91 J. Short and F. Strotbeck, Group Process and Gang Delinquency (Chicago, Chicago University Press, 1965), p. 196.
92 Miller, op. cit., p. 11. An early statement of the excitement theme in delinquency is to be found in F. Thrasher, The Gang (Chicago, University of Chicago Press, first published, 1927), ch. 5, “The Quest for New Experience.” A more current version is to be found in H. Finestone, “Cats, Kicks, and Color,” Social Problems, 5 (1957), esp. p. 5, who describes a group that combines disdain for the work world with a strong concern for the expression of coolness in the face of trouble. Similarly, the “focal concerns” that Miller imputes to lower class urban culture (trouble, toughness, smartness, excitement, fate, autonomy) seem very suited to support involvement in action.
93 H. Gans, The Urban Villagers (New York, The Free Press, 1962), p. 29. He presents a further discussion of the appeals of action on pp. 65-69. In the literature the argument is often made that adolescent males must develop and demonstrate manliness and that the search for action serves this end. It is argued in this paper that manliness is a complex of qualities better called “character,” and that it is this that must be con-sidered in the analysis of adolescent “acting out.” In any case, as Bennett Berger points out (“On the Youthfulness of Youth Culture,” Social Research, 30 [1963], 326-27), action orientation involves a concern not only for maleness but also for youth.
94 E. Hemingway, “The Dangerous Summer,” Life, September 12, i960, pp. 75-76.
95 J. L. Austin, in his “Pleas for Excuses” (Philosophical Papers, ed. J. Urmson and G. Warnock; Oxford, Oxford University Press, 1961), p. 141, discussing the various “departments into which the business of doing actions is organized,” suggests: “There is for example the stage at which we have actually to carry out some action upon which we embark—perhaps we have to make certain bodily movements or to make a speech. In the course of actually doing these things (getting weaving) we have to pay (some) attention to what we are doing and to take (some) care to guard against (likely) dangers: we may need to use judgement or tact: we must exercise sufficient control over our bodily parts: and so on. Inattention, carelessness, errors of judgement, tactlessness, clumsiness, all these and others are ills (with attendant excuses) which affect one specific stage in the machinery of action, the executive stage, the stage where we muff it.”
96 Reported by Charles McCabe, San Francisco Chronicle, June 2, 1966.
97 Winberg and Arond, op. ext., p. 462.
98 See M. Scott, Around the Track (Chicago, Aldine Books, forthcoming).
99 I am grateful to Marvin Scott for suggestions concerning the special place of integrity as a property of character.
100 S. Davis, “Chivalry on the Road,” pp. 32-33, in Beaumont and Nolan, eds., op. cit.
101 In casinos, gallantry is institutionalized and made the special right and obligation of the pit boss. Bets whose outcome is disputed are adjudicated by him, and the traditional, preferred style is gently to suggest to the customer how the fault could be or is his, and then when the dealer has been thusly cleared, to graciously allow the decision to go against the house. I have seen pit bosses thus conduct themselves when the bet was large enough to appreciably count in the table’s take for the shift. Here of course the casino itself is concerned to acquire and sustain a reputation for what in this context is called “class,” the opposite of being “cheap.” (A general treatment of organizational character is provided in P. Selznick, Leadership in Administration [White Plains, Row, Petterson, 1957], especially pp. 38-42.)
102 See W. Westley, “Violence and the Police,” American Journal of Sociology, LIX (1953), 39-40
103 Polksy, op. cit., p. 10.
104 San Francisco Chronicle, November 17, 1963.
105 H. Nicolson, Diplomacy (New York, Oxford University Press, Galaxy Books, 1964), p. 62.
106 As part of socialization, school tests may be important not because of what pupils must learn to take them but what they may learn in the taking of them. For here, at least in our society, is perhaps the most important early training in performing difficult tasks under time-limited conditions, such that lack of mental composure is likely itself to use up limited time and to further increase its own production. Interestingly, in our society formal tests requiring physical composure under difficult circumstances seem to come much later in life, when at all.
107 A consideration of this issue is given in B. Glaser and A. Strauss, Awareness of Dying (Chicago, Aldine, 1965, ch. 13, “Awareness and the Nurses Composure”), pp. 226-56.
