Ritual, Emotion, Violence

Studies on the Micro-Sociology of Randall Collins

Elliott B. Weininger, Annette Lareau, Omar Lizardo, Elliott B. Weininger, Annette Lareau, Omar Lizardo

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2018
• Print ISBN: 9781138614277
• eBook ISBN: 9780429874772
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

Microsociologists seek to capture social life as it is experienced, and in recent decades no one has championed the microsociological approach more fiercely than Randall Collins. The pieces in this exciting volume offer fresh and original insights into key aspects of Collins' thought, and of microsociology more generally.

The introductory essay by Elliot B. Weininger and Omar Lizardo provides a lucid overview of the key premises this perspective. Ethnographic papers by Randol Contreras, using data from New York, and Philippe Bourgois and Laurie Kain Hart, using data from Philadelphia, examine the social logic of violence in street-level narcotics markets. Both draw on heavily on Collins' microsociological account of the features of social situations that tend to engender violence.

In the second section of the book, a study by Paul DiMaggio, Clark Bernier, Charles Heckscher, and David Mimno tackles the question of whether electronically mediated interaction exhibits the ritualization which, according to Collins, is a common feature of face-to-face encounters. Their results suggest that, at least under certain circumstances, digitally mediated interaction may foster social solidarity in a manner similar to face-to-face interaction. A chapter by Simone Polillo picks up from Collins' work in the sociology of knowledge, examining multiple ways in which social network structures can engender intellectual creativity.

The third section of the book contains papers that critically but sympathetically assess key tenets of microsociology. Jonathan H. Turner argues that the radically microsociological perspective developed by Collins will better serve the social scientific project if it is embedded in a more comprehensive paradigm, one that acknowledges the macro- and meso-levels of social and cultural life. A chapter by David Gibson presents empirical analyses of decisions by state leaders concerning whether or not to use force to deal with internal or external foes, suggesting that Collins' model of interaction ritual can only partially illuminate the dynamics of these highly consequential political moments. Work by Erika Summers-Effler and Justin Van Ness seeks to systematize and broaden the scope of Collins' theory of interaction, by including in it encounters that depart from the ritual model in important ways.

In a final, reflective chapter, Randall Collins himself highlights the promise and future of microsociology. Clearly written, these pieces offer cutting-edge thinking on some of the crucial theoretical and empirical issues in sociology today.

Part One

Forward Panics in the Underground Economy

1

Que Duro!

Street Violence in the South Bronx

Randol Contreras

Introduction

Ethnographic images of street violence are often set within declining blue-collar work and rising poverty—with men searching for, campaigning for, and needing more respect in spaces such as the street, the bar, the drug den, and the home (Bourgois 2003; Anderson 1999). Perceived slights and losses of manhood—all then lead to violence for dignity’s sake. These images, though, are blurred: they do not focus on the emotional aspects of violence, or how opponents manage their emotions before a fight. Because within the context of in-the-moment interpretations, opponents play an emotional chess match, one determining who does violence or not.

In groundbreaking work, Randall Collins (2008) analyzes emotional energy in violent situations. He argues that the opponent who maintains emotional dominance—who siphons an opponent’s emotional energy, who uses emotional momentum to their advantage—can do violence on a target. In fact, people cannot do violence if the emotional dynamics fail to line up. Thus violence rarely happens, and only a few individuals can do it competently.

In light of this, I will use Collins’ theory to understand violence in a South Bronx neighborhood. In my previous field research, I analyzed the violence of Dominican drug robbers, especially as it related to the rise and fall of crack-cocaine (Contreras 2013).¹ In this chapter, I extend the analysis to street violence in this South Bronx neighborhood, a few blocks north of Yankee Stadium. I observed how individuals, even drug market participants, often avoided it, with only one or two of them willing to go beyond threats and bluster. The latter formed what Collins refers to as the “violent elite,” or the small percentage of people who can do competent violence. In all, I found that the rising and falling tides of emotions between opponents determined whether violence occurred.

In the next section, I briefly review the popular ethnographic literature on urban violence and expand on Collins’ emotional theory of violence. Afterward, I analyze my street observations of violence-related situations through the dynamics of emotional energy. I also discuss the “violent elite” in making violence happen. Last, I discuss the importance of emotional dynamics in understanding urban violence and crime.

Ethnographies of Street Violence in the United States

In a powerful ethnographic account, Bourgois analyzes the lives of Puerto Rican crack dealers in Spanish Harlem (2003). He argues that the manufacturing sector’s decline has left these poor and working-class Puerto Rican men without a medium to demonstrate their manhood. The rising service economy provides little fix since it expects submissiveness and conformity, which clashes with their working-class, masculine habitus. These men then take to the streets, resisting mainstream values, championing drug use and dealing, and doing violence to protect their drug turf. They also raise their violence at home, beating wives and girlfriends who disobey their patriarchal orders. In the end, their violence and drug use spiral out of control, which undermines their aspirations for traditional manhood-related respect.

