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Structural accounts of social control focus on the ways in which meaning is reproduced through signs and structures which stand apart from society and from human imagination, in other words, structures are ‘real’ and lie below the surface of human organization and distinct from the units that make up society. Structure is the patterned relations between social actors which make up the society as a whole, and traditional definitions of structure and structuralism emphasise the constraints it is argued to place on the actions of those who are socialised into any particular structure. Implicit in this definition is continuity rather than social change due to the focus on the reproduction of social organization and the patterned nature of social interaction. The defining quality of structural accounts of informal social control is therefore how social order is driven by macro-level forces, as opposed to how structures and social relationships may be changed by the actors they are said to exert forces on.

The Socio-Economic Context of Crime

One of the earlier figures to examine the socio-economic context of crime was Durkheim, who argued that crime was a normal response to the social and economic pressures of life. Crime’s function was to ensure social stability by provoking a collective reaction to deviancy which acted to reinforce collective sentiments and the shared norms of the group (Durkheim, 1997). Durkheim argued that too much or too little crime was pathological, indicating a lack of informal social control in the first case which points to a lack of social cohesiveness, and in the case of too little crime, that social controls were over-developed and consequently that society was at risk of stagnating. The function of crime, in his view, not only reinforces the collective shared norms, but drives society forwards, encouraging certain reforms and allowing the release of pent-up social tensions. His concept of anomie, discussed briefly in the previous chapter, deals with the breakdown of these

shared norms and values caused by rapid social change, with population growth limiting the interactions between individuals and groups and causing societal disintegration and the decreasing importance of collective sentiment. In these circumstances, there is a shift towards the punitive and public application of legal sanction to wrong-doers, as opposed to the private, moral sanction of the community against one of its members which is reparative in nature.

The links between crime, disorder and economic context are explored across a range of criminological perspectives, and the links between recession and crime are of particular relevance given the current socio-economic context. Box (1987) specifically focuses on recession and its impacts on levels of crime, and argues that there is not necessarily a direct relationship between the two (although crime levels do rise during recession) but that this is also the effect of government policies aimed at restructuring the labour force and the extension of crime control agencies. In particular, Box highlights political considerations and the treatment of ‘problem populations’ as key factors; tellingly for this research, he alights upon the ‘scrounger’ as a key folk devil in times of recession and so a legitimate target for police attention in public opinion (Box, 1987; pp151-153). In circumstances of recession, both hard and soft social controls, or the prison system and those agencies which deal with individuals not deemed fit for imprisonment respectively, are argued to grow in size and reach, partially in response to dubious definitions of public opinion (pp121-126).

This ‘net of social control’ described by Cohen (1985: 42) expands as new forms of control are incorporated, not least community-based controls and new forms of deviance. A generation on from Box and Cohen, we can witness a renewed crackdown on benefit fraud by the Coalition government during the current recession (BBC Democracy Live, 28/11/2011) with stiffer sentences (Department of Work and Pensions, 08/05/2012).

Murray’s thesis of the ‘underclass’ (Murray, 1990) notes economic inactivity and violent crime as two of its defining features, and while it neglects the kinds of structural factors identified by others (Young, 2002) this discourse is still current as it helps inform the net-widening and public responses to inequality. As Hope (1996) observes, it is the most marginalised and excluded communities that suffer the most victimisation and highest rates

of predatory crime, citing a lack of employment as being a reason why young men are less embedded in work-related, legitimate activities.

Hale (1999) and Young (2002) identify inequality and social exclusion as being linked to increased crime rates, although Hale cautions against identifying a straightforward causal relationship. Hale does identify de-industrialisation and the shift to the service economy, with its low-paid, low-quality and precarious work as key drivers of crime amongst young people; further, the increasing numbers of women joining this area of the labour market is said to push young men of peak offending age out of employment. This increased the marginalisation of young men even within an already-marginalised section of society that experiences low wages and social exclusion. Walkerdine and Jimenez (2012) identify the horror expressed by young men in ‘Steeltown’ at the thought of doing ‘girls’ work’ in shops and other service-related jobs who would rather be unemployed (or in other cases, turn to crime).

