Living on the Edge - A Review

There is plenty that is not right in America right now. Political divisions are leading to violence and hatred among people with opposing views. The middle class is shrinking as more people move into upper tiers of income, leaving some members of society behind. Debates about race rage on, with insults hurled on every side, and little hope of resolution. There is a lack of respect for the struggling class and sometimes sheer hatred for those that have done better financially.

Sociologist Celine-Marie Pascale attempts to find the solution to these problems and present them in her book, Living on the Edge: When Hard Times Become a Way of Life.

There are several underlying premises in the book that shape her results. First, she believes that the economy is a fixed size, so that when some people have more it necessarily comes at the expense of those who have less. (xii) This, of course, sets the course for the necessary solution. The chief problem she finds is not access to economic on-ramps but distribution of resources. Second, that the existence of poverty “has not happened by accident,” but “It is the result of decades of collusion between business and government to maximize corporate profits at the expense of workers.” (x) As a result, as the author describes her project, “Ultimately, it is a book about power that has been leveraged by government and corporations at the expense of ordinary people.” (xi)

The book is a mix of quantitative analysis and personal interviews. It is to Pascale’s credit that she traveled to Appalachia and other economically disadvantaged areas to actually meet people and find out how they lived.  Along the way, Pascale uncovers a number of unfortunate structural problems in society. For example, as she notes, “in many communities it is impossible to hold a job if you don’t own a car.” (1) This, of course, puts those on the hairy edge of subsistence in constant jeopardy, because a deer crossing the road, a bad transmission, or a careless driver can jeopardize employment and financial stability. Pascale also attempts to discuss the issue of class prejudice, which is an often-neglected element in these discussions. But it is apparent to many on the bottom end of the economic latter that, whatever the rhetoric, the upper classes despise them. The book is to be commended for recognizing these challenges.

At the same time, Pascale’s attempt to make this a mix on anecdote and analysis ends up undermining her case and displaying her own prejudices against the people she is studying. A few examples:

To take a break from driving, I stop at a shop in a small town in Tennessee. The shop keeper greets me and proudly explains that her store belongs to God. ‘I just mind it for him,’ she says with a great smile. Before I could blink twice, we are in a conversation about faith and I am asking about her relationship to the Bible.

‘The Bible—start to finish—is the word of God.”

‘Old Testament and New?’

‘Yes, word for word.’

I’m a little unsettled by this, but not surprised.

Pascale—a Buddhist—then goes out of her way to ask highly speculative questions about the nature of a soul and then critiques the woman because “she seems less certain and her answers grow vague.” (64)

It’s not the account or making religion a part of the interview that is striking—that is certainly a part of good sociological research—but it is Pascale’s obvious bias. How does someone go into Appalachia with the intent to interview folks and not understand some of the basic beliefs of evangelical Christianity—for example, that the Bible is the word of God? And then to be willing to express that one is “unsettled” by this entirely ordinary belief? And then to follow this with an account of digging into a complex philosophical question about the soul to emphasize that the shop keeper was not was well educated in philosophy as the author seems odd. There is a patronizing tone to many of these anecdotes.

In another personal interjection into the analysis, Pascale records her observations while driving in the South, while driving near the site of several Civil War Battles, along the Blue-Gray Highway. She writes, “Although I don’t see mention of the battles, I count three Confederate flags on this stretch of road – fewer than I has expected. Even so, I find them unnerving. Carried today by white supremacists on their marches, the flag is an emblem of the Confederacy and feels like a warning.” (18)

In the context, this memory serves no purpose in advancing the author’s argument. It seems an honest reflection on her experience along her journey, but it also reflects why Pascale’s work does not result in truly helpful analysis along the methods she has chosen. One need not defend the flying of a Confederate flag to recognize that symbols may convey messages we may not understand and which may not be as nefarious as we would like to portray them. Pascale never explores that possibility or the social dynamics that might drive someone to rebel against the genteel classes by flying the Confederate battle flag considering race.

