The twentieth century holds many titles that emphasise the extraordinary. It was a century of totalitarianism, but also one of betrayal, an age of extremes and the incomprehensible. Betrayed, that is, at the mercy of unrestrained violence, were not only the people themselves but also, as it were, the idea of the human being. For up to a certain point, one could weigh oneself in an unfounded security of an inner connection between people. As is well known, such certainties were knocked out of hand in that century.

Many situations, many images, motifs and sources can be named for this experience of unbounded violence, which now, at the beginning of the twenty-first century, requires new forms of transmission.

History is like a river that carries people along. They were not allowed to shape their own history, but had to live through it as a great experience. Individual events can be taken from this stream of history that makes one think.

One of these stories leads to the so-called odyssey of the St Louis. This was an ordinary passenger ship. The route led from Hamburg to Cuba, later back to Antwerp. The passengers were all German Jews who wanted to escape the threat of the Nazi regime in May 1939. The odyssey initially took the occupants to Havana Bay, but the Cuban government did not allow the ship to dock at the pier due to changes in visa regulations. Only 29 passengers were allowed to disembark. The rest remained at the mercy of the American and Canadian authorities. Roosevelt refused to allow the ship to dock on the American coast in June 1939, and Canadian prime minister King also issued a refusal.

The odyssey ended, despite all efforts to the contrary, in Europe, in Antwerp. From here, the odyssey continued to Belgium, the Netherlands, France, to areas that, as is well known, shortly afterwards became part of the National Socialists’ sphere of control. Few refugees made it to Great Britain, 254 of the passengers died in the Holocaust. The odyssey of the St Louis is one of the stories of the twentieth century that has been captured in film and literature (Ther, 2018; Ogilvie/Miller, 2006).

It has become impossible to ignore the organized mass adoptions of Greek children to the USA during the two decades that followed the end of the Greek Civil War of 1946–1949. This movement must be characterized less as a byproduct of the Greek Civil War and more as a Cold War phenomenon, when Greek agency, let alone children’s agency, was at a historic low—and U.S. demands marked a new postwar high. This mass adoption phenomenon, which involved some 4,000 children, has been contested, denied, or grossly exaggerated. Recently, however, this controversial subject has also been studied and documented.

We have now arrived at that critical junction where the debate can and must broaden and draw in many more interlocutors. The debate must be led by the Greek-born adopted persons themselves, who are finding each other via social media and communicate more frequently and more productively than ever before.

That is why the collection that you have picked up is so important: it is the first anthology of Greek adoption stories written by Greek international adoptees and compiled by the scholar and journalist Mary Cardaras, herself a Greek-to-American adoptee. This book is nothing short of a path-breaking initiative, given that no previous collection of such Greek adoptee stories, written by the people themselves, exists anywhere, whether in Greece or in the English-speaking world. These stories then strike home the experience of international adoption, whose impact is lifelong but is not properly measured, let alone acknowledged.

Remarkably, more than half a century after the voyage of no return, the voices of the adoptees who “lived it,” as the Greeks would say, have yet to be heard. But times have changed dramatically since 1949, and the voices of international adoptees from anywhere living just about everywhere have only grown louder.

Secularization theory once held paradigmatic status in the study of religion and modernity—a prominence due in part to the sophistication with which it was articulated by the eminent sociologist Peter L. Berger. But in one of the most famous scholarly turnabouts in academic history, in the 1990s, Berger renounced his adherence to secularization theory and began developing an argument that a theory of pluralization should decisively displace secularization theory as the paradigm for understanding religion. Berger laid out the contours of this theory in a number of places, including the 2012 Society article “Further Thoughts on Religion and Modernity,” and in his 2014 book, The Many Altars of Modernity: Toward a Paradigm for Religion in a Pluralist Age. The theory is bold and important, not only because of the empirical claims it makes about religious resilience, but because of its normative dimensions and implications.

