J! J I J ”J‘JJJ J J
In "I .JJ

           
  
  

IIIJJ'J JJIJJJJJJJJIJJ JII‘I JJJ I
IJJJ IIII JaJIJJ.’ III III .
J :JIJ‘IIJ‘JJI IIJJJJII' ’

IIIIIII JJIIII

 

94:

‘H‘J’

%
Tm

         

 
   

' I {'ng :3”
I!
I I 32.?

(53",

I H “II

   
 
 

J IIIIII J J J
'JIIIIJIIIIIIIJJ'

I I'JJIII' JIJ'JI‘IIJI I I III IJJJIJI ‘ f I
JJ‘J 'JIIIIJI'I lIJIJJIJI gt? I -I JJ'JJJJ H“

IIJJII‘JJII II

III. ",II IIIIIIII' IJ.
IJJ MI IIIJII'I IIII I
JJJIJJ JIIII IIIII' II'IJJI‘JJ,‘
III'I I

 

 

     

IIIIIHJI‘J‘I'I, IJ JJII‘J

JJJJ Phqx.’
III'h J1'

     

 

        
 
 
 

  
   
  

 
  
 

I JJJJJJ I'JJI.JIJIIJ I.
IHJJ I. I-IIJJJ J]: I ., 7‘ . .
IIIIJ IJJ'J‘JI‘JII . I‘IgI JII' 'J'IJr‘ III} . .
J: IJIJJJI .JJ, .I I“ I JJJJJ JI II‘IIIIJ IIIIJ IIJIJHJJIIJIIJJJJ 1 IfiI‘I‘JI . J...“ m {In IIIII
I 'IIIII WJJJJ; J u' , I JIJJI’ I III! ’ IJII
.’ J I ' 'J'I JII H'IJJII IIIII IIJIJ"I HJIIIIJIJIJHJ IIIdI If IIIJI ,JJ, IKJJIJJII fly!» II’IIIH‘ II”: JIILIIIIJ

.I, J I II JII III I I . I . .
I JJJJJJJ II JIJIIJI I J,JIJIIJJJJ JJJJJIJI J J‘IJJ'JJ JJJ J J J JerJ J J J “I JJJJJJ I'J'JJJJJJJ
I 'J' JJJ 'J JJ J J JJJJ JJJ J‘JJIIJJ mILI'IJJ IIJiIJJJg JJ *J‘JJJ .IJI‘JJJJIJIJIJnmI I ' JWJ'WJJIIIIH II ”bill J40 IJ'I/III IIYIIJIJIJI' JJJ

'_I' 'JI I ‘IIIII ImIIIIIII" J IJN‘J'JJMJIWIIII

 

LIBRARY

Michigan State
University

 

This is to certify that the
thesis entitled

THE RELATIONSHIP OF FEDERAL FUNDING TO CRIMINOLOGY
AND POLICING RESEARCH IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES

presented by

JIM THOMAS

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for

PH.D. SOCIOLOGY

 

 

degree in

   

quor professor

Date 2-2-80

 

0-7639

   
   

OVERDUE FINES ARE 25¢ PER DAY
PER ITEM

Return to book drop to remove
this checkout from your record.

 

 

 

© 1980

JIM THOMAS

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

THE RELATIONSHIP OF FEDERAL FUNDING TO CRIMINOLOGY
AND POLICING RESEARCH IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES

BY

Jim Thomas

A DISSERIATION

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Sociology

1979

ABSTRACT

The Relationship of Federal Funding to
Criminology and Policing Research in the Social Sciences

By Jim Thomas

An increasingly prominent feature of social research in the past
two decades has become its sponsorship by Federal agencies. This so-
called marriage between researchers and Federal sponsors has been
viewed as destructive by some, essential by others. By examining
Federal sponsorship of criminal justice research, particularly
policing studies, within the context of a sociology of knowledge,
two issues are addressed: 1) The ideological configurations underly-
ing knowledge production, and 2) The possible politicization of
research by Federal funding.

Two research strategies have been employed. First, drawing the

distinction between state power and state apparatus, the organizational

 

 

processes underlying Funding decisions for one particular agency, the /'°

National Institute of Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice (NILECJ)

are examined. By examing the state's organization for the production

of knowledge, insights into how state power is translated into research

by state apparatus becomes possible, and also helps identify particular
features, both structural and interactional, which radiate state power.
The organizational study entailed interviewing key NILECJ personnel,
Congressional aides and other persons related to Institute activity,
and also included attending legislative hearings and other appropriate
sessions. It also entailed a documentary analysis of legislation,
policy documents and NILECJ correspondence and memorandums. Two

findings emerged from the organizational study: 1) State power is 7d“,

mediated by a variety of structural and interactional features such as
individual discretion, ggb_£gga_rules, and tacit understandings of
particular persons, as well as by conflicting and contradictory goals
or strategies between state agencies and the social environment.
As a consequence, funded research cannot be understood simply as a
direct expression of state power and the corresponding interests such
power serves; 2) Although the findings suggest that criminal justice
research is politicized, this politicization may reflect features of
the research community at least as much as it does any particular
ideological perspective of either state power or state apparatus.

The second strategy emplgyed a precise coding instrument for a

content analysis comparing funded and non-funded policing studies in

 

six sociological and criminal justice journals. Two findings emerged
from the content analysis: 1) Federal funding does not seem to
generate research results that are more politicized than non-funded
research, and 2) There are several ideological biases found in both
funded and non-funded research, but these ideological features may
be embedded in research activity itself rather than derive from the
influence of state sponsorship.

There are several conclusions derived from this study. First,
the relationship between the state and the activities it sponsors
cannot be understood soieiy by examining formal rules and procedures
or intents of Federal agencies and corresponding authorizing legisla-
tion. This is because there exists a variety of factors which
mediate between state activity and other features of the social world.

Second, the content analysis suggests that the politicization of

research occurring in both funded and non-funded policing studies

seems to originate in the preconceptual stage of research, suggesting
that the prior ideology of the researcher may be a normative feature

of research rather than shaped by state sponsorship. Thigd, a sociology
of knowledge requires a theory of both structural and individual
ideology as well as a theogz g: the.§£g£g_in modern industrial society
in order to more adequately account for the production of the politi-
cization and ideological figures underlying knowledge production.

This project is a first step in this direction.S 75

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

 

Dissertations are usually a collective effort from divers sources,
and this one is no exception. I thank Jim.McKee and Rick Hill for
their intellectual support for the past five years, and Dick Peterson
for his patience and time-consuming assistance, which, while probably
driving him to occasional dispair, kept me from it. I also wish to
thank Jim Zuiches for useful comments he made on the proposal.

I was fortunate to have as committee members two close friends,
Chris Vanderpool and Peter Manning, and I hope my present and future
work will reflect their demanding standards.

The tolerance of friends like Mike Young, Harry Mika, Peter Grimes,
Gerry Bennett, Ron Kirschenheiter, Ginny Samuelson, Martha Mikko,

Barb Keane and Greg Hill was absolutely crucial. And somehow Barb
kept it all together. Thanks.

This project was supported by an LEAA Graduate Fellowship

(90195-9-MI-NI), without which the research would have been impossible.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Chapter 1. The Sociology of Knowledge Connection . . 1

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
Sociology of Knowledge Context. . . . . . 2
Positivism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
Neo-Kantianism. . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Regalian-Marxian. . . . . . . . . .
Issues for the Sociology of Knowledge . . 16
Statement of the Problem. . . . . . . . . 19
Summary of the Project. . . . . . . . . . 22
Conclusion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

Chapter 2. The Sponsorship-Research Connection . . . 33

Theoretical Issues. . . . . . . . . . . . 33
Instrumental. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35
Enlightenment Perspective . . . . . . . 44
Sponsorship Critics . . . . . . . . . . 51

Conclusion. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65

Chapter 3. The Historical Connection . . . . . . . . 70

Section A: History of Funded Research. . 70
Section B: Evolution of Criminal Justice
Research. . . . . . . . . . . 80
Section C: History of LEAA
and NILECJ. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83

Chapter 4. The Organizational Connection . . . . . . 89
Section 1: Formal Organization
Structure (NILECJ). . . . . . . . . . . 89

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 89
Methodology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
Crime Control Acts: 1968-1979. . . . . . lOO
NILECJ Directors. . . . . . . . . . . . . 103
Institute Structure . . . . . . . . . . . 109
Formal Operational Procedures . . . . . . 112
Establishing Goals. . . . . . . . . . . 112
Articulation of Research Areas. . . . . 116
Distribution of Funds . . . . . . . . . 118
Agency/Research-Community Connection. . . 118
Section 2: Structural Mediations
Slippage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122

TABLE OF CONTENTS (CONT.)

Chapter 5.

Chapter 6.

A. Interest Groups . . . . . . . .
B. Executive/Congressional
Mediations. . . . . . . . . .
Internal Structure. . . . . . . . . .
Structure of the Research
Community . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Conclusion. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Section 3: Interactional Mediations:
Loose-Coupling. . . . . . . . . . .

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Loose-Coupling. . . . . . . . . . .
Institute Goal Establishment. . . .
Budget. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Implementation of Research. . . . .
Conclusion. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The Ideological Connection: Procedures

and Content of Funded and Nonfunded

ReseaICh. O O O O O O O O I O O O 0
Section 1: Procedure and Funding .

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Methodology . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Procedures and Content of Research. .
Results . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Paradigm. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Data Manipulation . . . . . . . . .
Theory. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Problematic . . . . . . . . . . .
Conclusion. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Section 2: Ideology and Funding. . .

A. General Purpose . . . . . . . .
B. View of Police. . . . . . . . .
C. Direction . . . . . . . . . . .

conc1u8 ion 0 O O 0 O O O O O O O O O 0

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . .
Paradigms . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Social Factist. . . . . . . . . . .
Social Constructionist. . . . . .
Paradigms and Traditional Theory.
Marxian-Hegelian. . . . . .
Paradigms, Historical Analysis and
Policing Studies. . . . . . . .
Directions for Further Research .

140
143

144

144
147
148
149
154
167

178
178

178
183
185
191
191
196
197
198
202
205

206
208
211

216

216
219
219
220
220
222

223
227

TABLE OF CONTENTS (CONT.)

Appendix . . . . . .

Bibliography . . . . . .

LIST OF TABLES

Table 1: Journal Totals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 184
Table 2: Paradigm Summary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193
Table 3: Data Manipulation Summary. . . . . . . . . . . . 196
Table 4: Theory Distribution. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 197
Table 5: Problematics (Total Number). . . . . . . . . . . 199
Table 6: Problematics (Percentages) . . . . . . . . . . . 199
Table 7: General Purpose Distribution . . . . . . . . . . 207
Table 8: View of Police . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 210
Table 9: Orientation Towards Police . . . . . . . . . . . 212

Table 10: Status Quo Orientation. . . . . . . . . . . . . 214

Chapter 1: The Sociology of Knowledge Connection
INTRODUCTION

An increasingly prominent feature of social research1 since the
19603 has become its sponsorship by the private and state economic
sectors.2 This has been variously called the "new political economy"
(B.L.R. Smith, 1975), "the revolution in government science" (Dupre
and Lakoff, 1962: 9-15), "the New Federalism"3 (Muelder, 1971: 1-10;
Price, 1964: 33), the managerial revolution (Kerr, 1964: 28), or
simply the response to the crisis in American education. Through the
sponsorship of graduate and postgraduate training programs, research
and development projects and plants, support to secondary and higher
education, private research contracts, in-house research agencies and
investigatory commissions, grants, subsidies and conferences, the
state sector especially continues to contribute heavily to social
research activity.4 As Dupre and Lakoff (1962: 20) have observed:

In terms of sheer size, industrial research and development,
the majority of it financed by the government, dominates the
American science establishment. . .But even more important is
the nature of the links that R&D has forged between public and
private interests.

Since this was written, the Federal government has become even
more heavily involved in research support. Yet, the nature of the
links between Federal support and research activity remains little-

examined. As will be discussed in Chapter 2, these links are

variously viewed as the reflection of a benevolent state's

philanthropic efforts to contribute to the well-being of its members,

as a sign of social enlightment, or as a means of class domination.
SOCIOLOGY OF KNOWLEDGE CONTEXT

The study of the social organization and the social content of
knowledge is usually assigned to the realm of the sociology of knowl-
edge. The central maxim of the sociology of knowledge is that knowl-
edge cannot be adequately understood without an examination of its
social context. A sociology of knowledge context is useful for the
examination of state-sponsored research because it allows for
examination of the genesis of one particular form of knowledge,
scientific knowledge, as a social process, a process created and
shaped by a variety of social factors. By examining the conditions
under which certain procedures and contents of knowledge are followed
and produced, and the factors which may direct attention to certain
problems and topics rather than others, it may become possible to
increase understanding of the existence of ideas as, in part,
contingent upon the historically-shaped features of the social world,
such, for example, as the modern state. Most traditional sociology
of knowledge positions, however, appear inadequate for the task of
addressing the complex interrelationships between contemporary
knowledge production and the underlying social bases, and these
positions should be examined before proceeding.

Inquiry into the social context of knowledge began in the so-
called preliterate era of history (Barnes and Becker, 1938), and
extant recorded attempts to understand the social elements of

knowledge are found at least as early as Socrates' interrogation of

Theaetetus. In modern times, 18th century thinker Claude Helvetius
was one of the first to suggest that ideas were socially derived.
Kent's later 18th century critique and dialectical synthesis of
dogmatic rationalism and empiricist skepticism ultimately inspired
Hegel's subsequent attempts to demystify the development of knowl-
edge by viewing it as the dialectical becoming of Reason, brought
about through the activity of world-historical agents. Hegel's
radical critique of Kantian epistemology led in turn to Marx's
early theory of ideology which located the content of a society's
ideas within the beliefs and attitudes of a dominant class. The
HegelianéMarxian view, in turn, influenced a number of early
influential thinkers (e.g., Scheler, Lukacs, Mannheim). August Comte's
so-called "positivist" social theory of the early 19th century was a
response to the "negativism" of the Hegeilan position. In contrast
to the subjectivism and "negation" of Hegelian thinking, Comte sought
objective (i.e., positive) features, laws, and development in history
and social interaction. These positions, positivism,5 neo-Kantianism,
and HegelianéMarxian variants are the three dominant intellectual
influences in the sociology of knowledge.

Twentieth century sociologists of knowledge would appear to share
a common definition or theme by focusing on those social features which
shape knowledge or on the processes whereby categorical frames of
reference, perceptual ordering techniques and interpretive frameworks,
or "mapping" techniques are rooted in social conditions (e.g., Mannheim,
1936: 2; Barnes, 1948: 215; Staude, 1967: 165; Timasheff, 1948: 441;
Maquet, 1951: 5). But several issues begin to emerge here, which can

be described within the intellectual traditions in which they occur.

The fundamental point of divergence between the Positivist,
Neo-Kantian, and Marxian-Hegelian6 positions is on the relationship
of knowing subject to the object known, or more simply, on the subject-
object relationship.

1. Positivism. For positivists, knowledge production is an
order-creating production of human-intellectual functions. For
positivists, knowledge conforms to features of an objective world.
Processes underlying the social organization of knowledge are typically
viewed as forms of social organization designed to apprehend as
accurately as possible the noumenal features of autonomous objects.
The analytic focal point is one of examining, in Durkheim's dictum,

a world of "social facts" as "things," and the methodological task
involves a search for laws or causes of the genesis of knowledge.
Four inter-related features characterize this conception of sociology
of knowledge. First, knowledge is reductionist in that it is
reducible to an independent entity which

. . .presents us with society conceived of as a thing-like

facticity standing over against its individual members with

coercive controls and molding them in its socializing

processes (Berger and Pullberg, 1964: 196).

In this view,

. . .the reflective powers of cognition become drastically

limited as thought becomes defined in terms of a unified,

scientific order wherein factual knowledge is derivable

from and subsumed under natural scientific principles

(Hearn, 1973-4: 143).

Second, positivism is objectivist in that there is an assumed
correspondence between an object and the subject's conception of that

object, and empirical variables represented in theoretical proposi-

tions are presumed self-existent. The phenomenal relationship

 

between knowing subject and object known is denied by conceptualizing
knowledge as a pre-existing phenomenon which is "already there," and
the practical side of knowledge, that is, the component of hgm§g_
creativity, is ignored. The result, as Habermas (1972: 307) has
argued, is that the framework which provides the precondition of the
meaning of propositions is suppressed. EBAEE: this view rejects
inquiry into the historicity underlying knowledge by concealing the
historical configurations through which knowledge exists as a product
of human transformative activity. This leads to a view of concepts

as immutable, temporally frozen and static. Finally, in this
perspective there can be no programmatic content because theory is
severed from practice. That is, there is no direct connection between
theoretical ideas and action such that there exist theoretically-derived
imperatives that lead necessarily to specific forms of conduct.

In sum, the presuppositions which guide selection, shape interpre-
tation and suggest application are not problematic for a sociology of
knowledge derived from this position. Studies typically focus on
establishing and measuring correlations between knowledge, as the
dependent variable, and various operationally-defined features of the
social world as independent variables (e.g., Peterson, 1969; Manis,
1968; Simonton, 1976; Useem, 1976a, 1976b, 1976c), or are viewed as
a functional element in system maintenance (e.g., Etzioni, 1968;
Parsons and Platt, 1973; Merton, 1968a; 1968b; Vandervelde and Miller,
1975).

The fundamental drawback of a positivist approach is that knowl-

edge is not recognized as a constituent element of the human subject's

practical activity which may be historically contingent. Further, by
severing theory from practice, there occurs a fact/value distinction
such that knowledge becomes viewed as value-neutral. As a consequence,
power relations and ideological biases, which are believed purged

from inquiry, may re-enter knowledge production unrecognized, thus,
perpetuating value and power relations in the guise of value-neutrality.
Finally, the objectivism of this position results in a reification

of experience in that categories and concepts which form cognitive
frameworks become static, taken-for-granted, and viewed as invariant
features of a "real world."

The problem, then, with positivist approaches is that a) They
fail to recognize the historical character on which facts are based,
which results in severing subject and object by excluding the
historically-shaped process of knowledge as human activity which
transforms the world; b) They over-emphasize an unproblematic,
immediately-given world of experience rather than focus on experience
as mediated by a complex of factors; c) There is a view of the world
that abstracts individual phenomenon from their context rather than
examines them as part of a social totality to which all features of
the social world are connected, and d) There is an inability to
understand its own scientific methodology. The appeal to "facts,"
as Lukacs (l97l:5) has reminded us, has already been comprehended
by a theory, a method, and "wrenched from their living context and
fitted into a theory." This may create an ideological bias that
shapes both the organization and outcomes of knowledge production.

2. Neo-Kantianism. For neo-Kantians, as for positivists,

knowledge is an order-creating activity. Unlike positivists,

neo-Kantians view the world as constituted by the powers of the subject
(rather than by features of the object) in that objects of knowledge
conform to the subjective structures and mental states of the knower,
that is, to the cognitive structure of those producing the knowledge.
The methodological task for this position becomes one of identifying
those social processes and factors which contribute to the formation
of knowledge production. In this position, it is the social conditions
or context of knowledge production which shapes the cognitive activity
of the subject of knowledge rather than a search for causes and general
laws derived from the mechanics of autonomous objects. This position
derives from Kant's attempts to overcome the subject-object split in
18th century epistemology and to establish a "science" capable of
integrating value statements. Kant set himself the task of examining
the possibility that, as Copernicus had suggested,

Failing satisfactory progress in explaining the movement of the

heavenly bodies on the supposition that they all revolved round

the spectator, he [Copernicus] tried whether he might not have

better success if he made the spectator to revolve and the stars

to remain at rest (Kant, 1965: 22).

Kant attempted to overcome the subject-object separation by
logically demonstrating how thought created the fggm§_of its objects
of cognition. There are two major variants of neo—Kantian thought
relevant to a sociology of knowledge. In the first, the genesis of
knowledge is sought in the historical and ideological context in
which thought occurs, and the task for analysis is to describe the
emergence of knowledge from this context. Verstehen analysts such
as Wilhelm Dilthey, Max weber, and especially Max Scheler and Karl

Mannheim reflected a response against the positivist tradition of the

19th and early 20th centuries. Mannheim's work has been particularly

influential among sociologists of knowledge. Mannheim's Ideology

and Utopia represented a rejection of that form of Marxism dominant

 

especially in the years after World war I and the Second International.
His work attempts to overcome positivist emphasis on the object of
knowledge, an emphasis which either excluded the subject, or considered
the subject merely as epi-phenomenal. A Mannheimian position shares
with positivists the view that social reality is giyeg in that the
specific features and structures of a society are naturally occurring
rather than outcomes of practical human activity. Mannheimis position,
however, includes a historical component in which knowledge is seen

as emerging out of specific historical conditions which reflect, for
example, economic positions, social statuses, or power differentials.
History, for Mannheimians, represents a series of events that give
shape to, and which in turn guide the construction of styles g£_thought
and of world view.7 Mannheim's sociology of knowledge, derived
especially from the thought of Lukacs (e.g., Lukacs, 1971a, 1971b),
proceeds from the assumption that there is nothing in the analysis of
thought which can stand above history, and by identifying when and
where particular world views, perspectives and styles of thought
emerged, and by correlating them with the content of thought, we

can igpute to specific groups a particular "ideological consciousness,"
socially derived, which will explain the differences between competing
interpretations of the social world. The concept of world view

allows Mannheim to examine not only knowledge within a historical
context, but also to include an evaluative element that allows the
observer to account for subjective, non-rational elements in knowledge.

For a Mannheimian position, then, there is no fact/value distinction

insofar as both facts and values are historically contingent. By

identifying two components of world view, a) the perspective of the

 

knower which may limit or distort knowledge, and b) ideological content
of knowledge, Mannheimians believe it is possible to impute historical
meaning, bodies of thought, ideas, beliefs and psychological states

of mind to specific groups, be those groups classes, political bodies,
or interest groups (e.g., D.L. Smith, 1965; Schwendinger and
Schwendinger, 1974; Ringer, 1969).

There is a second variant of neo-Kantian sociology of knowledge,
unrelated to Mannheim's work, that focuses on the processes through
which the knowing subject constructs a social world through interaction
and negotiation. This is the phenomenological variant. Whereas
Mannheimis position Stressed the historical and ideological features
as components of knowledge, the phenomenological approach employs a
restricted definition of knowledge which is limited to studying that
information required by persons to "make sense" of the common stock
of shared beliefs and assumptions about the world which provides the
basis for structuring social interaction and interpreting experience.
Adherents to this position do not focus on the social content or
socio-historical genesis of ideas. Knowledge production is instead
viewed as part of the interaction processes of everyday life, in
that knowledge arises from.negotiation and interaction in socially-
constructed contexts, and must be continually reaffirmed in each new
encounter. This position implicitly makes the distinction between

"knowledge" and "science,"

with the former deriving from social
processes and the latter from specific application of techniques which

do not, for this position, become the primary problematic. The task

10

for inquiry includes recovering the subject's meaning systems and

 

thus entails an understanding_of the meanings of a given social situa-

 

tion within the specific context in which such meanings occur for the
participants. The contributions of Bar-Hillel (1954), Law (1975),
Barnes and Law (1975), Douglas (1970), and of those not usually
associated with the sociology of knowledge (e.g., Coulter, 1973;
Manning, 1977) proceed from a common premise: Knowledge is a social
.35; to be understood by grasping the manner in which meanings are
created, exchanged and maintained through the manipulation of
symbols.

Both neo-Kantian perspectives succeed in overcoming some of the
problems of a positivist position, but in so doing, they have created
others. Both Mannheimian and phenomenological variants avoid
reductionism in that knowledge is not conceptualized as an independent-
ly—existing phenomenon isolated from imputed or self-created meaning
of the human subject. Both variants also avoid objectivism in that
they reject the position that the object of knowledge is a more-or-
1ess direct copy of reality, and both variations are premised on the
necessity of understanding the phenomenal reconstruction of the
object. But Mannheimians do not go far enough, and phenomenological
neo-Kantians seem to approach radical subjectivism while possibly
introducing a subtle form of methodological objectivism. For
Mannheimians, investigation of the genesis of knowledge goes no
further than analysis of the impact of the ideological features of
the historical period which shapes thought. There is no examination
of the relationship between the genesis of the historical period

itself, or of the connection of forms of knowledge arising from and '

11

within it. This removes historical reflexivity from a Mannheimian
approach in that two crucial problematics, the genesis of self-
knowledge and ideology, are excluded.

For the phenomenological variant, knowledge is a phenomenal
object built up from human interaction and corresponding to human
understandings, but it removes the objective element of humanly-
constructed artifacts (including ideology, consciousness and social
structure). The subjectivism of the phenomenological variant requires
a methodological de-emphasis, if not actual elimination, of the
object of knowledge. But it seems to flirt with methodological
objectivism in that, although the knowledge which is examined is
conceptualized as phenomenal, the knowledge of that knowledge is
treated by researchers as if it were a map of reality, so to speak,
whose "fit" corresponds to an existing state of affairs.

Both variants, then, but the phenomenological in particular,
remain at the level of reified consciousness in that neither
adequately examines the self-formation of consciousness. As a result,
like positivists, neither position is able to adequately critique the
immediacy of either social relations or social interaction. Where
a Mannheimian position attempts to overcome the fact/value distinction
by recognizing the constitution of values as embedded in forms of
consciousness specific to a particular period, the phenomenological
approach, because of the exclusion|of historical contingency from
analysis, maintains the fact/value distinction as radically as
positivists. Both variants maintain the separation between theory
and practical activity in that neither position generates theoretically-

derived imperatives for action.

 

12

In sum, the value of neo-Kantian analysis is, as Remmling (1975)
has reminded us, the critical elevation of epistemological theory and
the abolition of crude realism which confronted the knower with
autonomous objects. Unfortunately, neo-Kantians, while not severing
the subject from the object as radically as do positivists, nonethe-
less adopt a contemplative, dualistic stance in that the method-
ological program is one of reconstruction of a phenomenal object by
a subject who has no active relationship to the social world from
which knowledge springs.

3. ‘gggglianéMarxian. The HegelianeMarxian position takes
divers forms, but for convenience may be divided into two variants.

The first a structural, and the second a phenomenological view,

 

 

correspond to traditional materialist and Hegelian emphasis respec-
tively.8 Marxian social analysts, despite their differences, view
analysis of social knowledge as a means of demystifying the class-
bound nature of knowledge. For Marxian sociologists of knowledge

(as typified, for example, by Lukacs, 1971a), conventional knowledge,
as reflected in the outcomes of "bourgeois science,“ functions as an
apologia for the existing social order by failing to see the
historical content of concepts of inquiry as a necessary component
for analysis, and by reproducing in thought the existing social
order in that concepts are uncritically accepted and analytically
removed from their social context. The result of such a removal
constitutes an ideological bias of social knowledge which perpetuates
the dominant social order by maintaining the dominant form of
consciousness. This is termed a false consciousness in that the

conventionally accepted premises and judgments regarding the nature

13

and Operation of the social order can be demonstrated to be inconsistent
with the existing state of affairs. By reconstructing the historical
genesis of consciousness, as one aspect of human self-reproduction,

the effects of ideological distortion on the production of social
knowledge, for example, can be illustrated.

Each Marxian position grounds forms of social life in the
transformation processes of human activity, and each examines the
development of the emergence and modification of social structure
and social relations as reflecting the particular state in the
development of a society's productive relations. The primary
difference between the two variants is one of emphasis on the
importance of class conflict and what should be considered the
primary analytic focal point of inquiry. The structural perspective
tends to examine knowledge as a means of facilitating capitalist
accumulation, or as a productive force (e.g., Lukacs, 1971a;

D. Smith, 1974). The phenomenological perspective tends to focus

on cognition, experience, or features of interaction as mediated

by various factors (e.g., class conflict, ideology, social structure:
Marcuse, 1968, 1972; Horkheimer, 1972; Shaw, 1972, 1975; Wellmer, 1971).
Both variants reject the subject/object, fact/value theoretical
distinctions. The structural position tends to over-emphasize the
economic determinants underlying social structure and interaction

and minimize discretional and situational factors of knowledge
production. It also over-emphasizes the degree to which state and
ruling class interests coincide, and it is not evident that knowledge
production conforms so directly with either private requisites or

system requisites of capitalist order. Although the phenomenological

14

position tempers the structural view, it tends towards idealism in
that material structure is de-emphasized in favor of ideology and
interaction processes, and suggests that changing thought and
experience in turn will transform social praxis. This view tends
towards abstract theorizing rather than empirical analysis. For
both variants, the intent of analysis is emancipatory. For the
structuralists, knowledge is a weapon in class conflict. For the
phenomenological position, knowledge, although class-bound, is the
means of recognizing and overcoming forms of unnecessary social
domination. In this latter position, the proletariat is not
necessarily viewed as the sole, or even primary, agent in social
struggle.

The Marxian position overcomes both objectivism and subjec-
tivism by preserving the identity of the subject and object. In
contrast to the neo-Kantians for whom the factors which turn the
material world into a unified experience which generates knowledge
are unproblematic forms of apperception and understanding, for
Marxians, material production and corresponding social relations
structure the world. The genesis of knowledge derives from.modes
of perception by which production, control, and reproduction of
social order is conducted:

The production of ideas, of conceptions, of consciousness,
is at first directly interwoven with the material activity
and the material intercourse of men, the language of

real life. Conceiving, thinking, the mental intercourse
of men, appear at this state as the direct efflux of

their material behavior (Marx, 1974: 47).

This means that for a Marxian position, knowledge production

and ideology on one hand, and the processes by which the material

15

world (to include forms of consciousness and social relations, as well
as the world of physical objects) on the other, are inseparably bound
together as necessary elements in understanding the genesis of
knowledge. It means also that necessary forms of social organization
are bound up and reflected in the processes and outcomes of knowl-
edge production, including forms of social domination and control,
existing forms of productive relations, and preferred means of
cognition.

A Marxian approach also dissolves the theory-praxis separation
by exploring the gaps in conventional ideologically-bound theories
of knowledge (as well as the outcomes of inquiry derived from such
theory) in order to identify prevailing forms of domination. As a
consequence, in Marxian thought there is an imperative for emancipa-
tory action, whoever the agent of such action may be, that derives
directly from the theory.

In sum, sociology of knowledge is an area over which there is
no general agreement. There has been no consistent body of developed
thought since Karl Mannheim, and there is no framework from.which an
analysis of the social production of knowledge can proceed unprob-
lematically. The fundamental epistemological and practical issue,
however, is that of the relationship between subject and object.
It is upon this relationship that the problems of objectivism and
reductionism, the criteria for adequate understanding, and the
programmatic nature of a particular position depend. Marxian-
especially critical-theorists have attempted to clarify the subject-

object relationship, but few are directly engaged in analysis of the

16

social organization of knowledge production, and the Hegelian-Marxian
position remains undeveloped. Drawing from the discussion of the three
traditions, however, it becomes possible to identify several critical

issues for the sociology of knowledge.
. ISSUES FOR THE SOCIOLOGY OF KNOWLEDGE

Traditional approaches to the sociology of knowledge tend to
exclude several issues. This dissertation is guided by the judgement,
drawn from.Marxian and critical theories, that a sociology of knowl-
edge, at the minimum, must address the following processes in the
production of knowledge: A

1) It should go beyond simple recognition of knowledge as a
constitutive feature of social life. It must attempt to reconstruct
not only the processes underlying the genesis of knowledge, but also
of the existing social order which conditions historical self-
transformative activity, of which the production of knowledge is
itself one component.

2) A sociology of knowledge cannot stop at identifying the
ideological configurations underlying cognition, social organization
and content of research, but must also account for the genesis of
ideology itself. This requires a theory 2; ideology which must be
developed to address (a) the production of consciousness, (b) the
development and guidance of cognition, (c) the production and appli-

cation of interactional rules (including both normative and scientific

 

bases of the procedures and social organization of knowledge produc-
tion), and how these components in turn shape the production of

concepts and order the interpretation of data.

17

3) There must also be an examination of the power relations
which are embodied in knowledge production as a social activity such
that ideology and social organization become developed or transformed
in a manner which unequally serves particular interests at the expense
or exclusion of others. This may result, for example, in particular
questions, procedures and programs of inquiry being systematically
discouraged or eliminated in favor of others.
4) There must be included a theory pf.£hg“§£§£e_to provide an
.understanding into the penetration and outcomes of state ppggp_and
state apparatus into a variety of levels of knowledge-producing
social organization (To include education, research sponsorship,
legislation and legitimation activity).9 If federal funding does
influence knowledge production, then state mobilization of resources
for research represents a deliberate exercise of state power which
such a theory of the state must take into account.
5) There must be a historical component. This component must
not be a historical relativism (e.g., Mannheim) in which all ideas
are contingent upon a temporal moment reconstructed as uncritical
subjective retroflection on the sequence of temporal events under-
lying a "self-conscious present." For as Lukacs (1971a: 12) has
argued:
. . .it is perfectly possible for someone to describe the
essentials of an historical event and yet be in the dark
about the real nature of that event and its function in
the historical totality, i.e., without understanding it
as part of a unified historical process.

Rather it must become possible to uncover the specific historical

configurations which shape the development of an object of knowledge

by the subject, which returns us to the first issue (above), requiring

18

that knowledge be recognized as a constitutive feature of social life.
If knowledge production is mediated on several levels (e.g., interac-
tional, organizational, legislative or normative) by a variety of
complex, but interrelated factors (such as occurring and recurrent
social conflicts and crises, ecological crises, social disturbances
and historical options for action), it must become at least minimally
possible to identify the interconnections between levels and

features and the potential contradictions which are generated as

the result of both structural factors, and of self-transformative
activity. This, taken as a complex process, is the historical
component required by a sociology of knowledge.

6). Finally, the program of a sociology of knowledge must contain
an emancipatory rather than a disinterested component (e.g., Habermas,
19723, 1973; Schroyer, 1973; Horkheimer, 1972). This program
requires the overcoming of both fact/value and subject-object
distinction such that knowledge production is recognized as embodying
power relations, and once power relations are identified, they are
critiqued by the degree to which they contribute to, or constrain,
the elimination of unnecessary forms of social and intellectual
domination and constraint. If the basis of knowledge is an expansion
of theoretical, empirical and conceptual domains of thought, then it
is critical that a sociology of knowledge facilitate struggle against
social constraints upon both the activity of knowledge production and
the limitations of our conceptual apparatus.

In sum, a sociology of knowledge must consider that the genesis
of knowledge may be shaped by power and ideology embodied in the

social organization of research. The current status of the sociology

19

of knowledge does not provide adequate conceptual or theoretical
tools for such an examination, although the Marxian framework indicates

possible directions for initiating such an examdnation.

STATEMENT OF THE PROBLEM

One particularly effective way to begin drawing together the
issues in an analysis of the production of social knowledge* may be
to focus on a topic that is both dramatic and fundamental to the
issues of control, ideology, and social influence. One such topic
is Federal funding of criminal justice--especially policing-research.
Police, as used here, refers to federally, state or municipally
sanctioned social control agencies mandated to enforce laws, and
legally empowered with authority to carry out this mandate. Policing
research refers to any study that (a) focuses on police activity or
behavior, organizations, purposes, effect or functions, tactics,
strategies and goals of police; (b) uses police as a major dependent
or independent variable; or (c) claims to provide insights, explana-
tions or understandings about the activity, processes, development, or
occupational features of policing, or about the relationship of
police to the duties performed or the interactions and encounters

with civilians.

 

*Knowledge production connotes social practices involving the
creation, dissemination, results, and purposes of knowledge, as well
as the application of it. My concern in this project is with
features which may shape the genesis of knowledge. By knowledge
production is meant the processes and content through which knowl-
edge (i.e., those ideas or bodies of data which are generally
considered empirically verifiable) come into being through the
collective activity of persons organized for producing knowledge.

 

20

Policing studies are an appropriate focus for several inter-
related reasons. ,First, the "crime crisis" atmosphere of the mid-19608
led to a number of Presidential commissions, facilitated the creation
of the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration (LEAA) and its
research arm, the National Institute of Law Enforcement and Criminal
Justice (NILECJ, or The Institute), which is the focal point of the
organizational analysis of this study. Implicit in the approach of
federal response to the crime crisis was the belief in the validity
of scientific research as a potential instrument for controlling
crime-given sufficient resources and commitment. Federal resources
were channeled into divers studies of crime and the criminal justice
system, including social research projects examining the characteristics,
operations, strategies and effectiveness of policing. This funding
bonanza has encouraged a dramatic growth of research into crimino-
logical problems, especially in the past ten years. Second, because
of the centrality and enormous visibility of police, increasing atten-
tion has been focused on the capacity of the police to fulfill their
mandate as "crime fighters." The function of police appears, for some
observers, to be highly problematic. Yet, because of the prevailing
view of policing as a crime-fighting activity, an examination of
sponsored and nonsponsored policing studies will allow for organizing
and assessing the content of such research, as well as for examining
the relationship of such research to funding agencies. Third, police
serve as a means of social control by all levels of state apparatus
(e.g., federal, state and municipal). Because the state is both

sponsor and executor of policing functions, that is, of the primary

21

means of social control, the relationships between power and knowledge
are salient features of the state's sponsorship of policing research.
If the state, as embodied in the federal government, mobilizes
knowledge of a specific character, then it might be the case that
federal sponsorship of policing research has become a dominant
influence on the direction and content that criminal justice research
reflects. Although selected theoretical issues will be taken up
separately in the appropriate empirical chapters, the central question
for this project is simply this: What are the processes underlying
the federal sponsorship of policing research, and does this sponsor-
ship have an impact on the procedures and content of funded and non-
funded research? This question bears most directly on two issues
described in the previous section, the issues of state power in
shaping research and the issue of the ideological content of research.
By state power is meant the resources which enable the federal govern-
ment to create a mandate, whether legislative or implicit, and to
carry out that mandate. State apparatus refers to the various agencies
or other instruments through which human activity is intended to serve
state power. This distinction is useful in identifying the often-
conflicting procedures that occur at one level or the other in the
sponsorship of knowledge. An analysis of state-generated outcomes
of policing research should indicate whether the state is able to
directly penetrate the research process by injecting its needs and
preferences into research content. An examination of the processes
that bring research projects into being should contribute into whether
state apparatus operates in such a way as to exclude or encourage

particular research topics or procedures in generating knowledge.

22

If ideological biases shape the genesis of knowledge production, an
analysis of research outcomes should allow for identification and
description of those ideological configurations.

This project is not intended to address every possible issue,
nor is it intended to fully develop any single issue. By initially
addressing elements of two issues, organizational operations and
research outcomes, it will be possible to indicate how each issue
might be more fully developed and how the remaining issues might
be integrated into a cohesive framework in which to ground a
sociology of knowledge. This will be suggested in the conclusion.

It remains to outline the procedure of this project.
SUMMARY OF THE PROJECT

My intention in this project is to examine federal support of
policing research by examining the typical processes involved in the
selection and allocation of resources, and by juxtaposing this with
a comparision of funded and nonfunded research outcomes as reflected
in selected publications. The data collection is designed to identify
the organizational processes underlying the sponsorship of knowledge
in NILECJ, and also to identify and classify the patterns in the
content of funded and nonfunded policing research. Two research
strategies have been employed, an organizational analysis and a
content analysis. In this project, knowledge is not being viewed
as an epi-phenomenon, but as a constituent feature of social life
that both mediates and is mediated by other forms of social organiza-
tion (e.g., state power and apparatus, social conflict, societal

norms, or ideology). But this assumption is also a working hypothesis

23

to be examined throughout the study, and discussed in the conclusion.
One way to minimally avoid both the objectivism of positivists and the
subjectivism of neo-Kantian approaches is to view knowledge production
from the dual perspective of both embodying human activity (e.g.,
organizational activity which sponsors it) and of being an embodiment
of ideological features (e.g., the contents of research). The organi-
zational analysis is intended to investigate the production process of
knowledge in one of its phases, the solicitation and selection process
of NILECJ. This will allow for a more-direct examination of the state
power and state apparatus distinctions by allowing comparison of one
segment of state apparatus (NILECJ) as it carries out the directives
of state power. From the organizational analysis, I have attempted

to locate some of the mechanisms that shape the genesis of funded
research, and this has been done by examining selected structural and
interactional features of NILECJ activity.

At the theoretical level, by examining the state's organization
for the production of knowledge by examining a particular agency,
insights into how state power is translated into research by state
apparatus should become possible. Issues particularly relevant to
this project include:

1) Suggesting actual processes, criteria and specific rules
involved in funding;

2) Searching for possible conduits of state power by which
state influence is transferred to the research process, possibly
establishing ideological, practical and political connections

between state power (as reflected, for example, in legislation or

24

formal organizational rules) and state apparatus (as embodied in agency
practices); and I

3) Identifying features embodied in state apparatus that mediate
state power and formal rules.

The organizational analysis will proceed in two ways. First,
by interviewing those persons who have been instrumental in shaping
policy and in allocating resources for policing social research in
NILECJ and by attending selected legislative and agency meetings and
work sessions, it may be possible to identify whether certain social
practices (e.g., federal funding) contribute to the development of
certain kinds of knowledge and whether the impact of such practices
is embodied in particular forms of thought. An examination of
legislative documents, agency policy statements, funding solicitations
and proposals will supplement interviewing and impressionistic
observation in obtaining an understanding of the formal procedures
which organizations profess to follow, as well as of the justification
and mandate of action.

The second research strategy involves an examination of the
substantive content and cognitive patterns of research as reflected
in journal articles. A content analysis will allow for the tracing
of possible effects of the socially organized production process by
comparing funded with nonfunded research in the six journals.
A content analysis will provide clues to the genesis of research by
examining the object of knowledge (i.e., research outcome) and will
allow for the imputing of cognitive patterns to the subject by

identifying the methodological and theoretical procedures and

25

ideological patterns. It will also allow for analysis of the object
by examining the epistemological and political features of research..
At the theoretical level, five ideological issues can be addressed:

1) The degree to which funding may shape a particular research
field by directing the procedures and content of both funded and non-
funded knowledge; 2) At the subjective (or phenomenal) level, the
degree of autonomy which exists between researcher and sponsor, and
between research field and funding. If the procedures or content
appear to be influenced by funding processes, then "scientific autonomy,"
often considered to be a basic feature of science, must be reexamined;
3) The possibility that funding generates a "spin-off" effect that
shapes nonsponsored as well as sponsored research may be useful in
assessing the ideological connections between research and the state
production of ideology through research sponsorship; 4) The degree to
which methodological or thematic pluralism.exists within the research
community might be examined by assessing the degree to which both
funded and nonfunded research appear to be adopting the attitudes,
definitions, apparatus and techniques required by the needs of a
particular set of sponsors; 5) The possibility that what is often
assumed to be agency bias or state ideological connections may be
rooted within the very structure of the research process itself.

In sum, the organizational analysis will allow examination of
one moment of the research process by providing insights into selected
features of human activity (e.g., the retionales, processes, and
mechanisms) which effect research, as well as any intervening organi-
zational factors which may mediate the state-research connection.

The content analysis is intended to reveal aspects of the expressive

 

26

state of the subject (particularly those aspects entailing ideology),
as well as indexical features of the object by focusing on specific
features conveyed in the articles.*

These two strategies are intended to contribute to the issues of
the previous section by 1) allowing both subject and object of knowl-
edge to be incorporated within the same framework, 2) providing an
initial departure point (through examination of legislation, for
example) by which to examine how state power may direct state apparatus,
which in turn may shape research, and 3) illustrating how a multiplicity
of forms of human activity other than actual research activity (e.g.,
activities of legislation, administration, interaction), as examples

of the larger social totality, may shape knowledge production. Although

 

the two research strategies are connected only through their common
goal of attempting to unite both subject and object of knowledge--
albeit at an elementary level-they nonetheless provide a framework
for a sociology of knowledge that might eventually address the issues
outlined in this chapter.

These strategies and the issues they are designed to address are
not easily presented. This introduction is meant to provide a general
discussion of the most salient issues involved. Chapter 2 assesses
the body of literature addressing both state and private sector funding.
An attempt has been made to evaluate the literature by grounding the
studies within their corresponding tradition, and to conclude by

indicating the deficiencies of most other works. Chapter §_is a brief

 

*Indexical and expressive are commonly used in content analysis to
refer to the message and mood of a work and its author respectively.

27

chronology of federal support of knowledge production. It is meant to
illustrate the increasing federal involvement and to demonstrate that
this involvement is historically contingent upon the growth and
intervention of the state at particular historical mounts. Chapter

4, the organizational analysis, will examine state involvement in, and
agency implementation of, supporting activities for research within
the context of state power and state apparatus. Chapter §_is what
might be called a "decoding" of the outcomes of research such that

the features of both research as object and researchers as subject

might be identified. The concluding_chapter will summarize the results

 

by relating their implications to the issues raised in the introduction.
There will also be a brief suggestion for a future research agenda

derived from this project.

CONCLUSION

There should be a final word on what this dissertation will and
will not do. First, it is not an attempt to develop a specific
sociology of knowledge, nor is it an attempt to critique existing
approaches. There will be no theory of power relations, of ideology,
of the state or of knowledge production. It reflects instead an
attempt to examine one facet of one kind of knowledge production in
contemporary U.S. society.

At the empirical level, this project eventually may 1) provide
data which could allow for modest contribution to clarification of
perspectives in the sociology of knowledge, and 2) help illuminate

aspects of Marxian and critical theory, including the capitalist state

28

theses and theories, and forms and effects of ideological influence
on social life.

This study is limited by several factors: 1) the lack of theo-
retical development in Marxian and critical theory, as well as the
fledgling state of theories of the contemporary state in industrial
society, of ideology, and of the sociology of knowledge itself, make
it difficult to do much other than address preliminary issues, problems
which must eventually be resolved: 2) the relatively short time
alloted for dissertation writing (itself a reflection of the social
organization of knowledge production) limits discussion to a summary of
some crucial issues, and to mere allusion to others; and 3) the
university and federal resources allotted for an organizational
analysis, while helpful, are insufficient for a temporally-extended
and substantively intensive examination of the federal agency chosen
as the analytic focal point. This reflects the difficulty, though
certainly not the impossibility, of studying the importance of state
support of knowledge production on the form and content of the result.

Although my discussion is influenced by the Marxian-critical
tradition, the methodology is eclectic. This eclecticism is justified,
however, by the lack of unified framework in the sociology of knowledge
from.which to draw. I do, however, hope to accomplish at least the
following: 1) an examination of knowledge as a phenomenal outcome of
human activity, by approaching "social facts" as conditioned by social
factors which may guide or conceal our prejudgments of data; 2) the
positing of a number of "ifs" (e.g., g; facts are preformed by federal
intervention or epistemological bias; $§_the concepts and ideas of

research are primarily those of a dominant class (e.g., Marx, 1974: 64);

29

suggest how, i§_dominant ideas are perpetuated by state penetration,
a sociology of knowledge might be refined, by indicating significant
social factors which affect knowledge production; 3) The acquisition
of empirical data which can be integrated into a post-dissertation
examination of a) the ideological dimension underlying the reproduc-
tion of certain power relations which may be embedded in particular
forms of knowledge, b) some processes through which academics are
mobilized to study social control mechanisms, and c) factors which
may mediate both the formal political processes and dominant forms
of knowledge production in contemporary society, especially through
interaction processes which possibly generate various social and
structual contradictions; and 4) most importantly, a contribution to
the process of developing a theoretical framework capable of incor-
porating both the reconstruction of self-formative human activity
and the processes underlying and shaping this activity. This last
feature is important because if moderately successful, it will allow
for the possibility of avoiding both reductionism and objectivism,
while incorporating both subject and object within a historically-
grounded theory.

