1. I have sketched my mother's outlook in some detail for a conference sponsored by Daedalus on woman in America. See "Two Generations," Daedalus 93 (1964):72-97; reprinted in The Woman in America, ed. Robert J. Lifton (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1955). [BACK]

2. Daniel Aaron, reviewing a biography of Babbitt, wrote, "Out of unchecked impulse came nationalism, imperialism, and tyranny. Babbitt thought that American democracy, given its dubious ideological antecedents and evangelical politics, was all too susceptible to cant." "The Hero of Humanism," review of Irving Babbitt: An Intellectual Study, by Thomas E. Nevin, New Republic 192, no. 24 (June 17, 1985): 36, 38. Harvard's aesthetes largely continue

ignored, or were repelled by, Babbit, and he himself was half proud to be an anachronism. [BACK]

3. I have described the mise-en-scène in an essay, "Educational Reform at Harvard College: Meritocracy and Its Adversaries," in Education and Politics at Harvard, ed. Seymour Martin Lipset and David Riesman, prepared for the Carnegie Commission (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1975), pp. 281-392. [BACK]

4. See Richard C. S. Trahair, The Humanist Temper: The Life and Work of Elton Mayo (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Books, 1984). [BACK]

5. The chain of mission stations established by Sir Wilfred Grenfell on the Labrador coast was designed to provide primarily medical services to the descendants of early British settlers who scraped meager livings from fishing. At inland Northwest River, where I was stationed, the "natives" booed and hissed Sir Wilfred when he came and lectured them on their failure to plant gardens to vary their diet, too much of which, in his view and in mine, was alcohol. I was not disillusioned by the indigenous population of Labrador (I saw hardly anything of the Indians, but I knew that they treated their dogs miserably and seemed immune to missionizing) because I had no expectations concerning them. But I was somewhat disillusioned by the medical missionaries. Our little group of "wops" lived all summer long on a diet of salmon fourteen times a week because the other stations, which had got provisions intended for us, refused to share, and it seemed to me that the generally Anglican station heads who were married sacrificed themselves and their families more than they could emotionally manage without engendering rancor. From these leaders I had expected too much. [BACK]

7. Unlike a number of my fellow sociologists who have written essays for this volume, I was not an early critic of the American social order. I did not know any Democrats, let alone Socialists or Communists, until I got to college. When in college, I worked briefly with boys' groups in several settlement houses. I did not identify with the youngsters I found very difficult to control.

When I met fellow travelers on my visit in the summer of 1931 to the Soviet Union, I regarded them as even more ignorant than I concerning the United States and gullible in the extreme concerning the Soviet Union. However, I was a pacifist. For fuller discussion, see "A Personal Memoir: My Political Journey," in Conflict and Consensus: A Festschrift in Honor of Lewis A. Coser, ed. Walter W. Powell and Richard Robbins (New York: Free Press, 1984) pp. continue

329-35. For a bibliography of my publications through 1978, see On the Making of Americans: Essays in Honor of David Riesman, ed. Herbert J. Gans, Nathan Glazer, Joseph R. Gusfield, and Christopher Jencks (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1979), pp. 319-46. [BACK]

8. Harvard Law Review 52 (1939): 1105-34. [BACK]

9. For additional reflections on dilemmas of teaching and research, see David Riesman, "On Discovering and Teaching Sociology: A Memoir," prefatory chapter to Annual Review of Sociology 14 (1988): 1-24; and "Balancing Teaching and Writing," Journal of the Harvard-Danforth Center on Teaching and Learning 2 (January 1987): 10-16. [BACK]

10. I had not harbored illusions about the Soviet Union before going there, but my experiences in the course of the summer (briefly described in the political memoir referred to above) led me to see that in a large, incipiently industrial society no amount of terror could create complete internalized belief and that at the margin there could even be disobedience. In the same year in which I sympathetically reviewed Hannah Arendt's Origins of Totalitarianism in Commentary (11 [1951]: 392-98), I also delivered a speech to the American Committee for Cultural Freedom, "Some Observations on the Limits of Totalitarian Power," in which I contended that totalitarian control was an unreachable ideal--a judgment that exposed me to attacks then and thereafter from often newly zealous anticommunists. The latter did not see the differences I saw between inefficient Stalinism and less efficient Nazism: both were evil; but it did not follow, as my adversaries contended, that both would forever remain unchangeable from inside. My address, first printed in Antioch Review 12 (1952): 155-68, also appears in my collections Individualism Reconsidered and Other Essays (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1954) and Abundance for What? and Other Essays (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1964). [BACK]

