The Myth of Mob Rule: Violent Crime and Democratic Politics. Lisa L. Miller. New York: Oxford University Press (2016). 272pp. £26.49hb ISBN 9780190228705
Bibliographic record
Abstract
In her exciting new book The Myth of Mob Rule, Lisa L. Miller argues for a radical reconceptualisation of violent crime and democratic politics. She brings crime rates to the centre of her analysis and by doing so she shows how the prevalence and prevention of crime are central to the democratic project. How well do democratic states protect their citizens? How well do democratic states provide for safety and security? By shifting the analytical frame, Miller makes criminal victimisation palpable as a social risk and political priority rather than an individual problem. This is a critical move as it allows her to directly connect crime rates to collective goods and State responsibility. How and why can democratic societies allow for such high risks? What is the State's responsibility to provide and protect against social risks? By way of comparative case studies, an impressive array of descriptive statistics on violent crime, and an analysis of crime politics in the US, UK, and the Netherlands, Miller develops her persuasive account, with emphasis on the American case. She shows how the US maintains exceptionally high rates of violence as compared with its European counterparts, with US homicide rates peaking at five to ten times the rates of Spain, Italy, the Netherlands, Canada, and Scotland (Table 4.1, p.102). She goes on to show how high rates of violence are unevenly distributed across the US population. High rates of victimisation, specifically homicide rates, disparately impact African American men and women at six to eight times the rates of whites (Table 4.3, p.107; see also Threadcraft and Miller 2017). Black men and women have substantially higher rates of exposure to violence than all other Americans across their lifetimes. Why is that, Miller asks? By carefully analysing democratic state responses to high rates of violence, Miller weaves together an account of crime politics and social provision, particularly their racial dynamics and political salience. Miller finds that when an engaged public demands crime control as a collective good, less punitive policies follow, contrary to more conventional populist accounts. Additionally, in the US case, Miller highlights how crime and victimisation are decoupled from broader social conditions, leading to more narrow punishing/punishment policies rather than to social provision (p.9). She argues that the particular set of American political institutions and its history of racialised inequalities (p.100) tend to drive down social provision and increase insecurity, particularly for the most vulnerable racial minorities. What fills its place is an excess of criminal justice measures aimed at punishing, rather than preventing, crime. Miller then draws the conclusion that it is state failure, racialised state failure in particular, that explains US exceptionalism in this domain. Miller explains, it is the ‘broader political economy and institutional dynamics of American politics that perpetuate high and racially disproportionate rates of violence and punishment, as well as social inequality between blacks and whites more broadly’ (p.100). The state has failed to provide safety and security for its citizens, its central obligation in a democratic polity. As an appreciative reader, particularly of how Miller brings together the empirical reality of crime and violence with a nuanced understanding of democratic politics, I nevertheless raise one critical point, with implications for the analysis and future research. How can Miller's analysis integrate the historic crime decline in the US since the 1990s? Does it matter? On this point, the US has experienced a massive crime decline since the 1990s, across all crime categories, including violent crime, and across all space, including big cities and rural areas, and it has been long-lasting (see review in Barker 2010). By 2000, the homicide rate had reached 1960s levels. Homicide rates declined from 9.3 homicides per 100,000 in 1992 to 4.8 homicides per 100,000 by 2010 (Bureau of Justice Statistics 2011). This trend is evident in Figure 4.1 (p.103). What is striking about the crime decline in the US, particularly violent crime, is the significant drop in offending and victimisation of young African American men. This fact is of major social import. Yet, it is not discussed on empirical or conceptual grounds in the text. Miller might say that the absolute and relative figures are high in comparative context and that state failure is still at work. Even so, I think the crime decline raises questions for further reflection. While the experience of crime and violence are taken seriously in the text as well as the state's role in perpetuating insecurity, the analysis provides fewer answers about why Americans have such high crime rates in the first place – is this because of inequality, racism, distrust, or political fragmentation? Or why crime rates fell dramatically without changes or increases in welfare state provision, which are factors, Miller argues, that buffer against crime in stronger European welfare states. Can state failure explain both the prevalence of high crime and its demise? How can we incorporate or account for change in an analytical framework that privileges stable and enduring political institutions? In the US context, there were significant changes in the social fabric, including improvements in the urban ecology, collective efficacy and shifts in youth culture that may have changed the dynamics of crime and violence on a local level (Barker 2010). These are bottom-up factors that fit with Miller's broad concerns about democratic politics but would bring them into another level of analysis. I think a theory of crime would make Miller's strong claims even more robust. That said, Lisa L. Miller has produced a compelling book with widespread appeal as evidenced by the range of events and commentary by political scientists, criminologists, sociologists, critical race scholars, historians, and anthropologists, among others. It stands as a major turning point in the field.
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How this classification was reachedexpand
Full frame distilled prediction
Teacher imitationNot calibrated prevalence, not ground truth. Human validation pending. Learned from the 10,348 direct Codex labels and 10,348 direct Gemma labels. Candidate is the union of thresholded teacher heads; consensus is their intersection. These outputs are machine_predicted_unvalidated and are not human labels or direct frontier model labels.
Codex and Gemma teacher scores by category
| Category | Codex | Gemma |
|---|---|---|
| Metaresearch | 0.001 | 0.000 |
| Meta-epidemiology (narrow) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Meta-epidemiology (broad) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Bibliometrics | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Science and technology studies | 0.001 | 0.001 |
| Scholarly communication | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Open science | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Research integrity | 0.000 | 0.000 |
| Insufficient payload (model declined to judge) | 0.000 | 0.000 |
Machine scores (provisional)
The two teacher heads of the student model, read on this work. A score orders the frame for review; it never asserts a category, and the validation status ships verbatim with every row.
Baseline scores from an immature model (maturity gate not passed, 7 training rounds). Scores rank; they never assert a category.
score_only:v0-immature-baseline · verbatim from the scoring run: score_only means the number may rank works, and no category label ships from itClassification
machine, unvalidatedMachine predicted; a candidate call from one teacher head, not a consensus.
How this classification was reached, model by model and score by score, is at the end of the page under "How this classification was reached".