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to which the population is subjectively committed to any way of life. Any statement concerning the latter must deal with habits and ways of thinking, feelings of satisfaction and dissatisfaction, reluctances and readinesses, and accepted and unchallenged patterns of social relations. From at least one point of view, one may say that many persons in the most developed industrial societies do not accept, i.e., are not fully committed to, the industrial way of life. They find themselves seriously at variance with many of the pressures of life in such a society. They feel alien to the major impulses and kinds of behavior that seem to be required for success in the market place. They dislike the criteria of evaluation of the social worth of individuals. They deplore the interpersonal relations that develop when men view each other impersonally and instrumentally.

These objections to and alienations from the industrial way of life on the part of persons already involved in it may be indicative of the principal sources of resistance to moving into such a way of life. We can classify major resistances to industrialization expressed by people in preindustrial or quasi-industrial societies in terms of unwillingness to be subjected to the pressures implicit in industrialization; reluctance to break with forms of social relations that give assurance of security in the traditional societies; hesitancy to yield the comforting ratings and ranks they enjoy as members of their families and communities.

There is evident in these resistances the universal effort of normal individuals to maximize the favorableness of their self-images. This effort is of course always relative to perceived resources and perceived limits. Prospective self-images which are theoretically possible and which might, all other things changing appropriately, prove even more psychologically desirable to the individual may be rejected because they are not perceived as such, or because the attendant prospective risks and gains cannot intellectually and emotionally be brought into a satisfying balance.

Role Image and Commitment

There is also a universal strain to maintain the most favorable image of one's roles. The major guides to behavior acquired by any individual in the process of being socialized, whether as a child or an adult, involve certain images of roles that are related to the major statuses that one expects, and is expected, to occupy at various times in one's life. The normal adult statuses of breadwinner, husband, father, and citizen are examples. We all tend to make our behavior conform to those

models of decorum and conduct that were sketched on our social memories, early in life. This is true even though the finer details are acquired only with the actual status, and even though the final manner of comporting ourselves in these roles depends largely on interaction with other persons.

In these images of major roles lie the dynamics of commitment, for the change to any system of behavior from any previous system depends on the ability of the particular individual to see himself as a player of the roles involved in that system. And this in prior turn depends on his ability to see himself as no longer playing the roles attached to the traditional statuses. There are, then, at least two stages in the development of commitment. It is possible for a group of persons to be ready to change from certain status and role arrangements, without being ready to adopt and commit themselves to any other particular set of arrangements.

The restraining power of the traditional statuses lies not only in the habitual and customary nature of their requirements, which makes them easier to fulfill, but also in moral certifications implicit in the role images. Role prescriptions, in short, are not only descriptive; they are evaluative and normative. A father habitually or traditionally does this or that, but there are specific things a good father should do. And we all know what a good citizen should be like. Moreover, these general normative role prescriptions are frequently concretized, and their moral aspects introjected. The general statement is translated into a set of personal commandments in the form, "I am the kind of father who..."; the very identity of the person is thus defined by the personalization of the general role prescriptions. The importance of this identification of self with role lies in the fact that this is the self with which the individual actor confronts the world and, in that confrontation, measures out his own personal esteem for himself. He is encouraged to do so by the reactions to his role image on the part of those with whom he interacts.

The crucial resistance to industrialization found in peasant and primitive societies may come from the tendency of various major role images to be reasonably well-integrated with each other, although no one formula or pattern alone suffices as a model of such integration.

• For some of the dynamics of this process of change in one particular case, see Melvin M. Tumin and Arnold S. Feldman, "Status, Perspective and Achievement: A Study of Education and the Class Structure in Puerto Rico," American Sociological Review, 21:464-472 (August 1956).

There is integration in the sense that individuals in such societies generally have formulated a stable composite role image that includes the chief aspects of each of the component roles, even though their interconnections may involve the stressing of one as compensation for another. Thus, the utterly devalued untouchable in a caste system may be resistant to change of any considerable kind, even though one of his major roles may be a source of pain and deprivation.

The breaking of any aspect of a traditional society, then, immediately tends to involve much more change than that in the aspect where the impetus to change first appeared. This is why a peasant society frequently seems to recoil from the beckonings and bemusements with which it is confronted when it comes into contact with a culture of another world of understandings. It is not metaphorical to say that the total society is threatened by a change in any one of its major aspects, for such a statement tends to be true in a literal sense. Morals, habits, forms of community interaction, patterns of power and prestige, bases of self-esteem, as well as the general and impersonal arrangement of the society's institutions come into question when any one of these aspects is questioned.