The Empirical Claim

Contra secularization theory, Berger (2012, 313) argued that “modernity does not necessarily produce a decline of religion.” However, modernity “does necessarily produce a deepening process of pluralization—a historically unprecedented situation in which more and more people live amid competing beliefs, values, and lifestyles.” Berger further specified the modern situation vis-à-vis religion as consisting of two pluralisms. By two pluralisms Berger meant that (1) there is increasing diversity of religious communities living in the same society, and (2) there is at the same time a complex and critically important interaction between these religious communities and a powerful secular discourse—“a default secular discourse [that] co-exists with a plurality of religious discourses, both in society and in consciousness.”

The Normative Dimension

The outcome of successfully managed pluralism is, according to Berger (2014, 1), “a social situation in which people with different ethnicities, worldviews, and moralities live together peacefully and interact with each other amicably.”

In this chapter, I offer reflections on the important implications and enduring questions that Berger’s pluralist thought suggests vis-à-vis the American sociopolitical, religious, and legal experience. The American case is inevitably an important one in any discussion of modernization, religion, secularization, and pluralization. It was America, after all, that was always the most obvious problem for secularization theory.

County Galway

Ardrahan, Kilmacduagh Diocese

Commentary

The Catholic parish of Ardrahan was in Kilmacduagh diocese at the time of the Death Census. The Catholic parish was coextensive with the civil parish of the same name. Its population was reported in the statutory censuses at 3,805 in 1831, and 4,191 in 1841 (about 1,000 more than the 3,200 inhabitants that Revd Quin estimated for his parish in 1847). This implies a rate of increase of about 1 per cent per year between 1831 and 1841. In 1841, 44 per cent of the housing was classified as fourth class and the female illiteracy rate was 81 per cent. These two measures of poverty and disadvantage are included in this and later commentaries to give a rough indication of living standards in the localities. It should be noted, however, that it is not always possible to map data precisely from civil parishes, as in the population censuses, on to Catholic parishes. This qualification is unlikely to make much difference in practice to the patterns of literacy or housing quality locally.

Patrick Bodkin Quin had long-standing connections with Ardrahan. Arriving from Peterswell parish, he had been parish priest of Ardrahan from at least as early as 1834, when he is recorded as contributing £1 to the O’Connell annuity that year. He farmed locally, was a supporter of the Repeal Association, was a prominent advocate of Catholic rights, and was a member of the Ardrahan Relief Committee during Black ‘47, when he signed a memorial to the Lord Lieutenant protesting at the temporary termination of Public Works (the memorial is replicated below). It seems reasonable, therefore, to infer that his knowledge of the locality was extensive, and he was a prime candidate to report on Famine deaths in the area. Quin did not live long beyond the submission of his report, for in early September 1847 the Galway Mercury announced his death:

We sincerely regret to be obliged to state, that another of the venerated Priesthood of Ireland has fallen a victim to that most dreadful malady, fever, and yielded up his soul into the hands of his Creator, on the morning of Sunday last [29 August].

Peter Berger wrote about a remarkable range of subjects in the course of his long career. But there were some key themes to which he returned time and again, with variations and refinements. One of those themes is the inevitability of what he called “plurality,” that is the existence of multiple religions and worldviews in modern, liberal societies, and the challenges they posed not only to religious institutions but to social and political ones as well. He explained why the dynamics of modern, liberal society created an imperative to choose. Plurality and choice generated some characteristic challenges to institutions and characteristic dilemmas for the individual. Berger explored these challenges and dilemmas with great perspicacity during the five decades that separated his early The Precarious Vision: A Sociologist Looks at Social Fictions and Christian Faith (1961) from his late In Praise of Doubt: How to Have Convictions without Becoming a Fanatic (2009, written with his Dutch colleague, Anton Zijderveld) and The Many Altars of Modernity: Toward a Paradigm for Religion in a Pluralist Age (2014). Berger’s analyses of these processes and dilemmas remain as insightful as when he first formulated them over half a century ago. They are arguably more relevant than ever for understanding contemporary cultural and political dynamics.