The social and economic costs of de-industrialisation in North American cities are set out by Russo and Linkon (2009) in a quite comprehensive fashion; not only are the obvious consequences of high unemployment and poverty discussed, but a range of knock-on effects on social capital, crime rates, identity and the ability to attract future inward investment. As incomes drop, people either move away or simply stop spending money;

town centres become boarded up and so incomers are dissuaded from visiting and supporting the remaining shops and businesses. Social capital and collective efficacy are argued to decrease as populations become fragmented and resources drain away. Following the ‘broken windows’ thesis of Wilson and Kelling (1982) the visible signs of urban decay are interpreted as abandonment of public spaces, and so incivilities and crime begin to spill into these areas as a result of the perceived breakdown in social control; this cycle of fear-induced withdrawal and escalating disorder continues there even after the wider economic decline has been arrested.

Taylor (2001) argues against the ‘broken windows’ thesis which posits that crime can be tackled by reducing the superficial signs of incivilities, disorder and decay in the urban environment. Instead, Taylor demonstrates that it is long-term economic decline coupled with the social and political policies of governments that lie behind growing crime rates by

using the city of Baltimore as a case study. De-industrialisation of large American cities in the 1970s and the related population decline and increase in poverty is identified as a key driver of the increased crime rates of the late 1980s. Incivilities and neighbourhood disorder are seen as outcomes of socio-economic disadvantage rather than drivers of it. He argues against an approach which neglects the structural aspects of urban decline and instead links urban incivilities to broader changes in the political economy at the regional or national level.

A key point of interest is the focus of Russo and Linkon (2009) on identity and the fate of de-industrialised communities when the central plank of the local economy and a positive source of identity are removed. They argue that de-industrialised communities suffer a loss of confidence in themselves; the closing-down of local industries is blamed on some personal fault of the town as opposed to economic factors, and the prolonged failure to recover from this decline – entering a ‘permanent recession’ – is also laid at the door of the community. Community members who anticipated that the institutions they invested their lives in, in such as the workplace and the trade unions, would remain forever are shattered by the loss of these key organisations. In this way, the de-industrialised community takes on a particular negative identity stemming from its predicament and its ongoing decline.

Beckett and Herbert (2009) focus on increasing unemployment and the rolling-back of welfare for vulnerable individuals as a key driver of homelessness, which disproportionately affects ethnic minorities in Seattle (Chapter Two). The rise of neo-liberal economic policies which limited government commitment to affordable housing and simultaneously shifted the local economic base towards tourism and business also coincided with an expansion of the prison estate and a harsher sentencing regime. The forces acting upon those labelled as undesirable effectively limit their capacity to enjoy their rights as citizens (p60). They are displaced from key areas of the city, banned from areas where they have some attachments, and subject to frequent and intrusive attention from the police.

Having been thoroughly marginalised, their exclusion from mainstream society is perpetuated through this labelling, the ongoing legal and civil actions and the structural dynamics of the local housing market and economy.

The constraints imposed by elevated levels of deprivation and distress are set out by Hope (1996). Hope notes the concentration of crimes including burglary and signs of disorder in the poorest communities, alongside the highest concentration of repeat victims in these areas also. He also identifies the stigma attached to deprived communities suffering high levels of disorder, and cites factors such as a high prevalence of single-parent households as potentially inhibiting the operation of informal social control mechanisms.

Hope argues that it is the increasing levels of inequality present in society which potentially drive this higher crime rate, noting that spatial and social polarisation concentrates vulnerable victims and potential offenders who are disengaged from the legitimate economy in areas where socio-economic disadvantage is heightened and opportunities may be limited. This dynamic is of clear analytic interest to the study of a community such as the Gurnos which exhibits several of these characteristics.