At this point, there appears to be no satisfactory methodological
alternatives to the ones I have adapted. But by retaining the
critical-theoretical commitment, I shall remain aware of the fundamen-
tal limitations of this study while recognizing the necessity to
transcend these limitations. At stake in such a modest project is
the acceptance of an underlying challenge issued by critics from
divers perspectives, that there can be no such thing as a sociology

of knowledge (e.g., Schroyer, 1973; Popper, 1965, 1972; Child, 19413,

3O

1941b; von Schelting, 1936: 674; who calls the sociology of knowledge
nonsense). At stake, then, is whether in fact it is possible to move
beyond ideology in order to transcend what Reis (1964) has called
"the images and the false authorities" in the historicity of human
transformative activity. The objective, if not immediate social

transformation, is at least modest theoretical transformation.

31
FOOTNOTES

1The term social research is used here, following Orlans'
discussion (1967: 2) of the generation of social knowledge. Social
research is a broader more neutral expression and suggests a commitment
to inquiry in the social domain than does "social science," or
"behavioral research," both of which are fraught with ambiguities
and definitional problems because of varying uses of social scientists.
The distinction between basic and applied research is here considered
irrelevant because of the often indistinguishable difference between
either. Further, there will be no distinction made between research
grants and contracts because of the often arbitrary distinction
between them (see, e.g., Horowitz and Katz, 1975: 148).

 

Support can, as Schaffter (1969: 50) reminds us, refer to the
source that furnished the funds or the source that expended funds to
pay for research. Sponsored research as used in this project refers
to funds furnished by the original source.

2State here refers to the legitimately sanctioned administrative
apparatus at the federal, state and county or municipal levels which
raise and expend revenues and govern residents. The emphasis is on
the federal level because of its primacy in guiding and regulating
aspects of social life (see, e.g., O'Connor, 1973).

3Chelimsky (1975) identifies the "new Federalism" as referring
primarily to Nixon’s policies of decentralizing federal projects and
reestablishing local control over federally-funded projects. But the
term appears to originate with Price (1964) and has been used also
to refer to Johnsonian policies of the 19603.

4Although the private sector has in the past, and continues to,
support social research, both the absolute and the proportional
degree of social research by private funding agencies have decreased
sharply in the last 20 years (see, e.g., NSF, 19733, 1973b; Historical
Statistics, 1970: 964-66; Ford Foundation, 1975; Guggenheim Foundation,
1975; Rockefeller Foundation, 1975).

SPositivism.is a broadly-defined term, and here refers to what is
also called, in later chapters, 3 social factist position. The term
positivism is used here to maintain the connotation of the intellectual
traditions identified with positivism which the term "Social factist"
does not convey. A more complete discussion of Social Factist positions
will appear in Chapter 5, Section I-D.

6These distinctions expand that of Welff (1943: 104), who
identified two attitudes dominant in the sociology of knowledge, the
first egpirical (which lies in "finding out or explaining concrete
phenomenon"), and the second speculative (in which the central interest
‘ is in developing through contemplation, theories of knowledge). These
correspond very generally, though not precisely, with positivist and
neo-Kantian positions.

 

32

7Style g£_thought refers to a particular mode of interpreting and
verifying our information regarding the world. W6r1d view is a broader
concept, and although it also provides an interpretative framework, it
includes the specific "global outlodk" either of an age or of an
individual. Wbrld view is used here instead of the German term
Weltanschauugg.

 

 

8The traditional materialist view emphasizes links to what might
be labelled "orthodox Marxism" in that "it has become codified in one
version by existing socialist regimes" (Peterson, 1979, personal
communication). This view also includes the positivistically oriented
political economists (e.g., Sherman, 1977; Syzsmanski, 1977), and
Structuralists (e.g., Godelier, 1978, Althusser, 1970; Castells,
1977). ,

The second view stresses links to the Hegelian dialectical
tradition and draws more heavily from idealism, and might be labelled
"western Marxism” (see, e.g., Anderson, 1977), and includes critical
theorists (e.g., Schroyer, 1973; Habermas, 1972, 1973) and others
(e.g., Kosik, 1976; Sartre, 1963).

9A3 Chris Vanderpool has observed (personal communication), the
influence of the state has always been a focal point of inquiry in
the sociology of science, in which state policy toward science has
been examined as far back as the early Chinese dynasties. But
discussions of state influence have remained primarily descriptive,
and have not been developed at the theoretical level. The post-
industrial state particularly has systematically organized personnel
and techniques for the production of knowledge, making such a theory
of the contemporary state especially useful for understanding the
development of social research.

33

Chapter 2: The Sponsorship-Research Connection

 

THEORETICAL ISSUES

 

Although there has been a large body of literature addressing
both state and privately sponsored research, there have been few
studies which empirically examine the actual effects of this
relationship, and fewer still which examine the degree to which
state science policy1 and patronage may effect the form, content,
and practical implications of the state-research partnership.

The purpose of a review of the literature discussing sponsored
research is three-fold. 3333;, it will provide a review of what has
been done, what topics are considered important for discussion, and
the general views of the patroneresearcher relationship held by
observers. Second, it will provide an occasion to review the back-
ground assumptions (Gouldner, 1971: 29) from which discussion and
inquiry proceeds. This includes an identification of the presupposed
general ontology which provides a conceptual view both of relevant
objects for analysis, and of the world in which such objects are
embedded. ‘Thipg, it will include the identification of the general
epistemological approach used in various studies so that we can
examine the kinds of analyses we are asked to accept as "understand-

ings,‘ and evaluate the consistency, adequacy and implications of
analyses in order to determine what kinds of understandings are
offered. Embedded in views of sponsored intellectual activity are
reflections of the features, assumptions, and attitudes about both

the nature of intellectual activity and the patrons of this activity.

Three perspectives of the private and federal sector sponsorship-

34

research connection can be identified and classified according to
1) the results and'purposes of research, 2) the flow of influence
between sponsorship and intellectual activity, and the value imputed
to such activity as seen by the commentators, and 3) how the various
perspectives fit within the three intellectual traditions identified
in the previous chapter.2
The perspectives of the relationship between science and sponsor-

ship fall into three general categories:3 1) Instrumental,
2) Enlightenment, or discovery-push, and 3) criticism. Three
additional categories, although relatively common, are not included

in this review. These were excluded because, although providing use-
ful supplemental information, they only tangentially bear on the
funding-research connection. The fipgp are "how to" essays describing
how to set up tax-free donations (e.g., Taft, 1967). Second are
reports by government agencies or related commissions addressing how
sciences might be better integrated into politics (e.g., Reports,
1969a, 1970, 1971a, 1971b); or how policy might improve social science
(Reports, 1969b); or how the efficiency of the relationship can be
improved (e.g., Reports, 19623, 1970b); or why the relationship should
exist at all. This latter type usually centers around defenders of,
and hucksters for, the relationship who appear before fiscal watch-
guards during allocating time (e.g., Reports, 1955, 1960, 1962b, 1970c,
1971c). Ipipd_are histories describing the growth of intellectual
activity and its sponsorship. Several excellent studies provided
historical background useful for this project, including Rashdall's
(1895) class analysis of the universities of Great Britain and Europe

from medieval times through the 19th century. Ross's (1976) historical

35

analysis of the universities of Great Britain, the United States and
Medieval Europe provides excellent material for understanding the
importance of outside aid and influence in the growth of the
universities as centers of intellectual activity. Werks by Baritz
(1960), Rivlin (1961), Dupree (1957), Kidd (1959), Dupre and Lakoff
(1962) and Miller (1970) each provide, from various perspectives,
useful discussion of the late-19th century growth of research.
B.L.R. Smith (1975), Schaffter, (1969) and Lyons (1971) each provide
detailed discussion of government involvement in specific research
agencies. Klare (1969) and Gouldner (1968a) have presented in-depth
accounts of research sponsored by the Department of Defense, and

I. Horowitz (1974) has focused on one specific government project,
Project Camelot, in describing the history, effects and implications
of research. The three remaining perspectives that will be addressed
correspond roughly to each of the three intellectual traditions
identified in Chapter I.

1. Instrumental. The first perspective, corresponding to the
social factist view, might be called the instrumental perspective.
It contains a sometimes-latent, sometimes-direct practical component
in that knowledge is viewed as a disinterested practice which guides
policy and activity, and is seen as providing a basis for a social
engineering effort. This view contains two variations

3. Demand Full. The first is a demandepull perspective, and

 

focuses on the relationship between funding and research. It views
sponsorship as both beneficial and necessary, and views knowledge as

turned towards 3 practical "good" by policy implementation. Knowledge

36

is need-induced, and research becomes an instrument in the hands of

 

specialists trying to meet specific social needs. writers proceeding
from this perspective stress the role of science in formulating
policies, addressing and overcoming specific social crises or problems,
or contributing to the general welfare by offering specific solutions
to social, economic, political or ecological questions. Research is
viewed as a servant of those controlling it. Some concede the
possibility that funding may politicize research (e.g., Game, 1971;
Kash, 1972; Hall, 1972), but such politicization is judged to be
benign. Hallet (1971: 39), for example, has argued that politiciza-
tion occurs not because of heinous public policies or Machiavellian
government programs, but rather because researchers have misused
their academic positions for their own political and social ends.
Some researchers (e.g., wohlstetter, 1964; Brodie, 1964) have
emphasized the instrumental value of both scientists and of knowledge,
especially the former because their expertise and insights are
judged to directly contribute to "responsible" policy making.
Government, then, is seen as supporting science because of its
importance to national security and welfare. Science, it is judged, .
cannot flourish without government support (e.g., Kreidler, 1964: 142).
Thus, science and government are viewed as necessarily and inextricably
bound in a symbiotic partnership for the good of both. Wescoe (1970)
has argued that universities are change-making institutions enabling
society to become accommodated to changing needs, and former MSU
president John Hannah, once acting Under-Secretary of defense in the
19503, went a step further and argued that the role of the university

is to mold the nation's youth into functional citizens in our economic

37

system, and he once told a 1961 parents' convocation at Michigan State
University:

Our colleges and universities must be regarded as bastions of

our defense, as essential to the preservation of our country

and our way of life as supersonic bombers, nuclear-powered
submarines, and intercontinental ballistic missiles (cited in

Klare, 1969).

A large body of literature from.this perspective focuses upon
the growth of state-sponsored policy-oriented research, and upon
personnel involved in these activities, and upon the functions
research fulfills. Brooks (1964), for example, has distinguished
five advisory functions of scientific advisers sponsored by the
federal government, and Horowitz and Katz (1975) have identified
four models of policy-oriented social science.“ Another policy
approach is reflected in the Open-systems model of the study of the
emerging relationship between federal expenditures and the university
(e.g., Vandervelde and Miller, 1975). They argue that through the
mechanism of federal aid, government responses to serious national
problems are a means of system.maintenance, and they attempt to
demonstrate how, by viewing cities as a living system composed of
organized and interacting parts, an urban grant university could
churn out knowledge which might be employed to formulate policies to
specific urban problems, thus maintaining systemic equilibrium.

Despite misgivings about the dangers of the nature of some
patronage (e.g., Horowitz and Horowitz, 1971: 193), some critics of
particular features of research sponsorship view support in general,

as essentially beneficial. B.L.R. Smith, a former student of

Don K. Price's at Harvard, and later a RAND corporation analyst, has

38

acknowledged an increasing ideological battle underlying conflict
between the private and state sectors in the shift toward greater
roles for government in research activity, but he argues that proper
management decisions can guide the federal government in addressing
actual or potential crises which may occur. Smith (1966: 254) prefers
policy research to be done by private corporations, not by the
universities, in order to keep the latter free from client influence.

Others see the universities especially as conditioned by national
development, and research is viewed as necessary to promote economic
and political growth. Knowledge becomes in this view a vital invest-
ment (e.g., McCormack and Fuller, 1968; Silk, 1960; Oates, 1970;
May, 1970), and some feel that the only criticism to be made of
government sponsorship of research is that the government is not
giving enough (e.g., Williams, 1970; Rivlin, 1970; Auburn, 1970;
Bowen, 1970; Millett, 1970). Turner (1967: 115) has argued that the
central issue in our complex 20th century society is management of an
industrial society, not a "falsely hypothesized capitalist-proletariat
conflict," and the universities must take the lead and assist private
enterprise in managing, initiating, and executing better management
of global affairs. Thus, intellectual activity must be oriented towards
solving the problems of corporate capitalism.and sponsored intellectual
activity will provide a profitable return.

Others who view sponsored research and the resultant knowledge
as an instrumental investment include Case (1965), Harrar (1965), and
Machlup (1962: 37). Case sees aid abroad as a means of sponsoring

projects which can serve as a training facility for the recipient

39

nations. For Harrar, grants facilitate establishment of permanent
fronts that help achieve social and intellectual continuity, and in
general ultimately facilitate capital accumulation. Broughton

(1965: 27) sees foundations as "investment bankers of the public
sector," and Jordan (1959) has described how since Tudor England,
elite groups have learned that ostensible generosity can contribute
to maintaining public order and manipulate social changes through
instrumentally greasing the appropriate wheels. Tybout (1972: 153)
has concluded that if private benefits are expected in sufficient
amount, these will justify private investment in, and commitment to,
R&D projects, and he even proposes a National Institute of Technology
to divert public funds towards industrial research-a means of social-
izing costs in order to increase private profits.

Some observers, however, while supporting patronage of research
in principle, are critical of the methods of resource allocation
(e.g., Boulding, 1962, 1971; Dror, 1960, 1971; Chinitz, 1971).

Others are critical of the lack of attention given to particular
topics (e.g., Wing, 1973).

The instrumentalist perspective, then, sees research as deriving
largely from.the response to problems and puzzles occurring external
to science itself. Research does not occur "for its own sake," nor
does it derive from a scientific ideal or primarily in response to
an internal logic. Rather it is part of a tension between needs of
society (as defined either by clients or "experts") on the one hand,
and the activities of researchers to meet those needs on the other.
Research is mainly understood as the practical activity of persons

addressing concrete social, political and economic problems. Unlike

40

the next discussed enlightenment model, research sponsors are not
viewed as a benevolent force. The state, for example, is considered
a coordinating instrument employed to resolve puzzles in society,

the solution of which are necessary for a smoothly functioning and
profitable system. Analytically, the focus of this prespective is

on the instrumental function that knowledge serves in "improving
society" according to unproblematic norms, goals or values. This
requires adherents to focus primarily on funded activity in relation
to the types of problems addressed and the results attained in apply-
ing research findings to these problems. The needs of the social
system stimulate research rather than the other way around, and

these needs prod researchers to produce appropriate knowledge. Unlike
the discovery-push view inherent in the enlightenment model in which
autonomously-acting researchers produce knowledge which in turn

leads to social reform, the demand-pull model presents research as
shaped by the sponsors who in turn are responding to perceived
societal needs which demand reform or technological development, and
this response pulls science activity along in its wake (e.g., Ashbee,
1974).

b. OrganizationalAperspective. This second variant abstracts

 

almost entirely from the content of research or the values of research

outcome or content. The organizational perspective is concerned

 

especially with research as part of a "system” or as a form of organi-
zation. Adherents focus primarily on the research and allocation
policies of agencies or recipients, or on the bureaucratic processes
of rule-making, rule-applying and rule-guided behaviors, or on the

organizational structure of research or funding agencies. The analytic

41

concern is with development of organizational theory rather than
development of theories of research sponsorship, and sponsorship is
used as the entry-point into an examination of bureaucracy or formal
organizations. Far more empirical than the often-polemical demand-
pull variant, these approaches typically study the organizational
dynamics operating within, or outside of, the organization.5 As Burns
(1966: 168) has argued, two directions have typically been taken by
organizational theorists, and these directions are observable in this
perspective. First are those who construct typologies of bureaucratic
forms, with key variables being environmental change or conflict
(e.g., Sebring, 1977; Pfeffer, Salancik and Leblebici, 1976; Staw and
Szawajkowski, 1975; Dowling and Pfeffer, 1975; Vogel, 1974); charac-
teristic forms of utility produced or of means of producing it
(e.g., Seiber, 1972; Machlup, 1962; Marxsons, 1972; MeNaul, 1972;
Hall, 1972); authority structures (Child, 1973; Ouchi and McGuire,
1975); or organizational goals, growth, or development (e.g., Sundquist,
1978; Siedman, 1975; Kallen, 1966). Second is the development of
behavioral theory of organizations informed by decision theory
(e.g., Salancik and Pfeffer, 1974; (Pfeffer and Salancik, 1974).
Although organizational studies have been subject to internal
critiques by practitioners (e.g., Pennings, 1975; Terreberry, 1968),
the popularity of this perspective may be increasing. The organizational
perspective posits a world that operates according to static "laws."
Human action is a dependent variable or an irrelevant variable, and
organizations become abstract reifications of an objectified concep-
tual apparatus. This perspective attempts to understand sponsorship

of research by examining forms of organization of funder and recipients,

42

and the assumptions about goals, means, successes, costs, or problems
are typically provided by the organization itself.

Both variants have several limitations. Each perceives the
object of analysis, whether organizational features or processes, or
the outcomes or purposes of research, as autonomous activity which
may be reduced to a phenomenon Operating independently of other
'social elements. Further, historical processes are excluded from
analyses, as are ideological factors or historically-shaped alterna-
tives for practical organizational activity. Even though knowledge
production is viewed as deriving from societal need or organizational
decision-making and not developed autonomously (as it is for the
discovery-push model) knowledge production is nonetheless seen as
being amenable to examination in isolation from other forms of
social organization (e.g., division of labor, relations of production,
and culturally and socially-defined meanings) which underlie such
decisions. Both variants reflect, therefore, a reduced and partial
view of funded intellectual activity in which both sponsorship and
research activity are routinized, rationalized and ritualistic.

The topic of analysis becomes not so much sponsored research as the
dynamics or the utility or importance of the organizations which do
the funding or researching. Power relations between research and
patron are ignored, as are the power relations between those employ-
ing the results of the research and those affected by the application.
Power relations, insofar as they are examined, to be the internal
power relations operating between stratified layers of an organiza-

tional hierarchy. For the organizational variant, the methodological

43

focus is on discovering laws governing behavior of individuals within
organizations or governing the dynamics of organizational operations
and growth. Both approaches, then posit a world of pure objectivity
in which those forces which structure activity, social structure, and
social institutions become invisible, and the historical and exis-
tential characteristics and dynamics of organizations, research
processes, policy needs or social relations are not viewed as contin-
ually changing over time, but are temporally frozen. This results in
a one-sided and distorted view of the object of analysis by eliminat-
ing the human subject as a self-transforming social subject. In short,
the instrumental perspective tells us little about the relationship

of funding to research activity, despite the sometimes-useful insights
provided into the uses of research for policy-making.

Further, this position tends to view ideology as a political
factor to be tolerated or wary of (demand-pull), or as a variable
affecting the operations of an agency within its environment. Neither
view both ideology and organizational structure, processes or outcomes
as possible epiphenomena of a larger social totality. Both see
research as necessary to overcome problems and help to preserve an
established social order, rather than as a tool for exploring substan-
tially new alternatives for social organization.

In short, the results and purposes of research are not examined
beyond the immediate requirements of funders, nor are the implications
of "findings" pursued for the purpose of discovering their potential
ramifications. Nor is the very structure of knowledge examined for

the purpose of understanding both epistemological and practical

44

limitations of research, and the goals, values and premises upon which
both funding activity and knowledge production themselves lie remain
unproblematic. The uncritical acceptance of sponsorship and the
consistent neglect to examine the practical bonds which connect
knowledge as instrument to its application (actual or potential) which
such sponsorship creates and serves, fatally weakens this view as

one capable of providing adequate understandings about funded research
activity.

2. Enlightenment perspective. The second general perspective
of sponsored research views the twentieth century as a period of
progressive humanism, and research patronage thus reflects attempts
to contribute to human freedom through the search for truth. Unlike
the demand-pull perspective, which views societal need as shaping how
knowledge production develops, this perspective is one of discovepy-
pp§h_in that social and theoretical changes flow from discoveries of
disinterested scholars pursuing knowledge by following a logic
internal to the scientific process itself. Intellectual activity, in
this view, is autonomous in that it occurs for its own sake, even
though knowledge ultimately benefits individuals and society by
enlightening both.

For some observers, research progress conforms to an idea.
Adherents of this view typically present apologias for patronage of
research and higher education (as the proper medium for research
activity), and often have direct ties with patronage agencies.6
John Dewey (1946: 107) defended support of science because he judged
it to be the ultimate answer to the unity of the individual and

community. Dewey felt that operation of "cooperative intelligence

45

as displayed in science is a working model of the union of freedom
and authority." From.this perspective, science is an autonomous
activity-~it is principally the pursuit of truth and is accountable
to nothing and to no one who is not a part of that pursuit (Kaplan,
1964: 3; Price, 1965). Others would agree, and would add that both
state and corporate philanthropy (as foundation support of research
is often called) is intended to, and in fact does, gratify human
needs by preserving human freedom and extending academic freedom.and
knowledge primarily through expansion of an enlightened consciousness,
an ideal consciousness, rather than by technical application of
research outcomes to specific problems, as in the demand-pull view
(e.g., Kidd, 1959; Andrews, 1950; 1956; 1965; Dickinson, 1962; Hardee,
1962; Sloan, 1951; Marts, 1953; Sieber, 1972). Foundations, for
instance, are viewed as public trusts employed to support research
and "do good" for society (e.g., Reeves, 1970: 40; Andrews, 1950,
1965). Emerson Andrews, former director of philanthropic research at
Russell Sage Foundation, has argued that foundations are oriented
towards "doing good works" (Andrews, 1950: 27-42), and has written
that foundations

. . .are the only important agencies in America free from.the

political controls of legislative appropriations and pressure

groups, and free from.the necessity of tempering programs to

the judgments and the prejudices of current contributors

(Andrews, 1965: 6).
This view that foundations are a-political and consequently able to
support unconstrained research is shared by others who submit that
foundation support reflects the measure of civilization and love for

humankind by the sponsors (Marts, 1953: 3), and that private

patronage of research and education is a reflection of the "spirit of

46

unselfish men“ (Marts, 1953: 31), or that patronage reflects generous
persons afraid of outliving their income (Dickinson, 1962: 30). The
general view of foundations as motivated by highly idealistic motives
(e.g., watson, 1970; Reeves, 1970) is summed by Hardee (1962: 109):

This product of the capitalist society, which distributes some

of the rewards of capital to cultural and humanitarian activities,

is a tangible result of the realization by property owners and

managers of duties and responsibilities over and above those
imposed by law. It is likewise a refutation of the dogma that

American culture is purely materialistic.

Universities, the primary centers of funded intellectual activity,
are viewed variously as bastions of free and untrammelled research
activity which will ultimately solve most of the nation's problems
and meet most of its needs (e.g., Kerr, 1971; Brewster, 1970), or
as knowledge factories cranking out researchers, personnel and
information (e.g., Knight, 1960; Hester, 1970) according to an "ideal"
(Kerr, 1964: 85; Whlff, 1969), which in turn will lead to an enlightened
society. For some observers, notably Price (1962, 1964, 1965),
science has changed the political and economic relations of society.

In his classic work on the scientific estate, Price (1962) poses the
image of scientific patronage by the state as a benevolently neutral
force whose more-or-less autonomous practitioners are not at all
oriented or concerned with political power, nor affected by external
political forces, but who nonetheless engage in activities which
have in part contributed to a fusion of the public and private
economic sectors. Price's basic assumption is that state sponsoring
agents make decisions according to rational considerations which are

intended to impartially present all sides of a question and select

the most appropriate solutions, which would appear to put him within

47

the ranks of the demand-pull analysists, except that Price views
research as a free and unconstrained activity and politicization
occurs at the policy level, not in the research process itself.
For Price, knowledge production itself is always objective and
disinterested, and the outcomes are detached from political influence
or meddling. Scientific researchers, as neutral experts detached
from politics, represent a "fourth estate" (Price, 1965), existing
alongside the administrative, political and professional estates, each
of which may try to control the scientific estate.7

Like Price, Nagi and Corwin (1972: 9), B. Barber (1952), and
Merton (19683) have each viewed science as a disinterested, autonomous
activity with the primary goal being "truth." For Barber, science is
a moral enterprise, and he suggests that basic research, because it
is unfettered by needs of practicability, is even more moral than
applied research (1952: 84-100). Communality and disinterestedness
are the two primary features of science, and the intent (as well as
the reward) in scientific activity is in "doing good." The rewards
to practitioners are nonmaterial, and industrial research particularly
has contributed much to American welfare and scientific advance.
Merton has argued that the primary goal of science is the extension
of "certified knowledge," and he, like Barber, views science as
"communistic" (i.e., egalitarian and communal), and disinterested
activity (Merton, 19683: 604-15).

J. R. Killian, the first science adviser to the President of the
United States, has argued that C. P. Snow's fears of government misuse
of research are obviated by the organizational independence of

Presidential advisory committees and other mediating agencies standing

48

between science and the state apparatus (Killian, 1962: iiidv).

Killian has pleaded for more scientists and engineers to participate

in scientific activities oriented towards policy and public administra-
tion. Killian's views reflected the transition from "old" anti-
Federalist to new state-interventionist attitudes towards research
activity which occurred in the transition periods of the 19508. This
transformation of attitudes, as Price (1964: 35) has argued, has
broken down the former political opposition to Federal involvement

in programs insofar as such patronage is seen as a defense of the

"American way,"

even though, as Price notes with some irony, such
intervention sometimes "involved more government controls that some
avowedly socialistic states have ever managed."

The belief that scientists-as-practitioners must be supported
derives from the position that scientists have become a necessary
elite, whether political (e.g., Price, 1965), or a-political (WOod,
1964: 69), capable of providing expertise to policy makers. Others
who argue for an elite of knowledge-producing technocrats include
Flash (1971), Lackoff (1971), Lyons (1971), and Reicken (1971).

This elite, it is judged, would serve the public interest to prevent
ideological interests from interferring with decision-making (e.g.,
Lyons, 1971). More recently, Primack and von Hippel (1974) have
contended that scientists must use their expertise to exert political

and legal pressure to compel government and industry to responsibly'

apply the products of research and to implement responsible policies.*

 

*Contrast this view with Ravetz (1977), for example, who argues
that scientists are individually cut off from social decisions and
their consequences by remoteness and by subservience (1977: 86).

49

Emerging from this discussion are several features embedded in
this perspective. jgipgg, is the perception that research conforms
to, or is guided by, an abstract ideal of knowledge or truth towards
which practitioners strive. Methodologically, the relationship
between research and its sponsors may be understood by comparing the
existing state of affairs against the standards posited as "ideal."
The methodological focus falls upon the internal dynamics of scientific
processes, and upon the logic which guides research.

Second, from this perSpective, knowledge production is viewed
as free and unrestricted, and it proceeds according to internally-
motivated theoretical principles (e.g., Goodwin, 1975). The federal
research connection is viewed as asymmetrical. Although scientists
may be viewed as having significant input into government policy,
research itself is nonetheless not seen as particularly affected by
politicization at the practitioner level, but is affected rather by
internal conditions resulting from the actual practice of research
activity. Consequently, sponsorship of research is seen as a valuable
and necessary activity, not because of its instrumental effectiveness,
but because it contributes to the growth of science, and leads, there-
fore, to enlightenment. Practitioners must therefore be supported
so they can expand empirical and theoretical limits (i.e., create
knowledge) which in turn will pp§p_social or structural change in other
areas of society. One assumption underlying this model is that there
exists free and unconstrained rational dialogue between scientists
and policy makers and that research problems and procedures are

decided upon the basis of "the better argument, and not through

political decisions or outside influences, and that policy decisions

50

are made on the basis of solid evidence of "science,“ not on factors
external to science. This perspective is highly ideological in that
research is viewed as intrinsically "enlightened," "good," even moral.
Research as a work process is viewed as containing intrinsic rewards
for the practitioners; funded research is viewed as rewarding activity.
Further, adherents of this perspective typically assume either tacitly
or explicitly that the goals of corporations, universities, or govern-
ment correspond to something called "society's goals." Thus, state
patronage of research and academic expansion in the universities and
in industry are viewed as indispensable and interrelated features of

a "national interest."

Although some observers concede that occasionally some goals may
require modification, the view is that not only is there no contradic-
tion between goals of private and research interests, but the goals
of both can be fostered, and any conflicts overcome through continued
support of research. The consistent belief of adherents of this model
is that with proper reform.of practitioners and with attention to
moral problems and corresponding consideration and integration of
policy implications into research, scientists in general, and social
scientists in particular can play an effective role in improving
society by generating the correct knowledge and using their positions
as an informed elite to influence state policy into making elightened
decisions. This leads to inattention to power relations by adherents
of this approach, since intellectual activity is viewed as divorced
from power influence. These studies also become apologias for more

science activity as well as more patronage to support it.

51

In sum, from this perspective, knowledge of the funding-research
connection is severed from.the material component of practical social
activity, and knowledge and its production assume the appearance of
an independent existence.

3. Sponsorship critics. The two previous perspectives tend

 

to be supportive of sponsorship, ranging from wildly enthusiastic

to tacitly sympathetic. A third perspective, reflecting two variants,
covers a variety of positions, but is distinguished from.the previous
perspectives by one particular shared feature: They are, for varying
reasons, highly critical of research patronage. The two variants,

the first, a collection of general criticisms, the second reflecting
a Marxian-oriented, or class-dialectical model differ from each other
in that the general criticisms a) lack systematic analysis of the
growth or development of knowledge, of its applications, and of the
problems underlying the ideological biases and consequences of research,
and b) tend to be highly rhetorical and lacking in empirical support.
The Marxian positions, in contrast, with varying degrees of success
attempt systematic analysis of concrete topics, and while these, too,
may tend towards rhetoric, they nonetheless attempt reasoned judgment
supported by concrete analysis.

a. General criticisms. In this view, patronage is viewed as

 

potentially dangerous because it represents concerted action by agents
representing some power structure and possesses the potential or
tendency to repress, even enslave, social members. There is alarm in

the writings of these* observers, a warning against the dangers of an

 

*Perkins and Wood (1960) have provided an excellent summary of
some of the early writers who have felt that patronage of research,
especially by the state, created latent dangers.

52

often-unidentified foe attempting to impose its will and attain its
interests through sponsorship of research. Sometimes these warnings
are well-reasoned and cogent. C. P. Snow, for example, was one of
the earliest critics of sponsored research. Snow saw a dangerous
tension between "freedom," as reflected in those forms of social
organization which guided the application and shaped the content of
such activity. Snow's famous warning against the dangers of biased
and mistaken scientific advice which, when implemented by governments
or sponsors seeking to support vested or short-sighted interests has
been repeated by other observers. Some of these observers view
patronage as fundamentally conservative (e.g., Young, 1965; Lindeman,
1970), and Patman's Congressional probe of private foundations in

the early 1960s reinforced a "conspiracy" view of the conservative
nature of foundations when it uncovered financial abuses and discovered
that many smaller foundations were linked to the CIA, as have more
recent disclosures of CIA involvement and manipulation of government
agencies, universities, and foundations. Nielson (1972), for example,
has argued that private grant-making foundations, despite their
potential as mechanisms for reform, represent a virtual denial of
America's basic democratic ideals. He calls foundations aristocratic
institutions living on privileges and indulgence of an egalitarian
society (Nielson, 1972: 3), and Schorr (1971) agrees. In his cynical
view, state-sponsored research promotes greed by perpetuating public
values through uncritical state policies. Raskin (1971) goes one
step further and employs the metaphor of a body-politic divided into

over-lapping "knowledge colonies." In Raskin's view, knowledge

53

becomes a means by which the state perpetuates repressive authority
structures and dominates its "subjects."

Others have an equally cynical view of the dangers of the
relationship between patronage of research and its potential results.
Some suggest, in contrast, that social scientists have a strong
personal anti-industry research bias. Radom (1970) has asked
industrial social scientists if they serve industry needs; they said
"no." So Radom concludes that Baritz' contention of a funding-research
connection is a potentially bias-laden relationship is mistaken.
Orlans (1973) continues his earlier conservative cynicism (e.g.,
Orlans, 1967, 1971) and argues that social science research is far
more limited than either establishment or radical critics contend,
and serves instead as a rationale for political action or inaction
and as a mode of political discourse. This, he implies, makes a
question of bias irrelevant, since results are not intended for
instrumental purposes anyway. R. J. Barber (1966) has argued that
federal science policy through the mid-19603 was not an effective
means for expressing national goals for uses of scientific resources,
but the problem is one of planner bias, not of misplaced optimisms in
utility of research.

In contrast, Baritz (1960) has argued that the social sciences
are powerful instruments in improving corporate goals. Baritz has
concluded that the sponsorship of knowledge production subverts the
critical function of scientists because those who control purse strings,
he argues, can and often do, effectively trigger intellectual abandon-
ment of "wider obligations of the intellectual who is a servant of his

own mind" (Baritz, 1960: 194). Green (1971) echos Baritz, and argues

54

that involvement of social scientists with government poses serious
threats to the independence of social science which may affect the
categories of discourse and more broadly, the selection and structure
of problems to be studied. This view has received support from

Van Dyne (1976) and Ridgeway (1969). Rosenthal, Jacobson and Bohm
(1976), too, have convincingly demonstrated that university research
into nutritional value of certain foods becomes dangerously biased
when the professors have direct or even indirect connections with
food corporations.

In another vein, Deutscher (1966), Gouldner (1968) and Broadhead
and Rist (1976) have all warned against the blind unproblematic
alliance between sociology and upper bureaucracies of the welfare
state, which in Gouldner's words (1968: 11) could only produce the
"market research of liberalism." Hoult (1968) and Nicolaus (1972)*
were less than subtle when they extended the argument against the
client-agency trend they perceived among sociologists. Hoult,
critiquing the value-neutrality position of mainstream sociology, has
called for an activist orientation among sociologists to counteract
the conservative trend among researchers, and has labelled a-political
scientists "cowards and cads." Nicolaus went one step further.
Responding to Talcott Parsons' view that sociologists' research
represents a "marriage" between academic professionals and "practical

men," Nicolaus suggested that this reflects not as much a marriage as it

 

*Nicolaus ordinarily writes from an explicit Marxian position,
but his here-cited works criticizing research are not based in a
Marxian framework, thus justifying his inclusion under the category
of "general criticisms."

55

does brothel activity, with sociologists in the "subservient“ female
role (Nicolaus, 1972: 46—7).

Others, however, feel the dangers of sponsorship of intellectual
activity comes not from conservatives, but from the penetration of
liberal or leftist ideas into research. Orlans (1973), for example,
while conceding that there is in principle nothing wrong with social
reform, nonetheless warns of a "protagonist" flavor in social science,
intended to generate social reform through government support.

Rush (1972) sees the universities as a phase in a Marxist-Leninist
plan to wreck the nation, a view seemingly shared in part by former
San Francisco State University president and current member of the
U.S. Congress S.I. Hayakawa (1971), and Wormser (1958). That latter
has gone so far as to argue that communists and leftists have
infiltrated foundations weakening the free-enterprise system with

their "philosophy of giving,‘ especially to reform (i.e., "socialist")
projects.

Others are uncomfortable with sponsored research, particularly by
that of the state, not so much because of a fear of a left-wing or
right-wing conspiracy, but because of a perceived politicization of
knowledge (e.g., McHale, 1965; Lyons, 1971; Hallett, 1971). Some have
warned that research is challenged or reinforced by the value structures
of clients (e.g., Miller, 1968; Denizen, 1970), and Blume (1974: 1)
has argued that the social institution of modern science is essentially
political and that the scientific role is an integral part of the
political system of the modern state. It is Blume‘s view that

. . .extrinsic social and cultural values of scientists, their

other roles, and their loyalties other than to science typically

intrude into the evaluation and control process in science (Blume,
1974: 78).

56

This theme has been developed more thoroughly by Salomon (1973) who
locates the source of this politicization in 925p the political system
and within the scientific process itself:

. . .there is no need to indict the economic form of modern

societies, their political regimes or their ideologies to

account for the alienation of the researcher from the state.

The essence of contemporary science is that it is both

organized research and the deliberate exploitation of its

results (Salomon, 1973: xv).

For Salomon, the relationship between science and power is governed
not by the logic or values of scientific thought, but is contingent
upon partisan and conflicting pressures of the political processes
(Salomon, 1973: 144).

Other critics have attempted to demonstrate how patronage
politicizes research. Krohn (1972) argues that politicization
underlies the transformation of research patterns in recent years.
His view challenges the technological growth explanation which holds
that the changing patterns in university structures and in research
patterns reflect a response to technological development (see, e.g.,
Ashbee, 1974), and instead locates the source of this transformation
in qualitative or structural changes of society. Carter (1967) has
challenged the oft-accepted (and self-stated) NSF goal that funds to
support academic research are impartial rather than policy-oriented.
He cogently argues that much NSF "basic" research has significant,
though indirect, policy implications. He cites how penetration of
NSF funds, such as those allocated to the Brookings Institute for
research on econometric models of the U.S. economy, lead to significant

and practical conclusions about U.S. fiscal policy. Friedland (1976)

has suggested that federal funding on all levels is shaped by demands

57

of special interest constituencies, rather than allocated on the

basis of need or on an immanent rationale. In a related context,
Frieden and Kaplan (1977) have convincingly argued that allocation

of government resources is not necessarily decided on the basis of
need, but instead is subject to particularistic criteria rather than
to a "best argument" approach. Focusing on two federal commissions,*
Wilson (1971, 1978), too, has shown how the politicization of
conclusions of state-sponsored social science research commissions
often depend upon the political views and attachment of the partici-
pants rather than on objective conclusions, and Lipsky and Olson
(1976) and Blauner (1968) have described how riot commissions, for
example, are not intended to extend knowledge so much as to provide
the state sector with a means of defusing riots by de-politicizing
them. This cosmetic feature of commission research is supported also
by Rist (1973) who criticizes the manner in which patronage of certain
kinds of research reflects impression management rather than rigorous
inquiry, by Flatt (1971) and Skolnick (1969), who have each criticized
commissions investigation, civil disturbances and racial tensions,

and by Lipsky (1971) who argued the government commissions tend to
contribute to the existence of various tensions through investigation

commissions.**

 

*Wilson examined the National Commission on Causes and Prevention
of Violence, and the Committee on Obsenity and Pornography.

**These arguments seriously challenge the view of Bell (1966)
who contends that federal commissions are one mechanism for integrating
social research into policy decisions.

58

Other more subtle critics have examined the effects of sponsored
research on specific topics. Galliher and McCartney (1973), for
instance; have demonstrated that trends in juvenile delinquency
research have been shaped by and accommodated to interests and emphases
of research patrons. McCartney (1970) has demonstrated that a "hard
data" approach seems to be favored by funding agencies, and this in
turn influences researchers to apply this approach to their research
in order to secure funding. McCartney (1971: 1) suggests that although
the argument that sponsorship of research determines trends in
research is oversimplified, nonetheless, with some exceptions, those
specialty areas that receive funding grow, while those that do not
receive funding, with but one exception (demography), decline.

One of the most interesting and prolific students of state
patronage of research has been Michael Useem, who has argued that
government sponsorship of social science research has significantly
influenced both the targets and the methodology of research. Useem
has attempted to develop an empirical argument demonstrating what he
calls the "externalist" view of paradigmatic influence. Useem shows
with some success that the federal government has managed to inject
its priorities into the research decisions of academic social
scientists (Useem, 19763: 160). He also suggests that the government's
objective to acquire policy-relevant research has lead to significant
paradigmatic changes among research practitioners (1976c: 625), and
has argued that state patronage of science and art represent a new
form of political and cultural domination (1976b). Although Useem

acknowledges that some state patronage appears to be oriented towards

59

projects of no apparent utility to the patronizing agency, such research
is likely to have a'conservative impact on the paradigms employed by the
recipients of funds since government criteria are gradually incorporated
into paradigms (Useem, 1976b: 799-800). Useem concludes that government
support for academic social research is not allocated in conformity with
the priorities of the social sciences, but rather is interest-oriented
(1976a), and further, that researchers come to adapt to an ideology of
the patronage agency in that the source of the practitioners' legitimiz-
ing ideology

. . .is the social scientist's direct relationship to the

government's program of research support. Those who receive

federal research funds are significantly more sanguine about

the benefits and operation of the funding system than are those

who are without sponsorship (Useem, 1976d: 230).

Useem adds that funded practitioners seem to be slightly more
liberal on political issues than nonfunded practitioners, but tend to
take a more conservative stance on the particular issue around which
their own research centers (Useem, 1976d: 230).

In sum, these criticisms range from mildly hysterical criticisms
to sophisticated and cogent arguments. But they are a-theoretical,
and tend to neglect the sources of the politicization they describe.

b. Class models.* With varying degrees of cogency and sophisti-
cation, some observers have contended that the class model of influence

is most useful in explaining the relationship between sponsorship and

research. This view identifies class domination as a form of

 

*Whitt (1979) employs the term "class-dialectical model" and avoids
the term "Marxist." Because not all class models presented in this
discussion are dialectical, the term "class model" is preferred to "class
dialectical" model.

6O

repression, and research patronage reflects an attempt to repress, or
to mediate class conflict and perpetuate a "ruling class" hold on
society. One of the earliest to analyze the relationship between
scientific inquiry and capitalism was Bernal (1952), who argued that
inquiry reflects profit-oriented activity rather than activity
intended to address human needs. Aptheker (1966, 1972) and D. Smith
(1974) have identified the business connections of the Regents of
the University of California in the 1960s. From this they conclude
that a "ruling class" controls the universities, and freely employs
university resources to suppress the working class and thereby
strengthen their own position.* For Aptheker (1972), research is
explained as 3 new productive feature of capitalism and reflects the
"proletarianization" of researchers, and will ultimately (and inev-
itably) bring "correct" Marxian theory to the working class in order
to guide revolutionary praxi . This view is shared in a somewhat
different, though related, context, by Syzmanski (1977), and Neble
(1977) in a cogent and well—researched analysis illustrates the
degree to which knowledge in the United States has increasingly been

integrated into, and now has itself become, a force p£_production.

 

Klare (1969) has demonstrated the degree to which universities
and research centers are dependent upon the support of a multiplicity

of defense projects, and his conclusion is that sponsored research

 

*Useem, gt; 31. (1976), however, have argued from their own studies
that there is little evidence to indicate that this position is valid, an
argument Useem (1978) develops further in arguing for a role-incumbency
theory rather than a capitalist-state theory of expanding federal
apparatus.

61

is strongly shaped by the needs of a military establishment which exists
for the protection of vested interests.

Other attempts to demonstrate ruling class connections between
patronage sources and the results of patronage include Schulman,
Brown and Kahn (1972) and David Horowitz. The Schulman group has
examined the Russel Sage Foundation as a case study of research
support. They argue that Sage professional practices (and by impli-
cation other funding agencies as well) mesh with the interests of
those who rule rather than with the interests of those ruled. By
focusing on organizational linkages, they conclude that Sage restricts
linkages to a social science elite, and this contributes to the
control of organizational structures of the sociology profession,
and they conclude that one effect of sponsorship is to decrease the
amount of knowledge available to the members of society to solve
their problems (Schulman, et 31., 1972: 33-4). David Horowitz
(1969a, 1969b, 1969c), too, has argued that corporate and state links
to research create a "brain trust" that serves that the needs of
capitalist production, and has argued:

Can anyone honestly believe that the foundations, which are

based on the great American fortunes and administered by the

present-day captains of American Industry and Finance, will
systematically underwrite research which tends to undermine

the pillars of the status quo, in particular the illusion

that the corporate rich who benefit most from the system do

not run it-at whatever cost to society-precisely to ensure

their continued blessings? And where will the venture capital

to establish the validity of radical ideas come from. . .?

(Horowitz, 1969b: 44)

Horowitz examines international research projects and so—called

national research centers specializing in foreign research, and

judges that the U.S. is producing a certain kind of knowledge that

62

is intended to increase production while maintaining the social
stability in countries in which U.S. corporations have heavily invested.*
He concludes:

. . .so long as discretion over the vast majority of research

funds and all innovative financing remains outside the university

community, it is fatuous to speak of disinterested scholarship

(Horowitz, 1969b: 44).

There have also been several excellent recent related analyses
of the relationship between state support of the educational system
and capitalism. Katz (1975), Bowles and Gintis (1976), Karrier,
Violas and Spring (1973), Cohen and Lazerson (1972) and Spring (1972)
have all attempted to show how the university structure and its
activities may be understood as the state's response to systemic
crises throughout the 20th century. This response, they argue reflects
both a transformation of the state and of capitalism, and also functions
to alleviate the political, economic and social tensions and better-
integrate competing classes into the production processes of corporate
capitalism.**

Despite differences among and between authors of each variant,
there are nonetheless several shared features. First, although not

all so far as Ledeen (1971) who has suggested that, like Fascist Italy,

social science research may pose a danger to society through a

 

*Compare this view with, for example, Case (1965) who, from the
same "factual" base presents an ideologically conflicting interpreta-
tion of foreign research projects. Case adopts a "White man's burden"
thesis, arguing that U.S.-based research funding emancipates the
"natives," thereby releasing them from their primitive existence.

**These views conflict sharply with the views of some theorists,
such as wood and Zuckerman (1970) who argue that class antagonisms
between universities and their environment are disappearing, or that
research has eliminated class distintions.

63

repressive, systematic amelioration of social problems, or Deutscher
(1972) who believes that the "tailor-made man" view prevalent among
social scientists is amenable to manipulation and leads to more
efficient controls and constraint there is nonetheless, a consistent
and urgent warning that both sponsored research as well as the
practice of sponsorship may constitute a form of repression that
must be guarded against. Second, knowledge, despite its emancipatory
potential, will not necessarily lead to enlightment unless the

power relations underlying the production of knowledge are recognized
and thwarted. Third, there is a consistent suspicion, even overt
hostility, towards sponsors-often recipients-of research funding.
This perspective views the results and purposes, the topics, the
theory, and the methodology of research as being influenced, shaped,
or even determined by the sponsoring agents in order to better meet
the needs of those agents. Here the similarities end.

The class view proceeds from a methodology which holds that the
social world may be explained by identifying specific forces which
shape and define the various features of it. The class position views
knowledge as being shaped both by structural features of society and
by the internal practices of scientific activity. Ideologically,
sponsored research, from this perspective, is viewed as a gg_§gg£g_
centralized effort which has become a force which heavily affects the
form, content and direction of scientific practices. Sponsored
intellectual activity is viewed as being organized by power relations
which lead to varying forms of unequal power, intellectual, economic,
and social stratification. Research is shaped by its patrons who

intend to use the knowledge produced for particularistic ends, but not

64

necessarily need-induced as for demand-pull. But unlike the demand-pull
model, the class-Marxian view does not view knowledge solely as a
dependent variable. Instead, knowledge is seen as both product and
producer of the social world and of persons involved in it. Although
knowledge may be used as a component of social engineering, class-Marxian
adherents do not view the outcomes of such applications as necessarily
beneficial, and in fact, they view it as detrimental as long as appli-
cation is guided by the particularistic goals of the principle of capital
accumulation. From this position, knowledge production is viewed as
being bound up with the interests of the social norms and structures
which guide and inform it. As a consequence, knowledge can become
constraining rather than emancipatory, thus setting the class-Marxian
adherents in Opposition with the discovery-push followers. In the class-
Marxian view there is an activist tone absent from.the other perspec-
tives (including the general criticisms) in that there is an action-
imperative urging change through some form of direct action. One task
for adherents is to identify the power relations and the sources that
guide knowledge in order to not only understand the state-research
connection, but to transform it.

The class—Marxian view, then although it subsumes divers positions,
attempts to overcome the subject-object distinction by viewing knowledge
production, both genesis and application, as an outcome of human
activity as shaped by class structure and system imperatives required
by the mode by which persons transform themselves and their social
world (i.e., the productive relations). Thus, both the concepts and
the application of the social organization of knowledge itself become

problematic.

65

CONCLUSION

 

These three perspectives correspond generally to the divers
views reflected in discussion of sponsored intellectual activity.
Although not logically exhaustive, they are theoretically and
methodologically exclusive insofar as they reflect incompatible
analytical focal points and interpretions from incompatible conceptual
frameworks. For a sociology of knowledge, the demand-pull and
enlightenment perspectives are inadequate for providing understandings
of the social origins of knowledge, specifically of the impact of
funding on intellectual activity. The latter conceptualizes knowledge
as an independent variable of sorts, and the social roots of knowledge
are posited as occurring internally to the scientific process itself.
The former position views knowledge as a dependent variable, pulled
along by social forces. Neither position grasps knowledge and sponsor-
ship as an interconnected process.

