I think what is interesting is often what is happening in between, which goes back also to the point of the liberal and the neutrality.

Because somehow, I often talk about the extreme version of the Jacobian analytic reason and the revolutionary emancipatory use of mathematics that they make. Then there is the reactionary, extreme version that I describe as having its own mathematics and its own set of cultural formations.

But at some point, in what we call the age of restoration, what we see is that really what becomes mainstream is neither of those. The reactionary option politically is dead by the 20s. I mean, no one really thinks that there is going to be any kind of return to the pre-revolutionary world.

And the Revolutionary option is kind of survives, underground, and in many different ways, but it’s definitely not on the table. So what’s on the table is using the case of Naples, but also elsewhere, is this kind of the liberal option. And the liberal option is one that interestingly takes on some of the elements of the analytic tradition but detached it from their own revolutionary potential.

And so the creation of the technical, as a space that now is the space of the engineer, the statistician, the cartographer is essentially– Benjamin Constant is talking about the emergence of this new space in very interesting political terms. But it is also a technical transformation.

Because now, there is this space that is the space for the technical elites that work for the government, in the continental context at least, that are using this new kind of is still analysis. So on the surface, there is a lot of continuity. It’s not that– and that’s a tricky thing about mathematics, right.

A lot of the techniques are the same. But now, the meaning of those techniques and the scope of those techniques is different. So to me, that’s one of the most interesting– it was one of the most interesting things that I came up with. To see that that’s also where the genealogy of our own world can be traced.

Because the rest seems really quite distant in many ways and eccentric. But if you look at that moment of the creation of this space, the technical space as a neutral space. Because that’s also– that’s a new thing. Jacobins would never think that the analytic tools they use are neutral.

They know they’re not. And that’s why they value them. They are programmatically impure mathematical tools. On the opposite, we have the kind of reactionary take. And what you have in this middle ground is a neutral technocratic often takes this kind of technocratic aspect is the courts of the civil engineers.

On the French example, you have this kind of courts all over continental Europe. The knowledge that they use is highly considered– is a powerful kind of knowledge, is a neutral knowledge, is powerful because it’s neutral because it doesn’t side with anyone politically. That’s why the engineers are powerful.

Because what they say is that’s the voice of science. That is the result of a neutral calculation. The fact that we need to build a road this way rather than that way, that’s what engineers are saying. So one of the ways in which I can see connections with the reflection that we often make about the present moment is in a way is it is a story of the giving for granted, the neutrality of certain technical tools.

And that is just something that emerges at a very specific moment. Because neither the revolutionaries nor the conservatives think that their mathematical tools are neutral. The conservative– the reactionaries are very aware that the way they do mathematics has an impact on the rest of society.

So they willingly restrict themselves to a certain kind of use of mathematical tools. So at that moment, let’s say the ’90s, in the midst of revolutionary action, I mean, no one is arguing the math is actually neutral. But that’s the outcome if you want to pin it down of the Napoleonic normalization.

I mean, that’s something that can older why it shows very well with the techno Jacobins that become the new elite of the engineers. So in a way, I was following this from the mathematical side. So that’s one way and part of the story. I’m thinking about something else that David was saying.

Any math culture is political. I mean, is this something that I would say? I would say this is an interesting moment because the imagination of these people is overwhelmingly political. I mean, this is a moment of unprecedented crisis, or at least they think it is unprecedented crisis. And so all they think is social order.

I mean, either for restoring it or for transforming it. So the fact– so the mathematical imagination is not detached from this overwhelming set of concerns. So by that standard, I wouldn’t say that necessarily at any time, when we consider mathematical cultures, there might be different.

A concern for social order is necessarily the first thing that you would immediately notice. But it’s definitely the case at this point. And also, more generally, something that I think is actually always the case is that when we construct structures, like logical mathematical structures like all this one, we create new techniques, new mathematical techniques.

What we are doing is we are creating new possibilities, new possibilities of thinking about the world in different ways, organizing the world in different ways, ordering the world and reordering it. So the more techniques we have, the more we can think that we can reorganize what we know in different ways that are legitimated by mathematical logical structures.

So if you think about this, then reducing mathematical– the possibility of certain mathematical options means reducing– restricting our political imagination. We cannot imagine at that point, or at least it seems illogical to think that the world can be very much different from the way it is because we have restricted the possibility of imagining structures that are completely different.

So this is one way of reading what I was saying before about the restriction of the legitimate mathematical techniques that you can deploy in, say thinking about political order. So this, I think, is a constant. The fact that depending on what mathematics you have, you will tend to think about different possibilities in ordering and reordering the world.

The fact that this is necessarily the first, most obvious, and overwhelming social dimension that is expressed by mathematical techniques, that is more contingent, I think. There might be other priorities and other things. And– sorry.

Tom Laqueur: No, go ahead. We should open the floor, but we can also– you guys can come back–

Massimo Mazzotti: On the thing, yes. I was really– that was really something I really care about. And I think that’s an important point. And I hope, yeah, my sense was to– in a way, the idea of mathematical cultures as an antidote to that sort of modern, pre-modern quantification, post quantification. That’s not a real divide.

Laqueur: So the floor is open.


Matrix On Point

Matrix on Point: The Future of College

The pandemic has rocked higher education. From Zoom classrooms to students leaving higher education, colleges have needed to change modalities to adapt to public health risks and the emergence of new technologies. Enrollment patterns are also shifting in a changing economy: while selective flagship public institutions and not-for-profit private institutions are receiving more applications, enrollments have declined, especially among lower-income students. What are the implications of these changes for economic mobility and racial equality?

On October 5, 2023, Social Science Matrix hosted a panel discussion featuring a group of scholars discussing the current state of higher education — and what lies ahead.  Presented by UC Berkeley’s Social Science Matrix as part of the Matrix on Point event series, and co-sponsored by the Center for Studies in Higher Education (CSHE), the panel included Jonathan Glater, Professor of Law and Associate Dean, J.D. Curriculum and Teaching at Berkeley Law; Michal Kurlaender, Chancellor’s Leadership Professor at the UC Davis School of Education; and Mitchell Stevens, Professor of Education at Stanford University. The panel was moderated by Lisa García Bedolla , UC Berkeley’s Vice Provost for Graduate Studies and Dean of the Graduate Division, and a Professor in the School of Education.

Watch the panel above or on YouTube.

Listen to this event as a podcast below (or on Google Podcasts or Apple Podcasts). A transcript of the event is available below.


[MARION FOURCADE] Hello, everybody. Welcome to this panel. My name is Marion Fourcade. I’m the director of Social Science Matrix. And as someone who has been witnessing the transformation of college firsthand, the topic of today’s panel is very dear to my heart– the pandemic, new technologies, recent Supreme Court decisions and a changing economy have rocked higher education.

The burden of student debt has become unsustainable. And affirmative action has been struck down. The diffusion of new, more decentralized modes of learning and knowledge production poses real challenges to the college model as does the arrival of computer programs that can write decent college essays.

Meanwhile, a cultural shift is brewing. The world is burning. And young people seem to crave for something different. So we thought now was a good time to ask experts, what lies ahead for higher education? And what are the implications of these changes for economic mobility and the pursuit of social justice? So we have a phenomenal group of scholars to help us discuss these questions.

Today’s event is co-sponsored by the Center for Studies in Higher Education. It is part of our matrix on point series where we address contemporary issues. So our next event in this series, which you may see soon on the next slide, it will be on October 31, where we will discuss San Francisco’s so-called doom loop, sorry, not the boom loop but the doom loop and the future of commercial real estate.

We also have several Authors Meet Critics events scheduled on Tuesday, October 17. We will discuss Massimo Mazzotti’s new book, Reactionary Mathematics. On November 14, we’ll discuss Dylan Penningroth book Before the Movement about civil rights, activism before the civil rights movement. So I know we do have an online, a quite substantial online audience. So you know drill. You just put your questions in the Q&A and not in the chat. So just make sure you do that. We’ll collect your questions. And we will ask them at the end.

Let me now turn back to today’s panel and introduce our moderator. So Lisa García Bedolla is Berkeley’s vice provost for graduate studies, and dean of the graduate division, and a professor in the School of Education. She uses the tools of social science to reveal the causes of educational and political inequalities in the United States, considering differences across the lines of ethnorace, gender, class, geography, and more.

She believes an intersectional and interdisciplinary approach is critical to recognizing the complexity of the contemporary United States. She has used a variety of social science methods to shed light on this question. And while doing all of this, she’s a proud mom of three young adults. One of whom is in high school. Professor García Bedolla earned her PhD in political science from Yale University and her BA in Latin American studies and comparative literature from UC Berkeley. So without further ado, I can turn over to Lisa.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] Thank you so much. I’m just going to stay here and just say, in addition to everything that’s been said, as a parent of a brand new college freshman, and having gone through the college application process now twice in the last four years, and just seeing it from that side, it’s an important time to really think about that process and what exactly is happening in higher education. And I’m happy to have such a distinguished panel to help us tease out those questions.

So what I’m going to do is I’m going to introduce the three panelists and then have them so we don’t interrupt the flow of the talks. And then go ahead and start with Professor Stevens. So Mitchell Stevens, who’s to my left, he’s a professor of education at Stanford. He’s an organizational sociologist with long standing interests in educational sequences, lifelong learning, alternative educational forms, and the formal organization of knowledge.

His most recent book entitled Seeing the World– How US Universities Make Knowledge in a Global Era was co-authored with Cynthia Miller-Idriss, and Seteney Shami, with John Mitchell. He co-directs the Stanford pathways lab.

Michal Kurlaender is a chancellor’s leadership professor at UC Davis School of Education. Her research investigates students’ educational pathways, particularly K-12 and post-secondary alignment and access to and success in higher education. She has expertise on alternative pathways to college and college readiness at both community colleges, and four-year colleges, and universities across the country, and in all three of California’s public higher education sectors.

Kurlaender’s work focuses on the causes and consequences of racial, ethnic, socioeconomic, and gender inequalities through the educational life course and the impact of institutional policies and practices aimed at attenuating educational inequality. She also studies the impact of racial and ethnic diversity on student outcomes, including mandatory and voluntary K-12 school desegregation efforts, persistent inequalities and segregated schools, and diversity in post-secondary settings.

And last but not least, our lawyer is batting cleanup, Jonathan Glater, joined the Berkeley Law faculty in 2021. His research has focused on the ways that law promotes and limits access to education, especially higher education and the impact that education debt has on educational opportunities.

His recent publications include Qualified Sovereignty, Pandemic Possibilities, Rethinking Measures of Merit, The Civil Rights Case for Student Debt Reform. And he is also co-author with Amy Gajda on a casebook, The Law and Higher Education– Cases and Materials on Colleges in Court.

Professor Glater teaches courses like education law and policy, criminal law, and disability law. He’s also the faculty director of the Center on Consumer Law and Economic Justice here at Berkeley. And with Dalie Jimenez, he is also co-founder and co-director of the Student Loan Law Initiative, an interdisciplinary partnership with student borrower protection center, devoted to the study of the effects of student debt.

In 2023, he was named a member of the California Civil Rights council, a volunteer body tasked with developing regulations that implement California’s civil rights laws. He also serves as co-chair of the New York City Bar Association’s committee on education and the law. And so with that, we will start with Professor Stevens.

[MITCHELL STEVENS] Well, thanks, everyone. Am I good in Zoom land? Can someone affirm that? OK, great. Just delighted to have this opportunity. Special gratitude to those who gave up some of their warm San Francisco summer afternoon to be here. Especially in person, you’re rewarded with a little air conditioning, which I’m enjoying myself.

When I was invited by Marianne to join this conversation, I said yes right away, partly because I was very impressed by the co-panelists, whose work I rely on, partly because Berkeley is a very good place to think with as a student of higher education. And third, because the question posed by the panel is one that I think a lot about.

In the wake of the recent Supreme Court decisions on racial affirmative action and student loan forgiveness, a lot of people across the country are asking, what happens now? Many have talked about higher education being at an inflection point for some period of time? And there’s an increased sense of uncertainty, ambiguity, anxiety about how this creature that occupies such a central role in American political, culture, and economic life will move forward.

And so what I’ve been trying to do in my own work is to place current controversies in a longer historical arc. I’m doing that in tandem with my colleague Rick Banks in the law school at Stanford, Emily Levine an historian in the graduate School of Education at Stanford, among others nationally.

So what I want to do in my few minutes today is offer some provocations for thinking about this particular moment in the context of American higher education and political culture since 1945. And I’m going to do a Schoolhouse Rock version of a Schoolhouse Rock version of a complicated history. I’m going to emphasize, basically, four points.

And this comes out of maybe a 20-year effort for me. I’ve been trying to figure out what a university is. It’s a harder question than one might think. I think of higher education, especially in the United States in the way that one of my art history professors described the Italian Peninsula, is that it rewards and exhausts a lifetime of exploration. You’re never quite done.

But we have made some progress, I think, on answering the question of, what is a university? And I’m going to trouble you with a tiny, tiny bit of theory here. I want to suggest that universities or higher education– I’m going to use universities and higher education interchangeably today, which is a problem because most of higher education in the United States is not a university.

But for the purposes of my Schoolhouse Rock Schoolhouse Rock, I think it’s probably going to be reasonable. OK, and they’re very complicated organizations. And it’s a complicated institutional domain. I have argued in large measure because it is simultaneously multiple things.

It partakes of organizational templates, organizational rules, cultural logics, styles of reasoning, emotional commitments that are native to the major sectors of contemporary life. Sometimes they are direct extensions of state to the extent that they’re publicly funded and regulated. Sometimes they have many business-like characteristics. They operate in many ways like business firms.

They are philanthropic organizations as well. They are members of civil society. They are not quote “not for profit” unquote organizations. And they also organize the private sphere in American life to some extent, to a considerable extent. We put the names of our colleges and universities on our children’s clothing, on our automobiles. We think of ourselves as Golden Bears, and Trees, and Cardinals. They get linked to conceptions of clan and family in ways that are really important.

And so I’ve argued that higher education kind of sits at the intersection of those different domains and partakes in all of them. And that makes them really complex empirically. I have increasingly convinced that it requires us to have a distinctive political theory of higher education. They’re like a jackalope, a hybrid creature.

And I think this is really important, especially because a lot of social science tries to work from a single premise. So a lot of social scientists say, well, Stanford or Berkeley, they’re really like– they’re really like business firms. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. And it’s like, well, Stanford or Berkeley are like business firms in the same way that a mermaid is a fish.

I mean, if you presume that Stanford or Berkeley are primarily firms, you radically miss a lot of their complexity. So I’ll come back to that. But I want to just suggest that we’re dealing with a very– if we’re thinking about the future of something, we’re thinking about the future of a very peculiar organizational and institutional form.

OK, all right. So four big points after that. One is I want to remind us, this isn’t news, that in the decades immediately following World War II, US elites in government and higher education created a truly novel, like never before in world history, social welfare project. They transformed post-secondary education into a massive vehicle for social economic mobility that had never happened before.

The idea that college would be a vehicle for social mobility, except among a very small number of carefully circumscribed populations in particular empires and nation states had never happened before. And it’s remarkable to me how deeply that’s now taken for granted in the United States. But that really is a post 1945 idea.

And it was a peculiar form of social welfare. And I’ve been actually thrown out of rooms more or less by calling college welfare because, of course, in the United States, we put welfare in a bucket and higher education in another. That’s part of its magic. That’s part of its jackalopeness, I would suggest. But we did that in a very short period of time between 1945 and 1980. And it’s really– I used to think, OK.

I use this quote from Louis Menand a lot. Between 1945 and 1975, we had 500% expansion in undergraduate education, overnight. Yeah, good. I like 10 better than 5. OK, good. But I really appreciate that. And that, again, another massive social fact that’s almost completely naturalized. Oh, yeah. That happened.

And now we live in this new world with the University of California system, as if these things have always been there. They haven’t always been there. They weren’t there the day before yesterday. I think that’s a really, really important. And this thing about elites, this was not a poor people’s movement. This was not a movement at the margins. That massification was an active collaboration, we might call it a collusion, right between business, political, and academic elites.

We got Fred Terman here. We’ve got our friend Clark Kerr. We’ve got another academic statesman in the region, Emil Mrak who was the chancellor of UC Davis between 1959 and 1969. These were mostly, well-educated technocratic white guys, mostly. OK, this was a rich– this was an upper middle class, technocratic, voted for– endorsed by Republican economic development movement, if you will.

Now, not all of the academic statesmen, as I call them, were overeducated white dudes. We’ve got a great academic statesman on the right. That’s Mordecai Johnson, who was the first African-American president of Howard University, served from the 1920s to the 1960s, transformed that institution. So this revolution was not mono racial by any sense, but it was an elite movement. It was propagated by elites and often by political conservatives.

They did that under very specific historical conditions, which are now over. OK, what were those specific historical conditions? Well, there was the conclusion of World War II and massive anxiety among those same white technocratic elites about the perils, the risk of socialism and communism in the United States, and anxiety about the returning of hundreds of thousands of white men to an economy in which there was a great deal of uncertainty and ambiguity.

There was a desire to reward those men, and manage their re-absorption into the labor market. Hugely important, not only because it changed how higher education was provided but because it tied higher education. It made it a legitimate reward for an important category of people, white male veterans. It fused the idea of citizen virtue right with higher education, doing that to manage important political anxieties.

And then this thing happened. And this is the Soviet launch, successful launch of Sputnik 1 into space in the 1950s, which created massive, again, almost uniform anxiety among those same technocratic elites and a sense of emergency to dramatically expand the human capital capacity of the nation state.

Soon after that, the Civil Rights movement creates both a challenge for the Johnson administration and an opportunity for Johnson to expand a progressive social vision for social mobility and inclusion, which then gets tied as well to the passage of the Higher Education Act of 1965.

So you’ve got a war conclusion, a Cold War, a civil rights movement, a war on poverty, and unprecedented national prosperity. That’s what gave us the social welfare miracle that is the massification of higher education in the United States. For many people, it was fun while it lasted.

All right, so well– and that’s how you get these organizational miracles that we now inherit. And some of us have the privilege of living in– Stanford, Berkeley, Davis, that rich organizational ecology that now so many people worry is in peril. That’s all a function of this particular political and economic period. It didn’t last long. Well, why didn’t it last? Another complicated story, again, Schoolhouse Rock within Schoolhouse Rock.

But according to historians like the Berkeley-trained Robert Self, for example, the successes of the war on poverty in the middle of the 20th century in distributing public resources to Black and Brown people very quickly created anxiety among white voters about the legitimacy of redistributive projects, including higher education. As Self writes, it’s this part of the Bay Area that got us both the Black Panthers and Proposition 13.

So as that miracle of social provision begins to expand, white anxieties about that expansion very quickly begin to lessen citizen support for the expanded welfare state that the higher education of 1965 really, in fact, represented. Deindustrialization which begins in earnest in the 1970s breaks the Fordist contract with unions such that college becomes less discretionary for well compensated middle class lives.

So back in the day, you sent your two kids to the plant and your one kid to the University of Michigan. And she became an orthodontist in suburban Chicago. And that’s what social mobility was. But as the plants close, the necessity of having some other pathway into middle class prosperity puts pressure on post-secondary education, at the same time that public support for its provision is contracting.

And my colleagues Laura Hamilton at Merced and Kelly Nielsen write about this very nicely in the context of the public provision of higher educational resources in California. So I’m not making this stuff up. There’s plenty of places to go, but we’re still in Schoolhouse Rock. OK, so things change really quickly, very quickly.

Number three, and this is one that took me way too long to figure out, the project of using higher education for social mobility was always truncated and incomplete. And public commitment to it was always equivocal. I compare this to the high school diploma, which achieved the status of right in the United States in the early 20th century. And national consensus, cultural consensus by the end of the 20th century was if you don’t get a high school diploma, you haven’t failed high school. High school has failed you.

But no such social contract was ever accomplished for higher education. It was always a– it’s something you maybe are owed, maybe, but you also need to fund it yourself. And it depends on how virtuous you are, how much we’re going to help you. That’s how we ended up getting this $1.6 trillion in student loan debt with which Jonathan Glater knows so much about, and has shaped so many lives, and he’s now shaping a lot of political culture.

The Berkeley-trained sociologist, Beth Berman writes really nicely that that equivocation was baked into higher education provision as early as the 1970s, when the economist Alice Rivlin reasoned and argued successfully that higher education diploma is a mixed good. Because the society benefits from me getting a four-year degree, but so do I.

And so since the college diploma, apparently unlike a high school degree, is both a public and a private good, the compromise for financing was that financing of it would also be shared. So I point that out to say that there’s never been clarity in the United States about who is owed higher education and who’s responsible for paying for it, all the way from the very beginning.

OK, number four, yep, I’m almost done. And this is no surprise to those of us here. Four-year college degrees have come to divide America culturally, economically, politically, and even in terms of life expectancy, as we’ve learned recently from our colleagues in public economics.

There’s absolutely no question that this divide has come to shape American politics and perhaps contributed to political divisions that may or may not be irreparable. And I think we’re still– could take a while to figure out the extent to which the social provision projects of the Cold War created the conditions for the politics that we’re living today. And I have a bunch of easy solutions to this problem for over the next 35 seconds, which I’m going to say right– no.

I’m going to suggest, however, that all of these things are connected. The problems that we’re facing today are products of a long standing, still ongoing conversation about what higher education is, who deserves it, and who should pay for it. And there are a lot of unanswered– there’s a lot of questions that have been unanswered in American political culture to that question for generations.

So these aren’t new questions. It’s the conditions under which we’re being obliged to ask and answer them what have changed. So we could say what happens now. I would actually like to take a more active trying to say, what do we do now as agents and actors of history? Perhaps we are among those technocrats who built the future back in the 1950s and ’60s.

This is not a what happens next story. This is a what informed civic action do we want to mobilize for? Yes, I’m almost done. And then there’s, who is this we? Because last I checked, advocacy for higher education has itself become politicized. It has itself become identified with the left.

So if there is going to be a “we” like mobilization that’s going to include, I’ll say, my political opponents as well as those who agree with me, then some kind of narrative of shared fate and opportunity is going to have to be created if these enormous and increasingly divisive problems are going to be collectively addressed. I’ll stop there.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] And next we’ll hear from Professor Kurlaender.

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] That was great and tough to follow a Schoolhouse Rock presentation. All right, so I’m going to try, in my remarks, also try to make a few big points. But first, I will start with some trends on where most Americans go to college. I’ll get into the value proposition, is college still worth it? And then make three assertions about the future. And there’s some great connections and really appreciate the context of history here. So make some connections to the historical context.

All right, so just first– and I won’t have too many data figures, but just a few to situate our current context. And this is college enrollment rate over the years. If I had shown the 30 years that Mitchell had shown, you’d see just a huge increase in who’s going to college over the last century.

And then importantly, what to pay attention to now is the last 10 years of stagnation. And in particular, this is all 18 and 24-year-olds, but really, a stagnation and even decline since 2010, which is largely a function of declining birth cohorts. So this is the recession of the 2000s. But then also, we’re expecting an even bigger one as a result of declining shrinking birth rates from the Great Recession.

And so that is one of the reasons. Now of course, we’ve seen in the popular press. And I’m going to just put– this is the overall, the 38% roughly today. There’s been some rebound from the pandemic. It’s obviously higher among students who are going straight from high school. So that’s just good to put in context as well.

So again, we’re predicted to grow– to decline as much as 15% in the coming years, when what’s determined as a baby bust. But of course, if you’re following the popular press, it’s beyond just this declining birth rates, that there are other reasons why we might see declining rates of college enrollment. A big one is increasing cost of attendance, financial burden that’s been placed more on individuals than on our state systems. We’ll come back to that.

The pandemic was a particular decline. And that we know was mostly felt by low-income families. And it was felt at particular institutions. I’ll say more about that in a minute. There’s also been a strong labor market, which isn’t predicted to stay this strong for this long. And then finally, there’s this question of value right which we’re seeing. And I’ll speak to that as well.

All right, so I wanted to show this just to remind us because I know we’re going to spend some time on college selectivity. But I just wanted to first just show the distribution of enrollment by selectivity. This is from Nick Hillman’s work. Actually, Mitchell has a lovely one by race in the New York Times opinion piece that you had published with Richard Arum, which I also like as well.

So this just shows you the distribution of enrollment by selectivity. And since we spent a lot of time focused on those selective colleges, including Berkeley, and Harvard, and UNC. And in fact, a very small share of students are enrolled in these selective institutions that are represented here in the purple.

What I like about the Opportunity Insights income data is it allows us to even look at the top 0.1%. And so we can see this elite. And there’s been a lot in the press around– a few great papers that have come out on those elite institutions. But then again, just note that broad access, that yellow if you will, which is where the majority– between the yellow and the moderately selective, where yellow is over 80% of students accepted.

Sometimes the 100% of students accepted is where the majority of US students go to school. And in particular, it’s where low income students are going to school. It’s where I spend most of my time thinking about. And California has a really great system, the community college system where we have seen some of these most dramatic kind of declines and persistence issues in the pandemic.

I wanted to show you– since my lab and work we do connects the California, just to bring it close to home. In California, we have a unique system. In fact, ours– if I showed the US rates, you’d see that about 70% of students are enrolled at four-year institutions. We have a reverse system here because of our big community college system. In fact, 1 in almost 4 community college system students in the country is a California Community college student.

So on the top here, you see all California public high school students. You’ll see about 31%, this is in the year right before– the year right before the pandemic, don’t go on to any college. And 37% go on to a community college. 13% go to a CSU, 8% to UC, and then some private and out of state.

SED means the students who are in K-12 identified as socioeconomically disadvantaged. And so we see more of them don’t go on to college. And about the same rates are across the segments. The other important thing to note here is, also, the lower rates of overall college enrollment among Black and Latinx students and the really high rates of community college enrollment, more generally in the state relative to the country.

Finally, you might note that Asian students have the highest overall in rate enrollments at UC. And that’s by a lot, at 22%. That’s the green bar. So the goal here is just to be able to look at how this opportunity across California is distributed across a variety of groups. So just our own context.

So what do we know about an increasingly complex enrollment profiles? So today’s college student we know is a much more complex student than the era that Mitchell described. Today’s student is more likely to be enrolling part time, to be working while in school, to have attended multiple institutions, that is to pause and maybe restart.

And what we know is that they don’t necessarily stop out. That they start– they might start later, start after working for a period, pause in enrollment. And so the majority of today’s college students look very different than the college students of a half a century ago. And we also know that there are many off-ramps for students in colleges– so too few on-ramps and too many off-ramps.

And that there’s a lack of articulation between the institutions that many students transfer in and out of. All right, so with that, we are not surprised then, perhaps, that the completion outcomes are quite weak in college overall. And again, so here– I’m sorry. I thought you were giving me a time zone. I know I’m talking fast though.

So what’s important is, as we know more students are going to college than ever before, again, save for the declining birth rates. But we also know that completion rates have stayed largely stagnant and have even declined for some minority groups. And so overall, the completion rate is about 68% of students overall. But we also see that there are big differences by gender. Women are more likely to finish than are men.

Students who start immediately after high school are more likely to finish. And we see a similar pattern by race as we did with enrollment. That is Asian students are much more likely to finish. And here I should have said, finish four-year institution means getting a bachelor’s degree, a two-year institution. These are six years later.

These are students who aren’t finishing with even any credential, as long as six years after. And so in fact, about 1 in 3 students who enter community colleges leave– don’t return after a year of even starting. So the completion outcomes, even for associate’s degrees, are quite low in our system, which has also added to the critique of, what’s the value? No, this is national, national data.

All right, so is college still worth it? And lots of press on this. I’m happy to get some pushback on this as we continue to a conversation. But the short answer is, yes, period, full stop, as we see average wage premiums. And in particular, that just means over the course of a lifetime, we know that. And there’s several estimates for this.

But on average, there’s like a 68% increase in your overall life– of your lifetime earnings, comparing college recipients to those who don’t get a college degree. We also know that in the knowledge economy, there’s a huge demand projected to be a huge shortage of college educated workers in the coming decade.

Lots and lots of research on the personal well-being or the connection, the correlation between getting a college degree and other life outcomes. And that includes everything from health indicators– from even happiness metrics. Again, these are all endogenous and correlated items, but even civic participation. I bring you to several organizations that show the ways in which education pays.

There’s also public benefits. And Mitchell referred to those. And that’s everything from the likelihood of not being unemployed, to increased wages, but also for civil society in terms of the likelihood of voting. So great economic and civic benefits to a college degree. And yet we still see critiques.

So what are the caveats? And this has gotten a lot of attention in the recent years, looking at average wealth premiums and other metrics to look at return on investment, if you will. So first, we know that the degree completion matters. And so that premium really comes about from completing a college degree.

We also know that there are important differences by fields of study. And we also know that the debt and the increased cost of college has made that wage premium smaller than it ought to be, that is middle class families who have spent huge amounts of money to get their student into school have now less wealth to presumably transfer on to their children.

All right, so I’m going to make three assertions around the path forward. The first is perhaps an obvious one and will be connected across our three talks, I think, which is to address the affordability. So that is a restrengthening, maybe after Mitchell’s talk, a restrengthening in the public investment.

So we’ve known that, basically, individuals have had to bear the brunt of the increased cost of college as opposed to state systems and federal systems to reduce the debt. And to really– the conversation in California has really been also accounting for the full cost of attendance.

Lots of financial aid reform in California is featured around how to increase the basic needs of students to be able to live in the state while going to school, so housing. And that includes community college students who are also living in the same expensive state despite the lower tuition that they experience relative to the four-year.

And the other one, which I hope we’ll have some more time to talk about is what our institutions– what we can learn from the pandemic. And that is about sustained flexibility. And what do I mean by that? I mean higher education today looks very different than it did than March of 2020. And so we have done what faculty and our institutions never wanted to do in most places, not in all places, and have completely transformed.

Some have transformed back, but most have not. At least at the places that I study like California’s community colleges, they have not. And so they have really leaned in to the flexibility that students are demanding. Learning modalities, enrollment processes, getting rid of a 15-week semester to smaller blocks of units. A whole host of complete transformation that has come about.

As part of that flexibility also means that students, especially students in California have had to carry their pathways on their back, so to speak. What do I mean by that? I mean our systems don’t speak to each other. So students who stop and pause really pay the price and have the onus on them to figure out how to complete college when they’ve paused and stopped. And so we need much better flexibility and articulation between our systems of education.

And then finally, partly because the good that might come out of the public critique is more outcome driven policies, that is student completion, and equity, and completion. And so that is things like performance funding, which we’ll come to be in the California Community Colleges. CSU, while not done this way, has had a grad initiative that has really motivated the system to try to improve completion rates and to improve four-year completion rates in a four-year institution which shouldn’t take six years.

