By Stanley A. Renshon

The Domestic Context of Dual Citizenship

American National Culture in Transition

States have become increasing diverse because of changes in their immigration laws. We are now more "racially," ethnically, religiously, and culturally diverse that any time in our history. There are advantages to such diversity. A country can be enriched by different points of view, traditions, and contributions. However, the context of expectations, both those that immigrants bring with them and those already present in their country of arrival, makes an enormous difference in the level of integration which is attempted and accomplished

Therefore, any serious discussion of the implications of dual citizenship for the United States must take into account a fundamental fact of contemporary American cultural and political life. It must consider the extent to which the fundamental personal, institutional, and cultural understandings that have provided the unum for this country's pluribus have increasingly become matters of  contention. There is little disagreement that American national culture and identity are changing (Smelser and Alexander, 1999). The question, and it is a profound one, is whether it is doing so for better or worse.

That debate is usually, and I think too narrowly, framed in terms of common values.¹⁸ A major problem with a focus on values is that they are too abstract. Who doesn't believe in democracy? Who is against opportunity? One is reminded of the classic study that found that almost every American supported free speech, until asked about the first specific application of the principle which was controversial (Prothro and Grigg, 1960).

The consequence of discussing these issues at the rarified level of highly abstract categories is that it leads easily to conflicts over who really is rightful heir to the values being discussed, a focus on artificial similarities, or an ambivalent and ultimately confused effort to stake out an olympian "middle ground." So, for example, one can argue, as one advocate does in the case of abortion, that supporters and opponents really hold the same common values and beliefs. How is that possible?

Well, according to Steven Seidman (1999, 177), they don't disagree "on a women's right to have sex, [nor] on the value of her life and the life of her children, and not on the broader social and sexual values such as the individual's right to be sexual, the linking of sex to affection or love [or the importance of the family]." I'm certain those who support limits on abortion would be surprised to learn that they share the exact same reverence for human life as those who advocate abortion without limits. Moreover, I doubt that most Americans, even those who believe "in a woman's right to have sex," would approve of their daughters doing so at any age, with any person or persons, and at the expense of a stable, loving, long-term relationship. In short, when they are not riddled with errors and non sequiturs, such highly abstract commonalties do little to address or resolve the real issues involved.

Finally, one can find examples of those who wish to be on both sides of the issues simultaneously. The result is confusion for any trying to follow their arguments. Thus, in the introduction to their recent book, editors Neil Smelser and Jeffrey Alexander (1999, 3,8,9,11) warn us that a glance at earlier periods of intense polarized conflict "highlights not only the uniqueness of contemporary cultural emphasis, but also the unique polarizing nature of the rhetoric." Should Americans worry? No, because the contemporary sense of decline and anxiety about social cohesion is "nothing new," and "The nation does not seem to be at a turning point." The problem with this position, as one of the contributing authors to the book, John Higham (1999), points out in connection with immigration, is that in many ways the contemporary forms of immigrant incorporation do not resemble the past, and are much more worrisome. Nor is the fact that the country has "not yet reached a turning point," if that is accurate, reason not be concerned about the direction in which the country appears to be heading.

There might appear to be something worth worrying about, since the authors do characterize the country as having "deep structural strains and cultural polarization." However, they are  reassured  that "common values are still a social reality." What common values are these? Highly abstract ones like "belief in democracy" and "the value of American life."

They are further reassured that, "expanding commercialized popular culture, reflected in everything from musical hits to sports stars to fast foods and afternoon talk shows, is a homogenizing cultural focus that pervades differences of religion, ethnicity, and social class." Or, as another one of the book's authors, Viviana Zelizer (1999, 198),  notes, "In an age of diversity, it seems, commonality can only be found at the mall." I am not certain that these particular common values are what others have in mind when they worry about the decline of values which have defined common understandings of American cultural and political life.

