Explanations of Social Exclusion: Where Does Housing Fit in?

This paper takes the view that concepts of social exclusion are socially constructed by different combinations of economic, social and political processes. It is suggested that the core meaning of social exclusion is bound up with social isolation and social segregation, and it is therefore argued that an analysis of social mobility (or the lack of it) is crucial to understanding the content and extent of social exclusion. Three approaches to the analysis of social mobility are brie ̄ y considered, and it is concluded that the causation of social exclusion appears to have three interrelated dimensions: economic, legal/political, and moral/ideological. The main theoretical approaches to social exclusion, encompassing `structural’ and `cultural’ perspectives, are then examined, and a new, more holistic theory is proposed, using the concept of a duality of interrelated labour processes. This theory is developed on three different levels, corresponding to the three dimensions of social exclusion. The final part of the paper is concerned with the application of the theory of social exclusion to housing processes. The latter are discussed under the headings of housing production, housing tenure, residential segregation, housing mobility, and processes associated with homelessness and leaving home. It is shown how housing processes cut across the different social levels (labour process, social reproduction and ideology), how they reflect prevailing patterns of social exclusion, and how they can either mitigate or reinforce those patterns. Social exclusion is distinguished from forms of housing exclusion (for example, relating to tenure), with which it is sometimes confused. It is noted that the groups which are commonly socially excluded through housing processes are those which are to be expected on the basis of the theory, namely unwaged, unskilled, not within a `traditional’ family household, and seen as `undeserving’. The Meaning of Social Exclusion The term `social exclusion’ has been used increasingly in recent years as a result of the Europeanisation of social policy (Levitas, 1996). There exists considerable variation, however, in the meaning attached to the term, in the social groups which are held to be excluded, in the construction of social exclusion as a social and political problem, and in political and academic approaches to understanding and explaining that problem. Two meanings of social exclusion appear to be particularly prevalent. The first relates to exclusion from the labour markets of advanced capitalist countries. One general argument here is that due to processes of economic restructuring in these countries a substantial proportion of their populations have been consigned to long-term unemployment. The second meaning, in contrast, relates to the denial of social citizenship status to certain social groups. The usual argument here focuses on processes of stigmatisation and restrictive or oppressive legislation and law enforcement, and forms of institutional discrimination. Each of these two meanings needs a little more explication. The first relates to the social division of labour, and assumes the primacy of labour market participation for inclusion in society more generally. This meaning has been criticised for ignoring the economic and social importance of unpaid work (Levitas, 1996, p. 12). Nevertheless, access to labour market positions can be crucial for wider social inclusion or integration in a capitalist society (Levitas, 1996, p. 18), and this points us directly to the second meaning. In any case, the first meaning does not make it clear whether or not the insecurely employed should be grouped together with the long-term unemployed. Social exclusion in this sense could be defined in terms of either exclusion from the labour market or exclusion from secure paid employment (Morris, 1995). The second meaning relates to the social division of welfare (Titmuss, 1958). In this case, there is a different ambiguity, relating to social citizenship, which can mean anything from a right to a minimum income to a right to a decent standard of living (which involves access to education, health care and housing, among other things). One approach is to assume that everybody should have the same opportunities in life, and there should be no exclusion on the basis of class/race/sex/age/sexuality/disabilities/etc; but there remains the possibility that people may be excluded on other grounds. There are perhaps three possibilities here. One is that a `citizen’ does not take advantage of the opportunities presented (this can occur either through incompetence or through contrariness). Another is that they commit an incivil or illegal act which results in a loss of entitlement, for example, exclusion from school or from a housing estate for anti-social behaviour. Third, the exercise of a right could be contingent upon the discharge of certain obligations, and failure to meet these obligations could mean forfeiture of the right and consequently exclusion from the benefits which that right secures. For example, failure to sign on the employment register can lead to exclusion from unemployment benefit, or failure to pay rent can result in eviction from one’ s home. In each case, a distinction is being made between `deserving’ and `undeserving’ persons, and it is argued that it is only the latter who can legitimately be socially excluded. A further ambiguity of the `citizenship’ approach to social exclusion relates to immigration policy. For example, `citizen’ could mean `British citizen’ , `citizen of the European Union’, or even `citizen of the world’. Various writers have commented upon how the terminology of national, and more recently of European, citizenship has been used to exclude foreign nationals and non-EU nationals (Cohen, 1985; Harrison, 1991; Jacobs, 1985; Mitchell & Russell, 1994). Thus, socially inclusionary projects can be simultaneously socially exclusionary. In order to deal