One important effect of inducing individuals to perform behavioural committing acts that are contrary to their pre-existing attitude is that this results in attitude change consonant with the committing behaviour (Tiller and Fazio, 1982; Kanter, 1968). Researchers therefore propose behavioural commitment as an
antecedent condition of attitudinal commitment (Meyer and Allen, 1991). This linkage is useful for conceptually progressing from Part II, which employed the behavioural commitment model to explore how confrontational leaders may become committed to dialogue, and this, Part III of the thesis, which will examine the development o f attitudinal axes underlying the commitment to dialogue. The formation of deeper attitudinal dimensions of the commitment to dialogue is important for the longer-term persistence of the leader within an inclusive peace process.
Behavioural commitment has been found to influence the development o f the affective axis o f the individual’s personality system. In earlier discussion (chapter 2), I identified two other axes of commitment -the instrumental and the normative. When academics discuss attitudinal commitment, they use the terms ‘instrumental
commitment’, ‘affective commitment’ and ‘normative commitment’ for convenience, although instrumental, affective and normative are in fact axes of the personality system underlying a particular attitude towards an object of commitment.
manipulation of certain conditions results in distinct and corresponding attitudinal orientations. Commitment theorists have used this knowledge to identify the antecedent conditions which determine the presence of the three distinct types of attitudinal commitment. Some of these antecedent conditions are considered below.
In empirical research, by far the most favoured method for determining the attitudinal axes of commitment has been the ‘paper-and-pencil’ test, where subjects are ‘asked to make an active effort to be honest in completing the questionnaire items’ (Rusbult, 1980, 181; Allen and Meyer, 1991; Buchanan, 1974). This method has been criticised by Sherif and Nebergall, who argue that the subjects’ self-analysis is often more favourable then their later words and deeds. These academics suggest that a more accurate method to infer attitude is from actions and verbal utterances o f a subject not ‘aware that his attitude is being studied’ (1965, 6). This method was employed by Surra et al. (1999), who use the language employed by the subjects in the study to decode the underlying attitude of the subjects towards their commitment.
I will use a similar approach in the next chapter to analyse the language and deeds o f leaders from the Northern Ireland and South African peace processes at critical junctures of re-commitment in order to discern the underlying axes of their attitudinal commitment. I shall also attempt to elucidate the antecedent conditions that appear present in the case-studies. This exercise will provide additional evidence for inferring the underlying axes of commitment. The final section brings together the main arguments and propositions from the discussion in this part of the study, to help in the understanding of leaders and their attitudinal commitment to dialogue.
The Three Attitudinal Axes o f Commitment
Although inconsistent terminology is evident in the literature on attitudinal commitment, I use the terms (I) instrumental commitment, (II) affective commitment, and (III) normative commitment to discuss the nature o f each o f these dimensions o f commitment (Kelman, 1958; Kanter, 1968; Buchanan, 1974; Rusbult 1980; Meyer and Allen, 1990, 1991; Johnson 1999).
Instrumental commitment induces one to maintain a consistent line of action ‘not because [the individual] believes in its content but because he expects to gain specific rewards or approval and avoid specific punishment or disapproval’ (Kelman, 1958, 53). Based on this original formulation by Kelman, two issues need to be addressed to clarify the nature of instrumental commitment. First, is instrumental commitment based on a ‘positive’ cognition? That is the continuation of a course o f action due to the benefits of continuing outweighing the costs of reneging. Some theorists conceptualise commitment more narrowly, as ‘the continuation of an
action.. .resulting from a recognition of the costs associated with its termination’ (my emphasis. Meyer and Allen, 1991, 64; Stebbins, 1971). The seminal work of Howard Becker (1964) is often invoked in support of this restraining view o f instrumental commitment. The second issue relates to locating the locus o f control for instrumental commitment. According to some, it is always externally sourced (Johnson, 1999; Meyer and Allen, 1984). Can it equally originate as an internal personal state? Both issues have important implications for the sense of choice experienced by the individual for the decision to maintain a particular course of action.