Further, these perspectives, then, with the exception of the
general criticisms,* correspond more-or-less to the three traditions
of thought outlined in the previous chapter. Both the instrumentalist
and enlightenment perspectives, corresponding to social factist and
neo-Kantian traditions respectively, maintain to varying degrees the
separation of the subject and object. The demand-pull approach

particularly views the knowledge-creating subject as reacting to

 

*The general criticisms are an exception because they represent
no consistent tradition. It is not that they are spread across the
three traditions, but because the three traditions are simply inappro-
priate for classification of these divers general criticisms.

66

external factors which exist more-or-less independently of the knowl-
edge production process. The subject (whether research or human agent)
of knowledge is not conceptualized as contributing to the construction
of the social world which demands the attention of knowledge production.
The enlightenment model maintains the subject-object split by viewing
the objective world as being largely the product of mental productions,
and the program is to explain social knowledge production in terms of
the mental processes (as scientific activity) that creates or shapes
the world.

Neither position views social knowledge production as a form.of
human production or reproduction processes which structure both the
social system which requires knowledge as well as the cognitive
apparatus (e.g., modes of perception and interpretive frameworks) of
researchers.

Adherents of the class model, on the other hand, attempt to
unify the subject and object by examining how social and structural
features, viewed as a process of human self-transformative activity,
shape, and in turn are shaped by, the production of knowledge, which
is itself part of structure-shaping activity. Whether the primary
analytic focal point is class and class struggle (e.g., D. Smith,
1974), or "system requisites" (e.g., Habermas, 1975), or some other
attempt to unify subject and object by viewing knowledge production
as one component of a larger social organizational process, all attempt,
in theory, to conceptualize both social knowledge production, the
practitioners who produce it, and the form of social organization of

the larger society, including the mode of organization by which knowledge

67

is produced as well as the mode of organization of society itself, as
essential ingredients of the problematic.

The task now becomes one of sorting out several of the questions
raised by the competing perspectives. An ggganizational analysis
will provide insights into the relationship between the state and
research, from which it should be possible to obtain insights into
how priorities are defined by funding agencies, how resources are
allocated, and what ideological factors may contribute to funding
decisions. A content analysis is intended to indicate the actual
impact of federal sponsorship on policing studies. In short, it is

now time to examine the federal connection to knowledge production.

68
FOOTNOTES

1Science policy here is generally defined as "... .the collective
measures taken by a government in order, gg_the one hand, to encourage
the development of scientific and technical research and, gn_£hg_other,
to exploit the results of this research for general political objec-
tives" (Salomon, 1977: 45-6). It includes, more specifically, gg_jure
procedures, the formal rationale as reflected in legislative mandates
and formal operating procedures, and gg_facto procedures, as reflected
in actual implementation of rules, rationale for action, and actual
outcomes.

 

2Although some variants discussed below are clearly models, even
theories, the term perspective is preferred here to model because
perspective suggests a general view to the study of funding which may
include divers theoretical or methodological approaches which nonethe-
less have other specific features (e.g., intellectual tradition, judg-
ment of research value). Model, on the other hand, can imply either an
analogy, a metaphor, or a specific set of rules and procedures for
inquiry which a general essay may not possess. Because many of the
studies lack a clear theoretical or empirical focus, the term perspec-
tive seems most appropriate. Further, perspective, as Mannheim.(1938:
273) reminds us, signifies the manner in which one views an object,-
what one perceives in it, and how the object is qualitatively construed
in thinking.

3Nielson (1972: ix) splits models of studies of foundations into
a) "self—congratulatory" outputs of foundations or their sympathizers,
and b) "the ill-informed screeds of the Old Right on the one extreme,
and the New Left on the other, and the neo-Knowaothings like George
wallace in between." Other models include Salomon's pluralistic]
centralization dichotomy corresponding to the U.S. and European systems,
respectively (Salomon, 1977: 49-50); and Useem's (l976b: 786—89) four
models of government as 1) responding to crises in arts and sciences,
2) government as response to economic crises, 3) government as consumer
of science and art for its own programs, and 4) government as construct-
ing scientific and cultural instruments to preserve ideological hegemony.
Other attempts at classification include Galliher and McCartney (1973:
77-8) and their trichotomy of a) apprehensive, b) benign and c) misuse
perspectives of patronage; Bohme‘s (1977) views of science as developing
according to models of a) normal and revolutionary science, b) continuity
models, and c) evolutionary/Darwinian models. Finally, Layton (1977)
identifies two models of deveIOpment: a) DiscoverybPush and b) Demand-
Pull. Models of scientific growth correspond to benefits (or dangers)
of patronage.

 

 

4Brooks lists the five as: 1) analysis of technical aspects of
major policy issues and interpretation of them for policy-makers.
2) evaluation of specific scientific or technological programs for the
purpose of aiding budgetary decisions or providing advice on matters
affecting public welfare or safety, 3) study of specific areas of science

69

or technology for the purpose of identifying new opportunities for
research or development in the "public interest," 4) advise on organi-
zational matters affecting science or a particular mission of an agency
involving the use of scientific resources and 5) advise in election

of individual research proposals for support (pp 74-5).

Horowitz and Katz identify the four models as l) a tool for
promoting social change, 2) a tool for controlling social change, and
3) a tool for identifying change and also for harnessing such change
for established agencies, and 4) more ambiguous is the model that
concerns the role of social science in technical improvement of agency
performance, that is, science as a measuring or evaluation service.

5Crozier (1972) has distinguished between institutional and
organizational analysis. Advocates of the former try to show why,
historically or functionally, a particular social activity takes on
a certain form, and emphasizes those features which determine forms
and models of organization, such as constraints imposed by history
and function and divers forms of interdependence (Crozier, 197: 240).
The critics in the general criticism variant tend to take an institu-
tional approach. Organizational analysis, on the other hand, is '
concerned not so much with details of the origin and development of
the various types of organizations, but is used to discover how
problems of cooperation within the organization as a whole, or between
the organization and its environment, can be resolved, and what skills
the different solutions require and at what cost.

6Among strong supporters of research funding who have an interest
in maintaining such support (not all of whom identify with the
perspective) include those connected with foundations (e.g., Marts,
Andrews, Sloan), or with sponsoring agencies (Killian, Orlans, Price),
or with recipient agencies (Alpert, B.L.R. Smith, waterman), or of
large universities (Hannah, Kerr, Brewster).

7The demand-pull view and some variants of the discovery-push
view (e.g., Price) both may share the characteristic of knowledge as
an instrumental means of reform or social change guided by "experts."
The difference is one of the source of knowledge and of the rationale
of application. The enlightment view considers knowledge production
as inspired by researchers freely plying their craft, driven by an
interest in transcendent values implied by "scientific truth." The
instrumental view considers knowledge as a means to an end as defined
by policy makers, not scientists, and knowledge production derives
from external needs, and is not guided primarily by processes internal
to science. In this latter view, researchers are primarily technicians.

70

Chapter 3: The Historical Connection

 

HISTORY OF FUNDED RESEARCH

Although it is not the purpose of this project to present
historical explanation or interpretation, a brief historical overview
is necessary to provide a background and to clarify and illustrate
assumptions and premises guiding later interpretations and conclusions.
Further, the support of research, especially social research, has
been, and continues to be, undergoing historical changes. Funded
social research practices in 1960, for example, were not identical
with what they have become in 1978. They have become more specialized,
more extensive, and more systematically managed and evaluated.
Sponsored research reflects a changing relationship between the state
and private sectors on one hand, and knowledge production activity
on the other, that has evolved in the United States over the past
three centuries. A historical section will provide an imagery of
sponsored research as a process of this continuing transformation to
help avoid viewing the patron/researcher connection as a static
relationship, temporally frozen. By placing policing studies within
the context of this on-going relationship, we should be able to more-
easily recognize how policing studies and agencies supporting policing
research reflect by a moment in a long transition period which has
become accelerated in the past half-century, especially in the past
two decades.

Government support of science in the United States goes back as
far as 1636 when the General Court of Massachusetts appropriated 400

pounds toward the founding of what later become Harvard College. But

71

’it wasn't until the new republic was formed after 1780 that a formal
relationship began to take shape. Unlike the experience of the new
French Republic, where the 17th century revolutionary messianism
politicized science and divided scientific study from control of the
State (Salomon, 1973: 18), in the new American Republic support of
science became primarily the responsibility of state agencies. Price
(1962: 31) has described how the American Revolution swept away the
united apparatus of authority based on that system:

Thus, the alliance between science and the republican rev-

olution first destroyed, and then rebuilt of a different

.pattern, the forms of organization and the systems of per-

sonnel that determine the practical working authority in

the modern state. '
The leaders of the new republic, especially Jefferson and Madison,
recognized the importance of science, and Madison unsuccessfully
attempted to include within the Constitution provisions for supporting
science, and he urged that premiums be granted to encourage scientific
inquiry (Dupree, 1957). In the late 18th and early 19th centuries,
state support was limited primarily to higher education through land
grants, especially through allocation of federal lands in the Heat.
Up through the Civil war, scientific research was conducted by
individuals, and advancement of knowledge derived from "practical
men“ rather than from systematic research (Dupree, 1957: 46).
Sponsorship of science by the state was §g_hgg, but during the Civil
war, the military advantages to be derived from research became
apparent, especially in transportation and weapons.

Following the war, government involvement in research declined,

although increasing support was given to agriculture through the land

grant colleges. The first Morrill Act, finally passed after six years

72

of Congressional wrangling, provided support for agriculturally-
oriented land grant colleges, and began organizing farming in the
1860's and 1870's. Prompted by a growing public interest in conserva-
tion from the 1880's, and pressured by lobbyists from land grant
colleges, especially those which had been conducting informal research
and experimentation and even organized formal "experiment stations,"
Congress passed a series of bills setting up the mechanism for
government support of scientific research. The original Morrill Act
(1862), innovating methods of distributing state resources of the
public domain (Axt, 1952: 42), the Hatch Act (1887), promoting
scientific investigation and experimentation (Kidd, 1959: 3), and the
Morrill Act of 1890, further strengthening government involvement in
intellectual activity by providing funds for instructional purposes

to higher education, each effectively shaped a policy of state involve-
ment in science that continued through werld war II.

Four effects of state policy toward higher education in the 19th
century became evident. First, there was a greater expansion of public
higher education than otherwise would have occurred. Second, there
was a more rapid acceptance of the natural sciences as a regular part
of the college curriculum (Axt, 1952: 62-63). A.third affect of
agricultural research was that “success," implying ability to control
a problem, led to regulation derived from that understanding. Finally,
the government was providing the justification, rationale and mechanisms
which still guide government patronage of science to the present day.
Financing of research focused on "practical" and "scientific" projects
with immediate benefits and this in turn led to bureaucratic expansion

through more staff and more appropriations for government agencies

73

involved, although as Dupree (1957: 160) points out, this did not
necessarily mean more resources for research.

A series of early-20th century legislative actions including the
Adams Act (1906), The Smith-Lever Act (1914), and the Smith-Hughes
Act (1917) began to form the structure of the state's penetration
into the knowledge industry, and reflected explicit policies of mass
education, state controlled education, and emphasis on practical
research and knowledge.

When Werld War II broke out, state and private research support
were closely intertwined. To assist the government in coordinating
and advising on research relating to national defense in government
laboratories, industry, and educational institutions, the privately-
controlled National Academy of Sciences was chartered by Congress in
1916.* The NAS offered its services to Wilson, who accepted, and
a National Research Council was formed, composed of Academy members
and other scientists. It was initially financed by private founda-
tions and reverted to this status after the war. NAS acquired
"official" status when the Council of National Defense, a federal
coordinating agency, requested its cooperation early in 1917. During
the war, Congress created the privately controlled National Research
Council, operated mainly on funds provided by Rockefeller and
Carnegie Foundations, and established a Committee on Research in

Education Institutions for the purpose of informing scientists in

 

*The NAS actually came into existence during the Civil War, but
lapsed until reorganized in 1916.

74

Universities about projects and problems in which the government

was interested. Wartime research was typically derived from private
foundations rather than from the Federal Government. If projects were
successful or of sufficient interest to the government, state support
in the form of commissions or plant facilities were then often
provided.

Evolving coeval with state support in the 20th century were
private foundations, a peculiarly U.S. institution. Although generous
private support to education existed in the U.S. since the 17th century,
it was not until the turn of the 20th century that private foundations
created solely for the purpose of Sphilanthropic" research support
began to function as systematic conduits for channeling resources
into education and research projects. The General Education Board
(1902), founded by J. D. Rockefeller, considered the first foundation,
was formed out of an interest in integrating a southern rural economy
into the northern industrial system (Brown, 1977). By promoting
education and health care, the productivity of the southern worker,
both white and black was increased (Brown, 1977), and subsequent
foundations (e.g., Russell Sage, 1907: Rockefeller Foundation, 1913;
Commonwealth Foundation, 1918; Kresge Foundation, 1924; The Duke
Endowment, 1924: The Guggenheim Foundation, 1925; and the Ford
Foundation, 1936) are all still functioning to promote the needs of
an industrial sector by promoting the needs of capital-intensive
society in concert with social development.

By 1915, the Carnegie and Ford Foundations had combined annual
revenues at least twice as great as appropriations of the Federal

Government, and was one-fifth of the total income of college funds

75

allocated for the same purposes (Horowitz, 1969b: 38). Foundations,
however, are becoming increasingly lg§§_important as patrons of
research, both in absolute dollars and relative to the state. Their
. assets have been declining over the past decade, and in fiscal years
1974-76, their assets declined by three billion (or 8.5 percent) (New
York Times, 6 November 1977: 55).

Although the growth of recent government involvement in patronage
of science is usually placed as an outgrowth of Werld war II, its
origins begin much earlier. The reform and so-called progressive
movements of the late 19th and early 20th centuries spurred the state--
especially at the Federal level--to provide an increasingly efficient
government through which public administration of reforms could be
enacted (Weinstein, ) thus laying the foundation and creating the
justification for a greatly expanded public bureaucracy involved in a
growing number of areas of private life. The enlightened conservatism
of Franklin Roosevelt's "New Deal" during the repression, which reached
fruition under Johnson's "Great Society," contributed to the centraliza-
tion and further bureaucratization of public involvement in private
activities. It also established stronger liaisons with the social
sciences in the unversities. Social science, especially sociology, has
been largely a social reform oriented occupation and sociologists have
provided a good deal of the bureaucratic social reform knowledge
necessary to make the Federal programs "work." The social reform goals
of the new public service bureaucratization served to strengthen the 4
industrial productivity apparatus, and especially during the 1950's

and 1960's, the government apparatus for coordination of research

activity became increasingly formalized and highly rational. The New

76

Deal, then, responding to the social and economic crises of the 1920's,
and 1930's, consolidated the mechanisms and provided the direction for
the rationalization of growing government involvement in a number of
areas, including patronage of research.

During Werld War II, Roosevelt created the National Defense Research
Committee (NDRC) headed by Vannevar Bush, and made it directly responsible
to the President. It was given wide and flexible powers for mobilizing
scientific resources for war (Rivlin, 1961: 32). In 1941, the NDRC and
a parallel Committee on Medical Research were brought together under the
new Office of Scientific Research and Development (OSRD), also headed by
Bush. In a decision that affected government involvement in the coming
three decades, the OSRD decided gg£_to set up its own laboratories, but
rather to work through contracts, using existing facilities wherever
possible. Research support, however, was confined primarily to military
projects, although some social research projects relating to military
problems were conducted. Following the conclusion of hostilities,
enrollment and student fees dropped at most colleges and universities
and the OSRD found it necessary to relieve the universities of the
sudden burden by subsidizing professors who were increasingly spending
less time on teaching and more on OSRD research (Rivlin, 1961: 33).

A series of legislative acts reaffirmed the Federal Government's
increasing acceptance of responsibility for research and education.
The Council of Economic Advisors (CEA), for example, was created by
the Employment Act of 1946 with the primary social goals of promoting
maximum employment, production and purchasing power.1 Also, in 1946,

the Truman-appointed President‘s Commission on Higher Education submitted

77

six volumes in 1947-48 recommending expansion of federal activities in
higher education.

OSRD disbanded when Werld War II ended, although some projects
were taken over by other agencies. Bush, reluctant to leave research
and development to the military, urged that a National Research Founda-
tion be created, and in 1947, the President's Research Board recommended
the establishment of a National Science Foundation (NSF). Although the
legislative history of the NSF began as early as 1945 when the first
of many proposed bills were introduced in the Senate, it was not until
1951 that NSF, with a modest initial budget of approximately $255,000
(but increased lS-fold the following fiscal year) and directed by ‘
former OSRD Officer Allan T. waterman, began systematically supporting
research activity. Throughout the 1950's, a number of non-profit
research corporations, many sponsored by defense agencies, were estab-
lished,2 and various committees designed to coordinate and advise
government agencies became necessary. J. R. Killian, Jr., became the
first science adviser to the President in 1957, and at the same time,
independent science Advisory Committee reporting directly to the
President was also established. By the end of the 1950's, the govern-
ment and science had joined in a firm and indispensable partnership
shaped by the past and preparing for the future.

The development of social science support evolved much more slowly.
The Hoover Institution on War, Revolution and Peace at Stanford
University began in 1919 to gather documents on Werld war I and 20th
century European political and economic movements, and by 1969 the

Institute's functions were, in the words of Herbert Hoover, to:

78

...demonstrate the evils of the doctrine of Karl Marx--

whether Communism, Socialism, Economic Materialism, or

Atheism-thus to protect the American way of life from

such ideologies, their conspiracies, and to reaffirm the

validity of the American system (quoted in Aptheker, 1972:

68).

Proud of its conservative perspective, the Hoover Institute is
currently enjoying a resurgence of resources and prestige (New York
Times Magazine, July, 1978).

'The Social Science Research Council (SSRC), founded in 1923
through the efforts of Charles E. Merriam, is usually accepted as the
first agency created specifically for support of social science
research, but it was not until after World_War II that support to the
social sciences was given with any degree of system or generosity.

The Institute for Social Research (ISR) was organized at the University
of Michigan in 1946 for several purposes, including conducting sample
surveys on problems of "major significance to society" and to help
integrate the social sciences by providing facilities for research on
multidisciplinary problems (ISR, 1971: 5), but the social sciences
were still viewed suspiciously by Congress. In 1946, the U.S. Senate
voted to exclude from the then-pending NSF-establishing Bill, the
specific provisions which would have created a Division of the Social
Sciences. But in 1954, recommendation for NSF approval was made by
the Senate and proceeded on an exploratory basis. In 1956 the Center
for Research in Social Systems (CRESS) was founded as a Special Opera-
tions Research Office (SORO) but reorganized in 1966 following disclo-
sures of its participation in Project Camelot into two divisions. The

first was a "cultural information" analysis center (CINFAC), known prior

to Operation Camelot as "Counter-Insurgency Information Center"-

79

ironically keeping the same acronym and functions. The other was
the Social Science Research Institute (SSRI).

' In the late 1960's, a number of special commissions3 were created
to advise the government on aspects of social science research,
particularly on how to increase the useful application of the social
sciences in the solution of contemporary social problems. Not surpris-
ingly, the committees consistently recommended that the social sciences
were vital to American interests and were critically important in
contributing to various social problems. The Behavioral and Social
Science Survey Committee (BSSSC) (1969: 1) and NSF (NSF, 1969: 58-62)
reflected the instrumental vision of the other commissions and agencies
when they reasoned that the social sciences can provide data linkages,
help resolve crises and problems, and add depth of understanding of
human social behavior and institutions, and apply this understanding in
better ways to design social policies to facilitate management of social
affairs.

In sum, after a slow beginning, social science research received a
quantum increase or state support in the 1960's, and became viewed as
an instrument to guide state policies directed towards social engineer-
ing. During this time, policing agencies as well as research which
focused on policing and social control also received considerably
increased support. It is against this background that the Law Enforce-
ment Assistance Administration (LEAA) and the National Institute of
Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice (NILECJ), it's research branch,

were established.

80

EVOLUTION OF CRIMINAL JUSTICE RESEARCH

 

Prior to the late 1960's, there was little concern for, let alone
systematic development of, research problems related to criminal justice.
The Internal Association of Police Chiefs (IACP), first convened to
combat post-Civil War "lawlessness" in the West and in large urban
and border areas, evolved various research committees in the early
20th Century, and the current IACP Research Committee functions to,
study, evaluate, and determine ways of improving law enforcement
techniques through research, as well as to act as a repository and
clearing house for relevant information (The Police Yearbook, 1969:
225). Once crime became defined as a major social problem in the
1950's and 1960's, other organizations, such as the National Institute
for Police and Community Relations, founded in the mid-1950's4 and
the Law Enforcement Science and Technology Center of Illinois Institute
of Technology, which contributed to Criminal Justice research by
providing forums for exchange of ideas and for suggesting directions
for further research (see, e.g., Yefsky, 1967) typified the various
research agencies which emerged to address the "crime problem."

In 1969, the Ford Foundation established Harvard Law School's
Center for Advancement of Criminal Justice, with emphasis on:

(1) research programs dealing with crime and administration of justice,
and (2) fellowships permitting "key" criminal justice practitioners

to engage in advanced study and training (e.g., McNamara, 1972). The
Police Foundation, created in 1970 with a $5 million grant from the
Ford Foundation, established a prestigious and politically powerful

research organization intended to provide a reformist direction in

81

policing practices. Although its original pool of approximately $30
million has been drastically depleted, the Foundation is currently
expanding its activities by seeking outside funding rather than by
sponsoring research from its own diminishing resources.

Federal agencies engaged in sponsorship of policing research
include, for example, the Center for Studies of Crime and Delinquency
of the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH). The Center has,
for the past decade, operated on a modest budget of about $4-5 million
a year. Although its work has occasionally overlapped the Institute's,
the focus of the Center does not focus on criminal justice research.
The Center

...is the focal point in NIMH for research, training, and

related activities in the areas of crime and delinquency,

individual violent behavior, and law and mental health

interactions (NIMH, Vol: 1-2).

The Center stresses

...the development of improved means for understanding and

coping with problems of mental health as these may be re-

flected in various types of deviant, maladaptive, aggressive,
and violent behaviors that frequently involve violations

of the criminal or juvenile law (Shah and Lalley, 1973: 1).

It also encourages utilitarian research, which includes basic
research if it has an evident goal to which new knowledge may be
applied. The Center's programs include research and training,
consultation, technical assistance and grant support toward the
development of innovative and effective programs for lawbviolating
behavior (see, e.g., NIMH, 1970).

A second agency which has been engaged in planning and operational

grants, particularly for planning for administration of other agencies,

82

is the Department of Housing and Urban Development (HUD), through its
model cities programs.

Third has been the Department of Labor's special project in
1968-1969 in which it was involved in the pilot program to improve
correctional institutions. Other federal agencies engaged in support
of criminal justice social research include the Federal Judicial Center,
with a budget of about $4 million devoted to research and development
for the goal of improving federal judicial administration, personnel
and practices, and the National Science Foundation (NSF).

The most active federal supporter of all forms of criminal justice
research has remained the Department of Justice. Social research
agencies within the Department of Justice include the Bureau of Prisons,
the Drug Enforcement Administration, the Federal Bureau of Investigation,
and the Immigration and Naturalization Service. These four agencies
combined, however, make up only about 20 percent of the Department's
total expenditures for social knowledge production and most of the
focus is on statistical accumulation and program.evaluation. With the
creation of the Law Enforcement Assistance Administration in 1968, and
its research unit, the NILECJ, the Department became a major funder
of criminal justice research. LEAA has received over $6 billion in
the first decade of its operations, and although the yearly appropria-
tions have decreased somewhat through both fiscal reductions and infla-
tion, the agency still retains a substantial budget. LEAA's research
commitment of $58 million in fiscal year 1976 made its budget the
fourth largest of any nonsocial service federal mission, behind only
the Department of Agriculture's extension service ($168 million), the

Bureau of Census ($66 million), and the Office of Education's Bureau

83

of School System's ($67 million). It was the 12th largest of any
federal agency engaged in social knowledge production. LEAA criminal
justice research includes develOpment of science and technology,
forensic medicine, police tactics, and demonstration projects for
controlling crime or improving criminal justice operations. The
production of social knowledge is carried out by its Institute (NILECJ),

which will be the focus of Chapter 4.
SECTION C: HISTORY OF LEAA AND NILECJ

The Law Enforcement Assistance Administration was an outgrowth of
the earlier Law Enforcement Act of 1965 (PL 89-197) which provided
the Attorney General or its delegate with $10 million, and authorization
to establish programs, research, or other activities which might lead
to the improvement of law enforcement and control of crime.* This
Act terminated in 1968, and was superceded by PL 90-351, President
Lyndon Johnson's Omnibus Crime Control and Safe Streets Act of 1968.
This Act created LEAA, which replaced the former Office of Law Encorce-
ment Assistance.

With an initial budget for fiscal year 1969 of $63 million,
LEAA was designed to provide federal assistance for fighting crime at
State and local levels. The LEAA provided aid to localities to
establish programs for recruiting and training police, modernizing
equipment, and reorganizing law enforcement agencies and for developing

.

and improving the operation of the criminal justice system. The LEAA

mission was to stop crime, or as the title of the act-oft-repeated

 

*A more detailed legislative history will be provided in Chapter
40

84

by President Johnsonr-promised, to make the streets safe for Americans.
The LEAA viewed research as essential to crime reduction, not only for
defining problems, but also for measuring success. The initial

budget allocated $10 million to establish the National Institute of
Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice (NILECJ). In 1974, Congress

gave LEAA responsibility for juvenile delinquency prevention and
control, consolidating programs previously located in the Department
of Health, Education and Welfare, and a second research arm of LEAA,
the National Institute of Juvenile Justice and Delinquency Prevention
(NIJJDP) was established. This research agency will not be included
in this project.

There was hesitation from Congressional Legislative participants
to create a mechanism that might be interpreted as the first step
toward the establishment of a national police force, so the 1968
Act explicitly provided the policy caveat that law enforcement was
local, 222 a national problem. Although the establishment of LEAA.
reflects somewhat a breaking away from the long tradition of federal
abstention from law enforcement, it did nonetheless retain an
explicit, intentional decentralized format. Two additional safeguards
reflected what White and Krislov (1977: 13) described as a "pluralistic
resolution of severe ideological differences“ in Congressional
shaping of the Authorization Act. These were (1) the establishment
of a Troika nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate,
and consisting of the LEAA administrator and two deputies, of whom

no more than two could be members of the same party, and (2) the

implementation of a block-grant method of funding which broke from the

85

system of direct categorical grants, and provided instead allocations
directly to state agencies. Block grants are allocated, according to
population, to 57 jurisdictions, including the 50 states and seven
territories and trusts. Allocations go directly to State Planning
Agencies which then channel the money in the form of subgrants for
state and local use (LEAA, 1979).

The 1968 Act provided federal support for three general goals:
(1) the encouragement of states and units of local government to
prepare and adopt comprehensive plans derived from local assessment
of problem areas; (2) the authorization of block grants to states and
local governments to improve and strengthen law enforcement, and (3)
the encouragement of research and development directed toward the
improvement of law enforcement and the development of new methods
for the prevention of crime and the detection and apprehension of
criminals. To meet these goals, the Act established: (1) planning
grants to every state to develop comprehensive crimdnal justice
improvement plans, in coordination with State Planning Agencies;
(2) block grants, which are substantial sums of money allocated to
each state on a formal basis by population, but since reformulated,
and current legislation pending may modify population and include
need (based on crime rates and needs of the criminal justice system of
an area to address needs); (3) State Planning Agencies (SPA's) in each
state and ten regional planning units to develop plans, coordinate and
distribute funds through subgrants to state and local agencies;
(4) Discretionary Grants, permitting the LEAA Director to award funds

directly as perceived needed to supplement or implement particular

86

projects; (5) the evaluation of studies of federally-funded programs,
and most importantly, for the social sciences, at least; and (6) the
establishment of a research and development program (NILECJ).

Although various persons or groups were involved in the estab-
lishment of the Institute, New York Congressional Representative
James H. Scheuer is usually cited as the motivating force:

The National Institute was primarily the 'creation' of DISPAC.

Chairman James H. Scheuer, who was assisted by Representative

Robert McClory in offering it as a Floor Amendment to the

Administration Bill on August 3, 1967. Although the concept

of the Institute derived from.some of the thinking of the land-

mark President's Commission on Law Enforcement and Criminal

Justice (Katzenbach Commission of 1965-67), it generated

limited discussion at the time (DISPAC,* 1977: 9).
The Institute was created for.the purpose of providing for and
encouraging:

...training, education, research and development, for the

purpose of improving law enforcement and developing new

methods for the prevention and reduction of crime, and

the detection and apprehension of criminals (PL 90-351:

Sec. 401).

The Institute's authorizing legislation provided the mandate for
(1) making grants for the support of research, demonstrations or
special projects in Criminal Justice related areas; (2) continuing
studies and undertaking programs of research to develop new or improved
approaches, techniques, systems, equipment and devices to improve and
strengthen law enforcement; (3) examining the causes (or, in the
terminology preferred later, the correlates) of crime; (4) recommending
activities by which agencies or individuals working in criminal justice-

related fields could improve or strengthen law enforcement; (5) carry-

ing out programs of instructional assistance consisting of research

 

*DISPAC is the House Subcommittee on Domestic and International
Scientific Planning, Analysis and Cooperation.

87

fellowships, and assistance to state and local law enforcement and
criminal justice training programs. The Institute currently is one
of several agencies within LEAA, and the Director of the Institute is
responsible to the LEAA administration. Current legislation before
Congress, however, provides for a restructuring of LEAA. If this
legislation passes, the Act would provide for-the establishment of a
Bureau of Criminal Justice Assistance responsible to the Attorney
General. The research functions of LEAA would be conducted by a
National Institute of Justice (NIJ); the National Criminal Justice
Information and Statistics Service. Statistics Development System
would be replaced by a Bureau of Justice Statistics (BJS) and LEAA
would become the third component in the triad, responsible for
Juvenile Justice, Block Grants, and Community Action Programs. The
purpose of this reorganization is to try to depoliticize research and
other assistance functions (see, e.g., House Subcommittee Session,
26, April, 1979). NIJ and BJS would be supervised by policy boards,
but LEAA would not, reporting more-or-less directly to Congress and to
an Oversight Committee.

This historical overview provides a brief background describing
the steady penetration of the state into the support of knowledge
production in general, and criminal justice research in particular.

It remains to examine the impact of this penetration upon research.

88
FOOTNOTES

1After the war, New Deal Congressional Representatives such as
Senator Harley Kilgore saw scientific research as a means of promoting
full employment, but were afraid the business interests would suppress
research developments of scientific developments which threatened their
markets (Gilpin and Wright, 1964: 3-4). As Cook (1964) argues, this
argument was not unjustified.

2Much of the sponsored social science research in the 1950's
was sponsored through defense agencies. The Human Resources Research
Office (HumRRO) operated under contract with the Army, and was
established in 1951 to develop methods of improving training of the
U.S. soldier, and for behavioral science research on motivation,
leadership and "man/weapon" systems. Other agencies include the
Institute of Defense Analyses (1956), used by the joint Chiefs of
Staff; Analytic Services, Inc., and the Mitre Corporation, both
created by the Air Force (1958); System Development Corporation, a
spin-off from RAND (1956) and by far the most influential and powerful
patron of social research until the NSF expanded in the 1960's, the
RAND Corporation. Rand originally started in 1946 as an Army Air
Corps project at Douglas Aircraft, and two years later was organized
as a nonprofit organization set up by Henry Ford 11 and his $100,000
interest-free loan and an additional bank credit guarantee of $300,000.

3The more prominent include the Advisory Committee on Government
Programs in the Behavioral Sciences created by the National Academy
of Sciences (1965); The National Science Board's Special Commission
of the Social Sciences (1968); and the Behavioral and Social Sciences
Survey Committee (BSSSC) established jointly by several standing
organizations, including NAS and SSRC (1966). The purpose of each '
of these committees was to provide recommendations and guidelines by
which: (a) the social sciences might be made more "marketable" to
the Federal Government and (b) the Federal Government might derive
maximum benefit from the "products" of social research.

89

Chapter 4: The Organizational Connection

 

Section 1: Formal Organization Structure

(NILECJ)

INTRODUCTION

 

One way to examine the relationship between sponsored research
and knowledge production in the social sciences is to focus on the
funding agencies themselves. Although the content analysis in the
next chapter can provide insights into the products of funded and
nonfunded research, it reveals little of the processes involved in
the allocation of resources for research, or of the organizational,
interactional, political and ideological dynamics which may affect
the selection by which some studies receive funding while others
do not. An organizational analysis may facilitate an assessment
of whether, and if so, how, sponsorship may be one source of
certain research biases. An organizational analysis may be useful
in several ways. .EiEEE: if politicization does occur at the funding
level, one question becomes Egg does it occur? Politicization
refers to explicit values, assumptions, biases or ideologies which
intrude into the research process and function to distort the formu-
lation of research questions, the source of data, or the processing
or interpretive procedures. These values and assumptions correspond
to and serve explicit interests (of agencies, classes or social

groups).* By examining an agency's priority-setting, topic-targeting

 

*For example, some research on political surveilance that focused
on development of more-effective methods of stifling activities of
lawful welfare rights organizations could be called "politicized"
because the implicit assumption that such activity must be suppressed
is embedded in formulation of the research problem, in the research
outcomes, and in the intended application of knowledge.

90

processes, and research proposals submitted for consideration, it may
be possible to determine whether certain topics, paradigms or research-
ers are systematically excluded and others favored. Second, as a
variety of observers (e.g., Miller R., 1968; I. L. Horowitz, 1974;
Deutscher, l976b; Baritz, 1970; Useem, 1976; weiss, 1978) have
suggested, evidence indicates that researchers may tend to view the
world through agency eyes. If researchers do modify research to

meet perceived agency needs or preferences, there should be discern-
ible mechanisms which encourage or at least facilitate such behaviors.
If researchers adopt agency needs such that research in the social
sciences is becoming transformed, then it might be useful to examine
what it is that researchers are allegedly adopting, and if such
congruence between agency and research goals is being elicited
through funding, how, by whom, and for what purpose. An examination
of a funding agency may also indicate whether such agencies attempt,
or even desire, to shape research topics and procedures to a
particular mold which conforms to agency mission. Third, if funding
agencies either themselves politicize studies or indirectly encourage
particular political biases, then analysis of policy setting and
implementation should allow insights into the location and extent

of penetration of agency preferences. Fourth, an organizational
analysis should reveal, at least partially, the sources of influence,
constraints and power arrangements to which agencies are themselves
subject, and which may serve to shape agency decisions and policies.
Fifth, an organizational analysis will clarify the debates reflected

in Chapter 2 over whether funding agencies are a) monolithic,

91

b) pernicious, c) enlightened, or d) innately political (e.g., conser-
vative or liberal), all of which are reflected as analytic models
throughout academia. Sixth, an organizational analysis should help
address the possibility that funding has influenced and shaped funded
and nonfunded research so completely that there is no significant
difference between the two, thus invalidating a comparison of the two
as categories in a content analysis. If such complete penetration

is the case, then funding processes should reflect explicit and
consistent ideological and methodological preferences consistent with
the distribution of features of research as derived from the content
analysis. Seventh, an organizational analysis will also reveal the
processes by which a legislatively defined mandate becomes translated
into action by the corresponding state agency, or more explicitly,

the manner in which abstract structural guidelines and constraints of
state power (in the form of legislative directives and general policy
statements) are interpreted and integrated into formal and informal
organizational behaviors by state apparatus. Finally, the distinction

between (state power and state apparatus is useful because it allows

 

identification of differences between formal power arrangements
intended by the state and the actual expression of those arrangements
after being mediated by various factors. By viewing NILECJ as an
organizational process which is interdependent with, but not the

same as, the executive and legislative power which has created and
sustained it, it becomes possible to examine how NILECJ activity may
circumvent state rules or tacit understandings implied by the power
arrangements, or conversely, how power arrangements may create under-

standings in the absence of formal rules.

92

Organizational activity is a reflection of human activity, and
organizational processes require a complex of behaviors and procedures
by individuals who construct, interpret, and carry out the rules
affecting the operation of their organization. To avoid an over-
emphasis on the structural aspect of patronage organizations, it
becomes necessary to also examine how the individuals assigned to
carry out the tasks of allocating resources for research accomplish
their tasks. If there does exist a discrepancy between the goals
and policies of the patronage organization, and the actual implementa-
tion and outcomes of these goals and policies, then the focus of
influence could shift from the state aga_state to the role-incumbents
of organizational positions.1 By identifying mediating factors that
may exist at the structural, and especially at the interactional level,
the locus of analysis shifts from invariant structures of an organiza-
tion to one which restores a phenomenal element to the analysis of
knowledge production by viewing organizational activity as part of
human activity.

There are several general organizational models, each providing
a particular imagery and problematic of organizations, to choose from
in examining funding organizations. This analysis will be informed
by the assumptions of negotiated order theorists (e.g., Manning, 1978,
_forthcoming; Goffman 1971, 1972, 1974; Day and Day, 1978; Silverman,
1972; Strauss, 1978), and of dialectical organizational theorists
(e.g., Heydebrand, 1977; Goldman and Van Houten, 1977; Brown, 1978).
The former position is derived from the assumption that social order
is constructed out of the everyday processes of individual and group

interaction, the latter from the assumptions that social order is a

93

feature of reproductive transformative human activity, and that such
activity must be examined as a process containing contradictions and
inconsistencies. The intent here is not to develop or define a
theoretical perspective, nor to critique models of organizational
analysis. The intent is rather to examine selected features of formal
organizational structure and of individual discretionary behavior.

A dialectically-grounded negotiated order model is appropriate
for several reasons. .Figgg, a negotiated order model will allow for
an examination of the structural features of an organization in the
context of how personnel respond to changing mandates, how changing
mandates occur, and the nature of organizational constraints, goals
and strategies. A negotiated order approach will facilitate the
examination of how individuals, though bound by the structure of the
organization, are able to take a self-conscious role in the transfor-
mative process of everyday interaction, agreements, temporary refusals
and changing definitions of situations (e.g., Day and Day, 1977).
Second, a dialectical approach will help identify how individual
behaviors mediate, and are mediated by, conflicting forms of ration-
ality, personal politics, ideology, or other features naturally
occurring in organizational activity. Organizations, from.this dual
perspective, are viewed as possessing relatively explicit rules and
existing within identifiable larger social structures. But unlike
traditional system's theories, for example, which view organizational
structure as immutable, and behaviors of organizational participants
as being bound primarily by organizational rules reflecting formal
rationality, the perspective which informs this study views organiza-

tions as changing, fluid, contradictory and partial, rather than

94

absolute (e.g., Manning, forthcoming). Organizations here are viewed
highly fragile social constructions, historically bound, and subject
to numerous temporal, spatial and situated events (e.g., Day and Day,
1977). More specifically, organizations are viewed as structured
processes, as outcomes2 of practical human activity. As processes,
organizational structure as well as individual discretionary behaviors
are viewed as being mediated at several levels, including interactional,
organizational and, in the case of federal agencies, legislative and
political, and by a variety of complex, but interrelated factors

(such as public opinion, forms of social protest, types of social
protest, types of occurring or recurrent social conflicts and crises,
and historical options for action).

Previous attempts to examine the relationship of federal
connection to social research were discussed in Chapter 2. There
have, in addition, been various organizational studies of federal
agencies or programs (e.g., Oceanography; Wenk, 1972; Forest Rangers:
Kaufman, 1978). Of those relating to crimdnal justice, one of the
first and most influential was Blau's (1955) examination of the FBI,
featuring an analysis of reciprocal consultative networks and social
exchange. Other research focusing on federal agencies and criminal
justice have included histories of various components such as the
Office of Law Enforcement Coordination in the U.S. Treasury Department
(e.g., Phillips, 1963), or of judicial systems (e.g., Collins, 1978;
Heydebrand, 1977; Balbus, 1973), and more recently, Attewell and
Gerstein (1979) have examined the impact of federal drug control and

treatment programs on local jurisdictions. Others have focused on

95

the government's efforts to fight the "war on crime" (e. g., Harris,
1969, 1970; Clark, 1970), or histories of the Law Enforcement Assist-
ance Administration (e.g., Rogovin, 1973; Peskoe, 1973; National
Auivisory Commissions, 1973, 1976; National Research Council, 1978;
\hsl. II), on the relationship of LEAA to specific locations (e.g.,
Thircell, 1973; Reid, 1973; Gude and Mannina, 1973: Gregware, 1973).
Still others have confined themselves to LEAA's research arm, NILECJ.
lipase have included the highly-critical National Academy of Science
report (White and Krislov, 1977), general histories (e. g., Chelimsky,
1975), comentaries by former directors (e.g., Velde, 1975; Ewing,
1978, 1979), or theoretical interpretations (e.g., McLauchlan, 1975).
None of these are particularly helpful in understanding the federal
ccnanection for criminal justice research. This inadequacy usually
occurs because federal impact is not the intent of the authors. For
scnne (e.g., McLauchlan, 1975; White and Krislov, 1977) it occurs, as
shall be described‘in the appropriate sections below, because of
over-simplification or conceptual rhetoric.

My own project is not intended to duplicate histories or analysis
already compiled, although there is a good deal that is pulled
together, especially in Chapter 3 and 4, that is not available
elsewhere, particularly on institute history and current procedures.
Nor is the intent here to critique existing studies of the Institute,
although that may occur on occasion. The intent is rather to present
the:results of a preliminary organizational analysis in such a way
‘that it may provide understandings into the connection between state
power, as embodied in the legislative and executive branches of

government, and state apparatus, as reflected in the procedures and

96

processes which are intended to implement that power, particularly as
embodied by the Institute.

NILECJ is appropriate as an analytic focal poinf for several
reasons. Egggp, as an extension of LEAA, the Institute has high
visibility, and is the primary agency, either federal or private,
in the funding of criminal justice knowledge production. Second,
it is a controversial agency,3 and the issues surrounding this
controversy are useful for illustrating the topics of a) federal
funding, b) federal politicization and c) social control. Thipg,
the Institute has undergone a series of transformations in the past
decade, making the dynamic aspects of it more prominent.

The purpose of examining NILECJ is to illustrate the processes
by which policy decisions are both formally prescribed, negotiated
and implemented by identifying ways formal policies are set and
carried out, as well as the ways in which organizational participants
perceive, define, articulate and actuate organizational goals. The
methodological tasks are to a) acquire information on the means by
which goals are pursued, b) outline the organizational structure,

c) delineate the organizational dynamics, and d) examine the
identifiable organizational constraints and influences on policy,

such as legislative and fiscal limitations, supervision patterns,
available personnel and skills, and especially the sources of
mediations operating between agency procedures and the environment

on one hand, and between agency and its related components (internally)

on the other.

97

Two issues seem particularly appropriate, because of their

utility, for organizing discussion of the funding agency-research
connection: 1) the formal structural make-up and procedures of a
federal funding agency, and 2) the processes of decisionemaking
and policy setting in actual practice. An organizational analysis
of NILECJ, will provide insights into the degree of fit between the
structural interface and actions of organizational participants,
and the degree to which actions coincide with mandate of the agency
in selection of research projects and in allocation of funds. This
examination will focus on, but not be restricted to the so-called
"Blair Ewing Period," named after the acting NILECJ director between
October 1976, and March 1979. To understand the Ewing period,
however, it is necessary to examine the structure of the Institute
and its relationship to LEAA, the research community, internal
offices and'divisions, and those factors representing state power,
particularly the congressional and executive branches of federal

government.
METHODOLOGY

The organizational analysis is not intended to be an intensive
examination of the Institute. Its purpose is to identify possible
sources of politicization of research by focusing on selected
organizational operations, and to suggest direction for further
research. As a consequence, "Occam's Razor" has been applied to
pare away most discussion of organizational factors not bearing

directly on this project. There is a necessarily-heavy reliance on

98

informants, although informant responses were cross-checked both with
other informants and with historical, organizational, and federal
documents as a validation procedure. It should be stressed, however,
that the intent of this chapter is not so much to piece together
a definitive picture of Institute operations as viewed by informants
as it is to offer tentative insights into how Institute operations
provide the potential for politicization of the knowledge production
process. For example, the research was not designed to allow for
in—depth examination of the peer-review process. It becomes possible,
however, to identify general features of peer-review in practice, and
to compare these features against the ideal, and examine whether the
practice of peer review reflects a loosely-coupled Institute-Academic
community connection which allows for penetration of particular biases.

The intention was not to describe the organizational operation
in exhaustive detail, but to illustrate with appropriate data how the
Institute operates, and further, to show how such operations could
significantly shape knowledge production. Opinions were not taken as
"fact," nor were informant impressions used as the basis for assuming
a particular "objective reality." They were used as sensitizing
devices to indicate general procedures and features of one particular
aspect of federal funding, and to indicate directions for additional
research.

The data was collected through documentary analysis, impression—

istic observation, telephone and personal interviews* with informants

 

*The difference between an interview and a "conversation" was
largely one of scheduling. If data-gathering interaction was scheduled
prior to its occurrence, it was called an interview; if it resulted
from serendipitous interaction and the same open-ended questions were
asked, it was a conversation that became transformed into an interview.

99

within LEAA/NILECJ, with researchers and others connected at some level
with Institute operations, with congressional and legislative personnel,
NILECJ Advisory Board members, and critics and supporters of NILECJ,
including members of the NAS (White and Krislov, 1977) study group.

Four three-day trips to Washington D.C. between March and June 1979,
allowed monitoring of congressional hearings, NILECJ advisory board
proceedings, and interviewing with and observation of Institute
personnel and activities. Informants within NILECJ included division
heads or, if unavailable, representatives, as well as program officers,
were contacted, and between 300-400 pages of tightly-spaced, typed,
pages of conversation were transcribed from tapes and notes. Interviews
ranged in duration from 15 minutes to three hours, and were taped
whenever possible, and when not, field notes were taken and later

coded. A variety of documents, including legislative, LEAA/NILECJ
policy, and Institute proposals, transcripts, minutes, solicitations,
were collected and examined. Several thousand pages of documents

were collected or examined.

A concept index was constructed to classify and code interview
data. An independent coder was employed as a means of checking
reliability and consistency of the index and my own coding procedures,
and there were no substantial differences in classification. With
this methodology, a systematic analysis of the Institute was initiated,

beginning with the Crime Control Acts that provide the NILECJ mandate.

lOO

CRIME CONTROL ACTS: 1968-1979

The Institute has always been under the authority of the parent
agency, LEAA, and as a consequence, is shaped by the same legislation
and congressional intent as the larger organization. The LEAA program
was designed to serve as a precursor to revenue sharing by transferring
federal dollars to states through block grants with as few strings
attached as possible (Rector and W61f1e, 1973: 55). Although the
Institute did not participate in allocation of block grant programs,
it nonetheless shared the overall design intended for LEAA of providing
funds for state-oriented projects.* Further, the structure, scope and
mandate of NILECJ has been modified by the series of LEAA reauthoriza-
tion acts in 1970, 1973, 1976 and currently (June 1979) before Congress.
The original Omnibus Crime Control Act of 1968 (PL 90-351) required
that the LEAA administration be composed of an administrator and two
associate administrators, appointed by the President, confirmed by
the Senate, at least one of whom.was required to be a member of the
opposition party. This tribunal structure was called troika. The
Omnibus Crime Control Act of 1970 (PL 91-644) continued the troika,
but strengthened the position of the Administrator by clarifying
administrative duties and powers, and also specified that administrative
decisions were to be made with the concurrence of one or both of the

Associate Administrators rather than by unanimous consent, as before.