with these multiple ambiguities of the concept, this paper takes the view that social exclusion is socially constructed. Meanings of social exclusion are produced by combinations of economic, social and political processes, and one consequence of this is a considerable variety of socially excluded groups. What all these groups have in common, and what lies at the heart of all processes of social exclusion, is a sense of social isolation and segregation from the formal structures and institutions of the economy, society, and the state. Social exclusion in general, therefore, is not so very different from poverty, construed in relational terms rather than absolute or relative terms (Corrigan, 1978). The concentration on process makes it appropriate to begin with a discussion of social mobility, because lack of such mobility could be taken as prima facie evidence of social exclusion in any sense. This discussion leads on to an analysis of theoretical approaches to social exclusion, and the latter part of the paper is then concerned with how exclusionary processes manifest themselves through networks of housing relations. Social Exclusion and Social Mobility Social mobility could refer to mobility into and out of the labour market, into and out of poverty, or between `deserving’ and `undeserving’ social categories. If such mobility were low, it would suggest the probable existence of social exclusion, and the meaning of social exclusion would depend upon the social construction of the institutions concerned in each case. The precise nature of this social exclusion could then be investigated through more detailed study of these institutions such as the labour market, the state benefits system, and the `core ideology’ (Gramsci, 1971) of individual responsibility. The Approach of `Class Analysis’ One problem with many mobility studies, especially in England, is that they are articulated within programmes of `class analysis’ which have little bearing on the issue of social exclusion as such (Goldthorpe, 1987; Marshall et al., 1989). In these studies, social mobility is understood as a change in the class position and orientation of individuals (from `origins’ to `destinations’), not in terms of processes of transition of social groups into and out of key social networks and institutions. Payne (1992), for example, points out that a the boundaries between the social divisions of the three classes [service class, intermediate class, and working class] have weakenedo (p. 231), in the sense that it has become more likely for individuals to move from one class to another. This does not tell us, however, whether the class structure as a whole has become more or less open to any given social grouping. It is also far from clear why the upward `moving column’ of material mobility to which Payne refers should present a problem for a class-based perspective, because increased material prosperity for all is not incompatible with a growing gap between rich and poor. There is also no contradiction between an aggregate increase in upward mobility (whether absolute or relative) and reduced upward mobility for certain social groups. In contrast to the English approach to class analysis, two other approaches to social mobility can be distinguished. One is associated with the so-called `sociology of consumption’ (Burrows & Marsh, 1992), and derives from the work of Pahl (1984, 1988) and Saunders (1986). The other adopts an international comparative perspective, and is identfied with the work of Esping-Andersen and his collaborators (Esping-Andersen, 1993). The Consumptionist Approach The first approach, which I call consumptionist, holds that consumption activity forms an increasingly important source of social stratfication independent of that deriving from social class. The main social classes are allegedly fusing gradually into an increasingly comfortable, culturally standardised, and privatised `middle mass’ (Pahl, 1988; Saunders, 1986). Consequently, divisions arising from production are said to be declining in importance, while those arising from consumption are becoming more pronounced. In practice, however, even in the US where these processes are alleged to be most advanced, there is little evidence to suggest that the establishment of a `mass culture’ has been associated with a decline in class-based forms of social organisation (Grusky, 1994, p. 21). It is simply not the case that, just because the `moving column’ of material mobility (to use Payne’s expression) involves increasing consumption, the role of production is bound to be downgraded. The relevance of the consumptionist approach for the purposes of this paper is that it is associated with an argument that the new `middle mass’ has become increasingly detached from a socially isolated and hopeless `underclass’ (Auletta, 1982; Pahl, 1988). This argument has been considered in much more detail in Morris (1994), and her critique will be discussed in the next section. Here it is sufficient to point out that the consumptionist writers, while being highly critical of the `class analysis ’ approach, have not proposed any coherent alternative criteria for the identification and measurement of social mobility, whether in relation to participation in the labour market, dependence on state benefits, or `deserving’ status. The International Comparative Approach This approach looks potentially more fruitful, for three reasons. It is based on a greater breadth and depth of empirical evidence, it has a more pragmatic approach to ideological and theoretical assumptions, and it focuses on the causes of social exclusion as well as its outcomes. The question which Esping-Andersen poses is how recent changes in advanced capitalist labour processes have affected social mobility and class formation. Evidence from six countries (Britain, Germany, Sweden, Norway, US and Canada) indicates some potential for class closure (a socially constructed system of barrier s to upward social mobility) a in terms of a relatively closed mobility