So what I would argue is that the pandemic has allowed us to realize some opportunities in this urgency and in recovery. And I have lots of examples from the community college and the four-year public systems in California about the ways in which they are trying to be flexible, to be a more concierge-style educators, education systems of the kind that for profits were doing before the pandemic, partly because that’s what many of their students demand.

So meeting the needs of today’s college students requires this institutional agility, I argue, and increased public investment, not just to, in terms of money, to reduce the cost to individuals but to support institutions to keep adapting. A lot of money came in recovery. Is that money going to go away to sustain the kind of adaptability that these institutions need to be able to keep responding to student needs? I think I finished in time. OK.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] About two minutes on the table. And as we transition to Professor Glater, I just want to add one more piece. We just did some polling in the Central Valley at least in California. And among those folks who didn’t go to college, the most common answer was affordability.

And I think it really speaks to our lack of communication about the fact that, in fact, these schools are much more affordable than they seem based on the sticker price. And so I think we’ve also not done a very good job in higher education of making clear the types of scholarships and supports that are available to the students on that other end of your graph. They were sobering results. Professor Glater.

[JONATHAN GLATER] OK, thank you. And thank you for coming out and enjoying the air conditioning with us. My name is Jonathan Glater. I teach at the law school here at Berkeley. And it’s really remarkable to speak after the two who have gone before me, who have really presented an incredibly sophisticated and nuanced description of where we are and how we got there.

As the lawyer on the group, my job is to pour cold water over everything. My contribution will be, I hope, both to put the challenges facing higher education in the present moment in the context of law and to provide a way of thinking about those challenges thematically. So I’m going to offer a framework along the lines that Mitchell did or I’m going to try to.

And it has these three elements– money and merit or excellence, if you like, but then you lose the alliteration. So money, and merit, and meaning which could also be institutional mission. And I want to suggest to you that contests over each of these terms are becoming more and more intense, which both means that access to higher education is under greater threat right now. But it also means that the possibility of radical change exists too.

And I’m going to try and convince you that that’s what it means to be at, what Mitchell called, an inflection point right now in higher education. So the cost of higher education over the past 50 to 60 years has increasingly been borne by students and their families for reasons that have already been touched on. Tuition growth has outstripped family earnings. And students and their families have responded by borrowing. This is the money problem.

OK, student debt now burdens tens of millions of students, undermining that promise of social mobility and personal financial security that higher education is supposed to offer. I say this recognizing that higher education is not just about return on investment, but when the price tag gets big enough, it’s very difficult not to focus on the money. That has a remarkable way of concentrating one’s attention.

OK, so I’m not talking about college as a useful tool to make our lives more interesting and the world more comprehensible. That’s dropped out of the discussion because the debt burdens are too great for people to focus on that. So debt is a complicated– and that’s the point of this quote. So I don’t want to lose sight of this idea that there is more to higher education than the finance.

Debt is a complicated policy instrument. It makes higher education accessible, but it also makes that access riskier. And that risk in turn means, for some students, the investment in higher education is a terrible deal. It’s a bad investment. For other students, repayment obligations can affect career plans, life plans, family plans.

We get more research on this almost every day. And the experience of the global pandemic has exacerbated differences along socioeconomic lines, leaving less wealthy people and lower income people more precarious. Of course, there’s a racial dimension to this too because of, who needs to borrow larger amounts? Who has more or less wealth? Who has higher or lower income?

Black people in particular, we tend to borrow more and struggle in repayment more, not least because we tend to earn lower wages. And some advocates of cancelation have characterized student debt cancelation as a racial justice initiative for this reason. During the pandemic, student loan obligations were suspended, a teasing experiment of what broad-based cancelation might look like.

Borrowers now face those obligations. And many of them are worse off financially post-pandemic than they were before. So I’m going to return to cancelation in a moment, because that’s another way that law enters the story. But it’s important to note first that student debt is a creation of law. We talk about student debt– again to Mitchell’s point, we take this thing for granted.

But pre-1958, really, it was just– it was like borrowing using a credit card. It was just debt. The idea of student debt is something that is unusual, that has particular characteristics, that is treated exceptionally by the bankruptcy code, all of that is statutory. That’s all new. We take it for granted, but the government can change the terms on which higher education is offered. States can change the terms on which higher education is offered.

So fulfilling a campaign promise, the Biden administration attempted last year to cancel a huge swath of student indebtedness. This is really a remarkable, political event and something to bear in mind as we’re thinking about what’s possible going forward. This was a fringe idea, as the media characterized it prior to Biden’s move to do it, that moved all the way to the center of political discourse, and then to the federal Supreme Court.

If you would ask me three years ago whether student debt would present itself as an issue to the federal Supreme Court, I would have laughed and said that’s absurd. Because both I wouldn’t think cancelation would be a viable political move. And I wouldn’t expect the court to have any interest in taking up the issue as salient to law.

Cancelation would have benefited tens of millions of borrowers, disproportionately borrowers with smaller balances because they would find themselves debt free. Interestingly, the research on student debt is consistently found that those with smaller dollar balances are more likely to struggle in repayment. So this would have had an oversized effect on some of the most vulnerable students.

And I’m happy to say more about this during the Q&A. I don’t want to really engage in an extended policy debate over the wisdom of debt cancelation right now. I don’t have time. But as an initial matter, I note that the idea that we always enforce our debts, that’s a national value, how can I not understand? That’s a rule that’s absolutely followed all the time except for all the times when it’s not.

And so this is a political judgment that we can make. And the real question is, what are the costs and benefits of mitigating this form of debt? So let me get to the– let me get to the law. Oh, no, see. I’m going to skip this because you have already covered.

OK, on a tenuous legal theory of standing, that is of the validity of the claim, so standing– can you go into court and claim that you have been injured or have you not suffered an injury? So you can’t just go to court and seek an advisory opinion. On a tenuous theory of standing, attorneys general from several states challenged the Biden administration’s cancelation effort. And the plaintiffs argued that the language of the legislation that the administration relied on did not mean what it seems to mean.

And so I’ve put the language up there. I joked with my students that the question before the Supreme Court is whether waive or modify any statutory or regulatory provision means waive or modify any statutory or regulatory provision. Supreme Court says it doesn’t. Supreme Court says it doesn’t mean that they can waive or modify any statutory provision, OK.

If folks want to dig into the legal reasoning, we can. But the insight I want to draw from this foray by the court into student debt is that higher education finance is actually inherently a political question. And in deciding this case against the administration, the justices and the conservative justices in the majority were making moves on multiple chess games at the same time.

One, first one on the list is the contest over the growth of the administrative state. So should the Department of Education have the power that the Biden administration is asserting that it’s having or should the authority of executive agencies be reined in, be limited? So that’s one context that the court is resolving.

The second one is the setting of precedent. What happens as a result of the court deciding that the Secretary of Education does not have the authority to cancel debt on the scale that the administration is proposing? Because if the court says that the administration can do this, what can the administration do next?

OK, inter-branch competition, what we call in law school separation of powers. So this is an executive branch move, not a legislative branch move. And the court, the third co-equal branch is saying the executive is overstepping. If the legislature wants to authorize the executive to take this step, that’s OK, but the legislature has not clearly done so because waive or modify doesn’t mean waive or modify. Therefore, the executive cannot take this step. So this is a contest over who has power.

Institutional credibility, meaning the credibility of the court, which has been trending downward pretty dramatically over the past couple of years. So is there a cost to the court of making a decision that looks, to my third point, like an act of partisan advantage? Because this is conservative justices undermining a signature initiative of a Democratic president.

OK, but for our purposes, so those are the different board games. And there probably others too on which the Supreme Court is resolving the question of debt cancelation. But out in the real world, the Supreme Court is keeping higher education risky for students who had to borrow because cancelation is now not on the table to the degree or in the manner that it would have been. So the move by the court that means it’s undermining access.

The interesting thing is that the administration has responded with innovative regulatory moves, developing more favorable repayment plans for borrowers, for example, like the SAVE plan. Do I have that? I have that. There we go. The SAVE plan which adjusts the amount that students are required to pay on their monthly obligations.

OK, also canceling the debts of students who attended for-profit schools that engage in fraudulent misconduct, for example. And disproportionately, those schools target Black and Brown students. So these are meaningful policy moves that the administration has undertaken, perhaps, over the longer term, more impactful policy moves than one time cancelation might have been. That can’t be right. We’ll see.


Yes, I get her too. OK, so much for money. Let me move ahead to merit. So the court is– the Supreme Court is also stepped into battles over admissions at selective institutions. The decisions in the cases against Harvard and the University of North Carolina squarely raised the question of, what is merit? That is, what criteria should selective colleges and universities– which most students to be clear do not go to, but they’re the institutions that get all the attention.

What criteria do they use when deciding whom to admit? And admissions to these selective institutions has been fought over forever. People of color were consistently and systematically excluded. The practice of taking race into account in order to ensure access to these institutions to applicants who were members of these historically excluded groups, that’s called affirmative action. That’s called affirmative action.

And you can view this as trying to help those who are worse off or you can view this as distorting a racially neutral merit-based system. All depends on what your baseline is for purposes of analysis. The nominal plaintiffs in the suits against Harvard and UNC were Asian-American applicants for admission who charged the consideration of race and admissions caused denial of admission.

There’s a really complicated question to ask about causation that I don’t have time to go into, but maybe we’ll talk about it in the Q&A. And I’m happy to get into the weeds. But the insight is that the conservative justices understand any effort to promote access for one student as harmful to other students. And that’s the quote I pulled from the majority opinion in the case.

So in this way, the court rejected rationales previously endorsed such as the pursuit of a diverse class of students. The conservative justices, in espousing colorblindness, meant that admissions criteria at selective institutions should not be picked with an eye to their racially disparate effects. Instead, if the neutral criteria that the justices endorse produce less racial diversity, that result was not a factor in assessing those criteria.

OK, so this decision finding consideration of race and admissions unconstitutional also was an attack on institutional autonomy because the colleges and university are arguing that they should be able to do this. And the court is saying, no, no, you cannot. The court is rejecting deference to colleges and universities to choose whom to admit. And this relates to my final topic, institutional mission, the meaning question.

This slide is blank because we’re just finding out. We don’t know yet. We’re going to see what happens in the coming years. We’re not seeing policy innovation yet like that in the student loan context. There is language in the opinion that suggests schools may consider experiences of applicants affected by race, which seems at odds with the larger rule espoused in the opinion.

But if the numbers of Black and Latinx students do not fall, I expect to see repeat litigation alleging that colleges and universities are now doing by stealth what they were previously doing openly. Colleges and universities values themselves will be the subjects of that litigation. This is one of the reasons, I think, this inflection point will manifest as intensified contest over these questions– who gets in, where, and how it’s paid for.

OK, so to the question of meaning. There are contests over institutional mission and values out in the open now. And this is just the most recent example. Do you remember the US News and World Report rankings just came out, modified method of ranking the institutions. Vanderbilt fell five spots.

And whereupon the university administration just excoriated US News and World Report saying US News is measuring the wrong things. What they’re measuring is not our indication of either our students merit or our own. So in doing this, Vanderbilt is showing that how we assess institutions, how we assess students reflect choices we’re making.

There’s nothing inevitable. There’s nothing actually that is neutral or obvious about whatever tool we use to say a student has merit or an institution has merit. And in the coming months and years, I anticipate that colleges and universities will, with increasing frequency, have to articulate and justify their institutional views, actions, and practices.

Why do we do what we do? Colleges and universities cannot take as given the anything we do. Think of whom we hire. Think of the food we serve in the cafeteria. Think of the terms on which we employ grad students, everything. Any action can be seen through a politically partisan lens.

We can try to pretend otherwise, we can lay claim to some sort of scholarly neutrality and determination to follow the evidence. But commitment to that kind of research, ideal itself, has to be justified. It’s a political commitment. We will have to embrace our political and politicized role if we want to sustain our mission as an academy of learning.

So what does this all mean? Oh, I did keep the picture. OK, what does this all mean? It means greater readiness to engage in expression of the ideas on which higher education institutions rest. And my example of that here, this picture just always makes me like almost weepy.

So these are young lawyers, recent law school grads who flocked to the airports and were working under these conditions in response to the first anti-Muslim ban by the Trump administration, which to me is laws playing a role in a political battle, not in the way– not in the same way I’ve described up to this point. It is being used in ways people did not anticipate.

OK, we, like these students or like these young lawyers, need to be ready to engage in expression of the ideas on which higher education institutions rest. We have to be committed to support and protection of students as a core value. It means being ready to justify both our commitment to research and our respect for expertise when choosing what to do and how to do it.

And those battles will be taking place in the courts, in the court of public opinion, and in legislatures. We will continue to attend to the role of law in shaping what these institutions we are also invested in do and become in the future. So with that, I’ll stop. How did I– 15 seconds, OK.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] Perfect. Perfect. And if I could invite our speakers back up here for the Q&A and thank them for wonderful talks. Two quick things, just in case people don’t on the US News. And we don’t want to debate that. But folks should know they actually purposely changed their methodology each year in order to create that movement, when we know institutions of higher education don’t actually change that quickly.

And the second thing I wanted to share is that in this polling we’ve been doing in the Central Valley, interestingly while there is some support for debt forgiveness, there’s much more overwhelming support for free college. So this idea that you don’t want to pay people back for a decision they’ve already made, but the free college idea is actually quite popular among all demographics. So just as a framing for our conversation. Any questions or comments? Yeah. And if we could wait for the mic just for both for the people on Zoom and for the accessibility of the room.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] I have a couple. So first what happens when the enrollment cliff hits for the many nonselective colleges? How will they remain open? And then the second question is, how can law school tuition continue to rise?

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] I think so. You can hear me, yeah? OK, so I think there’s going to be an existential crisis in some of the nonselective institutions. And I think this is why I argue that being able to be responsive to what students want. And so that is– and that includes some of the tough labor issues. so. I’ll just, again, look at our own state, where the faculty senate of the community college system is very strong. And there are lots of labor considerations, for example, downsizing programs, or courses, or things like that.

And so I think there will be this combination of legal policy organizing around what happens in some of these colleges as the enrollment declines. So again, in the last even two decades, we’ve seen increases in community colleges in the state of California. It’ll be interesting to see in the coming decade what happens to those.

I can imagine, again, we’re in a district system. So you can imagine some campuses that are creative, collapse to create in-person residential type campuses and others that will have more online options, again, to address the different types of needs of students at these open access institutions.

And if I can add one layer because it’s not– people aren’t talking about it as much is many of our Cal State campuses are actually under-enrolled. And so you have UC oversubscribed in the sense of applications increasing. And then you have Cal State campuses they can’t fill their seats. And so the master plan at least in California doesn’t seem to be working at the moment.


[JONATHAN GLATER] I was hoping– I was hoping to dodge that one. Is this on? Can you hear me? Is this on? OK, I can’t tell. Why wouldn’t it?


OK, so that’s the real question. It’s not how much it costs question. It’s a who pays question. So I gave this– I was speaking at your institution a couple of years ago. And a student asked a version, but was much more rude about it than you were. And I said, why do you care how much it costs?

We could spend less on it. We could have worse facilities. We could pay faculty. We could do a number– but that’s not really what you want. What you want is someone else to pay and make it super deluxe. That’s what I would want. The cost has to be born– has to be allocated somewhere. And costs are going up. Cost of everything goes up.

But the policy conundrum, I think, is not the cost going up. The policy conundrum is who’s going to pay that cost so that the students don’t have exactly that very pragmatic problem you’re alluding to, which is what happens after they graduate and they have to pay off these outstanding amounts.

Right now, the last research I’m aware of, [? found ?] law school, financially, is still a good bet in terms of the positive hit on lifetime earnings. But that doesn’t mean, it feels great for my students to graduate with well into the six figures of indebtedness. That’s going to affect what they do. It’s going to affect where they live. It’s going to affect the timing of having a family, getting married.

These are not positive policy benefits. These are the effects of making debt the policy tool of choice to put higher education in reach. And that’s where I would target– to the extent I hear frustration in your question, that’s where I would direct it.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Thanks. These are all very interesting. I wanted to ask a question that goes back to the 1930s again and ask about whether a particular item thing that happened then might be relevant to today that wasn’t in the narratives. So in the 1930s, we had this constitutional revolution in the United States where all of these old gilded age cases were thrown out.

One line of cases that survived though– all right, so this was the idea of substantive due process like the Lochner Era. So these were like– but the one line of cases from that era that survived was the cases that said there’s a substantive due process to send your kids to private education. And I’m recalling constitutional law class from a long time ago. So maybe I don’t have that exactly right.

But I was just– I’ve been thinking lately about– and this doesn’t necessarily cover the whole span of– this does not cover the whole span of colleges and universities, but the way that a lot of the elite schools are becoming– have become these luxury items, where you have these super small enrollments, especially at Ivy league schools and stuff where I think that there might be more political science majors at Berkeley than there are students in a class at Harvard for instance.

And so I’m just wondering, is part of the– is it maybe an important part of the narrative that this peculiar decision happened where– because there were serious push backs to limit private education that were going on 100 years ago. And then those got shut off by the Supreme Court. And then also could not be revived in the 1930s. And I’m wondering, is that an important part of the development of higher education? And does that maybe– I don’t really know the answer.

So I’ve just been puzzling over this if you guys have any thoughts on it. Because it strikes me, like if you read someone– what’s the name of this guy? Scott Galloway. So he’s an investor in education technology. But he doesn’t always talk about this when he writes about higher education, and critiques higher education, and says, oh, it’s this hyper luxury good.

I agree with him at least with regard to elite schools. I don’t think that’s true of all schools. But he’s talking up his investments also because he says, oh, these schools should have many more students. They’re bad. And we should bring in all this technology that I’m invested in, basically. It seems to be what he’s saying.

I’m just wondering if maybe going back to 1930s helps us get some traction on decisions that were made because I think the US is an outlier among wealthy democracies for the extent to which private universities are important within our higher education system. So I just want to throw that issue on the table and see if there are any thoughts.

[MITCHELL STEVENS] I’m not the legal scholar. So I’m going to let Jonathan do that. It does seem to me that with higher education, we’re talking– higher education is not provided by right. So there’s a way in which, I mean, the legal environment for post-secondary education may be different than what you’re talking about.

I do think on the rich institution question. And I think this is another magnet on the compass which is a very important, I think, opportunity is the– just as in the rest of the class structure, the wealthiest institutions have never been so much more wealthy than the rest of the sector.

OK, so what Emily Levine and I call the academic social contract that we now live under was really written in the middle of the 20th century when Harvard was rich. But it wasn’t as spectacularly more rich than Berkeley as it is today.

And the selective schools have become so much more exquisitely selective. So the hyper concentration of luxury right is, I think, another kind of secular strain on this process that I think should be scaring the daylights out of presidents and provosts at places like where I work.

And what I’m personally trying to do is figure out a way to guilt them into giving more stuff away because one of the things I would want to emphasize here is that colleges and universities are quasi independent actors. I mean, they don’t have to just comply with stuff. They can give more gifts. They can do different things.

But I do think that’s a big part of it. The four seasons hotelness of the institution that I work for is a political problem. It’s a moral problem. I know that, but it’s also a political problem which we might be able to turn into an opportunity, I hope.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] If I could just provide perspective on that point. I think it was two years ago. It might have been three. The return on the endowment at Yale was $15 billion. I mean, just the amounts of money. That was their gain in one year.

We’ve never been here before, in terms of that kind of wealth.

[JONATHAN GLATER] Maybe we should talk– because I’m not sure which case you’re thinking of. The cases that I’m thinking of– sorry, everybody. The cases that I’m thinking of are in the K-12 context, not in the higher ed context. And their issue was– there was an issue around religious instruction specifically. So I’m not sure it’s quite apposite, but maybe we can talk after because if you’re thinking of something else, then we can explore it, OK.

[JULIA SIZEK] OK, we have a couple of questions from online. So I’m just going to start with two different questions from two different anonymous attendees about student debt. So one of them is about– I guess, I’ll just read it.

Do you think that one or two years of general studies courses required by most universities add to the burden of cost for students and their families and therefore account for low graduation rate and success? In a society that is technology driven, could you speak of the merits of stacking those general studies courses up front and also their implications for student debt.

The other question is about how student debt is related to the general landscape of borrowing. So since cost of living is not often keeping up with wages, are low-income students doomed to being in debt forever given that market forces are not in their favor?

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] I’ll start on the fields of study. And there’s definitely, as I mentioned on the payoff to college, it does vary by fields of study. I think the general education question is a good one in the sense that, I think, we have seen, in places where there’s lower completion rates in particular nonselective and in particular community colleges, a cafeteria style approach around course taking that hasn’t served students well and a real effort to streamline that course taking with the goal of hitting a major and a degree path more quickly.

I think where it’s a real tension is these look very different than the elite places that Mitchell referenced. And so who’s entitled to that broad exploratory? So I worry a lot. So I think it’s a real tension, the desire. Most students who come into college, they want to finish. They want to have a degree path. They want to know where they’re headed. But there’s also a lot of value, as we know, from the origin of higher education for this exploratory that we don’t expect 18-year-olds.

And this is very different than other industrialized countries, where you immediately go into a professional path. And so again, I think in this heightened space, both politicized and the economic forces are going to mean that there may be further division between getting some students in a more CTE vocational focused pathway through community colleges more quickly and more efficiently, while there will be others who will have this very luxe, liberal arts experiences, which I think is not an ideal for the other fractures in our society right now.

[JONATHAN GLATER] OK, it’s a really interesting question. And it highlights the structures for allocation of financial aid because if you can think about the question as related to what’s the subject of study, but you can also think about it as a question of, what kind of aid do you get?

So imagine a world in which Pell grants, instead of starting at a number and gradually increasing were front loaded. So the first two years were fully covered by Pell grants. And the second two years, if you continue, then you have to borrow more to do it. Then this problem goes away. Then this problem goes away. And that’s not my idea. That’s Caroline Hoxby’s idea. We can think about things in different ways once we recognize the different dimensions of the problem.

Can I speak to the second question about student debt in the context of debt more generally? This is exactly the critique that this tool of social– this social engineering tool to make higher education more accessible to serve as an engine of social mobility actually is reproducing pre-existing socioeconomic and racialized hierarchies because of the obligation to repay at the back end. It’s exactly this concern. And I don’t know what to say beyond that. And yes, in response to the question.

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] I just want to add two things to this question. One is that I agree that we are just now accumulating more evidence on when does aid matter. So is it– is it front? There’s a lot more research on academic momentum, why we might want students to enroll in [? more, ?] to fully absorb the college experience to finish more quickly.

And then the other, yeah, so I guess I would just say we do need more evidence on when– at what point do we need additional aid to help students complete. And I think the evidence is still thin on that. I know we’re trying to do it in California, understand the ways in which Cal Grant reform, for example, could support more students.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] And if I can add just a quick personal frame on general education, which I think we in the educational field think it’s your opportunity to explore and learn new things. But for some STEM majors– one of my son, one of his quarters was Python, calculus, and introduction to chemistry. There’s no joy in any of those. The idea that you have to have these tools to get to the interesting part is, I think, also another piece that makes general education harder for students to get through because there’s no intellectual–

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] I will say also we’ve been stuck in this high school– I mean, one of the other ways to completely break the system is to rethink the role of high schools and this to begin with. And there’s a real opportunity now partly because of the enrollment declines to blur that space between high school and college.

And we’re seeing that partly with things like dual enrollment or students taking classes. And so I think we have long wanted to rethink, at least, the 12th grade year if not the 11th and 12th in a way that could also reduce the time and the opportunities for students to get to their fields of study of interest more quickly.

[MARION FOURCADE] Thank you. That was really fabulous. I really appreciate the political lens that you are casting on this question. And so I wanted to ask you a little bit about the Democrat-Republican divide on college achievement. I know the Piketty, the Piketty graph showing the flip between the top 1%, essentially the top 1% most educated flipping from right to left. And the bottom flipping from left to right. But if we dig deeply across different states, types of colleges attended, and so on. What do we learn about this divide between Democrats and Republicans?


I don’t know. You’re the expert. It seems to me– precisely because college is so much a political problem. I think it matters enormously to something about that.

[MITCHELL STEVENS] Have I seen research that passes– have I seen research that parses institutional type? I haven’t seen that. I’ve only seen on the relationship between amount of education and political affiliation. So it’s a really good question in that regard, but I don’t– there is something I wanted to– I mean, I wanted to– I’m increasingly paying attention to. And I want to just maybe insert in the conversation.

There’s another movement– there are two other movements underway that I think are relevant. One is what I’m calling the partial disestablishment of the four-year college degree as the sine qua non employment credential. And that’s a movement that I have cautiously joined for reasons we won’t talk about here.

But it’s driven in part by the Trump election of 2016 scared the daylights out of the education philanthropic establishment. They realized that college for all had gone terribly wrong in some ways. And so there’s been a national search for mechanisms of opportunity creation that don’t look, sound, feel, price like college.

Governor Newsom is one who has investing substantially in this movement, a national movement also to remove four-year college credentials as necessary qualifications in civil employment. That movement is also being turbocharged by a tidal wave of private capital in the educational sector.

And this is not like– this is not your University of Phoenix venture capital backers. This is Amazon, Alphabet, Microsoft, Cisco actively encouraging a rethinking of a credential ecosystem. And that expansion of private capital is almost no social scientists are paying attention to that.

So I mean, I think it’s another magnet on the compass which is a fundamental rethinking in the private sector of what the credential marketplace of five years from now should look like. It’s completely unregulated, almost completely unregulated. There’s not even clarity on which branch of the federal government would be responsible for that new sector. Again, there’s a lot of opportunity for innovation as we might say. Yes, exactly.

[JONATHAN GLATER] Micro credentials.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] I think we have time for one or two more questions. I don’t know if we have any online.

[JULIA SIZEK] Yeah, we do have some online questions. So one question that we have from Kenny is about the relationship between selective and nonselective colleges and given the fact that many of these nonselective colleges are experiencing enrollment declines, what would happen if they were to close? And how do we think about the relationship between the nonselective college and the selective colleges when we look at the industry as a whole?

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] Yeah, I mean, again, I think I would argue that most students, they start at community college often for any number of reasons– financial, regional. We still have four-year college deserts in California. And they most will tell you they want a bachelor’s degree, whether or not they should get that is another question and in what field.

But the point is, I think that I would argue that part of where the master plan failed was to really allow for better intersegmental relationships. And this is a problem in other states, but not necessarily the magnitude of that problem isn’t as big in other states. I think we have made it– we have put all the onus on students instead of on institutions and instead of systems to solve this.

Again, so I think in under declining enrollment, as I’ve said, I think there will be some really tough times ahead for some of our colleges, including potentially the CSU. Though again, it’s the far residential remote CSUs that have struggled. We still could put more four-year CSUs in the LA county region and not satisfy the need for transfer students– the transfer students have.

So it really requires our state to work together and figure it out. UC has pushed back on things like guaranteed dual admissions, that is high school students applying straight into UC knowing their first two years and partly because there’s space constraint.

And so let’s test them. Let’s test these students out first at community colleges, see if they can pass muster. So I think it just behooves us to rethink the structure as is implied in the question, which I appreciate. And so we’ll see. I think that the urgency of the declining enrollments will force us to some creative solutions.

And closures.

And potentially closures.

We’re starting to see closures.

You guys are really efficient.

[JULIA SIZEK] OK, well, so this is very fitting considering that we had many participants here on Zoom, including many people who are still here. So one question that someone had was about the future potential of higher education being delivered online or remotely and what you prognosticate for that.

[MITCHELL STEVENS] Well, I guess one thing I would say is– one thing that’s not going to go down is lifelong demand for educational credentials. That’s not going anywhere but up– nationally, globally. So I think– if I’m optimistic, I’ll see public investment in lifelong learning for, say, Californians going like this.

But the amount of private capital that’s going into that sector is going like this because I don’t think we’re going to see any diminution in demand. I do think that one of the things that we need to talk about is, what then is a college education? If I’m getting it in my living room with my pajamas on, is it the same thing as a civic project certainly. Is it substantively the same thing as the public sphere that is instantiated by the College of San Mateo?

I mean, there’s one thing I know the College of San Mateo is. It’s part of the California Public sphere. I can walk onto it whenever I want. I’m a partial owner of it. I will encounter other Californians whom I might not otherwise have met. Maybe I can get something online, but it’s not that. And so I think something for us to think about is, yeah, of course, digitization is going to keep going like this. Is that college? or what things is it not that may be of civic value to the people of California?

[MICHAL KURLAENDER] And the challenges College of San Mateo needs to offer about 60% to 80% of its courses online now to meet its enrollment demand. I mean, this is the tension. I agree with everything you just said. And the problem that college has is to keep its doors open. It’s going to have to increasingly.

And so think that genie is not going back in the bottle, at least not– Berkeley can require its students to come in-person. And similarly, we know we’ve just– we’re in a different space in digital learning. We’re all like recording our classes because that’s just good for students to do. So I think it remains to be seen is really the–

That’s right.


[MITCHELL STEVENS] That’s right. And we’re grateful to everyone in Zoom land who’s here, participating in this civil discourse.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] Well, if I can just add speaking of the cost of higher education and who pays for it, the two biggest costs are the physical plant and the people. And we’re already paying for the people. And if you want to have access, you may have to move to online in order to actually have more capacity, to serve more students with the same physical plant.

So there are other financial reasons that could be pushing more– our chancellor likes to talk about elasticity of place, not necessarily online degrees but opportunities to spend semesters or other time away so that the physical campus can manage more students.

[MITCHELL STEVENS] Elasticity of place. I’m taking that across the bay with me. I like that.

[LISA GARCÍA BEDOLLA] And the students are asking for it, but it’s complicated. And it has fiscal implications as well I wanted to say. So please join me in thanking our amazing panel for an incredibly informative and provocative session. Thanks to all of our folks online. And thanks to the Matrix for organizing yet another great conversation.


DEEPFAKE: A Rhetorical and Economic Alternative to Address the So-Called “Post-Truth Era”

Since Greek antiquity, there have been two fundamentally different conceptualizations of the search for truth. On the one hand, platonic politics proposed to control the city by subjecting political expression to the philosophical concept. On the other hand, the rhetorical tradition opposed the logocratic and universal claim of philosophy, in the name of the diversity of subjectivities and forms of life that composed the demos, and justified democratic deliberation as a form and process of agreement and democratic agency.