Anderson (1999) similarly contextualizes the violence found in Philadelphia’s poor African American community. However, he emphasizes how Black residents have lost faith in formal institutions, such as the police, for justice and protection. A “code of the street” then takes hold, especially among young Black men, which is based on “respect” in public spaces. Now, a perceived slight or insult, from an accidental bump to a direct confrontation, can escalate into violence. Violence often erupts since potential victims do not want to become future targets. Thus, Black men often present themselves as hard—a warning to potential wrongdoers that they will be met with violence (see also Anderson 1992).

In a rare account, Nikki Jones (2010) shows that, like the boys, some Black girls in Philadelphia “campaign” for respect through violence. These girls grow up in rough neighborhoods and unstable families because of economic dislocation. The “code,” then, impacts them too, with some girls using violence to address perceived wrongs. Even the “good girls,” who focus on school and work, subscribe to the “code.” If confronted, they return the challenge; they want to avoid shame and future victimization.

Only a few other ethnographers deal directly with street violence. For instance, Timothy Black (2009) follows the life course of three Puerto Rican brothers in Springfield, Massachusetts. He brilliantly shows how the region’s decline in manufacturing work influenced them to become drug dealers, then gang members, and then drug abusers, all of which landed them in prison. Yet Black does not delve into the micro-interactional elements of violence. In my work (Contreras 2013), I come closer, showing how a violent status, which is gained through street violence, helps drug robbers avoid being short-changed or victimized by their accomplices. When I do explain the emotions in violence, it is only in the realm of drug robbery torture, or in the physical harm of drug-dealing victims. For that analysis, I used Collins’ theory of violence, which I will use again to analyze street violence at my South Bronx field site. But first, I must describe Collins’ micro theory of violence.

Doing Violence

In a comprehensive examination of violence, Collins (2008) argues that doing mano-a-mano violence is hard.² For most people, this act contradicts human emotional entrainment, or the human tendency to align in positive solidarity. So while individuals or groups can oppose each other, they mostly do so in words or ideas. Individual violence is duro y algo raro, the ultimate act against the human emotional grain.

These patterns can be seen in war. This is why many combat soldiers rarely fire; miss close enemy targets; and cower rather than shoot back. This is why the closer the enemy—yes, even to the point of touching—the less likely an immediate kill: they will grapple and wrestle, but will not kill. They will use rifles as clubs, but will not shoot. They will momentarily stare at each other—and run, fast.

Violence, though, is easy from a distance. It is easier to flip a grenade into an enemy foxhole; shoot mortars and shells from several hundred yards away; drop bombs from a bomber plane—and from an ocean away, give orders to destroy an enemy, to kill them on sight; from a political pulpit, call for a war to show the nation’s size and might. Yet place an enemy within ten yards … a cloud of dust. So doing personal violence is hard, even for those trained in combat.

Collins argues that high tension and fear prevent most people from committing face-to-face violence. This state resembles a spinning coin in a deadly game of heads and tails: heads—I fight; tails—I back down, run. And as the coin spins the tension and suspense builds…

Mostly, the coin lands on “tails,” with both parties falling into complete fear. The fearful individual or group now has low emotional energy, or a dead battery of will to do face-to-face harm. And the human tendency is to run, walk, or even crawl away when confronted with doing violence. (The great generals throughout history took note of this phenomenon and developed tight, rigid battle formations—like the Roman and Greek Phalanxes—to enclose soldiers and force them forward.)

But sometimes a lightning-inspired breeze knocks one coin onto “heads.” A unit, a troop, or an entire battalion becomes suddenly enraged, blood-thirsty, and roars, killing every enemy combatant in sight. Some even massacre civilian men, women, and children, despite pleas for mercy and impassioned cries of Why? Why? Some even kill farm animals, stabbing and shooting them, the substitutes for absent humans taking flight. And others burn down entire villages, flaming every hut and house, obliterating to ashes any traces of human existence. Soldiers, who moments before were afraid of doing violence, have suddenly become Killing Machines.

The riddle: How do soldiers, who feared inflicting one-on-one violence, become “monsters,” suddenly slashing and shooting and burning every breathing soul?

The answer: they have channeled their tension and fear into positive emotional energy.

Collins notes that through a decisive twist in battle, like a collapse in enemy lines, the confrontational tension/fear is resolved. Sensing enemy weakness, soldiers channel the tension/fear into a collective, emotional rush forward. Thus, a “forward panic” arises, where the following factors lead to an emotional charge: a long period of anticipation, a collapse in enemy strength, and a sense of enemy disadvantage. Sometimes it has nothing to do with numerical or physical strength, but with emotional momentum. So face-to-face violence occurs mostly when an opponent is weak—when they are surrendering, pleading, head bowed, arms up, showing deference. (Ironic twist: the great generals and commanders have had equal trouble in stopping the frenzied killings of soldiers in a forward panic.)