There are other examples that show Pascale is too disconnected from the people she seeks to help to be properly diagnostic, as when she gets into a tense, racial confrontation with a gas station attendant (who may have been its owner) because she does not understand how to pump her gasoline. (30-31) But toward the end of the confrontation, the man expressed distaste for Trump—his “white president” as she calls him—and frustration at the political class, so she expressed hope that she is “on his side of the fence now.” Unexplored in this account—and likely the really interesting question—is whether the man’s underlying frustration that led to a comment about the blackness of the “former Black president” was driven by poorly considered regulation by the Obama administration. Perhaps it was those regulations that cost the man a great deal of money by forcing him to get new pumps that were likely more complex and expensive than needed. The world will not know, because Pascale inserted herself into the story rather than doing the investigation.

Living on the Edge tackles a worthy topic. There are certainly a large number of people who are in economic strait jackets due to systemic injustices of various sorts. Pascale presents the conspiracy theory that “decades of collusion between business and government” have caused all of the problems of the poor. Her proposal is to expand government social programs, eliminate the Electoral College to increase the power of urban centers over Appalachia, and other proposals borrowed from the talking points from the populist Left. There is nothing innovative about her solutions.

The book ends where it began, which comes as little surprise to those that read the preface. There is little new ground covered—new stories, but very few new nuggets of thoughtful analysis—and mainly an attempt to embolden the already convinced.

Pascale concludes the book with the statement: “Regaining a democracy will mean ending the exploitation of the many by the few. With vision, effort, and some luck, it will be a win for the people of the country. It is past time that ‘liberty and justice for all’ actually means something.” (232)

To the reader who believes there is a significant problem with poverty and stagnation of classes, but who sees different solutions, this book offers very little helpful analysis. It’s hard to take someone seriously who claims to be speaking for a class of people who she so poorly understands and seems to respect so little.

Though Pascale tries to establish her poverty street cred with a brief story about her impoverished childhood (1-2), what comes through in this book is a naturalist trying to study a common species by stopping in their habitat to take a few notes, then rushing back to her office to slip the evidence back into the argument that had already been drawn up. This book reminds me of overhearing some well-dressed youngsters drinking Starbucks drinks discussing how “bougie” someone was for asking them not to break in line at the post office—there is a disconnect between reality and self-perception.

In the end, Pascale fails to explain how granting more centralized control to the entities that she claims are colluding against people helps the people being colluded against. She does not explain why removing political power from more rural states and concentrating it in densely populated areas—the areas that will be best served by concentrated government power—advances representative democracy and serves better the people she will effectively disempower. One may share Pascale’s concerns over “exploitation of the many by the few” and recognize that her solutions would simply make matters worse.

Living on the Edge: When Hard Times Become a Way of Life

By Pascale, Celine-Marie

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

Radical Help - A Review

Marvin Olasky’s 1992 book, The Tragedy of American Compassion, reframed the way many Americans thought about welfare and compassion. Toward the end of the century that promised to bring utopia to the shores of North America through the New Deal and the Great Society, poverty continued to persist and, at times, threatened to upend society. Throughout the twentieth century, the United States invested billions of dollars in government programs, especially those at the federal level, designed to bring an end to poverty for good.

Looking around, many people recognized that the ever-growing network of programs and promises were not having the desired effect. Olasky’s book proved to be a catalyst for many to rethink their expectations for government poverty relief. The basic thesis of his book is that community solutions have been much more effective at poverty alleviation than impersonal government programs. His theory has largely been met with antipathy from progressives, affirmation from many conservatives, and skepticism by many between.

To some, the problem of poverty is too widespread and too significant for local solutions. Person-to-person charitable efforts are well-intentioned and often beneficial, but cannot hope to solve the needs of the poor. That is the argument made by many proponents of the growth of centralized welfare programs. However, it is less clear to many people that expanding existing programs or creating new offerings with the same bureaucratic model can achieve a better outcome.