However, appearances are deceiving, because it turns out homogenization is not incompatible with diversification.  Even currency, that most universal of mediums, shows evidence of becoming segmented along ethnic, race, class, sexual orientation, and gender lines. New monetary instruments like affinity cards are marketed as a form of multicultural money — the Rainbow Card (for homosexuals), the Unity Visa Card (for Americans of African decent), and so on (Zelizer, 1999, 197).

The problem here is that all these commercialized cultural markets do not necessarily lead to integrated communities. Nor is it clear that, just because different groups recognize and adopt specific designer labels, their shared values are anything more than skin deep. Not recognizing this, it is easier to see evidence of our cohesion in a "shared culture and tradition — whether authentic or ersatz." Yet, in coherent, integrated societies and cultures, it is the former experiences which are more likely to be predominant.

Americans may agree at the stratospheric level that democracy is best. However, that hasn't exempted any of our major social, cultural, or political institutions or patterns of traditional practice from acute conflicts over the specific ways in which they are constituted and operate.  That is, after all the meaning of the phrase "culture wars." Actually, though, that term is inaccurate since the reality is that there are a series of wars — "science wars," "history wars," "school wars," "military-culture wars," "gender wars," "family wars," and "policy wars" — on every domestic issue from affirmative action to welfare.

Yes, it is true that if you examine public opinion polls on a variety of contentious issues, there is a consensual political center (DiMaggio, Evans, and Bryson 1996). Yet, is also true that in every major sphere of American life, the basic agreements that allow these institutions and practices to be effective, integrated parts of social, cultural, and political life are permeated by conflict, often severe.  The legitimacy of America's basic institutions and practices are no longer a matter of fact, but rather of debate.

American Character in Transition?

Historically, there have been many answers to the famous question the Frenchman J.H. St. John de Creveceour (1970 [1783], 43-44) asked, "What, then, is the American, this new man?" Those answers have included specifically American ideals, customs, "creeds," emotional attachments,  values, or psychologies.¹⁹ However, it seems clear that the origin of American national culture can be traced to the twin motivations behind the establishment of the first colonies, and the psychology necessary to realize them. The twin motivations were economic and social opportunity, on one hand, and personal and political freedom, on the other. The psychology that made them possible was symbolized and reflected in the frontier, which required courage, independence, and self-reliance from those living there. Of course, the psychology of independence and self-reliance were, from the start, embedded in a setting of interpersonal, social, and community connections. After all, Natty Bumpo (Hawk-eye) had Uncas and his father Chingachgook, and even that icon of righteous individualism, the Lone Ranger, had Tonto.

Neither religious freedom nor economic opportunity were isolated, absolute values and motivations. Religious freedom was embedded in a community context. And these communities had to find ways to live with others whose beliefs differed. Communities which came together for economic opportunity co-existed with a strong belief in public, social, and political equality. No person was deemed better than any other — the ethic of "democratic egalitarianism" (Lipset, 1963, 123). From its inception then, one fundamental paradox of American national psychology was that people were expected both to fit in and stand out.

The tension between individualism and community is made evident by examining the modern evolution of American ambivalence toward achievement, belonging, and independence. These are well captured in David Riesman's (1950) influential theory of "inner- and other-directedness." It is often not appreciated that Riesman's "other-directed" and "inner-directed" are two of three forms of conformity.  In Riesman's theory, the "inner-directed" person has simply internalized general social norms in a society in which population and economic changes have made learning the details of social customs ("tradition-directed" psychologies) too complex and cumbersome to individually teach and maintain. Such persons, of course, could stand against elements of the community, but the point was that they weren't often required to do so.

Internalizing the generalized standards of a community worked well, but only if those standards were relatively stable. If not, the skill most needed, and rewarded, was the ability to ascertain just what standards were expected and adapt accordingly. Riesman's post-war America was a society characterized by large-scale social and economic changes. It was also one in which these changes coincided with the development of large-scale social institutions in which efficient performance depended on teamwork. In such circumstances, being "other-directed" was an economic asset, as well as a socially-valued skill and personality trait.