 

*See, for example, Police Chief (unauthored, 1966: 20) for a list
of LEAA projects approved under the 1965 law. Thirty three projects
were shared by nine major research institutions, mostly corporations,
performing practitioner-suggested research. This was the format
anticipated for the Institute by the drafters of the 1968 Act.

101

This was a minor, but important (as will be shown in Section II) amendment
to the 1968 Act which clarified the relationship of Administrator to
Associates, thus removing some leadership ambiguity. The 1973 Crime
Control Act (PL 93-83) removed the requirement that insured at least

one membership post for the apposition party in the LEAA troika, which
some high-level LEAA/NILECJ personnel felt significantly lessened one
source of politicization within the Institute by eliminating a structural
"loyal opposition" which tended to be devisive. The 1973 Act also
reworded the Institute's purpose. Instead of being the "purpose of

the Institute to encourage research and development to improve and
strengthen law enforcement" (PL 30-351), it now became the purpose to:

. . .encourage research and development to improve and strengthen

law enforcement and criminal justice, to disseminate the results

of such efforts to state and local governments, and to assist in

the development and support of programs for the training of law

enforcement and criminal justice personnel (PL 93-83, Part D:

Sec. 402a).

Also in 1973, the Institute added a program evaluation component,
provided for the establishment of training programs for criminal justice
professionals and established a clearing house for exchange of informa-
tion about law enforcement and criminal justice, and made a nationwide
survey of estimated personnel needs in law enforcement and criminal
justice, and determined the adequacy of federal, state and local
programs to meet these needs (e.g., NILECJ, 1979: 3-4; PL 93-83, Part
D: Sec 402). In 1974, an Advisory Board comprised of practitioners
and academics in criminal justice-related fields was established.

The purpose of the Board is to assist the administration in setting

goals, develop research agendas, and select research priorities and

102

strategies. The advisory group is pp£_a policy-making board, however,
and acts only on those matters brought before it by the NILECJ director.

The 1976 Crime Control Act (PL 94-503) altered the status of
NILECJ by modifying the appointment procedure of the.NILECJ adminis-
trator. The 1968 Act had provided that the Institute be under the
general authority of the LEAA administration, but the status of the
NILECJ directorship was ambiguous. The 1973 legislation has codified
appointment procedures, making the director an LEAA administrator
appointee. The 1976 amendments made the Institute directorship an
Attorney General appointment rather than LEAA appointment, apparently
emphasizing the importance and autonomy of the post, although nothing
was done to remove or attenuate LEAA supervisory authority. The
1976 amendments also stressed growing congressional interest in
program evaluations (e.g., DISPAC, 1977: 9), directing the Institute
to 1) develop criteria and procedures for such work and communicate
them to the State Planning Agencies of LEAA, and 2) identify, catalogue
and disseminate information on demonstrably successful projects. The
1976 Act also provided for further expansion of the Institute mandate.
In addition to reaffirming its commitment to the 1973 goals, the
Institute also undertook collaborative research with the National
Institute on Drug Abuse to examine the relationship between drug
abuse and crime and to evaluate the success of various types of drug
treatment programs in reducing crime (LEAA, 1979: 4).

How the 1979 legislation will transform LEAA.and the Institute
remains in question, but should either the S-241 bill or the John

Conyers House Bill, HR 2108, pass, the Institute will become

103

independent of LEAA, although it will remain within the Department of
Justice directly under the Attorney General.

In sum, when the Institute was established as part of LEAA by
the original authorizing legislation, research was not considered
an integral part of the war on crime, at least when viewed in relation
to the resources and interest placed on more dramatic aspects of crime
control funded by LEAA (e.g., high technology, computer systems,
intensive training of police personnel, futuristic weapons and
equipment). Nonetheless, the Institute reflected the general LEAA

' a charge that was

legislative charge to "reduce the crime rate,‘
accepted and intensified until 1973. Despite the authorizing legisla-
tion, however, the Institute, especially after, but certainly not
limited to, the restructuring of the appointment procedures of the
director, was a "specific charge only in the most general sense" in
that the actual implementation of the legislative mandate was largely

a reflection of the style of the director, and often of his relation-

ship to the LEAA administrator.
NILECJ DIRECTORS

The Institute is headed by a director and two associate directors,
all political appointees, who have charge of implementing the legisla-
tive mandate. Yet they retain, as will be illustrated in Section II C,
considerable discretion. The evolution of the directorship is
important to the understanding of the operation of the Institute
because of the relationship of the position both to congressional
and executive political pressures, and to the creation and implementa-

tion of NILECJ policy.

104

Although PL 99-351 was formally enacted and became law on 19 June,
1968, then-President Johnson, who had that spring withdrawn from.the
Presidential race, waited until just prior to the 1968 elections to
nominate Patrick V. Murphy for Administrator and Wesley Pomeroy and
Ralph Siu for associate administrators. These nominations were not
acted upon by the Senate, and were withdrawn by President Nixon when
he assumed the Presidency in January 1969. During their brief tenure,
Siu, although associate member of the troika, managed the Institute,
but when Charles Rogovin and his associate Richard Velde (who himself
became NILECJ Director in 1976) took over in early 1969, they decided,
following heated disagreement and the final arbitration of Attorney
General John Mitchell, to nominate Henry 8. Ruth, Jr., as NILECJ
director.4 Ruth was subsequently confirmed, but soon voluntarily left
the Institute and was replaced in 1970 by his deputy, Irving Slott,
who served in an acting capacity until early 1971. When Nixon appointed
Jerris Leonard as LEAA administrator in spring 1971, Leonard appointed
Martin Danziger to head NILECJ. Danziger was succeeded by Gerald
Caplan in fall 1973, when Donald Santorelli replaced Leonard. Caplan
remained in his position when Velde succeeded Santorelli in 1976, but
turnovers again occurred when the Carter Administration took office

(see Section II).

106

The White and Krislov report (1977) has identified three, and when
Blair Ewing is included, four, distinct periods in the Institute's
development, each corresponding to the personal style of the individual

director. In the first phase, particularly under Ruth, NILECJ,

 

influenced by the politics and mood of the period, stressed applied
research in keeping with both LEAA and NILECJ mandate to immediately
reduce crime and bolster the criminal justice system through research.
The period is characterized by ineffectiveness, political in-fighting,
and confusion of purpose (see Section III). This was the result
largely of LEAA political and personal bickering, both internally

and with Congress, of inconsistent and temporary leadership at both
Administrator and Director levels, and of structural problems, which
thwarted policy-making and implementation, thwarted hiring, and
according to both researchers and Agency informants, seriously reduced
the credibility and legitimacy of the Institute as a viable organiza-
tion among academics, and destroyed its credibility in Congress.

The second phase, from roughly 1971-1973, remained characterized

 

by an emphasis on applied research intended to decrease crime rates.
During this second phase, allocation strategy changed from one of
supporting a variety of projects to instead focusing on a few large-
scale projects on the theory that this would maximize the benefits of
the investment. Also during this period, attempts at evaluation of
Institute program effectiveness were begun. The Institute continued
its "war on crime," in accordance with its original mandate to improve
law enforcement and develop new methods for reducing crime, and
detecting and apprehending criminals (see, e.g., PL 90-351, Title I,

Part D: Sec. 401). NILECJ continued to be widely criticized for its

107

lack of success in reducing crime, for its inefficiency, and for its
apparent inability to account for either its program, or to justify
its expenses against the effectiveness of its programs. Specific
criticisms, summarized by DISPAC (1977: 19-23), included: 1) no long—
range research agendas, 2) directors politicized and lacking independ-
ence from.the parent organization, 3) inadequate project review,

4) an image that the Institute lacked intellectual integrity,

5) no demonstrated research or program.successes, and 6) poor research
quality. Critiques and critics of the Institute have been numerous
and voluable. Among the more prominent include the NAS report

(White and Krislov, 1977), which was critical of virtually every facet.
of NILECJ; the 20th Century Fund (1976), critical of the entire LEAA
program, which judged that LEAA might better serve as an independent
research institute; and the National Advisory Committee on Criminal
Justice Standards and Goals (1977), which criticized the Institute's
"naivete" in expecting quick results from research, and compared

the Institute unfavorably with the NIMH Center.

White and Krislov (1977) identify the third period, 1973-77 as

 

Caplan period, which began when Donald Santorelli became LEAA
Administrator. The most significant change during this period was

a switch from focusing on the short-range goal of simply reducing
crime rates, as measured by official statistics (which were becoming
recognized as a problematic measure), to longer-range goals (which
also focused on reducing crime rates, despite their problematic
nature). NILECJ strategies included awarding a smaller number of

research grants, especially for basic research, and an emphasis on

108

establishing stronger connections with the academic community. Velde
(1975) has written that the implicit goal of LEAA during his tenure
was to "control crime," and emphasized the commitment of LEAA to
police equipment, physical fitness and training programs. Missing
from Velde's commentary is any sense that there exists non-technical
means to control crime (even should one accept control as the primary
goal), or that there are other components of the criminal justice
system than law enforcement officers.

In the fourth phase, Blair Ewing became the acting director
in May, 1977, and immediately implemented a number of substantive
changes. Guided by the NAS report, changes in public, private and
research attitudes, conceptual and empirical development of criminal
justice research in the decades between 1968-1977, and the recogni-
tion of the importance of research by both the Carter Administration
and LEAA personnel (see, e.g., Ewing, 1978: 266-68), Ewing's attempts
to substantially change the Institute were facilitated considerably.
When Ewing left the Institute and LEAA in April, 1979 (Ewing had come
into the Institute when James Gregg was appointed acting LEAA Adminis-
trator, and Ewing accompanied Gregg as his assistant when the latter
left LEAA to head another federal agency), it was acknowledged, even
by his detractors, that Ewing had "turned things around." The impact
of his style on the Institute will be developed more fully in a later
section, but it should be mentioned here that his impact was most pro-
found in two areas. First was in the development of existing staff
into a team responsible for shaping program and direction by exercising
more self-initiative which improved both morale and output,5 and second

was his stress on innovative basic research. Although Ewing publicly

109

stated that he tried to obtain a balance between basic and applied, it
was felt that be emphasized basic research more than his predecessors.

A fifth stage, currently beginning, already appears to differ from
the others in both form and content. Although definite judgments would
be premature, the initial feeling is that the current Institute and
LEAA Administration may be swinging back to a greater emphasis on
applied research and attempting to remove initiative from staff in
shaping programs. There is also a "wait and see" attitude regarding
the proposed legislation that could radically alter the operation of
the Institute.

To understand the structure of LEAA and NILECJ, it is useful to
understand the general transitions and subsequent political and
operational issues and problems that accompanied them, for these
issues are, as shall be argued in Section 11, one mediating factor

which emerges as a source of politicization at the directorship level.
INSTITUTE STRUCTURE

The organizational structure of the Institute has changed con-
siderably during the past decade. Even now, current House and Senate
bills would radically restructure the Institute, removing it from
under LEAA, and make it an independent research organization within
a proposed Bureau of Justice, remaining within the Department of
Justice. This is why it especially makes sense to view NILECJ
structure as a complex of recurrent processes rather than as a
monolithic agency with more-or-less invariant formal structural

features and consistent goals. These processes, moreover, are shaped

110

by organizational features such as size, division of labor, and
structural hierarchy.

The number of personnel vary, but informants agree there are
currently (June, 1979) about 75 total full-time employees, including
between 55-60 nonclerical professional staff.* The Institute is
currently divided into four offices under the office of the Director.
The Director's office is responsible for establishing priorities and
is advised by an in-office Analysis Planning and Management unit.

The Office of Research Programs is the primary research arm of the
Institute, and employs almost half of the total personnel. It
sponsors both basic and applied research.** The goal of the Research
Programs Division is to both generate new knowledge in priority areas,
and to build on existing knowledge in the criminal justice area.

Its scope is broadly defined, in fact (perhaps purposely), vague.

It consists of six divisions (LEAA, 1979: 10-23; LEAA, 1976). Fipgp,

The Police Division, with the stated goal of advancing police science

 

and strengthening police effectiveness, has supported research
projects on patrol tactics, discipline (of police), corruption, and
exercise of discretiOn and performance measures. Second, the
Adjudication Division is oriented towards research on the judicial

(e.g., courts, prosecution, juries) components of the criminal justice

 

*Professional here refers to those persons responsible for
creating and implementing the research projects. Especially during
the Ewing phase, these persons tend to be Ph.Ds. from the social science
and criminal justice field with strong methodological training.

**This distinction, although made for administrative convenience,
is seldom made in practice. "Applied" research usually refers to
research intended to have immediate, demonstrable results.

111

system, and has included studies on plea-bargaining, court management

and sentencing. Third, the Corrections Division is mandated to increase

 

knowledge of effectiveness of incarceration, types of treatment,
sentencing procedures, and impact of imprisonment in general, in
reducing crime. It has supported research on reintegration of offenders
into the community and management improvement systems. Fourth, the
Community Crime Prevention Division conducts research into the
relationship between law enforcement systems and personnel and the
individuals and communities they serve. It focuses on the relation-
ship between the physical environment and crime, and is currently
sponsoring research into urban collective disorder, environmental

design, violent crime, white collar crime, and community cooperation

 

in preventing crime. Fifth, the Center for the Study of Crime
Correlates and Determinants of Criminal Behavior examines the factors
which appear to co-exist with criminal behaviors and in criminal

environments. Finally, the Associate Director for Science and

 

Technology is responsible for "hardware" research and coordination of
science and technology and demonstration programs.

The second office is that of Research and Evaluation Methods.

 

The task of this office is to "obtain practical information on the
costs, benefits, and limitations of selected criminal justice and
crime prevention programs now in use throughout the country" (LEAA,

1979: 16). Third, the Office of Program Evaluation is responsible

 

for supporting projects which evaluate the impact of applied research
on solving problems in criminal justice areas. Finally, the Office

of Development, Testing and Dissemination is involved in seeing that

112

knowledge produced is applied to specific criminal justice problems.
It is also responsible for disseminating research findings and for
maintaining a reference and dissemination service.

These four offices, plus the Office of the Director (and the

Advisory Board) comprise the basic structure of the Institute.

FORMAL OPERATIONAL PROCEDURES

 

Several interrelated tasks comprise the primary activities of
the Institute. First is the general articulation of goals and priority
areas for research. Second is identifying the types of projects sought
to meet these priorities. Third is determining funding allocations
for specific offices, divisions, and projects, and finally is the
actual selection process in which proposals are selected through
review and negotiation processes by staff and outside sources.

1. EstablishingiGoals. The goals of the Institute are formally
shaped from three directions. First is the executive and legislative
prescriptions outlining general mission areas in which the Institute
is required to operate, or in which it is suggested research support
be concentrated. Second, the director of the Institute has responsi-
bility, latitude, and authority for shaping policies. Third, the
office and division staff, as the initiators and implementors of the
everyday routine tasks, have considerable influence in the final
substance and selection of Institute research projects.

The single most important source of formal policy is Congress.
Through enactment of authorizing legislation and appropriations,
Congress is able to shape the general direction of much of the Insti-

tute's work. Fiscal authority of Congress provides an effective

113

instrument for influencing the Institute. There are three fiscal
processes affecting LEAA: 1) Budget, 2) Authorization, and 3) Appropria-

tion. The Congressional Budget Committees are not involved in issues

 

of policy, but rather set ceiling limits on policies and programs sub-
mitted by the executive branch for all federal programs. Budget
committees review the entire budget submitted by the President, then
come up with a counter-figure. The appropriations committees evaluate
the line-item expenditures for each agency. Technically, LEAA is a
mission within the Justice Department. This means that the Department
has but one grant program.in the administration of justice function

(a function is the consolidated picture of programmatic areas within

a federal department), and within the administration of justice's func-
tion, LEAA is a mission. .

Authorization proceedings are the most important, and determine
the substance of agency programs. They determine what a program looks
like, and what it is supposed to do. Both the House and Senate have
legislative jurisdiction over functions of a program, agency, or
area. In the Senate, Massachusetts Senator Edward Kennedy's Judiciary
Coumittee, and in the House, Michigan Representative John Conyers'
Subcommittee on Crime each have jurisdiction over LEAA and both have
introduced separate pieces of legislation to restructure both LEAA
and the Institute. The authorization committees develop some semblance
of a financial plan, the total authorized expenditures, and submit it
to their respective peers. This is a relatively new process (enacted
in 1974, functioning in 1975). The issues arising in current authori-

zation hearings, according to both Institute and congressional

114

informants, have become more-or-less polarized into: First, the policy
question of what LEAA/NILECJ is supposed to be doing, that is, whether
it is a crime-fighting agency which aides state and local criminal
justice systems, or whether it is supposed to furnish seed money for
demonstration projects and for basic and applied research. Second,
there has been a strong feeling that LEAA/NILECJ is simply not doing
its job. These two issues form the basis for most of the anti-LEAA
criticism,6 and may result from historical, rather than LEAA/NILECJ
policy deficiencies in that like the criminal justice system it
services, the LEAA mandate is both unclear in practice and difficult
to operationally define, in part because it is contingent upon the
dominant issues and problems facing other components of the criminal
justice system.

Budget hearings, then, set limits by mission, not by agency, at
least in the case of LEAA and the Justice Department. One of the most
serious threats to LEAA's budget in the 1979 hearings, however, was
motivated by larger fiscal concerns, and apparently unrelated to
substantive agency politics or operation:

We just went through mark-up, where the senators review and

decide what they are going to allow for each particular area,

and when LEAA came up for discussion the senators decided

that there's been a lot of bad press about the program, and

it's been very controversial, and because of the controversy

about the balanced budget this year, and the state's surpluses,
which existed last year in all the states, like the state
legislators passed amendments about the budget, and the Senate

Committee came to the conclusion that they'd have to cut some

kinds of state assistance. And it was either going to have to

be in the form of categorical grants, one of which is LEAA, or
in general revenue sharing and they decided to hold general
revenue sharing at its present level, and that it would cut

categorical grants, so they cut categorical grants 9. (Senate
Aide: S-8).

115

The setting of research goals also derives from a variety of
other sometimes incompatible and conflict-generating sources.7 Fipgp
is the executive office's priorities, which will be discussed further
in Section II. This source includes the various critical reports
and comments that emerge from.the.Attorney General's office, presiden-
tial policy statements, and behind-the-scenes in-fighting. Second,
the Institute personnel themselves, especially in the Ewing period,
have assumed much responsibility for constructing and implementing
specific projects. This provides the agency with considerable
individual latitude in defining and setting goals. Thipd, the Institute
implemented an advisory committee composed of practitioners and
researchers. The Advisory group is not a policy-setting board, and
acts only on issues presented to it by the NILECJ Director. Nonetheless,
informants consistently felt that the Board has considerable influence-
based primarily on the prestige of its members and the utility of
maintaining strong working relationships with individual board members-
and this influence both directly and indirectly shapes Institute policy.
Fourth, the Institute is currently evaluating the results of a l9-page
survey mailed to "approximately 1,000 persons representative of the
Institute's varied constituencies" (NILECJ Survey Cover Letter:
Undated/1978), requesting information for future solicitations, future
priorities, and possible directions for research. Fifph, state
planning agencies reporting to LEAA provide suggestions based on their
practical interests in criminal justice problems.

From these combined sources, ten Institute-acknowledged, arbitrary,

sometimes overlapping, and perhaps ambiguous, long-term priority areas

116

have emerged to guide research for the next few years (e.g., Ewing,
1978: 274; LEAA, 1978: vii; LEAA, 1979: 7):

1) Correlates and determinants of criminal behaviors

2) Violent crime and the violent offender

3) Community Crime Prevention

4) Career Criminals and habitual offenders

5) Utilization and deployment of police resources

6) Pretrial processes: Consistency and delay reduction

7) Sentencing

8) Rehabilitation (of offenders)

9) Deterrence

10) Performance standards and measures for criminal justice
Within the priorities, the Institute is committed to a
cumulative approach to research which involves identifying
knowledge gaps of importance, commissioning or encouraging
research in those areas, summarizing what is known, and
synthesizing research findings bath within and across

priority areas (Ewing, 1978: 274).

This, then, isla rough overview of the institutionalized
sources involved in setting goals within the Institute.

2. Articulation of Research Areas. This area involves the
actual selection of general topic areas for research. The Institute
staff carries the primary responsibility for developing ideas,
writing solicitations and performing the administrative tasks
necessary for transforming solicitations into actual research
projects. For example, violent crimes has been identified as a
priority area, and staff from various offices and divisions may
decide that collective social disorders would provide a useful
topic area for research under this priority. The ideas are
generated from the bottom up, rather than filter from the top down.

One project monitor summarized the procedure:

QM: The [solicitations] come from the project monitors. We
develop the solicitations. . .

JT: As suggested by the [director]?. . .

117

QM: No, no!! We [e.g., staff] develop them. They are not
suggested by the administration or above. We have to
put our plans to the administrator eventually. We
operate within general guidelines, but those particular
areas aren't that specific. We still have a lot of
leeway [in regard to specific priorities]. Like I said,
I can do an open solicitation and [staff] people can
propose whatever they want to. (QM: 1/1)*

There is, in fact, a certain pride among staff about their
self-perceived independence in drafting research ideas and subse-
quent solicitations, as one program officer** adamantly affirmed
when it was suggested that most ideas may come from the Institute
Director or from LEAA:

NO!!! [Research ideas do] not come from the administrator!!!

It [sic] comes from.our [staff] level!!! It's rational and

involves priorities that the entire Institute sets up for

itself. (III: 5/A)

Although the staff role in determining research will be
addressed in the next section, it is important to recognize at this
point that staff discretion constitutes a form of substantive
rationality in that discretionary behaviors are intended to meet
or address agency needs in lieu of formal policies or rules. That
is, there are no systematic rules, procedures or strategies
(i.e., formal rationality) to guide selection or immediate evaluation
of either general research areas or specific research projects.

Once an idea has been more-or-less identified (there is often

considerable flexibility even after an idea is articulated),

 

*All informants, both in LEAA/NILECJ and Congress, and private
practitioners were assured anonymity. Initials or numerals are
intended to correspond to sections and subsections of interview
notes or tape transcriptions, not to an informant's actual initials.

**The formal designation of staff is loose, and several terms
(e.g., project monitor, project/program officer) are used inter-
changeably.

118

proposals are written up by a project monitor or program officer and
circulated among Institute staff, including persons in other divisions
and officers. When it is felt that a feasible idea is adequately
defined, a solicitation for research proposals is written and
disseminated to the research community.

3. Distribution of funds. The LEAA budget, including line-
items (i.e., specific expenditures within the Agency, such as NILECJ
personnel salaries and total research allocation, although not
individual projects) is authorized and approved by Congress. The
money is then divided up within the Institute on the basis of
division or office need, as determined by either fiscal requirements
of long-term projects or anticipated needs of proposed projects.
Although the total funds available is limited, staff has discretion

over internal distribution, as shall be outlined in Section III.
AGENCY/RESEARCH- COMMUNITY CONNECTION

The next phase in the funding process is disseminating the
solicitations, processing the applications, and choosing the appro-
priate projects. This involves four steps: 1) the communication of
the solicitation to the research community; 2) the evaluation of
proposals; 3) peer review and 4) final selection of projects to be
funded.

The request for proposals, during the Ewing period, was organ-l
ized around three funding mechanisms (LEAA, 1979: 8-9): a) grants,
which are the monetary awards made to institutions for pursuit

of projects which contribute to the Institute's mission, b) contracts,

119

which are agreements by which the agency purchases clearly specified

services or products from outside sources, and c) cooperative

 

agreements, which are relatively new funding mechanisms designed
to provide greater flexibility in obtaining assistance for federal
agencies from external sources.

Once the appropriate funding mechanism has been decided for
a particular project and the solicitation is in final form, a
solicitation is widely disseminated through formal networks (e.g.,
The Federal Register, The Institute's Research Bulletin, and for

competitive contracts, the Commerce Business Daily) and informal

 

networks, including "old boy" networks, previous winners of, or
applications for, research and known "experts" in a particular field.

Each program solicitation spells out the specific application

and review procedures to be followed, and specifies the dead-

line. Generally, Institute solicitations call for submission

of concept papers or preliminary proposals (LEAA, 1978: 1).

Once the proposals are received,

. . .the Institute obtains written reviews from in-house

reviewers [for each proposal] and at least two-often

three-outside experts drawn from.the criminal justice and
academic communities, research organizations, and private
industry. Usually, reviews are obtained at the concept

paper stage and again at the proposal state (LEAA, 1978:2).

The external review process by experts in a particular field is
called peer review. Unlike the National Science Foundation or NIMH
Center, which rely on so-called "good will" of the academic community,
NILECJ has a technical assistance contract, competitively bid, with
Public Research Corporation/Public Management System (PRC/PMS) to
perform staff work by managing a list of consultants. PRC pays

reviewers according to a preestablished schedule computed for number

120

of pages, length of time, travel, and other expenses. PRC maintains
a list of eligible names ("eligibles") compiled from.their own
sources, recommendations of reviewers, and suggestions from NILECJ.
The consultations are available for use to review proposals for
grants and other services. When reviewers are needed, a project
monitor will request from PRC a list of eligibles and in return
receive a list reflecting a cross-section of the criminal justice
or other appropriate areas.

The introduction of the peer review process was intended to
implement a competitive process for allocating awards, which would
exclude pressures from outside interests as well as safeguard
against internal politics at Institute, Administration, and even
Congressional and Executive levels. The unsolicited research
program was established as a means of overcoming the influences of
a few persons or particular interests which might monopolize
programs or projects by tapping into an "old boy" system. The
unsolicited research program, according to one program officer, was

. . .intended to meet the needs that were axed or forgotten

when it became necessary as the result of the National Academy

of Sciences report [i.e., White and Krislov] as the result

of the bitching of the staff around here, that the solicita-

tions that went out were too subject to manipulation. There

was an old-boy system, and they /the solicitations] always

went to the same peOple, and they went to the friends of

friends of friends, or whatever. .and when the National Academy

of Science brought that out, it was a perfect time to make a

more competitive arrangement, a competitive arrangement in that

you publish a plan of action about what you're going to spend
your money on, then put out solicitations, and that doesn't

allow for innovative ideas to come in (CT: 74).

Although the unsolicited research program would not necessarily

deflect pressure group influence away from other areas of NILECJ

121

operations, it nonetheless was originally designed to circumvent not
only pressure grOUps, but perhaps over-powerful internal groups and
pressures as well. One ostensible affect of this process (especially
the peer review system) has been the prevention by agency from
utilizing a self-perpetuating system.of reviewers or researchers.
Peer review, in particular, assures (in principle) an "objective"
selection from.a wide range of academicians and practitioners and

is supposed to eliminate particularistic criteria and subjectivism
by assuring impartial choices of reviewers, but as shall be shown
in Section 111, there is some room for discretionary activity and
penetration of personal biases or judgment.

The final phase in the funding process is the selection of the
successful proposals through staff consultation and negotiation
after receipt of peer reviewer comments and hierarchical ordering
of proposals. Five formal criteria ostensibly guide the decision
process (LEAA, 1978: 2).

l) Compatibility with the Institute's legislative mandate

2) Relationship to the Institute's plan and priorities set

by the Attorney General and the LEAA administration

3) Originality, adequacy and economy of the research design

and methods
4) Experience and competence of the principal investigator
and staff

5) Probability of acquiring important new knowledge that
advances the understanding of or the ability to solve
critical problems relating to crime and the administra-
tion of justice.

As in other phases of NILECJ activity, there is considerable

flexibility at this stage, despite these apparently formal criteria.

Once a proposal is selected for funding, it is forwarded to the

122

Director, who then sends it to the LEAA administrator for final
sign-off.*

Within these more-or-less formal procedures, there remains
considerable latitude for staff discretion. This general outline
has provided a summary of the formal organizational procedures
specifying how the funding process works. The next step is to
examine how, in practice, these formal policies are carried out at

each stage of the funding process.
SECTION II: STRUCTURAL MEDIATIONS: SLIPPAGE

An understanding of the formal structure and procedures of
Institute operations is insufficient for understanding the operation
or rationale of many Institute actions or decisions because of the
operation of factors which mediate between formal structure (as
state ppggp) and actual Institute behaviors and activity (as state
apparatus). Mediations here refer to the interposing of features
of social interaction or social structure between formal Institute
procedures (e.g., legislative mandate or explicit rules corresponding
to formal rationalization of operating procedures) such that Institute
procedures or individual activities are modified or transformed in a
way that may contravene or circumvent formal rules, thus allowing

for outcomes not intended by formal procedures. The concept of

 

*Although the NILECJ Director will have sign-off authority
under the currently-proposed legislation, at present the LEAA
Administrator continues to have final sign-off responsibility.
To sigp-off simply means the signing of a project‘s papers in
order to authorize release of funds for the project.

123

mediations allows for the analysis of nonorganizational features which
may impinge, often subtly and indirectly, upon Institute operations
in a way not amenable to other models of organizational analysis.8

Two concepts, slippage and loose coupling, seem particularly fruitful

 

for examining the structural and interactional features which may
generate sources of mediating influences which affect Institute
activity. The intent in this section is not to identify all possible
mediations, nor to develop a theory of model of mediations in
organizational analysis. The purpose is rather to illustrate how
two observed components of NILECJ funding activity, one the structural
features of the Institute derived from the agency's location within
a larger organizational framework, and the second largely contingent,
situational, particularistic and derived from choice-responses to
structural features based on social interaction, comes between the
official stated goals defined by state power, and the actual operation
of state apparatus. The emerging picture is one of a social process
shaped by structural sources which simultaneously allow for, and are
amenable to, penetration of influence of sources which neither state
power nor state apparatus are able to exclude, nor which are intended
to be excluded. The effect of such influences is to weaken the
formal mechanisms of state control, and this in turn creates
slippage at the structural level and loose-coupling at the inter-
actional level.

Slippage is used here as a metaphor to imply space between

structural features of an organization and its environment where

124

explicit rules are made inapplicable by the penetration of intervening
factors.* Unlike loose-couplipg, which implies connections which
are flexible and not tightly maintained, slippage implies lack of
connections which create an imperfect fit between state power and
implementation of that power by state apparatus. The state loses
its grip, or slips, so to speak, resulting in loss of control over
activities by state power. The concept of slippage will facilitate
an illustration of factors which mediate state power in three ways:
1) through an identification of interest or pressure groups that
penetrate decision-making processes, 2) by identifying congressional
and executive branch actions that are not the result of formal
procedures and which serve to circumvent formal procedures, and

3) by examining the effects of the research community on decisions
and policy.

A. Interest ggopps. The Institute itself does not seem to be

 

directly pressured by organized interest groups, which operate
instead mostly at congressional level. Formal groups which pressure
the Institute indirectly at the congressional level include practi-
tioners such as the International Association of Police Chiefs (IACP),
National Rifleman's Association (NRA), American Bar Association (ABA),
the United States Conference of Mayors, the National League of Cities,
and other organizations which feel they have something to gain

(or lose) by appealing in various ways to Congress, especially during

authorization hearings, for consideration of their particular

 

*It is not always clear whether these factors actually create
slippage, or whether the slippage allows for such penetration. It
is probably some of both.

125

interests. This also includes individuals representing a particular
constituency (e.gx, mayors, police chiefs, lawyers). Requests may
include funding for specific projects, more representation on the

of the Institute or its Operations. For example, during House
Subcommittee on Crime Hearings on LEAA held in various cities in
February 1979, a steady parade of representatives from various
interest groups jockeyed for position in the power/resource lottery
and anticipated rewards forthcoming if the correct strategies were
presented.9 An illustrative example of the operation of lobbyists
is reflected in the confirmation hearings of Norval Morris, Dean of
the University of Chicago Law School, before the Senate Judiciary
Committee hearings (28-29 September 1978). Chairing the hearing
was Utah Senator Orrin Hatch, considered one of the three most
conservative members of the Senate* (see, e.g., Scott, 1979: 2).

On the second day of testimony, Hatch had focused on Morris' contro-
versial belief that handguns should be controlled. After "setting up"
Morris with pointed questions and damaging commentary, Hatch called
on representatives from the NRA who denounced Morris' views on gun

control as described in Morris' work The Honest Politician's Guide

 

to Crime Control (Morris and Hawes, 1969), and vehemently opposed

 

Morris' nomination. Hatch then called on Glen D. King, executive

 

*Hatch is also leader of the ultra-conservative Republican New
Right and member of the Congressional Advisory Board of New Voice,
a right wing religious lobby which believes that liberalism (such
as Morris') is unChristian (e.g., Detroit Free Press, 15 June 1979:
6A).

126

Director of IACP said that although he himself had misgivings, the
IACP nonethelesssupported Morris. King's hostility towards Morris'
position was clear throughout his testimony, and when asked about
Morris' work, King replied that he had not fully read the Morris
book because he "had no time to read such fiction." Morris, a
highly qualified criminal justice practitioner and member of the
NILECJ Advisory Board, was not confirmed. The primary reasons,
according to informants, was the hostility towards him by pressure
groups and conservative senators.

If conservative interests are protected by some groups, citizens
and community groups, though far less effective, are operating to
counter such interests. Such groups, however, were probably margin-
ally effective despite some successes.10

A second, less important influence from groups which may reflect
special interests or particular political biases, derives from the
criticisms of commissions, committees or other formal and quasi-
formal bodies attached to, or sponsored by the government (e.g.,
National Academy of Science Report (White and Krislov, 1977); National
Advisory Committee on Criminal Justice Standards and Goals, 1976;
National Advisory Commission on Criminal Justice Standards and Goals,
1973; Mitre Corporation Reports, 1976). The LEAA-Sponsored White and
Krislov study, for example, identified a variety of problems within
the Institute, and these criticisms were used as the basis for specific
changes made by Ewing and others during the Ewing phase.11

In sum, although the Institute is not, on the surface at least,

surrounded and overwhelmed by lobbyists or interest groups, there are

127

powerful lobbyists which represent particular interests who operate
at the congressional level who are able to inject their needs,
indirectly or directly, into agency activity by influencing Congress
to shape LEAA] NILECJ legislative mandate to meet these needs. This
also has an indirect effect on Institute personnel which affects
procedures, but this will be addressed in Section III.

B. Executive/Congressional mediations. The Institute has,
during its existence, been shaped and influenced not only by
congressional intent, as reflected in codified legislation, but also
through the intercession both directly and indirectly, of the
discretionary behaviors of individuals in executive and congressional
branches of government. Not only through the threat of fiscal
restriction and statuatory revision, but also through indirect and
not always subtle threats, criticisms, or overt actions, Institute
personnel may alter their activity. Institute and non-Institute
personnel claimed that this had not been a serious problem.since
the late Representative John Rooney had attempted to direct LEAA's
direction and mission, and the first impression most informants
tried to convey (although this was invariably later modified) was
that fiscal and legislative activity are the only "Eggl" source of
congressional influence, and that "people on the Hill" are not
concerned about the activities of the Institute so long as it does
not generate any controversy or embarrassing programs. This last
qualification itself suggests a form of influence with explicit
political implications, but that notwithstanding, there appear to

be other sources of exerted influence from executive and congressional

128

levels not so obvious to Institute personnel. The current authori-
zation proceedings are illustrative of how indirect influences might
shape Institute operations. John Conyers, long an outspoken critic
of LEAA, voiced general approval of LEAA and particularly the
Institute during committee mark up* sessions for LEAA reauthorization
(e.g., 26 April 1979). Conyers reminded participants during hearings
the previous February that NILECJ had undergone such a transformation
since its inception that he, for one, could now be counted among

its supporters. Conyers was careful to specify, however, that he
remains adamantly opposed to an agency that would function as a
revenue-sharing device merely to shore-up an existing justice
establishment. Conyers' remarks were taken by some Institute
personnel to indicate a mandate for continuing what they described

as innovative and unconventional research. On the other hand, the
failure of President Carter's nominee, Norval Morris, for LEAA
Administrator to be confirmed was felt by some to reflect a practical
concern caused by the opposition of interest groups, that should
LEAA become a forum for controversial ideas, or if agency resources

already threatened by reduction, were to be spent debating issues

 

rather than supporting research, it could destroy both LEAA and the
Institute. This, some Institute persons felt, was a subtle reminder
of the political limits on which occasionally impinged upon policy

decisions, and clearly marked the risks involved in overstepping

 

*A mark up session is the revising of a piece of legislation,
line-by-line, in committee prior to putting that legislation before
the House or Senate for final vote.

129

implicit rules which, to the politically astute bureaucrat, were as
clearly articulated (and subject to possible negative sanctions) as
official policy. One Institute “old-timer" was credited with saving
several newer staff members from "considerable loss of face" by
stopping a research solicitation that, although apparently "safe"
and addressing a timely and important topic, did not reflect
consideration of the possible reactions from Congress or the public:

One of the people downstairs put out a solicitation on that

topic, and one of the peOple up here who's been around for

a long time said "no, no, no, you can't do this. I mean

how absurd does that sound, LEAA is going to [do a study on

this particular topic] which could be twisted and manipulated

in a highly embarrassing manner].." That's how it would be

translated (II: 1-ll).*

Changes in the executive office may also mediate Institute
operations and create a source of politicization. The Institute had
not yet taken shape when Nixon took office in January 1969. Key
positions had not yet been filled, research projects had not yet
been implemented to provide a shape for policy-setting, and the
actual targets for research remained unclear. During the 1968
election, Nixon had campaigned on an anticrime platform, and the
emphasis on controllipg crime was translated into reducing crime
rates, which in turn led to the implicit (though sometimes explicit)
interest throughout LEAA in developing programs designed to reduce
crime. But as former U.S. Attorney General Nicholas Katzenbach

(1969: 7) has argued, there is no real connection between the rise

in street crime, the real problem, and other forms of civil disorder

 

*This informant required that nothing be phrased that might
identify him as a source of information of any kind. Transcripts
available for inspection.

130

(e.g., civil rights and student protests) on which Nixon based much
of his "law-and-order" campaigning. The dramatic and demogogic cry
to stop the "crime wave" by Nixon and his Attorney General was
directed largely at two groups: Political activists and the urban
inner-city dwellers. Nixon's approach to crime was not aimed at
correcting alleged politicay injustices, cleaning up slums or
addressing the issues of poverty, but in locking up more malefactors.
Nixon had argued:

If the conviction rate were doubled in this country it would

do more to eliminate crime in the future than a quadrupling

of the funds for any governmental war on poverty (cited in

Harris, 1969: 74).

Dramatizing the crime problem by alluding to social unrest,
while also attempting to address problems of "street crime" had
serious consequences for any agency caught up in this contradictory
policy. In the early 19708 when the evaluation of such programs
was attempted, it revealed a problem in the Institute:

The interest in evaluation was encouraging, but it had

unfortunate consequences for the development of the Institute:

it hardened and intensified LEAA's commitment to the goal

of directly controlling crime, even for the research program.

It involved Institute staff in a lengthy and complex planning

‘process using specific reductions in crime rates as perform-
ance measures; and it produced sharp change in research and

development (R&D) strategy (White and Krislov, 1977:19).

Nixon, then, shaped a research program characterized by two
features. First was an emphasis on technology. Locking up criminals
presupposed their capture, so funds were channeled into police
technology and training programs which, it was believed, would

facilitate the capture of felons who could then be removed from

TABLE OF CONTENTS

131

the streets, making them safe.* Second, Nixon made Washington, D.C.
the target of massive anticrime programs, using LEAA/NILECJ funds to
address drug-related crime, violent crime, and other property-related
crime that victimized primarily the middle-class, and targeted
ghetto-poor as objects for control. In all, between 1969-1972, LEAA
pumped $11,145,000 into crime control efforts in the capitol (see,
e.g., Gude and Mannina, Jr., 1973).

It should not be inferred from this that Nixon's sole interest
was in eliminating urban crime. Harris (1970: 166-68) has observed
that two months after Nixon entered the White House, urban critics
(e.g., the National League of Cities and the United States Conference
of Mayers) accused the Nixon-appointed administration of siphoning
funds from LEAA planning grants and diverting them into low-crime
rural areas. Whether Nixon was attempting to use LEAA/NILECJ as a
political instrument to repay southern senators for support during
the 1968 election or whether this was an independent LEAA policy
decision is difficult to determine at this point.

The point to be made here is that under the Nixon administration,
as under Johnson's before him,12 LEAA/NILECJ became a political foot-
ball, and this shaped the direction and scope of Institute research
by emphasizing a particular kind of research and ideology-tech-
nological and applied research, and a control-oriented ideology-
while discouraging other types of research as well as ignoring other

components of the criminal justice system. The NAS report (White and

 

*The Watergate tapes suggest that some of Nixon's rhetoric on
crime may also have reflected as much cynicism as political ideology.

132

Krislov, 1977. 177-78) cites congressional testimony illustrating
late representative John Rooney's hostility towards research, which
Institute personnel felt to be indicative of a significant number of
congressional personnel during the Nixon period. This tended to
politicize the Institute not only by generating particular types
of activity (e.g., emphasis on technological hardware) applicable to
crime control, but also excluded more-general research applicable
to other components of the criminal justice system. This politici-
zation also hindered the activities of the Institute director in
developing broad, innovative research programs.
Congressional pelitical jockeying is also reflected in the
1968 tripartite leadership structure.13 This troika was prohibited
from action without the unanimous agreement of all three members,
which weakened not just LEAA by paralyzing decision-making and
inhibiting planning and policy-setting (e.g., Chelimsky, 1975), but
also discouraged the establishment of an effective research program
and created confusion among Institute personnel regarding both
policy and goals. Then LEAA administrator Charles Rogovin, describes
the problem:
I had represented to [Institute Director Henry Ruth] that he
could design his own research program and enjoy real freedom
and flexibility in implementing it. I have rarely been more
in error.
Time and again Ruth's initiatives were frustrated by the
disagreements among Velde, Coster (the associate administrators]
and myself. Despite a wealth of experience in assessing the
quality of research institutions and individuals during his
service as Deputy Director of the Crime Commission and in
academic life, he was second-guessed on every judgment. His
selections for key staff positions in the Institute were debated
endlessly and often without conclusion. For literally months,
the man responsible for a multimillion dollar research budget

could not get authority to make grants or enter into research
contracts for any amount (1973: 18).

133

Rogovin also felt that the debates over "hardware vs. software"
research mired the Institute down in near-fatal involvement in high
technology research that failed to address the critical issues of
crime and criminal justice. This high technology research was seen
by Rogovin, in retrospect, to reflect political criteria:

Perhaps my former colleague Richard Velde sensed the
congressional winds most accurately. He always insisted

that a long-range research program would have better prospects

in the appropriations process if it had early and demonstrable

hardware successes.

Perhaps Velde was able to sense Nixon's political wind and
exploit it, but most informants shared the Opinion of a former
high-level LEAA official who suggested that although Velde was
known as a good "political in-fighter," he was not adept as an LEAA
leader:

There is also the possibility that people who are very dull and

stupid and arbitrary and status quo oriented can defeat [a

number of reform-oriented acts or research ideas]. Velde, now,

never wanted to change things much. He wanted things to be

efficient. *

At any rate, Velde's tenure at LEAA was short. The executive
office, through choice of appointments, unofficial suggestions and
official pronouncements is able to guide the direction of the
Institute. Former acting director Blair Ewing (1978: 271) explains
one way this was done:

The new National Administration which took office in

January, 1977, made it clear from.the beginning that it

intended to reorganize LEAA, that it wished to support basic

as well as applied research, that it wanted research to be

useful as well as of high quality, and that it wanted to
support civil as well as criminal justice research. The

 

*For Velde's self-view, see Velde, 1975. Velde sees as his
successes (e.g., emphasis on technology and police equipment and
physical fitness programs for police) what others have identified
as his failures.

134

President's Reorganization Project in OMB [Office of Management
and Budget], the Attorney General, and LEAA have reached agree-
ment on a reorganization plan for LEAA which will incorporate
these kinds of changes.

When Nixon resigned and Ford took over, Ford retained Velde as
Administrator of LEAA.

But it was clear he was a dead duck and a lame duck or both.
And as soon as Ford lost, Carter called up LEAA administrator
Velde within a month or so. . .he actually had the Attorney
General call Velde and fire him. He [i.e., Carter/ didn't
even call him.into his office, he didn't call him personally,
he told Griffin Bell to fire Velde. Velde was fired. . .

it was as quick and as neat as that (QN: 8-9).

One Institute program director suggested that Bell's hostility
towards LEAA may have been one major factor in contributing to the
decline of the technological orientation of research (and Velde's as
well). One example of technological R&D often used by critics of
LEAA is the "shooting shoe," allegedly developed to enable police
to have a secret weapon of sorts, a pistol, in the toe of their
shoe that could be triggered in an emergency. This was largely a
myth created for political reasons according to one program director:

Before I became involved in the Institute there may have been
an emphasis on technology which no longer exists. Velde's
shoe and the [bulletproof] vest, these are legitimate. . .
But the [shooting] shoe? No, no. . .it was never [begins
laughing] it was never designed [begins laughing harder,
almost uncontrollably]. . .it was never designed to [raises
foot to hip level] bang! bang! bang! It was never designed
to do that. No. But it was designed to have removable pads
to go climbing up Mount Everest, or some place, God! Bell
was antishoe, and he used the case of the shooting shoe in
his criticisms of the Institute and LEAA* (EG/ 19-5).

 

*Informants with a sense of LEAA history suggested that the
"shooting shoe" was not created by Bell, but used by him to attack
Velde. Other informants suggested that Bell knew Velde would be
leaving without being fired, and that Bell may have wanted to
embarrass Velde as much as possible before the departure.

135

Bell's antagonism to Velde's technological emphasis was seen as
the "writing on the wall," so to speak, and for some, marked the
beginning of the deemphasis of technology, which became a formal
deemphasis later on.

A former NILECJ officer explained how political and internal
bickering can mediate Institute practices by creating an environment
which may hinder or facilitate director activity:

Caplan, interestingly enough, was a Democrat, but had been
appointed to a whole series of jobs by the Republicans, and
the new administration felt uncomfortable with that apparently,
because they did not ask him to leave immediately, but it was
clear that there was an expectation that he should leave once
he'd arranged for some other position. They wouldn't press
him, but on the other hand, in early February there appeared
in the office a fellow named [X] appointed with the expecta-
tion that he would take over as the director of the Institute
and he was assigned to Jerry Caplan but in effect he didn't
work for Jerry Caplan. He was sort of Jerry Caplan's replace-
ment. And so time passed and finally in March, Caplan decided
it was time to leave. . .when he left, the administration
apparently was not prepared to appoint [X] immediately and so
[Ewing] was named acting director. By the time [Ewing] had
left, Caplan and Ewing had worked well together. Caplan's
view at this juncture was that Ewing had undertaken to begin
to manage the place because in the last couple of months he
was there, Caplan wasn't managing it. . .He was out for a time,
and Ewing had taken over, and Caplan was withdrawing gradually
and when he left he recommended that Ewing be named the
director and that [X] not be named the director, and that

[X] should be pulled out of there. The LEAA Administrator
told Ewing to put [X] to work, so he gave him a series of
tasks to do which was extremely awkward since he was likely

to be Ewing's boss. [X] didn't perform on those, and when
pressure was applied to the Attorney General in the summer to
appoint [X] as Director of the Institute, the response was
basically that he wasn't performing and that he [i.e., the
acting LEAA Administrator] certainly would not wish him to be
appointed as director of the Institute, so he wasn't and he
left the agency. So when Ewing took over, it wasn't clear at
all that he was going to be there very long as acting director,
but as it turned out, he was there 23 months, longer than all
of the others with one exception. It was unclear as to whether
he had a mandate to run the place or whether he was a caretaker,
and by the time [X] left, it became clear that Ewing would be
running the place, and was to restructure it. (26: 5-5)

136

The difficulties the directors faced, then, beginning with
Henry Ruth and continuing through the Carter appointees, have
continued to be largely infused with internal and external political
bickering. White and Krislov (1977: 8) note that during the Nixon
years:

Whether reporting to a hostile Congress or to a divided LEAA,

administration [under the mixed-party troika], the early

directors had a political rather than a research task. This
characterization of the role of the Institute directors
varies only in degree, never in kind, throughout the history
of the Institute.

