Monday, October 21, 2024

Review of Tim Harford Data Detective

 Statistical Literacy – the Golden Rules

A Review of Tim Harford’s The Data Detective: Ten Easy Rules to Make Sense of

Statistics

Stephanie Budgett1

The University of Auckland

Amy Renelle2

The University of Auckland

Curiosity is the wick in the candle of learning

~William Arthur Ward

Setting the Scene

As statistics educators, our overarching goal is to instill in our students an appreciation

for the stories that can be told from data. Storytelling, however, is never straightforward.

Surely, we can remember times where we have been in the thrall of an experienced

raconteur with a penchant to up-sell narratives with a healthy sprinkling of imagination

and exaggeration in order to pique the interest of their readers or listeners. Given we are

living in a “post-truth” world, where “alternative facts” and “fake news” permeate the

airwaves, equipping students with the skills to distinguish fact from fiction is more

important than ever (Ridgway, Nicholson, & Stern, 2017).

Seventy years ago, in his presidential address to the American Statistical Association,

Samuel S. Wilks commented, “Perhaps H. G. Wells was right when he said, “statistical

thinking will one day be as necessary for efficient citizenship as the ability to read and

write”!” (Wilks, 1951, p. 5). Fast-forward four decades to Katherine Wallman’s

presidential address where she offered her perspective on the breadth of views about the

definition of statistical literacy from within and beyond the statistics education discipline:

““Statistical Literacy” is the ability to understand and critically evaluate statistical results

that permeate our daily lives – coupled with the ability to appreciate the contributions

1

2

s.budgett@auckland.ac.nz

alin717@aucklanduni.ac.nz

The Mathematics Enthusiast, ISSN 1551-3440, vol. 20, nos. 1, 2 & 3, pp. 256-265.

2023 © The Authors & Department of Mathematical Sciences, University of MontanaBudgett & Renelle, p. 257

that statistical thinking can make in public and private, professional and personal

decisions” (Wallman, 1993, p. 1).

Since then, there has been much debate regarding the definition of statistical literacy.

Jane Watson (1997) initially developed a view of statistical literacy that was centered on

media reports and focused on the data consumer, later widening her definition to

incorporate awareness and experience of how data is produced (Watson, 2013). In 2002,

Iddo Gal conceptualized statistical literacy by proposing a framework comprised of

knowledge elements and dispositional elements. He contended that statistical literacy

applied to data consumers and described the ability to interpret and critically evaluate

statistically based information from a wide range of sources and to articulate a reasoned

opinion based on such information. He stated “[I]t follows that adults should maintain in

their minds a list of “worry questions” regarding statistical information being

communicated or displayed” (Gal, 2002, p. 17). Many others have contributed to the

statistical literacy debate (e.g., Garfield & Ben-Zvi, 2007; Rumsey, 2002; Sharma, 2017,

Snell, 2003; Utts, 2003, Weiland, 2017).

Rob Gould’s (2010) visionary reflection of the style and content of statistics courses noted

that things needed to change if we are to move with the times. His three challenges to the

statistics education community were to (1) Redefine Data – recognizing that data need

not be confined to ‘numbers’, (2) Create Citizen Statisticians – recognizing that the

separation of consumer and producer makes little sense in today’s world when students

are both consuming and producing data, and (3) Teach Technology – recognizing that, in

order to access and make sense of the plethora of freely-available data, some coding and

programming skills are required. More recently, he proposed an augmented definition of

statistical literacy incorporating data literacy, in recognition of the growing significance

of data in our daily lives (Gould, 2017).

Yes, data and information permeated our daily lives in 1993. But today, data is

omnipresent, and the types of data to which we are exposed is changing constantly, as

noted by Gould (2017). We are living in a world awash with data and information. Every

day we consume data and information to make everyday decisions. It cannot be avoided.TME, vol. 20, nos. 1, 2 & 3, p. 258

We consult interactive websites and information dashboards, manipulating complex

multivariate data to discover things about the world around us. Given the information-

laden society we now live in, everyone needs to have a level of statistical literacy to make

sense of data. In Gould’s words, there is a need for Citizen Statisticians. Not only are we

required to passively consume data and information, “[I]n the future, everyone will need

some data analysis skills.” (reflection of Roger Peng in Gould, et al., 2018).

All the above begs the question: How do we equip citizens to be statistically literate?

Unfortunately, we don’t have the answer. However, respected and talented

communicators, such as Tim Harford, can help us on our journey to improve everyone’s

statistical literacy.

Harford is the recipient of multiple awards, largely thanks to his many contributions to

improving public understanding of economics. His engaging and entertaining prose

draws the curious reader in, effectively bridging the gap between academic statistics

education researchers and Joe Public. He was awarded an OBE in 2019 for “services to

improving economic understanding”. As a senior columnist at the Financial Times, and

presenter of the popular investigative BBC Radio’s More or Less, he is a familiar media

figure in the UK. Others will know him from his previous books such as The Undercover

Economist and Fifty Things That Made the Modern Economy.

In his most recent book The Data Detective: Ten easy rules to make sense of statistics

(the North American edition, for the worldwide edition look for How to Make the World

Add Up: Ten Rules for Thinking Differently About Numbers), Tim Harford provides his

audience with a list of ‘rules’ to follow when dealing with statistical claims. The rules are

cleverly illustrated via both entertaining anecdotes and respected academic research.

Much of what is covered by Harford’s ten rules aligns with the human behaviours

identified by academics to be crucial in the development of statistical literacy.

Let’s take a closer look, through the collective lenses of two statistics educators.Budgett & Renelle, p. 259

Harford’s Rules

Harford’s first two rules, Rule 1: Search Your Feelings, and Rule 2: Ponder Your Personal

Experience, reference our emotions and our individual knowledge. Going somewhat

against the grain, Rule 1 proposes that, when presented with a new piece of information,

we should ask ourselves: “How does it make me feel?” This advice seems contrary to the

belief that decision-making should be based on statistical evidence rather than on one’s

emotions. Indeed, much is known about the biases we succumb to when we use heuristic

reasoning for making decisions under uncertainty (Tversky & Kahneman, 1974). If a new

piece of information with which we are presented appeals, or aligns with our prior beliefs,

we are likely to look for reasons to believe it. If not, we are likely to look for reasons to

challenge it. Rule 1 suggests that, rather than blindly reacting on the basis of a particular

emotion, we take time to understand where that emotion came from.

Rule 2, to Ponder your personal experience, highlights the fact that an individual worm’s-

eye view can often be in conflict with the bird’s-eye view that statistics can offer. A

comparison of Harford’s own commuting experience with the occupancy statistics

provided by Transport for London seemed at odds. As noted by Hans Rosling, our

instincts based on personal experience, can serve to distort our view of the world (Rosling

et al., 2018). Relying on the worm’s-eye view is likely to give us a warped sense of reality.

Somehow amalgamating the worm’s-eye and bird’s-eye views can contribute to a deeper

understanding of the underlying situation.

Rule 3, to Avoid Premature Enumeration, aligns with the important idea of defining

measurements. Let’s start off with a deceptively simple question: how would you define

‘sheep’? Rule 3 is reminiscent of Jessica Utts’ Critical Component 3, claiming that sound

statistical studies and accompanying media reports should detail “[the] exact nature of

the measurements made, or the questions asked” (Utts, 2014, italics as in original, p. 20).

Harford provides an entertaining example of how complex defining measures can be,

courtesy of Michael Blastland, creator of BBC Radio 4’s More or Less. How many sheep

are in the image below (Figure 1)? Is a lamb a sheep? At what point is an unborn lamb a

sheep? Is the correct answer one? Or two? Maybe two and a half? Or three? Figuring out

what reported statistics are referring to is a vital first step in being able to drawTME, vol. 20, nos. 1, 2 & 3, p. 260

appropriate conclusions. Added to this, it is also important to pay attention to definitions

when comparisons are being made. If comparisons happen over time, have definitions

changed? If comparisons occur between countries, do those countries share common

definitions of what is being compared?

Figure 1. Defining ‘sheep’?

Harford describes several scenarios in which issues with definitions contributed to

inaccurate claims and conclusions. Examples include infant mortality, violence, gun

deaths and self-harm, not to mention ‘sheep’! Yet, the question remains: how can we, as

statistics educators, encourage consumers of statistics (i.e., everyone!) to be curious about

definitions?

Once the definitional aspect is sorted and we know what we are looking at, we need to

figure out how closely to look at it. Focusing on the difference between taking an

individual view, compared with an aggregate standpoint, Rule 4: Step Back and Enjoy the

View demonstrates how our inference may change depending on how closely we examine

the picture. What we see is often related to how frequently we look; for example, perhaps

unemployment – once we understand the definition being used – in the UK has increased

this past month, but decreased since the 1980s, yet increased since the end of WW2.

Politicians are notorious for carefully picking two points in time that conveniently portray

the statistical story that supports their argument. See Young (2012) for a media report

describing precisely this. Harford describes the media-hype surrounding a story, in April

2018, that London’s murder rate had surpassed that of New York. While true at that

specific point in time, taking a step back demonstrated that monthly fluctuations can

paint a very different picture to that of trends across a longer period of time. In theBudgett & Renelle, p. 261

absence of rules or guidelines indicating how to pick points in time to make comparisons,

the only way to avoid the trap of succumbing to media spin is for the reader (or listener)

to ask questions. Why compare these specific times? What does the overall trend look

like? Critically questioning claims is a key attribute of a statistically literate person (e.g.,

Gal, 2002).

Harford’s fifth rule, Rule 5: Get the Backstory, casts the spotlight on the idea that, just as

happens in the media, novel and exciting scientific findings are more likely to be

published in academic journals than dull and uninteresting ones. The media rarely, if

ever, provide the backstory to a scientific finding. Without doing one’s own background

research, the reader is ill-equipped to place specific findings in a wider context, or to

consider how those findings compare or contrast to previous related discoveries. To

Harford’s credit, he considers the findings from the numerous studies he has presented

in his previous chapters and asks how he knows that those studies were credible. His

answer? “I cannot be certain” (p. 131). He suggests that discerning the good from the bad,

in terms of science journalism, may be possible by asking a few questions which will be

familiar to those with some knowledge of the statistical literacy research base (e.g., Gal’s

“worry questions” (2002) and Utt’s Seven Critical Components (2004)).