One of the key conceptual coinages with which Berger explored these issues was his notion of “plausibility structures.” The idea, in a nutshell, is this: to the extent that knowledge is socially constructed or conditioned, what counts as plausible “knowledge” depends on social context. A key function of institutions such as religions, political parties, and professional milieus is to render certain ideas into premises, that is, to make them taken for granted, and to render other ideas inadmissible or unthinkable. One of Berger’s favorite examples was the notion of “natural law,” which is taken for granted as true, rational, and universal in Roman Catholic circles, but is often regarded with skepticism outside of such circles. (Berger often repeated this example, and many others, across the decades.

Introduction

Erving Goffman wrote relatively little about his own methods of work (Manning 1992, 142; Becker 2003, 660; Jacobsen and Kristiansen 2015, 41), and virtually nothing about social research methodology more generally, at one point suggesting that this could only amount to “rationalizations” (Goffman 1989, 124). He seems to have rejected the idea that fieldwork relied on specialized techniques, as well as discussion of “paradigms” ( Goffman 1981b; Verhoeven 1993). Nevertheless, he did provide a fairly detailed account of his Shetland Islands’ fieldwork in his PhD dissertation (Goffman 1953a) and offered some indications about his orientation in two interviews (Verhoeven 1983; Winkin 1984), as well as replying to criticism at one point (Denzin and Keller 1981; Goffman 1981b). There was at least one other occasion when he was induced to talk publicly about method, and what he said was secretly recorded and published after his death (Goffman 1989). A reasonably clear sense of his distinctive orientation can be gleaned from these sources, as well as from his substantive work; though they leave some significant issues unresolved (Manning 1992, chapter 7; Jacobsen and Kristiansen 2015; Manning 2016).

Of course, Goffman’s reluctance to talk about methodology has not stopped commentators writing about this aspect of his work. Indeed, while what he produced has been widely admired, his methods have often been criticized (see Williams 1988). These criticisms have varied considerably in character, coming from diverse directions: from those appealing to a traditional conception of the form ethnographies should take; from commentators relying on a positivistic conception of science; from proponents of grounded theory; and from conversation analysts. This reflects the fact that Goffman’s work highlights significant methodological tensions within social science, ones that are (if anything) even more challenging today than they were at the time he was writing.

In this chapter, we revisit the issue of Goffman’s methods, beginning with a look at the sorts of data he employed, and the uses to which he put these— in particular, the pursuit of comparative analysis to identify formal features in the social organization of interpersonal interaction.

Learning Objectives

• • Learn the importance of alternatives in negotiation

• • Understand the importance of listening

• • Explore techniques for effective listening

• • Learn about the importance of power and how to enhance it

• • Understand how to say “No” in a productive way

Opening Profile: Walmart Vendors

Walmart vendors are trained to treat their vendors in a variety of ways, depending on where you fit in their plan. This case shares the story of a vendor called Sarah who negotiated a win-win outcome with Walmart. Walmart, the world’s largest retailer, sold $514.4 billion worth of goods in 2019. A partnership with Walmart is either the Holy Grail or the kiss of death, given the organization’s single-minded focus on EDLP (everyday low pricing) and its ability to make or break suppliers. However, one’s perspective may make a difference.

Sarah Talley (owner of Frey Farms) acquired a deep understanding of the Walmart culture while finding “new money” in the supply chain through innovative tactics.

For example, Frey Farms used school buses ($1,500 each) instead of tractors ($12,000 each) as a cheaper and faster way to transport melons to the warehouse.

Talley also was skillful at negotiating a coveted co-management supplier agreement with Walmart, showing how Frey Farms could share the responsibility of managing inventory levels and sales and ultimately save customers’ money while improving their own margins.

Sarah Talley’s key negotiation principles:

When you have a problem, when there’s something you engage in with Walmart that requires agreement so that it becomes a negotiation, the first advice is to think in partnership terms and really focus on a common goal, for example, getting costs out and asking questions. Don’t make demands or statements. Rather ask if you can do this better. If the relationship with Walmart is truly a partnership, negotiation to resolve differences should focus on long-term mutual partnership gains.

Don’t spend time griping. Be problem solvers instead. Approach Walmart by saying, “Let’s work together and drive costs down and product it so much cheaper you don’t have to replace me because if you work with me I could do it better.”