11. In David Riesman, "A Personal Memoir: My Political Journey," in Conflict and Consensus: A Festschrift in Honor of Lewis A. Coser, ed. Walter W. Powell and Richard Robbins (Glencoe, Ill.: Free Press, 1984), pp. 327-64, I indicate ways in which I worked earlier with Friedrich in helping German refugees from Hitler's Germany and in opposing fascist sympathizers in the United States, and later with Fromm and others in what seem now like quixotic efforts to establish a binational Palestinian-Jewish entity in Palestine, as well as my own civic concern about the dangers of a nuclear arms race and on behalf of a test ban. [BACK]

12. I have described in an essay some considerable differences in culture between a law school and a school of arts and sciences. "Law and Sociology: Recruitment, Training, and Colleagueship," Stanford Law Review 9 (1957): 643-73. See also "Toward an Anthropological Science of Law and the Legal Profession," University of Chicago Law Review 19 (1951): 30-44; reprinted in American Journal of Sociology 57, no. 2 (1957): 121-35. [BACK]

13. University of Chicago Law Review 7 (1940): 655-75. [BACK]

14. "Legislative Restrictions on Foreign Enlistment and Travel," Columbia Law Review (1940) 40: 793-835. [BACK]

15. "Democracy and Defamation: Control of Group Libel," Columbia Law continue

Review 42 (1942): 727-80; "Democracy and Defamation: Fair Game and Fair Comment I," ibid., pp. 1085-112; "Democracy and Defamation: Fair Game and Fair Comment II," ibid., pp. 1282-318. [BACK]

16. I have returned to somewhat related problems recently in studying the impact of open-meeting or sunshine laws on searches for college and university presidents. Here it is the press that intimidates judges and institutions by forcing, as public-interest advocates also do, the opening of such searches to contemporaneous observation. For a case illustrating the way such insistence destroys academic autonomy while leading to subterfuge or what appears as subterfuge, see Judith Block McLaughlin and David Riesman, "The Shady Side of Sunshine," Teachers College Record 87, no. 4 (Summer 1986): 471-94. [BACK]

17. A splendid sense of the capacity of Margaret Mead for mentorship and for connecting people with one another is presented in her daughter's biography of her parents: Mary Catherine Bateson, With a Daughter's Eye (New York: William Morrow, 1985). Years later Everett Hughes and I were to try to bring Margaret Mead, who never held a secure academic position, to the University of Chicago but could not overcome the professional disesteem in which she was held. [BACK]

18. My pacifism had never been a matter of absolute principle but rather of skepticism concerning the justification for most wars in history, including all prior American ones. But the rise to power of Hitler changed my outlook as it did that of many others. I became a reluctant interventionist. See Riesman, "What's Wrong with the Interventionists?" Common Sense 10 (1941): 327-30. I regarded Hitler and his not insignificant ally Mussolini as an even greater threat to civilization, including the United States, than a war to defeat them. In recent years I have been an admirer of the work of Gene Sharp on the history and strategic uses of nonviolent sanctions. See my introduction to Gene Sharp, Exploring Nonviolent Alternatives (Boston: Porter Sargent, 1970).

Moreover, I became so caught up in the widespread hope for postwar internationalism that I was happy to accept an invitation from the American Law Institute to join a group of international lawyers, American and overseas, seeking to draw up a bill of human rights. See "An International Bill of Rights," Proceedings of the American Law Institute 20 (1943): 198-204. I had been skeptical about Woodrow Wilson's ideal of making the world "safe for democracy." In recent decades I have regarded the crusade for human rights for dissidents, especially Jewish refuseniks, in the Soviet Union as one of the chief weapons by which the American right has destroyed détente and as one of the chief factors preventing the achievement of a ban, or even a moratorium, on underground testing of nuclear weapons and enough of a rapprochement with the USSR as joint guardian of the planet to cooperate in limiting and policing the proliferation of nuclear arsenals to more, and more unstable, countries. See "Human Rights and Human Prospects," commencement address at Williams College, 1977; revised and reprinted as "The Danger of the Human Rights Campaign," in Common Sense in U.S.-Soviet Relations, ed. Carl Marcy (New York: W. W. Norton, 1978), pp. 49-55. [BACK]