On May 10, 2023, Social Science Matrix hosted a symposium that aimed to develop a critique of the current debates about Post-Truth and fakeness, and specifically of Big Tech’s effort to frame the political expression of the demos as it solidifies its control over the digital economy. Going beyond calls for the prohibition of deepfakes, this conversation aimed to evaluate and exploit the rhetorical potential of deepfakes for democracy. Do deepfakes, through the circulation and reappropriation of symbolic images, have democratic value? How can we promote an alternative rhetorical paradigm to the alienating alliance of surveillance capitalism, computational capitalism, computational sciences, and data sciences?

Read the Argument

Organizer: Igor Galligo, Visiting Scholar, UC Berkeley Department of Rhetoric; Founder,

Funding and Scientific Partners: 

Scientific Partners at UC Berkeley:

Other Scientific Partner:

Saas-Fee Summer Institute of Art


Opening Remarks: Igor Galligo, UC Berkeley, UPL, NEST, Founder of

First Session: Rhetoric, Democracy and “Post-Truth”: How are rhetoric and fakeness consubstantial with democracy? To what conception of truth does the notion of “post-truth” correspond? And why is Post-Truth a problematic notion for the rhetorical tradition?

James Porter (UC Berkeley, Rhetoric Department)
Linda Kinstler (UC Berkeley, Rhetoric Department)
Chiara Cappelletto (State University of Milan, CSTMS)
– Collective discussion with the audience

Second Session: Subjectivity, Digital Computationalism and Artificial Intelligence: How does the theorization of contemporary computing, which gave birth to the Internet and artificial intelligence, and which is based on computationalism, constitute a problematic conception of subjectivity? How is this conception opposed to the rhetorical and hermeneutic tradition? What conceptions of truth are discarded by computationalism?

David Bates (UC Berkeley, Rhetoric Department)
Warren Neidich (Saas-Fee Summer Institute of Art)
Morgan Ames (UC Berkeley, School of Information, CSTMS)
– Collective discussion with the audience

Third Session: Critical Digital Rhetoric. What renewals can be made within the rhetorical tradition to adapt it to the digital political and Artificial Intelligence contexts? What critical political powers can digital rhetoric retain in the face of computational digital media, fed by data sciences in the new social spaces that are the Internet and social networks?

Nina Begus (UC Berkeley, CSTMS)
Justin Hodgson (Indiana University, Department of English)
Nathan Atkinson (UC Berkeley, Rhetoric Department)
– Collective discussion with the audience

Fourth Session: Computational Capitalism and Surveillance Capitalism in light of the Deepfake. What conceptions and productions of truth do computational capitalism and surveillance capitalism promote? And against what conceptions or practices of producing truth do they discriminate? To which social groups, does this discrimination pose problems of expression and individuation today?

Marion Fourcade (UC Berkeley, Social Sciences Matrix, N2PE)
Igor Galligo (UC Berkeley, UPL, NEST, Founder of
Konrad Posch (UC Berkeley, Political Science, N2PE)
– Collective discussion with the audience

Fifth Session: For a New Digital Political Economy of Deepfake: How to extend the digital political economy to the symbolic and iconic economy? What new rhetorical and hermeneutic economy of truth can political economy invent? What circuits of collective truth production can political economy develop to grant the deepfake political meaning and value?

Martin Kenney (UC Davis, Department of Human Ecology, BRIE)
Mark Nitzberg (UC Berkeley, BRIE, BCHC, BAIR)
John Zysman (UC Berkeley, BRIE, CITRIS)
– Collective discussion with the audience


Jews and Other Groups Who Resisted the Nazis: Means, Motivations, and Limitations

Recorded on April 28, 2023, this video features a series of talks and panels from an interdisciplinary, comparative symposium exploring what remains an under-examined topic in the history of World War II and the Holocaust: the multivarious paths through which ordinary men and women resisted the Nazis. While scholarship on the choices, backgrounds, and motivations of perpetrators and collaborators has become quite robust, it is only in recent years that resistance has received growing scholarly scrutiny.

At the one-day symposium, historians and sociologists focused on a variety of locales from Eastern Europe, to France to North Africa to the Netherlands, explored a range of subjects that illuminate distinctive paths of resistance, among both Jews and non-Jews. Through their case studies, they illuminated how factors that include religious community and theology, proximate danger, pre-war political engagement, and social geography could become decisive in the choice and circumstances of resistance.

Co-sponsored by UC Berkeley’s Center for Jewish Studies, Helen Diller Institute for Jewish Law and Israel Studies, and the Berkeley Center for the Study of Religion, the symposium was coordinated by Dr. Ethan Katz, Associate Professor of History and Jewish Studies and 2022-2023 Matrix Faculty Fellow.

Welcome & Introduction (starts at 0:12)

  • Ethan Katz (UC Berkeley History & Center for Jewish Studies)

Panel: Religion and Resistance (starts at 12:31)

  • Robert Braun (UC Berkeley, Sociology & Center for Jewish Studies), “Religion and the Protection of Jews During the Holocaust: Evidence from the Netherlands”
  • Johanna Lehr (United States Holocaust Memorial Museum), “Biblical resistance and the Reinvention of French Judaism Under the Occupation”
  • Moderator: Deena Aranoff (Graduate Theological Union, Jewish Studies)

Second Panel: Structures of Resistance (starts at 1:49:55)

  • Rachel Einwohner (Purdue University, Sociology), “Certain-Risk Activism: Risk, Threat, and Participation in Jewish Resistance in Warsaw and Vilna”
  • Ethan Katz (UC Berkeley, History & Jewish Studies), “Paths of Resistance in Algiers: Family and Community as Decisive Factors”
  • Sarah Farmer (UC-Irvine, History), “Resistance and Rescue: Hidden Jews in Rural France”
  • Moderator: Alma Heckman (UC Santa Cruz, History & Jewish Studies)

Concluding Roundtable (starts at 3:44:16)


Roundtable with Orlando Patterson: The Nature and Invention of Freedom




Recorded on May 2, 2023, this video features a roundtable conversation with Orlando Patterson, John Cowles Professor of Sociology at Harvard University, focused on The Paradox of Freedom, an interview with Patterson by David Scott, originally published in Small Axe in 2013. In their long interview, Scott and Patterson discussed the sociologist and novelist’s childhood, education, public service, and books. The conversation reflected on Patterson’s intellectual biography and his groundbreaking analysis of the political entanglement between slavery and freedom.

Joining Patterson in conversation for this Social Science Matrix Roundtable were Ricarda Hammer, incoming Assistant Professor of Sociology at UC Berkeley, and Daniela Cammack, Assistant Professor of Political Science at UC Berkeley. The discussion was moderated by Caitlin Rosenthal, Associate Professor of History.

Listen to the presentation as a podcast below or on Google Podcasts or Apple Podcasts.

About the Paradox of Freedom

The Paradox of Freedom is an exploration of the life and work of Orlando Patterson, probing the relationship between the circumstances of his life from their beginnings in rural Jamaica to the present and the complex development of his intellectual work. A novelist and historical sociologist with an orientation toward public engagement, Patterson exemplifies one way of being a Jamaican and Black Atlantic intellectual.

At the generative center of Patterson’s work has been a fundamental inquiry into the internal dynamics of slavery as a mode of social and existential domination. What is most provocatively significant in his work on slavery is the way it yields a paradoxical insight into the problem of freedom – namely, that freedom was born existentially and historically from the degradation and parasitic inhumanity of slavery and was as much the creation of the enslaved as of their enslavers.

The Paradox of Freedom elucidates the pathways by which Patterson has both uncovered the relationship between domination and freedom and engaged intellectually and publicly with the struggles for equality and decolonization among descendants of the enslaved. It will be of great interest to students and scholars throughout the humanities and social sciences and to anyone interested in the work of one of the most important public intellectuals of our time.


“The Nature and Invention of Freedom”: Roundtable with Orlando Patterson


[MARION FOURCADE] Hello, everyone. Welcome, welcome, welcome. So for those of you who were here last night or who watched the lecture online, it was a phenomenal lecture and a wonderful exchange. Lots of energy came out of the room, I think. And we are eager to repeat this today.

So I’m just going to introduce our moderator, Caitlin. And she will introduce our speakers. So Caitlin Rosenthal is a historian of 18th and 19th century US history. Her research focuses on the development of management practices, especially those based on data analysis. She works at the intersection of qualitative and quantitative methods to understand business history, economic history, and labor history.

Her first book, titled, Accounting for Slavery: Masters and Management, which came out with Harvard University Press in 2018, won the Simkins Award of the Southern Historical Association, as well as the first book prize of the Economic History Society. So thank you, Caitlin, for moderating this panel, and I am so excited about the discussion that is to come.

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] Thank you. Thank you for that lovely introduction, and especially for this introduction to be part of such a wonderful and interdisciplinary panel. When I was preparing my introductions, Marion said that I could have a little bit of liberty to personalize, which I thought I would take advantage of the fact that we had already had one introduction so far.

I will say, briefly, that Professor Orlando Patterson, who’s, I’m sure, already known to many of you, is the John Cowles Professor of Sociology at Harvard. He is the author of six major academic books, of three novels, and of countless articles, and a long, long list of prizes.

The two things where I wanted to personalize– the first, I guess, is not so much personal to me, as it’s coming out of the reading that we did to prepare for today’s session, in which Professor Patterson reflects on what it means to be a public intellectual. And reading that description of what his work aspires to do, I couldn’t find a better description of what it has done.

His work, as he writes, and I will paraphrase slightly to make clear that it has been done, is that “His work enlightens some of the big issues of our time, such as freedom, democracy, and equality. It helps readers come to terms with the great evils of human history, such as genocide, slavery, colonialism, racism, classism, and colorism. And it helps people to be honest about how the past works in accounting for present outcomes.”

And I thought, in particular, that use of that word accounting, which is what I study myself, is figuring out how to account for the past and how to change based on it. And the little bit of personal inspiration I’ll take is that I quote Professor Patterson very, very often. It’s a phrase from a 1979 article in the New Left Review, where he describes the period of slavery that I study, which, of course, is not all slavery in all places, as “Merely capitalism with its clothes off.”

And that’s a phrase that has not only been mobile in my own work, helping me to think in new ways, but has helped me turn around the way I ask questions about slavery and capitalism. Turning this around to think not just about what capitalism and slavery can tell us together, but what slavery and the history of slavery more broadly can reveal about capitalism, and its flexibility, and the power relations that it covers up in most broad terms. So thank you for that phrase and also for the inspiration.

We’re going to start not with Professor Patterson, but with two prepared comments. And then we’ll turn the floor over to him to respond and then to all of you for comments. First, Daniela Cammack is an assistant professor of political science here at UC Berkeley. Her work focuses on democracy and its history in ancient Greek. And her book manuscript, Demos: How the People Ruled Athens, argues that the meanings and practices of democracy are marked by relations of domination.

Professor Cammack will be followed by Ricarda Hammer, an incoming assistant professor, joining us this summer in the Department of Sociology. Her work is at the intersection of global historical and postcolonial sociology. She received her PhD from Brown University in 2021.

And her book manuscript is titled, Citizenship and Colonial Difference: The Racial Politics of Rights and Rule Across the Black Atlantic. The book aims to build a new genealogy of rights formation by examining it through colonial struggle from the perspective of the enslaved and colonized in the colonial Caribbean.

So I will begin by turning it over to Daniela for her prepared remarks.

[DANIELA CAMMACK] Thank you so much. Oh, wow, it’s very loud. Great, I think everyone must be able to hear me. Is that correct? Good. Thank you so much, Caitlin. It is a huge honor and pleasure to be here, to have been asked to take part in this roundtable discussion.

I think it’s about 20 years since I first read some of Professor Patterson’s books, when I started my graduate studies at Harvard. And going back to them in the last few days has been even more exciting, and actually enlightening and pleasurable than the first time around. They really– they’re so rich. And I’m so full of respect and admiration for the work that you’ve done. Thank you so much.

So there are so many things that I wanted to flag as points that I find so compelling in the writing that Professor Patterson has shared with us today. So, for example, freedom conceived as power– I find that very persuasive.

The lack of any kind of platonic form of freedom as a concept, that also the thought that it doesn’t exist universally in the hearts of men, but rather is something constructed. I was thinking about Elaine Scarry’s distinction between the made up and the made real, and thinking that freedom is something that has been made up, and has subsequently been made real in the forms of discourses and the institutions that it’s worked to congeal, kind of coalesced around it.

Yeah, and not found everywhere on the globe but is a distinctive value within the Western tradition. I take that very seriously. I fully agree. And I also was– I was so pleased to discover something that I hadn’t fully realized before, was that so many of your intellectual heroes, I’ve also– I really look up to and admire. So we were just talking about Moses Finley. I’m half British. In the British tradition– EP Thompson and Eric Hobsbawm, these are people that I also really revere. And the early Marx of course, is a huge touchstone.

I wanted to ask– there are so many things, actually, that come up in my teaching. And I was thinking, wow, I could really take advantage of my few moments here to ask your opinion on some of the things that I tell my students and what do you make of this? I selected two. I have two general issues that come up in my writing and in my teaching that really touch on a lot of the arguments that you make.

So one has to do with power and the kind of power that the ancient Greek demos had and that maybe ordinary people would need to have in other contexts in order to be free, or when free. And another interest of mine is also going to be what to make of passages when the demos is itself represented as being a slave, how to think about those. So those will be the two main issues I want to think about.

So in terms of the different– the power that the demos has, or had, when being free, being eleftheros, Professor Patterson, very sensibly, distinguishes between the positive understanding of freedom, the power to– positive power to do things with respect to oneself, others, society. Also associated with the idea of being empowered or autonomous, as distinct from her negative power, power to resist compulsion, and a third kind, which he glosses as public power and associates with participation and equality.

I was very interested and pleased, very delighted to see your use of Emil Benveniste, his work on the concepts of kratos, the term kratos. I also followed him in my work. And I think his– I think his historical account of the kratos as a form of power, that obviously is really important for us, is the kind of power that is found in the term demokratia– demos and kratos. People often talk about that as people power or people ruling, rule by the people. There are different ways of glossing it.

And I just– I wanted to probe a little bit your take on kratos as a form of domination. You mention this in the extract from the forthcoming book, The Short History of Freedom. And I take that very seriously. I’ve also written about kratos as a form of domination. I read it as really a kind of prevailing power.

It’s the power to prevail over others is how I understand it. And I wondered if in your mind, when you think of the demos having kratos, are you thinking of the demos having power over others– others being doulos, being slaves in the first instance, possibly allies in an empire?

And what do you make of the claim that I would want to put to you, which is that possibly the most important form of kratos that you see in demokratia is the domination of the demos over the elite, over the political elite? But that may actually have been for the ancient Greeks the most important group over whom they would need to dominate, the demos, ordinary people, would need to dominate in order to be free. I think we can see that in the history of democracy. And I would really value your impressions of that.

I also wondered about them the relationship between kratos as prevailing power, the power to dominate, and a couple of other Greek terms for power. Because we tend to use that one term, power, in many, many different senses, of course. But the Greeks, I think– the ancient Greeks were much more differentiated in their understandings of different kinds of power. So kratos, the power to prevail, seems very different from being kurios, being authoritative or being an authority.

And that is another kind of power that the demos has within demokratia. It has the power to control– kind of sovereign power. We can think of it as sovereign authority. That’s a slightly different form, but I think also a very important ingredient in their conception of eleftheria, of freedom.

And another kind, again, is [GREEK], which is more like empire, or sway, or really office holding. Usually, in ancient Greek democratic texts you don’t find the demos talked about as having– as [GREEK]. There’s a couple of examples very early in the late 5th century.

But by the time you get to the 4th century, to have [GREEK] is really understood as being the kind of power that an office holder has as an individual, very distinct from the idea of power that the collective has. And the demos is always the collective.

So I just– I wondered if these different conceptualizations of power map on in any way to the ideas you have of power within freedom or if they feel, actually, very different from some of the arguments you’ve been making? So that’s one set of issues and thoughts.

So the second set of issues and thoughts I had was these passages where the demos– we find the demos represented as itself being a doulos– itself being a slave. Actually, often it’s with the use of the verb. So it’s often the demos is [GREEK]. It’s hard to know how to translate that. I’ve struggled with it ever since I first started learning ancient Greek. I wanted to say slaving away is one possible translation. Or you could also just say serving.

So the idea of the demos serving the elite comes up over and over again in the text, actually– again, from the late 5th century onwards, but, for example, in the old oligarch’s text, there’s several mentions of the demos serving the elite or risking having to serve the elite, to [GREEK] again if they didn’t keep the upper hand over the elite.

We also find it in Aristotle’s politics. He says there, flat out, that if the demos does not have the power to elect officeholders and hold them to account, then it is nothing but a doulos, or would be nothing but a doulos, a slave and a [GREEK], a hostile internal enemy.

So these passages always put me to some trouble when I’m teaching, actually. Because the students very naturally want to know what is being said about the demos here. Is the idea that the demos, without its political power– say, before Solon’s reforms, often comes up here, because before Solon’s reforms, the demos are described as a doulos to the [GREEK], so serving the– serving the nobility, serving the nobles.

And they want to know are we being told here that all the members of the demos literally were slaves, they were doulos to the elite? Or are we maybe being told that en masse they were conceived as dominated by the elite to such an extent maybe they’re constantly risking being turned into individual slaves with individual masses among the elite? Or is there some other way of understanding this?

I’ve always wondered, are we meant to understand– do you think we’re meant to take those passages literally or maybe more metaphorically, that the demos is being glossed as a slave or framed as a slave, when it doesn’t have full political power? Is that a metaphorical usage of the notion of doulos? Or might it be that it suggests that there was always a very political– what we would call a very political component to the notion of slavery from the very, very earliest texts?

That maybe the paradigm of the individual slave, perhaps in a household, in an oikos, serving one particular master, maybe that’s not the entire foundational paradigm. But maybe there’s a sense in which there’s a collective enslavement, maybe of the class. I’m thinking of Marx, the class of slave to the many– sorry, to the elite. Is that the way we should be thinking about that?

And then the final question I have on that theme would be something like, would you think that there is maybe a collective equivalent to your notion of social death? So as I understand it, that is operationalized at the level of the individual, that the slave within a household experiences this [GREEK] dishonor, before they’re in a household, but also. But is there an equivalent at the collective level? Or would that be slightly to misconceive or misrepresent the relations that you see obtaining between these different groups, that dominated and the dominators?

Thank you so much. I’ve so much enjoyed reading everything, your work, and the new work. It was a privilege to read some of the new work that’s coming out. And I can’t wait to see the full–

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Thank you. Thank you very much.

[RICARDA HAMMER] OK, so thank you, Marion, Julia, and everybody else who was involved in putting together this really extraordinary conversation. I am overjoyed really to be in community with you all, finally. And it is such an honor to have this conversation with thee Orlando Patterson. It is so nice to meet you, if a little surreal. But thank you for sitting down with us and engaging us.

So I wrote my comments to keep myself on time. Now, it is fitting that the starting point for a discussion on Patterson’s writings on freedom is a biographical dialogue. His life experience in the Caribbean is the vantage point that shapes much of Patterson’s opus. For it the site that encompasses so many of the contradictions of the modern world.

Much like C.L.R. James, who positions the Haitian revolutionaries not as particular, but as world historical actors, Patterson shares with many intellectuals in the Caribbean tradition the ability to think from the Caribbean, but too, give us a perspective on the world.

In fact, in this interview with David Scott, Patterson explains that it was the celebration of Empire Day that brought inspiration for his monumental study on freedom. A young boy in colonial Jamaica, he was submerged in the unofficial anthem of the British Empire, “Rule, Britannia,” and its bizarre chorus, called, “Britons never, never, shall be slaves,” which struck him, as he explains diplomatically, strange.

Now this invocation to articulate freedom through its antonym will eventually lead Patterson to theorize the twin dimensions of slavery and freedom in Western culture. Indeed, from the position of the colonies, he is able to see clearly the components of the nature of freedom, one of which is the power to dominate others.

It is no accident, he says, that the American Revolution is fought by a set of slave owners. And indeed British settlers in the West Indies were particularly intent to claim their, quote, “Rights of Englishmen,” precisely because their insistence on their freedom to dominate others.

Now Patterson claims freedom as a sociological topic of study. Meaning that freedom is not an ideational product of the European intellectuals’ mind, but rather it is culturally and historically situated. And it comes out of a particular social constellation. And that is the institution of slavery. Freedom then is not a universal value, but it emerges, and gets institutionalized peculiarly, and in unlikely ways, in Western culture through its emergence out of slavery.

For historical sociologists, Patterson offers a methodology for how to situate concepts not as free-floating, abstract ideals, but as products of particular social institutions. For example, the second component of the triad of freedom emerges in the struggle of the enslaved, perhaps best epitomized in manumission, the release from slavery, which is the struggle for absence of domination.

I’m quoting Patterson– “Freedom began its career as a social value in the desperate yearning of the slave to negate what for him, or her, or for non-slaves was a peculiarly inhuman condition,” end quote. And he then traces the struggle from ancient Greece, Rome, and continuing through its Christian reformulation. Freedom follows from slavery, from death to rebirth, slavery to salvation. In short, I quote, “Out of evil, cometh hope.”

Now Patterson really stands alone in his mastery of these topics in sociology. And this work has opened up the space for us to engage these topics as sociologists. But I’d be really boring if I didn’t at least try to challenge you. So here it goes.

My questions have to do with the distinction between the ancient and the modern world, and whether in the modern world, after 1492, with the onset of the colonial project, freedom is mediated by who gets to be human in the first place. Take the temporalities of slavery and freedom, “Out of evil, cometh hope,” what happens when manumission is not the absence of domination, but the imposition of a new form of domination? In other words, what if abolition is not the antonym of slavery, but the beginning of something else?

Abolition in British Jamaica, for example, invoking the historian Thomas Holt, posed for the British Colonial Office the quote, “Problem of freedom.” For the Colonial Office, abolition required an investigation into the nature of the enslaved, specifically whether people would work without slavery. Indeed, this colonial report concluded that– I’m quoting– “Slaves, if emancipated, would maintain themselves, would be industrious, and disposed to acquire property by labor,” end quote.

So applying a Pattersonian methodology, one that sees freedom as culturally inflected with meanings and socially situated, it becomes clear that freedom after abolition is the freedom to work. Of course, freedom in liberal England is a scam, we’ve known since Marx’s “Satanic Mills.” But my point is that with abolition re-emerge an older question, which is this debate over the anthropological nature of the newly freed.

And this debate was not only centered on work, but also sought to answer more foundational questions over their disposition, their souls, the minds of the newly freed. Missionaries, as Catherine Hall, made clear in Civilising Subjects insisted that the formerly enslaved were reformable, only to then lose this battle with the rise of polygenists’ racist science of the 1850s. By then, the British Colonial Office concluded that the formerly enslaved were, indeed, fundamentally different.

So to understand slavery and freedom in the modern world and in the colonial context, don’t we need a mediating concept, which is that of personhood? What kind of person could be free or who could be a person at all. As you know, John Stuart Mill is outraged at the British colonial state’s violent response after the Morant Bay uprising, and yet, Mill finds absolutely no problem with the imposition of Crown rule in 1865. Because, quoting his One Liberty, “Despotism is a legitimate form of government in dealing with barbarians, provided the end is their improvement,” end quote.

Now I think Jamaican intellectuals are leading the conversation of new genealogies of freedom. Alongside Patterson, Sylvia Wynter and Anthony Boggs have also undertaken this work. And for them, colonialism throws a wrench in the story.

Take Wynter, in 1492 she argues, “Ushered in the articulation of those who self-articulated as human, versus those colonial intellectuals designated as outside of the human community, a community under God, versus those without souls, and hence, heathens, a political community of rationality, versus those incapable of it, or we might say, in this case, a community of laboring, responsible subjects, versus those who are not reformable.”

With debates in modern Europe emerged the conception of personhood, designating the colonized as outside it. And thus, foreclosing any discussion of the simultaneous, coetaneous existence of slavery in the plantation colonies. How else do we explain the apparent cognitive dissonance in someone like Benjamin Constant, who was very much thinking about liberty and relationship to ancient slavery.

But in 1819, wrote, as Barnor Hesse pointed out, seemingly without any irony at all, that, quote, “Thanks to commerce, to religion, to the moral and intellectual progress of the human race, there are no longer slaves among European nations,” end quote.

Now finally, Patterson is an intellectual in the world, engaged in politics. So I must mention the third part of Patterson’s triad of freedom, which is freedom as participation and equality. If, as Du Bois remarked, “The slave stood for a moment in the sun in periods, such as Reconstruction, but at the same time Reconstruction saw the realigning of capital and the reshifting of racist ideologies to tighten the borders of the political community,” leading Du Bois to conclude that “This very failure of Reconstruction led to the failure of democracy in America.”

With the limits of abolition and Reconstruction, my question to you then would be if it is not only slavery that needs to be explained, but also the limited ways in which freedom was instituted.

All right, so thank you so much for republishing this book and for rekindling these debates. I look forward to our conversation. Thanks.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] OK, well, thank you very much for those extremely stimulating comments. Well, in many ways, very provocative and raises issues which I’ve often thought about myself. I keep going back to my work and rethink what I originally thought, often based on not just criticism, but things I’ve read later on and from discussions of this nature. And you’ve certainly raised a lot of very interesting issues of the sort, which leads me to rethink.

For me, ideas are always open, and nothing is ever closed, including the possibility of completely rethinking what was thought before. I always hold that possibility out. So I think the issue you raise about power is very, very important.

I often find real resistance to the idea that power is central to the notion of freedom, for the same reason that liberalism tends to see it as the opposite of freedom, rather than being, in a sense, the defining principle. But that’s just a sort of form of way of hiding.

I tend to see liberalism as a kind of elaborate camouflage of the principle of power, because what is being said is that what’s important, what’s central, of course, is the escape from domination. And that’s why in David Brion Davis’s work– in a sense, I see the essence of his work, is that the centrality of the abolition movement to liberalism was, indeed– it made that point. Quintessentially, freedom is getting rid of slavery and doing that.

But what is it camouflaging? It is camouflaging the idea that there is a form of power which remains central to the idea of freedom right through to today. This has being camouflaged all along. And that is, of course, property.

Marx, in a famous passage, once made the argument that modernity involved the transition from the control of power of property through the control of people directly– that’s what serfdom was about– to a condition in which we control people through a control of property. And that’s what is being camouflaged.

And that terrible truth, one of Marx’s most powerful readings, is what’s being camouflaged with the obsessive emphasis only on the idea of freedom as negation of personal– of the power over another. Because it remains almost– it’s too embarrassing and revealing to see this other dimension.

But, of course, as I pointed out, American history, itself, makes clear the centrality of power, not only in the importance of property, which is being camouflaged, but directly, in the fact that half the nation went to war to defend the principle of freedom as power over [INAUDIBLE]. That’s what the Civil War was about.

So the idea– and the Southerners were quite explicit about this– they were fighting for their freedom. And it befuddled many people, but it shouldn’t, if they knew their history. In fact, the South has the history of Europe on its side.

So I found your comments extremely useful. The idea– the notion that the demos as a slave, I just wondered whether– that expression, and that image, and that thought, an that metaphor is a powerful one which persists right through. So in a sense, the Stoics took it up, the notion of the ultimate freedom was, in fact, surrender and complete– well, enslavement to God– to the power of the universe.

In Roman thought, of course, it is significant that– and this comes out in the famous biography of Augustus, that ultimately a surrender to the emperor– enslavement to the Emperor was the ultimate freedom. And the Romans– the freedmen of Rome– the elite freedmen, the ones who subscribed to the Lares cult, which was the cult of the emperors, saw their freedom as guaranteed and vested in being the slaves of the emperor.

And that idea, of course, was picked up in Christianity and became central to– this is why I think Paul has a solution to much of many of the problems of [INAUDIBLE] and their freedom. People, you should all read Paul. He was a very strange man, but maybe the most brilliant thinker. Certainly, the most influential thinker in the history of the West, whether you’re a Christian or not.

So the two great letters were– the letter to the Galatians was freedom in the simple negation. This is what Christ’s death simply bought you out of enslavement to the sin. The metaphor is– the interjection was direct. Jesus paid for you to be manumitted. Evidently, the people don’t seem to know that the word redemption comes from redemptive, which literally means to buy someone out of slavery. So Jesus bought you out of slavery in the negative sense.

But in Romans– and theologians spend so much time wondering about how you can reconcile Paul’s letter to the Romans with Paul’s letter to the Galatians. I never saw a problem. Because what he then did was to shift the notion of freedom as slavery to God. And of course, says it quite clearly. And he got that straight out of Stoicism, by the way, who got it straight out of the Greeks.

So that extraordinary idea, which became central in Christianity– one of the most difficult and profound passages in the entire New Testament was when Paul describes the experience of– and people have always thought, what is he saying? How could he have moved from Galatians? Which was– literally, goes on about the freedom of women, of Gentiles, and so on. This is what Jesus’ death presented too, an idea, which is very much a more Augustan idea of freedom as surrender to God. But it all goes back to the Greeks.

So that sense of freedom coming from surrender to a powerful force, which is– which can be conceived as the state, if you like, and is how I would see the origin of that idea. And, of course it tracks right through Western history, through Christianity.

And by the way, the reason why then Christianity is so important is that it’s Christianity that carries Western– ancient thought and ideas of freedom. People often see a break in the history of freedom with the collapse of Rome, but it’s nothing of the sort. The point is that these ideas were powerfully encapsulated, although interjected in Christian doctrine of freedom.

And it’s often– especially philosophers tend to see Christianity– oh, that’s religion, so that’s not– this is ridiculous. It was the most important thought there is in Christendom. And as [INAUDIBLE] and others have pointed out, in many ways modern thought was simply the extrusion, if you like, or the opposite of interjection– the extrajection– the turning out of the spiritual back into the secular, in the same way that the secular thought of the Greeks and the Stoics was interjected into Christianity, which then held it for 1,000 years.

And reflected, by the way– and no one reads the simple fact that– perhaps the most prominent student of modern source of freedom is Locke. Locke’s work– and I think the biographers of Locke have now come around this idea– it’s almost accepted– was applied theology. It’s hard to believe.

Now, I don’t know how many of you read Locke’s religious writings, but his commentary of the Gospels, which nobody reads, which– was very revealing. But it’s just part of the process of the extroversion, if you like, or whatever the proper word is– the interjection– of this powerful Christian, if you like, encapsulation of ancient Greek thought through [INAUDIBLE] back into the world.

And the same ideas– the same three ideas came. So the idea of the Galatian idea, the letters, of freedom as escape from sin, the power of slavery as a sin, the idea of freedom as well. But also, the idea of the Corpus Christi as the embodiment of the civic notion of freedom, freedom in identity with the Christian community.

All those ideas, in fact, can be easily secularized. And, in fact, there’s another book I’m writing on the earliest thought of– the early modern thought, which draws heavily on these metaphors. But that, in the broadest terms, is how I [INAUDIBLE].