The current acting director, Harry Brattin, is the seventh
Institute director in twelve years, and the current debates over
the form of the restructuring of LEAA and the Institute indicate
that it may be a few years before the Institute benefits from
steady leadership at the director level.

The point here is that one primary source of mediation is
in part ideological, in part structural. Whatever the intent of
the legislative mandate, it is politicized by both the executive
office (especially the President and Attorney General).* By
shaping the direction of the Institute either through direct
pressures such as favored projects (e.g., Nixon and his emphasis
on a) technological anticrime equipment and b) projects targeted

for Washington, D. C., or through specific appointments of personnel

(e.g., John Mitchell as Attorney General), executive discretion

 

*There was no evidence to indicate that the Justice Department,
particularly the FBI, were at all involved in attempts at politiciza-
tion, contrary, for example, to Chelimsky (1975) who suggested that
some competition and interference might be forthcoming from other
agencies within the Justice Department, particularly the FBI.

Figure l: LEAA Administrators and NILECJ Directors, 1968-79:
(Leadership Discontinuity in the Department of Justice Progrgp)1

I

 

Attorneys General

Administrators of

Directors of National
Institute of Lev
Enforcement and
Criminal Justice

 

of the 0.3. Lew Enforcement
Department of Assistance
Justice Administration
1968 Rsmssy‘Clsrk
Patrick Murphy (IO/68-3/69)
1969 John Mitchell (1/69-3I72) Charles Rogovin (3/69-6/70)
1970
Richard,W. Velde (6/70-4/71)‘
an
Jerris Lsonsrd (4/71-3/73)
1972 Richard G. Kleindienst (3]72-
6172*,6/72-5/73)
19 < Donald Santorelli (3/73-8/74)
Elliott L. Richardson (5]73-
, 10]?!)
Robert Bork (lO/73—lZ/73)*
1974 William B. Serbs (12173-2/75)
Richard 9. Velde (9’74-2/77)
1975 -Edwsrd l. Levi (2/75—1/77)
1977-79 Griffin 3. Bell James M. E. Gregg*

 

(ll77-9/79)

Benjamin R. civiletti
(9179-pressnt)

 

(3/77-10/78)

leery 8. Dogin
(lO/78-3I79*
3/79-present)

 

Ralph Siu (IO/68-3/69)**
Robert Ensrich (3/69-7/69)*

Henry 8. Ruth (7/69-5/70)

Irving L. Slott (5I70-8/71)*

Martin B. Danziger (8/71-2/12*
1’72-7/73)

lorry A. Scsrr (7/73-10/73)*
Gerald M. Caplan (lO/73-5I77)

Blair Ewing*
(5/77-3/79)

lsrry,lrstt*
(4i79-prssent)

 

*Served in either acting or unconfirmed capacity
*‘Siu was also Associate Administrator of LEAA

'Eources: Richard A. Rettig (1976), unpublished manuscript, RAND Corporation,

Washington, D.C.; Hammond Almanac, Signet (1979), New York;
LEAA Public Information Office, Washington, D.C.

137

can exploit the slippage between the agency and its environment in
a way that allows‘mediation of formal rules and structure.

Further, the lack of steady leadership subverts Institute
effectiveness by removing program continuity and creating a
situation laden with ambiguity and uncertainty for Institute
personnel. This leads to a situation where no long-term policies
are or have been established, and no precedents set to facilitate
operations when formal rules seem inapplicable. This does, however,
create loose-coupling, which in the case of the Institute, provides

for more individual discretion than might otherwise occur.

INTERNAL STRUCTURE

 

There are other more general features of the Institute which
can mediate state power and state apparatus. For example, prior
to the Ewing phase, the Institute had been strongly practitioner-
oriented, in part because of the political preferences which
dominated during the Nixon administration, and in part because of
the lack of respect of many scholars for NILECJ and its work.
Ewing felt that the Institute, because it lacked any clear constit-
uency, should build upon the research community, and saw as one
of his primary goals the need to remove the hostility that crimdnal
justice researchers were perceived to feel towards the Institute.
Ewing felt
The only thing approaching a constituency that the National
Institute had was a group of interested agency professionals,
police chiefs and so forth, but that's very small and they're

very fickle. One of the things I set out to do was to create
a constituency and the only constituency that's really likely

138

for a research agency is a research constituency, primarily,

but not exclusively, located in the academic world, so we began

very active courting with the academic world and there's, of
course, a very fine line between courting and prostitution.

I think we successfully walk that line on the side of courting.

(BE: 4:68)

Structural changes which led to stronger Institute academic
community links included the introduction of the peer review process
and other highly-visible attempts to integrate researchers more
directly into the operation of the Institute (e.g., an advisory
board, and workshops, which existed prior to Ewing, but were used
more effectively by him). During the Ewing period, the division of
labor and specific job requirements were more tightly assigned and
personnel became responsible for fulfilling their assigned tasks.
The tasks may be defined formally or loosely, but personnel were
required to "do the job." This was credited not only with improving
morale, but also with encouraging interaction of Institute personnel
both with each other and with outside researchers. This may have
contributed to the flexibility of staff by providing an opportunity
to develop individual projects and pursue private studies one
afternoon a week, both of which may have led to a deeper apprecia-
tion for, and closer ties with, researchers, both at personal and
at collegial levels.

The addition of a staff of Ph.D.s. transformed the Institute
from what was described as one of professional bureaucrats (charac-
terizing the first half-decade, especially under Nixon), and criminal

justice practitioners, to academically-trained personnel from a

variety of disciplines, and created an ambiance of theoretical,

139

methodological and thematic sophistication that the Institute had
previously lacked; This change in personnel may, in part, account
for the self-stated personal mission expressed by many to "advance
science." It might be assumed that research-oriented Ph.D.s may
be inclined to follow the norms of the research community rather
than the norms of law enforcement and control practitioners. The
introduction of student aides and multi-year graduate interns also
contributed to a change in mood and orientation by bringing in
"fresh blood” for the purpose of continuously infusing new ideas
and for developing a more collegial atmosphere.

Another less direct mediating structural factor involves what
O'Connor (1973) has identified as a symptom of the on-going fiscal
crisis of the state. The Institute employee union, LEAA local 2830,
has been fighting for more staff funding and benefits, and for
higher salaries and better recruitment policies (see, e.g., Senate
Bearings, 13 March 1979: 9), arguing that this would improve morale,
thus improving performance. The point to be made here is that the
Institute personnel, as members of society, are subject to the
same pressures and conflicts as other societal members. Thus, the
Institute, through the social actions of its members (e.g., in
struggling for worker benefits the same as other members of the
working class) are taking part in the kinds of activity that
generate larger-in this case fiscal-crises. This occurs because
increased employee and other benefits require larger allocations for
personnel, or else reductions in agency size and operations. This

contributes, according to O'Connor's cogent thesis, to rising costs

140

of maintaining both state power and state apparatus, which in turn
generates further conflicts in instrumental functionability and

social legitimacy, for example. The point here is that mediations
occur on a number of levels, and a complete analysis of the Institute's
activity must also include an understanding of the larger social
processes in which state power becomes mediated by human activity,

to include the participants within state apparatus.
STRUCTURE OF THE RESEARCH COMMUNITY

The work of the Institute is in many ways limited by the composi-
tion and structure of the academic community. The degree to which a
particular research area is shaped by the state of the field is
illustrated by the evolution of the Collective Disorder Project
which evolved out of a January 1978, workshop on collective violence.
The questions, approaches and general orientations were discussed by
the participants who represented a variety of criminal justice
specialties, and Robert Shellow (1978: 111-112) reminded the partici-
pants that collective violence research could proceed in two directions:
a) either announcing that general proposals would be solicited on
collective disorders, in which case there would be a general reflec-
tion of the state of the field, or b) soliciting researcher proposals
that would expand specific areas of collective disorder research.
In either case, the proposals would be limited by a lack of development
since, in his (and others) opinion it was an underdeveloped area. His
point was that in either case, the limitations of the field constrained

the options open to the Institute in identifying specific needs, other

141

than the general one of expanding existing literature, empirical limits
or theoretical analysis.

The theoretical development, the normative structure of the
practitioners and the manner in which questions are formulated and
inquiry procedures designed as well as the purposes for which research
results are intended, as well as who is doing the research all serve
to shape the kinds of knowledge that is sponsored. Even though the
Institute may solicit specific topics or veto the final proposals or
modify research procedures, the actual research proposals come from
the research community. Current fads, unpopular theories, and innova-
tive new developments of research may reflect normative procedures
of scientific activity, discourse, and dissemination (see, e.g., Merton,
1968; Cole, 1970; Cole §£_§l,, 1978; McCartney, 1970; McKee, 1967;
Smigel and Ross, 1970; Stehr and Larson, 1972; Chase, 1970; Beyer,

1978; Pfeffer, Leong and Strehl, 1977). Although some approaches may
be encouraged or retarded by Institute procedures, or by funding or
lack of it, the structure of the state of knowledge within the
research community itself is the ultimate source of the tools of
knowledge production, including the fundamental ideas of basic research
as well as the methodological and interpretative frameworks employed:

. . .we're subject to the same fads that occur in the academic

community. In the academic community there's a dissatisfaction

with rehabilitation, there's an interest in incapacitation and
deterrence research, and a growing interest in biosocial correlates
of crime and delinquency. And you know, this has an impact on our-

program [by overrepresenting these topics and appropriate .

methodologies]. . . .there has been a growing sophistication

in methodology and statistics, and that has had an impact on us.

we become much more methodologically oriented, far more method-
ologically sophisticated (QM: 1-2/45—6).

142

The Institute is often criticized by outsiders for not funding
radical researchers, and it is usually assumed this is because of an
ideological bias of the Institute, or reflects the bias of state
power. There may be some truth in this criticism, but it seems
to be tempered somewhat by the claim shared by several program
officers that "we're hungry for good Marxist analyses.” This may or
may not reflect the attitudes of other officers, but another staffer
accounted for the leek of Marxian-sponsored research by alluding to
its lack of empirical development within the criminal justice field
and the relatively few Marxian practitioners in the area. It was also
suggested that the few'Marxianroriented researchers engaged in
criminal justice research were either unwilling to apply or simply
did not feel that such research could be found acceptable by the
Institute.

Informants consistently acknowledged that the most exciting
research being done was by radical and critical research, although
they conceded that a proposal examining strategies intended to "smash
the state" would most likely 325 be funded, but they continually
stressed that "deviance pays," in that research raising new questions
and posing new solutions is highly sought, but difficult to find.
There was general agreement that the Institute was correctly perceived
as supporting research that might be labelled "conservative" in that
it supported a) traditional modes of examining a problem, and b) did
not seriously challenge the existing status quo of criminal justice.
But they consistently argued that this conservatism was not so much

a reflection of Institute ideology (although its true more so of LEAA,

143

but this, they suggested, could be because most support and input
came from state planning agencies rather than from.LEAA-instigated
programs), but rather reflected the conservative nature of the field
in general, and the social relations among researchers and between
researchers and criminal justice practitioners.

In sum, whatever the source of the ideology of Institute-
sponsored research, it seems that it is not located solely within
the Institute, and that the research community itself mediates
between that knowledge which is solicited and that which is ultimately

produced.
CONCLUSION

In sum, formal procedures and rules are mediated by a variety
of structurally-located factors, only a few of which have been
identified and tentatively described here. The targeting of research
areas and the selection of research proposals particularly are
subject to the penetration of influences which are not located within
formal Institute procedures (e.g., operational rules) or within the
source of Institute mandate (e.g., state power). Two generalizations
might be drawn: First, there is considerable potential because of
slippage between the Institute and its environment for policization
of research to occur other than as a direct result of state power.
Second, if politicization of research does occur, these slippage
areas, as possible sources, must be incorporated into an appropriate
analytic framework. The preceding analysis focused on factors at

the structural level which might impinge upon, and thereby shape,

144

Institute activity. It remains to be seen whether Institute behaviors
themselves are direct expressions of the state power it ostensibly
serves, or whether Institute behavior itself serves to mediate

the state research connection.

SECTION III: INTERACTIONAL MEDIAIIONS: LOOSE-COUPLING

INTRODUCTION

Karl Weick (1976: 1) has observed that the primary questions in
organizational analysis continue to be "how does an organization go
about doing what it does, and with what consequences for its people,
processes, products, and persistence?":

. . .the answers say essentially that an organization does

what it does because of plans, intentional selection of means

that get the organization to agree upon goals, and all of this

is accomplished by such rationalized procedures as cost benefit
analysis, division of labor, specified areas of discretion,

authority invested in the office, job descriptions, and a

consistent evaluation and reward system. The only problem with

the portrayal is that it is rare in nature.

If the argument in the preceding section was successful, then
it should be clear that slippage between the Institute and its
authorizing and public environments (the latter including both
researchers and the constituency, including practitioners and society)
generates ambivalence, contradiction and especially ambiguity in
rules and procedures. This creates a second set of factors that
mediate between formal Institute policies and actual application of
rules to specific situations. These factors are the individual
behaviors and activities of Institute personnel which derive from

discretionary opportunities and correspond to subjective rationality.

Subjective rationality refers to those processes which are guided

145

by strategies, policies, justifications and behaviors which charac-
terize an act of thought and reveal intelligent insights into the
components of a given situation as seen contextually (see, e.g.,
Manning, forthcoming), but do not necessarily correspond to, or even
reflect, consistency with formal procedures established by either
state power or formal Institute apparatus. The activities shaping
these processes are derived less directly from the structure of the
Institute, and depend on the situated activities of Institute
personnel. These include 1) the specific features of interaction
as they affect funding of the Institute, 2) Institute personnel and
the day-to-day interaction frameworks which they construct, 3) the
rationalizations and justifications for nonroutinized behaviors as
well as the processes for restructuring routine rules and behaviors,
and 4) the division of labor fragmentation of authority, and the
thrashing-out processes which occur because of limited resources
and political realities.

The working assumption of this section recognizes that the
specific structure of an organization both confines and defines the
behaviors and choices or organizational participants, but also
recognizes that slippage between the meaning of formal rules and
the actual methods of implementing those rules creates a situation
allowing for a wide range of individual flexibility and discretion.
This chapter is informed by both dialectical and negotiated order
perspectives. The advantage of integrating a negotiated order model
with a dialectical model is that it facilitates the identification of
mediating features of an organization by articulating the effects

of individual behaviors that might otherwise remain hidden. But rather

146

than focus on what Goffman (1972: 84-88) has called situated activity
systems, which examine, but do not transcend, the complexities of
facerto-face interaction and concrete content of individual
behaviors, a broader framework is needed that can encompass interac-
tion as it affects organizational outcomes. In contrast to the
visible policy statements of an organization which create the
structural context for individual behavior (and were discussed

in Sections I and II), the invisible policies, that is, those gpp_
£p§g_rules which supplement, facilitate or contravene the formal
organizational rules must be integrated into analysis. Unlike

formal policies, which may be identified by examining organizational
documents, formal operating procedures or authorizing legislation

of funding agencies, the informal Operations are what Gusfield

(1975: 4) has described as immediate, local and situational.
Documentary analysis provides a background against which to identify
the formal rules governing behaviors of organizational participants,
but such an examination cannot identify the actual practices which
may circumvent those rules. An interactional approach becomes useful
for two reasons. First, it will supplement the content analysis of
the next chapter by suggesting ways in which Federal funding policies
might be modified by individual practices, thus mediating the state-
research connection. Second, it will help clarify the sources of
funding policies and help identify sources at the interactional
level, that might allow for the politicization of funded research.
One useful concept for a dialectically-grounded negotiated order

approach is that of loose-coupling.

 

147

LOOSE-COUPLING

Loose-couplipg (e.g., Weick, 1976; Manning, 1979) may be useful

 

to illustrate the degree to which individual discretion in interpre-
tion of organizational policies occur. Loose-coupling refers to
decisions, behaviors, policies, and the like, which are made in
that grey area between organizational interdependence and individual
autonomy. 'The concept of loose-coupling is a metaphor that maintains

the structural connection between individual and organizational

 

behavior while preserving the phenomenological linkage between
behaviors and organizational environment. Loose-coupling allows for
analysis that retrieves the subject of analysis while simultaneously
not losing the object. It allows for the examination of organiza-
tional activity as hpppp_activity, rather than as abstract systems of
rationality or as objective systems interacting with other systems.
Although the concept itself is largely sensitizing and a-theoretical,
it is amenable to incorporation within a theoretical framework, thus
making the concept more powerful than a mere sensitizing device.
Loose-coupling conveys the image that coupled events, such as
congressional suggestions that community-crime prevention become
a research focus, and a corresponding Institute solicitation for
such research, such as the project on domestic disorder, are
responsive and interdependent, but that each event preserves a certain
independence and preserves also ontological and logical individuality
(e.g., Weick, 1976: 3).
The intent here is neither to expand nor develop a loose—coupling

model. Its methodological relevance is accepted and loose-coupling

148

is borrowed in order to map out a description of the coupling elements
within the Institute's research-funding processes. Rather than focus
solely on "tight-coupling," that is, on technical rules and systems
of formal authority, loose-coupling necessitates focusing on the
manner through which participants in an organization construct a
"social reality," molding formal rules through negotiation and
interaction to create a social order appropriate to their situation.
This section will present selected illustrative examples of loose-
coupling in order to examine the connection between Institute staff
and the larger agency (LEAA) structure, and at a higher level of
abstraction, the state (Federal) apparatus. By examining how
individuals within the Institute actually gp_Institute work, it
becomes possible to identify sources p£_mediations which occur as the
result of loosely connected points between NILECJ and various
features of its operation. The discussion will proceed by focusing
on 1) goal establishment, 2) budget setting, 3) implementation of
research and 4) the research-community-NILECJ connection.

1. Institute goal establishment. Especially during the Blair
Ewing phase, the Institute, through its official literature and
rhetoric presented itself as an agency that relied on a formalized
set of goals externally shaped by a variety of sources. There is
limited opportunity for Institute personnel to have significant impact
on structuring of formal goals of the Institute, if not actual mandate,
and particular individuals may even have minimal input either through
informally offering suggestions to influential persons with whom they

are in contact, or through testimony at congressional hearings.

149

However, although the Institute's goals are formally set by the
congressional and’executive branches of government, the NILECJ director
does retain wide latitude in setting organizational goals (see below)
and by various committees appointed to suggest policy.* Such policy-
advising committees, judging by the recommendations reflected in
their minutes and by the subsequent legislation, are highly effective
in shaping the organizational structure and mission of the Institute.

2. Budget. It is easy to overemphasize the importance of fiscal
policies, so it must be understood that there is absolutely no
evidence to indicate that the size of a grant reflects the importance
of a project or the quality of research. Fiscal matters do, however,
reflect features of Institute interaction. Because the Institute's
budget is a fixed sum set by law, there is virtually no opportunity
for NILECJ staff to upwardly adjust the size of their fiscal pie.
There is little apparent squabbling internally over funds, and many
staff, in fact, feel somewhat uneasy even about increasing the yearly
allotment, and one program director summed up the feeling shared by
most informants:

There are a lot of people around here, and I'm one, who‘s not

in favor of more money than what we have, and I'm not concerned

if we keep what we have or even reduce it slightly. I think

that as the organization gets too large, things get messed up.

Right now, we get about $23 million, and I'm.in favor of keeping

it there, and letting inflation have the effect of reducing how
much we can do. By letting inflation have its impact, we can

 

*It should be remembered that the NILECJ advisory board is not
a policy-setting board, and in its official capacity acts only on matters
presented to it, thus making its gg_jure (though not necessarily gg_
facto) role a-symmetrical.

150

limit ourselves to high quality in a few areas rather than poor

quality in a lot of areas. Maybe among administrators, the budget

stuff and [golden fleece awards] are fiscal threats. But maybe
the rest of us are concerned about getting a "bum rap," about

getting the image that all of what we do is garbage (QM: 35).

The awareness that increased budgets can lead to operational
problems which could in turn result in personal criticisms against
program directors or administrative headaches (e.g., monitoring large

0
projects with inadequate mechanisms or staff), is a common theme among
informants, and suggests that there may occur here a lowblevel mediat-
ing mechanism. The lack of aggressive fighting or planning for higher
budgets or of not encouraging multi-year labor-intensive, high-capital
projects, suggests that there is at least an ambivalence regarding
budget. This suggests that even should Institute personnel feel
budget increases are necessary, there is no unanimity regarding the
necessity or desirability of such increases, let alone a feeling that
increased budgets will generate increased research quality.

A division is relatively free to distribute resources on any
combination of projects of varying sizes, thus allowing for some fiscal
discretion. Within divisions, informants consistently deny significant
"in-fighting," or operational jealousy over the distribution of funds
for a particular project. Informants agree that the following corres-
ponds to how the allocation meetings between divisions usually proceed:

[After deciding that general topics shall coincide with the

priority areas] we decide whether it's worthwhile or not-when

the planning begins for all the groups, what's planned for in

dollar figures far exceeds what we know will be real, and any

arguments, decisions, and so forth, then begin. We pare it down
to the figure that it has to be pared down to--we know what the

limit is, and dividing up each year by precedent. It works down
in the planning process (s/4/l4).

151

The individual responses occurring during this group negotiation
process are viewed by informants as being motivated by a variety of
factors, including ego-investment (personal commitment to a particular
program or issue), political acuity (self-serving projects designed for
personal advance, for ideological expression or to avoid "boat rocking"),
awareness of Institute needs and goals, or by political or ideological
perspectives. Negotiation also occurs within divisions:

Say there was a project that we wanted to do this next fiscal

year, but our money was cut back and we had to postpone it,

then we put that back in for consideration. Then there are a

bunch of project spaces, and we discuss our focus in each

research area, and decide we want to divide up the money

and do something in each subarea on violent crime or white

collar crime, 0r environmental crime prevention (MN/7).

There are two points here. First, the internal distribution of
funds is made informally by staff rather than by predefined rules of
distribution which mandate specific funds for specific projects, and
second, that the rationale is negotiated according to recommendations
and preferences of Institute staff, not by state power. In other
words, the funds targeted for specific research areas are largely con-
tingent upon staff ideology, perspectives, understandings and meanings
as well as upon formal rules of state power or apparatus. An Institute
veteran described the rationale that had occurred in a recent division
budget meeting:

Now if I have a $2 million budget to work with this year, and

the administrator says to the police division with a $2 million

budget, "Why don't you take $500,000 of that money and give it

to Joe Doaks, or he says, because he's much more politically

astute, he might say,, "I want it to go for a particular type

of research," which might earmark it for Joe Doaks. That

means the police division now only has one-and-a-half million

to work with, so you propose a number of things you would like

to do. Some of them would maybe not fit, you just couldn't
get bosses to buy off on. They either do not agree that it is

152

important which is a legitimate professional disagreement, or
they think that it would somehow be damaging to the reputation
of the organization because it's risky research and that it's
not money well spent. That could also be considered a
legitimate professional disagreement. So you have a pot of money
and you have a lot of projects you decide to do. Well, now
all of a sudden you've found which projects you can work in,
and you start dividing up the money. Well, it depends on what
state you're at in that particular subject. If you were going
to look at response time, for example, and no one had done any
work in response time before, and when you want to do the piece
of work, you find that the only valid way of measuring those
times are to put an observer in the car for a long period of
time, and that automatically means that the project is going
to eat up a lot of money, because that costs. If, for example,
at this stage in time, you were going to do some more work on
response time, it might not have‘to cost as much as it did
originally because we have a massive body of data looking at
response time. A good amount of money could probably be

spent on doing secondary analysis. This becomes a much-less
expensive project, just because of the methodology of doing it,
what you have to do to get the information you need. Then
you have some pieces of work where you're not sure where you
want to go. You think it's important, but you're not going

to stick $500,000 for a piece of work that, who knows what
we're going to do with it. I mean, really it could end up a
great thing or a complete bust. So you do conceptual pieces,
work that is more conceptual in nature. And it's maybe the
the type of armchair philosOphizing or secondary analysis of
existing data. . .Let's pull all the literature together and
see what it has to say--this becomes a lost less expensive,
and it could be a very profitable project. You could come up
with something. You could consider from the very beginning
that it was an important thing to be done, that it was the
necessary first step, and the necessary first step was not
something that you wanted to or could spend a lot of money

on because of the nature of the problem, a very important
problem. It just happens that you can do a very important
part of the work on that problem for $100,000 instead of

$1 million. There's different ways of looking at allocations
and justifications expenditures. (CT:82)

This suggests that many of the factors underlying financing
and selecting research projects are practical and pragmatic. It also
suggests that the amount of funds expended on a given project is
not an adequate indicator of the degree of commitment to a research

project or area. The application of an intensity index (e.g., NAS

153

Standards and Goals, 1976: 20) as a measure of the commitment of an
agency was criticized by agency personnel.~ An intensity index is
believed to measure the relative importance of projects in relation
to one another by calculating the ratio of expenditures on a
particular project or category of R&D to the total agency research
expenditures, thus providing an index to agency ideology, intentions,
or goals:

Because we invest $5 million in one project and $1 million in
another, this doesn't mean that we favor or think that the big
project is more important, because very often it could be
exactly the opposite. The sum does pp£_represent priority.
The sum represents the dollar figure that we figure is needed
to get the job, the research job, accomplished (EC: 72).

Another program director was more explicit:

If you take an index like that and use it as you measure, it's
measuring mixed reality. I mean, the administration's priorities,
and interplay with the agency's priorities, and interplay with
the institute's priorities which are somewhat different from

the agency's. . .I mean they're interested in research, and the
'agency is interested in action. That's an index of a lot of
interplay of decision makers. (CT:83)

And again:

It's unfair to take a strict budget. . .I mean, we live in a
political environment, we operate in a political environment,
and you just can't take a budget and think it's important.

I mean, there are different levels. There's the administrator
and what the administrator considers priorities, what the
administration considers priorities, and what the institute
director considers priorities. Then there's the working people,
and what they consider priorities. They might agree. In all
likelihood, they do not agreel!

There are two points to be made here. First, budget allocations,
either within an office or a division, or between projects and programs
within a division, are not seen by personnel as objective, unproblematic
indices of either the significance of a research area or of an agency

or of staff commitment to a topic or area. This suggests that

154

interpretation of agency goals or intentions based on budget or funding
ratios may be neither accurate nor adequate. It is the underlying
situational definitions imputed to a project, as well as the project's
significance to, and impact upon, the research and practitioner
community, which are more important than an expenditure ratio.

Second, this indicates a variety of elements that reflect the
loosely coupled connections between state power and state apparatus
which are capable of mediating allocation of funds. Further, although
staff is limited by budgetary contraints, these constraints do not
prevent specific topics from.being addressed, nor does budget appear
to be a methodological or ideolOgical constraint in selection of
research topics. It is fully possible, as several staff have done,
to implement complex research on a variety of topics by developing
specific strategies that will allow research to be conducted within
budget constraints. Budget limitations may be circumvented by a
variety of methods in order to accomplish research goals, and budget
need not necessarily limit the creative program officer from pursuing
a particular topic.

' In sum, the interplay between a host of factors must be examined
before the significance of a particular project or series of projects
can be identified. The most important of these factors seems to
be the negotiation processes that occur at various stages of decision-
making between program officers and other staff who develop ideas
and between officers and division/office directors, and on up the
administrative ladder.

3. Implementation of Research. In this state of Institute

activity occurs the greatest flexibility and individual discretion.

 

155

There are three processes which occur at this stage. gipgp, research
areas are identified. This process most directly connects Institute
personnel to formal goals and priorities. Second, the drafting
and dissemination of solicitations involves interaction between
Institute personnel and offers access to a variety of personal
elements which may politicize research in accord with the personal
style of the persons writing up the solicitation. ‘Thipg_is the
review and selection of proposals which connects personnel in the
Institute to research practitioners. Here, particularly, loose-
coupling mediates the state/research connection.
a. Identification of institute priorities and research areas.
Personal considerations and individual interpretation of goals are
a major source of specific research projects. Prior to the Ewing
phase, it was felt that "Caplan had funded all his friends. He
denied money to his enemies." This setup, an old-boy system according
to informants, not only discouraged many academics from applying,
but also created narrow topic areas. Informants and institute policy
documents reveal that the director, given the authority and mandate
from the LEAA administrator, is able to reorganize a variety of
Institute structural features which in turn affect the selection
process (see Section II). The changes of Ewing, for example, were
credited with changing the operation of staff in two ways. First,
Ewing emphasized basic research which encouraged staff to develop
a less immediate view towards the impact of results of research:
Basic research was very much encouraged in the last couple
years, which it should have been, because it took us that.
long to really believe that we could do basic research,

because we were so sure before that the government would
never approve any basic research, that we didn't even try (ON: 6).

156

The structural changes implemented at the discretion of the

 

director had interactional consequences at the level of the staff

 

Operation. The emphasis on basic research not only freed staff
from a perceived set of criteria required by "government" which
constrained what could and couldn't be done, but weakened the
connection between state power and state apparatus by (a) allowing
more staff discretion, and (b) removing the perceived narrow focus
of applied research with relatively more explicit definition, and
expanded the nature of research to include projects which could not
be as easily evaluated as applied (in that the results were less
immediately tangible). It also led to a shift in Institute focus
from the state as primary client to the research community and its
corresponding scientific and professional norms. In addition, this
created considerably more latitude for individual discretion by
opening up new potential constituency and new research areas, formerly
perceived as closed, which allowed for considerable mediation of the
selection process.

Further, program officers, as members of the public, felt free
to allow this membership to suggest tapics. As members of an informed
public, many had definite positions regarding the direction and focus
of criminal justice research which they attempted to integrate into
research areas. Informants, with few exceptions, self-identified
themselves and the Institute as liberal or progressive, and suggested
that their personal values and ideology shaped the preferences of
topics, methodology and theoretical orientations. They also suggested

that government research might be methodologically positivistic or

157

ideologically conservative because of the dominant inquiry systems
and state of the field in the social sciences. Staff would feel
more proclivity for research traditions in which they had been
trained rather than new interpretative analytic models, and would
thus tend to reflect their own intellectual backgrounds rather than
these newer models which usually required a period of time before
influencing bureaucratic agencies.

The latitude available to institute personnel, then, from
director through division operatives, creates an individualized
interpretive schema that mediates formal rules. This occurs on a
variety of levels, two common ones being a) the view of the mandate
that guides action, and b) interpretation of specific policies.
Prior to the Ewing period, the Institute staff lacked the degree of
flexibility that was developed under Ewing. There was little
opportunity to develop research projects as proposals, since
proposals were submitted unsolicited. There lacked the formal and
informal links with the research community to the extent that were
developed under Ewing. There was no encouragement for individual
initiative in development of individual staff projects or self-
development of staff capabilities, and there was no effort to initiate
innovative research because of a general personnel malaise. Those
and other features of the pre-Ewing period have been summarized both
in the White and Krislov report (1977) and in congressional testimony
(e.g., DISPAC, 1977).

One result of this flexibility is that Institute personnel may

have available to them the perogative of interpreting policy. One

158

program officer defined the Institute mandate of crime control in his
own terms, as making the criminal justice system.more effective and
fair, and viewed "control" only in the loosest possible sense, and
"crime was expanded to include research concepts themselves, as well
as wider definitions (white collar and environmental, for example),
and alternative solutions to crime problems that extended beyond

the typical "offender" focus. Another program officer viewed the
mission of the Institute as

. . .advancing the state of practice by advancing the state of

knowledge. This can be done by encouraging people to work, or

to inquiry, in certain areas. . .so the Institute focuses on
two general approaches or strategies. First to improve the
substance of research, and second, to improve the practitioners

and researchers. . .

This officer stressed the reform commitment his office had
towards the criminal justice system, and criticized the parochialism
among social scientists and felt, as did nearly the entire Institute
staff, that "studies from so-called prominent researchers are often
just trash!!!" They believed that much of the criticism of the
Institute should be shared by the research community for its lack of
development which hindered the various individually-defined as well
as the formally-defined mission of the Institute.

One officer self-identified his mission as directed towards
the research community in general as well as towards the federal
government, and understood his mission to be one of overcoming at
least some of these problems within the research community.

It's parochial, very parochial [among criminal justice researchers]

because nobody knows what anybody else is doing. I think one

mission of the Institute is to overcome this parochialism. This
can be done through money and time. Money would shape how

researchers spend their time, and in a sense direct the kinds of
research they would do, and this would in turn provide more

159

studies which in turn would provide more material in the field

for students to look at, which in turn would provide more

material in the field for students to look at, which in turn
would provide models and exemplars. This would contribute to

breaking down the damaging parochialism (X: 9/69).

This response suggests, as do the responses of others, that there
is a pervasive feeling the Institute support 0f research can shape the
field in general, not just funded research, not just criminal justice
research but social science research in general.

One person suggested:

The money goes to the professors, who get graduate assistants,

and this in turn begets a cycle of research from the funds.

The methods and topics and procedures can be influence and

you have to look at funding as sort of seed money.

Whether funding has had, or even can have, such an effect is
problematic, but the point here is that some persons view their job
as one that transcends state or agency needs, and is guided by an
ideal of "quality science." If this attitude is as pervasive and
intense as informants convey, this occupational attitude could be a
primary mediating factor between state power and state apparatus,
for it indicates how loosely normative systems and ideological
perspectives may be coupled to components of state operations.

The flexibility in interpreting rules also leads to a distinction
between what is considered formal Institute policy which may indicate
the preferred research expected by formal rules, and "common sense"
(reflecting substantive rationality) which is guided by ambiguous,
often vague rules which lead to the acceptance of "quality" research.
It is the latter set of rules, relating to sound methodology, good

research, "interesting and worthwhile topics" in the area of criminal

justice, to which staff claimed to adhere:

160

There are companies and people out there that can write a
beautiful proposal but couldn't tie their own shoestrings when
it comes to doing a worthwhile piece of work, an imaginative
piece of work, a work where they want to go out on a limb and
try something different, or where they really do that something
extra to get it. They're not going to do that. They're going
to meet the contractual arrangements, write a prOposal, and

can meet all the points that you lay out to them as the criteria
for the judgment of the proposal, and they can meet it all
beautifully, and they're going to do a very mediocre piece of
work for you. And depending on what you have in mind, you might
want somebody who cannot write that kind of a proposal who is '
not going to meet all those final criteria. . . we don't have
many people doing that kind of work (5/78/II).

 

In sum, the formal rules that appear to guide the carving out
of research areas and selection of topics are not always the best
clue to predicting outcomes or especially to imputing meanings to
specific outcomes. For example, a congressional suggestion to
"crack down on political disorder" may connect with a project idea
on political disorder that is not intended to examine civil violence
as something upon which the government must "crack down." Or a study
on the use of more effective police force may have been suggested by
the executive branch (e.g., Attorney General) to examine how it might
be made more effective, but the final study may be one that recom-
mends that police should not be used in civil disorders, or that
police should be disarmed. This suggests that the activity of
Institute staff, as part of state apparatus, are loosely coupled to
the dictums and organizational requisites of state power such that
staff activity, often discretionary, sometimes arbitrary, and usually
subject to substantive rather than formal rationality, mediates the
formal legislative mandate or informal pressures of the executive and
legislative branches. This means that what finally is identified as

an important research area may or may not be a reflection of the intent

161

of persons exercising state power. This occurs not because of arbitrary
or nonidentifiable "unanticipated consequences" or organizational
activity, but because organizational activity has been modified (or
mediated) by a succession of identifiable Institute procedures,

director discretion, staff implementation, and research community
operations.

b. Solicitation procedures. The mediating effects of loose-
coupling occur also in the solicitation procedures. Once a general
idea idea for research has been decided, a staff member, usually
the originator of the idea, or one with a particular claim to
expertise in the area, will draft a brief statement soliciting
proposals from researchers. The increase in college-trained personnel
who were encouraged to maintain personal links with the academic
community was credited with transforming the solicitation process
from.a mechanical bureaucratic task into a reasonably creative
exercise. The solicitations, according both to informants and to
a review of selected solicitations, are designed to respond to
"Institute goals," but these goals are defined very generally. For
example, in the solicitation for proposals on collective disorders,
applicants are advised to respond to institute goals by addressing
several general objectives: 1) to provide a state of the art review
of the literature on issues related to collective disorders, including
a historical perspective; 2) to gather national data from both
participant and regulatory groups on the descriptive and dynamic
features of collective disorders and related factors, and 3) to

provide a recommended research program incorporating a historical

162

perspective, development of current research and theory, and develOpment
of basic and policy-oriented research programs. The loosely-coupled
nature of the Institute organizational structure and procedure

enables this particular research project to be mediated at a variety

of points. In addition to the influence of the project officers who ‘
initiated the project and drafted the solicitation, the recommenda-
tions and influence of the participants in the workshop on collective
disorder were, as examination of workshOp transcripts and the

research solicitation reveal, also influential.

Once the solicitation has been drafted and disseminated and the
proposals are submitted, the review process begins, and both staff
and reviewers have available considerable discretion based on
substantive, rather than formal rationality. Penetration of substan-
tive rationality occurs at several points. For example, although
the "old-boy" system has been minimized, there nonetheless remain
favorite siblings who may receive preferential treatment. In addition
to ensuring that particular individuals are aware of proposed solici-
tations, it is also possible for program personnel to encourage
last minute solicitations from favored researchers. Especially if
the field of competition is weak, such "inside dope" could provide a
considerable advantage to the favored sibling, at the expense (and
perhaps subsequent exclusion) of those not so fortunate.

Although the institute staff have no review responsibilities,
prior to sending prOposals out for review staff performs a screening
to eliminate those proposals that are "clearly unsuitable." There

are a few formal guidelines for this screening (e.g., incomplete

163

proposals, crank requests), but there were also a set of tacit, gpp_
Eppg rules that appear to operate, although it was difficult in this
project to ascertain the nature or extent of those rule. Nonetheless,
there was evidence from self-reports that at this initial stage of the
review process some projects may be excluded solely on the personal
bias of the screener. Further, institute personnel may suggest (or
require) methodological changes which constitute another potential
access point of Subtle bias, for as shall be argued in Chapter 5,
research procedures themselves may contain latent and fundamental
political implications.

The peer review process, as described in Section I of this chap-
ter, was intended to make grants competitive and to assure a "fairly
high standard" of research. Informants estimate that 90% of all
awards are made on the basis of solicitation and peer review. The
peer review process is another point of access for penetration of
mediating. This occurs in several ways. First, although the reviewers
are selected by a private corporation contracted for the purpose, the
project officer requests a set of characteristics which significantly
constrain the choices available. Next, it is possible to request
additional eligibles to choose from:

If they [i.e., Public Research Corporation] send me a list of

maybe 20 people that we think can do the review. I can take

a look at that list and say, OK, we need three people, and I

cannot find two that I'm satisfied with on the list, I would

just get back in touch with them.and say I need more names

(9/9: 81).

To what extent peer reviews may be biased, and for what reasons,

was not determined, and there is no evidence to indicate that the

procedures are not used in good faith. This discussion is not meant

164

to imply lack of personal integrity of agency personnel or research
practitioners, but’to indicate how formal procedures may be circum—
vented. '

Further, proposals are not, according to informants, reviewed
anonymously. This allows for the possibility of biased readings
(pro or con) which lead to the acceptance or rejection of a paper on
name rather than content. The extent to which such biased readings
occur would be difficult to ascertain, especially if the bias was not
intentional (and what reviewer would be candid enough to concede
that the peer decision was made simply because, as a reviewer admitted
in a different context "Fuck the contents! The author's a schmuck
and should be shot!").

The primary lesson from.this is that there occurs a point at
which, at the discretion of the Institute staff or of reviewers,
an opportunity exists to significantly circumvent established rules.
This circumvention may derive from arbitrary or rational rules, but
nonetheless, the formal rules are mediated by such activities, which
in turn may affect the research ultimately produced by shaping who is
funded and for what purpose.

c. Proposal selection. The selectiOn of proposals for funding
admits another level of mediation, that between the academic community
and the Institute. It has been argued that, especially within the
[past few years, the institute in many ways reflects the research
community (e.g., methodological and tOpical emphasis, shared ideology).
Informants have noticed what they describe as a remarkable consistency

between staff and reviewer decisions and judgments, perhaps resulting

165

from the greater NILECJ research community affinity. The research
community itself provides a discretionary component which must be
considered in an analysis of funding agency processes, since the
research itself comes from outside the Institute. The two most
obvious mediating factors are: l) the proposals submitted and
2) the peer review process. The agency is somewhat, although not
totally, constrained by the nature of the proposals that are submitted.
Although a solicitation may define a proposed topic with some
precision, and even though the Institute is able, at various points
in the processes to modify or clarify the methodological or conceptual
features of a successful proposal, the researchers and their staff
actually conduct the research and are free to pursue their research
unfettered and to write their conclusions as they wish. This means
that what is written and accepted as a proposal does not necessarily
assure that any latent agency ideological or political perspectives
will occur also in the research or in the dissemination of the results.
Further, although some researchers may intentionally orient
research findings towards perceived agency needs (e.g., Maines, 1978,
Useem, l976a, l976c), or attempt to strategically tailor proposals
to increase probability of funding, this does not mean that such
tailoring is necessary or even desirable. Besides the ambiguity of
explicit Institute mission, and despite the belief that federal agencies
seek a specific type of research, there is no evidence to indicate
that the Institute itself has such a clear sense of mission that it
can define it clearly and unambiguously, let alone that a researcher

could match it. On the contrary, it appears that the preferences

166

of the Institute personnel are too diverse to identify so simply as
"policy research oriented," "preferring hard statistics" or "aiming
research at social control." A review of successful proposals
reveals thematic, political, and procedural diversity not closely
fitting a predefined set of stereotypical ideological or political
features.

One final mediating mechanism is of interest here. Between
the Institute and the successful proposal author, there occurs the
possibility of bargaining and negotiation in various ways. One way
in particular provides a useful illustration for how mediation may
occur in a loosely-coupled system. For example, a review panel may
insist (or recommend) that a researcher's staff include a certain
type of person (police practitioner, police "expert," minority
representative). The degree to which a research staff may comprise
a predefined proportion of "types" is shaped by mediating influences
not only of immediate participants (i.e., the Institute, the required
personnel, the latitude of research in choosing personnel), but
also of larger ongoing social struggles (such as civil rights and
related activity), without which such considerations as minority
representation, for example, would have been unlikely. It allows
for the penetration of an additional mediating factor. For example,
a study on participants in political demonstrations would most likely
be conducted very differently if staff persons added at NILECJ's
suggestion were a police practitioner interested in developing
effective techniques for controlling social movements, or if the

persons were social activists opposing such control. That such staff

167

situations can reflect a source of political contention and unsatis—
factory representation is reflected in the current project on domestic
disorder in which the controversy of the politics of staff led to

the protest resignation of at least one prominent research advisor

(see, e.g., Seven Days, 30 March 1979: 5).

 

CONCLUSION

The purpose in examing the organizational and interactional
procedures of the Institute was to try to identify the degree to
which the Institute, as an example of state apparatus, directly
reflects the state power which authorizes it. An attempt was made
to identify the informal features of day-to-day enactment of institute
organizational procedures that indicate a loosely-coupled series of
procedures that mediate a) the legislative mandate, b) the formal
organizational rules, and c) the research selection process. From
the results we may tentatively conclude that the slippage which
occurs between Institute structure and its environment, as well as

the loosely-coupled connections which exist as the result of

 

situational activity, make the state/research connection far more
complex than is ordinarily assumed by conventional studies as
outlined in Chapter 3. NILECJ cannot be said to operate solely as a
direct expression of state power, not can it be said to directly
reflect only dominant class interests. The mediating features which
come into play between the state apparatus-NILECJ-a d those points
with which NILECJ comes in contact, as well as between NILECJ and

state power, require an analytic apparatus capable of identifying

168

not only the interests served, but also the factors which mediate
attempts to serve those interests.

This study suggests that formal structures and formal rationality
are mediated by informal procedures and substantive rationality.
In comparing the structure of the Institute with the actual processes
of carrying out the agency activities, several tentative conclusions
can be made. F1335, it would appear that activity within the Institute
consists of behaviors loosely-coupled to the structures of the organi-
zation. This has several implications: a) The outcomes of research
cannot be known in advance, and the funding process is thus guided
by other criteria than a logical sequence of desired outcomes. No
authority can mandate a research outcome by legislating it into
existence. This means that the Institute, in actual practice, must
rely on substantive rather than formal rationality, in evaluating
research ideas, established funding policies, and strategies for
implementing actions. There exist no formalized criteria for
assessing "final production" (despite "evaluation programs," which
are most effective in assessing the efficacy of research application,
but not the more difficult task of evaluating the benefits or worth
of research results, especially over the long term). Thus, assessment
and judgments of a project to be funded (as well as criteria for later
evaluation) must be based on particularistic, often pg.ppp.criteria,
rather than universalistic principles of legislative and organizational
rules.

Second, despite the strong penetration of state power which

directs organizational activity, there nevertheless exists a high

169

degree of discretion and individualistic criteria for selecting
appropriate behavior at the fundamental operational level of the
Institute. This challenges the view that state power causes organi—
zational~activity and outcomes, and that individual behaviors are
necessarily direct expressions of state interests, in that structural
slippage and discretionary activities of institute participants
substantially mediate state power and state apparatus on one hand, and
state apparatus and research on the other.*

Thipd, the sources of influence upon the Institute, though
powerful in themselves, exercise relatively little direct coordination
or interference into the Institute's operation at the research level.
This is in part because of several features identified in the
Institute funding processes, including contradictions that generate
organizational rule conflict (see, e.g., Manning, forthcoming). These
occur in several ways: a) The general rules of formal rationality
often conflict with the specific requirements of staff operations.

b) The general directions mandated for the organization can be
carried out only if the research itself is successful. Yet, the
research outcomes are always problematic and tentative. This suggests
that the specific policy decisions regarding which research projects
to fund cannot necessarily be decided on the basis of formal rules,

but instead must be based on the merits of the probability of a

 

*Although the findings suggest that the link between state power
and agency activity is not as direct as is sometimes assumed, it does
not mean that state power is not effective in shaping agency activity,
or perhaps more importantly, in shaping ideological and normative
frameworks at sources beyond agency activity.

170

successful project based on substantive rationality. c) The problem
of inconsistent directions remains a source of contradictions. The
problem of deciding for whom research is conducted (e.g., for its

own sake? For legislative considerations? For criminal justice
practitioners? For reform-oriented social engineers? For criminals?)
remains. d) The rationality of the researchers in both peer review
and in knowledge production may or may not coincide with agency needs,
and when incompatible, this may create organizational conflicts in
that goals may go unfulfilled, results may be controversial, or
projects may have limited, if any application. e) The norms of face-
to-face work groups may be shaped by sex/gender, ethnicity, personal
ideology, variations in interpretation of agency mandate and goals,

as well as by research consultants and participants. f) Social
pressures of various kinds may occur in that knowledge may be viewed
in part as itself embodying social conflict. That is, knowledge is
both symbolic and instrumental, and struggle over control of knowledge
takes the form of battle over appropriate questions, definitions, and
desired outcomes. 3) Dual rules do exist within the Institute. First
are those stipulated by the mandate, and these are contradictory and
vague. They are often either difficult or impossible to fulfill, or
often are not even considered as relevant as operating guides for
fundamental actions. The Institute's priority guidelines, which are
the primary guiding principles, are so vague as to be easily contravened
with reasonable justification. So contradictions exist between the
formally stipulated rules and the discretionary procedures employed

by staff in that the former are inapplicable or inappropriate to the

fulfillment of agency goals in some circumstances.

171

If this chapter has been successful, it should be clear that,
in the case of NILECJ, knowledge production is mediated by discre-
tionary behavior of those participating in the funding process, to
include both researchers and Institute staff. This means that
a) NILECJ cannot be viewed as a monolithic agency, since it contains
variations within its own structure; b) that the Institute, as a
component of state apparatus mediates state pgygp_such that an
understanding of federal funding cannot focus solely on the state
itself; and c) that the funding process is not guided by a set of
prespecified norms, plans or policies that are intended to define
procedures or topics of research, or are intended to encourage
researchers to mold research to an ideological or functional need
of the agency.