19. The national law schools, as Harvard had been for decades and Buffalo was becoming, and their law reviews--indeed in a sense all law reviews-- hard

worked toward the "nationalization" of American case law developed from British common-law traditions, seeking, often unsuccessfully, uniformity across state boundaries. This breadth of reference enlivens American legal research, dividing the bar between the great private and governmental establishments and the solo practitioners attentive to local law and to the idiosyncracies of local judges. [BACK]

20. In his marvelously vivacious autobiography George Homans describes his experience as a neophyte ensign commanding a small vessel in the Navy in World War II and an encounter with his chief boatswain's mate, who had picked up an unguarded coil of hawser and appropriated it, not as personal, but as ship's property. Homans forced him to return it, although the boatswain's mate could not comprehend why it was not "his positive duty to the ship to snap up, when he could, any such unconsidered trifles as spare gear that might at some time come in handy." Similarly, some Sperry employees might hoard scarce aluminum on behalf of the Navy even though it theoretically belonged to the Army Air Corps. See George Caspar Homans, Coming to My Senses: The Autobiography of a Sociologist (New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Books, 1984), p. 230.

Although I admired the probity of Sperry's engineering leadership, I was appalled by the arrogance of young officials who would insult a colonel just back from the European theater with ribbons for valor who wanted to know why Sperry could not shift production more readily; instead of being uncomfortable because they were not in uniform, these accountants and other semiprofessional Sperry officials would run up the flag of private enterprise in a company totally funded by the military. The self-abnegation of often modest officers may have been politically prudent in dealing with Sperry as a prime contractor, but it also conveyed to me how thoroughly they were indoctrinated in the subordination of the military to civilian control, a judgment later confirmed by my occasional visits to the National War College and the Air War College. Even the contravention of congressional authority in the 1980s by Admiral John Poindexter and Colonel Oliver North was in the service of higher civilian authority. I met no one remotely like General Douglas MacArthur. [BACK]

21. The treasurer of the holding company, with offices in Rockefeller Center, would have had me fired instantly had he learned of the frankness with which I discussed Sperry's difficulties with the Army Air Corps officials who were our principal contracting officers. I had to explain why we could not shift production with the speed of Westinghouse or General Motors. Moreover, when he learned of pressures the services were putting on the plants, pressures for which I was a conduit, the treasurer's impulse, from which several times I had to restrain him, was to get on the phone with his friend, the secretary of the Navy, to chew him out for giving Sperry trouble. Such bypassing by Sperry's treasurer of the proper channels might, I contended, land Sperry in far deeper trouble--for example (as I occasionally emphasized in the plants), investigation by the Truman Committee, which at the very least could take away our cherished "E" for excellence. The treasurer may have thought that I was soft on the government, whereas in fact I was so firm that my immediate boss, an amiable Sperry vice president, upbraided me for refusing to bargain (as the law required) continue

with the Corps of Engineers, which had a minuscule portion of our contracts. I knew I could not give better terms to the Corps of Engineers than those I had negotiated with the Army Air Corps, for example, adjust the amount of our advertising expense included in overhead. [BACK]

22. Vis-à-vis Nazi Germany, unconditional surrender was in part a concession to Stalin's fears of a separate anti-Soviet peace. But it also seemed to me to echo admiration for Ulysses S. Grant and his insistence on unconditional surrender in the Civil War, as well as reflect anti-German, apart from anti-Nazi, attitudes among key Roosevelt advisers. As Allen Dulles complained, this demand impeded the efforts of the German opposition to Hitler. [BACK]

23. See, for example, my essays "Predicaments in the Career of the College President," The State of the University: Authority and Change, ed. Carlos E. Kruytbosch and Sheldon L. Messinger (Beverly Hills, Calif.: Sage, 1970), pp. 73-85; and "The College Presidency," Educational Studies 13, no. 3-4 (1982): 309-35. See also my introduction to Richard Berendzen, Is My Armor Straight? The Life of a University President (Bethesda, Md.: Adler and Adler, 1985). [BACK]

