Colossal Control Failures

From Julius Caesar to 9/11

Jack P. Gibbs

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2015
• eBook ISBN: 9781317262220
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

This fascinating book analyzes 13 control failures in human history, from Robespierre's promotion of the French Revolution, to Hoover's efforts to stop the Great Depression, to the intelligence failures of 9/11. Assessing the causes of 10 additional historical cases, the author's comparative analysis shows how each leadership failure was caused by an expansion of the range of control attempts, their scope, and/or their diversity. A leader's or other actor's attempts to broaden the range of control targets have been most important in causing great human failures. The analysis is timely during an era when war, global warming, and other vexing problems plague our society.

PART I

Preliminary Matters

Chapters 1 and 2 hopefully promote understanding of all subsequent chapters. At the risk of boring readers to near mortification, the two chapters set forth an elaborate conceptualization of control attempts, including the effective/ineffective distinction. After all, the very idea of a control failure, colossal or otherwise, presupposes that distinction.

Chapter 1 treats the notion of control attempts without regard to particular types or kinds. Although the conceptualization of control attempts need not imply anything about a central notion for the social and behavioral sciences, any candidate requires an elaborate conceptualization. Yet in itself a central notion is not an explanation of human behavior; rather, the only claim made about any candidate for a field’s central notion is that it can be used to describe and think about the field’s putative subject matter. Nonetheless, such use is essential for systematic explanations or interpretations, as opposed to the ad hoc.

Chapter 1 goes beyond definitions to statements of three “control principles” that are relevant in explaining failed control attempts. Those statements are all the more important because Chapters 3–13 transcend descriptions of particular colossal control failures (e.g., the prosecution of O. J. Simpson) to at least a partial explanation of them in terms of the three control principles. Each principle pertains to a particular dimension of control attempts, one being range, meaning the number and variety of things that the individual in question has attempted to control in the past. The general control principle (GCP) in Chapter 1, a summary of the three principles, asserts that expansion of any of the three control dimensions is conducive to control failures, and the GCP is employed throughout Chapters 3–13 to explain particular colossal control failures.

It is extremely unlikely that any explanation applies to all control attempts regardless of type or kind. That point alone justifies the identification in Chapter 2 of types or kinds of attempts to control human behavior, one of three basic types of control attempts. The other two basic types of control attempts—the inanimate (e.g., the creation or use of tools) and the biotic (e.g., plant or animal domestication, genetic engineering)—are examined in Appendix A and Appendix B. The typology is needed if only to correct two common but erroneous beliefs—that only a few forms of human behavior qualify as control attempts, and that control is an evil. Finally, in recognition of some inevitable bearing on the subject, Chapter 2 clarifies the relation between control and power.

CHAPTER 1

THE UBIQUITY OF CONTROL FAILURES, THE NATURE OF ATTEMPTED CONTROL, AND SOME CONTROL PRINCIPLES

Have you ever risked big money and lost it? Been turned down for a loan? How about applying for a job and getting zilch? Have you ever taken a cold medicine that did no good whatsoever? Can you think of a time when you tried but failed to get a date? Ever been unable to start a car?

If you answered each question in the negative, you must be Martian, because an affirmative answer implies an ineffective control attempt. The point is that control failures are all too human. They are not alien to any adult’s experience, or peculiar to some cultures, and they are the very stuff of human history. Unfortunately, that generalization will not be truly understood, much less appear credible, without a conceptualization of attempted control, including the effective/ineffective distinction. The reader may come away from the conceptualization bored stiff, because any conceptualization is, as Mark Twain would put it, chloroform in print. So this author’s plea: tolerate my own control attempt, if only to humor me.

A GENERIC DEFINITION OF ATTEMPTED CONTROL AND OF EFFECTIVE/INEFFECTIVE ATTEMPTS

Defined so as to encompass all types or kinds, attempted control is overt behavior by a human in the belief that (1) the behavior increases or decreases the probability of some subsequent condition and (2) the increase or decrease is desirable. Overt behavior is the commission or omission of some act, and the “subsequent condition” may be either an organism’s behavior or the existence, location, composition, color, size, weight, shape, odor, temperature, or texture of some object or substance, be it animate or inanimate, observable or unobservable. The condition may or may not take the form of a change, meaning that one can act or refrain in the belief that it increases or decreases the probability of some change. Finally, unless indicated otherwise, the term “control” is used throughout the chapters in the sense of an attempt, and there are many instances where, to avoid possible ambiguity, the term attempt, attempts, or attempted is used to emphasize that the control action in question could be effective or ineffective.

As is commonly the case for definitions pertaining to human behavior, there are various alternatives in defining a control attempt. Brief versions of two possibilities must suffice to promote simplicity and understanding. First, a control attempt is overt behavior in the expectation of desirable consequences. Second, a control attempt is overt behavior in the hope of realizing some particular outcome.