The essence of the foregoing observations is that the way of work and the rewards for work in traditional societies are most frequently central to their way of life. To attempt to change the way of work is therefore to attempt to change the way of life. Naturally the resistance is much stronger than it is when a change in occupation implies little more than a change in the bus that one has to take every morning, or even such relatively large changes as moving from one city to another, changing one's community of peers, or acquiring new skills and attitudes essential for efficient performance.

The interaction of work with the total way of life in traditional societies has been discussed in several preceding papers. Thus, Elkan and Fallers have noted that wage work in town tends to be a phase rather than a way of life for the Baganda, many of whom commute daily from rural holdings where their wives cultivate food and cash crops, while others return to rural homes every weekend (cf. page 249 supra). Attention is focused throughout their paper on the tension between the attractions of town work and its level of pay, and the retentive forces of the traditional social system. We are led to understand why the Baganda maintain a strong affiliation with the traditional social structure, at the same time that they make some considerable ventures into the new labor market.

We also note that there is considerable difference between age groups in the frequency and depth of involvement in town life, as we should expect. One would assume that younger men, not yet integrated in their adult roles, and not yet privileged to receive the full rewards of participation in the traditional society, typically would be much more footloose and susceptible to the marginal attractions of the town. This is especially likely to be true when the prevailing definition of the worth of town work, provided by the words and actions of older men, tells the younger men to view such work as a temporary arrangement. In the same vein, Singer points out that the problem of gaining the craftsman's acceptance for technical improvements is not one of changing his character and values, but of assuring him of continued opportunities for their expression under changing forms of social and economic organizations (page 272 supra). This formulation underestimates some of the difficulties that rise because at least some aspects of character and some values have to be changed if individuals are to adjust to the new system. But the more important truth is that, except where sharp breaks with former traditions are forcefully required, any population will tend to move into new work ambiences and to commit itself to the new ways only as it sees itself able to fulfill its traditional image of itself within the new. And this image is a configuration of a variety of separate but connected role images, which include prescriptions about how to think and feel, how to react to others, what to want from life, what is good and bad, and the proper course of life.

DEMOCRATIC FACILITATION of Social Change: The Puerto Rican CASE

In stressing the probable resistances to change that must be expected in the process of modernization, one unavoidably gives the impression that all nonmodern peoples are yielding only with great reluctance to the inducements of the modern type of social order. That impression of what is happening is quite correct if it is recognized at the same time that, in spite of this considerable reluctance, rapid social change in the direction of modernization is occurring all over the world. We should hardly expect such rapidity of change if all the resistances worked to their fullest degree to retard the process.

What, then, can account for the current fact of rapid social change, in spite of the numerous and diverse resistances which have been noted? Many slogans attempt to account for this change but they are hardly satisfactory, for we learn nothing by talking about the inherent

desire of people for a better way of life. We know that an "inherent" desire to continue the same way of life is an equally strong motive. Must one not face the fact that the rapidity of social change from traditional to modern societies is often function of the forceful impact of the developed on the undeveloped societies? Are not these changes sometimes made with little concern for native traditions, sometimes with only passing and token acknowledgments of these traditions, and a nominal interest in taking them into account and respecting them? But is it not also true that our judgment as to whether the change is rapid or slow depends largely on our individual and personal notions as to how fast change should occur? And do not these judgments in turn depend on the degree of our personal interest in reaching the outcome called "modernization," balanced against our inclination to make such a goal secondary to maintaining the "integrity" of the way of life of the peoples in question? The latter considerations obviously have nothing to do with the scientific issues at stake. At least, by common resolution concerning scientific method, they should have nothing to do with our estimates of the actual case and of possible future situations.

A case such as that of the modernization of Puerto Rico calls attention to the way in which our value questions and our scientific interests often become intertwined. This case of modernization, which is probably as rapid and as far-reaching as any the world is experiencing, exemplifies very rapid growth in the commitment of members of all levels of the labor force to the demands of the emerging modern society. Most social scientists from the United States who have observed the processes of change in Puerto Rico tend to applaud what has happened, with few reservations. But some thoughtful scholars in Puerto Rico and others deeply concerned with the totality of Puerto Rican life find themselves highly ambivalent about the changes which have occurred, primarily because they see certain fundamental values in traditional Puerto Rican life being destroyed by the new market impulses and orientations that are coming to dominate the attention of virtually every segment of Puerto Rican society. The outside observers acknowledge these impacts on the traditional values but tend to be reassured, in their over-all evaluation of the process, by the fact that a democratic government is insisting that all segments of the society shall share in its new wealth and strength. It is precisely the Puerto Rican workers' perception and acceptance of this assurance by their government that enables them to experiment tentatively with new ways of work and of

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