But I like very much some of the issues you raise. By the way, I love it– I didn’t know this quote from Ellen. I see Ellen every month. And we belong to the same society. That “Made up and made real”–

[DANIELA CAMMACK] It’s a great article.

I love it. The next time I see her, I’ll say, well, how come you hid this from me all this time. Wow, that’s fantastic. But let’s get back to the point you raised earlier of the demos. Because do you know, the very earliest– going through language– the very earliest in the European word were– of freedom, which I can’t pronounce. Maybe you can. You’re a student of language.

But anyway, it means, literally, among the beloved– we who are. And Benveniste explore this at great length. It refers to we, as opposed to them– which is often a slave– who are not. It’s an us versus them idea. So the original idea– and it does include the slaves, but it’s them versus us. And the– and I wonder if Toni Morrison knew this. That the most ancient Indo-European meaning of the word freedom is beloved– we, the beloved.

So, yes, it’s who are they, and how they are to achieve this relationship with the elite, of course, is the essence of the struggle of Greece from the 7th century, when they were virtually reduced to– they were essentially in debt bondage, a massive debt bondage in that early period, until the Solonic reforms, under the threat of revolt.

But in a way, I see dynamically as a struggle, a constant struggle between– to define precisely what demos means, and the ways in which they elite define as opposed to the way in which the mass– it’s a very fluid thing. And the different, subtle ways in which you define it, seems to me, reflects where the struggle is at at any given time.

And I find your exploration of this really intriguing. I’d love to read what you have to read about it, because as I said, I’m always open to rethinking. And so the idea of a demos as a slave, though, is simply then more the idea of– it’s the slave of God, this idea of ultimate freedom, as it was found in this– well, the question is, what is the demos enslaved to? I was just wondering


The elite– was it always the elite?

[DANIELA CAMMACK] Outside demokratia?


Yes. The argument is always– or the representation is always the demos is enslaved to the elite.


Or risks falling back into enslavement by the elite if they don’t maintain their Democratic institutions.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] I see. That, in a way, is almost an early precursor of the Augustan idea, isn’t it? Because he saw enslavement, to his genius, to his power as the sort of security of the Roman freedom. Of course, he may say there was no real freedom there. But it was that idea.

But I do find this very intriguing. [LAUGHS] I must explore it some more. But as you can see, the important thing to note is that this singular liberal notion of freedom is so sort of naive, when looked at historically.

But, OK, we can get back to–

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] I’m going to– can I just– so that we–

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] OK, sorry. I like very much the points you raised about– from the Caribbean point of view, as to what happens after slavery was, quote-unquote, “abolished.” And the notion of personhood– what kind of person could a free person be?

That was the struggle. That was the whole point of the post-colonial period, in a way. One solution is, of course, just to move away entirely from any engagement with the former colonial masters, who are now– and that was the peasantry. And the refusal to be engaged with the plantation, because the plantation meant, indeed, all the problems that you raised.

And so the Jamaicans did escape, in a way, into the present. And did recreate a kind of Afro-Jamaican culture, which was the source of much of the vitality of Jamaican culture. It’s the source– Bob Marley is a peasant before he became– grew up in the most rural part of the peasantry before he went to Trenchtown and so on. Almost everything that’s vital in Jamaican culture emerges from the group which completely removed itself from the plantation.

The plantation, on the other hand, as Edith Clarke and many anthropologists of Jamaica– remained a kind of neo slavery system. And has been traumatic for the experience. And remains so, indeed, right through to the modern times. It’s a source of turmoil, of endless violence, and so on.

And so, yes, you’re absolutely right– the question of– and the peasantry, of course, was the source of the rejection of the missionaries’ attempts to define freedom as becoming Christianized. And accepting marriages– those mass marriages which they arranged for the peasants, who refused to accept it, and threw away their rings, and developed their own form of culture.

So freedom then becomes the capacity to create one’s own culture, independently of– and it goes back to my discussion yesterday of ethnicide and genocide. They recognized slave as a form of genocide. They recognized that. And one form of expression of freedom was the fact that they suddenly started to reproduce right after slavery. But a second form was the fact that they started to recreate their own culture and a vital culture.

And those who are not in it remained, in a sense, entrapped in a kind of semi-slavery. That was the plantation. And so that’s so you’re absolutely right, the kind of person which was created afterwards, was it the ex-slaves who are going to create it or was it going to be the missionaries and the continued plantation owners? And I think there’s part success in the peasantry, in the culture.

But, of course, the other part of Jamaica was the one dominated by the continued ex-planters, and the elite, and the Brown-skinned elite, and so on. And the struggle continues in Jamaica. And you can hear it in the dance halls in the nights. It’s the ragamuffin versus the bourgeoisie. And they call them self– they celebrate their ragamuffin status as the expression of their freedom. So it’s recognized as the expression of their personhood, which drives the middle class crazy.

So the struggle still continues in Jamaica, in a way. Yeah, so you’re absolutely right. But we can talk some more about that. I think I should stop at this point, but thank you.

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] That’s a wonderful note to turn it open to the audience for questions.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Hi, I’m Dmitri. I’m a second-year history PhD student here. Thank you so much for being here and for sharing this text with us. Reading David Scott’s introduction and part of your interview, I got the sense that the freedom being discussed was primarily understood as an individual freedom, with distinctly Western origins.

And I guess, I’m curious about– I’m curious about whether– about what you– whether you see a distinction between the kind of freedom that you’re describing in your interview with David Scott and forms of collective freedom understood as freedom of a people or a community from various forms of domination? Or freedom of a people or a community to form a state or a political organization?

And I’m wondering if you think of that kind of collective freedom as different in some way? And if so, whether you also trace it to this Western lineage of individual freedom? Or can we trace other genealogies of freedom that don’t necessarily inhere in the individual?

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Yes. It’s a good point. I’m glad you raised it. I do not mean free states in the sense of independent states. Because in that sense, any independent state, even totally barbaric, tyrannical ones, can be said to be free. So no, I do not mean to use the term in that sense at all.

Because I don’t see Russia as a free state or any of the number of– or China as a free state. It’s free in the sense that it’s an independent state, but it’s– or North Korea. North Korea is free in that sense, collectively, as they constantly celebrate. But it’s freedom– I do not mean freedom in that sense.

Although, of course, the struggle for freedom does become tied into this. I prefer to use it on the social aspect of freedom. Because when I speak of freedom in the third sense, as sort of engagement with freedom in the demos, as being an equal part of the demos, there’s a collective social element in that. And it’s a very important one, by the way. And it’s one– well, it’s a source of democracy.

It’s one we’re likely to neglect. But you know something, it explains– its power is explained in what’s happening right now in America and in the populist revolt all over the world. And let me backtrack a little about how I see these three elements.

I see them– I use the metaphor of a chord, a chordal triad. And just see them interacting with each other. And that three require each other. And true freedom– true freedom, real freedom comes only where the three are working together. But the long history of freedom has been a long struggle in which different groups have tried to extract one from the other.

Elites have always emphasized freedom as power. Throughout the Middle Ages– one of my favorite example of this is the English lords in the 9th century referred to the freedom of gallows, by which they mean the freedom to execute anyone within their domain, which is an extreme form of the idea of freedom as power. And, obviously, that suits them.

They were very resistant to the idea of freedom as liberation, independence– freedom from. And, of course, the idea of freedom as a equal– basically, equality in the laws, in the social– whatever the governing social order is, and pride in that.

Now when these become separated, they can become dangerous. And in many ways, what’s happening in America– let’s look at the crazy situation, the fraught situation we’re in in America today. In many ways, the populist rhetoric is very much an appeal to that most, if you like, primeval– Benvenistian idea of the freedom as the we, the collective we, who possess this space, this political and social space, which is America– we, the people.

OK, and the fear that we, the people, are being invaded by others, who are not among the beloved– the beloved being we, white, Christian. So that’s the definition of what freedom is. It’s a real part of the history of freedom. And it’s the fear that those who are not among the beloved– the Mexicans, the Blacks, the immigrants– are going to come into us, among the beloved and– the spoilers.

That’s not new. That’s a profound and deeply rooted. And then it goes back to the demos and the attitude, if you like, of the hostility towards the freedmen in Athens. It’s remarkable that even though so much of what is great in Greece– the buildings, much of the art, the policemen, who kept order. They were all slaves and ex-slaves, for Christ sake’s, but they were never really accepted.

Even Aristotle was not accepted. That precious entity– both your parents had to be Greeks and so on. And that idea of a special community of the beloved, as well as the core of the, if you like, the social notion of freedom as we– among the beloved, we, who constitute an equal group and so on.

And it becomes dangerous when it’s separated from the other notions of freedom, it seems to me. And it’s there. I see it. And what do they emphasize? Freedom– they’re not– to say that– to say that they don’t know what they’re talking about, they know what they’re talking about. It is one element of freedom, that idea of us belonging to a community, which we share, as we are equal members, the beloved. And it doesn’t belong to them, who are not among us. That has deep, deep roots in the history of freedom.

And that’s what they mean by freedom. They’re not interested in the other two elements. They’re not interested in the liberal notion of freedom and freedom as power, which they also recognize. This is why they’re hostile to the elites and so on.

So I see this, and I scratch my head that people think that– what’s happening, of course, is a fragmentation in America of this triad. If you want to use the musical metaphor. It’s fragmented deeply in America now and in other parts of the West.

In a way, the welfare state– I don’t want to celebrate it, but one definition of the welfare state, when it works, is indeed the integration of these three notes of the chord. And it still works, in part. I don’t want to name any society as my– but when it works, it works very well. And it came very close to working very well in parts of Western Europe.

But it’s been– I see it as fragmented now. And in America, it’s very fragmented. And this is what Trumpism is all about, the appeal to the beloved. OK, so–

Hopefully we’ll get–

Sorry, moved too far.

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] Let’s take one more question and maybe another one.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] I’m going to be very brief from now on. So, please.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Hello, pardon me. Hello, my name is William. I’m a third-year PhD student in geography. As you were talking about freedom, what was coming to my mind is marronage, and particularly the gendered forms of marronage.

So I study West Africa, but also parts of the Caribbean. And what I found very interesting is when you look at gendered marronage, and you look at some of the slave narratives or dialogues, a lot of the female slaves were conceptualizing freedom, or marronage, in terms of being reconnected to family or escaping sexual violence.

Whereas, a lot of the male slaves were conceptualizing freedom of marriage in terms of the absence of chains. So it was more abstract. So you see there’s a gendered note behind marronage. And so I was interested in your thoughts on that, and gendered freedom, and gendered marronage. Particularly, you mentioned yesterday gendercide or femicide.

And the second question to this is, as you were talking, I was thinking about Trouillot’s Silencing the Past, and his comment on the Basals and the Congolese in the Haitian Revolution, and how they conceptualized freedom for them was living on the sides of mountains and having food sovereignty.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] And having what?

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Food sovereignty– farming themselves. And so I’m thinking about this gender conception of freedom, and then this almost ecological food sovereignty, as it were, and how you conceptualize or move between them in your work.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Yeah. Well, one of my early works is on marronage, the earliest history of the slave revolts in Jamaica and leading to the– often called the first Maroon wars. And Jamaica, as you know, has made a national hero of Nanny. It was one of the leaders of the Maroons. The problem is we don’t know very much about Nanny, except that she was a great leader.

And as I said earlier, I entirely agree– the peasants– with Jamaican peasants withdrawing to the hills. And developing their own peasant communities was core idea. For them, freedom meant that independence, even if it meant only a half acre of land. But they could produce– and it’s amazing to see what you can produce and how you can feed a family of six on a half acre of land. But that was freedom in every sense of the term to them– economic freedom, and political freedoms, and individual freedom.

I would need to know more. There is no doubt from the history of slavery that one of the central features of slavery everywhere was rape, the rape of women. And Frederick Douglass, in a famous passage, pointed out the worst fate which could befall a slave woman is to be even mildly attractive, because she’d almost certainly–

But rape as an essential part of slavery is now– is, I think, fairly accepted. And so for women, one can see that as critical in defining what their freedom is. And my novel, Die the Long Day, in fact draws– that was central to this theme of the novel. Because her rebellion is based on the fact that she didn’t want her daughter to be raped by the overseer.

But look, it gets more complicated in a way in which– to get back to what I mentioned yesterday– many people don’t like to talk about. Because there were tensions between those views of what freedom is. Because, unfortunately, the slaveholders’ view of freedom as domination carried over into the slave community.

Now, we don’t want to, in writing, a usable past– I don’t like that term, actually. I think it’s very Bourgeois. But you know what it means, right? OK, in writing, a usable past is great if you’re telling the truth about what exactly happened. One of the tragedies is that freedom as domination of others over whom you exercise control is carried over into the slave quarters.

The slave drivers were pretty vicious within the slave system. And men, in their attempts over women– they didn’t quite succeed– also carried over this idea of freedom as domination. I’m free to the degree that I can exercise power over anyone, whether it’s my children, whom I can beat the way I was beaten, or the women whom I can exercise my freedom over by being powerful.

And women, of course, obviously powerfully resisted this and continue to resist it. And would rather be not married, and in fact– than be married or have a relationship in that situation. And this, by the way– single parenting, started from very early, constitutes an expression of female freedom in important respects. Because they know that marriage, a continued relationship with a man, often means a carryover of the idea of freedom as power over, when for her, freedom means– freedom was in this negative sense. And in a sense of power in the sense of directing my life– empowerment.

That’s the other sort of– by the way, there’s a brutal and a benign aspect of the idea of freedom as power. The brutal aspect is just the slave masters’ view– freedom means power over. And it’s also the capitalist view– power over. My ability to buy with a stroke of a pen, dis-employ thousands of people, destroy a whole town, that’s power. And that’s freedom.

[INAUDIBLE] to have that freedom recognized, as opposed to the freedom which is empowerment. And Amartya Sen develops this idea very much. He thought he was being very original, in fact. Well, in a way, I guess he was. But in capability– he goes at great length of the notion of capability. And I keep scratching my head, and saying, OK, that’s very, very original.

But it’s the idea of freedom as power in the sense of capability, self-direction, empowerment, which women all have emphasized in describing it. Which is different from the power of power over. Power over versus power over others, as opposed to power over oneself, and so on, is the critical distinction between male and female views of freedom.

And it runs right through history. And we certainly find it in Jamaica if you talk to women, who have now given up completely on– most working-class women have given up completely on marriage for exactly this reason. And I want the power to direct myself, and I won’t get it in a relationship with a man.

So I don’t want to stray too much in this area because it gets very contentious. And people– it doesn’t gel with the idea of the usable past, which is the Bourgeois idea– if I want to have a past, which I can boast about, and which is part of the great empires, and what have you, and so on– whatever you want to call it. But the real past involves a real struggle. And it has to do with these different dimensions of freedom and what freedom really means.

But you’re right, there is a gendered view of freedom. And several people have written brilliantly on this. And I love the work of Judith Butler on this. Her work on Antigone, which, by the way, uses social death in a way in which, I must say, was more original than anything I could have thought of. I love her stuff. As she keeps saying– carry on, carry on.

This is my favorite example of Sartre’s, in his great book, What is Literature? It’s a great little book. Every person– student of literature should read What is Literature? But the central idea there is that when a writer writes something and puts it out into the world, it’s only half finished. It’s finished by the reader, who then can create with it what they want.

So Judith Butler does great things with social death, which I love. The Afro-pessimists do interesting things when they had their social [INAUDIBLE]. I’m not going to complain. Because I just retreat to the Sartrean view. Well, you’re completing it in that way. It may not be my way, but I have no claims anymore.

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] We’re almost to the final moment. So how many questions remain out there? If there’s only one, then we’ll take one last question. Or we could take two. Let’s take two together, and then you’ll get one final word. And then the rest will be finished by the reader.

Right. [LAUGHS]

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] The question I was hearing raised by Will and Dmitri in various ways was what to do with freedom in the non-modern West. And I wanted to return that to the– I thought it was a brilliant exchange between you and Professor Cammack. And especially your elaboration of the ancient, but I thought the way you took it to the reception through late antiquity was especially great.

So we know that by the time we come to the Eastern Mediterranean, later on, Islam, itself, is surrender, and it has a conception of freedom very radically. And equally, in Eastern Christianity, it’s a doulos [NON-ENGLISH], as you say, taking from Paul, but really taking that. There’s even these amazing descriptions depictions of Christ [NON-ENGLISH], the all powerful, the frescoes of God that are common in Eastern Christianity.

So the question is what to do with that? To describe it as freedom or as forms of unfreedom? And here I’m thinking, I feel like if we take your thesis seriously, and as I understood it in from the interview, and also in this exchange, these are all variations on a theme of freedom. Because in part, it is taken from ancient conceptions and elaborated in different ways throughout this history.

I would contrast that with– just because last week, we had the privilege of having Mahmood Mamdani visit. And he offered the opposite, view is– but in a way, it’s the same. That’s why I’m not sure where you stand on it.

He said that freedom and slavery are modern. They emerge together. They emerge with capitalism through modernity, in what we understand through secularization, et cetera, et cetera. And actually, in most of the world for most of the time, ie, the non-modern West, by and large, people were neither free, nor enslaved, but in various ways existing in states of unfreedom.

So for me, these are two contrasting ways of taking seriously the kinds of things we raise in discussions with Professor Cammack and with the other people. I don’t know whether to understand marronage, or Islam, or things like that as variations on freedom or as– or as varying kinds of unfreedom.

If we want to take seriously the idea that it’s in the West that freedom and slavery come together, which it seems at stake there is also your comment, Professor Rosenthal, the idea of capitalism with its clothes off, that its coexistent with modernity, and liberalism, and capitalism. It seems like that might be something we want to save.

But on the other hand, if we go that route, it seems to maintain the primacy of the West as that to which everything else has to be compared. And it seems to neglect the idea of thinking from those other perspectives. So I don’t know. I would like to hear what you have to say.

[FEMALE AUDIENCE MEMBER] I wanted to ask, in the interview that we read, there a lot of emphasis on thinking about the persistence of freedom and why the term has stuck over such a long period of time, and also thinking about it in a dialectical relationship with slavery or with the construction of the other.

So my question was in the contemporary moment, is it possible for us to shake freedom free of its dialectical connection to slavery, or the other, or the dominated through a contemporary struggle to re-articulate and re imagine the term? And if it’s not, as people who are thinking– political actors in the world today, should we turn to something else, another term, like liberation?

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Yeah, those are two great questions. And I could spend a week on each one. I know I got to be brief. But they’re really– let me start with the second one– the second question. My answer, simply, is no, we can’t. It is what it is, as Naipaul would say.

Meaning– so I do not see ideas in any platonic sense out there, which can be discovered, or either in the hearts of men and women, or out there in the platonic ether to be found. And if we don’t like that, we go find– we go searching in the ether to find something else. That’s not how ideas– ideas emerge socially, historically.

And I use– and I pointed out something I learned from Aristotle, funnily enough, about how he talks about how ideas, in a way, almost emerge from the real world, from– he didn’t use the term struggle, but I’d say from struggle. And people, in making sense of it, come up with some idea of what it is they are struggling over.

And what happens is that the wise then pick up on these ideas. And among the things they do is to imagine that they are the first to imagine it. But, in fact, it’s not. And then you have a dialect– the history of an idea then, of a thought, is the a history of that dialectic between this real people struggling over the meaning of this thing. The wise is telling them what it is, having derived it from them. And so you have two path continuing and constantly feeding on each other and reinforcing each other.

But the arrogance of the philosophical and intellectual mind is often that we were the ones who discovered it. And we can sit in our armchair, like Isaiah Berlin, and discuss what freedom is. And negative freedom is the only freedom. And no, that’s– well, that’s how philosophers do it. And they can continue to get paid to do it, so they can continue doing it when they want.

But the point is, that’s not how it works. How it works is in this dialectical way between real struggle and thinking. So the most you can do is continue the dialogue as a thinker, or also as an actor, of both. I see myself as both. And try to make sense of it and try to direct it. Otherwise, you go find some other concept which you may want to promote.

So that would be my idea– no, you can’t. We’re stuck with that freedom, with that history. And that is what it is. And we can do all kinds of tricks. We can do what liberalism tried to do, and say, it’s only the negative part and so on. We can say it’s only among the beloved, and so on and so forth. But whatever, you’re going to continue with that. Otherwise, you find– as other people have done.

And so this takes me to your first– no, I don’t– so here’s the funny– I keep getting myself into situations where I’m being confounded with reactionaries because people don’t understand the radicalism of what I’m saying. So it’s a difficult situation.

So one of the criticisms I get for being conservative is that– hey, Patterson, you are just saying that this great idea of freedom existed in the West and it didn’t exist in other– and that’s a chauvinistic way of viewing the world. Freedom existed everywhere and so on. In a way, Amartya, whom I love, and he’s is a great man, partly accused me of this. But he claims that freedom existed in India. And his example of some Muslim person who set free some of his slaves or something.

But look, to the contrary– to the contrary, I think I’m offering a very radical interpretation, not a chauvinist. Yes, it originated in the West. And no, other people have great ideas of their own. OK, whether is Nirvana or whether– whatever. Different cultures emphasize things which are central to their societies.

The irony is that people are saying– other people have freedom too. In a sense, they’ve been so bemused by the West, that they are insisting that an idea which is very Western must have existed elsewhere. No, it was diffused elsewhere.

And the Chinese are right. And by the way, this is very interesting. By the way, they’re resisting translation– someone has translated Freedom into Chinese, and the Chinese are trying to figure out whether they’re going to have it published or not– but anyways. But they have insisted, rightly– there’s a famous conference in Bangkok in 1993, after the big celebration– the idea, after the fall of the Soviet Union– you remember, freedom is triumph. Remember that?

And that’s when this fellow wrote about the last man and whatnot. And everyone thought– and so there was this celebratory conference, which the UN arranged– you’re too young to remember– in Bangkok, in which the whole world was going to come, with the mantle of the world on the [INAUDIBLE] freedom– we’re all free and lordy, lordy.

And the Chinese turned up and said, we’ve got other ideas. And a strange collection of people– the Chinese, the Singaporeans, and I think the Indonesians, and a few others, said, no, this is our idea. Anyway, we have notions of it, like the development, that getting rid of poverty as being critical to that. It was a fascinating conference. Everybody are shocked.

Because the West was so full of itself, that its idea had triumphed over the world, that it just assumed that everybody would sign on to the fact that the world is free, which is not true. And I think I’m on the side of the Chinese here. They’re absolutely right. It’s a Western idea. And to accuse me of being conservative in saying that, this is so– it’s just fascinating.

But it did evolve. And, however, the way in which it evolved is one– so while people may, on the one hand, say– conservatives may say, oh, yeah, we like that idea, that it originated in the ancient West, they don’t like the idea when I explain how it originated. This dialectic– the first– the reason why it emerged was not just the existence of slavery, but something else, which emerged first in the ancient West.

And it’s a distinction with Moses Finley– the great Moses Finley– often made, the distinction between slave society and slave holding societies. Slave holding societies exist everywhere. In China, everywhere, there are some slaves, and so on– in Africa, everywhere.

Slave society, that extraordinary thing, in which a society becomes powerfully dependent, economically, and socially, and politically on slavery is central to its existence, emerged historically– it was a historically unique event. And it emerged among the ancient Greeks for the first time. And the evidence is quite powerful.

Slavery existed long before in the ancient Near East. It existed in China. It existed in Korea. It existed in Japan. But they never became slave societies. The phenomenon of slave society emerged in ancient Greece. And I tried to trace the history there in freedom and making of Western culture.

And then, of course, in Rome it metastasized into the greatest slave society of all time, which the world has never seen– not even modern slavery. Because slavery permeated the entire system, except the army. The economy was run by slaves. You read Cicero, if you don’t believe me.

The bureaucracies were– the teachers– if you want a teacher, you go buy a Greek teacher. And the imperial bureaucracy– and even the advisors to the emperor during the Claudian section. So that system– therefore, the world had never seen anything like that before. And it will never see anything like that again. Even the modern slave societies were nothing like that, in which the system was totally permeated by slavery. That is uniquely Western.

And the important thing to note is that at all the great points in Western history, we find this perverse institution. Over and over, we find it. In ancient Greece, and then it pops up again, 500 years– then in Rome. But you know something, we think of the end of the Rome as the end of slavery. That’s not true.

Michael McCormick’s great work, of course, has abolished the whole notion of the Dark Age. It no longer exists. It’s now lit up. And I belong to an organization of Harvard called “The Science of the Human Past,” in which the use of modern science, both in archaeology, the study of the history of the weather, the history of diseases, have led us to reinterpret the fall of Rome and all the rest.

But anyway, McCormick’s great book shows that, in fact, the whole notion of the fall of Rome, and then things were sunk into quiescence. But it’s all wrong. That slavery was alive and well. In Merovingian, France, that it rose again in the 10th century.

The reason why in all of European languages, the only word– no matter what the European family of language– each has the root slav– in all the languages– is because– you should know this, because I often hear it said that one of the characteristic features of modern slavery is that it became identified with one racial group– Black people.

Hey, that’s not true. it’s happened before, at least once, with a group of people called Slavs. And that’s why whether it’s Swedish, or French, or Spanish, or Hungarian, it has the same root. And they’re a very different family of languages. Slavery, the idea emerged from– well, the Slavs were the first group.

But more importantly, when Europe rose again, and moved away from China, which is the leading– the most advanced country up to about– well, there in now, the Great Transition. But the idea then there is somewhere around 1730 or ’40 is when the West move away from China.

How did they do it? They turned to slavery. And as you know, the slavery and capitalism are twins, are essential. So this civilization is strange from this point of view. It’s the only civilization which at all its high points has emphasized slavery as central to its development.

And if you follow the history and know that, Sam Beckett and others, who are going on about slavery and capitalism, but they kind of get it wrong, in that it happened much earlier. And I wish they’d celebrate Eric Williams a little more. But it started in the West Indies.

So what I’m saying is that this is a unique history– a unique history, like nowhere else. And in a sense, that dialectical relationship between slavery and freedom is how I got to it. I blundered into it. I didn’t– it’s not a hypothesis I had. I don’t work that way.

I didn’t have a hypothesis– hey, freedom emerged from slavery. It was very grounded. It popped up there, and I couldn’t believe it, that this, indeed was the case. And it was reinforced throughout by the continued existence of slavery, or slave-like institutions, such as serfdom.

So that’s– I’ve gone on [INAUDIBLE] because I’ve been so– it’s so irritating to hear people misinterpret what I think is a very radical, critical interpretation of Western culture, as one in which I’m supposed to be sort of defending, a very traditional, conservative view of the West as being the glorifying origins of great ideas. It’s the origin of freedom, but freedom itself is an idea worth probing very deeply.

And you may not think it’s so great if you– I happen to think it is. But I think it’s important to recognize that, yes– and I’m never going to back down from this– that it is Western. It originates in the West. And to the degree that it’s found elsewhere, it’s been defused. And there the history strikes me as being very, very powerful in favor. And I find no evidence of the idea of freedom as value.

Now look, guys, the idea of freedom–

I think this is–

Just one final word. The idea of freedom is a simple one, especially the negative one. Just people must have talked about from some time or the other, but that’s not the point. The idea is that freedom as value, an essential value– that’s the point I’m making here– is unique to the West.

Every other culture– as a matter of fact, there’s one exercise you can do, especially those of you in language, which I got my students from Korea, China, and elsewhere– it’s a nice thing. Especially, you can do this at Berkeley. Get them to look at the etymology.

All languages now have the word for freedom, OK? But did not have it before Western contact. So one interesting exercise you can do is to go and search for the etymology of the word in a particular language. You’re in for a shock.

And my favorite example, of course, is the Japanese notion of freedom, which the original meaning is something like– it’s something distasteful. It means irresponsibility or something like that. In all the languages, if you go back to the etymology, it’s often seen as, eww– something– and then, of course, later on people say, oh, I see.

So I see the typical situation of a missionary having lived for 40 years in the heart of China not converted a single person to Christianity. And decide, OK, before I go back home, I’m going to write a dictionary. So you go to this Chinese peasant, and OK, so tell me what dog means or what are dogs? And what about freedom?

And he says, what do you mean? Well, freedom, it’s written in your heart, you must know what it means, or something to that effect. Well, the person will say, well, I’m not quite sure. We don’t have a word, but tell me what you are getting at. And so the missionary tells the person this wonderful word. Says, what? Oh, that sounds like irresponsibility. [LAUGHS] And one gets this everywhere.

And so the word freedom is everywhere now. But, in fact, the original response to it is really quite startling if you go back to the etymology. So, yes, it’s Western. I’m never going to back down from that. But how? And that’s a different story. Anyway, sorry.

[CAITLIN ROSENTHAL] With that bit of radical etymology, let’s thanks Professor Patterson.





Consent and Legitimacy: A Revised Bellicose Theory of State-Building with Evidence from around the World, 1500–2000

Recorded on March 9, 2023, this video features Andreas Wimmer, Lieber Professor of Sociology and Political Philosophy at Columbia University, presenting a talk entitled “Consent and Legitimacy: A Revised Bellicose Theory of State-Building with Evidence from around the World, 1500–2000.”

The talk was presented at Social Science Matrix, and was co-sponsored by the UC Berkeley Institute of European Studies, the Center for Jewish Studies, the France-Berkeley Fund, and the Department of Slavic Studies & Literature. A paper related to the talk can be found at


This research builds on the large literature that discusses if frequent international wars enhance state-building, as famously argued by Charles Tilly. It integrates key insights of that literature and a series of additional arguments into a more comprehensive and systematic model of bargaining between rulers and ruled. The model specifies the conditions under which wars are likely to build states: if there are political institutions enabling such bargaining and expressing the consent of the ruled, if the population contributed substantially to the war efforts by providing soldiers and taxes, and if rulers are legitimized either through nationalism or success at war. The paper expands the empirical horizon of existing quantitative research by assembling two measures of state development, ranging from the early modern period to the present.

Matrix Lecture

Slavery and Genocide: The U.S., Jamaica, and the Historical Sociology of Evil

On May 1, 2023, Social Science Matrix was honored to present a Matrix Distinguished Lecture by Orlando Patterson, John Cowles Professor of Sociology at Harvard University. Professor Patterson’s lecture was entitled “Slavery and Genocide: The U.S, Jamaica and the Historical Sociology of Evil.”

The event was co-sponsored by the Townsend Center for the Humanities, and the discussant was Stephen Best, Professor of English at UC Berkeley and Director of the Townsend Center.