108 Dignity can make news. Thus a Sun-Times release (with picture) April 17, 1953: “Viviane Romance, French screen star who refused to let actor spit in her face and curse her in movie scene, was fined $11,428 for breach of contract in Paris. Star said action was ‘beneath my dignity.’” A nice example of conduct some would think undignified may be found in Lillian Ross’s Picture (New York, Dolphin Books, 1962), wherein she describes the menial tasks that Albert Band apparently performed as the assistant to John Huston and Gottfried Reinhardt. See especially pp. 32-57, 91-97.
109 Black, op. cit., p. 118.
110 Yet contemporary coolness seems to have a shading all its own. The phrasing employed assumes that although coolness is a personal trait, the possessor is in an estranged relation to it, since retaining it will always be problematic. Just as a wallet can be lost, so can one’s cool. Also, the term is extended to cover not merely involvement in disruptive matters but involvement in anything at all—on the assumption apparently that for those whose social position is vulnerable, any concern for anything can be misfortunate, indifference being the only defensible tack. Finally, in the phrase “to cool it,” an injunction is conveyed against behavior that might excite undesired response from others and hence, by extension, increase the threat to one’s own situation and in consequence one’s own cool.
111 See D. Mannix, Memoirs of a Sword Swallower (New York, Ballantine Books, 1964), pp. 94-9$.
112 J. Atholl, Shadow of the Gallows (London, John Long, 1954)> P- 77- The history of executions is typically written in evolutionary terms, starting with cruel deaths accorded for many crimes and moving to our time when humane death is administered for very few crimes, and there is much pressure to abolish the death penalty entirely. Actually, the history of executions could better be written in interaction terms, for the evolution of executionary techniques has largely to do with the development of devices and practices for ensuring a smooth social occasion. Given that the audience, the executioner, and the victim will all be on edge, how can the deed be managed so as to facilitate the self-containment of all three types of participants? The history of executionary practices is the story of the slowly accumulating answer. Take the art of hanging for example. Gallows came to be developed which could be erected silently overnight in the prison yard in order to minimize gruesome sights and sounds; a “table of drops” according to weight and condition of the neck so that the length of the free fall would neither leave a man to wriggle nor tear off his head but nicely break his neck—a knot and type of cord being designed to facilitate this adjustment; arm pinions to prevent the man from obstructing the fall; and trap doors sure to hold until the cord was pulled, sure to open quickly once it had, and (in one of the nicest touches of all) designed not to bang back and forth in doleful reverberation of the fall.
It can be argued that the humaneness of the execution ought hardly to be significant for the victim, since the question of how one is shortly to be dispatched might well be considered of no importance compared to the fact that one is about to be dispatched. Only those who are left behind can take comfort that lasts in knowing that the end was practically painless and that no one enjoyed the terrible business of arranging it and witnessing it.
113 A. Kershaw, A History of the Guillotine (London, John Calder, 1958 ), p. 71.
114 Of course it is not only children who can be poor sports and lose their equanimity and hence their character when a game is lost. As
a female chess expert tells it: "In one game, a player from the Netherlands suddenly had her queen snipped off the board by a Russian. She ran off the stage in tears." (Miss Lisa Lane quoted in "Talk of the Town," The New Yorker, September 19, 1964, p. 43.)
115 Correlated with the trend toward "humane" dispatch there has been a decline in the demands for grace and character that we place upon the doomed. In the gas chamber in American prisons, the victim may be requested to breathe deeply soon after the cyanide drops, but no one would ask him to present a dying speech in the manner that was customary in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. (On dying speeches see Atholl, op. ext., p. 56.)
116 Brown, op. cit., p. 211.
117 W. James, “The Moral Equivalent of War,” in his Essays on Faith and Morals (New York, Meridian Books, 1962), P- 323.
118 Polsky, op. cit., p. g.
119 A. Biderman, “Social-Psychological Needs and Involuntary Behavior as Illustrated by Compliance in Interrogation,” Sociometry, 23 (i960), 138-39. A further statement is presented in E. Goffman, Asylums (New York, Doubleday Anchor Books, 1961), pp. 89-90.
120 For example, Hemingway, Death, op. ext., p. 89.
121 J. Leach, “Unseated by Nerves,” The Observer, March 3, 1963.
122 Hemingway, Death, p. 222.
123 Execution practice is one illustration. See, for example, A Keller, ed., The Hangman’s Diary (London, Philip Allen, 1928), p. 8, under the phrase, stärkenden Trunk.