This suggests that it may be premature to conclude that federal
funding necessarily intrudes into the research process in a way that
alters research content or procedures. It remains, however, to
examine the outcomes of federally sponsored research as compared with
nonfunded research to examine whether there is a difference between

funded and nonfunded research.

172

FOOTNOTES

1The implications of such a relocation of locus is beyond the
immediate concern of this paper. Nor is such a relocation meant
to imply that role-incumbents be made the primary focal point for
analysis, a position for which there is no compelling evidence.
Underlying this relocation is a theoretical conflict over the nature
of capitalist society, particularly over the capitalist state formu-
lation (e.g., O'Connor, 1973; Habermas, 1975) as opposed to an "inner
group" formulation of the crisis nature of contemporary capitalism,
(e.g., Miliband, 1969; Useem, 1978; Mills, 1956). The former argue
that because of the crisis nature of contemporary capitalism, the
state has necessarily taken an increasing responsibility for maintain-
ing the requisites for smooth capital accumulation. For adherents of
this perspective, the state operates according to the logic of system
imperatives, and these imperatives, rather than the characteristics
of particular role incumbents, are problematic. For the latter
perspective, individual or group characteristics of role incumbents
are primary for study. This project may offer some modest contribu-
tion to the debate by providing empirical support that might eventually
be used to counter recent studies of the state in capitalist society
such as Useem's (1978) argument, for example, that we may understand
capitalism by understanding the characteristics of persons filling
positions within the capitalist state. See also Footnote 9.

2Outcome, as used here, refers to the socially-produced resources
and conditions of material life, the concrete historical forms of
social relations, social organization and social control mechanisms,
the forms of knowledge and technology that guide an organization's
goals and strategies, as well as consciousness (as a product of
interaction, ideas and language), history and ideology (see, e.g.,
Hydebrand, 1977: 85).

3There exists a common view among many academics and others that
LEAA and the Institute function in the service of politically conser-
vative interests. Both LEAA and the institute have long been
criticized (e.g., by community, congressional, public and even govern-
mental sources) of being subject to the influences of police practi-
tioners by its emphasis on technical hardware research, which included
dramatic projects (e.g., armored personnel carriers such as Louisiana's
"Big Bertha"), surveillance and computer information devices (e.g.,
Michigan's MINT system), Special Weapons and Tactics (SWAT) in Los
Angeles, and "Stop the Robberies, Ensure Safe Streets (STRESS), the
Detroit equivalent of "soldiers of occupation", according to some
critics). The dramatic imagery of these projects as control-oriented
techniques for repression was not wasted on ideologues. Although the
investment in technical research has changed in the past five years,
but it may also have been that the dramatic projects somewhat exag-
gerated the perception of an LEAA commitment to paramilitary research.

A second reason for the conservative image of LEAA derives from
the lack of a strong constituency in the research community from its

173
Footnotes, Con't.

inception. The failure of the original planners of the agency to
develop a broad-based constituency within the research community

prior to the planning, allocation, and implementation of research
programs, created a dependence upon practitioners, particularly the
police, for as one long-time staffer complained, the early LEAA policy
makers did not seem to recognize that the criminal justice field
consists of more than police and chiefs and officers. During the
Ewing phase, steps were taken to create a constituency and the effects
will be developed in Sections II and III.

The third reason for the conservative image of LEAA may be located
within the research community itself, reflecting a possible conserva-
tive bias of researchers. One NILECJ official suggested:

I have a feeling it's historical. . .I mean, who first started
doing the work? Look at Wolfgang and Skolnick and Reiss's work.,
‘They're individuals doing the work with their own philosophies,

and then the midwest researches at Northwestern or Indiana, RAND,
these are groups doing research for the government for a long time,
and they have clearances. RAND has worked for the Defense Depart-
ment, and probably the CIA and any number of security agencies.
People who work there are going to have to have security clearances.
And when they go out to expand their market, and they start
getting into police research, it's the same types of people going
to do that kind of work (CT: 91).

When the Institute first started funding criminal justice research,
not only did they lack close ties with the academic community, but
the state of criminal justice research was such that it was done in
a very traditional manner by researchers already committed both
ideologically and professionally to organizations either directly or
indirectly engaged in supporting an established social order according
to traditional views of control.

In sum, this conservative image is accurate in the sense that
the NILECJ supports conventional, status-qua oriented research.
It is nonetheless willing to support unconventional, even subversive
researchers according to informants, but will not support or solicit
"politically suicidal projects":

It's a political environment, and if we are going to do something
really off-the-wall, we have to figure, is it going to work? Is it
worth the fight? Do I have a chance? Is it worth it to see whether
it even flies or not? Sometimes it's worth the fight, or you don't
have a chance of winning at all, so it's not worth even trying. And
that goes right up the line. . .Like, the dissolution of the FBI.
That would really bend some noses. Now do you believe that the Jus--
tice Department is going to fund work to dissolve the FBI without a

174

Footnotes, Con't.

 

fight? No!!! There are political realities about what can be
done, what is risky, and what cannot be done.

Further, personnel often fight to fund unconventional research,
so the source of alleged NILECJ conservatism does not seem to lie in
a political conservatism of either agency policy or personnel, but
in two sources: 1) the early policies of LEAA/NILECJ under Nixon,
and 2) the research community itself, which in the 19603 was
intellectually conservative, although usually considered politically
liberal.

To call the Institute conservative, then, is a gloss-over the
meaning of the term as it embodies a world view and imagery that,
as suggested in Chapter 5, reflects a traditional view of social
science and neglects historical transformation of social activity.

4Underlying the debate over the director was the disagreement
over the purpose of the Institute. Velde felt the Institute should
be technically oriented, and argued "for someone skilled in the
esoterica of systems analysis and operations research" (Rogovin,
1973: 18). Regovin wanted "someone with criminal justice experience
and credibility, coupled with a reputation sufficient to engage the
attention of the researchers whom we would hope to attract to work
on the problems of criminal justice" (Rogovin, 1973: 17-18). Ironi-
cally, both men were democrats, and Rogovin, who was considered the
more liberal of the two, appealed to arch-conservative Mitchell and
won.

5A story has circulated around the Institute for several years
about one of the country's leading criminologists calling Blair
Ewing and asking if he had replaced his entire NILECJ staff, because
the quality of work had improved so dramatically in such a short
time. No, Ewing responded, he simply gave them more latitude and let
them demonstrate their own capabilities.

6Current authorization hearings, judging from transcripts and
from congressional and LEAA/NILECJ informants, have not gone badly for
NILECJ. Much of NILECJ-directed criticism of past years seems to
have disappeared. It was noted at the 26 April 1979 House subcommittee
session that an outspoken civil rights activist and congressional
Representative from Texas has gone so far as to say that LEAA did not
need restructuring, since the problems were primarily of administra-
tion and leadership rather than ideology.

7It should be remembered that LEAA was originally intended to be
a form of revenue sharipg, which allows autonomy to individual states
by returning funds to states with few, if any, restrictions on state
use. Block Grants are funds for which states are obliged to submit

175

plans which can be modified by the federal government, although states
retain considerable discretion in distribution. This is the primary
mode of funding by LEAA. Categgpical grants are allocated funds which
are subject to congressional supervision and control.

8Four theoretical perspectives are appropriate for addressing
policy-making by state apparatus. For some theorists (e.g., Miliband;
1969; Mills 1956; Useem 1978) the primary source of influence exists
within the social connections to which agency incumbents belong. This
view generally holds that personal attachments, group memberships, and
social and educational background shapes the consciousness of higher
level decision makers, most of whom share a common ideology and common
interests. Capitalist state theorists (Altvater 1973a, 1973b); Habermas
1975; O'Connor, 1973), with much cogency and theoretical and empirical
support, argue that decisions of policy-makers cannot be understood
without also understanding the role of the state in contemporary society.
According to this view, the state has increasingly taken on functions
that the private economic sector has become unwilling or unable to
perform. In this view, influence is a form of authority deriving from
the state's function of fulfilling the requisites of capitalist social
relations. This intervention by the state in a multiplicity of social,
political and economic areas serves to mediate social conflicts generated
by structural contradictions in the current form of industrialization,
in an attempt to maintain a smoothly-functioning and profitable economic
order.

Adherents of a rationality model of the state, as adumbrated by
Weber and reflected in the works of open-systems theorists, view
the structure and policies of the state as a sign of an increasing-
complex social order that requires increasingly sophisticated means of
coordination. These Weberian-oriented theorists would argue that sources
of influence derive from.increasingly sophisticated technical rules which
extend system rationality in order to rationalize social relations contain-
ing certain power and authority relations which serve to facilitate the.
efficiency and effectives of policy making. In this view, the state
represents a type of formal rationality through which goal attainment
and efficiency are secured by functionally-related positions and roles
(e.g., Weber, 1966; 1967). Rationalist models, however, do not
adequately account for interconnections between an organization and
other social elements, nor do they adequately account for interactional
features of organizations. ’

Finally, interactionist theorists (e.g., Manning, 1978; Silverman,
1972; Brown 1978; Weick, 1976) view the primary source of policy to be
set of negotiated outcomes occurring among agency personnel, and between
agency personnel and external sources.

9It is clear what effect pressure groups have had, and an
examination of the identity, strategies, and results of lobbying
directed at LEAA/NILECJ at the congressional level would be exceedingly
useful for an understanding of how much slippage may exist between

176

state power and state apparatus. It might, of course be argued that
such groups in fact support state power and become integrated within
it because of similar interests, but such an argument must also be
able to account for the mediating features of such interaction.

10Congressional staff (e.g., from Proxmire, Conyers and Kennedy
offices) felt that especially in recent years, citizens groups and
other indirect public pressures had a strong mediating effect on LEAA]
NILECJ policy. The nature, identity and effectiveness of such groups
was not pursued in this research. Their existence and interests are
occasionally alluded to in congressional testimony by congressional
participants, but transcripts give little direct account of the groups
themselves, nor any indication of their operational strategies or
effectiveness.

11The White and Krislov study has been criticized for poor
methodology, highly polemical conclusion, and a superficial concep-
tualization and analysis. These criticisms have some validity, but
even more damaging to their report is the degree to which analysis
of the Institute is ripped out of the social context in which in
functions (e.g., the U.S. criminal justice system, the new federalism
or state-capitalism) and examined in isolation of the federal policies
and other social factors which shape or constrain activity. The
report tends to identify the problems of Institute operation as
existing within the Institute itself (e.g., lack of leadership or
purpose, lack of clear policies), which may be partially accurate,
but lack of leadership, for example, is in part the direct result of
congressional (and other) forms of politicization occurring external
to the Institute. Further, the Institute, during the time of the
NAS report, was shaped by Nixon and Mitchell, and a full understanding
of the Institute cannot be undertaken without also including the
political connections linking the Institute to the policies and poli-
tiquing which shaped it.

Despite 18 months, a six-person staff and generous LEAA resources,
the White and Krislov study remains atthe most superficial level of
objectivistic organizational analysis because of the lowhlevel con-
ceptualization of the problem and total lack of any guiding theoretical
frame by which to inform inquiry. The report's boast (1977: ix) that
the staff "in many ways got to know more about the Institute than the
Institute itself" is both cavalier and inaccurate, for the report does
not raise the wider issues (e.g., the relationship between federal
sponsorship to research, the state of research within the criminal
justice areas, the political pressures and requisites shaping institute
function and operation, and the ideological connections underlying the
mission and operation of the Institute). Their report does provide
useful background information and data not yet found elsewhere, but the
report's reputation far exceeds any reasonable justification.

12Harris (1970: 167) argues that Johnson had used LEAA as a means
for political maneuvering. Johnson modified the appointment structure

177

of the LEAA administrator, changing it from an attorney general to a
Presidential appointment to promote his own political ambitions by
appeasing conservative Southern Senators (E.G., McClellan and Strom
Thurmand).

131n the original Senate (S. 917) and House (H.R. 5037) versions
of the 1968 Act, LEAA was to be administered under the control of the
Attorney General. Ramsey Clark became Acting Attorney General and
was confirmed as Attorney General in 1967 during congressional debates
on the act. Clark, an outspoken liberal democrat (see e.g., Clark,
1970), was considered by many as too liberal to oversee such a
potentially powerful agency:

Despite his intelligence, humanity, fundamental decency and
genuine concern for reform of criminal justice in the United
States, Clark alienated many members of the Congress by his
view of the needs and directions for a reform effort that he
articulated in congressional testimony and public speeches.
Among these were Senators McClellan and Hruska. McClellan
was Chairman of the Criminal Laws and Procedures Subcommittee
of the Senate's Judiciary Committee and Hruska was the rank-
ing Republican member. Both were determined that a program
with the potential power of the one proposed by the Johnson
Administration, in the crime field where both Senators regarded
themselves as expert, would not be placed under the control of
an Attorney General whose views were as unacceptable-even
anathematic--as were Ramsey Clark's (Rogovin, 1973: 12).

1['"Hardware" refers to technology employed by policing agencies
and included research on radio technology, prototype police cars,
police watches, ballistics, computers, helicopters and urban combat
weaponry. Software is typified by research in nontechnical
aspects of policing, such as correlates of crime, effectiveness of
components or strategies of the criminal justice system (such as
mandatory sentencing, alternatives to incarceration, improving
police response time), and preventive or demonstration projects.
Projects involving high-technology research had a certain dramatic
appeal for those persons who felt that reduction of crime through
more effective policing was LEAA's primary goal. The belief that
LEAA would soon win the crime war is typified by Attorney General
Richard Kliendienst's testimony before the House Committee on the
Judiciary in 1973 when asked of LEAA was judged to be a temporary
program:

Yes air. In other words, as the crime rate goes down, the
money goes down. When we get it down to acceptable limits
in a free society, then I hope I would have the opportunity
as a private citizen to come back here before this committee
and recommend that you eliminate this aspect of LEAA. Maybe
the Institute you ought to keep in terms of research and
expertise, but certainly these large block grant funds can
be phased out (cited in Chelimsky, 1975: 204).

178

Chapter 5

The Ideological Connection: Procedures and Content of Funded and
Nonfunded Research

Section 1: Procedures and Funding

 

INTRODUCTION

 

The primary task of this chapter is to examine whether federal

funding politicizes research. The image of the academic as a person

 

whose mind ranges freely through the entire world of ideas (e.g.,
Barber, 1952; Merton, 1968) may be subverted if the funding process
penetrates research activity in such a way as to impose an ideological
bias at any of the various stages of research.* By systematizing
already existing knowledge, and by producing new forms of knowledge,
one could expect funded research to create the appropriate theoretical
formulations as defined by funding agencies, for the purpose of meeting
the needs of specific agency mandate.

It was suggested in Chapter 4 that a number of factors may mediate
the formal mandate of a funding agency, particularly the situated
behaviors of agency participants. The argument of that chapter was
that federal funding may not create the appropriate conceptual apparatus
and research content as directly as sometimes assumed by those who view
funding agencies to correspond exactly to the needs of a dominant class

or of state steering requisites." There are several ways to formulate

 

*Ideology here refers to the identifiable system of shared beliefs,
values and justifications and world views that organize cognition,
interpretation, and behavior and also provides the bases for corres-
ponding accounts of features of human activity, which correspond to
the standpoints of specific classes or groups in society.

179

a discussion of the social and political content of research. One
could focus on an internalist-externalist dynamic, assessing whether
changes in topic, procedures, or ideology appear to derive from
influences external to the scientific process (e.g., Blume, 1974,
Salomon, 1973, 1977), or to influences internal to it. One could

also conceptualize discussion within the context of theories of
modern state in industrial society which would present knowledge as

a structural mediating device intended to overcome contradiction-
generated social conflict and to insure smoother capital accumulation
(O'Connor, 1973; Habermas 1975; Altvater 1973a, 1973b). Elitist and
managerial views of knowledge production (e.g., Mills 1956; Useem,
1978; Milliband, 1969) would view knowledge production as reflecting
the activity of incumbents of offices who employ their position to
defend specific interests. The arguments underlying these debates are
complex, and no attempt will be made to address them here. But it
should be possible to provide insights that could be useful in
contributing to those debates by examing the ideological.and procedural
features of funded and nonfunded policing studies. The methodological
problem becomes, as Nelson (1977: 577) has indicated, one of discover-
ing the content and character of the ideological connections existing
between researcher and inquiry activity in order to illustrate how

the ideological components shape content. This presupposes the

 

existence of such connections, but the presupposition is warranted

for several reasons. 'Eippp, it is assumed that research procedures,
like organizational decisions, do not proceed randomly, but follow
implicit or explicit procedural rules guided by some rationale. Second,

it is assumed that these rules are products of either explicit "official"

180

policy or of individual choice, both of which reflect either organiza-
tional or personal criteria which can be justified or rationalized

by an account. .EEEEQ: accounts derive from perceptual, procedural,
interpretative, and discursive features of social life and interac-
tiOn and contain ontological, epistemological and value premises
which shape how inquiry shall proceed. These premises are justified
by rationales which are unexamined. These rationales are the
ideological component of inquiry. Inquiry, then, derives from a
more-or—less coherent view of the world from which and by which we
organize experience, set goals and priorities, and select appropriate
strategies for attaining the goals of human activity, If funding

has an impact on either funded or nonfunded research, then the

effect should be apparent in the perceptual, procedural, interpretative
or discursive features of research.

The few empirical studies of the impact of federal funding on
research agree that federal sponsorship may be one source of politici-
zation of knowledge production (e.g., Miller, 1968; Denizen, 1970;
Carter, 1967; Frieden and Kaplan, 1977). Evidence suggesting the
politicization of federally-sponsored research has been submitted by
Galliher and McCarney (1973) who argue that trends in juvenile
delinquency research have been shaped by and accommodated to, interests
and emphases of research patrons. McCartney'(l970) has indicated that
a "hard data" approach has been encouraged by funding agencies, and
Useem (l976c) has shown with some success that the federal government
has managed to inject at least some of its priorities into the research
decisions of academic social scientists. USeem (l976a) has also

suggested that state patronage of social science research has led to

181

significant paradigmatic changes among research practitioners, and
has argued that state patronage of science and art may even represent
a new form of political and cultural domination (l976d).

The possibility that federal support of knowledge production
may bias both the procedures and problematics of social inquiry has
serious implications for policing research. As a result of the "war,
on crime," the federal government has, in the past decade, channelled
vast resources towards the support of agencies, commissions, programs,
and R&D activities intended to meet the so-called "challenge" of
reducing crime.

The various positions employed to examine the sponsorship-research
connection were examined in Chapter 2, and several images of the fund-
.ing-research connection emerged:

1) Funding agencies are inherently conservative, and this
conservatism is reflected in research. 2) Funding possesses a danger
to social science because of its tendency to influence researchers
to accept the funding agency's mission and needs, and to define
problems in accordance with agency interests, thus shaping procedures
and content of research. 3) Funded policing research reflects an
attempt by state agencies to develop more'efficient methods of
social control which serve to suppress social change or social conflict,
or which serve as a means of wresting power from.the representatives
of "Capital" (e.g., Willhelm, 1977). 4) Sponsorship shapes not only
funded studies, but nonfunded as well. 5) Research topics of funded
research are highly ideological and oriented towards the interests
of a "capitalist“ social structure which circumscribes research

problematics in a manner to which unfunded research is not as susceptible.

182

If policing studies are politicized by funding agencies, we
could then suggest policing studies, to borrow Burger and Luckman's
(1967: 104-16) phrase, provide the "conceptual machineries of
universe maintenance" which produce knowledge intended to legitimize,
enforce, reproduce, promote, as well as to justify, mystify and
distort particular sets of social relations. As Bouchier (1977)
reminds us, the major source of such legitimating theory is rationally
organized knowledge. If such politicization occurs, we might then
expect funded knowledge, as rationally organized, to differ signifi-
cantly from.nonfunded, which presumably lacks the same degree of
rational organization. The view that support of research poses a
serious threat to the independence of social science (e.g., Green,
1971; Baritz, 1960) is based on the assumption that social
scientists who are ppp_funded will retain, toua greater degree,
freedom from ideological and procedural biases resulting from the
penetration of sponsors into the research they are sponsoring.

If this is so, then there should exist a significant difference
between funded and non-funded research in both procedure, topic,
and ideology. The examination of political content will be divided
into two sections, one examining impact of funding on research
procedure and thematic content, the second focusing on selected

ideological ramifications of funding.

183

METHODOLOGY*

Employing a precise coding instrument, a content analysis of

three sociology journals (American Journal of Sociology; Social

 

Problems, and American Sociological Review), and two** policing
journals (Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology and Police Science;

and Police Chief) was conducted on policing social research studies***

 

published between 1960-1977. A social study was operationally
defined as any study that referred to the behavior of individuals
or institutions (e.g., White and Krislov, 1978: 9). Excluded were
any technical or policy studies which did not attempt to analyze
some feature of a social event, situation or institution, or to
address a theoretical or methodological issue of social analysis.
Research was defined as
. . .systematic, intensive study directed toward greater
knowledge or understanding of the subject studied. Social
research includes basic, applied, or policy research that
studies either the behavior of individuals, groups or

institutions or the effects of policies, programs, or
technologies on behavior (NAS, 1978: 10).

 

*A detailed discussion of the methodology employed for this
chapter will be found in Appendix 1,

**After 1972, Journal of Criminal Law, Criminolpgy and Police
Science appeared as Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, and
an off-shoot, Journal of Police Science and Administration began
publishing in 1973. The former journal was reviewed through 1977,
although no relevant studies were found after 1972. The latter
journal was reviewed from its first issue through 1977. Police
Chief was reviewed from 1962-1977 because of the difficulty and/or
impossibility of obtaining complete volumes from 1960-1961.

 

***For stylistic convenience, "policing social research studies"
will be referred to simply as "policing studies."

184

To qualify as a research study, an article was required to
contain at least one of four characteristics: a) a data source and
a systematic method for tapping it, b) an identifiable theoretical
perspective, c) be informed by an identifiable paradigm, and
d) include the assessment or exploration of some thesis.

A policing study refers to any study that a) focuses on policing
as an activity, behavior, organization, purpose or effect, or upon
functions, social tactics or strategies and goals of officially-
sanctioned social control agencies mandated to enforce laws by some
federal, state or municipal (e.g., city, township, county) agency
and legally empowered with authority to carry out this mandate;
uses police or policing as a primary dependent or independent
variable, or c) claims to provide insights, explanations or under-
standings about the activity, processes, development or occupation
of the social features of policing and its consequences for those
policed or for those policing.

These general guidelines, perhaps by coincidence rather than
precision, left little ambiguous or marginal articles, and also
successfully excluded general discussions and polemical essays.
Because these guidelines were relatively liberal, in the extremely

rare cases where ambiguity remained, those articles were excluded.
(Insert Table 1 about here)

Using both indexical and expressive analytic models*, a list of

categories was constructed to enable classification of methodological,

 

*See Appendix I for fuller discussion.

aana H“ hommst nonmwm.

 

HonuH museum Anv sun sooncuaoa “onv unnHoHoa cw nrnoolwson vonHoao H: noHoOnoa uosnsuHo. HmoOIchq.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoano
«own HoOOIHoON HooulHoou HuoolHoou HoooIkuH HoNNlHoN» HouulHouN HoaOIHouu
m an n a» m an N on m an . m an n on
assassH
>Bonwnna monHOHommmfiH c o c o H c N o o o H c 5 o
wo<Hot .
>amanon uocnsoH o c H N o H o o o c N H l w b
mm.monHoH0mN
moonH NHOVHoau o a H o N N H H u a H a m HH
10589:“ H o a c o ~ o S u a c. S 5 $ .
hosnssH mm.nnHaH=oH o w H a N u o m c c o c w Nm
WWW. nnHEHsoHomN.mmm
onHnm mnuwsno
hocHSsH mm.onHoo c a o o o o o o u uo Ho nu Hm Nu
Ewfi
>QBH=HmnnonHos

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoanu“ H . w Ho a u .Ho w No Hu mN Ha ao ea Ham

 

 

185

theoretical, ideological, political, and policy characteristics of
policing studies. ‘The most relevant methodological categories are

presented below.
PROCEDURES AND CONTENT OF RESEARCH

There are two general issues at stake in the debate over
whether federally sponsored research politicizes procedures of the
research process. .Eiggg, the debate over the possibility of
value-free research has largely subsided and most researchers
acknowledge that values do penetrate the research process at some
point. But most feel that research results themselves are not
biased or distorted by this penetration. The belief that researchers
freely choose their own problematic, select an appropriate research
strategy (method, theory, and data source), and interpret the data
in an "objective" fashion, still prevails. But Galliher and
MCCartney (1973: 78) cite three trends in delinquency research
which challenge this belief: a) Sponsored research is cast in an
aura of qualitative science (a finding supported by Useem, l976c).

b) Sociological specialities that coincide with missions of existing
agencies are more likely to be supported than those specialties which
have no corresponding agencies; and c) Scholars who are able to view
problems and data from the same perspective as the grantors are most
likely to receive funding. The question, of course, is whether
federal sponsorship actually determines these trends, or whether it
merely accentuates, benefits from, or reflects trends which already

exist within the social sciences.

186

Second, theoretically, sponsored research may affect how
researchers "think." By suggesting how questions are asked and how
answers may be provided, federal sponsorship could, while maintain-
ing the belief in free and unconstrained research, nonetheless
promote an assumptive framework and shape world views of researchers.
This, as W. Miller (1973: 142) has reminded us, promotes an imagery of
the "proper state of things," especially the moral order and political
arrangements implicit in how we organize and interpret our research
findings.

The effects of these theoretical and methodological bases of
sponsored research may contribute to forms or strategies of social
control by generating (or prohibiting) questions and forms of
answers which have several explicit or implicit policy implications.
First, research may be intended to provide information to meet
explicit policy needs of an agency or program. 'Second, by encouraging
particular modes of addressing a topic, other modes may be excluded.
Indirectly, then, the political influence of sponsored research may.
contribute to social problems by actually closing-off particular
ways of examining the social world through selective encouragement
of topics, questions, and methodologies (Schulman, Brown, and Kahn,
1972). Further, federal sponsorship may reinforce a particular
organizational form of the social science profession. According to
this view, the social sciences depend upon institutional largess
for their continued existence, and this dependence encourages a
certain "servility." Nicolaus (1972: 57) describes the relationship

more graphically by comparing sociologists in a fluctuating economy

187

to frogs in a drying pond: As the pool of available resources
shrinks, the frogs within hop frantically to the center, since none
wants to perish on the edges. This not only perpetuates the prevail-
ing structure of the discipline, but also discourages "marginal"
theoretical and methodological perspectives likely to be politically
controversial.

These issues are interrelated and separated here for analytic
convenience only, and they relate to funded and unfunded research
alike. The intent of this section is to select one single issue,
methodology, and examine:. (a) whether the methodology of social
research appears to have become politicized by the impact of federal
sponsorship, and (b) some of the implications of the findings for
social science research. An understanding of the methodological
implications of funded research are the initial step towards an
understanding of the ideological and political implications of social
science research, which will be discussed in Section g.of this
chapter.

G

Politicization of research refers either to (a) the penetration

 

and intervention of the interests of a specific federal agency such
that the thematic or procedural operations of research conform to, or
are shaped by, those interests, or to (b) a procedure that produces
unanticipated or unrecognized political results. The objective here
is not to "prove" or "document" an intention of researchers or of
agency personnel to influence research. Since part of the task of

this project includes the examination of nonfunded studies, it should

188

be possible to provide at least suggestive indications to the location
or direction of research influences, independently of intent.

The three general views regarding politicization of social science
outlined in Chapter 2 generate several research questions. 'Eiggg is

the view that social science is an unpoliticized, disinterested,

 

autonomous activity, a moral enterprise, a "communal and egalitarian"
project or knowledge for its own sake designed to meet specific hgmgg
needs and enlighten, and thereby emancipate, social members. If this
view is correct, one would expect to find: (a) a diversity of research
themes and procedures in published research derived from.the diversity
of human needs; (b) a concentration of research oriented towards
questions of "human need" or social emancipation, deriving from the
need to resolve contemporary social problems or social issues; (c)

a number of articles critical of the status quo and challenging

 

"nonmoral" social structures or policies restricting "social emancipa-

tion;' and (d) no significant difference between the characteristics
and procedures of funded and nonfunded research.

Second is the view that knowledge has become politicized and that
this politicization directly expresses elite (e.g., Useem, 1978) or
class (e.g., D. Smith, 1974) hegemony; or reflects state activity as
a mediating factor between contradictory and disruptive forces within
the capitalist economic sector (e.g., O'Connor, 1974; Habermas, 1975;
Baran and Sweezy, 1968; Miliband, 1969). According to this position,
sponsored research is directed by one or more of three forces:

(a) the ruling class, (b) the incumbents of positions of power, or

(c) an "organizational logic" guided by the principles required for

successful capital accumulation. Knowledge is produced as an instrument

189

to insure a smoothly functioning economy and to attain the goals and
to perpetuate the interests of specific groups or to meet the
requisites of system maintenance. Although some research may deviate,
adherents of this position view the overwhelming body of research

as falling within unspecified, yet definite, normative limits. If
this view is correct, one should find: (a) a narrow range of research
topics and procedures that (b) ask questions and provide answers that
are limited primarily to the interests of a class or which meet
systematic operational requisites, and (c) do not challenge the

status quo; and (d) sponsored research should be more consistent with
"class interests" or "capitalist organizational principles" than
nonfunded, or at least differ significantly, both thematically and
procedurally, since federal funding becomes, in effect, an independent
variable in shaping research.

Finally, there is the view that nearly all knowledge production
is politicized, but this politicization is determined by neither the
economic form of society nor by specific groups, regimes, or ideologies.
Adherents to this position submit the politicization occurs within the
scientific process itself (e.g., Salomon, 1973), or derives from.the
extrinsic social and cultural values of scientists in that their roles,
loyalties and world views intrude into the evaluation and control
processes of science (e.g., Blume, 1974; Mannheim, 1938). If this
view is correct, the social factors which influence sponsored research
do not derive from the funding process, but from.the very structure

of the research process. If this view is correct, one should find

 

(a) thematic and methodological pluralism resulting from the divers

190

roles and perspectives of practitioners in both funded and nonfunded
research; (b) no significant difference between funded and nonfunded
research, since funding is rejected as an "independent variable," and

(c) at least some studies should be critical of the status quo, critical

 

of other studies, or oriented towards critique of other problematics.

These three positions are reasonably exhaustive and mutually
exclusive, and provide a departure point for the examination of
whether or not federal funding may intervene in the knowledge produc-
tion process in such a way as to shape the research procedures,
categories, perceptual, interpretive and processing apparatuses, or
the outcomes of research.

Policing studies dramatically reflect a series of ideas about the
state and social control, about beliefs, attitudes and values, and
also about practical solutions to general problems which reflect one
of the three sources of politicization. Thus a researcher's methodology
may be used to identify both background and domain assumptions of
research. The statements of a research problem and selection of
procedures such as data source, research variables, problematic and
the organization and interpretation of data, and primary characteristics
of methodology are not automatic activities, but involve choice by the
researcher. The task here to examine federal funding as one possible
social factor which may influence choice. A clarification of the
relationship between funding and methodology is an initial step which
should facilitate an understanding of the ideological and political
issues involved in funded research and should also help us assess

which, if any, of the three views of politicization seem.most adequate

191

in contributing to an understanding of issues raided by this relation-

ship.
RESULTS

The data were examined for two features in particular. First
was for development of identifiable trends over the 18-year period
for which journals were examined. Second was for any significant
differences (established as ten percent in categories of ten §_or more)
between funded and nonfunded categories. The breakdown by three-
year periods was convenient as a presentational strategy. The results
do not appear to be a product of the tables as a presentational
artifact, and the three-year results are consistent within one and
two year chronological divisions.

Four categories particularly useful in analyzing the methodological
procedures underlying social research are l) paradigm, 2) data
manipulation, 3) theoretical perspective, and 4) problematic.

l. Paradigm. The concept of paradigm in sociology is often
vague, and critics have argued which, or even whether, dominant
paradigms exist in the social sciences. The concept is nonetheless
useful. Discussions of various paradigms underlying social science
include Ritzer (1975, 1976), Truman (1965), Bryant (1965), Fallding
(1975), and Dawe (1971). Although the term has been defined in
various ways (e.g., Useem, 1976: 146-7; Kuhn, 1970, Masterman, 1970),
Ritzer's (1975: 157) is the most useful. He defines a paradigm as:

. . .a fundamental image of the subject matter within a science.

It serves to define what should be studied, what questions

should be asked, and how they should be asked, and what rules
should be followed in interpreting the answer obtained. The

192

paradigm is the broadest unit of concensus within a science and
serves to differentiate one scientific community or subcommunity
from another. It subsumes, defines, interrelates the exemplars,
theories, methods and instruments that exist within it.
As Alford (1975: 145) has argued, the concept allows us to avoid the
interfaces of logical adherence and deductive consistency which the
terms "theory" or "model" convey, yet provides a sense of the episte-
mological structure which guides inquiry by allowing for an identifi-
cation of the background assumptions and ontological presuppositions
underlying research. While an analysis of theoretical approaches
allows for an analysis of specific approaches within paradigms, an
analysis of the paradigm allows for a classification instrument that
subsumes competing theories, yet retains the basic epistemological
features common to competing theories. Although these issues will
not be addressed in this essay, analysis of paradigms provides
insights into issues including the problem of subject-object, fact-
value, and theory-praxis, each of which takes on a specific character,
depending upon the paradigm employed. Adapting Ritzer's classifica-
tion system, five distinct paradigmatic categories were defined:
(1) Social Factist, in which analysis focuses on objects as existing
independently from the perceiving subject, and in social sciences
poses as the primary problematic such concepts as norms, values or
roles, and in sociological theory is typically represented by, for
example, positivist, systems, or conflict perspectives; (2) Social
Constructionist, which addresses the subjective reconstruction of
the social world by the subject through interpretation, negotiation,

or meaning acquisition activity, and is typically represented by

qualitative interactionist approaches (e.g., dramaturgical analysis,

193

ethnodmethodology, or phenomenology), and Weberian-oriented analysis;
and (3) Marxian models, which emphasize features such as class struggle,
historical-dialectical development, or production relations as the

most significant problematic for analysis. Two additional paradigms,

Critical Theory and Behavioral Models were unrepresented in this

 

 

study, and will not be discussed.

The most striking finding in analysis of paradigmatic data
(summarized in Table 2) is that there is relatively little difference
in the number of social factist paradigms between funded and nonfunded
categories. Although both funded and nonfunded research is grounded
overwhelmingly in the social factist paradigm, it was expected that
this paradigm would appear more frequently in funded studies because
of federal agencies' alleged penchant for it. It is also reasonable
to expect more social facts paradigms in funded than in nonfunded
studies, and more social facts paradigms overall. There should also
be fewer alternative paradigms among funded studies because of their
so-called "radical" potential (e.g., Gouldner, 1968b), and because
of the alleged need for applied studies that are more consistent with
a natural science model (i.e., a social-factist approach) than are

the other paradigms.
(Insert Table 2 About Here)

A second finding is that 98 percent of the articles citing
funding were grounded in some identifiable paradigm, compared with
88 percent of nonfunded studies. Because occurrence of a specific

paradigm was assumed to indicate more methodological rigor than

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and o AS a AC o 2v A A8 0 g A CV o . 9:

a c N o N o n o on o “N a NN c “N uaoz
3v 5 3V 8 A3 a o o o o o o o o “ E

N N . N N o a o o o o o o c o “N «NBNNNNNaouaaoz
an o “No a o o o o o o. o o o o .sz

N o a o o o o o o .o o o o o .N Hanna:
33 3v 5 a 3 o 5 “NV 3 .3 o 3, o o “393838388

N 2 S N N o S S S 3 o 3 o o 3 N38...
AaNNVAaNV ions iNHc issv. inns “Nos ANV Ase Ass Ass “as “No Nae. “lac
T 3 3 3 3 2: 2 mm 8 8 ...N 8 NN 2: "N 38m 138
Ja N Si N a. M Na N 3 N a. N .2: N sawing
NNaaaosoN NNaN-NNaN stNuNNaN HNmNnmoaN wooNusoaN nomannsaa NsaaucomN uao»

QHQUOH

 

C553 5333

”N .Nsaa

.hnmalooma Joan—5m mafia—"Hon

Gov vovgusoa 28 CV conga now .8 nope—E one A5 onus—Noon: .33qu usuanoouno an 23332— wo cowusnwuuoan

194

articles lacking an identifiable paradigm, this suggests that funded

research likely increases the appearance of methodological rigor.

 

This does not, of course, mean that funded studies are of higher

quality, or more 'correct, or even that they are, in fact, more
rigorous. It only suggests that the chances of obtaining funding

may be perceived by researchers to be greater if the methodology

gives the appearance of methodological rigor.

Third, the lack of significant difference in occurrence between
funded and nonfunded research challenges the view that funded
research leads to overrepresentation of the social factist paradigm.
This suggests a possible normative influence external to the funding
process which influences the acceptance of social factist paradigms.
For if influence occurs through the funding process rather than by
some external process, there should be either a significantly higher
percentage of funded than nonfunded social-factist studies, or non-
funded social-factist paradigms would also be expected to vary as a
function of the variations in funding allocations, especially in the
increasingly-funded years of 1969-77. This is because, judging from
the literature reviewed in Chapter 2, government funding is considered
by many observers to be an independent variable of sorts in researcher's
choice of paradigm (e.g., Useem, 1976a). The underlying assumption
of this literature is that without federal influence, there would be
fewer social factist studies. Further, if federal sponsorship sets
the trend for gll_research, the nonfunded research should reflect

(e.g., co-vary-with) trends in funded research. Such, however, is not

the case. Not only is there no paradigmatic plurality over the 18

195

year period, but the social factist paradigm has remained dominant
throughout.

The marginally greater percentage of social factist paradigms in
funded over nonfunded research may be a function of the significantly
greater difference in nonfunded social research which proceeds from
no identifiable paradigm in that the epistemological assumptions of
these nonparadigmatic studies were, in most cases, identical to the
social facts paradigm, even though the studies were not classifiable
in accordance with the definition employed for classification,

Fourth, despite the development of alternative paradigms in
the last decade, there has been no significant shift in either funded
or nonfunded policing research, although funded research has a more
than three-to-two ratio over nonfunded studies grounded in a social
constructionist paradigm, suggesting that funding may not discourage
employment of alternative paradigms and, in fact, may encourage them.
One possible explanation for this (which will be developed further in
Section C) may be as Lipset and others have suggested, that so-called
alternative paradigms are not necessarily inconsistent with ideologies
allegedly favored by federal agencies.

Finally, there is a conspicuous absence of Marxian and critical
paradigm usage which contributes to the conservative image of federal
agencies and the research they sponsor. Whether this absence reflects
exclusion by funders or avoidance of funding opportunities by Marxian
and critical researchers is difficult to determdne. It may also be
possible that researchers adopting these perspectives are less likely

to study police.

196

In sum, there seems to be no apparent impact of federal funding
upon research paradigms. The data from Tablghg_suggest that the social
factist paradigm is dominant in both categories of research, and if
anything, funding may encourage research from alternative paradigms.

It seems safe to conclude, at least tentatively, that federal funding
may not be a primary shaper or determinant of paradigm choice.

2. Data Manipulation. The dominant mode of processing data

 

in the studies examined was statistical manipulation,* as summarized
in 23213 g. The so-called "aura of science" associated with statis-
tical manipulation is often assumed to be favored by funding agencies.
From the data it would appear that this may not always be the case,
since there is little difference between the percentage of funded

and nonfunded studies employing some statistical technique. This
suggests that the belief that funding agencies are committed to a
quantitative numbers game may require reassessment, and that the

opposite may, in fact, be the case.

(Insert Table §_About Here)

Further, a scant one percent of nonfunded studies contained any
historical discussion whatsoever, and no funded studies did. Data
manipulation consistently reflected static, a historical interpretion.
In sum, funding seems to reflect existing preferences for data
manipulation of the research community rather than a particular form

favored by funding agencies.

 

*Statistical manipulation refers to the adoption of either
descriptive or inferential statistical techniques, or to simple
quantitative juxtaposition of data.

.Nood uo>o No nousucoouoa dauou

ed chudsouu .soduodsadcal case No luau was seen one: can: sedans. clones
.ueouuoa odes: unease: as nausea: vovcsou noueuoouuuma

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

aodv acv acv o an a adv o adv o adv n adv adv Nazv

N N N N N N A N N Nd N . Nd NN dd NNd “N use:

aNdv an an an an an N N N N adv N adv N Nazv

N N N Nd N Nd N N N N Nd N dd N .N NoNNc

aNNv an aov an acdv an acv o an o acv an aav c .azv

NN Nd Nd Nd Nd Nd NN N on N on NN NN N .N Nan-n dNNNNoN

adv N adv N N N N N N N N N N N .azv

d N N N N N N N N N N N N N .N cadxuux

adv N an N adv N N N. N N N N N N Nazv cadNaNoNNNoNad

d N N N N N N N N N N N N N .N dauduouodN

aav aav aqv adv an adv a an adv an c adv o . a Nazv

N Nd N a N N N NN Nd NN. N Nd N . N ”N uNNNNNNoNNNN

aNNv aoNv amev aodv aNNv an aNdv adv an an an acv o o Nazv

NN an NN dN NN NN Na NN NN NN NN N. N N .N dnuduaduaum
noddedaadeax cyan
_ No useds5909

N: N N: N ANN N N: N N: N N: N Na . N

NNNdINNNd NNNduNNNd NaNduNaNd dNNduNNNd NNNanNNd NNNduNNNd NNNduooNd one»

338. .

 

.NaNduooNd ..odNNN. uadoddoa aNav NoNNNNNNN Na. an NoNNNN NoN
ec.aav deans: use «an oucuooouoa .ovoduoa uuohuoounu ha noswdcaoON ooduummudeez can: no sodu94duu¢dn

 

 

197

3. Theogy. Given the overwhelming predominance of the social-
factist paradigm, it is not surprising that the date in Iablg_§_
reveal the use of positivist/nomological-deductive meta-theoretical'.
perspectives, as a conception of explanation in both categories of
research. But contrary to the expectation that researchers ground
their inquiry within this perspective in order to tailor their
discourse to the perceived needs of the sponsoring agency (which
implies that this perspective is not the normal perspective), funded
research reflects this theoretical perspective nearly 10 percent
lg§§_than funded research. In addition, although the positivist]
nomological-deductive perspective is the dominant perspective, it
represents for funded studies less than one-half the total, with
qualitative interactionist studies reflecting about a quarter of
the theoretical perspectives. By contrast, nonfunded research
proceeded from this perspective in over 50 percent of the articles.
Interestingly, while virtually all_funded research was informed by
some_theoretical framework, 16 percent of nonfunded inquiry was

uninformed by any coherent or explicit theory.
(Insert Table £_About Here)

The greater theoretical diversity among funded studies suggests
that federal funding may, in fact, allow rather than discourage
theoretical pluralism, while the lack of such diversity among non-
funded studies may reflect reliance on existing normative models.
There are no obvious trends between 1960-77, and there is certainly

no indication that use of the positivist model has increased as a

.unuouoa edoaa accuses ou accuses soon coin sensuououome

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

aNNv adv an adv adv adv adv “azv

Nd N N N Nd N Nd N .Nd N NN N Na N “N unoz
aNdv adv an an adv adv adv adv adv ”azv

Nd N Nd dd, dd N N N N N N Nd dd NNd "N NoNNN
an adv . adv adv adv adv adv an adv £33335
N N N a N dN N N Nd N NN N dd N ”N \dNNNNNNNNN
adv adv "azv

d N. d N N N N N N N N N N N "N addxdd:
adv N adv "azv .

d N N N N N N N N N N N N N “ «Nausea.
adv adv ”azv

d N N N N N N N N N N N N N ”N NoddNaoN
aNdv addv aNdv adv aav adv adv adv adv adv “azv .

Nd NN Nd dN dd Nd N N Nd NN N Nd N N ”N Nadaodduododud
adv an an adv an adv an adv "azv duodNodoNo
N dd d N N N N NN Nd Nd N Nd N N ”N .aauuddddaduaodudxu
aNNv aNNv aNdv an aNNv adv aNdv adv adv an an an ”azv upduuadud.duudNodo
dN dd Nd NN NN dd Na dd Nd Nd NN NN N N “N [soadadd>ddddod
NN N N: N N: N Na N N: N Na N Na N
NadduNNNd aaddudadd dNNd-NNNd daddudddd Ndddudodd NNNd-dNNd NNNduoddd duo»

odouoa

.NaNdnoNNd £33: NaduddoN aNnv NNNENNS N8 an BEEN NoN
adv nodes: can cauv umsuaoouon .NVONNoe usualoodnu an oo>duooenuom doOduouoonH no sadusoduundn

 

ooddsndNNNdn mucosa dd odpua

198

response to increased funding. The contention, then, that fund-

ing generates a reliance on positivist modes (Galliher and MtCartney,
1973; Useem, l976a) should be reexamined. Parenthetically, the claim
heard so often in the 1960's and early 1970's that functionalism

was the dominant paradigm for the social sciences throughout the
1960's, is, for policing research at least, totally unfounded; only
six percent of the combined research during this period reflected

the functionalist position.

4. Problematic. Problematic refers to the focal point of
analysis. It is the general problem around which inquiry is organized.
This category seems more useful than either "topic" or "variable,"
both of which are too narrow. A topic could be, for example, "ethnic

' and dependent variable could be "arrest rates" or

injustice,‘
"reports of policy brutality." The concept of problematic, on the
other hand, is the focal point of research and allows for the manage-
ment of an otherwise unruly number of separate, and otherwise
dissimilar, topics or variables by subsuming them.within a single
category that captures the essential features of similarity between
them.

Given the "crime-crisis" atmosphere of the late 1960's, and the
subsequent cornucopia of funds available for social research, it was
expected that research problematics would reflect the critical social
issues of crime, violence, civil rights, or other salient “crises"
which served as the justification for Presidential commissions,

research agencies (such as NILFCJ or the Ford Foundation sponsored

Police Foundation) and research projects. If problematics are

199

determined by agency needs, it would be expected that funded research
would be clustered around a small number of issues directly bearing
on the mission of funding agencies (particularly LEAA), and that
nonfunded research would reflect a reasonably wide range of issues
more-or-less less evenly, with less emphasis on applied and more on
knowledge-building research than funded. These expectations were

unfulfilled.
(Insert Tables §_and §_About Here)

giggg, the data from Tables 2 and §_do not reflect any of the
major social crises of the 1960's, or early 1970's. The relationship
of police and policing to problematic issues of the Vietnam.War,
civil rights, student activism, social movements, poverty and even
crime itself are underrepresented in both funded and nonfunded
research. Roughly one-third of both categories of research addressed
some aspect of police/community relations, and 17 percent of funded
(and only one percent of nonfunded) research addressed the problem
of offenders. Although issues of policy, strategy and tactics for
crime control were occasionally addressed as technical studies in
nonsocial studies (e.g., "utility of two-way radios in beat patrol"),
these were not common within social research. This suggests that,
despite the possibility that knowledge production expenditures and
funding activity and policies may themselves be prompted by a partic-
ular social crises, it may not be the case that this in turn leads

directly or necessarily to the successful penetration of the priorities

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

adv adv adv N N N N N N N. N adv N N NoNNN
nodueowu

NaduddoN NdNNda
adv adv adv an adv N N N N N N adv N N nodded No NNNNNN
. ddaoddo
addv adv addv an addv .adv addv N adv an adv N adv N aduoddaddd udddsd
.an an adv adv adv adv N N N adv N an N N NNNNNNNNN
aav adv adv an adv adv N N adv N adv adv adv. N doaddd NoddoN
addv an adv adv adv adv adv. N adv adv adv an adv adv .3232 added
addv adv addv adv aNdv. adv. adv adv adv an adv an adv N added N.
moduoduouuuuosu

a:oo addoouz

hand one: .suouuod

ooddoa so: .xuos uo

. 7 ooduuduouuouono ..w.uv
addv addv adv adv adv an N N N an N adv adv N dud: modded
. saquUHaoum

NNNduNde. aNNanNNd dNNanaNd dadduNde Ndddudddd Ndendde NddduNde duo»
Ndduoa . . .