In her recent book, Radical Help, Hilary Cottam challenges the expansion of centrally planned model of government poverty alleviation. Writing from progressive perspective, Cottam makes an argument that will sound familiar and welcome to conservative ears: The most effective means of poverty alleviation is the development of community.

Determined to do something practical about the problem of poverty, Cottam set to work redesigning portions of the welfare system in the United Kingdom. She challenged the status quo by asking a profound question of workers within a number of social programs: Who has been helped by your social program so that they are no longer enmeshed in the welfare system?

The inability of any program to show a single family that had been freed from the shackles of poverty through the work of the state led Cottam to conclude, “We had hoped for safety nets that would give us the weft and propulsion of a trampoline but instead we are woven into a tight trap.”

Radical Help documents five experiments that Cottam conducted in an attempt to uncover alternative solutions to poverty alleviation. Four of the five have been deemed successes. All five have in common that they rely on the individuals receiving help to drive the change, that the solutions are locally centered, and that they leverage technology as a means to coordinate human connection rather than as a replacement for it.

The first experiment allowed particular families to coordinate the host of poverty alleviation services they required to chart a course out of poverty. Instead of working with a wide range of social workers from a dozen different government programs, the Family Life experiment allowed a family to pick what help they would get, chart their own course, and get the help they needed to actually make it out of poverty. While this program was expensive in the short term, it reduced the long-term costs by getting multiple families in the experiment off the welfare rolls.

The second experiment helped teens find meaning and purpose by putting them into short-term internships in local businesses. These voluntary programs were coordinated using social technologies and gave teens a glimpse of a world outside the local recreation center. Although the program was scuttled due to the perceived risk of coordinating contact between minors and adults, it illustrates the power of a social network.

Experiment #3 replaced the queues of the unemployment office with a small support group filled with employed, underemployed, and unemployed individuals. Rather than seeking the first possible placement, the Good Work program looked for ways to motivate the unmotivated, focus the undirected, and assist the willing to make personal connections to make progress toward a vocation, not merely a job. Cottam notes that the idea of work as merely a means of earning bread is insufficient, which leads many of the unemployed to bounce from one dead end job to another.

The fourth experiment challenged the idea that the best solution to the stress on the National Health Service (NHS) is simply to dump in more money. Cottam rightly notes that the majority of medical spending is used treat chronic diseases like diabetes, which are often caused and exacerbated by lifestyle choices. The bureaucratic systems of the NHS was designed in industrial fashion to deal with punctiliar events like providing pregnancy services, solving medical emergencies, and performing needed surgeries. Cottam created the Wellogram project, which put healthcare professionals in direct and durable contact with people. By listening to people, asking follow up questions, and getting to know them, the healthcare professionals were able to help people improve their overall health, which in turn reduced their need for expensive medical interventions over a sustained period.

Cottam’s final experiment was designed to serve the aged. Her team created the Circle program, which she describes as “part social club, part concierge service, and part cooperative self-help group.” The basic function of the program was to break down the isolation in communities by putting people, particularly the elderly, in contact with others with similar interests. It also enabled willing volunteers to help their hidden neighbors by doing small things, like picking up groceries; there are many willing people who simply lacked the personal connections to perform these simple services for others. The Circle program used a basic technological platform to help people to help other people––technology was a means to the desired end, not the solution to the problem.

Each of the programs listed above used grants from the government, but relied on localized implementations to create contextual solutions to pervasive dehumanization caused by relational poverty. Cottam’s approach reminds us that we were designed for community, and those programs that encourage personal relationships tend to enhance flourishing in ways that a blank check never will. The goal was not to eliminate all government action for the poor, but to leverage government resources efficiently to accomplish the intended purpose.

As it becomes increasingly apparent that America’s welfare system is ineffective in winning the war on poverty, Cottam’s approach of innovating local solutions with a relational focus may provide a way forward for those who genuinely desire to help the poor, but recognize the devastating social impact of impersonal bureaucratic poverty alleviation strategies.

Radical Help: How we can remake the relationships between us and revolutionize the welfare state

By Hilary Cottam

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Note: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.