124 This argument has recently been made in connection with the risk entailed in extramarital sexual relations and in gang fights. See F. Strodtbeck and J. Short, “Aleatory Risks Versus Short-run Hedonism in Explanation of Gang Action,” Social Problems, 12 (1964), 127-40.
125 See the argument by C. Fried, “Reason and Action,” Natural Law Forum, Vol. 11 (1966), pp. 13-35.
126 The leading case here is the sixteenth-century duel of honor. A gentleman stood by his honor, but only a small number of others were socially qualified to oblige him to satisfy his honor by means of a duel, and then, of course, the problems of arranging mutually satisfactory time, place, and equipment were so great that in countries like England few duels actually did get fought. See F. Bryson, The Point of Honor in Sixteenth-Century Italy: An Aspect of the Life of the Gentleman (Publications of the Institute of French Studies, Inc., Columbia University, New York, 1935); Baldick, op. cit.
127 Tellers have foiled bank robberies by simply refusing to take seriously the threat-note to them by would-be armed robbers. Similarly policemen have countered pistol threats against themselves by simply turning their backs on the gunman, thereby removing the basis for contest. (See San FranCisco Chronicle, July 26, 1965, p. 3, “Cop Turns His Back—And Disarms a Gunman.”)
128 Traditional duels were more complex because of the choice-of-weapons rule. Were the offended party to challenge the offender to a duel the latter would ordinarily have the choice of weapons, an unfair advantage for someone who had already done wrong. And so the offended party would openly insult the offender, “giving him the lie,” and with this provocation the original offender would then be forced to challenge the offended. Through this extensive cooperation, choice of weapon could be lodged on the right side.
129 Suggested by P. Bourdieu, “The Sentiment of Honour in Kabyle Society,” p. 200, in Peristiany, op. ext.
130 A fictionalized presentation of the vehicular chicken run may be found in G. Elliott, Parktilden Village (New York, Signet Books, 1961), pp. 42-43. An elegant analytical treatment is provided by T. C. Schelling, Arms and Influence (New Haven, Yale University Press, 1966), pp. 116-25. Note that before the game can be played, persons must know how the equipment accessible to them can be used for this purpose. Some middle-class boys don’t know that a lit cigarette butt held between the sides of the hands of two different boys until it burns down to the flesh provides perfect facilities for the game. (The first one to draw his hand away loses, of course, and automatically terminates the trial for both of them.) The breath-holding contest seems more widely known.
131 One of the reasons unexpected rescues are employed in action stories is that only in this way can the hero be given a chance to demonstrate that even in the face of quite hopeless odds he will not cry uncle. Second leads are allowed to prove this the hard way, being expendable in the plot.
132 San Francisco Chronicle, July 14, 1966.
133 F. Ikle How Nations Negotiate (New York, Harper & Row, 1964), p. i64ff. See also Bourdieu, p. 207, in Peristiany, op. cit.
134 J. Short and F. Strodtbeck, “Why Gangs Fight,” Transaction, I (1964), 26.
135 This strange fateful trust in the fair-play of the just-defeated enemy has an obvious social function. Without this trust, dominance and the pecking order would not provide a practical social mechanism for establishing temporary order. Were opponents to re-contest a run-in as soon as it had been played through, no order could be established. Everyone would always be engaged either in fighting or in carefully standing guard. In any case, one finds “terminal self-exposure” on the part of the winner as a standard move in ending a wide variety of contests—wrestling matches, bullfights, cowboy duels, etc.
136 The Memoirs of Jacques Casanova, tr. A. Machen (New York, Dover Publications, 1961 ), vol. 2, p. 958.
137 L. Yablonsky (The Violent Gang [New York, Macmillan, 1962], pp. 208-9), in describing types of gang members, describes the logical extreme: “. . . Other youths who may be included in the category of marginal gang membership are the sociopathic individuals almost always ready to fight with any available gang. They seek out violence or provoke it simply as they describe it: “for kicks or action.” They are not necessarily members of any particular violent gang, yet are in some respects members of all. They join gangs because for them it is a convenient and easily accessible opportunity for violence. When the gang, as an instrument, is not appropriate they “roll their own” form of violence (for example, the three stomp slayers who kicked a man to death for “whistling a song we didn’t like”). For example, in one typical pattern utilized by this type of gang boy, he will approach a stranger with the taunt, “What did you say about my mother?” An assault is then delivered upon the victim before he can respond to the question, which, of course, has no appropriate answer for preventing the attack.”