.NNNande ..oddsud NadoddoN aNav NoduuNuou Nun an doddsN Nd Nadduoddn dududaaddoud No Nodaaz

noose: Hausa noduulodaoum

 

"N.oddga

.huououeu Nana adnuda .advauo udduddon mo woolen on» no showcase
duoduodoaowao awed ad ooduuaUdnoua «0 Hanson deuou wadvd>dv do wouod50doo on: unannouuom
.adquUdaoua one aqua once vouooduou ndauuson «son cosmos; unsound cad nodule Ndeuoace

.uouuuoa odes: amended on tenancy soon o>un someuoouuome

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

N N N N N N N N N N N Nd N N NuNNN
caduceus
NadoddoN Ndddd:
N N N dd d N N N N N N Nd N N dodaud no odaddu
. ddaoddo
Nd Nd dN dd NN dd NN N Nd Nd dd N dd N Ndaoddddod udddad
d Nd . N N N dd N N N NN N NN N N NNNNNNNNN
d d d dd N N N N Nd . N dd Nd dd N dosddd daddod
dd Nd Nd dN Nd N Nd N Nd NN NN NN Nd .NN: duduaddd «added
modded No
Nd NN NN N NN dN Nd dd Nd Nd Nd NN dd N dudddduodududdu
Aouov hHfidfiu: N
menu Nona .suouuoa
ooddom to: .JNOB no
uuduoduouuodoau ..m.uv
N Nd d NN Nd Nd N Nd N NN N Nd dd N duos modded
oduuaudooum
NNNduNddd NNNduNNNd deduNNNd dedadde Ndddudddd Ndddudddd Nddande duo»
sdeuoH

 

 

u ouauouua ouduuaodnoum

do wanna

«c.a~|oomd .aodvsuu maduddon
auov veoosuoos one amv vacuum ed sodas-edaoun uodaoduuoa unduooduou odeouaon mo «nauseouuom

200

of federal agencies into the selection process of objects for social
analysis.

Second, the data do not describe a pattern which indicates
pluralism among problematics. Nearly half of the nonfunded articles
were clustered around the problematic of police characteristics,
two-and-a-half times more than funded studies. Approximately one-
fourth of funded research focused on policy work (e.g., characteristics
of police work, what police "actually do"), followed by characteristics
of police personnel and the nature of police organizational structure.
Despite the 39 percent cluster of funded studies around public
relations issues, funded research appears to be distributed far more
evenly than nonfunded. Judging from the data, it would appear that
it may be premature to conclude that funding of police studies
necessarily generates social research clustered around a few specific
agency-defined problems or topics aimed at state-mediation of social
conflict. This suggests that federally funded research has not led
to the dominance of a particular set of questions of funding agencies
or channelled the focus, especially of funded, but also of nonfunded,
research to address primarily those problems which are consistent
with a narrowly specified mission of a particular funding agency.

Thigd, the overwhelming abundance of seemingly benign topics
and the scant percentage of studies focusing on policing policies
or strategies for social control by either category of research
suggests that funding is not as directly instrumental in maintaining
the status quo or establishing power and domination as sometimes
suggested by critics cited in Chapter 2. 0n the other hand, the

lack of apparent knowledge-building around crucial issues of police

201

strategy and policy suggests that funded research may not be as
efficacious as assumed in providing useful information (or if a
subjective observation be permitted, any relevant information at all).
As White and Krislov (1977) have cogently argued, the primary
assumption of the creation of LEAA and NILECJ was that the "crime
war" could be "won" if sufficient resources were committed, and
knowledge production was seen as one of the critical weapons in
this war. Judging from the data, at the level of social knowledge
production at least, commitment and expenditure do not necessarily
produce the intended results. Whatever the ideological implications
of policing research, it is clear that funded research has not led
to a surge of policing studies which would appear to either dangerously
threaten civil liberties or suppress social or individual behavior.*
Nor has it led to studies which provide particularly innovative or
profound insights or analytic expansion of the relationship between
policing and society, as judged by the research questions chosen and
results obtained (see, e.g., White and Krislov, 1977).

Fourth, and perhaps most important, it is not what actually has
been studied by social scientists that is significant, but rather

what has not been examined. While the data do not demonstrate an

 

obvious intrusion of either federal or social control values into

the research process, neither do they indicate an abundance of

 

*The same has not been true for other areas such as penal control
and especially domestic political surveillance and related forms of
social control, which have been criticized as being both a threat to
civil rights and often illegal.

202

criticism of present day policing studies. For example, studies of
the relationship between agencies of social control and the suppres-
sion of problems are nonexistent, as are issues of police corruption,
police surveillance, and other topics that might focus on police
themselves as a social problem. There is a startling paucity of
critical, or even moderately reformist research inquiring into the
role of police, not only as the only dominant agent of force in U.S.
society, but also into problems which police themselves may create,
or even into the possibility that the police mandate or the police
themselves may be problematic. A certain "common sense" view may
suggest why funded studies ignore such issues (the bone-proferring
hand is not often bitten, although this, too, may be an unwarranted
assumption), but it does not explain why nonfunded studies should
ignore such issues. Neither does it explain why nonfunded studies
would seem, in fact, to be more consistent with the needs of police

and funding agencies than do funded studies.
CONCLUSION

Although the dramatic nature of the relationship between social
science and federal funding may be exaggerated by the relatively few
researchers who are awarded enormous sums to conduct agency-specified
problems, or who may, in fact, as Useem (l976a) has suggested, tailor
their studies to fit the agency, a content analysis of five major
journals does not support the contention that funding affects research
procedures in policing social research. There is no evidence to

support the hypotheses that funded research (a) encourages recipients

203

to adopt a positivist approach, (b) influences recipients to choose
narrowly defined problematics to fit policy needs of agencies,

(c) leads to an increasing use of statistical data manipulation,

or (d) threatens the independence of social research at the technical
level because of accepting “official" categories of discourse.

The predominant features of 2252 funded and nonfunded categories
of research included (a) objectivistic, theoretical and methodological
procedures which seek to reproduce passive conceptions of a social
reality that occurs independently of any activity of the knower;

(b) a reductionist view of the social world that assumes that the
relationship between policing activity and society can be known in
accordance with "traditional science" Or it cannot be known at all;
(c) a-historical research that fails to develop the historical
interconnections between features of social reality as a product of
human activity; and (d) an uncritical acceptance of common sense
definitions of authority, police, control, attitudes, or for that
matter, "research" and "knowledge." If the data here are representa-
tive, funded and nonfunded research differ very little, and if there
is a danger in federal sponsorship, it is not located in federal
support of the scientific process, but in the normative characteristics
of researchers who accept such support.

It must be emphasized that even should additional evidence
consistently support the claim.that federal funding has no substantial
direct impact on politicizing methodological issues in social research,
or that funding does not itself politicize either funded research or
research in general, this in no way suggests that funded research is

"impartial," nonideological, or pluralistic. It merely suggests

204

that funding is not a decisive independent variable, and that the
partiality and ideological issues may be understood by examining the
socio-political relations which occur outside of the funding process.

The data, in fact, indicate that research i§_politicized, by

 

whatever source, in that certain tapics, questions, and modes of
analysis are systematically excluded from bg£h_funded and nonfunded
research alike. In fact, the two categories are alike enough to be
examined as a single category.

What is at stake, then, is the location of the source of such
politicization. First, the data presented may refute the view that
social science is objective, disinterested activity, because the
studies do not address a multiplicity of "human needs" or social
conflicts. They address instead very narrow topics which, if not
in the "interests" of funding agencies, are certainly not in conflict
with those interests or with dominant political, social or institutional
structures of society. Nor can the dominant practice of social .
science be termed a "moral" enterprise, for not only are moral issues
virtually excluded from research processes in the studies examined,
but the moral issues surrounding features of police, policing and
social control are equally ignored.

Second, although federal funding as an activity may reflect
crises of contemporary capitalism and may be symbolic responses to
these crises, the data do not support the contention that support
leads necessarily to the production of knowledge which is capable,
or even intended, to address those crises. These crises do not, in
fact, appear to be significantly reflected in the research process

itself. It should again be emphasized that this does not mean that

205

traditional modes of inquiry do not function to perpetuate a specific
set of dominant social relations and ideological interpretations.

It merely suggests that such modes are not the direct expression

of a dominant group manipulating research through the activity of
federal funding.

The data seem to support, at least tentatively, the view that
the scientific process itself is politicized, but this politicization
does not come from.funding activity. It may be suggested that this'
extrinsic source is normative in that it seems to derive from the
perspective of the researcher rather than from imposed criteria, which
introduces research characteristics derived from.world views,
ontological presuppositions and ideological justifications. This
does not mean, as Salomon (1973) has argued, that the economic form
of society or specific groups or reigning ideologies are not con-
stituent features of the politicization process, for this assumption
remains to be demonstrated. It suggests, rather, the next step of

demonstrating the ideological implications of traditional social

 

 

research, and of identifying the social origins of operant ideol-
ogies.

Section II: Ideology and Funding

The first ideological level is that of overt political content
reflected in policing research. This includes topic, problematic,
direction taken towards police, and explicit political orientation
and stance toward established social order. The ideology derived
from the practitioner influences not only research procedures, but

discourse as well. Because funded research is judged to affect the

206

ideology of the practitioner by encouraging adherence to agency
mission and needs, we would expect the ideology of funded to differ
from nonfunded research in the direction of a) increased conservatism
(e.g., supportive of police), b) lack of procedural, thematic, or
conceptual innovation and c) consistency with agency purpose.

The data previously summarized in Tables 5 and 6 suggested that
the problematic of policing research differs little between funded
and nonfunded research. Although this does not necessarily mean
that there are no ideological differences between funded and non-
funded research which affects selection of problematic, it does
suggest that even should ideological differences occur, they do not
seem to directly penetrate the selection process. The differences
in ideological content may be further examined by focusing on four
additional salient features of policing research: a) general purpose,
b) view of police mandate, c) direction towards police, and d)
relationship of research to existing social relations.

A. General Purpose. The purpose is the ostensible intent for
which the research was conducted. Sometimes the purpose is explicitly
stated by the researcher, but most often purpose must be inferred
from the direction of the discussion or from.the organization of
the data. Classification of a purpose is not difficult if classifica-
tion is not limited to only one purpose for a single article, which
prevents possible arbitrary classification when two or more purposes
are intended.

If funded research encourages researchers to shape research

procedures according to the needs of the funding agency, then three

207

expectations should be fulfilled. Eiggg, there should be significant
difference between purposes of funded and nonfunded research, with
funded research tending to be oriented more towards technical or
policy research, and less towards critique, theory generation and
category and typology building. Second, in all research there should
be a dominant (arbitrarily defined as two-thirds) ratio of fact-
finding, hypothesis-testing oriented research over other types.
Judging from the results of other studies (e.g., Useem, l976a,
Galliher and McCartney, 1973), the federal government encourages
"hard" data fact-finding, or other forms of research that may be
readily applied to agency needs. This suggests that funded research
more than nonfunded research will reflect this in the purpose of

the research. Finally, one would expect a significant difference
between policy-oriented and instrumental research in the funded and
nonfunded categories. Conventional theorists (e.g., Useem, Baritz,
McCartney) Critical Theorists (e.g., Habermas, 1972a, 1972b, 1974,
1975; Schroyer, 1975) and Marxian political economists (e.g., Baran
and Sweezy, 1968; O'Connor, 1973; Schulman, Brown and Kahn, 1972)
have argued that sponsoring agencies tend to require research results
that are practical, that may be incorporated into policy or serve
agency mandate, of that, at root, provide a potential instrumental
function.

(Add Table 7 About Here)

The data from Table 7 challenge these expectations. First, the
overwhelming majority of sponsored articles reflects some facet of

extension of empirical limits, to include hypothesis testing (74

.auonouao Nana odouda sodvsuo uaduddoa no non-an one no abound-o deoduodooouno
noes ad nonsense uo unease deuou andvd>dv hp vauodsuduo on: ouounoouum

.ooonusn was none «no! vouooduon adoohson neon consume unouuom cod venous udouoaec

.uaouuon odon: accuses oo vaunsou noon o>o£ ouwounoouome

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

N an N N N N N N N N N an N N azv
N d N N N N N N N N N NN N N N Noddo
an adv N adv adv N N N adv N N N N N azv nodddauddN
d N N N . N N N N Nd N N N N N N dduoaoonddddd
. duuouasuuoad
ade an an an adv adv an N adv adv an an adv N azv Nauaaodo>oN
Nd Nd N dd Nd dN. Nd N Nd NN dd NN dd N N daudaduuddduddod
addv adv adv N an an adv N adv adv adv adv adv N azv dudddoNdNN .aNoodN
Nd . N N N dd Nd Nd N Nd NN dd Nd dd N N No NodddudeNNdN
addv an adv adv adv adv N N N N N N an N azv
N d N N d N N N N N N N NN N N Nudoo>d<
an an adv adv an N adv N adv N N adv N N azv Ndddddsd ado
d d N N d N N N Nd N N Nd N N N -doNNN dad dNoNoNNN
wnduooa odoo.
adddv addv aNNv aNdv addv aNdv aNdv adv adv an adv adv adv N azv uNNoNaN .NadNodNNN
NN dN NN dN dd NN NN NNd Nd NNd NN Nd dd N N «NNN NNdNNdNNNudN
an adv adv N adv adv N N N N N N N N azv
d N N N N N N N N N N N N N N daddeNN
addv adv an adv an an N an adv N adv adv N adv azv
N NN dd N d Nd N Nd Nd N dd Nd N NNd N NNooNN NNNNNNNNNN
Na N Na N N: N N: N N: N NN N NN N
NNNduNddd NNddINNdd dNNduNNNd dedudde Ndddudddd Ndendddd Nddd.Nde «Nam»
nduuoa

dd.NNdanddd .Nuddadd NNduddoN aNNv NNNNNNNNN NNd an doNNNN
you .anv access use «auv owuuouuuoa .ovoduon noohloounu ho oodvaum ouddom ad vuuooduuu odomusm dsuonou uo naduaoduuodn

 

nonuaoduunda oooauoa douoeoo

uh edema

 

208

percent). There is, however, no significant divergence from the
purpose of nonfunded articles (72 percent).

A second and somewhat surprising finding indicated that the
frequency of policy-oriented, instrumental studies differed little
between funded (l7 percent) and nonfunded (15 percent). Not only
was the frequency insignificant, the purpose of instrumental and
policy-oriented analysis was (although the data were not tabulated
to precisely indicate this) often a secondary intention.

Third, it was expected that the intention of generating theory
would be relatively ignored among funded studies, and that it would
occur significantly less than among nonfunded articles because of
the alleged emphasis of applied as opposed to basic research among
nonfunded practitioners. The intention of generating theory, however,
occurred three times more often (20 percent, compared with 17 percent
among funded studies, suggesting that contrary to some critics (e.g.,
Nicolaus), funding may not discourage researchers from addressing
theoretical issues.

In the remaining six categories of purpose, there was virtually
no significant difference between the funded and nonfunded research.
The data, then, appear to offer tentative evidence to indicate that
if sponsorship does draw the researcher into alleged agency purpose
of molding research to agency need and purposes, either this effect is
not as direct as is assumed, or the agency purpose does not differ
from the purposes of nonfunded researchers.

B. View of Police. View of police refers to the function or

primary mandate imputed to police by researchers, as reflected in

209

journal articles. The views were divided into three mutually-exclusive
categories: 1) Civil servant/peacekeeping, in which police are viewed

as "of the people,"

serving and responding to basic civil needs as
civil servants responsible to the people of the community; 2) social
control agents in which police are viewed as being "above" society,
responsible for maintaining social order, independent of needs (this
included the view that "order" was a civil need); and 3) "objective"
or "ambiguous," which included those studies which attempted to be
value neutral, as well as those which reflected vague views which
took no stand regarding the role or the mandate of police.

This category attempts to identify what Lasswell (1965: 10-11)
has identified as miranda, things to be admired (as opposed to
credenda, things to be believed). Miranda are symbols of sentiments
and identification, and function to arouse admiration and enthusiasm,
setting forth and strengthening loyalties. "View of police," then,
may reflect a body of sentiments that could possibly influence research,
and it might be expected that funded research, as ostensibly "pro-

police,‘ would reflect pro-police sentiment considerably more than
nonfunded studies. The category is useful for two reasons. First, the
image of police may define what questions are included or excluded from
research. For example, viewingpolice as agencies of social control
challenges the image of institutionalized force service "the people"
democratically and impartially. As a consequence, the sources of police
power, of forms of particularistic legislative coercion which policy may
embody, and of discretionary police practice which may control some

groups or protect particular interests at the expense of others. Second,

the view of police may serve to sustain or subvert both established views

210

of policing, and of ways of studying police. The posited view of a
particular topic reflects a form of ideology in that it submits an
appearance of the topic, such that analysis becomes what Horkheimer
(1978: 187) has called the “analysis of necessary appearance";
questions, problems and solutions become intertwined with an ideo-
logical perspective of what police are and what they do. By examining
the imagery perpetuated in funded and nonfunded articles, it should

be possible to identify differences in ideological views of police,

if any, assumed to exist between recipients of funding and their

nonfunded colleagues.
(Add Table 8 About Here)

Although no conclusive trends emerge, there is little profound
difference between funded and nonfunded views of police. The most
striking feature of the data is the degree to which studies are
"objective" in that they take no predefined view of police social role
or function. Although there is a slight difference between funded
(48 percent) and nonfunded (53 percent) studies proceeding from an
objective stance, the difference is inconclusive. One conclusion from
this may be that under the so-called guise of value-neutrality, the
existing arrangements of policing are left unexamined, and the justifi-
cations of these arrangements are not challenged. The result is the
elimination of whatever critical or innovative research might otherwise
be possible by posing policing organization or activity as problematic.

One might have expected, judging particularly from the perspective

that views state-funded research as a tool for creating appropriate

 

usoswwasd no

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

. QSOH>AO Quoz
aNNv aNNv aNdv an ade an an N adv N an adv adv adv azv ..o.dv
dN Nd dN dd NN Nd Nd N Nd N NN Nd dd NNd N du>dduuddo
an adv adv adv adv N N N adv N adv an N N azv douduoo

N N N . N d N N N Nd N dd NN N N N nodded Naosddda<
. Nad>uod dd>dN
aNdv adv aNdv adv addv adv an N adv adv an Vadv adv N azv Ndudaoa
dN N Nd N NN N NN N Nd Nd NN . Nd dd N N Nsoaddda<
an adv adv an N adv N N adv adv adv an an N azv doNNaNN
d dd N dd N N N N Nd NN dd NN NN N N dodged
aNdv addv . adv adv an adv an adv adv adv an adv adv N azv NNdNNNN uuNNN
Nd dN d N Nd dN Nd NNd Nd Nd NN Nd dd N N NNNN>NNN dd>dN
NNNduNde NNNduNNNd dNNduNNNd dNNande Nde-dde Ndendde NdeuNde “Navy
oduuoa

.NNNande .NodNNNN NaduddoN

 

Auav vovosueoo use Auv vovssw new .Anv pages: was ARV ouousouuoe .wvoduom noohloouau an sudden mm.30d> mo sodusoduuodn

 

OUMHOQ HO 30H>

"N odddd

211

social control mechanisms, that as a result of the social disorders
and heightened police visibility and apparent changing mandate in
dealing with those disorders, that a reasonable hypothesis would be
that there would have been greater focus on police agents of social
control and less on police as civil-servant/peacekeepers. This is
not the case. There is, however, beginning around 1972, a more
consistently "objective" stance in both sponsored and nonsponsored
research. Whether this reflects explicit political ideology or
so-called methodological neutrality is impossible to determine from
this data. .

C. Direction. Direction refers to the practical attitude or
the underlying value orientations of the researcher toward the police.
In content analysis, these are conventionally broken down into
defense, acceptance, or opposition, and correspond to supportive,
objective, and conflict/advocacy categories used in this study.
Unlike the "view of police" category, which classifies and tabulates
the function of police without regard to the underlying value implica-
tions which may be included, direction entails tabulation of the value
orientations of the researcher, and the category also enables
identification of Miranda discussed previously. It was expected that
(l) funded research would tend to reflect the alleged needs, orienta-
tions and ideology of the funders and to be highly supportive of
police, or at least significantly more supportive than nonfunded
studies; (2) nonfunded studies would tend to be objective more
often, and (3) nonfunded research would reflect significantly greater

criticism of, or reformist notions toward, police and policing.

212

(Insert Table 9 About Here)

The data in Table 8 challenge all three expectations. .Eiggg,
although funded research tends to be slightly more supportive of
police than nonfunded (35 percent compared with 30 percent), the
difference is inconclusive, and certainly far less than expected.
Second, although there is some difference between nonfunded and
funded studies reflecting a "value-neutral" stance (66 percent
compared to 57 percent), both categories represent the bulk of the
studies for each category, suggesting that funding may not lead
necessarily to the recipient adopting the view of the funding agency
(assuming, of course, that the view of the funding agencies which
support policing research tend to be supportive, rather than subversive
of police). Also surprising is the finding that neither funded nor
nonfunded research is particularly in conflict with, or opposed to,
police or policing. Particularly surprising, in fact, was the finding
that funded research tended to be twice as prone to criticized or
reformist urges than nonfunded although the low'§;in this category
makes any generalization difficult.

Although it was not an original hypothesis, one curious finding
was the trend prior to and after 1968. Prior to 1968, both funded
and nonfunded tended to lean in the direction of support for police,
but after 1968, this sharply decreased, while the trend in objective
direction increased especially in the years 1972-1977. If the view
held by both the public and by the police of police and policing
activity changed as social conditions required development of new

strategies and presentation of new image of police, it is not

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

aNoddNNoNv
an adv adv an an adv adv adv N N adv N an N azv Nuduo>d<
d N N dd d N N dd N N dd N NN N N INNNNN
aNNdv ade aNNv addv addv aNdv aNdv adv an an an an adv N azv .
dd NN dN NN Nd NN Nd dd NN Nd dd NN dd N N _N>dduoddo
aNdv addv aNdv adv addv an an adv an adv an an adv adv azv
Nd Nd dN N NN Nd Nd dd NN Nd NN NN Nd NNd N N>dNNoNNNN
N: N Na . N N: N N: N N: N N: N N: N
NNNande NNNduNNNd dNNduNNNd dNNd-Nde Ndesdde Nde-dde Nde.Nde
:33. ..

$3.733 hood—3»- unuofi—oo G5 someones: use CV vows-d new
. addv deals: can any cased—sou!— .evo«.d!d Noemi-0.3» an 333035 ooze.” .3269 nodususoduo no sauna—«wood:

00.38 mania 60.3333

 

do Odd—nu.

.,

 

 

 

213

unreasonable to have expected that research trends would conform, at
least modestly, to those changing social features of the 19603. That
is, as the role of police increasingly became challenged by "the
public," these changing attitudes ought to have been reflected in
policing research as well.

Surprisingly, there was no discernible trend in the direction
of reform/conflict (or opposition) between 1960-77, even though
changes in research attitudes towards police might have been expected
as a result of the social conflicts of the late 19608, during which
police were highly visible as a means of social control. If it is
true, as some critics of federal sponsorship suggest, that federally-
sponsored studies tend to support police (as a mechanism of social
control) more than nonsponsored studies, then one would expect that
nonfunded studies would be more likely to be critical of police than
nonfunded. As Table 9 suggests, such is not the case.

D. Status quo.* Finally, one measure of political ideology is

 

the degree to which funded and nonfunded studies differ in their
stance towards existing social relations. At the most fundamental
level, ideology is defined as that set of justifications and images
which account for existing social and political arrangements. Even
(or perhaps especially) "value-free" research may be supportive of
existing arrangements, or may challenge such arrangements. That is,
because a study poses as "objective“ or "neutral," this does not mean

it may not be either supportive or subversive of existing social ordera

 

*A study would be considered a challenge to the status quo if it
challenges the a) mandate of police, b) function, role or strategies
of police support, or in turn which support the police.

214

It was expected that funded research would be far more conserva-
tive than nonfunded research for several reasons. First, according
to capitalist-state and traditional theorists alike, researchers
tend to structure the research project to the perceived needs of
the agency. This implies that funded studies will not be likely to
rock the boat, and that there should be a marked difference in the
discursive, intellectual and ideological tenor between funded and
nonfunded studies. That is, it is reasonable to expect nonfunded
studies to rock the boat more than funded studies. But such an

expectation is not the case.
(Insert Table 10 About Here)

The data reveal virtually no difference between funded and
nonfunded studies. Both are overwhelmingly conservative in that
neither "rocks the boat." While the accusation that funded research
is essentially conservative is supported by the data in Table 10,
there is no support for the correlary that nonfunded research is
lgg§_conservative. Both funded and nonfunded research are essentially-
conservative in that neither pose as problematic the underlying
assumptions, justifications, power structures, or general sets of
social arrangements which underlie policing activity. It is difficult
to conclude that funding encourages servility, since nonfunded research
is as strongly protective of the status quo (if not more so) than
funded research, and equally open to the accusation of servility.

In sum, judging from the data presented here, there is no

conclusive evidence to indicate that funding shapes the political

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

adddv aNdv aNdv addv aNNv aNdv aNNv adv aNdv an an aNdv an adv azv
«a we 3 8d 8.— Na ax: cod cod 2: 8d 8d 8d avavd u oz
adv adv adv N N adv N N N N N N N N azv
d N d o o a 0 av c av av av av o u no»
N: N N: N N.... N N: N N: N NN N NN N .
23:83 NNNHINNNH «3.723 dnadlmood 33333 33:33 «@3183 dado»
:33. .
.NNNande .Naddsuu NadoddoN aNNv doNNNNaoa Nu.
Cv ado—Neda new as nodules was A5 eased—sou!— .nvo.du2_ seamless—Nu ha 63:33.5 .3 25st no coded—Adhesi—

533.38

 

NNd-Nd "Nd oddaa

215

content of research. It would appear that the political content of
social science policing research is not "perniciously" penetrated by
the needs of the funding agency, by the direct requisites of state-
sponsored system-maintenance, or by researchers "on the take." The
content of policing research appears to reflect the dominant ideology
of the social sciences, nothing more, nothing less. Any criticisms
of the ideology funded policing studies, at least as evidenced by

the data presented here, should be extended to the entire field of
social science.

But if the political content of funded and nonfunded policing
research does not significantly differ, it remains to be seen whether
there might not be some other source of ideological penetration that
might help, in part, to understand the ideological similarity between
funded and nonfunded research. That is, by identifying some shared
characteristic at the conceptual or procedural level, it may be at
least somewhat clearer why there are such similarities between funded

and nonfunded research.

216

Chapter 6
Conclusion

 

INTRODUCTION

 

This project has attempted to examine the impact of federal
funding upon policing research by examining the sponsorship of
activity of one government agency, NILECJ, and by juxtaposing with
this examination an analysis of funded and nonfunded policing studies
in six policing journals. Examining federal funding of policing
research within a sociology of knowledge context allowed for an
examination of the potential influence of one particular social factor,
federal funding, on the production of scientific knowledge. It also
allowed for an examination of the possible ideological basis of
knowledge production, the operation of the state as it becomes organ-
ized for the production of scientific knowledge, and the production
of ideological orientations, as embedded in procedures and content
of inquiry, that may shape how the social world is conceptualized and
interpreted.

This study attempted to overcome the subject-object distinction
by viewing knowledge production, not as an epiphenomenon, but rather
as a constituent feature of social life that both mediates and in turn
is mediated by other forms of social organization (e.g., state power
and apparatus, social conflict, societal norms, ideology). It attempted
to avoid both the objectivism of positivism and the subjectivism of
neo-Kantian approaches by viewing knowledge production from the dual

perspective of an outcome (i.e., the content analysis) that embodied

217

and reflected social processes and social thought (i.e., the organi-
zational analysis). This reflects a transcendence of the studies
cited in Chapter 2 by l) pointing to the operation of the state as

a crucial component in the production of scientific knowledge, an
understanding of which should be a sine qua non for a contemporary
sociology of knowledge; 2) identifying selected social relations
underlying the support of one particular form of scientific knowledge;
3) viewing knowledge production not solely as the arduous trek towards
an idealized concept of "truth," but as possibly shaped by concrete
material forces such as researcher ideology, state power, or state
apparatus; and 4) introducing an ideological component into the
analysis of knowledge production that derives from an examination

of the content of the outcomes of research rather than from the
subjective status imputed to the researcher.

Three general conclusions were drawn in this study. 2252;, it-
does not appear that federal funding significantly shapes policing
social research by influencing selection of procedures, theoretical
orientation or by shaping content. Second, the contention by many
observers that state funding produces necessarily conservative
research more so than does nonfunded research appears a precipitous
judgment. Finally, the view that policing research is directly tied
to, or reflects a unilinear expression of state power or a "ruling
class" is untenable. These three conclusions were developed in the
appropriate chapters, but further exploratory discussion will indicate
the significance of these findings and suggest directions for further

research.

218

Even though the lack of significant differences between content
and procedures of funded and nonfunded policing studies do not appear
to be a direct function of the funding process, this does not assure
that so-called "scientific autonomy" prevails. The lack of varied
problematics and critical ideological perspectives suggests that
there may perhaps exist some more fundamental set of social factors,
perhaps at the normative level of the research community, that
systematically circumscribes procedures and content of research, or
leads to what has been described as the "faddist" nature of research
(e.g., Rein, 1976: 25; Oromaner, 1968). The conclusion to be drawn
from this is that there appears to exist in both funded and nonfunded
research epistemological features which lead to an ideological ordering
of research which ultimately shape how problems are viewed, how research
might be applied, and most importantly, what shall be omitted from, or
included in, inquiry. Characteristics of ideology will be examined
at the epistemological level, and particular components of research,
those of paradigm and history, will be discussed.

Funded and nonfunded research share, as evidenced by the data
presented in Chapter 5, two features: 1) Both derive overwhelmingly
from what shall be defined below as "traditionally-bound theory," and
2) both are ahistorical. The paradigmatic and historical components
of inquiry have been selected for examination because both are salient
features of research, and are useful in comparing differences between

inquiry approaches.

219
PARADIGMS

The paradigm is the fundamental conceptual level at which
ideological features penetrate. Locating each paradigm within its
conceptualization of the subject and object of inquiry will allow
for the grounding of the discussion within the three general traditions
that were presented as useful for the sociology of knowledge context
discussed in Chapter 1. Although Ritzer (1975) identifies four
paradigms (social factist, social constructionist, social behaviorist
and Marxian), the subject-object distinction between paradigms reduces
the categories to three by subsuming social behaviorist under the
social-factist position. The intent here is simply to provide a brief
description of the nature of the three paradigms to clarify the sub-
sequent discussion of the relevance of a specific paradigm to ideology,
and how specific paradigms, as mechanisms for ordering cognition and
discourse, reflect "traditional" thought.

1. Social Factist. Social factist approaches view people as

 

controlled by "things," such as norms, values, or social control
agencies, or by biological or other 'natural' determinants. This
position views the program of inquiry as one of compiling facts,
describing, identifying or correlating aspects or characteristics of
either the content of knowledge, the production of knowledge, or of
the products of knowledge themselves. The preferred methodologies
tend to be quantitative indices, construction and employment of
"objective" questionnaires or interviews, and they tend to avoid

observational techniques requiring subjective interpretations, since

220

denial of subjective states as an ingredient of analysis is a primary
feature for this position. The salient features of the social factist
paradigm have been discussed in Chapter 1, and will not be repeated
here. This paradigm maintains the subject-object distinction by
attempting to reproduce in ideas a strictly objective order, an order
independent of the knower, thus leading to a contemplative conception
of knowledge in that it reflects a 'distinterested' conception of
nature and activity that occurs independently of any activity of the
knower.

2. Social Constructionist. The social constructionist paradigm

 

focuses on the processes through which the subject constructs the
social world. It includes studies of the subjective meaning of
behavior (e.g., Verstehen approaches), how persons "make sense" of their
world (e.g., ethnomethodology), how persons actively construct a social
reality to present to others (e.g., dramaturgical analysis), and in
general includes hermeneutics, phenomenology and most interactionist
approaches. The social constructionist view maintains the subject-
object dichotomy, described in Chapter 1, by excluding from analysis
the manner through which persons create the deeper underlying meanings
other than those more or less immediately present. That is, the social
order, structures interaction, and ideological features shaping
interaction, meaning and behavior are excluded. In preserving the
subject of analysis, the object as well as the mediating factors
operating between subject and object are lost.

3. Paradigms and Traditional Theory.. In spite of their differ-

ences, both social factist and social constructionist positions share one

221

important feature: They both are examples of what has been called

traditional theory (e.g., Horkheimer, 1972), in that they both share

 

a conception of the social world in which the knowing subject is
severed from the object. This leads to what Horkheimer (1972: 197)
has criticized as detached science in which

[Science] corresponds to the activity of the scholar which

takes place alongside all the other activities of a society

but in no immediately clear connection with them. In this

view of theory, therefore, the real social function of

science is not made manifest; it speaks not of what theory

means in human life, but only of what it means in the isolated

sphere in which, for historical reasons, it comes into existence.

Traditional theory contains an unrecognized dualism: 0n the
one hand, persons live within a specific form of social organization.
The two primary elements of this organization are culture and economic
relations which are the products of human activity in the present
historical moment. 0n the other hand, this social world, even though

it is a social product, is experienced as existing outside of, or as

 

subject to, nonhuman processes, laws and mechanisms, such as depression,
war, or even language. This latter side of social reality corresponds
to the abstract, reified and unrecognized organizational principles
which guide social activity: This is not the world of human activity,
but as critical theorists and Marxists alike suggest, "the world of
capital." The fatal problem in traditional theory is that it cannot
grasp the subjective element (i.e., social activity) of objective
phenomenon. For social factists, the genesis of "objective facts"
perpetuates an uncritical examination of the pg§i§_of social organiza-

tion, and for social-constructionists, the emphasis on subjective

222

structures or mental states perpetuates the acceptance of unproblem-
atic categories of reasons, of thought, and of concepts, or as
Horkheimer has summarized traditional theory:
In traditional theoretical thinking, the genesis of

particular objective facts, the practical application of

the conceptual systems by which it grasps the facts, and

the role of such systems in action, are all taken to be

external to the theoretical thinking itself (1972: 208).

4. Marxian-Hegelian. The Marxian-Hegelian paradigm attempts

 

to overcome the dualism of subject-object by viewing the social

world as the product of human activity, in which consciousness

(e.g., cognitive orientations, conceptual apparatus, beliefs,
attitudes), and the social world (e.g., institutions, social relations)
are reflections of human self-transformative processes. In this view,
not only the object itself is problematic, but also the relationship
of the object to the conceptual and theoretical apparatus applied to
it, and the relationship of the cOnceptual and theoretical apparatus
to the subject also become problematic. Thus, knowledge is not simply
an independently existing object becoming known by the knower (e.g.,
social factist) or a subject reconstructing.or negotiating social
interaction within social contexts (e.g., social constructionists)
that become problematic. The problematic is rather the relationship
of an object of thought with the material conditions of social
existence that provide the starting point for analysis. The subject-
object dualism is thus overcome (in theory) by reuniting the human
subject with its object of attention (whether in production or in
theory) through the mechanism of praxis (practical human activity)

which forms the bond between the subject and object.

223
PARADIGMS, HISTORICAL ANALYSIS AND POLICING STUDIES

One feature of traditional theoretical approaches which sets
them apart from Marxian-Hegelian approaches is the lack of historical
analysis. The data from.Table 3 indicated that the overwhelmdng
majority of 22 h funded and nonfunded policing studies proceed from
a—historical analysis. It has been argued that there is little
fundamental difference between funded and nonfunded studies. There
is one point in particular to be made from.this: Although the
political perspective of a researcher may guide particular questions,
suggest particular lines of practical activity, or guide the direction
of inquiry and subsequent discussion, there nonetheless remains an
inherent epistemologigal bias with several explicit political

ramifications to which an a-historical foundation contributes. First,

 

regardless of the political perspective or direction towards police,
for example, at the fundamental paradigmatic conceptual level of
traditional theory there remains a one-sidedness emphasizing either
the subject or the object. So-called facts of research are not
examined as having a historical character. A study of police
attitudes towards homosexuals, for example, may proceed through
attitude surveys, measuring "distance" between police and the target
group (a social factist approach), or by describing the perhaps
elaborate social "rituals" in which police may engage to maintain
distance from appearing homosexual through the selection and implemen-
tation of appropriate behaviorial strategies which present a virile
image when confronting gays (e.g., a dramaturgical, social-construc-

tionist approach). But neither approach includes as a necessary

224

component of inquiry the historical development of human sexuality
within a particular historically situated moment of human self-
transformation of social organization. Neither do such studies
integrate the historical character of the perceiving object (e.g.,
the research or the society which provides definitions) within
inquiry. The manner in which concepts of social control, police,
victim, offender, and so forth, themselves, arise out of human
activity and the actual connections between inquiry and human
activity on one hand, and the outcome of inquiry and projected
activity on the other, are eliminated from study.

The epistemological bias, then, refers to the establishment of
social objects or social processes which are views as independent
categories or independently operating processes which exist apart
from and independently of human practical activity, that is, as a
historically-grounded process of transformation of both material
(objective) and conceptual (subjective) world. The result is that
a more or less immutable social world is posited, a social world in
which social organization is not recognized as being mediated by
human self-formative activity. For policing studies this has three
consequences: ggzgp, there is a failure to recognize the historical
character on which accepted, "common sense" categories are based
(e.g., ”crime," "victim," "control"). Although the problematic
nature of concepts of inquiry is bing increasingly questioned by
researchers (e.g., labeling theory, critical theory, negotiated order
theory), this questioning most often remains within the realm of

traditional theory, usually the neo-Kantian perspective, thus

225

glossing over the historically mediated processes of subjects engaged
in self-creation of their social world. The result is that the
connection of police research (or any research, for that matter) is
removed from the context of practical activity, but such connections
return has a hidden agenda in research which subtly shape ideology

of both researchers as well as of those who are informed by such
research. Second, there remains in policing studies an emphasis in_
both social factist and social constructionist approaches, a reliance
on the immediatelngiven experience (e.g., observation, a-historical
documentary analysis, survey techniques), rather than a view of
objects as the outcome of a complex series of mediations. A NILECJ-
sponsored study of political dissent, for example, does not examine
the historically available alternatives for action open to individuals,
groups or movements involved in effecting social change, but rather
relies on questionnaires of labor leaders and student activists,

for example. Thipd, individual phenomenon are abstracted from their
context and not examined within the totality of phenomena to which
all features of the world are connected. The study of political
protest cited in Chapter 4, for example, does not examine the forces
that prevent social change from occurring, or the transformation of
social organization which generates particular types of contradictions
and social conflicts, but remains within static and unreflective
categories. Fourth, there is an inability to examine in a self-
reflective manner, the scientific methodology and the concomitant
political ramifications. Thus, although the project leaders of the

study on political dissent may view their study as "liberal," the

226

inherently conservative ramifications result pp£_from their political
stance, but from the epistemological framework which serves as a
de-facto apologia for the existing social order and the forms of
thought which perpetuate it by excluding from analysis critically
relevant features.

Finally, the practical connections between policing and research
are ignored. Traditional theoretical approaches are inherently
unable to conceptualize the manner in which research may embody a
form of control-oriented practical, intellectual activity that has
been historically generated. The concepts and issues of policing
research, in being viewed as transhistorical (i.e., lying beyond,
or outside of, history) tend to mystify the relationship of police

in society, viewing them as "always there,"

as a necessary ingredient
of society, an assumption made pgipp_to analysis. This perpetuates
what has been called a "false totality" (e.g., Kosik, 1977: 27)
leading to a "fixed superficiality, one-sidedness and immobility" of
facts.

The intent here is not to elaborate the theoretical position
from which this discussion derives, but rather to indicate there
does exist counter-positions, all based on an attempt to overcome
the a-historical view subject-object dichotomy (cf., Lukacs, 1971a;
Kosik, 1976; Sartre, 1963; Habermas, 1972a, 1973; Horkheimer, 1972;
Wellmer, 1974; Schroyer, 1973). The point to be made is that the
prima facie political perspective of policing research is of little

substantive importance because at the most fundamental conceptual

level, the epistemological orientation itself contains explicit

227

political ramifications that function regardless of the political
perspective of an individual researcher, or even the ostensible
liberal or "radical" or reformist intent attached to the research
by the researcher. Unless this is recognized and transcended, the
search for politicization processes within the funding process, or
at the level of researcher bias, or within the social content of
research outcomes may create straw icons which conceal the most
basic point of entry of politicization.

In sum, it does not appear that the funding processes themselves
are the primary source of ideological, substantive, or procedural
influence. Both funded and nonfunded research content, as reflected
in policing studies, reflect an identical feature--that of being
embedded in, and proceeding from, the rules and procedures of
traditional theory. This suggests that the source of politicization
lies much deeper than the funding process. The next question is
where the source is located, and how it operates such that the
normative and practical components of policing inquiry become
interconnected. Although this research project was not designed
to answer this question, it should be possible to conclude by
suggesting further direction for research based on the finding of

Chapter 4 and 5.
DIRECTIONS FOR FURTHER RESEARCH

Several directions appear to be fruitful for further research.
From the historical discussion in Chapter 3, it appears that

sponsored knowledge production is entering a new phase in which

228

social research is becoming increasingly consolidated by government
agencies, even though, in the case of NILECJ, at least, the state

of the field in particular academic disciplines may not be advanced
to the degree that sponsors can adequately develop it. This
consolidation may be necessitated by the need to overcome the

anarchy of the previous mode of knowledge production. As illustrated
in Chapter 3, prior to the last few decades, knowledge production

has been chaotic, and sponsorship has been unsystematic. This has
led to the need to: 1) Maintain a form of "quality control" in social
research. 2) Address specific social problems and to enable sharper .
delineation of them, especially by policy makers in both state and
private economic sectors. 3) Maximize efficiency and economy of
knowledge production, which, unlike most other forms of highly
technical reproduction, remains a highly labor-intensive activity.

In addition, over the past two decades, the U.S. has undergone a
series of social, economic, and political crises which have

disrupted the social order, challenged the legitimacy and authority
of the state, and threatened to interrupt the process of capital
accumulation. For some (e.g., the demand-pull advocates cited in
Chapter 2), knowledge production is a means to meet the problems
caused or exacerbated by these crises, while for others (e.g., some
Marxian theorists), it is limited primarily to producing knowledge
which benefits a "capitalist class." The discussion in Chapters

4 and 5 suggest that both positions are inadequate, but both positions
direct attention to the topics germane to the sociology of knowledge

identified in Chapter 1, which will help refine and elaborate some

229

of the sociological features shaping knowledge production identified
in the organizational and content analyses. ‘Eipgg, a theory of the
state is needed to contribute to an understanding of the procedures
and rationale of the state as it has organized itself for the support
of social research, and also of the intended application of the
outcomes of research. This must also include an analysis of those
social factors underlying the possible ways by which the state may
influence the research process in other, more fundamental, ways,
including support of education facilities and other methods of
shaping how persons perceive, interpret, and experience the existing
social order and social control. Second, a theory of ideology is
necessary in order to explain the political content, implications
and power relations embedded in policing research. Also included
in a theory of ideology must be an analysis of those social factors
underlying the normative and procedural bases of the research
community Which may contribute to how the research community
produces a more or less consistent body of research, or follows
procedural rules that either encourage or inhibit theoretical
questions and interpretations from.analysis. Finally, and most
important, there must be a cohesive theory of society that grounds
understanding of knowledge production within the production and
reproduction of social life in general as a historical transformation.
In sum, if this study has been successful, it should be clear
that the social basis of knowledge, as reflected by policing research,
reflects a variety of factors, some of which may be fundamental to

the epistemological structure of inquiry, and others located in the

230

research community, in the organization of state power, or in the
apparatus designed to carry out a particular mandate. These factors
are often inconsistent, contradictory, and mediate and are in turn
mediated by, additional social factors. It is this complexity that
must be sorted out by a sociology of knowledge and in turn, this

is what a sociology of knowledge can contribute to analysis of
policing research and the federal g0vernment's function in the

organization of it.

APPENDIX I: CONTENT ANALYSIS METHODOLOGY

231
APPENDIX I
CONTENT ANALYSIS METHODOLOGY

Employing idexical and expressive analytic models, the six
journals were examined for features that might be affected by
funding. An expressive model of content analysis is the attempt
to reveal a latent subjective state of either the source (e.g.,
the sponsor or the researcher), or a message (e.g., the published
study) through qualitative analysis that involves judgments and
impressionistic procedures for observation. Indexical content
analysis focuses not on lexical items (e.g., specific words), but
on what is conveyed in the message, given the specific context and
circumstances in which the message occurs. The two models were
juxtaposed to allow for analysis of subjective states (corresponding,
for example, to ideological states or direction towards policing),
as well as for analysis of specific features (e.g., data source of
a study). This juxtaposition facilitates attaching concrete features
of research to, for example, subjective states of researcher or
ideological status of a study.

Journal articles were judged as appropriate sources for data
because journals are, in a sense, the marketplace for the exchange
of ideas and knowledge. Although many scholars use books as their
medium, the ideas found in most books either appear first in journal
form, or appear in the citations and discussions of journal contrib-
utors. Journal articles disseminate empirical research, elaborate,

and represent ideas developed outside journal pages, and expand

232

methodological, theoretical and conceptual ideas. Although journal
articles may not represent a "balanced" view of the state of a given
field in that so-called "fringe" developments may be excluded, it
seems safe, nonetheless, to assume that mainstream journals are

representative of the dominant trends of the field.
JOURNAL SELECTION

Two principles guided journal selection: 1) Those chosen
were widely disseminated in their particular field. 2) They were
considered "respectable" academic journals by informants interviewed
in the field. The journals are intended to reflect a continuum
from relatively specialized academic articles written primarily for
academics and addressing specific theoretical, methodological or
empirical topics, to journals written for police practitioners and

criminal justice specialists.
PROCEDURE

Each journal was first randomly screened to insure that it
included the necessary type of articles. A tentative list of
metacategories (i.e., general abstract categories capable of
generating more specific empirical categories) was constructed.
Anticipated subcategories were tentatively assigned these general
categories, and others were added as necessary when suggested by
a particular reading. A pretest of the coding instrument was then
performed, and to avoid possible later bias, nonutilized journals

were employed for the purpose of this pretest. From the results of

233

the pretest, categories were sharpened, the mechanical skills of
coding, classification and recording were practiced and ambiguities

in definitions of categories were removed.
CODING

The coding proceeded by carefully reading each article.
Fipgg, an initial reading was conducted for both content and
context of categories, and a summary of each article was obtained.
This allowed for retrieval of information later in the event
additional categories were generated after articles were read.
Systematic and careful notes enabled coding from.these notes rather
than continual referral back to articles. Although this process
was time-consuming, the rewards were commensurably greater. Notes
were color-coded by journal, by author, and by category. Second,
a second reading was performed for the purpose of actual coding.

A data sheet was constructed which allowed both for tabulation and
notation of particular categories. After each volume of a journal
was completed, the data was then transferred to a master sheet
which tabulated running totals.

Two self-check strategies were employed. The first, a
reinterpretive self-check involved coding off notes and coding
directly from.each article, roughly one week apart, then comparing
the results. The consistency was over 99 percent. A second
strategy, time-lagged coding, involved recoding randomly selected
articles four to six months after the first coding, and then
comparing both original and later codings. The consistency was

approximately 99 percent.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

234

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Abramson, Mark A., The Funding of Social Knowledge Production and
Application: A Survey of Federal Aggncies, National
Academy of Sciences (washington, D.C.), 1978.