Rule 6: Ask Who is Missing captures the spirit of the statistical concept of

representativeness. Through a series of illuminating examples, Harford demonstrates

that much of ‘research-based accepted wisdom’ may not be entirely what we thought it

was. An increasing awareness of studies involving WEIRD subjects (Western, Educated,

from Industrialised Rich Democracies) brings into question the relevance of the findings

for non-WEIRD groups. Harford describes the impact of not paying enough attention to

the missing people (selection bias) and the missing responses (non-response bias). This

particular idea corresponds to the second of Gal’s (2002) “worry questions” which he

promoted as supporting “the process of critical evaluation of statistical messages and

[leading] to the creation of more informed interpretations and judgments” (p. 17).

Harford cautions the reader not to be seduced by big data, highlighting that a thirst for

N=All might lead us to an acceptance of N=Everyone who has signed up for a particular

service. Such a compromise is risky and, despite perhaps having a huge dataset, willTME, vol. 20, nos. 1, 2 & 3, p. 262

inevitably lead to misleading findings. For example, a sentiment analysis of tweets on

Twitter will only give us a snapshot of Twitter users’ thoughts on a topic of interest, and

the snapshot is unlikely to resemble that of non-Twitter users.

Examining the black hole of big data, Rule 7: Demand Transparency When the Computer

Says No reminds us that we need to exercise caution when interpreting the output of

‘mysterious’ algorithms which, having been fed with large amounts of data, are

increasingly being used in decision-making. Harford provides several stories where

questionable, and often damaging, judgments were made. Quoting respected statistician

and fellow OBE Sir David Spiegelhalter, “There are a lot of small data problems that occur

in big data. They don’t disappear because you’ve got lots of the stuff. They get worse.” (in

Harford, 2014, p. 15). In light of Gould’s (2017) enhanced definition of statistical literacy

(SL), “Big data are ubiquitous in our society, and developing SL in the context of big data

is equally important as developing SL with more traditional data types” (p. 24). Big data

therefore deserves scrutiny in all statistics classrooms.

Harford’s Rule 8: Don’t Take Statistical Bedrock for Granted opens with the story of how

and why a woman, Alice Rivlin, would become the first director of the Congressional

Budget Office (CBO), the agency which would provide budgetary advice to congress.

Agencies such as the CBO tend to be taken for granted, likened in many ways to our

sewerage systems which are inclined to suffer from neglect until a problem arises. We

learn how global leaders distrust statistical agency predictions that don’t conform to their

own beliefs, much like the biases mentioned earlier, but perhaps with more disastrous

consequences. What we also discover is that independent statistical agencies are essential

if we are to understand the world in which we live. Today, with increased access to data,

there is a need to engage with the proposal of Gal and Ograjenšek (2017) to further

conceptualize the skills required to develop official statistics literacy. It would be fair to

say that official statistics are not perfect, they can certainly be tweaked and distorted by

those in power. However, we need to stand in unity with those honest and forthright

statisticians who have been threatened and commend them for staying true to their cause.Budgett & Renelle, p. 263

The deceptive beauty of data visualizations comes under the microscope in Rule 9:

Remember that Misinformation Can Be Beautiful, Too. “Familiarity with graphical and

tabular displays and their interpretation” is the third component of the statistical

knowledge base outlined by Gal (2002, p. 11), otherwise known as “Document Literacy

tasks [which] require people to identify, interpret, and use information given in lists,

tables, indexes, schedules, charts and graphical displays” (p. 8). Creating graphs and

interpreting them is commonplace in statistics classrooms. But do we spend enough time

highlighting how we can be manipulated by crafty data visualizations? Referencing WW1

battleships and their clever attempts at misdirection, Harford suggests that visualizations

can use “[dazzle] camouflage [that is] intended to provoke misjudgments” (p. 219). Dazzle

camouflage, in a statistics context, refers to a graph so stunning that you forget it’s telling

you a load of nonsense. From the dodgy pie chart to emotive renditions of a simple bar

graph, colour, scale, units, and other cunning manipulations takes a statistician’s best

friend and turns it into a beautifully photoshopped catastrophe. But, when something

looks so good, how can we motivate anyone to take their eyes off the shine for long enough

to recognise they are being serenaded by a statistical sea siren.

Harford’s final rule, to Keep an Open Mind, draws many threads together effectively

through a simple example. Imagine you are at a wedding and, in conversation with those

at your table, you predict whether or not you think the marriage will last. The tendency is

for us to consider what we know about the couple, searching our feelings and pondering

our personal experience. Harford advocates for us to activate Rule 4 and to Step Back and

Enjoy the View by considering the rate of failed marriages in the population of interest.

Not an easy feat. How to define ‘marriage’? And should one consider marriages between

people of the same age, education level, …, as the couple in question?

Wrapping Up

The common thread throughout this review, and indeed throughout Tim Harford’s

engaging book, is the need to inspire curiosity. We see this in statistics education all the

time, the ultimate challenge of how to motivate statistical consumers to take a critical

stance such that “...adults hold a propensity to adopt, without external cues, a questioningTME, vol. 20, nos. 1, 2 & 3, p. 264

attitude towards quantitative messages that may be misleading, one-sided, biased, or

incomplete in some way, whether intentionally or unintentionally” (Gal, 2002, p. 18).

Harford’s Golden Rule: Be Curious emphasises this goal. Everyone should read The Data

Detective - it’s a valuable and highly accessible resource - but the chances are, until

curiosity is piqued in all statistical consumers, Harford may fail to reach his intended,

broad audience. If so, the task of encouraging curiosity among statistical consumers falls

to us, the statistics educators. For us, at least, The Data Detective will represent a highly

practical and engaging tool in our statistical literacy education toolbox.

Tuesday, June 25, 2024

Yamomo

 

“Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed by Theresa Beyer

meLê yamomo and Theresa Beyer

16

Theresa Beyer: Your research reflects on music in the context of global econo- mies, colonialism, and patriarchy, and pursues a performative practice exploring these same issues. What does institutional critique mean for you?

meLê yamomo: In a healthy democracy, criticism is necessary. However, the consideration of how equal the relationship between the institution asking for cri- tique and the people it is asked from is even more pertinent. I would then refor- mulate your question from ‘what is institutional critique?’ into ‘for whom is institutional critique?’ What matters most is for whom and by whom is the critique formulated.

As a researcher, artist, and activist, I’ve sat on both the institution and commu- nity sides. From the institutional perspective, I wonder how a (invitation for) cri- tique is a defensive response by hegemonic institutions. I’m curious to what extent it is a social experiment in how far institutions can push their power envelope with the least wrist slaps from civil society. What might come across as a critique of an institution is often simply a statement of basic needs for equal political and eco- nomic rights from a disenfranchised community.

TB: In recent years, several important contemporary music festivals have addressed post-colonialism and diversity, with the awareness of these issues in curation definitely growing. What is your impression? How serious are these insti- tutions about this?

T. Beyer (*)
Basel, Schweiz
e-mail:
theresa.beyer@srf.ch

m. yamomo
University of Amsterdam, Amsterdam , Netherlands

© The Author(s) 2024 195 C. Grüny and B. Farnsworth (eds.), New Music and Institutional Critique,
Ästhetiken X.0 – Zeitgenössische Konturen ästhetischen Denkens,
https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-662-67131-3_16

196 m. yamomo and T. Beyer

MY: I don’t think European contemporary music, with its relationship to European classical aesthetics, is where paradigmatic shifts could happen. My decolonial research and practice reveal the limitations of the hermeneutic logic of contemporary European aesthetics. In considering the contemporary practice of Neue Musik for example, I see Europe polemicising itself within its hermetically sealed aesthetical and musical logic. Even when it purports artistic revolution, it lacks the epistemic humility to converse with non-European artists and aesthetics without relegating them as either foreign ‘migrants’ or exotic bodies and knowl- edge to be extracted. In this Eurocentric imagining, terms such as ‘migrant’ formu- late colonially constituted roles, and expectations of how (non-white) bodies and the knowledge they carry exclude them from the institutional practice of artistic legitimisation and canonisation. In such an imagination, movements of bodies, ideas, and aesthetics are unequal: Europe is the centre where non-white bodies immigrate, whereas European aesthetics are imposed on the rest of the world by European ex-pats or philanthropic cultural institutions. Or when it does permit pre- viously ‘othered’ bodies within its institutions, they are the ones who have success- fully embodied the canons and aesthetics—as the trophy children of colonialism.

Postcolonial theorist Homi Bhabha calls this the ‘metonymy of presence’: An English colonial subject can only be Anglicised but will never be fully English. Through this lens, the empire will never recognise the colonised as a complete being. Rather the empire only sees the insufficiency of the ‘Other’ in its aspira- tional mimicry of the European ‘Self’. Suppose we apply Bhabha’s critique to European ‘contemporary music’ (a practice originating from and situated in German classical music tradition). In this case, contemporary music composed by non-Europeans and outside the central European aesthetics will only be a meton- ymy—an incomplete Germanified copy of the standardised German aesthetics.

Despite knowing that Europe’s interaction with non-European aesthet- ics brought about the ‘contemporary’ in European art, these aesthetic develop- ments operate within the colonial and neo-liberal capitalist logic. Contemporary European aesthetics is colonial because it extracts and usurps non-European aes- thetic systems to produce its appropriated ‘contemporaneity’ which, in turn, it sells as a universal cultural necessity to the rest of the world (that simultaneously spawns more self-referential value and surplus profit).

TB: Still, contemporary music programming is more diverse than 10 years ago. Isn’t this evidence that things are slowly changing, at least?

MY: I look at this from a Marxist perspective. Through such a lens, we can unravel the relationship and flows of power, economics, and aesthetics. Today neo-liberal capitalism has developed in a specific way: ‘Wokeness’, feminism, and queerness are usurped by capitalism. The latest mutation of capitalism generates market value and surplus profit from feminist, queer, or Black Lives Matter move- ments. Decolonialism is the latest edition to this. An entire ‘decolonial industry’ is now operating to generate social and cultural capital that circles back to cultural institutions to maintain and amplify their hegemonic status.