24. I discuss some of my rather quixotic notions concerning the conduct of academics in "Some Personal Thoughts on the Academic Ethic," Minerva 21, nos. 2-3 (Summer-Autumn 1983): 265-84; revised in "Academic Colleagueship and Teaching," Antioch Review (1985): 401-22. [BACK]

25. Ed. Carl J. Friedrich and Edward Mason, Public Policy 3:33-96 (published by John Wiley, New York, for Harvard Graduate School of Public Policy) 1942. See also "Equality and Social Structure," Journal of Legal and Political Sociology 1 (1942): 72-95. Marcus Cunliffe has written an essay, "Watersheds," American Quarterly 3 (1961), criticizing the self-importance of believing that one is living at a time of transition, or watershed, thus giving a spurious significance to one's own historical moment; it is a useful caution. [BACK]

26. All sorts of makeshift housing, such as barracks, were in use at that time, and the returning veterans were scattered in digs all around the area. When in the first year I presided at a lecture by Milton Friedman in which he opposed rent control, the massed group of veterans booed him; I urged them to listen, reminding them that rent control would diminish the stock of housing. [BACK]

27. Reinhard Bendix has also written about this era at Chicago; see his and Joseph Gusfield's contributions to this volume. [BACK]

28. These lectures were later published in Psychiatry 13, no. 1 (1950): 1-16; ibid., no. 2 (1950): 167-87, 301-15, and are reprinted in Individualism Reconsidered . Although the published versions are of course more detailed and appropriately annotated, they give an indication of the expectations we held for our undergraduates, as well as the fact, which we jokingly recognized, that we lectured in part for one another. A critique of these lectures and of my approach to psychoanalysis and society appears in Steven Weiland, "Psychoanalysis, Rhetoric, and Social Science: David Riesman's Freud," presented at the biannual meeting of the American Studies Association, Philadelphia, Pa., November 5, 1983. [BACK]

29. The infectious enthusiasm of the faculty, the fact that the students shared the identical program and did not question its legitimacy, and a college continue

culture that encouraged sharing ideas outside the classroom led to animated class discussions that could also be intimidating to the shy. In time I worked out ways to evoke response from the diffident without stifling the assertive students. See "My Education in Soc 2 and My Efforts to Adapt It in the Harvard Setting," in a forthcoming book about the course edited by John MacAloon on behalf of the University of Chicago. [BACK]

30. On Hughes, see also Joseph Gusfield's essay in this volume, as well as my memorial address, "The Legacy of Everett Hughes," Contemporary Sociology 12, no. 5 (September 1983): 477-81. [BACK]

31. When I took a leave of absence after the end of the fall term in 1947 to work on what became The Lonely Crowd and Faces in the Crowd, I began, along with Nathan Glazer, to read interviews, irrespective of topic, available at the eastern office of the National Opinion Research Center in New York City. Paul Sheatsley and Herbert Hyman helped us understand the interview and survey work. See David Riesman and Nathan Glazer, "Social Structure, Character Structure, and Opinion," International Journal of Opinion and Attitude Research 2 (1949): 512-27; and "The Meaning of Opinion," Public Opinion Quarterly 12 (1949): 633-48. See also the cogent discussion of The Lonely Crowd in historical perspective in Rupert Wilkinson, The Pursuit of American Character (New York: Harper & Row, 1988), pp. 16-19. [BACK]

32. Some of those I met early were scientists, of whom the late Leo Szilard was one of the most notable; his Council for a Livable World, created in 1962 when he was dying of cancer, has had my admiration and support. One of the interests Edward Shils and I shared was in the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists and the people who wrote for and edited it. [BACK]

33. While the St. John's College program has included Tocqueville's Democracy in America and Marx's The Communist Manifesto and Capital and Freud and Keynes, resembling in this respect Soc 3, these works were not read in any historical context, but as parts of what the St. John's College tutors termed the great conversation. Soc 3 took for granted the importance of the historical context of the works read. [BACK]

34. See Baird Whitlock, Don't Hold Them Back: A Critique and Guide to New School-College Articulation Models (Princeton: College Board, 1978), on how such a program worked at Simon's Rock College, now Simon's Rock Early College, administered by Bard College. [BACK]

35. I do not share the contempt Hutchins had for students' interest in postbaccalaureate careers. However, believing as I do in the advantages of diversity among American colleges, I can be grateful both for the existence of the College of the University of Chicago and for institutions such as Carnegie-Mellon University, which are frankly and seriously professional. See David Riesman, "Professional Education and Liberal Education: A False Dichotomy," in Preparation for Life? The Paradox of Education in the Late Twentieth Century, ed. Joan Burstyn (London: Falmer Press, 1986). [BACK]