Moreover, increasing financial security and the mass production of an increasingly large number of symbols of success became more widely available though most strata of American society. How do you tell where you stand in Levittown? You keep up with Joneses, but you don't want to stand out, or stand apart.

The achievement ethic of the sixties was quite different. "Tune in, turn on, drop out" was an invitation to withdraw from the traditional cultural practices surrounding achievement. From that vantage point, achievement is certainly not measured by the accumulation of wealth, but by inner "peace" and self-understanding. The realization of one's own unique internal blueprint is the goal and self-enlightenment is the means. Conformity to "conventional" values or views is seen as absolutely antithetical to achieving self-realization. Cole Porter's signature composition, "Anything Goes," seems an apt theme song for a cultural movement in which "do your own thing" and "let it all hang out" are taken as essential cultural cues.

It is not as great a psychological distance as it might seem at first from Riesman's other-directed character to Christopher Lasch's (1979) "culture of narcissism." In Riesman's "other-directed" character the extensive veneer of sociability became a well-refined tool for "making it." Achievement is still paramount, and competition continues unabated. However, now success is achieved in group settings, by fitting in, not by self-reliance. Autonomous thinking, or fidelity to an independent sense of personal values and ideals is a minority position. It becomes a cause for others' concern, not admiration. Small wonder that Arthur Miller's Willy Loman proved a more accurate fictional representative of his time than Ann Ryan's Ned Rorak.

The lack of any firmly established internal psychological compass makes people vulnerable to the temptations of increasing abundance and repeated messages that delayed consumption is unnecessary and perhaps even odd. In the past, Lasch noted, the American penchant for self-improvement had been associated with achieving something solid and lasting. However, in an age which promised "you could have it all," or advised you to "be all that you can be," when some professional psychologists touted "self-actualization" as the north star of psychological development, enticing images of endless and easy satisfaction trumped the hard work of building a satisfying life.²⁰ Consumption might well fuel an economy, but an increasing emphasis on "self-fulfillment"²¹ could not quiet increasing feelings of emptiness, isolation, and dissatisfaction.

Lasch, writing in the aftermath of the "me" and "now" generations, viewed American private and public life as increasingly dominated by aggressively ambitious and self-centered individuals. One might characterize it as a culture of selfish individualism. Riesman (1980)  agreed, and while finding evidence of narcissistic elements elsewhere in American history, nonetheless thought that what was different now was the public acceptance and even "approval" of clearly "self-serving conduct." This is certainly one way to understand the general public acceptance of a president whose behavior brought about his impeachment — but who did so in a time of increasing economic well-being (Renshon, 1998).

Surveying Americans in the eighties, at a time of economic insecurity, Daniel Yankelovich found us increasingly turning away from the fusion of relentless ambition for mobility and the work ethic that had been part of American culture for centuries.²² He views (1981, xviii-xix) the turn inward as a response to diminished economic opportunities and expectations. Yet, he also sees in this turn inward a new effort to resolve the dilemmas raised by a firm commitment to ambitious self-advancement in a context of stagnant mobility. In these circumstances, the "rat race" seems less attractive, and the ambiguous, but still ambitious, phrase "self-fulfillment" much more so.

Paradoxically and "emphatically," he (1981, xviii) does not see self-fulfillment as the middle-class version of counter-cultural narcissism. Although he does note that, in its more extreme forms, "the new rules simply turn the old ones on their head, and in place of the old self-denial ethic [delay of gratification], we find people who refuse to deny anything to themselves — not out of bottomless appetite, but on the strange moral principle that ‘I have a duty to myself.'"