Several ethnographic accounts focusing on the structural elements of urban distress are of great methodological and conceptual importance to this study and give insight into the post-industrial community as a site of informal social control. They adopt a cross-national comparative research design investigating urban areas in France and the USA and highlight several important differences in the socio-economic contexts of each country. The differing roles of the welfare state and the toxic history of American institutionalised racial segregation are two areas highlighted by Body-Gendrot (2000) and Wacquant (1996) where the dynamics of social control and urban poverty differ significantly and so impact on a community’s informal social control capacities.

The withdrawal of the American state from the ghetto in terms of failing state schools, dilapidated public housing, unresponsive policing and crumbling social institutions has precipitated a shift towards Anderson’s ‘code of the street’ (Anderson, 1999) whereby personal capacity for violence is the only guarantor of safety. The capability for communal solidarity is undermined by extreme predatory violence, often centred on the hard drugs trade. Both Wacquant (1996, 1999) and Anderson detail the internal differentiation practices whereby residents self-divide and label those from other parts of the ghetto as of a lower moral standard on the basis of drug addiction or welfare dependency. Anderson notes the division of ‘street’ and ‘decent’-oriented families and individuals, with the latter

acknowledging the need to adopt the habits of the former to survive, but remaining firmly in opposition to those values. This notion that stigmatised individuals may themselves level further stigma against others in their community as a means of achieving social distance is of interest as a social ordering tool even in these constrained circumstances.

More significantly for the British context, the French banlieues are heavily penetrated by the state through welfare provision and state institutions, despite a similar lack of funding for decent schools, housing, policing and public services (Body-Gendrot, 2000, Wacquant, 1999). It is argued that the ability of these communities to mobilise themselves and enact informal social control mechanisms over their young people is severely undermined by what some term welfare dependency. However the inability of public services to cope with such high demand leads to calls for further investment which then increases the perceived depth of the underlying social problems of poverty and dependency and so perpetuates the problem.

Despite this, the supporting role played by the welfare state contrasted with the retrenchment of welfare in America in the 1990s can be seen in the comparison between France and the USA. Although both experience high levels of violence, the rioting French youths are seen to be engaged in expressive violence as a form of political protest against their marginalisation, whereas the violence described in the American ghettoes is predatory and acquisitive. Despite concerns over welfare dependency, it is arguable that this safety net prevents an escalation of predatory violence and drug use to the extent seen in American ghettoes, and the fact that many residents of the banlieues are immigrants may be another contributing factor in this inadequate reproduction of informal social control.

The impact of de-industrialization in American and French cities has been felt most keenly by immigrants and minority ethnic communities according to these ethnographic studies; however the accounts have important lessons for the British context of informal social control. Bourgois (1995) details how his Puerto Rican participants typically left school early to work in factories or other blue-collar jobs; when these dried up and were replaced with service-sector employment they fell back on drug-dealing and other predatory crime in the absence of an adequate safety net from the welfare state. Body-Gendrot (2000) links the decline of industry and the rise of the service sector to spatial polarisation, social

segmentation and the distinct far-left politics of some Parisian suburbs such as Saint-Denis which concentrated immigrants into certain banlieues and actively compounded welfare dependency and poverty.

In both cases ill-educated and poorly-socialized young men who lacked basic social skills encountered discrimination outside of their community. The requirements of available work often compromised traditional notions of masculinity, for example working in the service sector for very low pay and taking orders from female superiors (Bourgois, 1995:

148-154). Walkerdine and Jimenez (2012) noted that one of their young male participants in South Wales would rather sell his car than work in a shop, such was the stigma attached to

‘girls’ work’, which is similar to the experiences of Bourgois’ protagonists despite the gulf between Spanish Harlem and the South Wales Valleys. The subjects of the American ethnographies had grown up receiving little informal social control from their parents, some of whom were first generation immigrants and whose only recourse was to send their wayward children to strict relatives in the home village (Bourgois, 1995: 178) or outside the ghetto. With their own fathers absent, having children with several women and often a drug habit to fund, the young men were in no position to reproduce informal social control, as their girlfriends and children were supported by welfare payments (Anderson, 1999: 319-320; Bourgois, 1995: 243-247).