Introduction: New Pedagogy for Digital Human Subjects Research

Ethics in human subjects research, whether in medical or social sciences, has been a key topic in researchers’ training for decades in the United States and United Kingdom (UK). In the United States, the history of IRBs in evaluating and overseeing the conduct of ethical human subjects research has its roots in legislation. The 1974 National Research Act was signed into law after a series of congressional hearings on human subjects research and gained greater momentum in response to the Tuskegee syphilis study (Chadwick, 1997). In the UK the processes have been more decentralised with research ethics committees distributed across research sectors and universities, but since the early 2000s there have been greater efforts to develop national standards for both biomedical and social science human subjects research in the UK. While these standards are world leading, world-leading, and many developing countries are adopting their own human subjects research frameworks based on them, the advent of widespread digital data collection presents new challenges for researchers and educators to address in ethics and research protocol pedagogy. This is especially true when research is being done in and with vulnerable subjects in developing countries.

How we address this question has implications for general society as well as academic research. Complex power relations emerge in this space between a university’s IRB’s conception of ethical human subjects research and a technology’s terms of use, including those between the researcher and participant, and the researcher and software company. As the nature of research adapts and incorporates technological changes, the IRB will increasingly be the facility that mediates the power of different actors in a digital human subjects research process to make sure research participants are protected.

Increasingly, the interface between digital research and peoples’ daily online behaviour is blurring. When we, for example, use Twitter, it is possible that this mundane activity is producing data that can be used by a researcher. This type of relationship would be governed by a platform’s terms of use, to which a researcher who uses Twitter or social media data must conform.

Learning Objectives

• • To understand what is culture and how does it impact negotiations

• • Evaluate the differential impact of cross-cultural negotiations on outcomes

• • Understand the role of communication in negotiations

• • Get familiar with self-serving biases in cross-cultural negotiations

• • Evaluate how emotions shape outcomes of negotiations

Opening Profile: The Free Trade Agreement between Canada and United States

On October 3, 1987, the Free Trade Agreement (FTA) was signed by representatives of Canada and the United States after two strenuous years of intense negotiations. Canada could be described as a medium-sized economy. Its population is one-tenth the size of the United States, which is considered an economic superpower in comparison. More than 75 percent of its exports go to the United States making the United States Canada’s prime trading partner. By contrast, the United States was exporting less than 20 percent of its products to Canada.

A Royal Commission concluded that Canada’s only means to achieve this stability was to engage in an open free trade partnership with the United States.

The problem was that the United States wasn’t especially interested in such a free trade partnership agreement.

The first step that Canada took was in the form of preparation by developing a succinct plan. A chief negotiator, Simon Reisman, was appointed by the Canadian prime minister himself. He established an ad-hoc organization called the trade negotiations office which reported directly to the Canadian Government Cabinet and had access to the highest levels of bureaucracy. It established in no uncertain terms their negotiation goals and objectives which included a strong dispute resolution mechanism that the Canadians felt was vitally important to their success.

In contrast, the United States did not consider the FTA to be especially important and let Canada do all the initial work. The only reason why the US Congress even considered the FTA proposal was that they liked the idea of a bilateral approach to trade and were tired of the previous mechanism that failed to settle a host of trade dispute irritants between the two countries known as GATT.

Strong differences in interests and approaches dogged the negotiations.

The botanical image that so transfixed the Irish public in the autumn-winter of 1845 was that of the putrefying tuber. The sense of foreboding and despair this inspired was captured in a contemporary oil painting – ‘The discovery of the Potato Blight’ – by the Cork-born artist, Daniel McDonald (1821–53). It has graced the cover of several histories of the Irish Famine. Yet the image of the mess of potatoes was symptomatic of a deeper malaise, of a social system that accommodated runaway population increase, leaving its people vulnerable to harvest failure. George Nicholls’ hastily compiled reports on a Poor Law for Ireland in 1838 spoke of a ‘reckless disregard of the future’. Weak landlordism, which might be seen as a consequence, though not a necessary consequence of seventeenth-century colonialism, had accepted or acquiesced in the proliferation of cottier and labouring households, most notably in mountainous localities and west of the Shannon. Strong landlordism would have meant a more interventionist ruling class exercising tighter control over household formation, accompanied by periodic evictions of squatters and smallholders as market conditions changed. To take a nearby comparator, this would have meant a tenurial regime more akin to that of Scotland where landlords were vigilant in controlling access to land and housing. This had a ruthless edge, so the Scottish historical alternative had its downside, particularly in the shorter term. .