Let us consider the first issue. Kanter conceptualises instrumental commitment as arising from positive cognition: ‘when profits and costs are considered...profits compel continued participation’ (1968, 500). On the other hand, Stebbins (1971), and Meyer and Allen (1984) posit instrumental commitment as a negative cognition. In the context o f organisational commitment, Meyer and Allen claim that ‘it is the threat of loss that commits the person to the organisation’ (1984, 373). Stebbins as well as Meyer and Allen found weight to their argument in Becker’s conceptualisation of commitment (Stebbins, 1971, 36; Meyer and Allen, 1984, 372-373). Becker employed the notion o f ‘side-bet’ to distinguish commitment from the observable tendency for behavioural consistency arising from commitment. ‘Side-bet’ has been described as ‘anything of value the individual has invested (e.g. time, effort, money) that would be lost or deemed worthless at some perceived costs to the individual if he or she were to leave the organization’ (Meyer and Allen, 1984, 373; 1991). Meyer and Allen refer to Becker’s example of the individual who wishes to leave his employment, but finds that if he does he is liable to lose his substantial pension fund (1984, 373). Meyer and Allen were right in interpreting the connotations of Becker’s example. Becker does give the impression of the individual experiencing a negative sense of being unable to leave the particular line of activity (1964). Becker, however, does not explain the reason for the individual to perceive his situation solely in negative terms of the costs restraining him from leaving the organisation.
Could not the same example be turned on its head, to argue that the individual at the point o f deciding whether to leave or not, positively cognises the profit of remaining in terms of the accrued pension funds? In my opinion, the individual s
perception of his investment. For instance, a positive perception would be promoted by the experience of receiving information from the employer which suggests the fund is a benefit accrued in the course of employment. Conversely, an experience that involved the employer holding out the pension fund as ransom for continuing loyalty to the employer would produce a negative perception of the option to leave the employment.
Becker gives another example which similarly fails to clearly negate the possibility o f the individual’s decision being influenced by the profit associated with remaining in a course of action. This example, first referred to in chapter 2, involves schoolteachers assigned to a ‘lower-class’ school choosing to remain at the school instead o f opting for a quicker move to another ‘lower-class’ school that is better than their present situation. The reason Becker gives for the decision of the teachers to remain in their current position is that it betters their chance for future transfer to a ‘middle-class’ school. But when the opportunity arises for the teachers to move to a ‘middle-class’ school, according to Becker, change is no longer desirable because the teachers have adjusted their teaching style to suit the environment (1964, 282). This example seems to indicate a positive cognition— that there is a profit associated with staying, which will obviously be lost if the teacher decides to leave.
It is important to distinguish between the cases when the individual is feeling that he has to remain because there is a loss associated with leaving, and when he
wants to remain due to the profits of staying on. The two contrasting perceptions will have divergent implications for the actor’s future behaviour. If the individual
would result in an unwillingness to increase the effort, development o f hostility to others (re-directing of frustration) and a lack of motivation to engage in creative problem-solving. This is equally likely to be true for the teachers in Becker’s example and for leaders engaged in a peace process.
I am not suggesting that all costs associated with discontinuing an action can be turned around and perceived as profits for maintaining the action. However, what I would like to emphasise is that in reality some aspects of the cost-benefit calculation can be influenced by how they are presented to the decision-maker. The cliche of ‘perceiving the glass as half-full or half-empty’ comes to mind. In the context o f a peace process, this suggests room for persuasion in terms of how leaders perceive the value associated with remaining with the peace process. For the longer-term
sustainability o f instrumental commitment, outsiders with capabilities to provide rewards or punishment should attempt to create a positive cognition as the basis for primary leaders’ decision to remain within the peace process.
The presence of alternatives is another important consideration in the instrumental model of commitment, according to Rusbult (1980), based on Thibaut and Kelley (1959). Rationally, the individual is predicted to change his course of action if there is a ‘better alternative’ to the present course of action and the costs of withdrawal are outweighed by the ‘profits’ of the alternative. Conversely, when the individual perceives a lack of a better alternative, the individual will maintain his current course of action but feel dissatisfied (Kelly and Thibaut, 1959, 23). Thus, perceiving a lack of better alternative may produce superficial consistency, without any deeper qualities.
