Abstract
John Braithwaite's magnum opus, Macrocriminology and Freedom should be studied by all criminologists who care about the fate and relevance of our field. Braithwaite says he is no longer “cynical” about criminology. He is hopeful that criminology can be reinvented.
But criminology “has never really had a Keynesian moment” (p. 43). Most macrocriminology is devoted to the study of punishment, not crime. With this book, Braithwaite would fundamentally reorient and greatly enrich criminology. Macrocriminology and Freedom is criminology's Keynesian moment.
The book has two overarching integrative themes: the metatheoretical integration of explanatory and normative theories and the analytical integration of micro, meso, and macro perspectives into a coherent whole that overcomes the methodological individualism so rampant in criminology. As a “card-carrying social democrat,” Braithwaite argues that explanatory theory devoid of normative theory is “dangerously blind” and that macrocriminology must be “politicized” if it is to “contribute to the survival of humankind” (p. 33). The stakes are that high.
The encyclopedic topical coverage of Macrocriminology and Freedom is far too broad and detailed to discuss in a short review. I direct my brief comments to three major substantive themes of the book: domination and freedom, anomie and social institutions, and crime and crime prevention cascades.
Domination and freedom
Braithwaite views crime as a form of domination. Crime control can also be a form of domination. Domination is power over others that is arbitrary and unjust. Freedom is defined as nondomination. The motivation for crime in the suites is domination and for crime in the streets it is being dominated. Crime and war are both manifestations of domination, they reinforce one another, and should be studied together, not separately.
Freedom is essential for building low-crime societies, and crime prevention is essential for freedom. Not “thin” neoliberal freedom but “thick” republican freedom. Braithwaite rejects the common contention that high crime rates are a cost we pay for freedom. Rather, high crime results from the absence of freedom.
I admit to buying into the argument that crime is a cost of freedom. Where we might join issues is to think of the relationship between crime and freedom as curvilinear. High crime is a consequence of too little freedom—domination—and too much freedom—anomie. Strong individuals, along with strong institutions, Braithwaite argues, are an essential component of low-crime societies. But are not strong individuals those who are able to resist normative constraints? Are strong individuals necessarily virtuous individuals? If not, why would they necessarily obey the law?
Anomie and social institutions
Braithwaite applauds institutional-anomie theory (IAT) for its focus on the interplay of the market economy with other social institutions. He diverges from IAT, however, by arguing that strengthening markets is fundamental to a “freer, low-crime society.” Similarly, all forms of capital, including financial capital, must be strengthened. IAT proposes that the institutional dominance of the market economy must be tamed and balanced with other institutions to reduce crime. However, the point is not to achieve institutional “balance,” Braithwaite argues, but to strengthen weak institutions so that they are not dominated by others but not so strong that they dominate others. This seems to me to be a distinction without a real difference.
Braithwaite maintains that markets are not the problem, bad markets are the problem. IAT is “misguided” if it ignores processes by which “markets in vice” can be replaced by stronger “markets in virtue,” especially those that control crimes of domination. Examples of markets in virtue are safer road construction, alarm systems for homes and cars, and electronic funds transfers that replace cash. This is a fair point. In its criticisms of market economies, IAT does not distinguish between markets in virtue and vice. But how do we get from vice-ridden to virtuous markets?
A principal pathway is through a “richly plural” separation of public and private powers. IAT's emphasis on strengthening noneconomic institutions is not sufficient for tempering corporate power. Power must be finely separated to reduce crimes of the powerful. Braithwaite writes: “We do not seek to limit or curb power, but to enable good power by tempering it” (p. 385). But doesn’t “tempering” power limit or curb it? At another point, Braithwaite acknowledges that power must be “decisive” to overcome domination. But doesn’t tempering mean that any single power will be less decisive?
Braithwaite also acknowledges that “excess” in the separation of powers reduces efficiency and can “induce gridlock.” How do we know when the point of excess is just about to be reached, and how do we head it off? Consider Los Angeles's response to housing the homeless, a good example of the “multiplicities of accountabilities” that, according to Braithwaite, should flourish to control domination. All the stakeholders were at the table—advocates for the homeless, developers, builders, financers, homeowners, public officials—and very little has been accomplished at an astounding cost (Klein, 2022). Braithwaite argues that the most important role of government leaders is to break this kind of gridlock. But government is one of the separated powers. I see how a deeply rich separation of powers can reduce domination, but how do the resulting markets in virtue, like building housing for the homeless, overcome inefficiency and stasis? Is inertia the price we pay for less domination and more virtue?
Cascades
For me, the discussion of “cascades” is a highlight of the book. Cascades are phenomena that “multiply instances of themselves” or spread to related phenomena (p. 574). Crime begets more crime through modeling, differential association, and retribution. War, anomie, domination, and concentrated disadvantage are cascade phenomena. Crime prevention also cascades as “ink spots” of collective efficacy and civility spread.
Cascades should prompt criminologists to think of the causes of crime as endogenous and not just exogenous. We should get over what Braithwaite calls our “exogeneity obsession.” Cascades are an important reason why the variability of crime over time and from place to place is typically much greater than the variation in its putative exogenous causes, as the economist Edward Glaeser et al. (1996) and colleagues pointed out nearly 30 years ago. The idea of cascades has been around for a long while in our field but has been underappreciated and understudied.
I spend a lot of my time studying crime trends. It is possible to build regression models that explain 80% or more of the annual variation in crime rates—as long as you put last year's crime rate in the model. The lagged crime rate generally sops up half or more of the variance in the current year's crime rate, even with lots of significant exogenous variables in the equation. Do such results mean that crime is a self-replicating cascade? I don’t know, and I’m not sure how to properly measure the cascade properties of crime trends. Clearly, though, Braithwaite is right that criminologists have to devote more attention to crime cascades and less to the endless search for exogenous causes.
Conclusion: Where to from here?
Macrocriminology and Freedom is framed by six normative “rivers” encompassing 150 explanatory propositions. The rivers:
reduce domination; strengthen all institutions, including markets; strengthen all forms of capital, including financial; maintain a normative order that nurtures collective efficacy; prevent wars before they cascade to violence, anomie, and domination.
The propositions constitute a blueprint for nothing less than the rebirth of macrocriminology; indeed, all of criminology. We should waste no time in testing them. A lot of important work lies ahead, both for those of us who have studied the macro sources of crime and its control for a long while, and for those who will join us after reading this inspirational book. If Braithwaite is right, the stakes are high and the future relevance of criminology hangs in the balance. There's no time to waste.