16 “Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed ... 197

Classical concert halls opening up their stage for Black musicians or queer musicians are not necessarily interested in Black or queer artists. These curatorial acts often usurp the Black or queer body to perform a self-congratulatory act that reinstates their cultural relevance—while simultaneously policing. Usually, the marginalised bodies permitted in such houses or festivals are by those who have ‘culturally integrated’ into the canons and repertoires of these institutions.

What used to be excluded—other musics and sound cultures—may also now be welcomed in today’s music programming. But they are merely added to or included in an existing canon that remains unquestioned. Hence, contemporary music perpetuates an imperialist stance in its refusal to consider other systems as equal.

TB: With your practice, you aim to reveal the power structures behind music, asking who is allowed to define what music is. You define a broader under- standing of sound. What are the challenges of such an approach when you enter institutions?

MY: I am perpetually confronted with many colonial mechanisms, such as the constant need to legitimise myself within Eurocentric institutions. White male composers freely speak for themselves and their art. Before I could even get to the point of creation, I had already used half of my energy and time to legitimise my presence, my work, and my being. I have to justify my brown queer body and my embodied archive of aesthetics and practices—made illegible and invisible through the white and heteronormative lens of Western history and institutions.

The institutionalisation of music, theatre, and art is Eurocentric and, thus, imperial projects. As a project, its intellectual labour invested in the standardi- sation of aesthetics that privileged the male bourgeois able, cis, straight white European. Throughout my childhood and early adulthood, despite studying and embodying an academic appreciation of European music, I always felt alienated by its repertoire. It would take several more decades, after a Masters, a PhD, and a postdoctoral project, that I would understand that my discomfort was less about my intellectual or artistic flaws in relation to the canon. Rather, this was an experi- ence of epistemic violence. Not only am I demanded to think and feel inadequate to the ‘universalised’ subjectivity of this canonised repertoire, but as an artist I am punished for having my artistic failure equated to my inability to embody a hegemonic identity—the very identity which oppresses my queer and racialised being.

These conditions led me to a paradigm shift in my thinking and practice. I decided to bring my artistic and intellectual work outside the disciplines of music and theatre. I now purposefully situate my thinking and practice in performance and sound. Within these epistemological spaces, I strive to find new praxes of per- formativity, listening, social dramaturgies, and social compositions parallel to or outside the European logic of theatre and music.

My decolonial method working within the sound discourse is a liberatory act to remove myself from the hegemonic framework of music. I think about the

198 m. yamomo and T. Beyer

multiplicities of sound practices without the need for polemics or defensiveness from music’s imperialism. So, to circle back to the topic of our conversation, I see ‘contemporary music’ as just one province among the multitude of sound cultures.

TB: Is this one of the reasons why you decided to go to a university instead of a conservatory when you came to Europe?

MY: Before coming to Europe, I already studied theatre and music in art school and completed a BA in Art Studies. I came to Europe to study for a university MA through a scholarship from the EU. After that degree, I wanted to further study music composition or opera directing in an art school. However, as a self-funded student from the Philippines without income, I could not afford it. But also, 15 years ago, the aesthetics of most European art schools and the type of students they attract and recruit were far from my artistic and biographical profile.

I was, however, offered a funded PhD position in Munich, which I accepted. My focus shifted towards academic research. This opened up a different way of looking at music, theatre, and the arts. But it also put me on another career rail track. Back then, I thought I had left behind my artistic practice. It took me several years before I circled back. And it would take a while to realise that the two paths I followed would merge and open up new roads. Retrospectively, I am grateful that I did not go to an art school. If I had done that, my studies would have imposed on me the canons that had to be replicated, and trained me to commit to its insti- tutional hierarchies that I would have been expected to climb up and symbolically preserve.

TB: You mean the hierarchy of how to build an artistic career?

MY: In continental Europe, artistic careers are shaped by training institutions that prepare you for the production needs of concert halls, theatres, museums—the cultural institutions, or from a neo-liberal capitalist perspective: industries.

The contemporary development in art schools and art institutions is entangled with the economic shifts of the twenty-first century—where efficiency, low invest- ment/high profit philosophy becomes the rule perpetuating a self-serving industry. Students are trained for skills that replicate the canon and that are useful to the standardised repertoire—which means critical thinking (towards the institutions) would not be encouraged.

Institutionalised degree-granting schools train students in the profession of acquiring privileges (degrees, awards, and institutional affiliations). To stay in this career, one must learn to collect as much privilege within the institution as possi- ble. This obfuscates how these institutions and their practices are intertwined with centuries-old epistemologically violent constructions and modes of operation.

TB: What role do these constructions play in the political and economic situation of the present?

16 “Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed ... 199

MY: When neo-liberalism prioritises efficiency, it means relying on the status quo. When institutions’ artistic and curatorial programming is dependent on ‘mar- ket-safe’ productions, it perpetuates the trap of colonialism, patriarchy, racism, and classism. This, in turn, informs the training provided in art schools that are also pressed to design efficient syllabi that is complementary to the needs of the mar- ket. If we consider that an art career is about collecting privileges, this means that diversity in student recruitment and artistic programming is less about the diversi- fication of aesthetics and new perspectives, but rather a diversification of the mar- ket. Art education and art institutions maintain the imperial regime by reinforcing the dominant canons and aesthetics by recruiting ‘diverse’ students and performers as the industry’s new labourers and prospective market of the dominant repertoire.

TB: How does this relate to your own discursive position? Would you agree that constantly experiencing borders and exclusions lead to critique becoming an embodied practice?

MY: I am a post-migrant Filipino-Dutch person. I was born, raised, and educated until my Bachelor’s degree in the Philippines. I moved to Europe 14 years ago for graduate studies and have since lived and worked in the Netherlands and Germany. Having a hyphenated position, I constantly ask myself: Where are my privileges? And where are my marginalisations? We all have the coloniser and the colonised within us. How do both roles play out within me? In her famous essay from 1988, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak asked: ‘Can the subaltern speak?’ The short of her answer is no. To hear the subaltern means that they already speak the language of the empire and have ceased to be subaltern. I critically reflect on my flawed posi- tionality in how I speak about my decolonial work in the language of the empire.

TB: Would you go so far as to say that the patriarchal, colonial system has made you an ally?

MY: I will respond to this question with an analogy from the tech industry. Silicon Valley tech companies employ the very hackers that reveal the weaknesses and vulnerabilities of these multinational corporations’ systems. Paradoxically, the expertise of the hackers is utilised to make the very systems that they are break- ing better. In my work, I have to be aware of this potential to be instrumentalised. When a festival or an institution invites me and my art or research, am I just then hired as a ‘hacker’? When I criticise the hegemonic system, am I then complicit in making the same system stronger? This makes me extremely careful in choosing whom to collaborate with.

TB: In Ballhaus Naunynstraße in Berlin, you host your own festival and con- cert series called Decolonial Frequencies, where you decide with whom you col- laborate. The theatre is a safe space where nobody has to legitimise themselves, a space dedicated to the perspectives of queer people, artists of colour, and

200 m. yamomo and T. Beyer post-migrant experiences. How do you address the issue of framing when you are

the curator?

MY: The agenda to engage sound cultures more democratically and in a decolo- nial way is the driving impetus for the Decolonial Frequencies Festival. The festi- val was intended to serve as a laboratory to practise and experiment with different decolonial strategies and methodologies through soundings and listening.

I strive to give my collaborating artists as much autonomy as possible. I want them to honestly criticise me as a curator. They should be able to tell me when they think I am trying to frame them. The goal is not to extract their knowledge for my gain. We reflected together on how their practice might be subjected to translation for white legibility or to be objectified as ethnographic subjects to be catalogued.

TB: What would happen if you did the same series in another venue?

MY: The issue of legitimisation, white gaze, and performative expectations con- sciously or subconsciously come into operation. Even at Ballhaus Naunynstraße, the relational dynamics shift as soon as a white male body comes in during rehearsals. But I’m curious to find other spaces and contexts where such practice and experiment could transpire.

TB: Do you think these spaces can have an impact on bigger institutions and ini- tiate change? Where would you place Ballhaus Naunynstraße in the institutional matrix?

MY: Ballhaus Naunynstraße opens up a space and working condition that avoids the default modus operandi of white institutions. In the work that I do there, con- ventional expectations and categories of success are postponed: Feminist, queer and decolonial positions require space and context to fail—over and over again. Ballhaus Naunynstraße is one of the places where we strive to create such a safe space.

TB: I would like to come back to one point: You said that it is not your objective to make the artists participating in Decolonial Frequencies Festival legible for the white European audience. Why do you feel this is a risk?

MY: First, I’d like to distinguish between the white gaze and the European audi- ence. The white gaze is not necessarily a white body perceiving. The white gaze can be internalised even by racialised minorities. Hollywood and classical music institutions embedded this white gaze in all of us through colonial education. Secondly, not all European audiences are white. One of the persistent problems of the European project is it imagines itself as homogeneously white. This negates the presence of brown and black Europeans, who are constantly made invisible by white supremacy.

16 “Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed ... 201

Now to answer your question: Critical theory has allowed us to identify, name, and analyse the hegemonic systems of patriarchy, colonialism, and heteronor- mativity. However, being able to identify them doesn’t mean we are not within these systems. And it also doesn’t mean that we are free from acting within these hegemonic system’s scripts or social dramaturgies. Through our education, cul- tural upbringing, and socialisation, racism, sexism, homophobia, classism, and ableism are embedded within us. We are complicit to it even as queer people of colour. We are programmed to perform for the white gaze and ear. We are his- torically conditioned to address such expectations. Conservatories and art schools train bodies to serve the cultural industry structured for white spectatorship. The careers of many women, queer, or racialised artists are based and dependent on this. As an artist, I have to be self-critical in how these systems are manifested in my practice. As a curator, I need to be mindful that the artists I work with and their careers are intertwined with the dominant art and music institutions that enable precarity towards women, queer folks, and people of colour.

Entangled with cultural institutions are the academic institutions that might also frame and usurp the decolonial practices of the artists within the anthropological gaze of academia. The artists I collaborate with and their practices could easily be extracted by the self-serving decolonial industry of European academic institu- tions. Maybe we have to turn this around by framing Europe and asking how these institutions can lead us to change.

TB: Let’s turn to your own research. You have worked with archival institutions such as the Berlin Phonogramm-Archiv. Can you say something about your expe- rience there?