However, even in the crushing poverty of the ghetto these mechanisms were still active. Anderson details how ‘old-heads’ – ‘decent’-oriented African-American grandmothers and grandfathers – often took responsibility for their grandchildren and received a degree of respect even from hardened crack dealers, and were in some cases able to steer their addict or dealer children away from the drugs trade (Anderson, 1999).

This links back to the capacity for agency displayed by individuals even in conditions of extreme socio-economic distress, and their adherence to pro-social norms persists despite this and in the face of severe and violent opposition from other people in the neighbourhood. This was achieved in part by the clear delineation of social boundaries by the ‘decent’ ghetto residents within which the activities of younger generations were fiercely policed and controls enacted by heads of household.

The studies of the American ghetto hold relevance for the exploration of informal social control in a South Wales Valleys town because of the theorised similarities of the experiences of the residents of each despite their very different circumstances. Ideas about traditional notions of masculinity are one similarity, to this we might add the issues of single-parent households and drug and alcohol abuse identified above by Anderson and Bourgois: Merthyr Tydfil has the highest percentage of lone-parent households with dependent children in Wales at 9.6% (David et al, p34) and substance abuse is a significant problem in both settings.

To add to this, the physical separation experienced by the residents of the ghetto and the banlieue can be theorised to be present in the Gurnos, as the latter experiences significant transport issues (see Chapter Five). Further, both the American and French ghetto residents and the Gurnos residents can be argued to be ready targets for stigmatisation and easily identifiable: the first two groups due to their ethnicity, and also the residents of the banlieues and the Gurnos are identifiable via their addresses (Body-Gendrot); the flower and plant-based street names of the Gurnos are unique within Merthyr Tydfil. Drawing out the links between the two contexts strengthens the extent to which this research can speak to other places and times and rebuts accusations of parochialism.

Examination of these structural factors invites consideration of the extent to which those who experience such difficult circumstances are capable of exercising agency.

Structuralists would argue not; most social actors have severely limited control over the meanings which are reproduced and the nature of social structures, leading to charges of determinism from more interactionist-inclined accounts. These claim that social order is possible only because humans derive symbolic meaning from social objects, which through repetition are turned into social facts which can exert control over individuals through their symbolic meaning. However Lemert (1967) notes the different extents to which norms are subject to redefinition and can exert social control, and that the social action which accomplishes redefinition is limited by the indications made by actors to themselves that structures do exist and that their meanings are not open to reinterpretation.

That some social actors are not able to challenge the definitions and labels accomplished by other, more powerful social actors is evident in the ethnographies.

Bourgois (1995) details the stigma deriving from his Puerto Rican subjects’ accent, address and style of dress, Anderson’s young black male subjects faced similar stigma (Anderson, 2000) and Body-Gendrot details how the young inhabitants of the cité of La Corneuve concealed their address wherever possible (Body-Gendrot, 2000). On the other hand, some of the subjects of Bourgois and Anderson did have the capacity to exercise a degree of agency and reject the drugs trade in favour of steady employment; arguably in the ghetto this meant assuming instead of rejecting a stigmatising identity (that of being a ‘square’ or

Bourgois (1995) details the stigma deriving from his Puerto Rican subjects’ accent, address and style of dress, Anderson’s young black male subjects faced similar stigma (Anderson, 2000) and Body-Gendrot details how the young inhabitants of the cité of La Corneuve concealed their address wherever possible (Body-Gendrot, 2000). On the other hand, some of the subjects of Bourgois and Anderson did have the capacity to exercise a degree of agency and reject the drugs trade in favour of steady employment; arguably in the ghetto this meant assuming instead of rejecting a stigmatising identity (that of being a ‘square’ or