No rewording is needed to make a crucial claim about the initial definition of a control attempt. As suggested by the six questions posed at the beginning of this chapter, it would be difficult to exaggerate the extent that control attempts, so defined, permeate human behavior. Were it otherwise, control could not be the central notion for the social and behavioral sciences, and there is a related point. Despite its abstract appearance, the definition of a control attempt is not alien to human experience. In that connection, it is hoped that at the end of Chapter 2 (types of attempts to control human behavior) the reader will reflect on this question: have I read something that is really inconsistent with my experience? There is an additional question for social and behavioral scientists. What notion would offer more than does “attempted control” when it comes to describing and thinking about any and all kinds of human behavior regardless of place or time?

Possible Objections and Further Stabs at Clarification

A contending definition—not just a rewording—could be: a control attempt is overt behavior that was intended to have a specific consequence. Such terminology has been avoided because the conventional meaning of intentional behavior is too narrow, being commonly thought of as preceded by deliberation and conscious anticipation of a specific consequence. That conception differs from the present definition of attempted control in light of three key terms: deliberation, conscious anticipation, and specific consequence. Think of someone driving a car. To describe gripping the steering wheel as “intentional” would be misleading. Drivers are commonly unaware of gripping the wheel, and they rarely consciously anticipate some specific consequence of releasing that grip. So, regrettably, much of driving behavior lacks the intentional quality of, say, a bluff in a poker game. But who would deny that drivers—even drunks—grip the wheel in the belief that the behavior reduces the probability of something undesirable?

One counterargument—we have beliefs only when conscious of them—is flawed. If humans could not act without consciously anticipating specific consequences, their very survival would be jeopardized. Reconsider car drivers. Although their behavior is usually habitual and unreflective, they grip the wheel in the belief that it avoids a collision. Granted, the expression “behavior-in-the-belief-that” is cumbersome. “With knowledge of” may appear preferable, and it does lacerate the eye less; but it does not communicate the affective facet of beliefs—that some consequences of behavior are desirable and others undesirable.

When describing or classifying human behavior in control terms, the observer need not claim knowledge of the actual thoughts or feelings of those under observation, pretending to “get into their mind.” In classifying a particular act, such as extending a dinner invitation, in a particular social unit (e.g., the U.S. Senate), the crucial question for the observer is this: what related thoughts and feelings would the typical social unit member attribute to the actor in that situation? As the question suggests, no one should apply the proposed conceptual scheme in any social unit—be it a country, tribe, family, organization, or whatever—unless he/she has extensive knowledge of that social unit; and the same admonition applies to contexts or situations, regardless of the social unit. However, even thorough knowledge of a particular social unit does not always enable an observer to classify all acts therein with confidence. After all, the typical social unit member is inevitably puzzled by some acts of another member; consequently, any conceptual scheme should somehow recognize and accommodate “interpretive doubts” in social life.

Effective/Successful vs. Ineffective/Unsuccessful Control Attempts

Many social and behavioral scientists have misgivings about defining or classifying kinds of human behavior by reference to internal behavior, such as beliefs, and some explicitly assert or imply that control may be intentional or unintentional (e.g., Dahl, 1982:17; Tittle, 1995:143–145); but without that reference the very notion of a control attempt and the effective/ineffective distinction are lost. The distinction is recognized here through a series of definitions.

When someone attempts control, it is effective to the extent that the attempter perceives the attempt as having had more desirable than undesirable consequences. As implied, a control attempt is ineffective to the extent that it is perceived by the attempter as having more undesirable than desirable consequences. By contrast, a successful control attempt is perceived by the attempter as having had only desirable consequences. Again as implied, an unsuccessful control attempt is perceived by the attempter as having had only undesirable consequences. So “successful control attempts” are instances of “effective control attempts” (i.e., the latter includes the former) and “unsuccessful control attempts” are instances of “ineffective control attempts.” Finally, an indeterminant control attempt is perceived by the attempter as having had approximately equal consequences (i.e., desirable vs. undesirable).

Far from being alien to common experience, the foregoing definitions bear directly on it. If there are naysayers, they should try to identify any adult who denies recognition of the consequences of her/his behavior and an appreciation of the desirable/undesirable distinction. If there are such humans, they are evidence that the notion of control can be used to describe and think about virtually all of human behavior, in this case behavior labeled as psychotic, insane, or mentally challenged.

Other strategic distinctions. The term “control failure” refers to (1) an ineffective control attempt, (2) the omission of a contemplated attempt (i.e., a control omission) with subsequent regret, or (3) control inaction. The last occurs when an individual perceives the need for some control attempt but does not really contemplate any particular kind and subsequently regrets it (henceforth the “regrets” is left understood). Control inaction receives little subsequent attention because of its presumed rarity, though its undesirable consequences can be colossal.