“We organize a lot of events at Matrix, but some are very special to us, and the Matrix Distinguished Lectures are in this category,” said Marion Fourcade, Director of Social Science Matrix, in her opening remarks. “I must say it is very intimidating to introduce Professor Patterson, and not only because he was the chair of my dissertation committee. The real reason is that his accomplishments in every domain of public and intellectual life are truly remarkable.”

Patterson previously held faculty appointments at the University of the West Indies, his alma mater, and the London School of Economics where he received his Ph.D. His academic interests include the culture and practices of freedom; the comparative study of slavery and ethno-racial relations; and the cultural sociology of poverty and underdevelopment with special reference to the Caribbean and African American youth. He is the author of numerous academic papers and six major academic books including, Slavery and Social Death (1982); Freedom in the Making of Western Culture (1991); The Ordeal of Integration (1997); and The Cultural Matrix: Understanding Black Youth (2015).

In his lecture, Patterson examined parallels between two recurring horrors of history: slavery and genocide. “They’ve had separate research traditions, slavery and genocide, but I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find that the gesture of joining the two, of seeing the interaction, has come from genocide scholars, rather than slavery scholars,” Patterson said. “One would have thought that students of slavery would have been more preoccupied with this subject, but it’s been genocide scholars who have become increasingly interested in slavery.”

He outlined a definition of slavery as “a form of social death, by which I mean that it is a relation of total domination of one person by another…. Societies go to great lengths to prevent that by all kinds of means of containment. Slavery is unusual, in that it’s the relationship in which total domination, subjection of one person by another, is allowed.”

“The total domination often entails the rights of life and death, no matter what the laws say,” he explained. “There are almost no cases of the many, many instances of slaves being killed that the person [responsible] was punished.”

The slave is “never a member of the society,” Patterson said. “The slave is the ultimate outsider. They’ve been ripped from one society and brought into another, but not resocialized in that society. And the idea exists among the slaveholder class and their kin that the slave does not belong because the slave belongs to a person, and is an object of belonging to another, so they have no right to belong.”

A slave is “the ultimate deracinated person, a geneological isolate,” Patterson said. “You’re an isolated case in history, with no claims on one’s ancestry, including one’s parents, and including one’s children, who can be ripped away from you…. To think that you have no claims whatever on your children, or on your ancestors, however much you may love them, is such an abomination that I think most people just pass over it.”

He added that degradation is also an essential part of slavery. “In many cultures, especially in very honorific cultures, like the medieval Germans, the slave honor was never recognized,” he said. “If a slave woman was raped in the German honorific system, the dishonor went not to the slave, but to the slave master. The slave woman had no honor to be recognized. That has huge implications.”

Many of the same characteristics of slavery are found in genocide, Patterson said, though he noted that a definition of genocide that has been used by the United Nations and other institutions has long been disputed by scholars, who have raised questions about the role of intent in making a mass killing a form of genocide. “I didn’t know that there’s such contestation around what struck me as perfectly obvious definition,” Patterson said. “There’s the question of how many people must die for an atrocity to be considered genocide. In my view, actually, the murder of a single member of a group because of their group identity should be considered genocidal killing.

“A good example of this is the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis,” Patterson said. “This is very puzzling. White cops have been killing Black people by the hundreds over a long period of time. Why did this act generate the response that it did, not only in America, but globally? And a simple answer is that it was quintessentially genocidal. There was someone being slowly killed because they were Black.”

Watch the full video of the lecture, along with the response by Stephen Best, above or on YouTube.

You can also listen to the lecture as a podcast below or on Google Podcasts or Apple Podcasts.


Orlando Patterson: “Slavery and Genocide: The U.S, Jamaica and the Historical Sociology of Evil”


MARION FOURCADE] Hello, everybody. It is wonderful to see so many of you here in Matrix. And I know that we have also a very big online audience. My name is Marion Fourcade. I am a professor of sociology and the director of Social Science Matrix here at Berkeley.

We organize a lot of events at Matrix. But some are very special to us. The Matrix Distinguished Lectures are in this category. They have been with us since the beginning of Matrix. We organize them only once or twice a year for very special people. And the Matrix Lecture usually stays in Berkeley for a few days.

Today’s event, however, is extra special because it came together as a joint effort with our partner institution in the humanities. So before we start, I want to express my gratitude to Professor Stephen Best and the Townsend Center for helping us bring today’s esteemed guest to Berkeley.

Now, it is with unmitigated pleasure that I welcome Professor Orlando Patterson to Berkeley and introducing his Matrix Lecture and a series of events that is to follow. Now, I must say, it is very intimidating to introduce Professor Patterson, and not only because he was the chair of my dissertation committee. No, the real reason is that his accomplishments in every domain of public and intellectual life are truly, truly remarkable.

Orlando Patterson is a John Cowles Professor of Sociology at Harvard University. He previously held faculty appointments at the University of the West Indies, his Alma mater, and at the London School of Economics, where he also received his PhD. But maybe you do not know that he started out as a novelist and a quite extraordinary one at that. In fact, a critic dubbed him “The Caribbean Zola” after the publication of his first novel of Three Children of Sisyphus.

In academia, he is, of course, a scholarly giant who has written on the culture and practices of freedom, the comparative study of slavery and ethnoracial relations, the cultural sociology of poverty and underdevelopment with special reference to the Caribbean and African-American youth, and the sociology of sports, especially the game of cricket.

At Harvard, he is a beloved teacher and charismatic teacher who just finished lecture this past week to 450 undergraduates about the sociology of human trafficking. Let’s ponder that. He’s a public intellectual who publishes widely in journals of opinion and the National press too many to count.

And last but not least, he has played a major role as a policy figure in Jamaica. For 8 years, he was special advisor for social policy and development to Prime Minister Michael Manley. And then in 2021, he completed a major report on the future of public education in Jamaica.

Professor Patterson is the author of countless academic papers and six major academic books, including his classic Slavery and Social Death, published in 1982, which won the Distinguished Contribution to Scholarship Award of the American Sociological Association; Freedom in the Making of Western Culture published in 1991, and that one won the National Book Award for Nonfiction; The Ordeal of Integration published in 1997; and The Cultural Matrix– Understanding Black Youth published in 2015. And that’s among others.

The Sociology of Slavery, his dissertation and first academic book in 1967 on Black slave society in Jamaica, is now being republished with a new preface. And then, there’s another forthcoming book, which is a long and extended interview with David Scott, which is coming out as The Paradox of Freedom in a few weeks. And that will be the subject of tomorrow’s lunchtime conversation. And I hear that there are two more volumes of essays that are, of course, coming from [? Polylighted ?] Press– one on enslavement and one on culture–

Culture and ethnicity.

Culture and ethnicity and race. And then finally, on Wednesday, Professor Patterson will talk about The Confounding Island, his 2019 monograph on the postcolonial dilemma in Jamaica. And that talk will be in the Geography Department colloquium.

We could not have a better respondent to Professor Patterson lecture than Stephen Best. Professor Best is the director of the Townsend Center for the Humanities and a professor of English in Film and Media Studies here at Berkeley. He’s a scholar of American and African-American literature and culture, cinema and technology, rhetoric, and the law and critical theory. He studies the critical nexus between slavery and historiography as well as the varying scholarly and political preoccupations with establishing the authority of the slave past in Black life.

He is the author of two books– The Fugitive’s Property– Law and the Poetics of Possession published in 2004, which is a study of property poetics and legal hermeneutics in 19th century American literary and legal culture. And most recently, he published None Like Us– Blackness, Belonging, Aesthetic Life in 2019. He has also co-edited three special issues of the journal Representations titled respectively “Redress,” “The Way We Read Now,” and “Description Across the Disciplines.” And as their title suggests, the last two of these volumes tackled epistemological issues in critical theory and literary practice.

So needless to say that we are in for quite a treat today. So please, join me in warmly welcoming Professor Professors Patterson and Best. And now, Orlando, the floor is yours.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Thank you very much, Marion. I still can’t believe that our relationship goes back 30 years.


This is when I first met you. And thanks for having me over here in Berkeley. I also can’t believe that this is my first visit here. Well, my second, the first one being when I attended the graduation of my daughter. But it’s always good to start sometime.


And I’m very happy about this, happy about the engagements, which you’ve arranged. And I’m really looking forward to these discussions starting with today. So I want to examine today a subject, one of which I’ve been deeply involved with from the very beginning. As Marion mentioned, my first book, which is published way back in 1967 has been republished recently on slavery.

And I found that’s been a major preoccupation. And as the biographical dialogue, as it’s called, which is the book that’s coming out in a few weeks indicates, has been in many ways the existential and intellectual force of much of my thinking since then on freedom, the nature of freedom, on slavery elsewhere, on the problem of colonialism, and of decolonization. And also, of course, the source of my literary writings since my second novel was, in fact, based on the materials I collected in my book on slavery and thinking that this material is too good to be buried away in historical sociology. So I wrote a novel.

And today, I sense going back deeply into the subject of slavery but also the subject, which more recently, I’ve become engaged with– genocide. Of course, like all persons who engage in their society, genocide is a subject which I have always had an interest in but that of a layman. I’ve acquired a scholarly interest in beginning to, so forgive me if I am wanting in some respects in the subject.

They’ve had separate research traditions– slavery and genocide. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised to find that the gesture of joining the two of their interaction has come from genocide scholars rather than slavery scholars. It’s surprising. One would have thought that students of slavery would have been more preoccupied with this subject. But it’s been genocide scholars, as we’ll see, who’ve become increasingly interested in history of slavery.

Occasionally, scholars and stories and so on have reflected on the extent to which the two institutions, these two horrors are connected. But the issue remains contentious and understudied. I must say, the somewhat egotistical reason why I became involved when someone drew to my attention that the work of one of the really prominent genocide philosophers, Claudia Card, was brought to my attention and said that, in fact, one of her most widely cited pieces drew rather heavily on the concept of social death in her attempt to define what is distinctive about genocide.

And I’ll address that later on today. So I thought I’d returned the complement and found when I got into the subject that it’s something which I should have been involved with much earlier.

So I want to begin by summarizing what essentially slavery is all about. And everyone thinks they know what slavery is. But it’s like everyone knowing what they think they know what love is until they try to define it. Or I should say– that’s a bad metaphor. I should say what evil is until they try to define it.

I have, some of you may know, define it quintessentially as a form of social death, by which I mean that it is a– first, it’s three things– relation of total domination one person by another. This is unusual. Most people are surprised to learn this.

But total domination of one person by another, societies go to great lengths to prevent that by all kinds of means of containment. Usually, patron-client relations, of course, familial relations or what have you. There is domination. But there is some control of one kind or another.

Slavery is unusual in that it’s the relationship with which total domination of subjection of one person to another is allowed. I mean, the closest, of course, is the extreme marital relationships. And the relationship between marital slavery is disturbing.

As I pointed out in Slavery and Social Death, many of the rituals of domination in many cultures are derived from marital relationships. The total domination often entails the right of life and death no matter what the laws say. The US is typical. You’re not allowed to kill your slave. But you can– and almost every slaves were killed with impunity. And there are almost no cases of the many, many instances of slaves being killed that this person was punished.

The simple way of getting out is that you’re allowed to punish someone, punish them severely. So accidents happen. So it’s the right then of total domination including the right of life and death is one of the central points, of which very few other institutions or relationships of this kind.

Slaves, secondly, is never a member of the society. I use the term native alienation to define that the slaves are ultimate outsider. They have been ripped from one society and brought into another but not to socialize in that society.

And the idea exists in longer terms, [INAUDIBLE] class and their kin, that the slave does not belong because the slave belongs to a person, to another, an object of belonging to another. So they have no right to belong. It’s very important.

Not saying as many people have superficially claim that I am saying the slave has no relations or no community. Of course, there is a slave community and what have you. I was different. It’s important that you are recognized as a member of your community. That goes with all kind of rites of birth.

I call it native alienation for that reason. There are certain rites of birth as every society recognizes of someone belonging and are protections as a result of those rites. A slave is the ultimately deracinated person, the genealogical isolate. Because what it implies is that you have no ancestry, recognized ancestry or descendants. You are an isolated case in history and the new claims on one’s ancestry, including one’s parents and including one’s children, who can be ripped away from you.

So just think about it. It’s important to try to make sense of that idea. It’s such an abominable thought that many people just pass over that. But to think that you have no claims whatever on your children or in your ancestors however much you may love them, that is such an abomination that I think most people just pass over it for not thinking of its importance. But I spent a lot of time thinking of what that implies. Just think about it in living terms.

Finally, it’s a relation of degradation. And it’s important to recognize this too, the notion of dishonor. Slave is someone who– and their descendants, someone whom one has no respect can be dishonored, spat upon, insulted, raped without redress.

In many cultures– they were especially interesting in very honorific cultures like the medieval Germans and so on. The slave owner was never recognized. It was more the master’s honor that would recognize.

The slave woman was raped. And just the Germans, that elaborate honor [INAUDIBLE] went not to the slave but the slave master, who was the one who’s being dishonored. Because the slave woman had no honor to be recognized. That’s a huge implications.

Now, I’ve tried to bring home the idea to my fellow social scientists more recently by looking at the work of psychologists and social psychologists, who look at and try to define for us what it is to be human and what are the fundamental elements of being a human person. And therefore, for me, what social death implies is, in fact, the loss of their souls and these fundamental things.

I found Susan Fiske work some extent draws in more famously known work by Maslow on hierarchy and things. But her work, I found to be extremely valuable. And she emphasized the five fundamental motives of must love of God and needs of being human. And the most fundamental being to belong, the opposite of which is natal alienation.

Belonging, that is fundamental. And it’s the foundation, interestingly, of all the other fundamental motives or needs of being human, the fact that you belong to a community, a society of some time; relationships that are real, are meaningful, are recognized. That is a fundamental human motive. And loss of that always goes with terrible consequences for the person.

So be able to make sense of your world, the world in which we live. How can you make sense of a world in which you just think about what it involves being a slave, not owning yourself. He make a sense of a world in which you do not possess yourself, the idea of having some control, some little control and competence over one’s life.

So imagine getting up each morning. And absolutely everything you do that day is determined by someone else. You have absolutely no say in what it is you were doing that day from morning until you go to bed exhausted. And you wake up the next morning and no control whatever, to view ourselves as worthy and improvable again. And this is a fundamental one, easy to neglect, that to trust others, to be able to trust, to view the world as a place that facilitates group life, attachment, interdependence, and love.

Slavery assaults. And in social psychological terms, social death may be designed as the assault in those five fundamental motives or needs and so on and everything I’ve read about slavery in the case that that’s the case.

This denial of one’s humanity– now, again, I have to pause and say that this is how the society and the slaveholder and his people, our people define the situation. It has devastating consequences. But it does not necessarily mean that this is how the slaves view themselves.

And I’ve had a lot of problems with people who have written this nonsense about this. I mean, in fact, my very first work, Sociology of Slavery, was an attempt to understand from the slave’s point of view what this meant and how they reacted to this. And so to indicate that there was a slave community of slaves and of their children and so on is to miss the point entirely.

So genocide, I’ve tried to come to grips with what it is. The term, as you know, was coined by Lemkin in his response to the Holocaust, which he defines as the crime of destroying national racial or religious group. And as you know, the UN in 1948 defined it in more precise terms in a legally binding document, which has been ratified by over 149 states.

So in this definition, genocide involves any of the following acts– committed with the intent to destroy in whole or in part to national, ethnic, racial, or religious group; killing members of the group; causing serious bodily or mental harm to members of the group; deliberately inflicting on the group conditions of life calculated to bring about physical destruction in whole or in part; imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group– that, by the way, bear that in mind. It’s a very important one for me as the argument I make will point out that repeatedly– imposing measures intended to prevent births within the group; and forcefully transferring children of the group to another group.

So the definition become part of in general customary international law and is recognized by the International Court of Justice. However, almost every aspect of one of the elements of this definition has been contested by academics and genocide scholars. I was quite surprised.

Again, this is a– as a general educated person, I knew about the UN definition. What I didn’t know that there’s such contestation around what struck me as perfectly obvious definition. But every one of these have been contested.

One key issue is that of intent– issue of intent. So genocide scholars spent a lot of time in the world. I’ve been fascinated with this debate– to what extent is it necessary for mass killing to be considered genocide? The intent to kill.

The controversy, intellectually, in many ways goes back to Jean-Paul Sartre, who argued that there– in a way, disagreeing with that as he’s disagreeing so much. And, for example, you use the case of the American bombing and killing of thousands of civilians in Vietnam, which you consider genocide. And to argue, the issue of intent became central to the defense of America.

However horrible the bombings as you know, were and however many Vietnamese may have lost their lives, it was never the intention of America to deliberately exterminate the Vietnamese people because they were Vietnamese. What? Just because they were communists, I guess. And that genocide emerges only with the targeted slaughter of specific groups.

Another issue is the targeted killing of political groups, which, again, is generating a lot of argument with some exclude from the crime of genocide while others strongly argue otherwise. Stalin’s nationalization of land and agricultural policy, which resulted in the mass starvation death of some 5 million Russian peasants, Mao’s Cultural Revolution, which resulted in the deaths of some 30 million Chinese people are considered by many to be cases of genocide but by many more as not because partly the history of intent, partly because this is a political act.

Preventing people from reproducing especially on a mass scale is considered genocide. And I think that’s an important element as outlined in the UN Declaration. There’s also the question of how many people must die for an atrocity to be considered genocide.

In my view, actually, the murder of a single member of a group because of their group identity should be considered genocidal killing. A good example of this is the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis. So this is very puzzling.

I mean, white cops have been killing Black people by the hundreds for very long period of time. Why did this act generates the response that it did not only in America but globally? And a simple answer is that it was quintessentially genocidal.

There was someone being slowly killed because they were Black. And I mean– and I think that may happen quietly without the camera and so on. But seeing that act just brought home in a vivid way what genocide is. And this is– well, at least, that’s my explanation for the extraordinary response, was global. What was going on?

It’s that feeling, that gut feeling that this is a different kind of killing. This is genocide. It is a question of cultural genocide. But I never call it ethnocide when they use that term.

Many people who work in genocide studies are preoccupied with the destruction of a people’s culture. This is already indicated, by the way, in Raphael Lemkin’s famous and definitive study. It’s become to occupy a central place in the work of one of the leading philosophers of genocide, the late feminist, philosopher in Wisconsin, Claudia Card, whose use of the concept of social death, as I said earlier, partly responsible for my engagement with the subject.

For Card, social death is what distinguishes genocide from other forms of mass killing. This is how she sums up her argument. She says that, “The essay develops the hypothesis that social death is utterly central to the evil of genocide, not just when a genocide is primarily cultural but even when it is homicidal on a massive scale.

It is social death that enables us to distinguish the peculiar evil of genocide from the evils of other mass murder,” she claims. “Even genocidal murders can be viewed as extreme means to the primary end of social death. Social vitality exists through relationships, contemporary and intergenerational, that creates an identity that gives meaning to life.”

That’s such a lovely short definition of social death in a way. I feel sometimes that I want to use that to the summary of it. “Major loss of social vitality is a loss of identity and consequently a serious loss of meaning for one’s existence. Putting social death at the center takes the focus off individual choice, individual goals, and individual careers, and body counts, and puts it on relationships that create community and set the context that gives meaning to choices and goals.

If my hypothesis is correct, the term ‘cultural genocide,'” she said, “is probably both redundant and misleading– redundant, if the social death present in all genocide implies cultural death as well, and misleading, if ‘cultural genocide’ suggests that some genocides do not involve cultural death.”

I was just fascinated by this. They’ve already repeatedly over and over. And it’s generated a lot of argument, disagreements, and as well as complementary studies. And I see cultural and physical actions that present reproduction about a form of genocide. Indeed, this may be the worst form of genocide today.

This is another idea which I’ve become very– another evil in the world I have become very involved with and got into from my study of the problems that I’m teaching now. And it may be the worst form of gendercide today. And I refer here to the crime of genocide, which ironically, is only mildly punished in some societies. And it’s not illegal in most Western societies, including the US.

So what is gendercide? It’s remarkable that I have to define it once what it is since many have not heard of it. Most of my students in my traffic and course have never heard of the idea, even though it involves millions of deaths or at least elimination.

Gendercide refers to the deliberate killing of individuals based on their gender or the selective prevention of the birth of fetuses of a particular gender. In most cases, females are targeted. The term underside is sometimes used by some to refer to the targeted killing of males.

The UN estimates that– in the US, the United Nations is going to take this very seriously. It’s a very recent development recognizing this as a crime. The UN, which recognizes it– it began, by the way– I should give him credit. Amartya Sen was the first major scholar to really bring to attention in a now famous piece published in the New York Review of Books on it.

The UN estimates that at a minimum, there are 140 missing women in the world as of 2020. Try to get your head around that. I don’t know how many of you are aware of that. But we’re talking big numbers here.

And the deliberate intentional prevention of the birth of a hundred– or the killing in the case of pure infanticide, which goes on a large scale in many parts of the world. But mainly now of 120 million women, gendercide is– now, as you see, this is very important to the argument I made earlier. But it ties into the idea, the centrality of the idea of preventing reproduction as something I want to– if I leave one idea with you, I want to be clear– preventing the reproduction of a group amounts to genocide.

Now, the reason why is so recent is that it’s exploded somewhere about the 1980s. And the reason being– now, in history, girls have always been killed or abandoned. But the crisis that came in the Roman slave system at the end of the Republic and early empire with the Roman kings, they there no more slaves from outside. And there’s a big question of where the Romans get their slaves from. This went on for several more centuries.

And as you know, Max, there were famous discussion of this. But the wise man was wrong on that. And most of them came from abandoned [? areas. ?] So thousands and thousands of them.

So it’s an ancient practice. But it’s become far greater now than anything in the ancient world, even the Romans were– or at least didn’t kill them, abandoned them. And most of them actually got taken up and used as slaves.

With a technological development, the ability to identify the gender of the fetus– which is a very expensive proposition until about 1980s when, in fact, it became very cheap to do that. So today, for about $25, an Indian, Pakistani, or whatever woman can identify the gender of the fetus.

And then it’s made illegal in– it’s illegal in India. It’s not illegal, by the way, in the United States. But it’s made illegal in India because it became such a major issue. It’s illegal in China too, where it’s big. But it doesn’t have much effect because there are other reasons why you may find out accidentally from your gynecologist what the gender is and especially if the gynecologist knows that you are very eager to know what the gender is. He can just let it drop.

So it’s led to an explosion, Korea. And the thing is we can measure this quite accurately. This is the other interesting thing because of a demographic constant. We know the ratio of males and females’ birth in nature. And so just look at the difference between what should be the case in terms of gender ratio. And you can calculate quite accurately how many will then have been terminated.

And it’s very interesting that it’s not illegal in the United States. There is a stop gendercide clause in the trafficking clause. But not many people take it very seriously. Oh, OK.

There have been studies, as I said, of the subject. And one of slavery and genocide. But one interesting aspect of this, which I want to point out, is the degree to which the ethnocidal or cultural genocide exist.

And Card, in a sense, made it very important. But as I pointed out in an earlier slide, I prefer to maintain the distinction as much as I greatly admire all genocide and crimes involve some kind of ethnocide. But not all ethnocide entails death [INAUDIBLE].

Now, some extreme form of ethnocide do amount to genocide. And there’s the case, which is now very much in the news, the ethnocide of Native American children, which the Pope has given his formal definition of as genocide. He went to Canada. He asked forgiveness. And he defined it as genocide, which in a way taking Card’s position.

My position then is that all forms of genocide involves ethnocide. But you can’t have ethnocide without genocide. And the distinction I’m going to draw between Jamaica and the US rests on that. And I’d love to hear your response to that.

There’s been work which I’ve looked at in recent works on trying to compare slavery and genocide. As I said, it’s come mainly from genocide scholars. The basic distinction, to cut a long story short, is to emphasize that genocide involves killing people, whereas ethnocide does not necessarily involve that.

And these are some works, which I’ll skip over the details. We can talk about it in the discussion. Very good works. I mean, the work on Kaplan’s work, I found, extremely bright. It has now become a classic, Between Dignity and Despair.

And Kaplan’s one of the earliest persons to use slavery and social death because she basically argues that the period of both ’33 and ’40 or so for her constitute a period of social death of the Jews. That’s her basic argument, whereas the genocide in a sense begins with the death camps and so on. So she marked that, a significant difference.

So she’s taken the view, hey, you could call the period of the ’30s in Nazi Germany an ethnocidal one as opposed to the beginning of a genocide. And the same goes for Danny’s work on– it was “Willing Executioners,” who also uses the concept of social death to make that distinction. So it’s become almost commonplace now that purposeful killing marks the difference.

The others have disagreed such as Vessels of Evil and so on. So I can– I should mention one early work which generated huge amount of controversy which did compare the concentration camps with American slavery. And that’s Stanley Elkins’s book on slavery, which came out way back, ’59. That’s so early I used it in my thesis. So long ago, that was, right?


It’s a measure of antiquity. But Patterson wrote this thesis. That the work– what Elkins did was to argue that drawing on several accounts by survivors of the concentration camp, including several Freudians and psychologists, who have escaped the camp, he found that the descriptions of the relationship between the concentration camp inmates and the concentration camp guards was one of a utter dependence and what he called a childlike attachment.

And this target was the characteristic of total institutions– that are called total institution, total domination of one person by another [INAUDIBLE] the threat of life with the possibility of life and death. And Elkins found parallels between the spotted dependency like attachment and between the somber type personality, which is described in countless accounts of US slavery by slave owners writing about the character of the Black Americans, the stereotypes, and the psychological relation between Jewish inmates and their owners.

And the Bruno Bettelheim most famously, of course, written on this. And it drew heavily on Bettelheim’s account to claim that there is some core of truth in this [INAUDIBLE] that what total institutions reduce you to is a kind of highlight attendant’s attachment, refers to the things that some concentration camp inmates would take pieces of the inmates’ clothes or dormitories.

And so as you can imagine, you’re all too young maybe to remember the storm of controversy which came in response to Elkin’s book. And it was after being greeted with some excitement and so on. Elkins is a fine historian, I should say. It was thrown to the [INAUDIBLE] heap of historiography and never to be heard of again, except by a few curious people like Rolando Paris [INAUDIBLE].

So I mean, I– well, I had to read it from my dissertation. So I saw it. But it’s a fascinating work. And I don’t– and the criticism of Elkins– and I was part of that. A famous book came out criticizing Elkins, which is a chapter from the Sociology of Slavery, which is critical of Elkins’s use.

But my argument was not to throw it in the wastebasket. But to argue that, in fact, from my comparative study of slavery, I did find– I did find that everywhere that slavery existed, you found from the slave owners’ accounts, accounts which are very similar to Sambo all across the world. My most famous example of that comes from the Latin literature on slavery in ancient Rome.

And the Roman elites’ attitude towards their slaves summarize a perfect summary of [INAUDIBLE]. is [INAUDIBLE] Sambo. This is a reference to the typical slave, ironically, who was Greek, the Greek also. But the Romans’ description of their slaves– and it’s interesting. A racial type became identified with it– refers to the Greek slaves, who [? social ?] dominated the households and so. Was that they were Sambos. And so my argument is that, yes, this existed, quite likely, in the [INAUDIBLE]. But what does it mean?

What did it mean to the slaves? So my criticism wasn’t to claim that this is not true. This is just made up. There clearly was something in it. The question is, what was it in it? What is real in it? And my argument was– and I found, by the way, exactly similar thing and in Jamaica. It is called quashie. And as with the Roman use of the term [INAUDIBLE] using racial categories. The quashies, they have three names for the [INAUDIBLE] for slaves. And [? quashiba. ?]

And quashi was very similar in the descriptions or identical almost to [? sambo. ?] And both were very similar to [INAUDIBLE]. So what is going on in those– what are the owners trying– was this totally made up and so on?

And my argument is that it is a form of psychological warfare, if you like, between slave and slave owner, that a slave was simulating this, that a slave was making the giving the master what the master wanted to see as a way of manipulating master. But the problem is, if you play that game too often, what does it do to you, eventually.

So the trick is some. But OK, so most of the works you see here, one of the problems I have with it, including Elkins is that– well, not Elkins. Elkins is specifically related to Marcos. It takes a it to a monolithic view of slavery, that slavery varied a lot, and from one part of the Americas to another.

And the variations due to patterns of ownership, proportion of number of slaves owned by the typical owner, and manumission rates. And by the way, one important thing to remember is that American scholarship is so dominant, and that very often, American scholars end up assuming that what’s the norm in the US is the norm everywhere. I’ve been driving people crazy all over by pointing out that this kind of parochialism has got to stop.

I mean, I first noted it as a graduate student in slave studies. And when I came to the– at first reading, the established words that US slave was the norm. And so you get to work like Tannenbaum, and so on, which is sort of very concerned with why is it that the slavery in Latin America was so different from the norm. When in fact, the question was the other way around. And I mean, why would the US sound so different?

For example, in manumission, Tannenbaum wanted to know why did this Latin slave owners, they made such a high proportion of slaves. Their assumption being that the norm is very small manumission rate. It was the other way around. Most large scale slave societies have higher rates of manumission. It’s a major way of containing the system.

But anyway, so I want to use two major slave societies then. If you want to look at Jamaica and the US South as two paradigmatic systems. They’re both plantation systems that originated in the British imperialism, and the slave, all the classes, both came from Britain.

And until about 1776, they were also part of the British empire. The scale of ownership differed. The average ownership is only about 10 slaves in the US. The average in Jamaica is about 100 slaves on a typical large plantation.

In the US, the majority of people were free and white. In Jamaica, from the early 18th century from about 1710 or so, the vast majority were Black and enslaved. The slave population outnumbering the free by over 10 to 1. And Blacks outnumbering whites by 12 to 1 by about 1730 or so, and for whites who survived tropical diseases.

However, Jamaica was a source of great wealth. Jamaica was the Saudi Arabia of the 18th century. So hard to believe. More wealth was generated in Jamaica than all the 13 colonies put together.

And if you look at just the trade figures, Britain had more trade with this one little island than all of North America right up to the end of the 18th century. That’s the important [? ways. ?] A fundamental difference between the two systems was the survival rate of the Black populations.

In America, the Prada class, from very early, calculated that it made economic sense. So encouraged their reproduction of their slave population, a decision encouraged by the cheaper cost of food in the US, whereas a large free farming population and abundant land. We’ll see the kind of crops they grew– tobacco and later, cotton. Also made a reproductive slaves strategy more profitable.

This is in sharp contrast to Jamaica, where the sugar crop and slave trade led to the slave holding class to an economic calculation in which reproduction was seen as too costly and a waste of time and a waste of money and was replaced by one in which young Africans were bought, work mercilessly with little concern for their welfare. If you could keep them alive for eight years, you would not only get what you paid for them, but make a handsome profit.