MY: It took me 4 years to get access to the Berlin Phonogramm-Archiv, despite having a prestigious research grant from the Dutch government. Institutional archives are very strict gatekeepers who decide who can enter and who is allowed to formulate a discourse around the archival objects. Thus, archives as institutions are complicit to the canon-making and gatekeeping of musical imperialism. I have to point out however that this is already shifting. Whether this is because of the conversation that emerged from the research project and the festival, or because of the change of leadership—or both, it is good to see small changes happening in institutional policies.

TB: Many of your research projects deal with archives, their exclusions and their entanglement in colonial politics. Can you tell us more about them?

MY: In my project Sonic Entanglements (funded by the Dutch Research Council 2017–2022), I built relationships with colonial sound archives in Europe with communities in Southeast Asia. Last year (2022), we made significant steps in arranging the repatriation of colonial sound recordings from the twentieth cen- tury back to the source community. My new EU-funded project, DeCoSEAS (Decolonizing Southeast Asian Sound Archives), is a consortium between partners

202 m. yamomo and T. Beyer

in the Netherlands, France, UK, Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Laos that aims to reexamine the flows of knowledge productions and conversations on sonic heritage. In this project, three key points inform our decolonial intervention into sound and music archives: Access to the cultural materials is the first tiny step to decolonising the archives and the history of sound and music. The paradig- matic shift towards true decolonisation begins with the transfer of Agency in the access and use of these materials to the stakeholders of heritage and, therefore, towards the reshaping of Discussion on the topic from the community’s perspec- tive. DeCoSEAS facilitates the discussion between different stakeholders in the Global South, supports Southeast Asian stakeholders’ agenda towards the claim and reframing of colonial archives, and opens the discussion between former colo- nial capitals in a transregional collaborative effort to decolonise.

TB: This change of perspectives and the active exposure and deconstruction of colonial power relations seems to be crucial to your performances as well as your research. Your PhD was about theatre and music in Southeast Asia in the mid- nineteenth to mid-twentieth centuries. What learnings from that research shape your work with archives today?

MY: During my doctoral research, I learned (in a painful way) how the archives work. I was looking for musicians in nineteenth-century colonial Southeast Asia, and I was consulting the colonial archives in Singapore, Hanoi, Manila, Jakarta, and Bangkok. With the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869, international com- munication, intercontinental travel, and the global economic system were trans- forming. Touring opera, theatre, and music companies were crossing oceans with unprecedented ease. As early as 1867, travelling Italian companies advertised entire opera seasons staged in local theatres in colonial Manila and Jakarta (back then called Batavia). In the archives, I could find the names of the European musi- cians but not necessarily the locals. While exploring the different sections of the archives in Singapore, I eventually found local musicians and theatre performers recorded reports within the police and fire departments.

TB: Why there?

MY: Before the electrification of cities, the music halls were highly flamma- ble because they used candles for lighting. Musicians, ensembles, and perform- ing troupes were required to submit the names of performers and programmes to the police and fire departments to secure performance permits. During the perfor- mance, police officers and firefighters were deployed to concert halls and theatres in case of social disorder or fire. I realised that then, as now, to understand where the colonised are, one must learn how to think like the colonisers. This double consciousness helps me understand the system today.

TB: Your example shows how the West sets a frame about what goes into an archive, resulting in the subaltern remaining invisible.

16 “Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed ... 203

MY: This colonial social order reflected in the archives left legacies in the organ- isation of our contemporary world. The twentieth century was preoccupied with stricter drawings of territorial borders, migration bureaucracies, and passport and visa systems—all in the name of the modern nation-state project. Consequentially, artistic, cultural, and humanistic disciplines were built in support of the nation- state. Histories are written from the national perspective: German history, Dutch history, Filipino history, and Indonesian history.

Archives, universities, concert halls, and opera houses are legitimising insti- tutions of the nation-state. Historians, scholars, and programmers build a histo- riography and cultural ideology around what were included in the archives and canonised by institutions. When music and art histories were standardised in the twentieth century, the legacies of empire and modern states circumscribed the nar- rative. In my research on the nineteenth century, I found archival traces of ‘Manila musicians’ travelling all over the Asia Pacific before their Filipino identity was established. (The Philippine Republic would only be recognised internationally in 1946.) This means they were not recorded as ‘Filipinos’, so they disappeared in the archival system.

Non-European migrant artists have disappeared from history. Filipino histori- ans cannot write about them because they are not in the national archives of the Philippines. Concomitantly, Singaporean, Indonesian, Chinese, or Japanese his- torians, who might come across their records in other national archives, will not write about them because they don’t contribute to the national narrative.

TB: Is there such a thing as decolonial aesthetics?

MY: We must remind ourselves that colonialism is a project that has spanned at least four centuries. It was built with financial, political, and cultural capital sponsored by monarchs, churches, nations, and empires. These value systems are deeply embedded in cultural and social institutions that form intergenerational habitus. Our aesthetics—our habits of perceiving, thinking, and feeling—is the product of centuries of institutional investments. Our current (institutional) aes- thetics is a product of centuries of failures and selectivity in the service of the sta- tus quo.

Decolonial positions never had institutional support. They never had the sup- port of powerful institutions the way classical music always did. I invite us to think about practices that do not put the ‘colonial’ at the centre—whether as an imposed influence, agenda to collude with, or structure to be polemical to. How can we listen and hold the space for indigenous practices that are not legible to the cultural industry? Here, I am aware of the romanticising tendency of pre-colonial fantasies that urban decolonial thinkers, like me, tend to fabulate. To be mindful of practices outside of and purposefully concealed from the imperial matrix, think about how street or queer culture has hidden itself from oppressive regimes. And to consider emergent practices that are yet trying to articulate themselves outside the dominant canon, repertoire, and institutions.

204 m. yamomo and T. Beyer TB: In that sense it seems impossible to clearly distinguish between politics and

aesthetics.

MY: For me, there is no distinction between doing aesthetic work and doing political work. Aesthetics is the affective consolidation of politics, social relations, cultural symbols, and economics. This unity, whose parts are not easily identifi- able by language or reason, forms our perception of what is beautiful. Those who make such distinctions hold systemic privileges to legitimise art that supports their ideology, and to delegitimise practices that are offensive or purposeless to the power structure.

Here lies the critical question: how can we open up new aesthetics? And by aesthetics, I don’t mean this as the normative means of consuming affective experiences that cultural institutions have standardised. I refer to aesthetics as an individual but also a collective understanding and ordering of the world through feelings. How can we account for the struggle of the fabric maker from Vietnam who contributes to the costumes onstage? Or the pained experiences of the chil- dren cobalt-miners that make possible the use of battery-powered stage equipment in a concert? The legacy of colonial aesthetics is typically embodied by the pro- scenium stage, which hides the labour from the frame that displays the pleasurable elements. Thus, institutions are complicit in these concealing and erasures.

Institutional aesthetics begins with knowledge about how to write a grant appli- cation. And it goes all the way to the material realisation of a fictitious world onstage—through human labour, copyright, rentals, and ticket sales. In this sense, institutional aesthetics conventionally support the bourgeoisie, patriarchy, hete- ronormativity, and white values. Thus, in this framework, my intellectual and artistic labour of imagining a world outside such normative systems is never just aesthetic but patently political.

TB: meLê yamomo, I ask you my last question with the risk of hiring you as a hacker: Where should institutions start in order to really open up politically and aesthetically? Or, using the analogy from the beginning of our interview: How do we break the frame?

MY: I am not paid for this interview, Theresa. The knowledge situated in my intellectual work, artistic practice, and political struggle wasn’t hired. I do not offer bite-size, easily digestible answers or solutions to century-old systemic problems. But opening up the conversation, like this one that we are having, is an important step towards better understanding.

Oppressive frames will always be replaced by another oppressive system, says a friend of mine. In replacing the framework, it is not the question of what. Decolonialisation, feminism, or queerness is not a question of what or who. Decolonisation is a method. It asks the question of how and why. The way that hegemonic systems and neo-liberal capitalism is entangled with academic, artistic, and cultural institutions, liberatory practices will not come from these institutions.

16 “Framing Europe”—meLê yamomo Interviewed ... 205

Utopias are imagined outside of institutions, and sometimes they are co-opted within the institutions.

From the decolonial perspective, the ordering of systems, institutions, rela- tions, and emotional experiences confronts us with questions of reimagining futures. How do we re-assemble sounds, spaces, people, and feelings into a hori- zon of a world that brings together beauty, joy, disgust, and pain from the violent past, towards our aspired utopias? How can we consolidate aesthetics outside and beyond the European institutional formulation—towards a new hermeneutic logic that is truly egalitarian and democratic?