 

 

Alford, Robert R., "Paradigms of Relations Between State and
Society," in L. N. Lindberg, R. Alford, C. Crouch and
C. Offe (eds), Stress and Contradiction in Modern Capitalism,
Lexington Books, Lexington, Massachusetts, pp. 145-159, 1975.

 

Alpert, Harry, "The Social Sciences and the National Science
Foundation: 1945-1955," American Sociological Review,
20, December, 653-661, 1955.

 

------ "Congressmen, Social Scientists, and Attitudes Toward Federal
Support of Social Science Research," American Sociological,
Review, 23, December, 682-686, 1958.

Althusser, Louis, and Etienne Balibar, Reading Capital, New Left
Books, London, 1970.

 

Altvater, Elmar, "Notes on Some Problems of State Interventionism
(1)," Kapitalistate, No. 1, 96-108, 1973a.

--—--- "Notes on Some Problems of State Interventionism (II),"
Kapitalistate, No. 2, 1973b.

Anderson, Perry, Considerations on western Marxism, New Left Books,
London, 1977.

Anderson, Robert C., and Robert A. McRorie, "Sponsored Research,
Graduate Training and Academic Growth," in Strickland,
_p, cit., 26-32, 1967.

Andrews, Emerson, F., Philanthropic Giving, Russell Sage Foundation,
New York, 1950.

------ Philanthropic Foundations, Russel Sage Foundation, New York,
1956.

------ Foundations: Twenty Viewpoints (ed), Russel Sage Foundation,
New York, 1965.

235

Aptheker, Bettina, Big Business and the American University, New
Outlook Publishers, New York, 1966.

---- The Academic Rebellion in the United States, Citadel Press,
Secaucus, New Jersey, 1972.

Ashbee, Eric, Adapting Universities to a Technological Society,
Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, washington, 1974.

 

Attewell, Paul, and Dean R. Gerstein, "Government Policy and Local
Practice," American Sociological Review, 44, April, 311-327,
1979.

Auburn, Norman P.,"Tax Support," in Connery, pp, cit., 94-107,
1970.

Axt, Richard G., The Federal Government and Financing Higher
Education, Columbia University Press, New York, 1952.

 

Baker, Keith, "A New Grantsmanship," American Sociologist,
19, November, 206-19, 1975.

Balbus, Isaac D., The Dialectics of Legal Repression: Black Rebels
Before the American Criminal Courts, Russell Sage Foundation,
New York, 1973.

 

Baran, Paul A., and Paul M. Sweezy, Mongpoly Capital, Monthly
Review Press, New York, 1968.

 

Bar-Hillel, Yehoshua, "Indexical Expressions," Mind, 63, July, 359-377,
1954.

Barber, Bernard, Science and the Social Order, The Free Press,
Glencoe, 1952.

 

Barber, Richard J., The Politics of Research, Public Affairs Press,
Washington, 1966.

Baritz, Loren, Servants of Power: A History of the Use of Social
Science in American Industry, Wesleyan University Press,
Middletown, Connecticut, 1960.

Barnes, Harry E., (ed), An Introduction to the History of Sociology,
University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1948.

Barnes, Harry E., and Howard Becker, Social Thought From Lore to
Science, D. C. Heath, Boston, New York and Chicago, 1938.

 

Barnes, Barry, and John Law, "Whatever Should be Done with Indexical
Expressions?", Theory and Society, 3, Summer, 223-237, 1976.

236

Bell, Daniel, "Government by Commission," Public Interest, 3, Spring,
3-9, 1966.

 

Berger, Peter, L., and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of
Reality, Anchor Books, Garden City, New York, 1967.

Berger, Peter, and Stanley Pullberg, "Reification and the Sociological
Critique of Consciousness," Historyiand Theory, IV (1): 194-211,
1964.

 

Bernal, J. D., Marx and Science, International Publishers, New York,
1952.

 

Beyer, Janice M., "Editorial Policies and Practices Among Leading
Journals in Four Scientific Fields," The Sociological
Qparterly, 19, Winter, 68-88, 1978.

 

Blau, Peter M., The Dynamics of Bureaucracy, University of Chicago
Press, Chicago, 1955.

Blauner, Robert, "Whitewash over watts," Transaction, 3, Mar/Apr, 3-10,
1966.

 

Blume, Stuart 8., Toward a Political Sociologyiof Science, The Free
Press, New York, 1974.

Blumstein, Alfred, A National Program of Research, Development, Tests,
and Evaluation on Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice, U.S.
Government Printing Office, washington, 1968.

Bohme, Gernot, "Models for the Development of Science," in Spiegel-
Rosing and Price, pp, cit., 319-351, 1977.

Bouchier, David, "Radical Ideologies and Sociology of Knowledge: A

Model for Comparative Analysis," Sociology, 11, January, 25-46,
1977.

Boulding, Kenneth E., "Notes on a Theory of Philanthropy," in Dickinson,
_p, cit., 57-71, 1962.

------ "The Misallocation of Intellectual Resources in Economics," in
I. L. Horowitz, pp, cit., 34-51, 1971.

Bowen, Howard R., "Financial Needs of the Campus," in Connery, _p, cit.,
75-93, 1970.

Bowles, Samuel, and Herbert Gintis, Schooling in Capitalist America:
Educational Reform and the Contradictions of Economic Life,
Basic Books, New York, 1976.

237

Brewster, Kingman, "Campus, 1980," in Connery, pp, cit., 58-65, 1970.

Broadhead, Robert S., and Ray C. Rist, "Gatekeepers and the Social
Control of Social Research," Social Problems, 23, February,
325-336, 1976.

Brodie, Bernard, "The Scientific Strategies," in Gilpin and Wright,
_p, cit., 240-266, 1964.

Brooks, Harvey, "The Scientific Adviser," in Gilpin and wright, pp,
cit., 73-96, 1964.

Broughton, Philip S., "The Economic Function of Foundations," in Andrews,
‘pp, cit., 19-27, 1965.

Brown, Harvey Richard, "Bureaucracy as Praxis: Toward a Political
Phenomenology of Formal Organizations," Administrative Science
Qparterly, 23, September, 365-382, 1978.

 

Bryant, Christopher, G. A., "Kuhn, Paradigms and Sociology," British
Journal of Sociology, 3, September, 354-59, 1975.

Burns, Tom, "On the Plurality of Social Systems," in J. R. Lawrence,
Operational Research and the Social Sciences, Tavistock, London,
1966.

Carter, Luther J., "Social Sciences: Where do They Fit in the Politics
of Science?" American Sociologist, 2, February, 9-11, 1967.

Case, Everett, "Philanthropy as a Social Investment," Andrews, _p,
Cite’ 11-14, 1965.

Castells, Manuel, The Urban Question: A Maxist Approach, MIT Press,
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1977.

Chase, Janet M., "Normative Criteria for Scientific Publication,"
American Sociologist, 5, August, 262-64, 1970.

Chelimsky, Eleanor, "A Primary-Source Examination of the Law Enforcement
Assistance Administration (LEAA), and Some Reflections on Crime
Control Policy," Journal of Police Science and Administration,
3, June, 203-21, 1975.

Child, Arthur, "The Theoretical Possibility of the Sociology of Knowledge,"
Ethics, 5, July, 392-418, 1941a.

------ "The Problem of Imputation in the Sociology of Knowledge," Ethics,
5, January, 200-219, 1941b.

Child, John, "Strategies of Control and Organizational Behavior,"
Administrative Science Quarterly, 18, March, 1-17, 1973.

238
Chinitz, Benjamin, "The Management of Federal Expenditures for Research
on Social Problems," in Horowitz, pp, cit., 71-85, 1971.

Clark, Ramsey, Crime in America: Observations on its Nature, Causes,
Prevention and Control, Simon and Schuster, New York, 1970.

 

Cohen, David K., and Marvin Lazerson, "Education and the Corporate
Order," Socialist Revieg, II (2), 47-72, 1972.

Cole, Stephen, "Professional Standing and the Reception of Scientific

Discoveries," American Journal of Sociolpgy, 76, September, 286-
306, 1972.

Cole, Stephen, Leonard Rubin and Jonathan R. Cole, "Peer Review and
the Support of Science," Scientific American, 237, October,
34-41, 1977.

Collins, Sharon M., "The Use of Social Research in the Courts," in
in Lynn, pp, cit., 145-83, 1978.

Connery, Robert H., (ed) The Corporation and the Campus: Support of
Higher Education in the 19703, Proceedings of the Academy of
Political Science, XXX(1), 1970.

 

Cook, Fred J., The Warfare State, Collier Books, New York, 1964.

 

Coulter, Jeff, Approaches to Insanity, Martin Robertson and Company,
London, 1973.

Crane, Diana, "Scientists at Major and Minor Universities: A Study
of Productivity and Recognition," American Sociological Review,
30, October, 699-714, 1965.

----- "The Gatekeepers of Science: Some Factors Affecting the Selection
of Articles for Scientific Journals," American Sociologist,
2, November, 195-201, 1967.

------ "Social Structure in a Group of Scientists: A Test of the
'Invisible College' Hypothesis," American Sociological Review,
34, June, 335-52, 1969.

 

Crozier, Michel, "The Relationship Between Micro-and Macro-Sociology:
A Study of Organizational Systems as an Empirical Approach

to the Problems of Macrosociology," Human Relations, 25, July,
229-51, 1972.

 

Dawe, Allan, "Review: A Sociology of Sociology," Sociological Review,
19, February, 140-47, 1971.

 

239

Day, Robert, and JoAnne V. Day, "A Review of the Current State of
Negotiated Order Theory: An Appreciation and a Critique,"
Sociological Quarterly, 18, Winter, 126-42, 1977.

Denzin, Norman K., "Who Leads: Sociology or Society?", American
Sociolqgist, 5, May, 125-27, 1970.

 

Deutscher, Irwin, "Words and Deeds: Social Structure and Social
Policy," Social Problems, 13, Winter, 235-54, 1966.

------ "Public and Private Opinions: Social Situations and Multiple
Realities," in Nagi and Corwin, pp, cit., 323-49, 1972.

------ "Public Issues or Private Troubles: Is Evaluation Research
Sociological?", Sociological Focus, 9, Aug, 231-37, 1976.

Dewey, John, Problems of Men, Philosophical Library, New York, 1946.

Dickinson, 6., Frank, (ed) Philanthropy and Public Polipy, National
Bureau of Economic Research, New York, 1962.

 

Douglas, Jack, Understandinngveryday Life: Toward the Reconstruction
of Sociological Knowledgp, Aldine, Chicago, 1970.

 

Dowling, John, and Jeffrey Pfeffer, "Organizational Legitimacy: Social
Values and Organizational Behavior," Pacific Sociological Review,
XVIII (1), 122-36, 1975.

Dreitzel, Hans Peter, "Social Science and the Problem of Rationality:
Notes on the Sociology of Technocrats," Politics and Society,
2, Winter, 165-82, 1972.

 

Dror, Yehezkel, "Knowledge, Social Action, and Social Problems,"
Social Problems, 7, Spring, 356-59, 1960.

 

------ sigu for Policy Sciences, American Elsevier, New York.

Dupre, J. Stefan, and Sanford A. Lakoff, Science and the Nation:
Policy and Politics, Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, 1962.

 

Dupree, A. Hunter, Science in the-Federal Government: A History of
Policies and Activities to 1940, Belknap Press, Cambridge,
Massachusetts, 1957.

Belle, Richard, "Corporation Giving in A Free Society," in Reeves,
_p_. cit., 42-48, 1970.

Etzioni, Amitai, "Basic Human Needs, Alienation and Inauthenticity,"
American Sociological Review, 33, December, 870-85, 1968.

Ewing, Blair G., "Change and Continuity in Criminal Justice Research:
A Perspective from NILECJ," Journal of Research in Crime and
Delinquency, July, 266-78, 1978.

240

Blair, Ewing, with Mary Ann Beck and Mary Graham, "Responding to the
Policymaker's Need for Research," unpublished manuscript,
National Institute of Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice,
washington, 1979.

Ford Foundation, Annual Rgport, The Ford Foundation, New York, 1975.

Flash, Edward 5., Jr., "Macro-Economics for Macro-Policy," The Annals
of the American Academy of PolitiCal and Social Science,
394, March, 46-56, 1971.

Foundation News, Foundation News: Journal of Philanthropy, Monthly.

Frieden, Bernard J., and Marshall Kaplan, "Urban Aid Comes Full Circle:
Community Development and the Model Cities Legacy," Civil Rights
Digest, Spring, 12-23, 1977.

Friedland, Roger, "Class, Power and Social Control: The war on Poverty,"
Politics and Society, VI, 1, 459-489, 1976.

Galliher, John F., and James L. MeCartney, "The Influence of Funding
Agencies on Juvenile Delinquency Research," Social Problems,
21, Summer, 77-90, 1973.

Gamson, William, A., “Community Issues and Their Outcome: How to Lose
a Fluoridation Referendum," in Gouldner and Miller, pp, Cit.,
350-57, 1968.

Gene, Herbert J., "Social Science for Social Policy," I. L. Horowitz
(8d), 22'. Cite, 13-33’ 19710

Gilpin, Robert, and Christopher Wright (eds), Scientists and National
Policy Making, Columbia University Press, New York, 1964.

Godelier, Maurice, "Infrastructures, Societies, and History,"
Current Anthropolpgy, 19, December, 763-68, 1978.

Goffman, Erving, Relations in Public: Microstudies of the Public Order,
Harper/Colophon, New York, 1971.

----- Encounters, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, England.

----- Frame Analysis: An Essay on the Organization of Experience,
Harper/Colophon, New York, 1974.

Goldman, Paul, and Donald R. Van Houten, "Managerial Strategies and
the WOrker: .A Marxist Analysis of Bureaucracy," Sociolpgical
Qpprterly, 18, Winter, 108-25, 1977.

Goodwin, Leonard, Can Social Science Help Resolve Rational Problems?
Welfare, a Case in Point, The Free Press, New York, 1975.

241
Gouldner, Alvin, W., "Exploration in Applied Social Science," in
Gouldner and Miller, _p, cit., 5-22, 1968a.

----- "The Sociologist as Partisan Sociology and the welfare State,"
American Sociolpgist, 3, May, 103-16, 1968b.

 

------ The Cominngrisis of Western Sociology, Equinox, New York,
1971.

 

Gouldner, Alvin W., and S. M. Miller (eds), Applied Sociology;
Opportunities and Problems, The Free Press, New York, 1968.

 

Green, Phillip, "The Obligations of America Social Scientists,"
The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social
Science, 394, March, 13-27, 1971.

Gregware, Peter R., "Massachusetts: Experiments in Crime Prevention,"
Columbia Human Rights Law Review, 5, Spring, 155-186, 1973.

Gude, Gilbert, and George J. Mannina, Jr., "The Impact on Crime of the
Enforcement Assistance Administration in the District of
Columbia," Columbia and Human Rights Law Review, 5, Spring,
27-54, 1973.

Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, Annual Reports, John Simon Guggenheim
Memorial Foundation, New York, 1975.

Gusfield, Joseph R., "The (F) Utility of Knowledge? The Relation
of Social Science to Public Policy Toward Drugs," The Annals
of the American Academy of Political and Social Science,
417, January, 1-15, 1975.

 

Habermas, Jurgen, Knowledge and Human Interests, Beacon Press, Boston,
1972a.

------ "Technology and Science as 'Ideology'" in Towards a Rational
Society, Beacon Press, Boston, 81-122, 1972b.

 

----- Theory and Practice, Beacon Press, Boston, 1973.
---- "On Social Identity," Telos, 19, Spring, 91-103, 1974.

---- Legitimation Crisis, Beacon Press, Boston, 1975.

 

Hall, Robert L., "Relations Between Researchers and Practitioners," in
Nagi and Corwin, op. cit., 193-227, 1972.

Hallett, Douglas L., "Is the Liberal University Dead?" in The University
in Transition, Memphis State University Press, Memphis, 46-68,
1971.

 

242

Hamilton, Charles V., "Minority Groups," in Connery, _p, cit., 28-34,
1970. '

Hardee, Covington, "Philanthropy and the Business Corporation, Existing
Guidelines-Future Policy," in Dickinson, _p, cit., 103-110,
1962. _-

Harrar, J. G., "Aid Abroad: Some Principles and Their Latin American
Practive," in Andrews, _p. cit., 39-43, 1965.

Harris, Richard, The Fear of Crime, Praeger, New York, 1969.

----- Justice: The Crisis of Law,-Order and Freedom in America, Avon,
New York, 1970.

Hayakawa, S. I., "The University Under Attack," The University Transition,
Memphis State University Press, 46-68, 1971.

Hearn, Francis, "Rationality and Bureaucracy: Maoist Contributions to
a Marxist Theory of Bureaucracy," Sociological Quarterly,
19, Winter, 37-54, 1978.

Hester, James M., "The New Concept of 'Community ," in Connery, _p, cit.,
35-37, 1970.

Heydebrand, Welf, "Organizational Contradictions in Public Bureaucracies:
Toward a Marxian Theory of Organizations," Sociological Quarterly,
18, Winter, 83-107, 1977.

 

Horkheimer, Max, Critical Theory: Selected Essays, Seabury Press, New York,
1972.

------ Dawn and Decline: Notes from 1926-1931 and 1950-1969, Seabury
Press, New York, 1978.

Horowitz, David, "The Foundations: Charity Begins at Home," Rapparts,
7, April, 38-48, 1969a.

----- "Billion Dollar Brains: How'Wealth Puts Knowledge in its Pocket,"
Rapparts, 7, May, 36-44, 1969b.

------ "Sinews of Empire," Rapparts, 8, October, 32-42, 1969c.

Horowitz, Irving Louis (ed), The Use and Abuse of Social Science,
Transaction Books, New Brunswick, 1971.

 

----- The Rise and Fall of Project Camelot: Studies in the Relationship
Between Social Science and Practical Politics (ed), MIT Press,
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1974.

Horowitz, Irving Louis, and James Everett Katz, Social Science and
Public Policy in the United States, Praeger, New York and Washington,
1975.

 

 

243

Horowitz, Irving L., and Ruth L. Horowitz, ‘Tax-Exempt Foundations:
Their Effects on National Policy," in Horowitz, pp, cit.,
170-195, 1971.

Hoult, Thomas F., "...Who Shall Prepare Himself to the Battle?",
American Sociologipt, 22, February, 3-7, 1968.

Howard, John, "Public Policy and the White working Class," in Horowitz,
pp, cit., 52-70, 1971.

Immersheim, Allen, W., "Organizational Changes as Paradigm Shift,"
Sociological Quarterly, 18, Winter, 33-43, 1977.

 

----- International Association of Chiefs of Police (IACP), The Police
Year Book, Washington, 1969.

Jordan, W. K., Philanthropy in Engiand 1480-1660: A Study of the
Changing Pattern of Epglish Social Aspirations, George Allen
and Unwin, London, 1959.

Kant, Immanuel, Critique of Pure Reason, St. Martin's Press, New York,
1965.

 

Kallen, David J., "Behavioral Science Research in Growth and Development,"
American Sociologist, 1, February, 79-81, 1966.

 

Kaplan, Abraham, The Conduct of Inquiry: Methodology for the Behavioral
Sciences, Chandler, San Francisco, 1964. '

Karier, Clarence J., Paul Violas, and Joel Spring, Roots of Crisis:
American Education in the Twentieth Century, Rand McNally,
Chicago, 1973.

Kash, Don E., "Politics and Research," in Nagi and Corwin, pp, cit.,
97-127, 1972.

Katz, Michael B., Class Bureaucracy, and Schools: The Illusion of
Educational Chapge in America, New York, 1975.

Katzenbach, Nicholas, de B., "Introduction," in Harris, _p, cit.,

Kaufman, Herbert Kaufman, The Forest Rapger: A Study in Administrative
Behavior, John Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1978.

Kerr, Clark, "Higher Education in America and Its Discontents," in
The University in Transition, Memphis State University Press,
Memphis, 1971.

Kidd, Charles V., American Universities and Federal Research, Belnap
Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1959.

 

244

Killian, J. R., Jr., "Introduction," in Dupre and Lakoff, _p, cit., 1962.

 

"University Research," in Connery, _p, cit., 38-43, 1970.

Klare, Michael, (ed) The University-Military Complex: A Directory
and Related Documents, North American Congress on Latin
America, New York, 1969.

 

Knight, Douglas M., (ed) The Federal Government and Higher Education,
Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, 1960.

Kosik, Karel, Dialectics of the Concrete: A Study on Problems of Man
and World, D. Reidel, Boston, 1976.

Kreidler, Robert N., "The President's Science Advisers and National
Science Policy," in Gilpin and wright, pp, cit., 113-143, 1964.

Krohn, Roger C., "Patterns of the Institutionalization of Research," in
Nagi and Corwin, pp, cit., 29-66, 1972.

Kuhn, Thomas 8., The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, University of
Chicago Press, London, 1970.

Lakoff, Sanford A., "Knowledge, Power and Democratic Theory," Annals
of the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 394,
March, 4-12, 1971.

Law Enforcement Assistance Administration (LEAA), The Law Enforcement
Assistance Administration: A Partnership for Crime Control,
U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, 1975.

 

------ Assessinngriminal Justice Projects: Findingp from the National
Evaluation Program, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington,
1977.

 

---- A Partnership for Crime Control, U.S. Government Printing Office,
washington, 1978.

 

Law, John, "Is Epistemology Redundant? A Sociological View,"
Philosophy of the Social Sciences, V, 3, 317-37, 1975.

Layton, E., "Conditions of Technological Development" in Spiegel-Rosing
and de Solla Price, pp, cit., 197-222, 1977.

Ledeen, Michael A., "Fasist Social Policy," in Horowitz and Katz,
‘pp, cit., 90-108, 1975.

Lindeman, Edward C., "Wealth and Culture," in Reeves, pp, cit., 75-80, 1970.
Lipsky, Michael, "Social Scientists and the Riot Commission," Annals of

the American Academy of Political and Social Science, 394,
March, 72-83, 1971.

245
Lipsky, Michael, and David J. Olson, "The Processing of Racial Crisis
in America," Politics and Society, VI, 1, 79-103, 1976.

Lukacs, Georg, History and Class Consciousness: Studies in Marxist
Dialectics, Merlin Press, London, 1971a.

 

----- The Theory of the Novel, Merlin Press, London, 1971b.

Lynn, Laurence E., ed, Knowledge and Policy: The Uncertain Connection,
National Academy of Sciences, washington, 1978.

Lyons, Gene M., "The President and His Experts," Annals of the American
Academy of Political and Social Science, 394, March, 36-45, 1971.

 

McCartney, James L., "On Being Scientific: Changing Styles of
Presentation of Sociological Research," American Sociologist,
5, February, 30-35, 1970.

----- "The Financing of Sociological Research: Trends and Consequences,"
in Edward A. Tiryakian, The Phenomenon of Sociology, Appleton-
Century-Crofts, New York, 1971.

McCormack, James, and Vincent A. Fulmer, "Federal Sponsorship of
University Research," in Knight, _p, cit., 76-139, 1960.

McHale, John, "Big Business Enlists for War on Poverty," Transaction,
2, May/June, 3-9, 1965.

McKee, James B., "Some Observations on the Self-Consciousness of
Sociologists," Ohio Valley Sociologist, 32, Summer, 1967.

 

McLauchlan, Gregory, "Lesa: A Case Study in the Development of the
Social Industrial Complex," Crime and Social Justice,
4, Fall-Winter, 15-23, 1975.

 

McNamara, Joseph D., "Profile: Harvard Law School's Center for the
Advancement of Criminal Justice," Police Science, 39, January,
24-6, 1972.

 

McNaul, James P., "Relations Between Researchers and Practitioners,"
in Nagi and Corwin, pp, cit., 269-88, 1972.

Machlup, Fritz, The Production and Distribution of Knowledge in the
United States, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1962.

Maines, David R., and Joseph Palenski, "The Final Report in Contract
Research as a Negotiated Outcome," unpublished manuscript,
Yale University, 1978.

Mania, Jerome G., "The Sociology of Knowledge and Community Health
Research," Social Problems, 15, Spring, 488-501, 1968.

246

Mannheim, Karl, Ideology_and Utopia, Harvest, New York, 1936.

 

Manning, Peter, K., Police work, MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts,
1978.

 

------ "Semiotics and Loosely Coupled Organizations," unpublished
manuscript, Michigan State University, 1979.

 

The Narc's Game, MIT Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, forthcoming.

 

Maquet, Jacques J., The Sociology of Knowledgp, Beacon Press, Boston,
1951.

Marcuse, Herbert, One Dimensional Man, Beacon Press, Boston, 1968.

 

---- Eros and Civilization, Abacus, London, 1972.

 

Marts, Arnaud C., Philanthropy's Role in Civilization: Its Contribution
to Human Freedom, Harper and Brothers, New York, 1953.

 

 

Marx, Karl, and Frederick Engels, The German Ideology, International
Publishers, New York, 1974.

 

Masterman, Margaret, "The Nature of a Paradigm," in Imre Lakatos and
Alan Musgrave, eds, Criticism and the Growth of Knowledgp,
Cambridge University Press, Aberdeen, Scotland, 1970.

 

May, William F., "Corporate Support of Higher Education," in Connery,
22. Cite, 147-152’ 19700

Merton, Robert K., Social Theory and Social Structure, The Free Press,
New York, 1968a.

 

------ "The Matthew Effect in Science," Science, 159, January, 56-63,
1968. .

Miliband, Ralph, The State in Capitalist Society, Basic Books, New York,
1969.

Miller, D. C., "The Impact of Organization and Research Value Structures
on Research Behavior," in Gouldner and Miller, pp, cit.,
39-52, 1968.

Miller, Howard S., Dollars for Research: Science and Its Patrons in
Nineteenth Century America, University of washington Press,
Seattle, 1970.

Miller, Paul, "Comments on a Proposal to Establish a National Foundation

for the Social Sciences," American Sociologist, 2, August,
160-61, 1967.

 

247

Miller, walter B., "Ideology and Criminal Justice Policy: Some Current
Issues," Journal of Criminal Law and Criminology, 64, June, 141-
162, 1973.

Millett, John D., "Student Charges," in Connery, _p, cit., 108-119, 1970.

Mills, C. Wright, The Power Elite, Oxford University Press, New York,
1956.

Mitroff, Ian I., and Ralph H. Kilmann, "Systemic Knowledge Toward an
Intetrated Theory of Science," Theory and Society 4, Spring,
103-29, 1977.

Morris, Norval, and Gordon Hawkes, The Honest Politician's Guide to
Crime Control, University of Chicago Press, Chicago, 1970.

 

Muelder, Milton E., Sponsored University Programs for Research and
Education, Office of Research Development and the Graduate
School, Publication No. 12, Michigan State University, East
Lansing, 1971.

Nagi, Saad Z., and Ronald G. Corwin, eds, The Social Contexts of Research,
Wiley-Interscience, New York, 1972.

National Academy of Sciences (NAS, The Behavioral and Social Sciences:
Outlook and Needs, Prentice-Hall, Englewood Cliffs, 1969.

 

 

----- Behavioral and Social Science Research in the Department of
Defense: A Framework for Management, NAS, Washington, 1971a.

------ Policy and Program Research in a University Setting: A Case
Study, NAS, Washington, 1971b.

------ The Funding of Social Knowledge Production and Application: A
Survey of Federal Agencies, NAS, Washington, 1978a.

----- The Federal Investment in Knowledge of Social Problems, NAS,
Washington, 1978b. '

National Advisory Commission on Criminal Justice Standards and Goals,
Police, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, 1973.

------ Criminal Justice Research and Development: Report of the Task
Force on Criminal Justice Research and Development, U.S.
Government Printing Office, Washington, 1976.

National Council for the Social Studies, Social Studies and the Social
Sciences, Harcourt, Brace and WOrld, New York, 1962.

National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), The Role of Federal Agencies
in the Crime and Delinquency Field: A Compilation of Federal
Support Programs, U.S. Government Printing Office, Washington, 1970.

248

National Institute of Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice (NILECJ),
National Institute of Law Enforcement and Criminal Justice
Program Plan: Fiscal Year, U.S. Government Printing Office,
washington, Annual.

 

------ Research, Evaluation, and Technological Transfer, U.S. Government
Printing Office, Washington, 1976.

----- "Solicitation for Proposals to Conduct Research on 'Collective
Disorders'," unpublished manuscripts, NILECJ, Washington,
1978a.

------ "Collective Violence Werkshop," unpublished transcripts, 24,
January, NILECJ, Washington, 1978b.

National Science Foundation (NSF), Hearipgs Before the Subcommittee of
the Committee on Appropriations, House of Representatives,
86th Congress, 2, March, 1960, U.S. Government Printing Office,
Washington, 1960. '

 

----- Basic Research, Applied Research and Development in Industry,
1962, NSF, washington, 1965.

------ Knowledge Into Action: Improvipgthe Nation's Use of the Social
Sciences, NSF, washington, 1969.

----- Research and Development in Industry, NSF, Washington, 1973.

------ Analysis of Federal R&D Fundipggby Function--1973, NSF, washington,
1975.

Nelson, John S., "The Ideological Connection," Theory and Soceity,
4, Winter, 573-90, 1977.

Nicolaus, Martin, "The Professional Organization of Sociology: A View
From Below," in Robin Blackburn (ed), Ideology in Social Science:
Readings in Critical Social Theory, Fontana/Collins, Bungay,
Suffolk, 1972.

 

Nielsen, Weldemar, A., The Big Foundations, Columbia University Press,
New York, 1972.

Noble, David, F., America by Desigp; Science, Technology, and the Rise
of Corporate Capitalism, Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 1977.

Oates, James F., Jr., "The Corporation and the Community," in Connery,
pp, cit., 153-157, 1970.

O'Connor, James, The Fiscal Crisis of the State, St. Martin's Press,
New York, 1973.

 

249

Orlans, Harold, "Introduction," in The Use of Social Research in
Federal Domestic Programs (1), Research and Technical Programs
Subcommittee of the Government Operations, U.S. Government
Printing Office, washington, 1-19, 1967.

 

 

 

 

------ "The Political Uses of Social Research," Annals of the American
Academy of Political and Social Science, 394, March, 28-35,
1971. '

------ Contracting for Knowledge, Jossey-Bass, San Francisco, washington,
1973.

 

Oromaner, Mark Jay, "The Most Cited Sociologists, An Analysis of
Introductory Text Citations," American Sociologist, 3, May,
124-6, 1968.

Parsons, Talcott, and Gerald M. Platt (with Neil J. Smelser) The American
University, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts,
1973.

 

Patman, Wright, "The Free-Wheeling Foundations," in Reeves, _p, cit.,
195-207, 1972.

Pennings, Johannes M., "The Relevance of the Structural-Contingency Model
for Organizational Effectiveness," Administrative Science
Department, 20, September, 393-407, 1975.

Perkins, John A., and Daniel W. WOod, "Issues in Federal Aid to Higher
Education," in Knight, _p, cit., 140-75, 1960.

Peskoe, Howard E., "The 1968 Safe Streets Act: Congressional Response
to the Growing Crime Problem," Columbia Human Rights Law Review,
5, Spring, 69-116, 1973.

 

Petersen, William, "The Classification of Subnations in Hawaii: An Essay
in the Sociology of Knowledge," American Sociological Review,
34, December, 863-77, 1969.

Petroff, John, "'The Charitable Remainder Trust'" Is There a Better Way
to Make a Large Donation?," The Bulletin (New York University
University Graduate School of Business Administration), 96-96,
April, 1974.

 

Pfeffer, Jeffrey, Anthony Leong, and Katherine Strehl, "Paradigm Develop-
ment and Particularism: Journal Publication in Three Scientific
Disciplines," Social Forces, 55, June, 938-51, 1977.

Pfeffer, Jeffrey, Gerald R. Salancik and Huseyin Leblebici, "The Effect
of Uncertainty on the Use of Social Influence in Organizational
Decision Making," Administrative Science Quarterly, 21, June,
227-42, 1976.

250

Phillips, Max D., "A Study of the Office of Law Enforcement Coordination,
U.S. Treasury Department,“ Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology_
and Police Science, 54, September, 369-77, 1963.

Platt, Anthony M., ed, The Politics of Riot Commissions: 1917-1970,
MacMillan Company, New York, 1971.

Police Chief, "Federal R&D Projects Approved," Police Chief, 33, June,
20, 1966.

Popper, Karl R., Conjectures and Refutations, Harper Torchbooks, New
York, 1965.

------ The Poverty of Historicism, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London,
1972.

Price, Don K., Government and Science: Their Dynamic Relation in
American Democracy, Oxford University Press, New York, 1972.

 

------ "The Scientific Establishment," in Gilpin and Wright, pp, cit.,
19-40, 1964.

------ The Scientific Estate, Beklkap Press, Harvard University Press,
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1965.

 

Primick, Joel, and Frank von Hippel, Advice and Dissent: Scientists in
the Political Arena, Basic Books, New York, 1974.

 

Proxmire, William, "Golden Fleece Awards," unpublished Press Releases,
Office of the Senator, washington, 1975-77.

Purcell, John, "North Carolina: Corrections and Juvenile Justice in a
Rural State," Columbia Human Rights Law Review, 5, Spring, 187-
206, 1973.

Purves, Ralph A., and Lyman A. Glenny, State Budgeting for Higher
Education: Information Systems and Technical Analyses,
University of California Press, Berkely, 1976.

 

 

Radom, Matthew, The Social Scientist in American Industry: Self-Perception
of Role, Motivation, and Career, Rutgers University Press, New
Brunswick, 1970.

 

RAND Corporation, RAND 25th Anniversary Volume, Rand Corporation, Santa
Monica, 1974.

 

------ NILECJ MBO Werk Plan, unpublished working paper, Rand Corporation,
Washington, 1976.

Rashdall, Hastings, The Universities of Europe in the Middle Ages,
Oxford University Press, 1895.

251

Ravetz, J. R., "Criticisms of Science," in Spiegel-Rosing and de Sola
Price, pp, cit., 71-89, 1977.

Rector, Milton G., and Joan Wblfle, "The Law Enforcement Assistance
Administration in Perspective," Columbia Human Rights Law,
Review, 5, Spring, 55-68, 1973.

Reeves, Thomas C., ed, Foundations Under Fire, Cornell University
Press, Ithaca, 1970.

Reid, Charles, A., "Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: City-State Relations,"
Columbia Human Rights Law Review, 5, Spring, 117-153, 1973.

Rein, Martin, Social Science and Public Policy, Penguin Books,
Harmondsworth, England, 1976.

Remmling, Gunter, W., The Sociology of Karl Mannheim, Routledge and
Kegan Paul, London, 1975.

Ridgeway, James, The Closed Corporation: American Universities in Crisis,
Ballantine Books, New York, 1969.

Riecken, Henry W., "The Federal Government and Social Science Policy,"
Annals of the American Academy of Politi a1 and Social Science,
394, March, 100-13, 1971.

Ries, Raymond E., "Social Science and Ideology," Social Research,
41, Summer, 234-43, 1964.

Ringer, Fritz K., The Decline of the German Mandarins: The German Academic
Community: 1890-1933, Harvard University Press, Cambridge
Massachusetts, 1969.

Rist, Ray C., "Polity, Politics, and Social Research: A Study in the
Relationship of Federal Commissions and Social Science,"
Social Problems, 21, Summer, 113-28, 1973.

------ "Federal Funding and Social Science Research: The Emergent
Transformation, unpublished manuscript, National Institute of
Education, Washington, 1976a.

------ "Education and Social Policy in the 19703," Society, 13, January/
February, 73-6, l976b.

Ritzer, George, Socioiogy: A Multiple Paradigm Science, Allyn and Bacon,
Boston, 1975.

Rivlin, Alice M., The Role of the Federal Government in Financingifligher
Education, The Brookings Institution, Washington, 1961.

252

Rivlin, Alice M., and June O‘Neill, "Growth and Change in Higher
Education," in Connery, _p, cit., 67-74, 1970.

Rockefeller Foundation, Annual Report, Rockefeller Brothers Fund,
New York, 1975.

 

Rogovin, Charles, "The Genesis of the Law Enforcement Assistance
Administration: A Personal Account," Columbia Human Rights
Law Review, 5, Spring, 9-25, 1973.

 

Rosenthal, Benjamin, Michael Jacobson and Marcy Bohm, "Professors on
the Take," The Progressive, November, 42-46, 1976.

 

Ross, Murray G., The University: The Anatomy of Academe, McGraw Hill,
New York, St. Louis, San Francisco, 1976.

Rush, Richard H., The Wreckinngperation: Phase One, Anglo-American
Publishers, Canterbury, G. B., 1972.

Salancik, Gerald R., and Jeffrey Pfeffer, "The Bases and Use of Power
in Organizational Decision Making: The Case of a University,"
Administrative Science Quarterly, 19, December, 453-73, 1974.

 

Salomon, Jean-Jacques, Science and Politics, MIT Press, Cambridge,
Massachusetts, 1973. /

 

------ "Science Policy Studies and the Development of Science Policy,"
in Spiegel-Rosing and de Solla Price, _p, cit., 43-70, 1977.

Sartre, Jean-Paul, Search for a Method, Vintage, New York, 1963.

Schaffter, Dorothy, The National Science Foundation, Praeger, New York,
and Washington, 1969.

Schroyer, Trent, The Critique of Domination: The Origins and Development
of Critical Theory, George Braziller, New York, 1973.

 

Schulman, Jay, Carol Brown and Roger Kahn, "Report on the Russell Sage
Foundation," Insupgent Sociologist, 2, Summer, 2-34, 1972.

 

Schwendinger, Herman and Julia, The Sociologists of the Chair: Radical
Analysis of the Formative Years of North American Sociolpgy:
1883-1922, Basic Books, New York, 1974.

Scott, Walter, "Personality Parade," Parade Magazine, 3, June, 2, 1979.

 

Sebring, Robert H., "The Five Million Dollar Misunderstanding: A Perspec-
tive on State Government-University Interorganizational Conflicts,’
Administrative Science Quarterly, 22, September, 505-23, 1977.

253

Seidman, Harold, "Government Sponsored Enterprise in the United States,"
in B.L.R., Smith, pp, cit., 83-108, 1975.

Shah, Saleem A., and Thomas L. Lalley, "Information Dissemination and
Research Utilization Efforts," unpublished manuscript, NIMH
Center for Studies of Crime and Delinquency, Rockville, Maryland,
1973.

Shanas, Ethel, "The American Journal of Sociology Through Fifty Years,"
American Journal of Sociology, 50, May, 522-33, 1945.

Shaw, Martin, "The Coming Crisis of Radical Sociology," in R. Blackburn,
ed, Ideology in Social Science: Readings in Critical Social
Theory, Fontanta, G.B., 32-44, 1972.

-—-- Marxism and Social Science, Pluto Press, London, 1975.

Sherman, Howard, "Dialectics as Method," Insurgent Sociologist,
6, Summer, 57-64, 1976.

‘Sieber, Sam D., Reforming the University: The Role of the Social
Research Center, Praeger, New York, 1972.

Silk, Leonard S., The Research Revolution, McGraw Hill, 1960.

Silverman, David, The Theory of Organizations, Basic Books, New York,
1971.

Simonton, Dean Keith, "The Socio-Political Context of Philosophical
Beliefs: A Trans-Historical Causal Analysis," Social Forces,
54, March, 513-23, 1976.

Skolnick, Jerome H., The Politics of Protest, U.S. Government Printing
Office, Washington, 1969. '

Sloan, Alfred P., Jr., "Big Business Must Help Our Colleges,"
Colliers, 2, June, pp. 13, ff., 1951.

Smigel, Erwin O., and H. Laurence Ross, "Factors in Editorial Decision,"
American Sociologist, 5, February, 19-21, 1970.

Smith, Bruce L.R., The Rand Corporation: Case Study of a Nonprofit
Advisory Corporation, Harvard University Press, Cambridge,
Massachusetts, 1966.

---- The New Political Economy: The Public Use of the Private Sector,
ed, John Wiley and Sons, New York, 1975.

Smith, David N., Who Rules the Universities? Monthly Review Press,
New York, 1974.

254

Smith, Dusky Lee, "Sociology and the Rise of Corporate Capitalism,"
Science and Society, 29, Fall, 401-408, 1965.

Spiegel-Rosing, Ina, and Derek de Solla Price, eds, Science, Technology
and Society: A Cross-Disciplinary Perspective, Sage, Beverly
Hills, 1977.

Spring, Joel H., "Education and the Rise of the Corporate State,"
Socialist Review, 2, March/April, 72-101, 1972.

 

Staats, Elmer, B., "New Problems of Accountability for Federal
Programs," in B.L.R., Smith, pp, cit., 46-67, 1975.

Staude, John Raphael, Max Scheler: 1874-1928, an Intellectual Portrait,
The Free Press, New York, 1967.

Staw, Barry M., and Eugene Szwajkowski, "The Scarcity-Munificence
Component of Organizational Environments and the Commission
of Illegal Acts," Administrative Science Quarterly, 20,
September, 345-54, 1975.

 

Stehr, Nico, and Lyle E. Larson, "The Rise and Decline of Areas of
Specialization," American Sociologist, 7, August, 5-6, 1972.

 

Strauss, Anselm, Negotiations, Josey-Bass, San Francisco, 1978.

Strickland, Stephen, ed, Sppnsored Research in American Universities
and Colleges, American Council on Education, washington, 1967.

Sundquist, James L., "Research Brokerage: The weak Link," in Lynn,
22: Cite, 126-44, 1978.

Syzmanski, A1, "The Practice of Marxist Social Science," Insurgent
Sociologist, 7, Winter, 53-59, 1977.

Taft, J. Richard, Understanding Foundations: Dimensions in Fund Raising,
MeGraw Hill, New York, 1967.

Terreberry, Shirley, "Thevaolution of Organizational Environments,"
Administrative Science Quarterly, 12, March, 590-613.

Timasheff, N.S., "The Sociological Theories of Maksim M. Kovalevsky,"
in Barnes, _2: Cite, 441-57, 1948.

Turner, W. Homer, "Private Sponsorship, Public Gains," in Strickland,
pp cit., 91-118, 1967.

Tybout, Richard A., "Economics of Research," in Nagi and Corwin, pp,
Cite, 129-160, 19720

255

Udell, Gilman G., ed, CrimeL Kidnaping and Prison Laws, U.S. Government
Printing Office, washington, 1976.

U.S. House of Representatives, The Federal Role in Crime and Justice
Research (House Report 95-769), Subcommittee on Domestic and
International Scientific Planning, Analysis and Cooperation
of the Committee on Science and Technology, Government Printing
Office, Washington, D.C., 1977.

------ The Use of Social Research in Federal Domestic Programs,
Research and Technical Programs Subcommittee of the Committee
on Government Operations, U.S. Government Printing Office,
washington, 1967.

------ House Subcommittee on Crime, Hearingg on LEAA, unpublished
transcripts, 7, February, Washington, 1979a.

------ House Subcommittee on Crime, Mark-up Session on LEAA Authoriza-
tion Bill, 26, April, washington, 1979b.

U.S. Senate, Senate Judiciary Hearings: Confirmation of LEAA
Administrators, unpublished transcripts, 29, September,
Washington, 1978.

 

------ Senate Judiciary Committpp Hearingg on S-24l, "The Justice
Improvement Act of 1979," unpublished transcripts, 13, March,
Washington, 1979a.

------ Senate Report, Committee Print No. 3 on S. 241, unpublished
transcripts and manuscript, 26, March, washington, 1979b.

------ Senate Report of the Committee op the Judiciary, "Justice
System Improvement Act of 1979," unpublished report, Washington,
1979c. -

Useem, Michael, "Government Influence on the Social Science Paradigm,"
Sociological Quarterly, 17, Spring, 146-61, 1976a.

------ "Government Patronage of Science and Art in America,", American
Behavioral Scientist, l9, July/August, 785-804, l976b.

------ "State Production of Social Knowledge: Patterns in Government
Financing of Academic Social Research," American Sociological
Review, 41, August, 613-29, 1976c.

----- "Legitimacy and Government Control of the Production of Academic
Knowledge," Journal of Political and Military Sociology,
4, Fall, 217-32, l976d.

256

Useem, Michael, "The Inner Group of the American Capitalist Class,"
Social Problems, 25, February, 225-40, 1978.

Useem, Michael, John S. Hoops and Thomas S. Moore, "Class and Corporate
Relations with the Private College System," Insurgent
Sociologist, 4, Summer, 27-35, 1976.

Vandevelde, Kenneth J., and Jessie L. Miller, "The Urban Grant
University Concept: A Systems Analysis," Behavioral Science,
20, September, 275-95, 1975.

 

Van Dyne, Larry, "Oil on the Campus," The Progressive, September,
33-37, 1976. '

Velde, Richard W., "Law Enforcement Assistance Administration: Programs
to Aid State and Local Agencies," Police Chief, 42, July,
49-51, 1975.

Violas, Paul C., "Academic Freedom and the Public School Teacher,
1930-1960," in Karier, pp pi,, pp, cit., 163-76, 1973.

Von Schelting, Alexander, "Review of Ideology and Utopia,"
American Sociological Review, 1, August, 664-74, 1936.

Vogel, David, "Corporations and the Left," Socialist Review, 4, October,
45-66, 1974.

 

Watson, John H III., 20 Company-Sponsored Foundations: Programs and
Policies, National Industrial Conference Board, Public Affairs,
Study No. 6 (no location), 1970.

Weick, Karl E., "Educational Organizations as Loosely Coupled Systems,"
Administrative Science Quarterly, 21, March, 1-19, 1976.

Weiss, Carol H., "Improving the Linkage Between Social Research and
Public Policy," in Lynn, pp, cit., 23-81, 1978.

Wellmer, Albrecht, Critical Theory of Society, Herder and Herder,
New York, 1971.

Wenk, Edward Jr., The Politics of the Ocean, University of Washington
Press, Seattle, 1972.

 

Wescoe, W. Clarke, "The Use of University Resources," in Connery,
_p, cit., 44-57.

White, Susan L., and Samuel Krislov, eds, Understanding Crime: An
Evaluation of the National Institute of Law Enforcement and
Criminal Justice , National Academy of Sciences, Washington, 1977.

 

257
Whitt, J. Allen, "Toward a Class-Dialectical Model of Power,"
American Sociolpgical Review , 44, February, 81-99, 1979.

Wilensky, Harold L., Organizational Intelligence: Knowledge and Policy
in Government and Industry, Basic Books, New York.

 

Willhelm, Sidney, "The Rise of State Rule: An Exploratory and
Interpretative Essay," Catalyst, IX, 1-58, 1977.

Wilson, James Q., "Violence, Pornography, and Social Science,"
Public Interest, 22, Winter, 45-61, 1971.

------ "Social Science and Public Policy: A Personal Note," in Lynn,
is c—its , 82-92, 1978 0

Wing, William, Philanthropy and the Environment, The Conservation
Foundation, Washington, 1973.

 

Wohlstetter, Albert, "Strategy and the Natural Scientists," in Gilpin

Wolff, Kurt, "The Sociology of Knowledge: Emphasis on an Empirical
Attitude," Philosophy of Science, 10, April, 104-123, 1943.

Wolff, Robert Paul, The Ideal of the University, Beacton, Boston,
1969. .

'Wood, Robert C., "Scientists and Politics: The Rise of an Apolitical
Elite," in Gilpin and Wright, _p, cit., 41-72, 1964.

Wood, Robert C., and Harriet A. Zuckerman, "The Urban Crisis," in
Connery, _p, cit, 1-14, 1970.

Wormser, Rene A., Foundations: Their Power and Influence, Devin-Adair,
New York, 1958.

 

Yefsky, S. A., ed, Law Enforcement Science and Technology, Academic
Press, London, 1967.

 

Young, Donald, "Support for Social Research," in Andrews, _p, cit.,
44-50, 1965.