Death was everywhere in Jamaican society, as I show in this sociology of slavery. And in this literary sequel, died around [INAUDIBLE]. The physical death, they tried to shun. The social death, that, they could not.

And I use the term protracted or slow moving genocide to explain the demographic and social situation of the Black population in Jamaica during the period of British slavery from 1655 to about 1830. This is not a metaphor. And it’s the data from the Atlantic slave trade database now available.

It’s possible to calculate more precisely the death rate, the death toll in Jamaican slavery using a simple counterfactual strategy. So I’m going to get to in a minute. And to do that, we need another slave society that shows what might have been possible. The counterfactual had the British proto Leviathan in Jamaica not pursue the demographic strategy of buying mercilessly over exploiting and replacing their slaves from the slave trade.

The demographic experience of the ethnocidal enslaved in North America provides such a counterfactual case. We’ve seen America as a classic case of ethnocide on a grand scale. Jamaica had ethnocide and genocide. [? We ?] protracted genocide. This is my basic argument.

There are many very good recent comparisons of Jamaica and the US. Richard Dunn, the historian, perhaps this brilliant meso-level demographic analysis of these what you call two radically different systems of action and systems in action. Why did I say [INAUDIBLE]? Thinking of [INAUDIBLE] at the back of my mind.

Wherein the Jamaican planter is treated in slate, as quote, “Disposable cogs in a machine, importing slaves from Africa, working them too hard, feeding them too little, exposing them to debilitating diseases, and routinely importing new Africans to replace those who died.” Unquote. That was the situation in Jamaica [INAUDIBLE] in the oil industry.

In contrast to the demographic growth of the enslaved in Virginia, now, to be sure, the American slaveholders were no angels. I mean, this is an economic calculation we’re talking about. All right, and in fact, there’s an easy way of showing that they weren’t angels.

If you could find a situation which they are similar to the Jamaican situation, what would they have done? And we have such a situation. [INAUDIBLE] There’s a lot of counterfactuals one can use in the study of slavery.

And one comes to the historian, Todman, who has shown that if you go to the one exception to the cotton thing down, in America, Louisiana, what were they growing? [? Pain, ?] you found a similar demographic structure similar to what you found in Jamaica. So they were merciless there, too.

And Todman did a brilliant job at that. So the reproductive choice has made easier for them by virtue of the fact that the crops in which they made their wealth was not sugar indeed. And where there were sugar planters, they acted just as viciously inhumane as in Jamaica.

Now there are arguments against this counterfactual strategy, which I considered at some length in the published version of this. And one is that epidemiological factors prevented such a reproductive strategy in Jamaica. And it’s easy to dismiss that by looking at the case of Barbados, where a similar [INAUDIBLE] society actually succeeded in reproducing their slaves.

One set of historians, the [INAUDIBLE] has blamed the breastfeeding habits of West African woman for their difference. Because West African women tend to have long periods of breastfeeding that lead to lower reproduction. It is nonsense. I mean, actually, it comes from a historian, whom I actually like very much, much of his work, and that’s Stan Engerman. But it’s a ridiculous argument.

In fact, modern studies have indicated that the long period of breastfeeding makes a lot of sense indeed, especially in a brutal environment. Because the longer period in which you are feeding the child, a long period of silence will provide more nourishment than the horrible nourishment being provided on the plantation. And perhaps, the best response is that right after slavery was abolished, the reproduction rate started rising almost immediately. African lactation practices had nothing to do with this. This is just a brutal, brutal sort of regime.

So I’m willing to go into the details of this in the discussion. But I won’t. We can talk about that later on. But the basic argument then is that this is a deliberate tragedy. Now what are its consequences? So let me just give you an idea of– one thing to note is the incredible– I’ll get back to this in a minute.

If we look at these two figures I’m going to show you. Did I missed something here? OK. The proportion of slaves who came to Jamaica as opposed to those who came to America. And it’s just staggering. Most people are just not aware of it, and they’re prepared to be shocked, to not believe what you’re seeing.

If you look at these two figures, this figure and this one here. And just take my word for it. We can go in the details. The relative proportion of slaves in the Jamaica and North America mainland between 1661, just [INAUDIBLE] before the British took over the island in 1830, which is just before the end of slavery in Jamaica.

Between 1651 and 1660, North America received far more, far, far more– far less slaves than Jamaica. And sorry, let me repeat that. Between 1651 and 1655, North America actually received far more slaves in Jamaica. But in 1655, when the British took over, we had a different story. Essentially, between 5 and 10 times more slaves were delivered in Jamaica than to North America during the six decades after 1660.

So let me just show you something here. I think maybe one way to do this is I need to get to– maybe escape here. I want to get to one behind there. So yeah, there we go. Bring it all the way. And so some of you have seen this I gather. Yep.

Thank you very much. So here, this is not a simulation, by the way. Oops. [? Better. ?] Can you help me with this thing? This is not a simulation. This is based on real data on the slave trade. And each dot is a slave ship, and it’s a real ship with real numbers.

So if I bring this up here, OK. And just look at– do you see where Jamaica is? Some of you may have gone there on holidays. And it’s up there. It’s this tiny little island here. And of course, we’re in North America is this all of this. OK.

And what I’m saying is that so many more slaves went to this little island, and it’s powerfully reflected in this diagram, in this graphic. Let’s see. [INAUDIBLE]

Mac PC battle.

So, yeah, so just look at where those little dots are going. See how few go to America? Just look at that. And they are all going there. Eventually, they start going to South America, where we’re up to about eight years, 1700. We’re at 1700. Just look at that. It shows–

And as I said, if we stop and look, we have the data on each ship and the numbers taken. It’s just a fantastic database. And so let’s carry on. Now, we’re at about 1700. And let’s go up to about 1760 or so the height of the Jamaica. Just look at that.

You see that there are [INAUDIBLE] this little island. I just find is a very powerful sort of image and so on. And it started going to Brazil and so on. But OK, thank you very much again. Yeah, thank you. Thank you.

So the last decades of the 18th century, between 5 and 10 times more slaves were delivered to Jamaica than to all of North America during the six decades after 1660, and during the last decades of the 18th century, and more than twice as many in the middle decades century. And if this figure here shows the accumulative effect in absolute numbers, between 1650 and 1830, a total– let me see– of over one million Africans were taken to Jamaica while only 388,233 Africans were taken to the United States during that entire period. Just think about that little island, about one fifth the size of California. What happened to them? What is going on? [LAUGHS]

But in 1830, at the end of the period, we find over 2 million enslaved Africans in America. And including freed Blacks, a total of 2.3 million Blacks were in the United States from that number up to 388,000 total. At the same time, only 319,000 enslaved Blacks are in Jamaica. And 357, you took into account the mixed Black population.

So my argument is very simple, one simple counterfactual one. Had Africans and their descendants experience the same rate of increase as the US? The 1830 Black population of Jamaica should have been 5.26 million. And this total, including freed Blacks, should have been a little over 6 million.

Taking account of the 359 survivors, the 9,000, in 1830, with the US then, this counterfactual, we find that there were 5.7 million missing Black people in Jamaica. And that’s the extent of the genocide I’m arguing if one accepts the fact that prevention of reproduction of the brutalization of a population to prevent them from reproducing constitute genocide. This is real genocide. And now, it’s the measure, I said, of physical genocide, in addition to the ethnocide.

So I distinguish them between two kinds of genocide, what they call concentrated and protracted. I’ll use the term concentrated genocide to explain the experience of the Jews in Nazi Germany. Protracted genocide to explain the almost 6 million people who disappeared or did not reproduce in Jamaica.

And secondly, the Jewish physical destruction is concentrated over a period of four years. In Jamaica, it lasted for 183. And in the case of the Jews, where actually living bodies destroyed, and there’s a lot of destruction of physical bodies in Jamaica, I can tell you. Lots of these are killed, beaten to death, died on the treadmill. But apart from these murders, shortened lives, we’re talking about starting lives and potential lives, which were preventively eliminated.

And in my novel, Die the Long Day– in which I went over this thing but from a fictive point of view– looking at slave plantation in a single day, in which a woman was killed at the command of the people after she attempted to kill the slaveholder, and at the funeral that the novel took place over the course of the day of the funeral. And in Jamaica, there is a custom of carrying the corpse– it’s actually the West African custom, that was, again, very, very important in Jamaica– where this was celebrated. And the corpse is carried, and people say goodbye, and bring gifts, and so on.

And so big messages back to West Africa. And what is the period of celebration? Death was a cause for celebration. Happiest day of your life. And I had a character, slightly deranged Fanti woman, and this thing I want to show you, I [INAUDIBLE].

Singing a dirge, her version of a Fanti dirge, I find a tribe in Ghana for which substantial number of Jamaicans came. And this is their dirge. “Do not say anything, O, Mother, Sister. Do not say anything. For anything you say would be too much, and nothing you say will be enough.”

And I thought, that’s very powerful. It sums up the banality of evil and the impossibility of ultimately understanding, making sense [? that ?] [? stuff. ?] Thank you.

[MARION FOURCADE] Thank you very much, Orlando, for this brilliant lecture. So we are really behind. So I hope that you will take another– we will take another 15, 20 minutes. However it takes. First of all, we want to hear Stephen’s comments, and then we will try to end this probably about 15 minutes after.

[STEPHEN BEST] Thank you, Marion. Can everyone hear me? OK? OK. Thank you, Professor Patterson, both for that amazing paper and also for traveling to Berkeley to be with us. Thank you to Marion as well for inviting me to respond. I’m really honored to respond. My auntie in Barbados is very impressed that I’m responding to the illustrious Orlando Patterson.

So Professor Patterson has given us a very thorough sort of account of his transformative work, Slavery and Social Death, a Comparative Study from 1982. I came of age intellectually during a period when that concept of social death had a huge influence on the field of slavery studies in both its humanistic and social science aspects.

And I think Professor Patterson was thinking about some of this work and his side remarks. I’m thinking about the work of Ian [? Balcombe, ?] Stephanie Smallwood, Saidiya Hartman. This is work that has often been criticized in precisely the ways that Professor Patterson has given us, conflating a kind of exposition of slaveholding ideology with a description of the actual condition of the enslaved, mistaking a theoretical abstraction that comes from a breathtaking study of 66 slaveholding societies, reducing that to a description of the life of the enslaved.

Now, Professor Patterson’s influence on my own work and thought does not lie in slavery and social death. It actually lies in a less celebrated essay that he published in 1972 that was critical of the way the legacy of slavery had shaped Black American identity. This is an essay called “Toward a future that has no past reflections on the fate of Blacks in the Americas”. More on that shortly.

So in the talk, he’s given to us today, slavery and genocide, the US, Jamaica, and the historical sociology of evil, Patterson– pardon me for referring to you in the third person or referring to you by your last name. I’ll address you directly at the very end. Patterson explores these– it just feels weird when the person is sitting right next to you, referring to them by their last name.

Orlando– OK, without being disrespectful– Patterson explores the use of social death by genocide scholars. Rather than the future that has no past, Patterson sets out to project the future of a particular past, that is he sets out to imagine how Black Jamaicans would have existed, were it not for the slow rolling genocide that was Jamaican slavery. To see Jamaican slavery as a genocidal act requires the careful stitching together of academic work on either side of the slavery genocide analogy, particularly the uses to which the concept of social death has been put in fine tuning that analogy.

The problem begins with the definition of genocide, a term coined in the mid-forties. Questions of intent, as he’s shown us, have been central to deliberations over genocide as have concerns with ethnic and political group identity and numerical measures of harm, body counts, versus the destruction of a people’s culture and community. The feminist philosopher, [? Cardia ?] Card was one of the first genocide scholars to use the concept of social death to respond to these disputes, and Professor Patterson sort of summarized her work elegantly for us.

One of the first historians to explore the connection between slavery and genocide was Stanley Elkins in the book Slavery, a Problem of American Institutional and Intellectual Life, which was published in 1959. The term genocide had only been coined in the previous decade. Certainly, the nuances of the definition of genocide hadn’t yet been worked out by academics and genocide scholars, but I also imagine that the Nazi Holocaust, at the time a matter of living memory, was for that reason hard to analogize to other experience, which might explain some of the harsh resistance to Elkins’ proposal of a similarity between the American slave and the Jewish inmate.

Whatever the case, Patterson sees a continued lack of nuance in the slavery side of the equation, asserting that genocide scholars has taken a too monolithic view of new world slavery and failed to differentiate between slavery in the US South and slavery in Jamaica. These aren’t simply types of slavery, but in some respects, the extremes, one in which it made economic sense to encourage the reproduction of the slave population, and one in which it did not. Drawing on data from the Atlantic slave trade database, Patterson asks that we entertain a clever and compelling thought experiment that American slavery is the counterfactual to Jamaican slavery.

Now, because I’m trained to think about form, and my mind comes alive when I encounter ideas with a hint of literariness, I’ll focus my comments on the counterfactual and on Patterson’s use of the form. And so my responses are specifically to the argument in the paper, the language of the paper, specifically the language as it relates to the counterfactual.

So the OED defines counterfactual statements as quote, “Pertaining to or expressing what is not in fact happened but might, could, or would in different conditions. Such statements often assume the form of a conditional assertion, which consists–” again, this is from the OED– “–of two categorical clauses. The former of which expressing a condition introduced by if or equivalent word is called the antecedent. The latter, stating the conclusion, is called the consequent.” The counterfactual is a form favored by armchair historians, those who like to speculate what would have happened to America had JFK not been assassinated, or what would have happened had Europe not vanquished Hitler.

As Catherine Gallagher observes in her recent book, Telling It Like It Wasn’t: The Counterfactual Imagination in History and Fiction, the form has a long history. It has its origins in military histories, specifically the histories of the late 18th and early 19th centuries, military histories of France and Prussia. The Prussian military theorist, Carl Von Clausewitz, one of the earliest adherents, felt that counterfactual speculation gave one the ability to gain knowledge from the past for the sake of future planning.

We’re perhaps most familiar with its appearance in fiction and popular culture, time travel narratives. One of my favorites is a novel entitled, Black in Time, published in 1970, in which Black scholars use a secret invention called the Nexus apparatus to travel back in time and confirm the blackness of certain historical figures. This, of course, anodyne project goes awry, and they start intervening in history. Some things that happen in that novel, the scholars, as they’re traveling back, intervene in the exchange of food and slaves between settlers in Jamestown, and the crew of a distressed Dutch ship, the sort of origin of North American slavery in 1619.

We also encounter the form in legal cases, particularly cases in which a broad remedy is sought. Plessy versus Ferguson, Brown versus Board of Education, Bakke versus the Regents of the University of California, all are cases that draw on the counterfactual form. The legal theorists, HLA Hart and AM Honoré, observed in their book, Causation in the Law, that the legal counterfactual tries to answer two simple questions.

First, would y have occurred if x had not occurred? And second, is there any principle which precludes the treatment of y as the consequence of x for legal purposes? Why, if everyone, from military historians to human rights lawyers, found the counterfactual useful, why take the mode seriously?

The counterfactual offers logical scenarios that self-consciously attempt to re-articulate the relation between past and present. When used to decouple the actual present from the historical past, the counterfactual can serve the ends of historical activism– assigning praise or blame to historical actors, exploring the role of human agency and responsibility in history, satisfying the ambition to shape history rather than merely record it, affording comparative assessments of history.

Alternate histories, civil rights cases, demands for reparations, international justice movements, Gallagher notes how these projects converge on the idea that quote, “To change the status quo in the present, we should try to imagine what sort of past could have led to a present we’d like to inhabit and a future we could wholeheartedly desire.” End of quote.

And in the book, Telling It Like It Wasn’t, Gallagher is very interested in different forms of the counterfactual histories, which are largely analytical works, such as histories of wars, economic crises, that explore multiple possibilities that went unrealized, alternate histories, which describe a kind of continuous sequence of departures from the historical record, and then alternate history novels, which use fictional characters to kind of flesh out the social and other consequences of alternate realities.

But all of these forms kind of adhere to what she calls a kind of counterfactual historical mode, which he defines in these terms quote, “An explicit or implicit past tense hypothetical conditional conjuncture pursued when the antecedent condition is known to be contrary to fact.” End of quote. So I apologize for providing this potted history of the counterfactual form but I think it gives us language to place Patterson’s use of the form. His use of the counterfactual isn’t clearly within any one of these categories, rather he draws on a variety of tools available through the counterfactual.

Works in the counterfactual historical mode adhere to a number of conventions. And it’s these conventions I want to use to then ask some questions about counterfactual thinking in this paper. I want to ask whether these kind of conventions apply in the case of Patterson’s counterfactual. So first convention, counterfactual history is an alternate histories, tend to deploy a discrete sense of the event, spinning out departures from the historical record based on very calculated changes to specific events, events sharply bounded in time.

Second, counterfactual list, as Gallagher observes, tend to vary events while holding historical entities constant. So they tend to assume that the entities are identical, right, the persons, the armies, the governments, in our actual history remain constant even though their destinies, the totality of what they think, do, and suffer are changed.

Now seems the right moment then to return to the slavery genocide analogy. Why does the analogy between slavery and genocide make more sense in Patterson’s formulation than it did in Elkins’? I would argue it has something to do with the counterfactual historical mode and the more recent developments in the form. Given these developments and the affinity of social and international justice movements for the form, it should come as no surprise that Patterson chooses to explore the comparison between slavery and genocide within the framework of a counterfactual thought experiment.

Interestingly, Patterson stretches the parameters of the counterfactual historical mode in ways that raise provocative questions for the kinds of intellectual work the counterfactual can do. So here’s where I address you, and not Orlando Patterson. I have two sets of questions for you, and I hope you don’t mind if I address them to you directly. The second question actually is a response to the written conclusion of your paper. So I hope you don’t mind if I read the written conclusion before I ask your question.

So the first, you expanded the time horizon of the event in the antecedent condition in your counterfactual. While the Jewish physical elimination, as you put it, was concentrated over a short period of five years– and I think we saw that in the slide– you acknowledge that the British genocide of Blacks in Jamaica took place over 183 years, quote, “In the drip, drip, drip of shortened lives and curtailed fertility.” Close quote.

You can see that in Raphael Lemkin’s classic statement of genocide, he cautions that it be viewed as a process over time rather than event. I wouldn’t dispute that. But I would like to hear you reflect on the role that big data has played in making 200 years appear plausible as an event horizon for the act of genocide.

The second question, or the second set of thoughts responds to the final page of your paper, this 183 years. So if I’ll be allowed, I’ll read that, those final two paragraphs, because they shaped how I responded to the larger paper. You wrote, “When British slavery was finally abolished in 1838, Jamaicans had experienced it for 183 years. The island has never fully recovered from the uniquely violent decimation of that first half of its history.

Dan Stone has written, ‘One of the characteristics of traumatic memory is that it cannot be suppressed at will. And societies remain scarred long after its experience.’ The prime minister of Jamaica, honorable Andrew Holness, in his 2021 Emancipation Day speech, commemorating the abolition of slavery in the island, noted that it had been 183 years since abolition. And the role that the last great rebellion of the enslaved led by national hero, Samuel Sharpe, played in bringing it about. But then, he added something with which his entire nation would have somberly agreed, quote, ‘The use of violence has followed us from our history.'” End of quote.

Today, you write, “Jamaica remains one of the most violent nations in the world as it was in the 18th century with a homicide rate that places it in the top five of all nations and a rate of femicide, the murder of women, consistently at the very top of the world’s nations. The dead yards of the nation’s slums bear ghoulish witness to the plantation dead yards of that first half of its existence. For Jamaica–” and I think you’re quoting Dan Stone here again. “–the politics of post genocidal memories are matters of life and death.”

So then my second response, where the long standing convention in counterfactual histories is to take entities to remain constant in the thought experiment while the surrounding circumstances change, the situation here seems to be reversed. The initial thought experiment– or to initiate the thought experiment, you ask that we imagine the Jamaican planter making decisions in a North American context. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

But in the long temporal arc covered by this paper, it begins to feel that the genocide of Jamaican slavery goes from being the work of Jamaican planters to that of the formerly enslaved and their descendants. From a situation in which, quote, “The demographic strategy of the Jamaican slaveholder was one of clear choice.” End of quote. To one in which, as you quote Dan Stone, “The characteristics of traumatic memory cannot be suppressed at will.”

There seems to be more than simply memory implied in the phrase traumatic memory. In quoting prime minister Holness, Holness says, “The use of violence has followed us from slavery.” Or in saying that the island has never fully recovered during the second half of its history from the violence of its first half.

Here, I would note that in Holocaust studies, a core issue has been what Pierre Vidal-Naquet calls the transformation of memory into history. The threat that the memories of the Holocaust that have sustained Jewish identity will disappear as the survivors of the genocide die. That what was initially transmitted as the horror of genocide will be passed on as the normalizing knowledge of the horror.

Your paper ends on a note that suggests the opposite to be the case in post-genocide Jamaica, the transformation of the island’s violent slave history into memory into Jamaican cultural identity. If the analogy between slavery and genocide is more secure in the wake of your argument, which I think it is, shouldn’t we be inclined to see greater similarities between the post genocidal experiences of Black Jamaicans and diasporic Jews? Or, if I may be so frank, would we ever speak of the traumatic memory of the Holocaust in this way? Thanks.

[MARION FOURCADE] Thank you very much, Stephen. So maybe we can let Orlando answer, and then if we have time, maybe for one question to satisfy the audience.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Thank you very much Stephen for the very, very stimulating insightful comments. Yeah, there are two basic issues. There were many issues, I mean, to do with the nature of the counterfactual and so on. But I want to just look at the question of protracted genocide, which I’m suggesting, distinguishes Jamaican from the concentrated genocide of the Jewish people.

And your second question, which I kind of decided to leave out. And in the end, since it can so easily lead to misunderstanding. But–


[ORLANDO PATTERSON] That’s OK. This is the paper I send. And it relates to a lot of issues, which I have with contemporary thinkers, especially in America, less so in the Caribbean. But I lead two lives, and so I’m open to suggestion, and I was looking forward very much to what people have to say about protracted genocide, that is it possible to go on over a period of 183 years?

And Lemkin, in fact, suggests that it indeed– I took some comfort from that fact. And there are many people who– peoples, other than the Black Americans, who can claim that. Certainly, North American-Indian ethnocide, was seen as a protracted one. And if we are to accept the [? Pope’s ?] identification of ethnocide with genocide, that of the North American Indians, is a protracted one, even longer than that of Black Americans. And there are other peoples who have similarly suffered. But it’s something I’m open to.

I mean, should we confine– hard talks about the body counts as being something which should be careful not to get too obsessed. One could talk about the time counts, as something which we should perhaps not get too concerned. But it’s a legitimate question.

For me, I’d say one of the important things is that there is no interlude. There is no period in which it had stopped and started again. It was a relentless continuous process, beginning with a much smaller population.

And then the interesting thing was, by the way, that the population grew but it grew entirely from imported arms. So they were importing so many and killing so many that those who were left over were enough to grow the population. But nothing as much as that of the Americans.

I also made the important point, which I didn’t have the time to get into in the paper, that in justifying the use of America as the counterfactual of that, the issue of intent is important, in that could they have done otherwise? And because, in a way, Engerman and others are suggesting, in fact, that it was the price they had to make. The environment, the diseases, the tropical diseases, and so on, the theme, the African lactation practices, and so on made it impossible for them, which I found unpersuasive.

But more importantly, the point, which I left out, is the fact that they made such enormous riches that they could easily afford to import more of the food that they did to feed the slaves, the codfish from Canada, the salted pork from America. They were importing the stuff. The recent economic indicates that the average white Jamaican was 36 times wealthier than the average North American white person.

So, I mean, they could still remain very, very rich, and, by the way, much of the wealth of Britain, which– from the work of Eric Williams, generated a good part of them, British capitalism, capitalist growth– came from Jamaica. They were fabulously rich. So it would be just a scrap, a small percentage, of the enormous profits that they are making, that they could use to import just a little more codfish and salted pork and wheat.

So we are talking about starvation. I mean, people were just dropping dead of starvation. That’s how hungry they were then. And I document this a great length in sociology of slavery. And they saw it, as for the kids, they just did not want them. And the children live absolutely miserable lives and most died, again, of malnutrition and the diseases that were [INAUDIBLE].

So and this was a continuous process. There was no letting up. It just continued right through for 183 years, in spite of all the revolts. So I feel justified in saying that this meets the definition of protracted genocide.

But I’d love to get more responses to this, to come up with a more nuanced, sort of view of this, or whether the concept makes sense at all, whether, as I said, like the body counts, It’s important, the time counts. Maybe no more than five years or 10 years or something like that. I don’t find that plausible.

But now, other point, it’s more serious because [INAUDIBLE] they see it as now. When a people have suffered oppression for many years, decades, centuries, two kinds of victimization, two kinds of damage. That very word damage of itself sort of untestable and controversial take place. There are the external powers of oppression, internal weapons of oppression and its consequences.

And as we all know, this is what [INAUDIBLE] racism and the impoverishments, this sort of [INAUDIBLE] after hundreds of years. Black Americans end up slavery with zero wealth and so on and so forth, which have consequences. And by the way, there’s now a very interesting literature emerging finally on the legacies of slavery, which is trying to quantify the consequences of slavery in a very interesting way. Now–

[STEPHEN BEST] They’re going to come back. [LAUGHS] They’ll come back for you.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Yeah, all right. I got that habit from [INAUDIBLE]. To make my point, [INAUDIBLE]. There’s also something else that goes on with oppression, and that’s immiseration, the effects of oppression on the oppressed. That is what Elkins dared to touch on and got himself in serious trouble, relegated to the dustbin of history, [INAUDIBLE].

There was a time when a few sociologists and historians did go there, including the boys, let me say. But there are others like Abraham [? Codina, ?] who did look at that. What are the effects? And you could read any number of works. I mean, all Black sociologists, early Blacks, so right down to Clark, who, as you know, was this social psychologist, who made a social science argument for Brown v Board of Education with his doll studies showing the effects of oppression on little Black kids, and why they choose white dolls, instead of Black dolls. That was part of that tradition of looking at what the consequences of immiseration.

Starting about 1970– yeah, ’70s and so. That became a huge no-no. Got tied up with [? Moynihan ?] and blaming the victim. And a major study, which came out at this time, by Ryan on blaming the victim and the culture of poverty and all the rest of it. And that all added up to one of the central prohibitions in social science, and certainly, in my discipline. And increasingly in history because the historians also began to toe the line.

You have nothing to say on the effects of oppression, on the oppressed. That’s a no-no in scholarship. That’s an absolute no-no. And there are set of swear words in terms of abuse. But anyone who dares to go there. Now, that’s America.

I don’t dare to go there, and I’ve given up because I also am very active in Jamaican intellectual life. I’ve been, for a long time, I was part of attempting to start a socialist revolution in Jamaica, a special advisor to Michael Manley. We failed. But it is a great experience. I’ve done that. I’m very much involved, and we have a rich intellectual tradition.

Now, because Jamaica is a Black society, I can go there. And indeed, I have on one of my slides, just a newspaper article just a few weeks ago talking about the legacy of slavery. And that’s where they’re going. And the talk and the violence– and when the prime minister talk about– I mean, I was quoting him. The legacy behind is going back to slave. What is talking about is the effects of oppression on the oppressed.

Now, here’s one of the big differences between America and the Caribbean, but especially Jamaica. You can’t go there in America, and none of you dare go there. And I think that’s sad. But part of the reason is– is it the white gaze or the Black Bourgeois gaze? I don’t know.

Sorry, but I’m going to get sort of little sort of controversial here. There’s the need– and about the time I published the article you mentioned, I also published another article on rethinking Black History, in which the Bourgeois voice became important and what is important in that voice. And there is some aspects of that in Jewish history, is a usable past. How do you create a usable past?

And Bourgeois historians insisting then in a reinterpretation of the past, which satisfies the need of Bourgeois historians, but which does not do justice to the facts. And so I can go on much more on this, except to say that I can say this, I rarely say this here. I can say this easily in Jamaica because, I mean, the problem, it’s not just the prime minister.

Everyone sort of sees the consequences of oppression, the immiseration and what it does. What it does, the violence of the slaveholder class against slave women sadly got replicated in a chain of oppression in which anyone who has any command over anyone else abused. And it is replicated in the abuse of men over women or of adults over children. So we still beat children in Jamaica to a degree, which is sort of outrageous.

The use of the cat o’ nine did not stop [? a ?] slave. As late as 2000, a Jamaican judge was sentencing people to 30 lashes of the cat o’ nine. As then people finally woke up, and said, oh, my God. What are we doing? And it finally was abolished. It’s still on the books. They’re just not–

So what I’m saying is it’s perhaps not possible in this North America and US climate of all the gazes. History and sociology, subject to gazing, and the white gaze the Black Bourgeois gaze, the bourgeoisie who want to have a history, which they can be proud of or the sensitivity about the past, makes certain things unsayable. And when I open my big mouth and say it I get so confused, and I it conservative.

Yeah, I go to Jamaica, and people are still mad at me for messing up the economy in the 1970s. You’re damn socialist– social support of Manley and Castro and so on. I mean, it’s only at my older age that people are beginning to be less abusive of a communist sort of wrecker of the economy in the ’70s. So it’s a funny kind of schizophrenic life I have. I mean, but I’ve gotten used to it. [LAUGHS]



[MARION FOURCADE] Thank you so much. I’m sorry, we don’t have time for a question. Well, we’re supposed to be at the restaurant at 6:15. But if you answer in one minute, Orlando. OK, so we have a question, one question here.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Thank you for coming, professor. My name is Paul [? Liam, ?] a visiting scholar in the Department of African-American Studies. I’d like to ask you about two gentlemen that you have an acquaintance with, but I’ve never seen you write about. The first one was the young constable in Kingston, Jamaica. When in November 1927, Marcus Garvey was deported from the United States there. This young constable had a gift for stenography.


I’d like you to tell us who this was and give us an assessment of his work. The second gentleman I’d like to ask you about was an African-American leader who spoke at the London School of Economics on February 11, 1965. Among the young Caribbeans, there were two young men from Trinidad, Tony Martin, who later became the Premier Garvey scholar, and a young hustler named Michael de Freitas, who is in the process of recreating himself as a Black Power leader, known as Michael Abdul Malik and Michael X.

And there was also a young lecturer there, you. Can you tell us who this visiting African-American leader was and tell us what his effect was on these students? Thank you.

[ORLANDO PATTERSON] Well, the first person referred to was my father. When Marcus Garvey was deported by the FBI having tried to start the first [? monster ?] of the revolution to Jamaica, the [INAUDIBLE] went berserk. Because here is this– that man has started– maybe– I think this is going to come to a quiet little island. So they decided the way to get him is on some form of treason. And to that, they would certainly get it from his speeches.