In great depth, Collins argues that this phenomenon also occurs on the street, in bars, in homes, in schools, and in sports. Upon confrontation, rarely do evenly matched opponents do violence. Lots of bluster, or threats of doing violence, is the essence of most confrontations (i.e., It’s best not to mess with me!). Violence only happens when one side is overwhelmed (i.e., five Dodger baseball fans encircle a lone Giants fan, or a bar patron backtracks in an argument). True, both parties experience tension/fear. However, the overpowering party converts it into a “forward panic.” Thus, most violence has to do with the emotional surge after gaining leverage in the conflict.

Just as important is what Collins calls the “violent elite,” or the small segment of society that can do “competent violence.” He argues that these individuals do not have to wait until an opponent crumples under the mounting tension/fear or see weakness to gain the emotional advantage. Rather they know how to siphon an opponent’s emotional energy through strategic acts and words. This knowledge, which is the street equivalent of a post-secondary education, allows them to not only do violence but also take the violent lead. And they were not born with this skill; they learned it through preparation and practice.

This violent elite, Collins observes, can be found across society. For instance, they can be the Cowboy cops on a police force, or the small percentage of police that can do violence. Cowboys are leaders: they take charge in dangerous missions, learn the most about policing, lift a department’s morale, and gain the most peer respect. They also account for the highest performance evaluations—and the highest use of excessive force.

Collins argues that their success at violence is due to learned abilities, not natural instincts. For instance, they are usually police veterans, who face much violence and diligently hone offensive skills (like repeated target and martial arts practice). As a result, they learn how to deflate an opponent and turn that emotional loss into their own emotional high. Yet they also depend on the group, the teammates taking on ancillary roles. For instance, a cop rushing into danger often has “backup,” the peers who later commend them, congratulate them, on a violence well done. Clearly, other officers do shoot and beat up suspects; however, the Cowboys are still responsible for the most violence. They are the few individuals who understand emotional dominance and can lead the violence while sustaining an emotional charge.

Next, I use Collins’ theory of violence to show how emotional dynamics shaped violence on the streets. To do so, I analyze two incidents that demonstrate how street violence often depends on whether opponents can create or manipulate the situation’s emotional energy or momentum. I will also show how street violence often depends on the guidance of an emotional leader, or a member of the “violent elite.”

Methodology

Between 1999 and 2003, and then intermittently between 2003 and 2009, I conducted field research in a South Bronx neighborhood, a few blocks north of Yankee Stadium. Here, I observed Dominican “stickup kids,” or drug robbers who brutally robbed upper-level drug dealers storing large amounts of drugs and cash. Most of them were first and second generation Dominicans, and in their mid-twenties to early thirties. Two of my study participants, “Gus” and “Pablo,” vouched for me and gave me entry into the world of drug robbers. Gus, who had been in and out of prison frequently, had a reputation for being “crazy” or violent. Pablo, who was once a successful drug dealer, had a wide range of drug market contacts.

However, I had already known many of the neighborhood drug market participants beforehand: I had grown up with them. We had gone to the same schools and hung out at the same nightclubs; we had experienced street violence together; and we had drug-dealing family members who built luxury estates in the Dominican Republic. More important, I had once participated in the crack trade. So I had intimate knowledge of the drug market, which gave me a running start in understanding the lives of my study participants.³

As to field research, I hung out on the block three to four days a week, between 4 and 8 hours a day. Though I interviewed and observed close to thirty individuals, I focused on the lives of six main study participants. This made it easier to heed the call of C. Wright Mills, who insisted on the integration of history, biography, and social structure to understand the social world. Observing a small group, then, allowed me to make clear connections between their biographies and shifts in both the legal economy and illegal drug market.

Before moving on, I must say the following: though ethnography is notable for its “participatory” element, I did not observe or participate in any drug robberies. I gathered the drug robbery data through the stories that these men told me as we hung out on the block, in restaurants, bars, strip clubs, and on walks and sometimes drives throughout the Bronx. The only violence or potential violence that I observed occurred on the street. Even then, as I show later, most of the study participants struggled to do street violence.

Que Duro: Doing Violence Is So Hard

Like Collins, I found that a difference exists between presenting oneself as capable of violence and having the ability to do violence. And while a “code of the street” did exist, it was not always enacted. Most residents in rough neighborhoods simply could not wield violence on a whim. Emotions mattered. Creating an emotional surge mattered more.

For instance, one summer night Gus, Pablo, Topi, Neno, and I were hanging out by the neighborhood bodega, or grocery store. We basked in the energy of the merengue and salsa music that the bodega blasted from a speaker set up outside. We also drank heavily, first beer and then rum mixed with various fruit juices. Pablo drank the most and began his first phase of drunk...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• List of Tables, Figures, and Map
• Acknowledgements
• List of Contributors
• Introduction
• Part One Forward Panics in the Underground Economy
• Part Two Entrainment and Creativity
• Part Three The Theoretical Context of Interaction Ritual Chains
• Part Four The Micro-Sociological Program
• Index