36. The ever-expanding pool of students and the corresponding shortage of faculty, which had helped me receive my offer in the first place, made room for expansion of the Social Sciences staff of the College. That expansion of nontenured faculty was done with a facility that in retrospect is astonishing, in the light continue

of all the steps, including clearances for affirmative action, that one has to go through today to appoint an assistant professor. Whereas it may not be surprising that I had no difficulty in securing the appointment of my former law school roommate, Donald Meiklejohn, with his brilliant undergraduate record at Wisconsin and his Harvard Ph.D. in philosophy (he was then teaching at the University of Virginia), it is less easy today to grasp how I could persuade not only my colleagues but also the dean to invite Reuel Denney, a Dartmouth graduate and at the time a public high-school teacher, who had published a well-regarded book of poetry but had no Ph.D. and no scholarly record. Daniel Bell and, several years later, Lewis Coser joined the staff of Soc 2 and only thereafter went off to earn their doctorates at Columbia. Denney stayed on and became professor of the humanities in the College. See Michael Schuson, "The Intellectual History of Soc 2," in John MacAloon's forthcoming book. I would like to add here that I owe much of my knowledge of, and interest in, American popular culture to Denney's stimulation, some of it reflected also in The Lonely Crowd . [BACK]

37. At one point Donald Meiklejohn, accepting his father's belief that lecturing was an antiquated idea and that only discussion with students in the Socratic mode was worthwhile, sought to reduce or eliminate the lectures and have three or four section meetings a week. I thought, as I have already indicated, that the idea was unwise pedagogically since the rhythm of lectures and sections had in my judgment worked well. Such a change would have meant an increase in the responsibility of each instructor, who would have to prepare three or four rather than two section meetings. I regarded many of the section meetings, conducted along Socratic lines ("What did Max Weber mean by this particular sentence?"), as a kind of Ping-Pong between a few bright students and the section leader. I thought it important that students be exposed to the full range of lecturers that the university offered rather than having their experience confined to the particular person in whose section they landed or to whose section they might shift. Happily for many of us on the Soc 2 staff, Meiklejohn's motion did not carry. [BACK]

38. As part of the revision of Soc 2, we recruited another cultural anthropologist (Rosalie Hankey, later Rosalie Hankey Wax, who had done her fieldwork in the Japanese relocation camps) and added another sociologist with a historical slant (Helen Mims). Later we found a survey researcher (Mark Benney, who had done public-opinion surveys for the British government during World War II), a sociologist with an interest in leisure (Sebastian DeGrazia), and others; we already had a political scientist (Morton Grodzins).

I looked without success for an economist willing to join the staff. In methodological and perhaps conceptual terms, economics appears to have been the most advanced and, in student recruitment, the most attractive among the social sciences; the highly professionalized narrowness of some of even its most able practitioners may reflect this. (We found no one within our orbit who used the modes of thought of economics as do such Harvard colleagues and former colleagues as Thomas Schelling or Albert Hirschman.) Herbert Simon, in his Nobel Prize speech for the award in economics, emphasized the importance of studies of disaggregated economic phenomena in minute detail. Indeed Simon, with his wit and continuing interest in undergraduate education and his polymath probing and subtle curiosity, may be regarded as continue

the ideal product of the University of Chicago in the 1940s. In my early years at Chicago I occasionally suggested to graduate students in economics that they take a leave of absence to do something akin to fieldwork by accepting a position, for example, as assistant comptroller in a small business; they would thus learn something about microeconomics in a direct way. Invariably their reaction was that aggregate statistics were more than adequate for the understanding of economic phenomena--and in any case, while they were in a company that would necessarily be dismissed as idiosyncratic, some disciple of Paul Samuelson would have published four articles in refereed economics journals! It was not a hazard that a bright, aspiring economist wished to take. [BACK]

39. In her biography of Harry Stack Sullivan, Helen Swick Perry provides a subtle, unflattering portrait of Lasswell as gifted and vain--and something of a con man. See her Psychiatrist of America: The Life of Harry Stack Sullivan (Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press, 1982). [BACK]