Phenomenology is a philosophical tradition that is well integrated into sociology. However, few social scientists have taken the direct route to the roots of phenomenology to either Husserl or Heidegger. They have instead been guided and accompanied by other researchers, whose works have functioned like bridges of knowledge. The work of this kind that has spawned the interest among social scientists in phenomenology is without any doubt Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann’s famous book The Social Construction of Reality (Berger 1970:15; Berger and Luckmann 1991). It is through their works that social scientists have come to appreciate another Austrian social scientist, namely Alfred Schutz (1899–1959). And with the help of Schutz, some have traveled the road all the way back to the father of phenomenology, the German philosopher Edmund Husserl (1859–1938).

Though much knowledge has been generated by researchers that have taken the Berger and Luckmann–Schutz–Husserl road, it comes with some drawbacks, primarily an egological (atomistic) view on human beings. To rectify this problem, this chapter takes the reader on a tour along the second road to phenomenology, which leads us to the German philosopher, the phenomenologist Martin Heidegger (1889–1976). The point of bringing up Husserl and Heidegger is to show that their different versions of phenomenology today are relevant to sociology and other social sciences. The discussion of Heidegger will uncover paradigmatic assumptions (Kuhn 1962) of the social sciences that are taken for granted. It is shown that Heidegger’s ontological approach is a more radical sociological starting point than the Husserlian (Cartesian) egological that has come to dominate the social sciences. To show the concrete implication, this text explains how these two approaches give different accounts of what is one of the most central notions in the social sciences, institutions.

The First Road to Phenomenology: Egological Epistemology

The first road to phenomenology is well-known. When talking to people in the social sciences who have used phenomenology, their story is often identical. After having read Berger and Luckmann, they got interested in Schutz, and they may have studied the works of Husserl, or at least have had a look at it.

Introduction

The experience of European integration provides a challenge to classical realism. The newly partnered states of Western Europe constructed a community narrative of ‘no more war’ embodied by the creation of a security community embodied in economic integration of Original Six of the Treaty of Rome – with its original six members – France, West Germany, Italy, Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg, and West European military integration within NATO (Kupchan, 2010). With these steps, Western Europe turned its back on the fratricide that led to three Franco-German conflicts in less than 70 years, which resulted in two world wars (Stern, 2007).

The twentieth-century international system had Europe as its reference point: first, as the subject of empires in decline; and, subsequently, after World War II, as the object of superpower competition with a divided Germany at the front line (DePorte, 1979). During the Cold War, the debate was dominated by Waltz’s focus in the international relations literature on bipolarity, namely, the ideological and material competition between the United States and the former Soviet Union. Structural realism, also called neorealism, placed the emphasis squarely on the international system, the so-called third image (Waltz, 1959). In hindsight, the waning years of the last century may be perceived as a bridge decade between the fall of the Berlin Wall on 9 November 1989 and the destruction of the Twin Towers on 11 September 2001 (Chollet and Goldgeier, 2008). That period from 11/9 to 9/11 bore witness to the rise of the internet as the driver of the latest phase in the history of globalisation, namely, the information and communications technology revolution. This latest turning point in world history featured a frequently disorienting experience of contrasts between old-world hierarchies and new social networks (Ferguson, 2019).

The early twenty-first century has experienced a series of three inflexion points. The first came right at the end of the bridge decade with the attacks on the United States in 2001. Less than a decade later, the world experienced the financial crisis of 2007–8, which left many Western countries in a state of future shock (Aliber and Kindleberger, 2015).