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

5 Kreisl austria

 5 Austria: transformation driven by an established party
MARTIN DOLEZAL
Introduction
Austrian post-war politics until the 1980s was a classic example of
stability. For almost forty years after 1945, either the Social Democrats
(SPÖ) or the Christian Democrats (ÖVP) governed the country: from
1945 to 1966 together in a grand coalition, the type of government most
1
oftenassociatedwithAustria. From1966to1983,firsttheÖVP,then the SPÖ (1970–83), managed to 
achieve majorities of their own and built five consecutive single-party governments. Until the early
1980s, voters were extremely loyal to the major parties not least because they were not affected 
by several social and economic problems experienced in other European countries, such as 
mass unemployment, strikes and riots, which famously inspired Pope Paul VI to call Austria an 
‘Island of the Blessed’.
Since the 1980s, Austria has experienced far-reaching developments: the breakdown of Austro-
Keynesianism and nationalized industries led to important changes in macro-economic policy, 
because market forces have become accepted as a legitimate instrument for achieving growth 
(Lauber 1992: 170; Winckler 1988). The end of the communist regimes in neigh- bouring 
countries redeemed Austria from its status as a Western border state, but civil wars in the 
Balkans gave rise to almost forgotten fears for security and led to waves of refugees. EU 
membership was finally achieved in 1995, but quarrels about neutrality, the ‘sanctions’ against 
the govern- ment in 2000, and the opening of borders to East European workers gave rise to 
Euroscepticism. These external developments combined with a declining importance of the once 
dominant model of consociational democracy have resulted in an ongoing reduction of national 
idiosyncra- sies; a process Pelinka (1995) has called ‘De-Austrification’.
1 From 1945 to 1947, the small Communist Party (KPÖ) was included in government to appease the Soviet forces that 
occupied the eastern part of Austria until it regained independence in 1955.
105
106 Martin Dolezal
Austria, therefore, is a good case to exemplify political change since the 1990s. In particular, the 
developments in the party system, above all the rise of the right-wing populist FPÖ, have been 
described as ‘drastic’ (Müller 2000: 46). It is the purpose of this chapter to analyze these 
developments with regard to the general political transformations in Europe. Coming back to 
Pope Paul VI, Austria has certainly lost its character of an island and it is increasingly a part of a 
globalizing world.
Social-economic and political context conditions
The consequences of globalization have a strong impact on all countries and societies. If 
‘happiness is finding a force or event which affects a number of societies at the same time’ 
(Gourevitch 1977: 281), we probably have found this force. Even though globalization is the deci- 
sive factor for the transformation of societal conflicts in European democracies, this does not 
mean that national particularities have lost all of their explanatory power. On the contrary, the 
question if and how the new structural conflict is expressed and incorporated into party 
competition depends on several factors summarized as ‘context condi- tions’. These conditions 
determine, first, the existence or strength of new political potentials and, secondly, the 
possibilities and strategies for their mobilization. Four important factors already introduced in 
Chapter 2 will be briefly discussed: the relative strength of traditional cleavages, the economic 
development, the cultural context, and finally several political factors.
Relative strength of traditional cleavages
The strength of traditional cleavages is negatively correlated with the
new conflict’s potential to mobilize. Assuming a zero-sum hypothesis,
we expect the breakthrough of the new conflict to occur only in those
countries where old divisions are solved or have lost much of their
political salience (see Kriesi and Duyvendak 1995: 5–10). In Austria,
class and religion – more precisely, religiousness because of a religiously
2

4 Kreisl france

 4 France: the model case of party system transformation

SIMON BORNSCHIER
Introduction
France clearly is one of the countries whose political landscape has been profoundly altered in
the past two decades. Although organizational stability has never been a defining feature of the
French party system, the new institutions of the Fifth Republic established in 1958 did
progressively bring about a more stable pattern of ‘bipolar multipart- ism’ (Parodi 1989; Knapp
2002). Since the early 1980s, however, cultural conflicts related to the different conceptions of
norms that should be binding in society, of the way community is conceived, and of the balance of
power between the nation-state and the European Union have emerged. The appearance of
these issues on the political agenda, and the rising prominence of an integration–demarcation
line of conflict lie at the heart of the transformation of the French party system that took place in
the 1980s and 1990s.
As a driving force of this transformation, and as one of the most successful right-wing populist
parties, the French Front National repre- sents something like the ‘prototype’ or the ‘avant-garde’
of a new party family. Earlier than in other countries, the extreme populist right achieved its
electoral breakthrough in a number of second-order elec- tions in the early 1980s. According to
our theoretical framework, the early success of the Front National in comparative terms must be
analyzed in the context of the country-specific political potentials and context structures. And, in
fact, the rise of the political formation founded in 1972 by Jean-Marie Le Pen owes a lot to the
rather sudden decline in salience of the traditional cleavages and to a subsequent realignment in
the country’s party system that took place in the early 1980s (Martin 2000; Perrineau 1997).
The evidence presented in this chapter strongly rejects Kitschelt’s (1995) influential claim that the
Front National represents the master- case of a new type of radical right-wing party by virtue of
the
77
78 Simon Bornschier
combination of an authoritarian and a pro-market appeal. Far from being consistently neo-liberal
in the economic domain, the Front National in the 1990s in fact turned to a programmatic stance
suitable to mobilizing those left behind by the structural transformations of the last decades.
Denouncing globalization and European integration, and in 1996 even chanting slogans such as
‘le social, c’est le Front National’ (Perrineau 1997: 88; Betz 2004), the Front National has moved
to a position of economic, as well as cultural, demarcation. As a conse- quence, a triangular
structure of oppositions has emerged.
At the same time, the 1990s have seen transformations within the French party system that reach
beyond the emergence of this triangu- lar pattern. First of all, the process of European integration
has had a profound impact on party competition, producing a fissure both within the parties of the
left, as well as within the right. It has been the failure of the European Constitutional treaty to gain
majority support that has strikingly brought to the fore the simple truth that voters are strongly
divided in their attitudes towards the integration project. Secondly, the stability of the three-block
model is misleading in the light of a growing fragmentation of the French party system. In 2002,
the number of candidacies reached unprecedented levels in the elections of that year, resulting in
Chirac standing against Le Pen in the second round of the presidential contest. In that election,
the integration–demarcation opposition has become the prime political organizing criterion.
Following the general plan adopted in this book, this chapter begins with a discussion of the
economic, cultural and political context factors relevant to the transformation of the French party
system. Here, the waning of the established cleavages, the repositioning of the Gaullist RPR
(now UMP), and the rise of the European integration question emerge as critical determinants of
the changes affecting the French party system. We then proceed to a comparative analysis of the
positions of parties and voters in the transformed political space between 1978 and 2002. The
analysis reveals a transformation of the cultural divide between 1978 and 1988, the years where
the issues of immigration and security rose to unprecedented importance. In the same time
period, the Front National has become durably entrenched in the party system, mobilizing an
electorate that is clearly distinct from the others by virtue of its position at the demarcation pole of 

kreisl chapter 3

  3 The design of the study: the distinguishing characteristics of our approach

MARTIN DOLEZAL

This study deals with changing conflict structures in West European societies and their mobilization by political parties. In general, there are two basic approaches to handling such a question: the first one con- centrates on the changing relationships between political actors and often resorts to concepts of network analysis (Laumann and Knoke 1987; Laumann and Pappi 1976; Knoke et al. 1996; Scott 2000; Wassermann and Faust 1999). In this book, we follow the second approach and analyze issue-positions of parties as well as of voters, since we are especially interested in the thematic basis of political conflicts. This is not only the standard approach in political science (e.g. Kitschelt 1994, 1995) but has recently become even more impor- tant because of the growing significance of issue-based voting behaviour (Downs 1957; Key 1966; Budge and Farlie 1983a; Franklin 1985; Aardal and van Wijnen 2005). We expect the parties, the main political actors in West European democracies, to select the issues they articulate in party competition as well as their positions strategically. But we also look at the other side of this competition where we are interested in the changing issue-positions of the voters. However, contrary to pure rational choice or individualistic approaches, we combine the issue-based approach with a structural perspective which is focused on the political attitudes of groups. According to our point of view, membership in social groups still constitutes an important basis for the development of issue- preferences. As explained in the two introductory chapters, we conceive of contemporary cleavage structures as being thematically determined by issues linked to globalization and as being structurally rooted in social groups of winners and losers of globalization.

In this chapter, we present the design of our study. First, we briefly review how we selected the countries and elections we cover. Then we explain the kind of methods we used in the analyses of party competition for which we always distinguish two sides: the demand side, i.e. the preferences of the voters, on the one hand, and the supply side, i.e. the

53

54 Martin Dolezal

parties’ programmatic statements, on the other hand. Throughout the subsequent chapters, both aspects of electoral competition will be addressed primarily with spatial concepts resulting in standardized figures that will allow the reader to follow the effect of the new cleavage on the configuration of the national political space in the countries compared. The dimensionality of the space, which is the number of basic lines of conflict, and the content or ‘nature’ of these conflicts, are crucial points in our analysis. Note that we do not start with a priori assumptions of the space’s structure but regard the unfolding of its configuration and the substantive content of its dimensions as a major step of the analysis. As our approach is novel especially concerning the supply side analyses, we shall introduce this part of our exploration, the data sources as well as the method of calculation, in some detail and point out the differences to the dominant approaches in the literature.

Selection of countries and elections

The selection of countries and elections constitutes the first important step of our research design. As the implications of globalization, and the degree and the timing of political change, depend on national specifics (see Chapter 2), we have chosen to conduct a comparative analysis of several countries that controls for explanatory factors at the national level. Nevertheless, there are also pragmatic arguments that guide this step of analysis, concerning, among other things, the heavy workload of the content analysis (see below), other available data sets, and last but not least the language skills of the authors and collaborators. In order to analyze the impact of globalization on the national political space in Europe, we finally selected six West European countries: France, Austria, Switzerland, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom and Germany.

We did not include East European countries in our sample because their democratization did not take place until the beginning of the con- temporary era of globalization so that we cannot compare the political mobilizations before and after this crucial development. East European party systems and voter alignments are also rather fluid, which makes comparisons with established liberal democracies difficult. As regards Western Europe, we discussed including Italy in our analysis but we finally decided against it because political change in this country and the breakdown of the First Republic’s party system in the early 1990s is more the consequence of national idiosyncrasies than elsewhere (see,

The design of the study

55

1

e.g.,Newell2000:177–8). OtherSouthEuropeancountries,especially

Spain, democratised only in the 1970s, which makes temporal compari- sons again problematic. Scandinavian countries, finally, are not included in our sample because of lacking language skills of the authors.

As was shown in Chapter 2, the six countries we finally selected are very similar in many respects, expressing a most similar systems design. All six are stable liberal democracies with consolidated political institu- tions and party systems, and all of them belong to the economically most developed and richest countries worldwide. More generally, the set of societal conditions (cleavage structures, economic and cultural context conditions) has created broadly similar latent political poten- tials in all six countries. However, as argued in the previous chapter, they also present some systematic contextual variations, and the political conditions for the mobilization of these potentials vary con- siderably from one country to the other.

After choosing the countries, the second question concerned the kind

of elections to be included. In general, election campaigns provide a

perfect opportunity to study the major lines of conflict in a society,

because the parties, still the dominant political actors in liberal democ-

racies, are forced to express their opinion on all important issues in a

rather short period of time in order to mobilize their electorate and

win new voters. Thus, the important conflicts become visible for the

researcher. Our comparative analysis focuses on national elections

where we explore the changing conflict structures operationalized as

combinations of the issue-positions of voters (the demand side of electoral

competition) and of parties (the supply side) expressed in the context

2

ofelectioncampaigns. Weconsidernationalcontestsstilltobedecisive for the structuring of the political space. They are more appropriate for our research purposes than European elections, as the latter are mostly second-order national elections (Van der Eijk and Franklin 1996). Comparing, for example, turnout in national and European elections, it is clear that the voters regard the former as much more important; the parties too share this perspective as they clearly invest more resources in national campaigns.