40. On my second leave of absence from the Soc 2 staff I arranged for Mills to take my place; he and his wife lived in our home, sharing it for that period with the Lewis and Rose Coser family. When I came back to the College, students told me how contemptuous Mills had been of some of the readings. He had begun his first class by planting his paratrooper boots on the seminar table and throwing Patterns of Culture across the room, saying in effect that he would be damned if he was going to waste time on some little tribes. No "New Men of Power," they! [BACK]

41. Thorstein Veblen: A Critical Interpretation (New York: Scribner, 1953). See also "The Social and Psychological Setting of Veblen's Economic Theory," Journal of Economic History 13 (1953): 449-61; and "Veblen's System of Social Science," Explorations 2 (1954): 84-97. I came to regret my commitment to write about Veblen, for I judged that I had to read everything he had ever written and, less arduous since there was not an enormous amount of it, everything written about him in English. Veblen was in some respects an American provincial, having to deal with Marx but not with the great European thinkers who were his contemporaries. In his best works he coupled telling insights into the nature of work (for example, the "instinct" of craftsmanship), leisure, and the anthropology of war with brilliant and sardonic wit. They also display crankiness and great redundancy and include some interesting puzzles, such as the sudden desire of this reclusive scholar to engage in the crusade against Germany in the First World War by working for the United States government. A later book on Veblen, more sympathetic than mine and linking him to his European contemporaries, does not appear to me to solve these contradictions either; see John P. Diggins, The Bard of Savagery (New York: Seabury Press, 1978). [BACK]

42. The study of aging was a particular interest of Neugarten and Henry, and I was peripherally involved in it. See David Riesman, "Some Clinical and Cultural Aspects of Aging," American Journal of Sociology 59 (1954): 379-83; and "A Career Drama in a Middle-Aged Farmer," Bulletin of the Menninger Clinic 19 (1955): 1-8. [BACK]

43. In this exploratory period (1950-51) I came upon a phenomenon that still perplexes me. The local elites who were linked by their interest in commu- soft

nity development and improvement included the then editor of the Kansas City Star, a long established and influential newspaper. If there was a meeting to consider some exigent problem, be it the reconstruction of downtown or conditions in the public schools, the people who with near unanimity came to some conclusion did not believe the decision had actually occurred until it was legitimated by publication in the Star, though the Star editor had been among the consulting group. To put it in slightly comical terms, they did not know that they were the power elite until they read about themselves and the outcome of their consultation in the daily paper. [BACK]

44. See David Riesman, "The Study of Kansas City: An Informal Overture," University of Kansas City Review 20 (1953): 15-22. [BACK]

45. I later collected some of the notes bearing on religion, removed identifying details, and published them as "Some Informal Notes on American Churches and Sects," Confluence 4 (1955): 127-59. [BACK]

46. For fuller discussion see David Riesman, "Ethical  and Practical Dilemmas of Fieldwork in Academic Settings: A Personal Memoir," in Qualitative and Quantitative Social Research: Papers in Honor of Paul F. Lazarfeld, ed. Robert K. Merton, James Coleman, and Peter Rossi (New York: Free Press, 1978). The Kansas City connection had as one outcome the study of the University of Kansas Medical School, initiated by Everett Hughes, and later of campus cultures at the University of Kansas, in which I participated vicariously by reading the interviews and field notes. See Howard S. Becker, Blanche Geer, Everett C. Hughes, and Anselm Strauss, Boys in White: Student Culture in Medical School (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961); and Howard S. Becker, Blanche Geer, and Everett C. Hughes, Making the Grade: The Academic Side of College Life (New York: Wiley, 1968). [BACK]

47. Michael Maccoby, then a graduate student in the Department of Social Relations and secretary of the Faculty of Arts and Sciences, greatly helped in the staffing of the course. For a fuller account of the course and teaching at Harvard, see my "On Discovering and Teaching Sociology: A Memoir." break

I am grateful to my wife, Phyllis Rakita Marx, who has patiently and lovingly helped me sort out these issues, and for further critical comments and suggestions I wish to thank Jerry Aumente, Judith Auerbach, Murray Davis, Rosabeth Kanter, John McCarthy, Nancy Reichman, Zick Rubin, Susan Silbey, Barry Stein, Mike Useem, John Van Maanen, Chuck Wexler, and Jim Wood. [BACK]