So they asked a young detective, who turned out to be the best shorthand person because there are no tape recorders at the time, to tail him and write down all these pieces, and eventually, they’re certain to be able to get him on subversion, treason, and so on. My father did that, and, yes, his shorthand was perfect. And so the best records of Garvey’s speeches in the world are my father’s account of these speeches.

Well, that’s not the end of the story. In the course of [INAUDIBLE], he became converted to Garvey [INAUDIBLE]. And the authorities never forgave him. They never promoted him. Eventually, he was quite radicalized, and he started a police federation union, which alienated him even more, and they kicked him out of the force. So that is the story of my dad, and I grew up with the philosophy and opinions of Marcus Garvey [INAUDIBLE].

Well, there’s far more of this in the book products. Read them. So what happens during my– again, you are to look fast forward to my new left days at the lecture in the London School of Economics. [INAUDIBLE] Malcolm X. And yes, we were very, very moved by Malcolm X.

And I was then on the editorial board of new [INAUDIBLE] review, and I remember the anxiety that [INAUDIBLE] [? Terry ?] Anderson were there. And what effects? Oh, yeah, the very powerful effects in all of us. And I was then correcting the manuscript of my thesis for the first book of sociology of slavery.

And I’d say he had a very radicalizing effect. He’s just such a charismatic person. And I would say the effect was just extremely galvanizing. And it led me to make an important decision, which is to give up my position at the London School of Economics and return home, which I did a year later. And I’ve been radical ever since, except–



[MARION FOURCADE] Those are the perfect famous last words, and I wish we could continue this, another two hours.

Thank you for coming.

Thank you for coming. Thank you so much, Orlando and Stephen, for this fabulous exchange.

[STEPHEN BEST] Thank you, Marion


Thank you.

I know. [LAUGHTER]



Social Sciences Fest

2023 Social Sciences Fest Celebrates Faculty, Staff

Raka Ray addresses the crowd
Dean Raka Ray spoke to attendees at Social Sciences Fest

On April 25, faculty and staff members from across the Division of Social Sciences gathered for Social Sciences Fest, the annual celebration of the social sciences at UC Berkeley. This year’s celebration was held at Alumni House, and all of the division’s faculty — along with their families — were invited to attend.

“This is a division that, despite being so severely under-resourced, nurtures its students like no other, produces research that matters, and produces and contributes massive amounts of service to campus, so we should take every opportunity to celebrate ourselves,” said Raka Ray, Dean of the Division of Social Sciences, in an address to the event’s attendees.

Dean Raka Ray (center) with staff from the D-Lab
Dean Ray (center) with staff from the D-Lab

Ray noted that, over the past year, the division’s faculty have won a variety of book awards, teaching awards, article awards, and other recognition. (“If I were to mention them all, I would be here for two hours listing awards,” she joked.)

She singled out a few of the more sizable achievements, including a $1 million grant to support mentoring Latinx studies and scholarship; a $10 million grant from the Hewlett Foundation to launch the Berkeley Economy and Society Initiative; a new career readiness initiative to help first-generation undergraduates to earn paid internships; and the approval of a new Master of Computational Social Sciences (MCSS) degree program.

Marion Fourcade, Director of Social Science Matrix, detailed some of the past year’s activities at Matrix, including Matrix Salons, social gatherings held at Matrix that are intended to build community among faculty members. “It’s been another really busy year at Matrix,” Fourcade said. “Our mission is to bring together this wonderful community of the Berkeley social sciences, and to stitch together the social and intellectual fabric of Berkeley, bit by bit.”

Fourcade explained that Matrix supports interdisciplinary research by providing funding to Matrix Research Teams, and by organizing a range of workshops, conferences, and lectures. “We bring the external world to Berkeley by inviting people from across the country and beyond,” she said.

Jill Bakehorn
Jill Bakehorn

Ray welcomed the division’s new faculty members, as well as those who are retiring or who earned promotions or tenure. She also recognized two faculty members with the Distinguished Teaching Award. The first honoree was Jill Bakehorn, a continuing lecturer in the Department of Sociology who “receives amazingly rave reviews from students and peers alike,” Ray said. “Despite teaching large classes, she remains attentive, accessible, and kind. And her lectures affect students beyond the classroom and their time at Berkeley.”

In receiving the award, Bakehorn dedicated the award to “the typically unsung hard work of all the lecturers at UC Berkeley, who work so tirelessly to educate and inspire the students in extraordinarily difficult circumstances, while simultaneously experiencing a lot of precarity and uncertainty in their own jobs.”

The second Distinguished Teaching Award went to James Vernon, a professor in the UC Berkeley Department of History who, Ray said, “concerns himself with making courses engaging for students, and famously offers a course on history of soccer, which ties into many relevant topics on globalization. His [graduate student instructors] feel included like they are teaching along with him and revel at the students excitement in courses that are historically difficult to get enthusiastic over.”

Professor Vernon could not attend the event, but shared his thanks through pre-written remarks. “Of all the things we do at UC Berkeley, teaching is the most important for me, and is so essential to the public mission of the university,” Vernon said. “While I delight in receiving this award, it is really an award for all of us who live in fear that we unravel in the classroom. It is an award for all of those colleagues, graduate students, and faculty alike who have taught me how to teach. And lastly, of course, it is an award for our wonderful students who never cease to amaze me — and from whom I never cease to learn.”

Department managers
All the department managers from the Division of Social Sciences received Distinguished Service Awards.

Ray awarded this year’s Distinguished Service Awards to the managers of the division’s departments, including Marianne Bartholomew-Couts (History), Serena Groen (Political Science), Joan Kask (ISSP), David Kim (Anthropology), Susan Luong (Linguistics), Josh Mandel (Geography), Alex Mastrangeli (Psychology), Sandy Richmond (African American Studies, Ethnic Studies, & Gender and Women’s Studies), Michael Schneider (Demography & Sociology), and Phil Walz (Economics).

“You incredible group of people, you deal with everything from TAS submissions to leaky pipes, from managing always charming faculty, to helping students in crisis, and you do so trying to keep everybody’s spirits up,” Ray said. “I thank you on behalf of the division — and on behalf of each of your departments.”




Additional Images


micha cárdenas: Poetic Operations and Trans Ecologies

In this talk, recorded on April 26, 2023, Dr. micha cárdenas, Associate Professor of Performance, Play and Design, and Associate Professor of Critical Race and Ethnic Studies at UC Santa Cruz, discussed her book Poetic Operations (Duke 2022), as well as her augmented reality artwork about climate justice and her forthcoming book, After Man: Fires, Oceans and Androids.

micha cárdenas
micha cárdenas

In Poetic Operations, cárdenas considers contemporary digital media, artwork, and poetry in order to articulate trans of color strategies for safety and survival. Drawing on decolonial theory, women of color feminism, media theory, and queer of color critique, cárdenas develops a method she calls “algorithmic analysis.”

In her forthcoming book After Man: Fires, Oceans and Androids, cárdenas confronts the dual crises of climate change and COVID-19, which have prompted speculation on the end of humanity. Following on the thinking of Sylvia Wynter, cárdenas considers the end of humanism not from the privileged place of posthumanism, but from a decolonial viewpoint that many of us never had the privilege to be considered human. She dwells in what comes after man, in contemporary art, science fiction, and international art biennials.

This talk was co-sponsored by Social Science Matrix, the UC Berkeley Department of Ethnic Studies, the Center for Race and Gender, and the Center for the Study of Sexual Culture. The event was organized and moderated by Professor Salar Mameni, a Matrix Faculty Fellow.

Matrix On Point

Matrix on Point: Border Crossing

Part of the Matrix on Point Event Series

Changing economic and legal circumstances alongside humanitarian crises are shifting the politics and histories of borders today, and reshaping the interdisciplinary field of border studies.

For this Matrix on Point panel, recorded on April 20, 2023, we asked a group of UC Berkeley PhD candidates to share their ongoing research on borders and migration. The panel was moderated by Irene Bloemraad, Class of 1951 Professor, Thomas Garden Barnes Chair of Canadian Studies & Director of the Berkeley Interdisciplinary Migration Initiative (BIMI), which co-sponsored the event.


Pauline White Meeusen is a PhD candidate in Jurisprudence and Social Policy. Her research interests include law and social movements, immigration law and policy, the legal profession, and border theory. Her dissertation explores whether and how attorneys and legal advocates who have served asylum seekers at the U.S. border and in detention come to see themselves as part of a social movement. As part of this project, she is bringing together immigration law and policy with border theory to explore the multi-layered borderscape in which these legal actors are embedded. Pauline received her B.A. in International Relations from Wellesley College, an M.A. from the University of Chicago, and her J.D. with a specialization in International Law from the UC Berkeley School of Law.

Gisselle Perez-Leon is a PhD candidate in the Department of History. Originally from Mexico City, and raised in Queens, NY, her research covers urban history and migration in modern Latin America. Her dissertation traces the development of public services and municipal governance in the border city of Nogales, Sonora. Prior to graduate school, she worked for the American Civil Liberties Union’s (ACLU) Racial Justice Program.

Adriana P. Ramirez is a sixth-year PhD candidate in the Department of Sociology at UC Berkeley. Her research interests lie at the intersection of migration, citizenship, Latin America, political sociology, race and ethnicity, and youth.  Her current work explores what happens when young migrants leave the U.S. to “return” to Oaxaca, Mexico.



Matrix on Point: Border Crossings


[MUSIC PLAYING] [MARION FOURCADE] Hello, everybody. Hello. My name is Marion Fourcade, and I am the director of Social Science Matrix. I am delighted to welcome you to our even today, and it’s actually one of my favorite events of the year. Every year, we try to do at least one of our Matrix on Point panel with graduate students. Last year, we had a fabulous panel on new studies in policing, and this year our theme is border crossing. So this is a panel that will examine the US-Mexico border and the mobilities of people and also things there. This is an event that is co-sponsored by BIMI, the Berkeley Interdisciplinary Migration Initiative.

But before we move on to our panel, I have a few sort of housekeeping things to do. The first is that I will announce the few remaining events as we are wrapping up our semesters here at Matrix. So on April 26, we will have Micha Cárdenas who will be speaking as part of the colloquium series organized by our faculty fellow Salar Mameni. Then on April 28, Ethan Katz, another faculty fellow, has organized an all-day symposium on Jews and others who resisted the Nazis. And then finally, the whole beginning of the week of May 1, we will have Orlando Patterson. He will give us the Matrix– he will give the Matrix distinguished lecture on May 1, and we will have also a lunchtime conversation hopefully with many graduate students on May 2nd.

Now let me introduce our moderator, Irene Bloemraad. She’s the class of 1951 Professor of Sociology and my colleague, my dear colleague. She also serves as the Thomas Garden Barnes chair of Canadian Studies at Berkeley. She’s the founding director of BIMI, the Berkeley Interdisciplinary Migration Initiative, and she co-directs the Boundaries, Membership, and Belonging program of the Canadian Institute for Advanced Studies– oh, sorry, for Advanced Research. In 2014-2015, she was a member of the US National Academies of Sciences committee reporting on the integration of immigrants into American society, so we couldn’t have a better moderator to take this panel away. And she will introduce our speakers. Thank you.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] I’m going to be doing this sitting down. I first want to thank everyone who came out for this luncheon presentation. I think you’re all in for a treat. I checked the Zoom about a few minutes ago, and we have 15 people on Zoom. So that’s a really great audience, and hopefully there’ll be some more people coming as we get started. I want to thank Marion, I want to thank Matrix for reaching out to us at the Berkeley Interdisciplinary Migration Initiative to invite us to co-sponsor this event. I really think that this event highlights what is best about Matrix, BIMI, and UC Berkeley.

So it involves cutting-edge research, interdisciplinary cutting-edge research. It highlights a new generation of scholars and teachers coming out of Berkeley the best of the best. And these scholars and presentations have really important things to say to one of the thorniest issues of contemporary politics and public policy migration. And this panel really highlights the important research with public purpose and importance that comes out of Matrix, BIMI, and UC Berkeley. So I want to thank our panelists for the work you do and for sharing it with all of us.

I am going to introduce the three speakers in the order in which they are going to speak, and I’m going to introduce all three of them so that once they start speaking, we can just move through each person. The first person who’s speaking, who’s immediately to my right, is Giselle Perez-Leon. She is a PhD candidate in the department of history. Originally from Mexico City, raised in Queens, New York. Her research covers urban history and migration in modern Latin America. Her dissertation traces the development of public services and municipal governance in the border city of Nogales, Sonora. And prior to graduate school, she worked for the American Civil Liberties Union’s racial justice program.

And then over right beside her is Pauline White Meeusen. Pauline is a PhD candidate in the jurisprudence and social policy program. Her research interests include law and social movements, immigration law and policy, the legal profession, and border theory. Her dissertation explores whether and how attorneys and legal advocates who have served asylum seekers on the US border and in detention come to see themselves as part of a social movement. As part of this project, she’s bringing together immigration law and policy with border theory to explore the multilayered bordered landscape, or borderscapes, in which these legal actors are embedded.

And then right beside Pauline is Adriana Ramirez, and she is a sixth year PhD candidate in the department of sociology. Her research interests lie at the intersection of migration, citizenship, Latin America, political sociology, race ethnicity, and youth, bringing all of those streams together. And her current research explores what happens when young migrants leave the United States to “return–” and I put that in scare quotes because, as we’re going to learn, some of them are not returning. –to Oaxaca, Mexico. So as you’ve heard, absolutely fascinating research. And we’re going to start with Gisselle.

[GISSELLE PEREZ-LEON] Thank you, everyone, for coming. Thank you to the Social Science Matrix for hosting this event, and thank you to Julia and Chuck for coordinating it as well. My dissertation entitled Border Civics, Race, Gender, and the Right to the City in Nogales, Sonora 1882 to 1970 is an urban historical analysis of the 32-mile section of the Sonora-Arizona border region known as Nogales. For the purposes of this panel, I focus on Nogales fronterizos, border residents who engage in daily pedestrian crossings at designated ports of entry.

Nogales has a history unique to its founding. In 1841, Mexico ceded a land grant to Jose Elias to establish a ranch, Los Nogales de Elias, named for the walnut trees that lined the Santa Cruz river valley. Outsiders sometimes describe the mountain pass and the surrounding desert as inhospitable for its semi-arid climate, but Sonoran communities, including the Opata and O’odham nations, long established trade and patterns of seasonal migrations through the Nogales corridor that responded to climate fluctuations, rainfall, and the flow of the Santa Cruz River.

The northernmost section of the Elias ranch became part of the US after the Gadsden Purchase in 1853. Russian-Jewish immigrants, Isaac and Jacob Isaacson, homesteaded this part as Isaacson, Arizona, and the US Postal Service renamed it Nogales, Arizona in 1883. A year later, the neighboring Nogales, Sonora declared itself the seat of a new independent municipality. Completion of the Southern Pacific Railroad in 1882 catalyzed movement of people and capital at a much greater scale.

In her oral history interview with the Pimeria Alta Historical Society, Ada Aki Jones remembers that Mrs. WR Morley, wife of the railroad’s chief engineer, drove the last spike that completed the railroad with one foot on the fender of the engine of the US side of the line and the other resting in Mexico. Most retellings of Nogales, Arizona’s founding and the arrival of the railroad are similarly vivid, and nearly all emphasized both Nogales as one shared community.

Nogales’s rise as a major port of entry in the early 20th century opened commercial opportunities not only to US and European industry investors in the mining and agricultural sectors, but also to Mexican women employed at restaurants, bars, and cabarets along the border, Chinese merchants, and other small local business owners who benefited from the cross-border traffic. Residents of Nogales, Arizona made weekly grocery shopping trips to the Sonoran city’s open-air market, even after immigration restrictions, heightened administrative requirements for border crossing cards. Border commerce was mutually beneficial to residents on either side.

I conduct most of my archival research at the municipal archive in Nogales, Sonora. Few borderlands historians consult Mexican Municipal archives relying primarily on consular reports and documentation from federal agencies. This 1926 letter from Municipal President Guillermo Mascareñas highlights some of my project’s motivations, Mascareñas’ response to a state request for statistics on regional culture throughout Mexico. The collected data would eventually be published in a national report called Mexico’s Riches.

The subject reads, “There are no traditional songs or dances in this municipality.” It goes on, “After making the necessary investigations, we have not found in the municipality songs, sounds, nor traditional dances, for in this jurisdiction, there are no existing Indigenous tribes that might have them. The Pueblo, distributed in the countryside and which makes up the population of the rancherias, as well as the city, exclusively plays songs, corridos, and rhythms brought from the state of Sinaloa, especially the Port of Mazatlan.” The city’s middle and upper classes generally play popular Mexican songs disseminated by theaters, clubs, and scores, noting the great influence of American music in addition to dances that are completely adopted and generalized.”

Mascareñas’ representation of Nogales’s cultural traditions as one simply adopted and characterized by US hybridity echoes the frustrating public rhetoric that flattens the diverse regions of the 1,954-mile international boundary into a series of abstractions, like el norte, the border, or borderlands. Meanwhile, even though the Arizona-Sonora border divided traditional O’odham lands, the removal of O’odham peoples from their ranches allowed Mascareñas to claim that no existing Indigenous tribes had influenced the culture of the area. The region was an unstable landscape for post-revolutionary nation building.

Documenting the city’s development through its municipal archive reveals that, by the 1920s, northbound labor migrations and southbound pedestrian border crossings became a matter of increasing concern to local and federal officials. Promises of employment in US agriculture or mining industries led hopeful Mexican laborers to travel by rail to the Nogales port where enganchadores, US contractors, many of whom were of Mexican descent who offered to assist potential border crossers by providing stolen or falsified documents, only had to wait each day for the train arriving with hundreds of workers and proceed to offer what were likely coercive contracts.

In 1919, Ciudad Juárez, Piedras Negras, and Nogales, all posted circulars in city streets urging laborers from the Mexican interior not to accept the false promises of enganchadores and warning Mexican nationals of the risk of deportation. Municipal presidents feared burdening already bankrupt treasuries with a growing population of returned migrants in need of public assistance. Charitable organizations in Nogales, including the Red Cross, voluntarily ran a temporary shelter known as the Salón de Engachadors, which sometimes overflowed into a nearby wash housing the local health inspector to declare the establishment a public health hazard in 1920.

Nogales city officials were constantly reacting to the problem of the border. The Nogales municipal president also worried about the impact of unfettered visits from Prohibition era Americans to Sonoran cantinas. In 1921, Francisco Ramos went as far as to temporarily declare that in consideration of the innumerable scandal stirred in the cantinas and cabarets caused by the presence of women, of whom the majority are of poor conduct and considering also that their presence constitutes a threat to morality and public order, no woman could be hired as an employee in those businesses anywhere in the city.

This postcard of the boundary marks Sonora as the wet region versus the Arizona dry. And at this point, there’s a chain-link fence in between the telephone poles. Those are placed in 1918 after a skirmish known as the Battle of Nogales. Before that, the boundary was only demarcated by obelisks, like this one. So the monument markers. The slow hardening of the border would likely spell more problems for Nogales city officials. Mexican officials fluctuated between seeing its northern regions as problematic, unincorporated peripheries, and sites of economic promise and nation building.

Both Mexican and US modernization projects of the Nogales gateway privileged ordered settlement over mobility, a characteristic which had historically defined the region. Increased border security and more imposing border structures stood at odds with the existing local economy, which relied on shared public space and drastically altered the day to day interactions of border residents. Chinese fronterizos successfully negotiated identities at the border as Chinese Exclusion in the US made it more difficult to cross for them.

In the 1890s, most Mexicans were relatively free to cross the border, stopped only for suspicions of smuggling contraband. To guard the 300-mile border with Sonora, the Nogales and Tucson customs station shared two collectors, two Chinese inspectors, and one mountain inspector. Chinese were subject to additional questioning in the 1880s, but Mexican citizenship could provide some degree of protection.

By 1911, around 35,000 Chinese had entered Mexico. Porfirio Díaz and his científicos had hoped that European immigrants would be specifically drawn to major cities and that other migrants would populate more remote regions. Half of the Chinese population who migrated to Mexico settled mostly in Sonora, worked on railroad construction, or set up shops responding to the demands of internal commercial markets.

By 1903, Chinese owned at least 10 of 37 shoe factories in Sonora, producing over $100,000 in goods each year. Lee Sing arrived in Sonora in the late 1870s before settling in Tucson where he opened a small dry goods store with his brother. They sold beef jerky, beans, and whiskey to residents of the Old Pueblo in Tucson. The store took off, and Sing was able to open up a shoe store in Nogales, Arizona as well. This business also thrived, and he decided to relocate to Sonora in 1889, marrying a Mexican woman and becoming a Mexican citizen himself.

Singh would have been accustomed to freely crossing any of the Arizona ports but faced additional questioning about his merchant status at a routine crossing in 1884. At this point, he owned three additional stores in Sonoran cities and had been a Mexican resident for 11 years. A well-known businessman, he recruited the support of Santa Ana’s municipal president along with several witnesses who filed letters and certificates of good standing on his behalf, which verified his right to free and unmolested entrance through the Nogales port. With the supporting documents emphasizing Sing’s long record of settlement, he was able to cross without further questioning for the next four years.

The protective category of Mexican citizen merchant negotiated by Chinese border crossers into the US would prove useful for Chinese-Sonorans later facing exclusion and ultimately expulsion in 1931 at the hands of the Sonoran government. In April 1916, a group of 33 retail merchandise vendors from the Nogales, Sonora municipal market submitted a request to the president of the ayuntamiento regarding three stalls in the marketplace. “We ask and beg that, inspired by the feelings of national co-existence, please determine what you deem appropriate to the effect that the Chinese who occupy the market stalls we have enumerated are transferred to Mexicans.”

They attached to their petition a memorandum from the commercial and businessmen’s junta in Magdalena. “The protection of national industry,” they wrote, “served as the foundation of progress and aggrandizement of all nations and remained among the supreme ideals of revolutionary constitutionalism.” In place of Chinese owners, the petitioners posited that the market stalls could be occupied by three or four Mexicans who support however many other families. On May 3, the ayuntamento served Chill Chong, Rafael Dan, and Manuel Long with orders to vacate their meat and produce stalls at the public market. The city council had determined that the eviction order would indeed suit public interest.

And perhaps to the surprise of the ayuntamento, the aggrieved Nogalenses knew of one avenue for redress. All three men were naturalized Mexican citizens, and as Mexican nationals, they were all entitled to recurso de amparo, an autonomous suit used to protect individuals from constitutional violations by any act of public authority. Originating in the Yucatec Constitution of 1841 and enshrined in the acta de reforma of 1857, the amparo became a widely used legal tradition available to all kinds of litigants and continues to serve as the basis of human rights law in Mexico. Chong, Dan, and Long, all filed amparo suits in the Nogales District Court against the ayuntamento of the villa of Nogales the next day.

Federal rules of civil procedure required that the authority accused in an amparo suit file a reply brief within 24 hours. The public prosecutor did not file briefs contesting the petitioner’s allegations in either case. And as a result, district court judge, Astolfo Cardenas, who would later serve in roles as Nogales’s municipal president and the president of the compañía construccíon de Sonora, the Sonoran construction company, vacated the eviction order for all three petitioners on May 6. While this was the desired outcome, the procedural victory obfuscated a real sense that justice had been served.

By failing to file its reply, the ayuntamiento implicitly acknowledged that it had no legitimate or lawful reason to close businesses owned by Chinese residents. In choosing to suit the public interest, the city council effectively excluded Chinese-Nogalenses from the urban public. So when Rafael then arrived at the [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH], the state capital, on May 8, 1916, he attempted to position Chinese-Mexicans as integral to the urban public. Representing himself and acting as [NON-ENGLISH SPEECH] for Chill Chong and Manuel Lang, he filed a grievance at the state Supreme Court detailing the events surrounding Nogales’s first exclusionary order.

“For many years, Chill Chong and I have each run our own butcher shops in the municipal market in the villa de Nogales, and Manuel Lang has run a produce stall having always paid with punctuality the diverse taxes levied on those commercial branches, complying with all sorts of administrative and police dispositions and gaining the geniality of the public for our good faith and consistency. Nevertheless, the presidente municipal of de villa has ordered closed all those establishments or business enterprises located in the aforementioned market belonging to Chinese subjects without a reasonable motive, justifying such disposition.”

What is most interesting to me about this early amparo petition is that it makes the same sort of claims border crossers made before US border officials. It offers evidence of settlement and belonging to Nogales vecinal, the local citizenry, and emphasizes their status as merchant citizens. I have yet to follow the paper trail to the Hermosillo State archives, but I suspect that I will find known attorneys on a number of amparo filings by Chinese-Nogalenses who belong to mutual aid organizations in Ambos Nogales, like the Chinese Fraternal Union, and who were trained to navigate both US and Mexican legal landscapes.

I found a handful of these attorneys in the municipal archives. So I hope I find what I’m looking for. But what I can say for now is that late 19th century fronterizos lay the blueprint and established the social and legal networks that made it possible for future Nogalenses of all identities to negotiate with state administrators in the future. I also just missed a few images. So this is just when there was no physical boundary prior to 1918. This is Calle Internacional, International street. This is also probably after an order that says that all buildings have to be at least 60 feet away from the international boundary. But prior, they were literally– you could have a beer in the Arizona side or in the Mexico side and stick it out the window and be in Mexico.

And this is the sort of community that the Chinese fronterizos of the 19th century would have been looking at. It’s a really robust, commercial community. And this is just a copy of Lee Sing’s position. Yeah? Thank you.

[PAULINE WHITE MEEUSEN] Good afternoon. Thanks, everybody, for coming, to the Social Science Matrix for hosting, and BIMI for supporting this panel. So connecting to the theme of today’s panel, border crossings, I’ll be talking today about the phenomenon of bearing witness, or as one interviewee put it, bringing the border to her community in the United States. This is based on a chapter of my dissertation. How– excuse me. This chapter of my dissertation draws on a series of in-depth interviews with attorneys and legal advocates who volunteered at the US-Mexico border in select US detention centers and in central Mexico as part of short term pro bono programs.

Rather than impact litigation, which is more traditionally considered when examining law and social change, the approach that these programs took was to combat practical barriers to asserting asylum through mass representation. Attorneys and legal advocates from all over the United States, including both immigration law experts and neophytes, would volunteer for short-term programs. Some for as short as a week, on the ground, preparing asylum seekers with their applications, preparing them for credible fear interviews, monitoring the metering process, and other tasks.

I became interested in whether these short-term experiences could be transformative and whether individuals came to see themselves as allies of the refugee rights or another movement. I found that in describing their motivations for providing direct legal services in these spaces or in describing themselves as part of a social movement, many people talked about how they needed to see the impact of immigration policies for themselves and to share that knowledge with others, what some described as bearing witness.

This chapter explores the different logics of what it means for these legal actors to bear witness in these spaces, what they were bearing witness to, and with whom they shared their experience. Among the findings, I argued that direct service legal work, despite not directly creating social change, can be transformed into a social movement tactic. Here, through the process of bearing witness.

I’m building on literature on law and social movements. The majority of scholarship on lawyer’s role in social movements focuses on lawyers impact historically deradicalizing on social movements rather than attorneys as social movement actors. In instances where attorneys are viewed as social movement actors themselves, lawyer activism has been viewed as an anomaly, specifically in response to Trumpism. However, the actions described in this research began earlier under the Trump administration– Oh, I’m sorry. Under the Obama administration.

Most scholarship on the legal profession also separates cause lawyers, those would be attorneys who work at organizations like the ACLU and are specifically working for those organizations to create social change, from people who are providing pro bono legal service, like the individuals in this study. The literature on the legal profession also de-emphasizes the potential to create social change through pro bono work. Building off Boutcher, this paper contends that the division between cause lawyers and pro bono attorneys is likely artificial and that the direct service legal work, despite not directly creating social change, can be transformed into a social movement tactic. Here, through the process of bearing witness.

The phrase “bearing witness” appears in literature across many disciplines, particularly in scholarship focused on trauma and memory with a particular emphasis on scholarship on the Holocaust. The term moves beyond the notion of being an eyewitness, seeing an event unfold, and includes an element of ethics and morality, of taking some sort of action to broaden the sphere of felt responsibility. Bearing witness inherently requires two parties, the individual that observes or experiences and the individual that receives that transmission of moral obligation.

There’s controversy around the idea of bearing witness, particularly for those who are not survivors, because of the disparities of privilege between the person observing and the observed. However, rather than, quote, “a cathartic, consumerist, feel-good moment,” end quote, some scholars argue that bearing witness acts as a corrective to the current mode of pornographic viewing of often racialized and imperial violence and suffering, because it moves beyond simply recognizing that another person is suffering and instead involves addressing and responding.

Most of the individuals in this study describe their motivation to go to these spaces to provide assistance, specifically legal assistance. And it wasn’t until they returned back from their experience that they then talked about the need to share their experience with others. There were, however, others who specifically went into these spaces with the desire to bear witness. Several individuals, particularly white allies, described how they didn’t want to be a white savior and also described grappling with the reality of their privilege upon returning home to their home community.

I’m drawing on 68 semi-structured interviews with 36 volunteer attorneys and legal advocates that were identified through niche and snowball sampling. I conducted 36 initial interviews between October 2019 and April 1, 2020 when the programs were shut down due to the COVID-19 pandemic and the use of Title 42 at the border. I then conducted 32 follow-up interviews between January 2021 and March 2021 to see whether individuals consciousness had shifted given that there were no longer opportunities for them to volunteer in person. And I’m planning to conduct a second round of follow-up interviews later this spring or summer.

The participants, as I mentioned, were individuals who provided legal assistance to asylum seekers at the US-Mexico border in central Mexico or at select detention centers between 2014 and 2021. Those 2021 participants are individuals who were already volunteering but then might have continued doing remote work during the pandemic. 24 attorneys were interviewed, including nine practicing or retired immigration attorneys.

I was particularly interested in the experiences of non-immigration attorneys because I wanted to know what drew them to doing this work. And then 12 legal advocates, meaning individuals who might have been doing the same kind of work in these spaces or assisting in other ways as translators, psychologists, et cetera, but often they ended up doing the same tasks as both lawyers and law students. I specifically did not include law students because their motivations, I thought, might be different.

So based on the data, I developed a typology of what bearing witness means in this context. Bearing witness works as a social movement tactic to raise awareness and shift the perspective of US citizens in order to create policy change, to recruit additional volunteers to participate in this work and to memorialize– to create a history and knowledge for the future to try to ensure that history does not repeat itself. It also functions as an ethical response to the US failure to fulfill its legal obligations under domestic and international law and as an ontological intervention in the face of the limits of facts and truth in an era of misinformation.