1 Additionally, including Italy in our sample would have led to problems regarding available data for the demand analyses.

2 This also means that we concentrate on the national level of party competition. Various sub-national configurations, as for example in East Germany or in the United Kingdom (e.g. in Scotland), are not dealt with.

56 Martin Dolezal

                                                                                                                                                                  Figure 3.1 The rise of globalization, 1970–2003

Source: KOF Globalization index 2006 (ETH Zurich); see www.globalization- index.org. This index averages the scores of 23 economic, social and political indicators of globalization in 123 countries. Economic indicators include, for example, trade flows, foreign investments and import barriers. Social indicators include tourism, outgoing telephone calls or Internet usage. Political globalization, finally, is operationalized with membership in international organizations and diplomatic relations with foreign countries.

Having decided which countries and what kind of elections we ana- lyze, the last step of the selection process concerned the time period. Globalization is not an entirely new phenomenon, but, because several aspects of the processes related to it accelerated in the late 1980s (see Figure 3.1), we chose to focus primarily on the elections since the 1990s, when the political implications of denationalization became part of partisan politics. In order to analyze the changing conflict structures influenced by globalization processes, we therefore study four elections in each country: three from the 1990s and early 2000s and one from the mid-1970s. The latter serves as a point of reference from a period before the national politics were undergoing the presumed restructuring effect of globalization.

We include several elections from the 1990s in our analysis because we assume, in line with a renewed realignment-theory (Martin 2000), that a structural transformation of national politics may occur across a

The design of the study

57

Table 3.1 Elections

Point of reference in the 1970s

Elections in the 1990s/2000s

1988 1995 2002 1994 1999 2002 1991 1995 1999

  Francea Austriab Switzerland Netherlands UK Germany

1978

1975

1975

1973

1974 (February) 1976

1994 1998

1992 1997 2001 1994 1998 2002

2002 and 2003

 a 1978 election to the parliament; 1988, 1995 and 2002 presidential elections

(as explained in the text).

b We do not analyze the snap election of 1995 because this campaign was dominated to an extraordinary extent by the major parties.

series of critical elections over an extended period of time. In all countries but France, we analyze the national parliamentary elections. In France, the presidential elections are more important (Bell 2000: 1; Knapp 2004: 25), which is why we selected them for our exploration, with the excep- tion of the election in the 1970s. Because no national election study was available for the presidential races in the 1970s, we exceptionally chose the parliamentary elections of 1978 instead. Table 3.1 lists all elections selected for this study.

Two sides of party competition: data collection and analysis

Throughout this book we distinguish between two sides of party competition: the demand side, covering the political preferences of the electorate, and the supply side, summarizing the issue-positions of the parties competing in the elections. Both sides determine the changing conflict structures in European societies. In order to analyse these structures, i.e. the configurations of the issue-positions of voters and parties in the national political space, we constructed a system of twelve issue-categories that cover (almost) all political subjects in Western democracies. These categories will be used for the analysis of both the demand and the supply side. After the introduction of these categories, detailed information will be given on how we collected and analyzed the data.

58 Martin Dolezal Twelve issue categories

Analyzing the issue-attitudes of voters and issue-positions of parties builds the core of our study. For the supply side, we coded the issue- positions with great detail (see below), but, for the analysis, we had to regroup the sometimes more than 200 codes into more encompassing categories. This step is important for both theoretical and technical reasons. From a theoretical perspective, the specific issues raised during a campaign vary from one election to the next as a result of the policy attention cycle, which in turn depends on the development of the policy- making process in the various political subsystems of a given polity (see van der Brug 1999, 2001). Issues may come up on the electoral agenda as a result of internal dynamics in certain political subsystems or as a result of external shocks, catastrophes (such as September 11 in 2001, the flood in Eastern Germany in 2002 or the war in Kosovo in 1999) or economic crises. Although the specific issues raised during a given campaign are, therefore, somewhat unpredictable, they still refer to only a limited set of basic structural conflicts, which they articulate in various ways. The theoretical challenge is to regroup these issues into a limited, but exhaustive, set of basic categories that is capable of captur- ing the underlying dimensions of a conflict and generally applicable for the analysis of a longer time period. Not all national particularities could be taken into consideration. In Germany, for example, we had coded several issues connected to the country’s reunification, but, for the comparative analyses, we did not retain a specific code for reunification. Technically, we also need a limited set of categories in order to have enough cases per category for all elections covered (see below).

In both parts of the analysis, the regrouping of individual, some- times very detailed, issues into the twelve categories is therefore per- haps the most difficult part of the exploration because these decisions heavily influence all further steps of the analysis. As we are interested in how parties and voters respectively position themselves with regard to political issues (direction), it is important to distinguish between support and opposition; all categories are therefore defined in such a way that they include a direction. Table 3.2 lists and describes these twelve categories and includes the abbreviations that will be used in the figures. This system of categories will also be used when analyzing the preferences of voters (the demand side) to enable the comparison of supply and demand, which is a crucial point of our analysis.

The design of the study

59

Table 3.2 Issue-categories Abbreviation in

 Category Welfare

Budget

Economic liberalism

Cultural liberalism

the figures welfare

budget

ecolib

cultlib

Description

Support for an expansion of the welfare state; defence against welfare state retrenchment; support for tax reforms with a redistributive character; calls for employment and health care programmes

Support for a rigid budgetary policy; reduction of the state deficit; cuts in expenditures; reduction of taxes without direct effects on redistribution

Support for deregulation, more competition, and privatization; opposition to market regulation; opposition to economic protectionism in agriculture and other sectors of the economy

Support for the goals of new social movements, with the exception of

the environmental movement; support for cultural diversity, international cooperation (excluding the European Union and NATO); support for the United Nations; opposition to racism; support for the right to abortion and euthanasia; opposition to patriotism, calls for national solidarity, defence of tradition, national sovereignty, and to traditional moral values; support for a liberal drug policy

Support for European integration, including enlargement; support for EU membership in the cases of Switzerland and Austria

Support for education, culture, and scientific research

Support for a tough immigration and integration policy

Support for the armed forces (including NATO), for a strong national defence, and for nuclear weapons

 Europe

Culture Immigration Army

europe

culture immigration army

60

Martin Dolezal

Table 3.2 (cont.) Abbreviation in

 Category Security

Environment

Institutional reform

Infrastructure

the figures security

environ iref

infra

Description

Support for more law-and-order, the fight against crime, and denouncing political corruption

Support for environmental protection; opposition to nuclear energy

Support for various institutional reforms such as the extension of direct democracy, modifications in the structure of the political system, federalism and decentralization; calls for the efficiency of government and public administration, and new public management

Calls for the improvement of the country’s roads, railways, etc.

  The first three categories – welfare, budget, and economic liberalism – refer to the traditional economic opposition between state and market, which is the class-based opposition between left and right. The next six categories – cultural liberalism, Europe, culture, immigration, army, and security – all refer to the cultural dimension of societal conflicts. Finally, there are three additional categories that do not ‘automatically’ belong to one of the two major dimensions of conflict: environment, institutional reform, and infrastructure. However, whether the twelve issue categories indeed build two basic lines of conflict, and which categories belong together, are always empirical questions.

Analysis of the demand side

For the exploration of the demand side, we rely on secondary analyses

of existing surveys. In all six countries but Austria, national election

studies are available and provide detailed information concerning

most of our research questions. In the Austrian case, we depend

on international surveys for the elections of 1975 and 2002, and on

3 3 Also, the Swiss survey of 1975 was part of an international study (see Table 3.3).

less perfect national polls for the elections of 1994 and 1999.

The design of the study 61

Table 3.3 lists all surveys used for this study; detailed information on the variables is given in Appendix A.

Two basic questions guide the exploration of the demand side of party competition: on the one hand, we want to analyze the structure of the political space based on the voters’ attitudes; on the other hand, we are interested in the positions of various social groups in this space: voters of the different parties, members of social classes, groups defined by their level of education and religious affiliations. As discussed in the introductory chapters, according to our theory, social class as well as the level of education are the most important features distinguishing between winners and losers of globalization.

To make the analysis of the demand side comparable between elections

and countries as well as with the analysis of the supply side, we use the

same twelve issue-categories introduced above for both sides of the study.

In a first step, in each survey all variables measuring issue-positions4 of

the voters (or issue-priorities if no positions were asked for) were iden-

5

variable was available for a given category, we factor-analyzed them and

used the common factor instead. In some cases, however, the issues we

associated with a given category on theoretical grounds did not all load

on a single common factor; in these situations, a second category had to

be constructed. These exceptions will be explained in the country chap-

ters. The variables included in the different surveys typically did not allow

covering all categories, i.e. we usually did not have information on every

aspect we are interested in. In particular, attitudes about the budget and

infrastructural projects were very rarely asked. The most important

categories are, however, covered by most surveys. Table 3.4 summarizes

the issue-categories we are able to measure on the basis of the available

data. In a final step, we performed factor analyses (with varimax rota-

tion) of the available categories that always resulted in two-dimensional

6

4 Because we are interested in issue-positions, we did not select left–right scales, materialism–post-materialism scales, and all variables that seemed too vague, such as questions regarding the importance of ‘solidarity’ or the like.