Commission of a control attempt, contemplation of an attempt but omission, or control inaction is entirely a matter of the perception of the individual who contemplated the attempt. Why the constant emphasis on perception? The emphasis certainly does not imply acceptance of the assumption that the perceptions or beliefs of humans are anything like invariantly correct by some external criterion (for evidence against the assumption, see, especially, Gilovich, 1991). Rather, imagine someone trying to explain why humans engage in control attempts without so much as considering their perceptions of past and possible outcomes. As a case in point, it is inconceivable that the notion of rationality can enter into a correct prediction about or a plausible interpretation of anyone’s behavior unless rationality is defined such that it refers to the actor’s perceptions, and in that sense “rationality” is not objectively given. That point was recognized by James Coleman, a major proponent of the “rational action” perspective in sociology. After struggling with definitional problems, Coleman (1990:18) wrote: “Or put another way, much of what is ordinarily described as nonrational or irrational is merely so because the observers have not discovered the point of view of the actor, from which the action is rational.” Precisely, but along with economists Coleman ignored the implication—that the rational/irrational distinction is inconsequential because humans rarely view their current behavior as irrational.

The foregoing reflects the conviction that it is feckless to define any kind of human behavior without reference to facets of internal behavior (e.g., perception, belief), even granting that application of such a definition may require disputable inferences. As for application, difficulty is unavoidable given the complexities of human behavior; and any candidate for the central notion of the social and behavioral sciences should accommodate those complexities. Specifically, identification of a “control omission” requires three inferences: (1) that the person in question contemplated a control attempt, (2) subsequently refrained from it, and (3) eventually came to regret having refrained (again, henceforth the third requirement is left understood). If those three requirements make the notion all too arcane, try to find any adult who denies ever having contemplated a control attempt only to subsequently refrain from it and coming to regret that decision. For that matter, the difficulty of inferences, whatever they may be, has no bearing on the ontology of what is being inferred, here the reality of a particular kind of human experience. Finally, one may contemplate but subsequently refrain from attempting to control a nonhuman organism or some inanimate object, meaning that control omissions are not limited to control over human behavior.

More on some of the distinctions. Like numerous other kinds of human behavior (or “actions”), control failures are not directly observable, and the difficulties in inferring them are especially acute when it comes to distinguishing control omission and control inaction. To repeat, in the latter case someone perceives a need for a control attempt (often described as a “need to prevent”) but does not so much as really contemplate any particular kind. Such inaction most likely occurs when there are doubts as to the appropriate kind of control attempt. There may be no better illustration than the horrendous number of deaths of Native Americans from diseases conveyed by Europeans (Diamond, 2005). Perhaps some native leaders attempted to check the epidemic by what proved to be ineffective biotic control attempts; but it is also likely that many contemplated some particular kind of attempt only to refrain (control omission), while still others were paralyzed by ignorance or fear (control inaction).

There is no sure way to allocate blame for 9/11 in terms of the “control failure triangle”—ineffective control attempts, control omissions, or control inaction. The same is true of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. Such catastrophes are not just historic disasters; they should remind Americans of an awful contemporary dilemma, that future catastrophes may stem from any component of the control failure triangle. Indeed, Hurricane Katrina was glaring evidence that the Bush administration really learned very little from 9/11, and future global warming may prove that they are incorrigibly predisposed to control inaction. However, control inaction is by no means limited to the reactions of elites to an impending collective disaster; it is prevalent at the very personal and hoi polloi levels. Thus, most Americans dread the infirmities of old age—hardly a neurotic concern—but they rarely do something about it. Indeed, the way that people commonly confront health problems, including insomnia, is a study in control inaction.

Dubious Contenders

As for distinguishing effective and ineffective control attempts without reference to internal behavior, the first of four possible alternatives is something like this: human behavior is effective control if it has some external effect. But try to think of any overt behavior that would not qualify. Then imagine an individual backing out of a bank with a gun in hand and being shot by a police officer. If the officer’s behavior was caused by the robber’s behavior, it follows that the robber effectively controlled the police officer. So the “overt-behavior-only” criterion of effective/ineffective control invites absurdities.

Second contending definition: overt behavior is effective control if and only if it has a particular external consequence and all previous instances had that particular kind of consequence. The immediate problem is that such invariant associations scarcely exist. To illustrate, because there have been instances where a cop shouted “Halt!” without a discernible external consequence, then according to the “invariant association” criterion a later instance would be ineffective control even if the target halts. Nothing is gained by speaking of “most instances.” Thus, if in 51 percent of past cases where a cop shouted “Halt!” no one nearby ceased moving, it would be absurd to identify instances of halting as ineffective control. Why would the cop’s shouting “Halt!” be attempted control in light of the present definition? Because the typical social unit member (e.g., a particular city resident)...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Dedication
• Table of Contents
• Preface
• Part I Preliminary Matters
• Part II Colossal Control Failures by Three American Presidents
• Part III Colossal Control Failures by Three Revolutionaries
• Part IV Colossal Control Failures by Two Dictators
• Part V Some Other Colossal Control Failures
• Part VI Major Implications
• Appendix A: Inanimate Control
• Appendix B: Biotic Control
• References
• Name Index: Authors, Editors, and Selected Other Names
• Subject Index
• About the Author