Individuals describe bearing witness to personal experiences of– to the personal experiences of asylum seekers, the human impact of border policies, and Truth, with a capital T. They were bearing witness to their personal networks, professional colleagues, policymakers, and the general public.

Laura, a white non-immigration attorney who volunteered at the border, described how she was using the knowledge she gained bearing witness to recruit others to the movement. “I wanted, I guess, two things. I wanted people to know the bearing witness piece. I wanted people to know what I had seen, not so much what I had done, but what I had seen. And I wanted to reassure people kind of normalize this, in case there was anybody else who wanted to volunteer.

I wanted them to think of themselves then as maybe somebody who could do this, so that long-term we have enough people who are more aware, better informed, more viscerally connected to this issue, that we may be able to demand the changes to the immigration system that should have been made a long time ago.”

Bearing witness also served as an ethical intervention in the face of US failure to fulfill legal obligations. Some individuals drew from their ethical obligations as legal professionals, others from a personal sense of obligation that was part and parcel of their personal identity. Sandra, a Latina non-immigration attorney who volunteered at the border and in detention, described, “If I wasn’t a lawyer and if I was just a concerned citizen, citizen of the world, and a nurse, because my background was in nursing for a long time, I probably would see things a little different, because I wouldn’t have delved into the legal side of it.

I believe that we are breaking laws. I believe we’re breaking standards and values and just the humanitarian standards for how to treat people who are detained and asylum seekers. I believe we’re breaking asylum laws, so there’s no way that I’m not impacted by what I know as a lawyer, because I’ve read about asylum laws and I know why we have asylum laws in place. I understand the Flores agreement and why we’re not going to be detaining, shouldn’t be detaining children long-term, and how so many of these agreements and rulings have been violated.”

The importance of seeing something firsthand and speaking truth to power have been particularly important in the US in the last several years because of, quote, “deep and strident polarization, mistrust of government officials, and a persistent effort to delegitimize sources of factual information and establish a post-truth political culture,” end quote. Interviewees indicated that they believed that the media, whether from the Right or the Left, was not fully capturing the realities of what asylum seekers were experiencing, whether in caravans to the US border, while in detention, or while waiting in Mexico for their asylum cases to be heard.

Joy, a mixed race immigration attorney who volunteered in Central Mexico and at the US-Mexico border, described how media reports were insufficient. “I’m very committed and very dedicated to spreading the word about what’s going on because– what I told the kids in DC, the undergrads, and I tell everybody, I’m like, ‘What, you think what’s happening at the border? It’s worse.’ And they’re like, ‘How can it be worse? We’re informed. We read the papers.’ I’m like, ‘No, it’s worse.’ The media doesn’t report it, and there’s no way that they could know how truly unlawful, irregular, and inhumane everything is that’s happening.

I think it also honors the struggle of the people that are doing it because I memorialize it for myself, and then I share it to other people and try to humanize it as well. That these are people. These are families. There was one boy. It was his birthday. He was in the caravan and living on the ground on his birthday. It was his 20th birthday. And really just to counteract, act as a counter-voice of truth when so much misinformation, especially around the caravan, this was when Trump was saying– what was he saying? Invading hordes of people and Islamic terrorists are embedded in this group, and it was so far from the truth, and really just to speak the truth in this age where misinformation is so prevalent.

In describing what they were bearing witness to, many individuals describe the specific traumatic experiences of asylum seekers, whether the persecution they experienced that brought them to the US border, abuses at the hand of border officials, or the many atrocities they experienced while waiting at the US-Mexico border for their number to be called. I’m not including any of those here, in case they’re triggering. Sandra, a Latina non-immigration attorney who volunteered at the border and in detention, described, “Many of the women that I worked with in X detention center and many of the asylum seekers in Tijuana actually would say, ‘Do people in your country know what they’re doing to us?’ Many of them would say, ‘Don’t forget me. Don’t forget. Tell people what they’re doing.’

And so I find it both to be a duty and really an honor, at the same time, to be able to tell their stories and not allow their stories to die off, because people need to know the truth of what’s happening. And so it’s just– to me, it’s critically important to keep their stories alive.”

In describing who they are bearing witness to, Patricia, a white non-attorney who had volunteered multiple times in different detention centers described her action.” “I feel like I’m bringing the border to my community sharing different presentations I’ve given on my campus or here locally in the community, or like I mentioned before, a couple of conferences that I’ve gone to to share my experience. One of my faculty friends invited me to a church group because their church is a sanctuary church for refugees or something like that, and she wanted me to come and talk to their reading group. Little things like that.

You go and talk to people who want to know more, but they also don’t know. It’s overwhelming. I’ve hardly even began to learn when there’s so much. And so much changes, and the flood of information when you don’t know exactly. So going to talk to little groups here and there or even to my students or a club on campus. Those sorts of things are ways that I can bring the border to my community.” And I’ll end there. Thank you.

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] Good afternoon, everyone. Today, I will be presenting an article manuscript titled Belonging as Acquired Code-Switching: The Experience of Young Returned Migrants in Oaxaca, Mexico. While the general public may assume that very few Mexican immigrants leave the US, the reality is that between 2005 and 2014, more Mexican nationals left the US and returned to Mexico, while fewer entered the US. Similarly, or related, in the last eight years, there has also been a 23% decline in the undocumented population from Mexico.

These people that are returning are not returning alone often. They’re part of families, and often also take their children with them. Some of them were born here in the US. Others were brought to the US when they were very young. And so this issue of return migration is especially critical when we consider that in 2010, there was an increase in the foreign population in Mexico of which 77% were born in the US. Children were an estimated 22% of foreign-born individuals living in Mexico between the ages of 5 and 14. The statistic does not include all of the Mexican-born youth that were raised in the US and that went back to Mexico.

So now Mexico, which is a traditionally migrant-sending state, is faced with the challenge of incorporating returned migrant children and young adults into their schools, economy, and national imagined community. In Mexico, with the arrival of mixed status families, the census now includes– and their definition of return migrants, individuals five years of age or older who were born in Mexico or abroad to Mexican parents. In this study, I define return migration as a process by which people migrate to their or their parents’ place of origin after residing in another country.

Yet critically, young people born in the US, obviously, are not returning to a place that they’ve never been to before. And also Mexican-born youth that left Mexico at a very young age don’t have a deep connection with the country that they’re returning to. So it is this contradiction in return migration that raises the question of belonging and membership negotiation.

So in this study, I ask, how do young return migrants settle in Mexico and negotiate membership in their communities? In order to answer this, I traveled to Oaxaca, Mexico. I can talk more about why I chose Oaxaca in the Q&A, if you would like to know. So I arrived in Oaxaca during the summers of 2015 and 2018, and I recruited young returnees using snowball sampling through conversations with various institutions that worked with migrants or with youth in general and also tour guides, Spanish instructors, vendors at various markets, basically anyone I came across.

I conducted a total of 39 semi-structured in-depth interviews. Return migrants were between the ages of 13 and 32 at the time of the interview. 24 of the 39 were Mexican-born, of which 12 were male and 12 were female. 15 of the 39 were US-born, of which nine were male and six were female. And so I found that upon arrival, young returned migrants go through a process of initial adjustment where they acquire Mexican citizenships, in this case, I included both legal and cultural, and learn to hide their US ties at the same time. This process occurs regardless of their age of return or the age at the time of the interview.

As young returnees enter adolescence or they return as adolescents, they learn to highlight their US citizenships when looking for better economic opportunities. However, it is not until young returnees enter or arrive into young adulthood that they fully grasp and discover the spaces and moments when highlighting their US citizenships for better economic opportunities is more advantageous. It is at this life stage, young adulthood, that returned migrants fully grasp this code-switching between hiding and highlighting their US citizenships, either for social belonging or for better economic opportunities.

Regardless of their age of arrival, young returnees had to acquire markers of Mexican cultural citizenship. The main markers that young returnees emphasized learning over time where language, accent, clothing, food, and gender roles. For example, Julian, who sat across from me at a coffee shop, began telling me about his painful experience adapting after a forced and abrupt return. He was deported after being offered full funding to a very prestigious art university. He was on his way to visit friends before starting his semester at this university when he was detained and deported at the US airport.

This forced an abrupt return was very challenging for him, and so he explained the transformation he had to go through over time, not just in Mexico, but more specifically, in his neighborhood in order to be recognized as part of his community and stop being mugged by those around him.

He said, “I learned what it meant to be a Mexican now, like a gun, things like that, bit by bit. I learned to listen to music from here. Uh-huh, like, I had to– I had to access my masculinity, no? Like I couldn’t be weak, or I don’t know, like, delicate. Like, I couldn’t see like that in the existing environment, and it was difficult to understand and things like that. For example, like, I couldn’t talk about art, no? And things like that. And you had to talk about new things, so I had to talk about soccer and the way I dress a bit, not much. But I did cut my hair. And at that point, I had to speak a bit differently, you know? I could not speak, like, I don’t know, my accent was weird, no? And they also don’t like that, like, the people. So I had to change my Spanish completely.”

People who have lived in Oaxaca their entire life could be assaulted in the streets, right? But to Julian, this incident signal that he was not performing the appropriate signifiers to legitimize his belonging. Like most of the respondents in the study, he mentioned adjusting his accent when speaking Spanish. However, he also illustrated that there was a very specific form of masculinity, that is, short hair, knowing about football, or soccer, being tough, that he had to embody in this new context which he did by cutting his long hair, not speaking about art, in order to belong in his new community. After making these adjustments, Julian mentioned that he was accepted into his new community and eventually became friends with those that used to mugged him.

While the masculinity men were expected to present was similar in rural and urban areas, this was not the case for young girls and women who were expected to present an even more particular form of femininity in more rural Zapotec towns where clothing was a significant part. When I visited the school in this specific town, I had the pleasure of meeting some of the moms that volunteered at the school, either selling food or monitoring the entrances to the schools. They were all wearing A-line skirts falling just above their knees– sorry, just above their ankles, pañoletas, which are some sort of handkerchiefs tied around their head, and colorful shirts with embroidered flowers or lace in the front.

Dulce was a student in this school where the moms volunteered. She was born in the US and brought to a small town in Oaxaca when she was nine years old. She told me about how girls in her community excluded her because she did not wear the traditional clothes of her town outside of school. Dulce said, “Sometimes they tell me, ‘Why don’t you wear your enredo?’ Or they tell me, ‘You’re not Mexican. That is why you don’t wear it.” They tell me, ‘You’re are a gringa.’ And I always tell them, ‘Well, no, it is simply because I don’t like wearing the dress. I don’t like it. I don’t feel comfortable.'”

Dulce’s belonging to the community not only depended on the national image of Mexico, but also the local image in community where wearing traditional clothes was an important part for her belonging. And so youth or young adults that lived in these smaller communities, not only had to navigate the national image, but also learn a specific language, like Zapotec or learn more specific markers, for them to belong in addition to the national ones. So as young returnees begin acquiring Mexican citizenships, they continue to be treated differently during social movements where their US ties are disclosed. In response to this, they learn to hide their US legal and/or cultural citizenships whenever possible.

So US respondents learn to hide their US legal citizenship soon after arriving in Oaxaca. For those that are born in the US, one way of avoiding disclosing their US ties was to avoid disclosing their place of birth or simply lying about it. This was the case for Nadia, who was born in the US, brought to Oaxaca at the age of four. During the time of the interview, she was 13 years old. We were sitting in the sidewalk of her middle school as she told me about the times that she hid her US legal citizenship to maintain a sense of belonging and moments where this was at play or at risk.

She said, “Well, when, for example, the teachers, even though I don’t want to say at first so I don’t seem a bit, like, stuck up or something like that, they ask, ‘Where were you born?’ And well, sometimes I say that I was born in Mexico so that it is not so uncomfortable.” Nadia began school in her hometown like most of her classmates that never left Mexico.

However, one main marker that differentiated her was being born in the US, something that she learned could make others uncomfortable and treat her differently or make her feel like she did not belong. Instead of always answering she was born in the US, what to most people would seem like a very simple question, right? She instead considered her options and ultimately decided to lie about her place of birth to avoid any contestation to her belonging.

Young migrants who returned to Oaxaca at an older age and who may not have US legal citizenship learn to hide their US cultural markers by intentionally getting the wrong answers in their English classes, faking a bad accent when speaking English, failing an English class, or for some, switching schools completely where no one was aware of their time in the US.

This was the case for Zoe, who was often discriminated in her middle school by both teachers and her peers. And because of this discrimination, she chose to go to a completely different high school where most of her peers were not going to go because this was considered one of the worst high schools in her town.

And so she explained to me that transition to high school. She said, “In high school, no one knew I spoke English. I went to the worst high school. There were English classes. I did not speak English. Yes, they gave me an 8–” which is equivalent to good in the US. Like a B, maybe B-minus. “–because I did not pronounce it correctly, and I, I like that more. I did not care as long as they did not bother me.” Although she had been a top student in the US, Zoe had such a difficult time with bullying from classmates and teachers in Oaxaca that she became indifferent to attending the worst high school in her town, as long as that meant being accepted by those around her.

Zoe preferred hiding her US cultural citizenship by purposely failing to respond in English or avoid calling attention to herself. While not all responders went to that length of switching schools, they definitely did hide their US cultural ties by avoiding disclosing this part of themselves whenever possible in social interactions specifically in order to prevent contestation. As young return migrants enter adolescence or return during adolescence, they begin to identify moments when highlighting their US culture– their US ties to be beneficial.

For US-born respondents, who returned before or during elementary school, they begin to see how this is advantageous, how highlighting their US legal citizenship as a birthright and an exit plan for Mexico is advantageous for them. Such was the case for Robert, a middle school student at the time of the interview who had his flight booked and ready to return to the US. When I asked him why he was going to the US, he said, “Because let’s say that here schools are not improving, and well, my mom says I was born over there. So I have to study there. So I felt that there are more opportunities over there, more opportunities than here.”

In his mind there was a clear social hierarchy where US hegemony was symbolized by education, and he understood this education as a birthright. Among US-born respondents, there was a common moral understanding of the US legal citizenship, a feeling that they should somehow contribute or make use of the privilege that that studies entails. Oops, sorry.

For young returnees that were not born in the US, when they enter adolescence, they begin identifying spaces where this strategic code-switching can help them. But it is when they enter young adulthood that they fully understand this, specifically looking for better opportunities through tourism or English schools. This was the case for Victoria. Victoria was seven years old when she migrated to the US with her parents. We met at a coffee shop during her lunch break from teaching at a private English school, a job she landed before graduating college. This was, in part, possible because of her proximity to English language culture, as she explained.

“When someone gets here, it is like, oh, it’s English. Like it makes you look superior. Maybe they do it unconsciously simply for having extra knowledge. Having a teacher that learned English at a university and maybe hasn’t left Mexico, yes, that student does prefer having someone who has had direct contact with the language and with the people that speak it as opposed to having only learned it from school. So yes, that did help me.”

Many young return migrants who lived in the US long enough easily found employment as English tutors or teachers upon their arrival in Mexico. And as Victoria mentioned, employers valued the time they were socialized in the US, not necessarily the fact that they spoke English on its own. This is what was seen, because if not, they would be valuing other students from Oaxaca that were also studying to be English teachers and know how to speak English. Thus, while return migrants highlight their Mexican or Oaxacan citizenship when negotiating membership or belonging, when looking for opportunities, they code-switch to highlight their US cultural citizenship.

Based on 39 in-depth interviews with young return migrants, I argue that Mexican-US dual citizenship both in legal and cultural sense is significant in Mexico and that it operates as a double-edged sword. On the one hand, providing opportunities for advancement, but on the other hand, impeding cultural belonging. Young return migrants learn to navigate this contradiction by first acquiring Mexican legal papers, Mexican cultural markers, gender roles, and Zapotec practices in some cases. And at the same time, learning to hide their US ties to facilitate social belonging and subsequently learning to code-switch between hiding and highlighting their US ties in order to claim social belonging or better opportunities. Thank you.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] All right, we’re going to move into the question and answer period. We had about 20 people online, and so we’ll collect questions there. But let’s start with those in the room first, because you guys came here. Questions, comments, feedback for our presenters. And do you also want to introduce yourself?

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Sure, I’m Cybelle Fox in sociology. So I have a question, first, for Pauline. In terms of bearing witness, is there anything about kind of the characteristics of the people who are bearing witness that changes what bearing witness means for them? So does race or gender or age of the folks that you were interviewing or whether they were attorneys or non-attorneys, does that change kind of their predominant kind of sense of what it means to bear witness? Did they fall in one or more of the particular categories, for example?

And then for Adriana, it seems like code-switching is something that is like an end-stage process. And I saw the case of Robert that you had at the end. It wasn’t clear to me who is he highlighting his US citizenship to, except for you the interviewer. In the snippet that you gave us, it wasn’t clear what was happening. So I’m wondering if it’s actually an end-stage process that only happens in adulthood and only for those who end up remaining in Mexico and not for those who return to the United States.

[PAULINE WHITE MEEUSEN] Thank you for the question. So bearing witness kind of traversed across these different characteristics. I think the motivation for bearing witness came from a different place for different folks. There were a few people who talked about their religious background, but that wasn’t– there were others who specifically said, like, I am not a religious person, but this is something that I feel that I need to do. And so when I kind of pushed on that a little bit to see where is this coming from, that was more like something where it might be coming from there.

Sort of it’s part and parcel to their personal identity. It might have been their family experience, the way that they were raised to kind of give back to their community. I think there was a little bit of difference in terms of race, in terms of how people perceive themselves in bearing witness just in the sense of– I would say it was only Latina individuals, most of these were women attorneys and legal advocates, there were only a few men who talked about being– that people had actually said to share their stories. That was not something that I heard from white women, that they were actually being told to share the stories. Instead, it was that they felt that was something that they needed to do.

So there was a difference there, less in terms of– like, more in terms of motivation, whether it was coming from themselves or from asylum seekers. Across, in terms of professional identity, interestingly, both attorneys and non-attorneys talked about the law. In fact, I was looking at an interview yesterday, and they said something like, I’m not the immigration scholar to talk about this. And then I was looking, and it was somebody who wasn’t an attorney. So I think that it was something that went across, whether somebody was an attorney or not.

But their legal background I think constrain them a bit in the sense that when I would question whether they viewed the system as legitimate, they would say that the immigration– that our legal system, our immigration legal system is legitimate, but that these policies were not legitimate. And I think that is, in part, because you’re talking to people who are essentially constrained to work within the system based on their profession.

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] OK. Thank you for your question, Cybelle. Yes, I think– I think the process of code-switching begins in adolescence in the sense that they’re learning when to hide it but also some moments when it is useful to highlight it. Sometimes this can happen in the English classes. In the case of Robert, for those that are planning on returning to the US, they have to, I guess, disclose it in the sense that they have to tell the school administrators and teachers that they’re going to leave.

But you are right in that the code-switching would be the end-stage of the process, right? When they fully enter young adulthood, that they begin to more appropriately code-switch depending on what they’re looking to accomplish, whether that’s gaining some sense of belonging or whether they’re at a job interview and they’re trying to highlight that they grew up here in the US. So I think it begins, but the full process is definitely in young adulthood.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] Online questions. We’ll just go ahead and read that from anonymous attendee. Thank you, anonymous attendee. What are the primary reasons the younger attorneys mask their American past? Is it just to be more accepted? Or is it about safety, bias, or other concerns? Is there any element of pride about having lived in the US or curiosity from others to hear their stories?

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] Yeah. Thank you, anonymous. The motivation for hiding, at least in these interviews that I did, was mostly based on being made to feel like another. So returnees were being– they were being made, felt like they were not part of the community in the sense that– like in one of the examples, they were called gringa, which is essentially someone from the US. Others mentioned teachers asking them to just be quiet, or sometimes they’re asked to leave the classroom. So that’s one way of being felt like you’re not part of the community.

In terms of the curiosity of someone felt pride, it’s not that I didn’t hear that they didn’t feel pride about being part of the US or having lived here. Some of them did mention that they continued to celebrate Thanksgiving and 4th of July when they’re in Mexico. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that they want to show that to everyone they encounter. So they learn to identify who they can disclose this to.

In terms of the curiosity, I’ve actually heard that more this time around in my dissertation research where some students are curious, and they ask for help, and teachers begin to rely on these students for help in the English classes. And that’s a way for them to begin to incorporate as well. Hope that answered your question.

[MARION FOURCADE] Very simple because you taunted us, Adriana. Why did you choose Oaxaca? And what does it do to you study to focus on Oaxaca? And then similarly, Gisselle, why did you choose Nogales? And what does it– in what way does it differ from other places in Sonora?

[GISSELLE PEREZ-LEON] Nogales? So I have family members that have crossed at the Nogales port of entry. And so growing up in cities like Mexico City and New York City, the only thing I knew about northern cities of Mexico, specifically Sonoran cities too, was these broad generalizations kind of, like, mentioned in the memo that I shared from 1926. So I was really interested in, what is it like for people who are no longer able to cross after 1918 to 1924? And how is the physical structure of the border shaping both its civic engagement among residents and urban development at large?

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] So I chose Oaxaca for two main reasons. The first one was that most of the return migration literature looks at either northern states of Mexico or Mexico City. So more urban, largely urban areas. And so I think Oaxaca is a perfect place to highlight that diversity within Mexico, and how a different context can potentially create different situations and experiences for people that are returning there. And then the second reason is that Oaxaca is the state with the highest percentage of returnees in rural areas. So while some literature has shown us that in Mexico City there’s a lot of returnees that maybe work at call centers, we know less about what is happening in smaller towns. And so that’s why I chose Oaxaca.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Hi, Adriana. Great question. Did Nadia explain why she would be perceived as stuck up, if she would disclose that she is a US citizen? And if she didn’t, do you have an idea?

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] She didn’t fully disclose why, and this is something that is also coming up a lot more in my dissertation interviews where people say they don’t want to seem presumido or presumida, like, stuck up. And I think that has to do with the power relationship between the US and Mexico, right? If they were coming from maybe Chile or another country that doesn’t carry the same power relationship with Mexico, I think it might be a little different, right?

And showing that you lived in the US in a blunt way, at least from the people that I interviewed, didn’t seem to come across in a positive way to people that were from that community, right? Especially in Oaxaca where, well, maybe even all of Mexico where there’s a lot of regional pride in the culture that they have there. I think that also creates some tension.

[GISSELLE PEREZ-LEON] What makes the Nogales port of entry different from other areas? In contrast to El Paso-Juárez, it’s a land border. It’s also less than an hour south of the Salazar Reservation, which has its own San Gabriel border too. It’s the largest port of entry in Arizona, has the most pedestrian crossings in Arizona, but it is the third most frequented border to Tijuana and Ciudad Juárez. So that gives me a nice opportunity just to see migratory networks from Guaymas in the Central Valley of Sonora through the Yucca Valley region. So those are the more practical reasons as well, yeah.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] Let’s go to Isaac, and then we have a few questions online.

[AUDIENCE MEMBER] Thank you. Yeah, thank you for this presentation. This is wonderful. My name’s Isaac. I’m in the sociology department, and I have another set of questions for Gisselle and Adriana. So I think, for Adriana, I’d love to hear a little bit more about the relationship between cultural citizenship and legal citizenship. I couldn’t tell within the presentation how these– do they work in parallel? Or are there ways in which they work against each other? It seemed like perhaps cultural citizenship may have been more important than the day lived experience. I wonder if you could elaborate a little bit on that.

And then, for Giselle, I’m curious about that you said that a major preoccupation for the town of Nogales was the problem of the border. That it was always a problem in some way or another. I’m curious about, like, if you could talk a little bit more about specifically what the problem was and how it changed over that time period, like, over the close to 100 years that you were looking at. So yeah, thank you.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] And quickly insert a question for Pauline because I’m looking at the time, and so we might just have time to go through the panel once more. Pauline, I wanted to know more about the person who saw bearing witness as almost a social movement tactic to increase volunteering. Did that actually work? I would have thought that maybe the reaction would have been, oh, my gosh, this sounds so horrendous, and it would actually not be a recruiting tactic. Why don’t we go this way down the line?

[GISSELLE PEREZ-LEON] So in terms of the problem, it doesn’t become a problem until there’s a physical boundary, and after the Mexican Revolution too, when revolutionary violence along the border heightened sort of political tensions in the area. The main problem I would say– so I look at it from an urban studies perspective. One of them is ordering public space, and sort of this idea of clean streets are what Mexico should be showing to its northern neighbor. So public plazas that are free of urban dwellers that are unhoused or are seen as transient is a huge problem for the municipality.

The second is that the municipal treasuries are in debt and see border crossers and migrants as potential financial burdens to the city. So yeah, and I think that explains a lot of the 1964 investments in the physical structure of the border. So that first picture that you saw is the postcard. So much money is invested in– Mario Pani, who’s a modernist Mexican architect, he’s contracted, never sets foot in Nogales prior to the project. But it’s a big show basically. Yeah, I hope that answers.

[PAULINE WHITE MEEUSEN] So just in answering your question about the idea of recruitment. I think that while there was kind of it could cut both ways, but most of what I was seeing was that it was more likely to recruit individuals because people felt like they would feel more safe. This was particularly for people who were not coming from border regions in the United States. They might have lived in the midwest or something like that, and so were not so familiar with these areas. And so it also– so like, that they could do it. That you can do this. I did this. You’ll be fine.

But also I think when you’re talking about attorney networks, it was also about sort of, like, that these are the stakes of what’s going on. And so it’s really important. And you don’t have to be an immigration attorney. I’m not an immigration attorney. I do insurance law, I mean, for example. So you don’t need to know about this. They’ll train you how to do this, and this is an urgent request. And because you are an attorney, they’re like, you can do this. So that’s kind of a sense of thing.

[ADRIANA RAMIREZ] All right, so thank you, Isaac, for your question. So you ask what the relationship between legal and cultural citizenship is or was. I approached this project assuming cultural citizenship would be the most important part, when on the ground, right? That’s what you would expect. You wouldn’t expect the legal one to really play that big of a role. And then what I presented today, I didn’t present on everything that the young return migrants are acquiring. Part of that is for the US-born Mexican legal citizenship, which some might assume to be a straightforward process, because if their parents were born in Mexico, then by law, they should have double citizenship. But on the ground, it turns out to be a much more complicated process.

And so it turns out that legal citizenship also is important in the sense that some of them are– some US-born are living in Oaxaca, quote unquote, “illegally” in the sense that they’ve been there more than the six months that are allowed by law. But there’s some loopholes that the administrators find to enroll the students in school, and it doesn’t seem to be much of a problem until they reach the transition to high school. And at that point, they really do need that double citizenship in order to obtain the equivalent to a Social Security number that then allows them to exist as a person legally in the school, or else all the work that they’re doing is not really counting for anything.

So it matters in that way, but it also matters in what I talked about today in that legal citizenship is directly tied to place of birth. And so that also becomes– that also becomes a way of working with cultural citizenship, right? Where you asked if they are working against each other or in unison. I think at certain parts, they’re working in unison, right? When they can both align and not show anything that might have them be questioned. But they might work against each other in moments where maybe they’re lacking one or the other, right? That’s a good question. I need to think about it a little bit more.

[IRENE BLOEMRAAD] All right, I’m going to apologize for the people online who sent in their questions and assure them that we will share the questions with the panelists. Adriana, there was a question about skin tone and connection to indigeneity, but we’ll follow up with you, and another one about comparative studies. But thank you, everyone, who attended in-person. Thank you everyone who joined us in line– online. And also I’d ask everyone to thank our panelists for these truly amazing presentations and research. And I’m going to– I’m going to do Marion’s job and say, make sure you come back for the extra Matrix events, especially the Orlando Patterson week.

Affiliated Centers

Reshaping City Politics? Asian Voters’ Demands for Change in San Francisco and Vancouver

Presented by the Citrin Center for Public Opinion Research

In 2022, Asian voters shocked the political establishment in San Francisco and Vancouver. In Vancouver, frustrated voters voted out the City’s Mayor and City Council to elect the first Canadian-Chinese mayor Ken Sim and deliver his party a majority on the City Council. In San Francisco, voters supported two historic recalls of the City’s District Attorney Chesa Boudin and three members of its Board of Education. In both cities, Asian voters were a key constituency in support of these political earthquakes. What led to these historic events, and are they the start of a trend?

Presented by UC Berkeley’s Citrin Center for Public Opinion Research, this panel featured insiders from both cities, including Ken Sim’s campaign manager, a leader from Vancouver’s Canadian-Chinese community, a leader in the San Francisco school board recall campaign who was appointed to the school board herself, and scholar Neil Malhotra. The panel was moderated by Citrin Center-affiliated faculty David Broockman.


Kareem Allam, Former Campaign Director, Ken Sim for Mayor and Partner, Fairview Strategy
Ann Hsu, Former San Francisco School Board Commissioner and Founder & Head of School, Bert Hsu Academy
Lorraine Lowe 劉黛明, Executive Director, Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Classical Chinese Garden
Neil Malhotra, Edith M. Cornell Professor of Political Economy, Stanford GSB
David Broockman, Moderator Associate Professor, UC Berkeley Travers Department of Political Science

Learn more about the Citrin Center:

Affiliated Centers

John McWhorter: Pitfalls in the Policing of Language

Presented by the Citrin Center for Public Opinion Research

Recorded on April 7, 2023, this video features a lecture by Professor John McWhorter, associate professor in the Slavic Department at Columbia University. This lecture was presented by the UC Berkeley Citrin Center for Public Opinion Research.

Professor McWhorter earned his B.A. from Rutgers, his M.A. from New York University, and his Ph.D. in linguistics from Stanford. Professor McWhorter has taught the seminar “Language in America,” a study of American linguistic history that considers Native American languages, immigrant languages, creole languages, American Sign Language, Black English and other speech varieties– their development, interactions, and preservation. He has also taught the seminar “Language Contact,” which focuses specifically on the mixture of language in North America, and studies the development of creoles, pidgins, koines, “vehicular” languages, and nonstandard dialects. Both seminars consider perceived legitimacy of languages, and the standing of language mixtures in media and education.

Professor McWhorter also teaches various other courses for the Linguistics Program and Music Humanities for the Core Curriculum program.

Professor McWhorter is an author of more than twenty books including The Power of Babel: A Natural History of Language, Losing the Race: Self Sabotage in Black America and Our Magnificent Bastard Tongue: The Untold History of English. In 2016 he published Words on the Move: Why English Won’t – and Can’t – Sit Still (Like, Literally), while in 2021 he published Nine Nasty Words and Woke Racism. He also writes a weekly column for The New York Times and hosts the language podcast Lexicon Valley.