5 For details, see Appendix A.

6 For exceptions, see the country chapters.

tified and regrouped into our system of categories. If more than one

solutions.

calculation constitute the basis for the graphical presentations concerning the demand side in the following chapters, which show the spatial posi- tions of party voters and those social groups we are especially interested

These configurations and the factor scores derived from the

  Table 3.3 Surveys used for the demand-side analyses

France

Austria

Switzerland

1978: Enquête post-électorale française, 1978 (q0062) 1988: Enquête post-électorale française, 1988 (q0601)

1975: Political Action – An Eight Nation Study

1975: Attitudes politiques 1975 (20) (part of ‘Political Action – An Eight Nation Study’)

1995: Enquête post-électorale française, 1995 (q0891)

1994: Sozialwissenschaftliche Studiengesellschaft 9409 1999: Sozialwissenschaftliche Studiengesellschaft 9908

1991: not availablea

1995: Swiss electoral study 1995 (1815) 1999: Swiss electoral study 1999 (6646)

2002: Panel électoral français 2002 (PEF 2002)

2002: European Social Survey 2002–2003 UK

The Netherlands

Germany

1972: Dutch parliamentary election study, 1972, 1973 (P0353)

1974: British Election Study, February 1974 (UKDA study number 359)

1976: Wahlstudie 1976 (ZA0823) 1994: Nachwahlstudie 1994 (ZA 2601) 1998: Politische Einstellungen, politische

1994: Dutch parliamentary election study, 1994 (P1208)

1992: British General Election Study, 1992 (UKDA study number 2981)

Partizipation und Wählerverhalten im

1998: Dutch parliamentary election study, 1998 (P1415)

1997: British General Election Study, 1997 (UKDA study number 3887)

vereinigten Deutschland 1998 (ZA 3066) 2002: Bundestagswahlstudie 2002 (ZA 3861)

2002–3:Dutchparliamentaryelection study, 2002–2003

2001:BritishElectionPanelStudy,2001 (UKDA study number 4620)

a For 1991, there are insufficient issue-questions in the available survey, so we had to exclude this election from the demand analyses.

           Table 3.4 Issue-categories covered by the surveys

France Austria Switzerland The Netherlands UK Germany

1978 1988 1995 2002 1975 1994 1999 2002 1975 1995 1999 1972 1994 1998 2002 1974 1992 1997 2001 1976 1994 1998 2002

Welfare xx xxxxxxx x xxxxxx

Budget x

Economic x x x x

x x

x

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

liberalism

Cultural x x x x x

x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x Europe xx xxxxxxxxxxxxx xx

liberalism

Culturexx

Immigration xxxxxxxxxxxxxx Army x x xxxxxx Security xxxxxxxxxxx xxx

xxxx

xx xxx

Environment Institutional reform

xxxxxxx xxx x x

xx x xxxxx xxxxxxx xx

Infrastructure

x

64 Martin Dolezal

in. To facilitate the interpretation of the corresponding figures, we always rotated the configurations in such a way that the economic left–right dimension is arranged horizontally and the cultural dimension vertically. Pro-state positions are always situated on the left and pro-market posi- tions on the right of the horizontal axis. With respect to the cultural line of conflict, attitudes in favour of integration are always placed at the top, and those favouring demarcation at the bottom of the vertical axis.

The figures for the demand side first include the positions of the voters of the various parties and, when they are not in a centrist position, of non- voters. In general, parties (and all other groups) with less than ten voters in the survey were excluded because the measure of their position was considered unreliable. Apart from the party voters, the figures include the positions of various groups defined by their social class, their level of education, and their religious affiliation. The operationalization of the social classes differs between the explored countries and elections because the available information in the surveys varies widely. Whenever possi- ble, we use a modified version of the Erikson/Goldthorpe class scheme, based on the work of Kriesi (1989, 1998) and Müller (1998, 1999). This classification distinguishes between eight groups: ‘farmers’, ‘other self- employed in non-professional occupations’, ‘semiskilled and unskilled workers including agricultural workers’, ‘skilled workers and foremen’, ‘routine non-manual white collar employees’, ‘managers and other professionals in social-administrative occupations’, ‘professionals with technical expertise’, and ‘social-cultural specialists’. Additionally, we explore the attitudes of voters belonging to the non-labour force. With regard to the level of education, we always compare three groups: ‘low’ education comprises all respondents who completed only compulsory school or less; ‘medium’ education ranges from basic professional train- ing (for example, ‘Lehre’ in the German-speaking countries) to several kinds of high-school graduates (for example, ‘Matura’ in Austria and Switzerland, ‘Abitur’ in Germany); ‘high’ education summarizes all kinds of tertiary education. Finally, concerning the religious cleavage, we com- pare the issue-preferences of Catholics, Protestants and the non-affiliated, as well as the differences between religious and non-religious voters – depending on the country-specific nature of the religious cleavage. A respondent’s religiosity is always operationalized with church-going frequency (see Jagodzinski and Dobbelaere 1995: 87–91).

As explained in Chapter 2, one of our basic hypotheses refers to a ‘zero-sum’ relationship between the strength of old and the potential for

The design of the study 65

new cleavages. In addition to the figures that show the political space, all country chapters therefore include line diagrams indicating the strength of traditional cleavages as well as of new divisions, measured as the difference in the attitudes of their core groups.

Analysis of the supply side

For the analysis of the supply side of electoral competition, we assume that the structural change linked to globalization is articulated by the issue-specific positions taken by the parties in electoral campaigns as well as by the salience they attribute to the different issues. We also consider that the most appropriate way to analyze the positioning of parties and the way in which they deal with the new issues linked with globalization is to focus on the political debate during campaigns, as reflected by the mass media. Our research strategy, therefore, differs from the two so far dominant approaches in the literature: expert surveys (e.g. Castles and Mair 1984; Laver and Hunt 1992; Huber and Inglehart 1995; Benoit and Laver 2006) and the analysis of party manifestos, especially the comparative manifestos project (see Budge et al. 1987, 2001; Klingemann et al. 1994; Volkens 2001).

Expert surveys are a useful and relatively feasible method for estimat-

ing policy positions. But we think there are several major disadvantages

concerning the method per se as well as in relation to our research

question. In general, it remains an open question on which information

experts rely when estimating the parties’ positions (Mair 2001: 24–5).

Sometimes it is also not clear which ‘party’ the experts are positioning:

the party leaders, the activists, the voters, or all three together; in

addition, the designated time period is not always clear (Budge 2000:

103–4). All three objections can be rebutted with a perfect research

design (Steenbergen, Hooghe and Marks 2004), but two additional

factors complicate the estimates: First, the positions of several parties –

especially of small parties – are often difficult to judge because their

attitude concerning issues that are not important for them are often

7

7 Consider, for example, economic or environmental positions of right-wing parties in Germany. Even experts in the field might have difficulties when asked to distinguish the differences between the Republikaner, the DVU and the NPD.

unknown – even to the experts. Secondly, experts tend to deduce a stronger polarization from a higher fragmentation of the party system

66 Martin Dolezal

and therefore provide more widespread estimates for countries with

many parties (Mair 2001: 20–3). With regard to our research question,

finally, developments over time cannot be analyzed with available

data sets based on this method because the survey conducted by Laver

and Hunt (1992) was the first that covered several issues-positions of

the parties and there are no data available on the parties’ positions thirty

years ago. In addition, it is also not possible to operationalize our

system of issue-categories with the available expert surveys, since they

8

tions of parties so far has been the analysis of their manifestos, especially

9

asked too few questions about policy positions.

The most important approach for estimating the programmatic posi-

with human coding.

project (CMP) is the dominant actor in this field of research. The great contribution of this project to comparative politics is the analysis of a large number of countries throughout the post-war period; with respect to the USA, the data set even goes back to the 1920s (Volkens 2001: 34–5). But at least four major problems make it necessary to think of alternatives for getting better information on parties’ positions. First, the CMP is based on the salience theory of party competition, which, in general, neglects the direction of parties’ statements. Extensive research based on party manifestos has, indeed, shown that parties tend to avoid direct confrontation and that they differ from each other mainly through the selective emphasis of their priorities. But we also know that new issues usually do not have a valence character and that direct confrontation – i.e. parties advocating diverging positions on political issues – is much more pronounced in the media and during electoral campaigns than in party programmes (Budge and Farlie 1983b: 281). The voters, too, see the parties mainly in confrontational terms, especially during election campaigns. Secondly, the CMP’s system of issue-categories does not cover important new issues of the 1990s, especially immigration. Statements towards immigration are coded as part of ‘per705 underprivileged minority groups’, and – because of the theoretical base of the CMP – only favourable statements can be included. Thirdly, the overall relevance of party (or electoral)

Without any doubt, the comparative manifestos

8 The choice of policy positions for the survey also strongly influences all further explorations concerning the dimensionality of the space, especially when only few positions are asked for.

9 For computer-generated coding see, e.g., Ray (2001); Garry (2001); and Laver, Benoit and Garry (2003).

The design of the study 67

manifestos is disputable, because voters do not read them. Robertson (1976: 72) rightfully stresses that manifestos provide the basis for statements given by politicians during campaigns, but it is better to directly analyze those statements, which are heard or read by voters; and there is no doubt that contemporary campaigns are primarily fought with mass media. Finally, most manifestos have a kind of soft- focus effect; thus, parties do address several issues but often deliberately avoid clear statements. European integration, for example, is rarely mentioned, and even Eurosceptic parties tend to stress the importance of international cooperation. Furthermore, controversial subjects are sometimes completely excluded from the manifesto. Existing program- matic differences between parties, therefore, tend to be blurred when relying on their manifestos. The mass media, on the contrary, often intensify statements of politicians, which makes it easier to observe the basic political conflicts in a given country.

These methodological deficits of existing approaches led us to the

conclusion that it is necessary to produce a new data set. In order to

identify the salience of the campaign issues for the various parties and

their issue-specific positions, we therefore conducted an extensive content

10

For each electoral campaign, all articles, except commentaries, related to the electoral contest or to politics in general were selected in both newspapers for the last two months before election day. Because political advertisements are very important in Switzerland, we included them in our analysis of this country. With regard to the quality newspapers, we used a sampling method and only selected the articles on three days (for details see the appendix). Because the tabloids have fewer articles, we selected all issues within the two-month period. In general, the sampling procedure was conducted in a way to get the same amount of informa- tion on the parties’ positions in each country. For the articles selected, the

10 The coding was done by some of the authors as well as by students and student research assistants.

analysis of articles in major daily newspapers based on human coding. For each country, we chose a quality newspaper, which can be inter- preted as the leading medium of political coverage, and a tabloid to get a broader picture of how voters see the parties during the campaigns. We always selected the most widespread paper in each category among the newspapers that were published throughout the whole period covered by our study (Table 3.5).