On a micro-level, in situations involving marital problems, Stanley et al. (1999) describe a successful application of the cognitive therapeutic strategy to help couples overcome their dissatisfaction associated with maintaining a relationship because of a perceived lack of alternative. This strategy helps people reframe their constraints into the “best choice in a given the situation. The strategy has been noted to produce constructive or improved behaviour in relationships, which previously were ‘empty shells’ (Stanley et. al., 1999, 383). Similarly, if the peace process is to develop into a genuine process of conflict resolution, it is not sufficient for leaders merely to maintain their involvement in the process. As leaders attempt to address the thornier issues in the conflict, they are more likely to face opposition from those who prefer the status quo to a compromise. Under these circumstances, leaders need to be willing to re-double their effort and to respond creatively in resolving the issues in the conflict. This suggests that even if commitment to the peace process is instrumental, it needs to be based primarily on a positive cognition.
The sense of choice over one’s course of action affects the cognitive state of the individual. Choice invokes a positive cognition, partly because of a sense of control over situations and one’s own fate. With this in mind, I address the second issue as raised above. Johnson says that commitment could arise from: (I) a ‘sense of wanting to ’ remain with a course of action or association, also described as ‘personal commitment’; (II) ‘feeling morally obligated,’ or known as ‘moral commitment’; and (III) ‘feeling constrained,’ otherwise described as ‘structural commitment’ (1999, 74- 75). Johnson’s notion of personal commitment is what other academics refer to as ‘affective commitment’ (Buchanan, 1974; Meyer and Allen, 1991). Here the focus is
commitment. Johnson takes a constraining approach to this type of commitment. Structural commitment, he submits, arises as a result of the ‘prohibitive costs if one decided to withdraw’ (Johnson, 1999, 75). For Johnson, structural commitment ‘is experienced as external to the individual’ (1999, 74). He distinguishes this type of commitment from commitment as an internalised condition, represented by the affective and moral types of commitment. Johnson argues that structural commitment induces consistency due to the actor recognising structurally imposed costs. The locus o f control is external to the actor.
Among the four components of structural commitment identified by Johnson, o f immediate relevance is Johnson’s inclusion of investments made into the current association. Another equally well-known authority on commitment and relationship, Mary Lund (1991), also distinguishes between internal locus of control and externally based forces when comparing the axes of attitudinal commitment in romantic
relationships. But unlike Johnson, Lund proposes that the concept of investments takes the theory of commitment ‘from a quasi-economic evaluation of relation to a new level’ (1991, 218). Both Johnson and Lund agree that outsider pressure is an external locus of control on the individual, like ‘old commitment ’ in marital relationship, which relies on friends, relatives and others, for its stability (Lund,
1991). Whereas, the ‘new commitment ’ in relationships is identified by Lund as being based on personal investment that ‘puts pressure on the individual to choose
voluntarily to maintain a relationship. To be committed to stay in a relationship from the perspective of one’s own decision and not from a position of dependence or obligation’ (my emphasis. 1991, 222). The locus of control is internal, with the actor; hence, the commitment to the relationship is stronger (Lund, 1991). Investments could
range from tangibles such as financial funds or concessions provided to the other, to non-tangibles such as effort, time and talent.
My position is that instrumental commitment could have dimensions o f both externalised and internalised pressures. I also envisage a continuum, from a surface level to deeper internalised states of commitment — from instrumental commitment to deeper value-based commitment. Furthermore, I propose that within each dimension o f commitment, the experience could vary, as exemplified by the above discussion of instrumental commitment and the external versus internal locus of control. Positive cognition may lead to the development of positive ‘affect’ towards one’s commitment. Thoits suggests that the growing research interest in the affective dimension reflects ‘the recognition that humans are not motivated solely by rational-economic concerns’ (1989, 317). More specifically, Leik et al., argue that ‘it is difficult indeed to imagine the existence o f a commitment that has no strong emotional basis’ (1999, 240).