138 Although these various “put-on’s” are directed against an individual, he will often serve in part as a symbol of a wider group—the adult world, police authority, white people, etc.
139 W. Sansom, The Cautious Heart (New York, Reynal and Company, 1958), pp. 100-2.
140 Sometimes called “walking pimp.” On this and other collapsed moves employed by delinquents, see the useful study by C. Werthman, Delinquency and Authority, M.A. Thesis, Dept. of Sociology, University of California, Berkeley, 1964, p. 115, and throughout chapter LV, “Gang Members and the Police.”
141 See Lucius Beebe, The Big Spenders (New York, Double-day, 1966), p. 85.
142 These acts of insolence and pointed insubordination are to be contrasted to bodily acts of deference, acts which are specialized too, but which serve to attest to the actor’s current willingness to accept the status quo.
143 Bryson, op. ext., ch. IV. As suggested, the offended party could not challenge the offender because this would give the offender the choice of weapons. Offenders were thus tacitly assumed to be honorable enough to allow themselves to be maneuvered into the challenger role.
144 An incident of this kind is described in Werthman, op. cit.y pp. 68-69.
145 See the treatment of “obedience tests” in Goffman, Asylums, op. ext., pp. 17-18.
146 Short and Strodtbeck, “Why Gangs Fight,” op. cit., pp. 27-28. See also their, “The Response of Gang Leaders to Status Threats,” American Journal of Sociology, LXVIII (1963), 576-77. A literary example is provided in Louis Auchincloss’s novel, Sybil (New York, Signet Books, 1953), pp. 122-23. A man (Philip) at his club with his mistress draws an acquaintance (Nicholas Cummings) aside and asks if
he would like to meet her. Nicholas declines, and the following dialogue occurs:
“You’d better watch your step, Cummings,” he said ominously. “You’re talking about the young lady whom I intend to marry.”
But Nicholas simply continued to fix him with his chilly stare.
“It’s hard for people to know that, isn’t it,” he inquired, “when you’re still married to my cousin?”
There was a weighty pause.
“Well, anyway,” Philip said heavily, not knowing what honor might require in so awkward a situation, “you’d better cut those cracks about Julia. Unless you want your block knocked off.”
Nicholas, however, was remorseless.
“Do you regard the term ‘mistress’ as a ‘crack’?” he demanded. “I’m sorry. I had thought it accurate. You’re not going to deny that she is your mistress, are you? Because I should tell you that as your wife’s lawyer, although in no way at her instigation, I have made it my business to find out exactly what your relationship with Miss Anderson is. The word ‘mistress’ appears to cover it exactly. Can you suggest a better? At any rate I must insist on my right so to describe her whenever I have occasion to discuss your affairs with those who may be concerned. If you object, you are at liberty to seek redress, either legally in a slander suit or illegally, as you threaten, in an assault upon my person.”
Philip’s breath was now coming in pants. There was no rule for handling a person who so boldly defied the most elementary precepts of good fellowship.
“Would you like to step outside,” he demanded, “and settle this thing like a gentleman?”
“I most certainly would not,” Nicholas replied. “I have not come to my club to give you an opportunity to start a brawl in the street.”
Philip stood there for a moment more, looking at him un-certainly.
“Oh, go to hell,” he retorted. “God damn lawyers,” he answered as he moved away. “Shysters. All of them.”
147 Brown, op. cit., pp. 211, 253-56, 261, provides a nice description of ways in which Harlem youth in the 1930s and ’40s were taught the necessity to defend their money and their women with lethal fighting, and how, in the ’5os in conjunction with the rising significance of drugs, the coercive power of the code declined markedly. This is but a small version of larger histories. The duel of honor, for example, while very popular in France, very rarely occurred in the Northern States, being muchly disapproved by the citizenry. In England, in 1844, the article of the Mutiny Act which obliged officers to uphold their honor by dueling was repealed and replaced by ones that forbade it. The third of the new articles nicely outlines the modern anti-umbrage perspective:
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