How are the duties to oneself reconciled, if they are, with the traditional American commitment to community and interpersonal ideals and values? Easily. Self-fulfillment, being an entirely personal matter, requires those who pursue it to simply adopt the cultural code: "Live and let live." Or as Yankelovich (1981, 88)  notes, "Traditional concepts of right and wrong have been replaced by norms of ‘harmful,' or ‘harmless.' If one's action are not seen as penalizing others, even if they are ‘wrong' from the perspective of traditional morality, they no longer meet much opposition."

Unlike the 1960s, in which "counterculture" adherents dismissed "traditional" values as bourgeois and confining, the new ethic is summed up by what has become almost an eleventh commandment, "Thou shall not judge." The "non-judgmentalism of middle-class Americans," in matters of religion, family, and other personal values emerges as the major finding of Wolfe's (1998) in-depth interviews with Americans across the country. He attributes it to an emphasis on pragmatism rather than values in making tough personal decisions, a reluctance to second guess the tough choices of other people, and ambivalence or confusion as the "default" moral position.²³ Needless to say, a strong ethic of self-fulfillment coupled with the view that whatever I, or anyone else does, which doesn't directly harm anyone else is all right "often collides violently with traditional rules, creating a national battle of cultural norms" (Yankelovich, 198, 5).

So, immigrants arriving into America arrive in a country where not only the basic legitimacy of the culture's institutions and practices are at issue — they arrive as well in a culture in which the basic psychology necessary to sustain the founding principles of freedom and opportunity are eroding.  Strong, independent-minded convictions and the courage to maintain fidelity to them, independence and the ability to stand apart from others if necessary, and self-reliance are becoming increasingly scarce. The pervasive complaint that one group or another has been victimized because of disparities runs counter to the historically and psychologically deeply embedded connection between the intensity, consistency, and quality of efforts to achieve one's ambitions and the possibilities of doing so. Demands for equality regardless of achievement and tolerance regardless of behavior are increasingly becoming the ethic by which Americans are being asked to live.

Continue to: Dual Citizenship and the Integration of Immigrants

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End Notes

¹⁸ Or as Alexander and Smelser (1999, 3; see also Huntington 1981, 23)  put it, "The core of the complaint concerns common values in American society." For a disclaimer from the view that common American political values are enough see Lind (1996, 242-43) and Smith (1987).

¹⁹ Historical views of American national identity coupled with a modern reformulation of the concept may be found in Renshon (2000b).

²⁰ The best book on the seductive psychology of the image and the public's role in encouraging it is still Boorstin (1992 [1933]).

²¹ Yankelovich's (1981 xix, 259-260) national opinion data on the growing emphasis on self-fulfillment in American culture led him to conclude that, "it was not a by-product of affluence, or a shift in the national character toward narcissism, [but rather] a search for a new American philosophy of life." Of course, "philosophies of life" are themselves reflections of values and psychology and  helped to facilitate the very psychologies that will buttress them.

Optimistically, he saw Americans growing "less self-absorbed and more prepared to take a first step toward an ethic of commitment." However, he also noted that the development of such an ethic would require direct support from "the larger society — political leadership, the mass media, institutional leadership (business, education, labor, artists and scientists, the intellectual community," in short, for the most part all the groups caught up in the ethic of relentless self-interest.

Small wonder that 17 years later, Lehmann (1998, 38) lamented a new consensus which "represents an embrace of...one-way libertarianism: the average citizen has no obligation to the country, but the government has a very serious obligation to that citizen."

²² For example, Yankelovich (1981 38-39, 163-218) reports that in the mid-1960s, 72 percent of college students agreed that "hard work always pays off." By the early 1970s, this figure had dropped to 40 percent. These findings were paralleled in adults, for whom, between the late 1960s and the late 1970s, the percentage of adults agreeing with that aphorism fell from 58 to 43 percent.

²³ There is an important distinction to be drawn between being slow to pass judgments, and being adverse to making them. Why Americans now seem more adverse than slow is a question left unanswered by Wolfe, but is nonetheless critical in understanding the public's response to the dilemmas of diversity being fought out around them.