Affective commitment is generally viewed as a ‘favourable attitude,’ an internalised state in the form of ‘attachment’ and ‘involvement’ with the object of commitment (and one’s action in relation to that object), ‘apart from its purely instrumental worth’ (Adams and Jones, 1999, 12; Buchanan, 1974, 533). The notion o f psychological reinforcement (Gove, 1994) and the concept of identity in symbolic interaction (Leik, et al. 1999), suggest possible manners individuals may develop an affective commitment to a particular project, role or relationship. Gove (1994) proposes that certain activities activate a ubiquitous, reinforcement process by producing internal reward or a sense of gratification. The more difficult, arduous or
(Gove, 1994, 373). Gove offers this intrinsic motivation as explanation for the willingness of mountaineers like himself to risk their lives and endure stressful circumstances during climbs. Identities and commitment, according to Leik et al., are ‘intrinsically connected concepts’ (1999, 245), since the affective attachment to certain roles means that one is more likely to favour behavioural enactment consistent with the role. Leik et al. claim that ‘the more salient an identity, the more committed one is to those roles...that evoke that identity’ (1999, 245-246).
The affective attachment to a course of action or goal, according to Sherif and Nebergall, leads to consistency in behaviour (1965, 6). Others have noted that
affective commitment is characterised by improvements in the quality o f one’s involvement, such as increased efforts to ensure the success of the project, to act beyond narrow self-interest, ‘absorption in the activities of one’s...role’ and
willingness to engage in constructive problem-solving; the last characteristic has been noted to be prominent in stable marital relationships (Buchanan, 1974; Leik et al.,
1999; Andrews, 1991; Meyer and Allen, 1991). Affective commitment may cause the individual to exhibit stronger emotional reactions, such as dismay, annoyance and disappointment when events are out of line with the success of the object of commitment. At the same time, events in line may produce a sense of satisfaction, pleasure or pride (Sherif and Nebergall, 1965, 6).
Normative commitment is characterised by behaviour that reflects personal
sacrifices, and pre-occupation or devotion of Self to a course of action or a goal (Weiner, 1982, 421). Normative commitment is defined by Amartya Sen as ‘when one acts on the basis of a concern for duty which, if violated, could cause remorse, but the
action is really chosen out of a sense of duty rather than just to avoid the illfare resulting from the remorse that would occur if one were to act otherwise’ (1977, 327). This conceptualisation of commitment can be traced back to the ancient proposition in the Bhagavad Gita. In this text, Sri Krishna beseeches Arjuna: ‘The world is bound by Actions other than those performed for the sake of Yajna. Do therefore, O son of Kunti, earnestly perform action for Yajna alone, free from attachment.’ Yajna is to offer ‘the best and the most useful in one for the welfare of the others’ without attachment to rewards of the action (Chidbhavananda, 1997, 222-223). This type of commitment, according to Sen, ‘drives a wedge between personal choice and personal welfare, and much o f traditional economic theory relies on the identity of the two’ (1977, 329). Under an instrumental view of commitment, the continuation of a chosen line o f action is premised upon the action enhancing personal benefit. However, normative commitment may lead one to choose to maintain a course of action, even though it does not maximize personal benefit, but because it is the ‘right thing to do’ (Weiner, 1982, 421). This is not to say that normative commitment always leads to choice that reduces personal benefit. It is equally possible for one to choose an action which maximises personal gain, but where the dominant reason for the choice is a sense o f duty. Kelman submits that normatively influenced action is performed, because it is considered ‘intrinsically rewarding’ (1958, 53).
Though normative commitment may differ from instrumental commitment in the manner described above, the issue of ‘choice’, as raised earlier in the consideration o f instrumental commitment, is also important here. Some authors create the
relationship, Johnson submits that normative commitment ‘is the feeling that one is morally obligated to continue a relationship whether one really wants to or not’ (my emphasis. 1999, 74). Meyer and Allen propose that because of this sense of constraint or lack o f choice, ‘obligation may carry with it an underlying resentment’ with adverse behavioural implications, such as a ‘cut back on the level of effort’ (1991,