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Martin Dolezal

Table 3.5 Selected newspapers

Quality paper

Tabloid

Le Parisien

Kronenzeitung

Blick

a

The Sun Bild

  France

Austria Switzerland

The Netherlands

UK Germany

Le Monde

Die Presse

Neue Zürcher Zeitung NRC Handelsblad

Algemeen Dagblad The Times Süddeutsche Zeitung

!

 a In the Netherlands, no widespread tabloid exists.

headlines, the ‘lead’, if available, and the first paragraph11 were coded sentence by sentence using a relational method of content analysis devel- oped by Kleinnijenhuis and his collaborators (see Kleinnijenhuis et al. 1997; Kleinnijenhuis and Pennings 2001). This method is designed to code every relationship between ‘political objects’ (i.e. either between two political actors or between a political actor and a political issue) appearing in the text. For the purposes of this study, we are only interested in relationships between political actors and political issues (‘actor-issue sentences’). According to this coding procedure, each sentence of an article is reduced to its most basic structure, the so- called ‘core sentence’, indicating only its subject (political actor) and its object (issue) as well as the direction of the relationship between the two. The direction is quantified using a scale ranging from !1 to +1 with three intermediary positions indicating a ‘potential’ or a neutral relation. If, for example, a politician says that in the future he might be in favour of or against a certain position we coded 0.5 or !0.5 respectively. Whenever there was a neutral relation – that is no direc- tion at all – we coded 0. The issues were recorded with great detail; later we aggregated them to our system of issue-categories as described above. Political actors were coded according to their party membership. For the analyses in the subsequent chapters, we have regrouped them into a limited number of categories or observed just the most important parties respectively, from three in the UK to eight in France (Table 3.6).

11 For some tabloids we coded the complete articles because they are very short.

    Table 3.6 Parties according to current membership of party families

France

Parti Communiste Français – PCF (French Communist Party) and Trotskyist parties

Les Verts (The Greens)

Parti Socialiste – PSF (Socialist Party) Mouvement des Radicaux de Gauche – MRGa (Movement of Left Radicals) Sozialdemokratische Partei

Union pour la Démocratie Française – UDFb (Union for French Democracy)

Rassemblement pour la République – RPR (Rally for the Republic)

Austria

Die Grünen/Die Grüne

Liberales Forum – LIF (Liberal Forum)

Österreichische Volkspartei – ÖVP (Austrian People’s Party)

Freiheitliche Partei

Switzerland

Grüne Partei der Schweiz – GPS (Green Party of Switzerland)

Sozialdemokratische Partei der

Schweiz – SPS (Social Democratic Party of Switzerland)

Freisinnig- Demokratische Partei – FDP (Radical Democratic Party)

Christlichdemokratische Volkspartei der Schweiz – CVPd (Christian Democratic People’s Party)

Schweizerische Volkspartei – SVPe (Swiss People’s Party)

Communists/ Radical Left

Greens/ New Left

Social Democrats

Liberals

Christian Democrats/ Conservatives

Populist Right Front National

Alternative (The Greens/ The Green Alternative)

Österreichs – SPÖ (Social Democratic Party of Austria)

Österreichs – FPÖc (Freedom Party of Austria)

Liberale Partei der Schweiz – LPS (Swiss Liberal Party)

– FN (National Front)

   Table 3.6 (cont.) Communists/

Greens/ New Left

Social

Democrats Liberals

Christian Democrats/ Conservatives

Netherlands

GroenLinks (Green Left)

PartijvandeArbeid– Democraten’66–

Christen-Democratisch Appel – CDA (Christian Democratic Appeal)

UKf Germany

Labour Party

Liberal Democratic Party

Conservative Party

Radical Left

Populist Right Lijst Pim

Partei des demokratischen Sozialismus – PDS (Party of Democratic Socialism)

Bündnis 90/Die Grünen

Sozialdemokratische Partei

Freie Demokratische Partei – FDP (Free Democratic Party)

Christlich-Demokratische Union/Christlich-Soziale Union – CDU/CSU (Christian Democratic Union/Christian Social Union)

(Alliance 90/ The Greens)

Deutschlands – SPD (Social Democratic Party of Germany)

PvdA (Labour Party)

D’66 (Democrats

Fortuyn – LPF (List Pim Fortuyn)

a It is difficult to classify the MRG into one of the major party families. It is rather left-of-centre and was one of the three ‘pillars’ of the left-wing opposition in the 1970s (with the PCF and the PSF). But it cannot simply be subsumed into the social-democratic party family.

b The UDF has both a liberal and a Christian-democratic component.

c Until the mid-1980s, the FPÖ was a liberal-conservative party.

d Plus other minor centre parties.

e Plus several small parties of the radical right. Until the early 1990s, the SVP was part of the conservative party family. f The Scottish National Party (SNP), which is difficult to classify in this table, is also included in the analyses.

66) Volkspartij voor

Vrijheid en Democratie – VVD (People’s Party for Freedom and Democracy)

The design of the study 71

We cannot, however, consider all parties in all elections. As a matter of fact, some of them did not exist during the whole period. The Lijst Pim Fortuyn, for example, was only present in the Dutch elections of 2002 and 2003; the Liberal Forum, a splinter party of the FPÖ, was visible only in the Austrian elections from 1994 to 1999, then it became irrelevant – for voters as well as for the media. Some smaller parties also had to be excluded, as we do not have enough information on their issue positions. In each election, we mostly consider only those parties for which at least thirty issue positions were coded. Especially in Germany, parties of the radical right are not given coverage in newspapers, at least there is no information about their issue-positions (apart from immigration). Such parties, therefore, could not be included in our supply side analyses, which is one of the disadvantages of our methodological choice. But we are able to explore their voters’ attitudes in the demand analyses.

The data resulting from our content analysis offer valuable informa- tion on two central aspects of the supply side of electoral competition: the positions of political parties regarding the various political issues, and the salience of these issues for a given political party. The position of an actor on a category of issues is computed by averaging over all core sentences that contain a relationship between this actor and any of the issues belonging to this category. The salience of a category of issues is based on the relative frequency with which a given political party takes a position on this category. As argued above, it is important to understand that both aspects are relevant for an adequate description of the political space. Parties differ from one another not only with respect to the posi- tions they advocate, but also with respect to the priorities they set. It is also important to note that the salience of issues and parties can be computed in different ways. In this study, party-issue relationships are weighted by the number of statements of a given party in a given cam- paign and by the relative importance of the corresponding issue category for the party in question. This means that, for a given campaign, large parties and key campaign issues determine the configuration of the political space more heavily than marginal parties or secondary issues.

On the basis of these data, it is finally possible to construct a graphical representation of the positions of parties and issues in a low-dimensional space, using the method of multidimensional scaling (MDS). MDS is a very flexible method that allows for the graphic representation of similarities or dissimilarities between pairs of objects (see, e.g., Borg and Groenen 1997; Cox and Cox 2001; Kruskal and Wish 1978). If a

72 Martin Dolezal

party from the left, for example, strongly supports an expansion of the

welfare state, we would expect the distance between this party and the

category welfare to be small. If we represent the parties and issues in a

common space, this party and the category welfare should be located

close to each other. The unfolding technique, the MDS procedure which

we use here, allows for the joint representation of parties and issues in a

12

common space.

Furthermore, a variant of MDS, called weighted

metric multidimensional scaling (WMMDS), enables us to account

simultaneously for the similarities between pairs of objects (parties

13

and issues, in our case) and for the salience of these relationships. This means that, when representing our data in a low-dimensional space, the distances corresponding to salient relationships between parties and issues will be more accurate than the less salient ones. Distortions of ‘real’ distances are unavoidable, but with WMMDS these distortions will be smaller for more important relationships, resulting in a more accurate representation of the relative positions of parties and issues. Relying on MDS has an additional advantage crucial for our argument. With this method, we do not have to make any a priori assumption about the structure of the political space – contrary to most analyses of parties’ positions that start from theoretically defined dimensions (see, e.g., Gabel and Hix 2002; Hix 1999; Hooghe et al. 2002; Klingemann et al. 1994; Pellikaan et al. 2003; Pennings and Keman 2003; van der Eijk and Franklin 2004). Here, by contrast, and similar to our strategy for the demand side analyses, we want to test our hypotheses regarding both the dimensionality of the political space and the nature of these dimensions. The structure of the political space that we estimate with WMMDS is not influenced by any assumption we could make on how the categories of issues are related to one another.

When interpreting the supply-side configurations and comparing them with the demand-side figures in the following chapters, it is important to take some technical differences into consideration. Just as the demand-side figures, the supply-side figures are rotated so that

12 Van der Brug (1999, 2001) uses another MDS procedure that does not allow for the joint representation of parties and issues in a common space, which makes the interpretation of the results much more difficult.

13 Weighted metric multidimensional scaling can be estimated using the algorithm Proxscal, which is implemented in SPSS.

The design of the study 73

the economic conflict is arranged horizontally and the cultural conflict vertically; again, positions supporting cultural integration are placed on the top, those supporting demarcation at the bottom of the figure. But, in an MDS figure, the crucial aspect refers to the relative distances between points (for example, between a certain party and a certain issue category); their spatial positions are of lesser importance. If, for example, a party is situated on the bottom right side of a configura- tion, it does not necessarily strongly support market liberalism. One has to check its relative distance from economic liberalism and welfare respectively. Only if the party is much closer to economic liberalism can its position be interpreted as support for an economically right policy.

Conclusion

It was the purpose of this chapter to describe the design of our study, the data sources, and the methods applied. Our basic decision was to analyze changing cleavage structures in West European societies based on an observation of issue-positions of parties and voters in the context of electoral campaigns. We explained the comparative approach of this book and argued why we selected the six countries covered by our exploration and why we focus on national elections. Our sample of West European countries – France, Austria, Switzerland, the Netherlands, the UK and Germany – is quite homo- geneous but it provides considerable variation with respect to the national context factors that may explain how the processes asso- ciated with globalization can be mobilized by political entrepreneurs, especially in connection with national elections. Distinguishing between demand and supply as the two sides of party competition, we explained the kind of data we use and how we construct our indicators based on these data. As regards the demand-side analyses, we rely on secondary analyses of available surveys. Concerning the supply side, we have built a new data set based on an extensive relational content analysis of the media coverage of elections. Both parts of the analysis use the same system of issue-categories that provides information on the direction of voters’ political attitudes and the parties’ programmes respectively, as well as on the salience of these issues. Once again, it is important to note that we start our analysis with as few a priori assumptions as possible, because

74 Martin Dolezal

the changing structure of the political space – in both dimensions of competition – is the core question of this book. With the statistical procedures selected – factor analysis for the demand side and weighted multidimensional scaling for the supply side – we use mathematical methods that are perfectly suited for such an explorative research strategy.