circuit between unskilled service jobs, sales jobs, and including probably also unemployment and household worko (Esping Andersen, 1993, p. 231). The extent to which this has actually occurred, however, appears to vary, with major differences emerging between the American countries, the Scandinavian countries, Britain and Germany. Esping-Andersen concludes that in the American and Scandinavian countries a from the point of view of class formation, fluidity and mobility patterns are simply too strong for any significant social closure to occuro (p. 235). In America, this is due primarily to the expansion of (low-paid) private sector service jobs, and in Scandinavia it is the result mainly of the growth of the public service sector. In Britain and Germany, in contrast, mobility is more restricted, but even in these countries the a degree of class closure is highly uncertaino (p. 235). Esping-Andersen’ s general point, therefore, is that although recent developments in capitalist labour processes have created the potential for the formation of a new non-mobile `underclass’, there is some doubt about whether this has actually happened, and if it does happen it is likely to take different forms in different parts of the world. Esping-Andersen qualifies his conclusion in two ways, the first of which relates to gender and the second to education. These factors, together with the welfare state, are used to explain the international variation in mobility regimes. On gender, Esping-Andersen points to the possibility of an underprivileged `class’ of unskilled women, moving within a closed circuit between unskilled services, low-end sales and low-end clerical work (Esping-Andersen, 1993, p. 235). This could develop in any of the six study countries. On education, he stresses that the upward mobility out of the (private or public) service jobs is increasingly related to the possession of educational qualifications, so those without such qualifications may find themselves moving only within a a circuit of essentially similar unattractive jobso (p. 235), which could turn out to be a form of class closure. Another effect of the increasing importance of educational qualifications is that mobility to the top layers of the stratfication system becomes more and more difficult. Consequently, a the role of education in the post-industrial order may be to assure openness at the lower rungs of the stratfication, but solidification and class closure at the topo (pp. 235±236). The differences in national mobility regimes can be explained by reference to the degree of citizen participation in further and higher education (high in America and Scandinavia, low in Britain and Germany), the degree of public welfare provision relative to private welfare (high in Scandinavia, low in America), and the nature and extent of female participation in the labour market (high but segregated in Scandinavia, high but less segregated in America, lower and segregated in Britain and Germany). Empirical research therefore tends to suggest that, in attempting to understand social exclusion, a more holistic approach needs to be adopted. The labour market needs to be considered alongside systems of education, welfare, citizenship rights and the ascription of gender roles. The next section considers the causation of social exclusion in more detail. Is it possible to develop a holistic theory to make sense of the complex nature of exclusion? Such a theory might contribute to understanding of the composition of socially excluded groups, and inform policy on how to combat social exclusion. It would need to consider three interrelated dimensions: economic, legal/political, and moral/ideological. Theories of Social Exclusion Discussion of social exclusion inevitably raises the question of the existence and character of an `underclass’ or `outsider’ group, which is socially distinct from (and below) the main social classes. Theories of social exclusion have therefore been framed mainly in relation to this alleged entity. For example, van Parijs (1987) has talked of an insider-outsider cleavage in terms of a a closed labour market of (upgraded) insiders enjoying high wages and job security, and a swelling army of outsiders including youth, long-term unemployed, early retirees, and discouraged workerso (quoted in Esping-Andersen, 1994, p. 699). These theories have been comprehensively and systematically reviewed by Morris (1994) (see also Morris & Scott, 1996), and consequently Morris’ work represents a useful starting point for the present paper. `Structural’ and `Cultural’ Approaches Morris (1994, p. 80) identifies two general theoretical or ideological positions with respect to an `underclass’. One is broadly `cultural’, seeing the source of their social exclusion as lying in the attitudes and behaviour of the underclass itself. For example, Murray (1984) has argued that welfare dependency has encouraged both the break-up of the nuclear family household and socialisation into a counter-culture which devalues work and promotes dependency and/or criminality. The other is termed `structural’, and sees the source of social exclusion as lying in the structured inequality which disadvantages particular groups in society, for example the failure to provide sufficient secure employment to meet demand, and the consequent destabilisation of the male breadwinner role. Some writers, notably Wilson (1987), have attempted to integrate `structural’ and `cultural’ approaches, but Morris argues that they are irreconcilable (Morris, 1994, p. 87). She sees the `cultural’ position as incorrect and ideological, and the `structural’ position as correct and scientific. Many of her criticisms of the `culture’ theorists are valid, for example, lack of evidence for a `culture of dependency’ or for a link between nuclear family break-up and decline of work ethic. It is not possible, however, to identify a clear boundary between `structure’ and `culture’, at least not without being far more explicit about the theoretical underpinnings of the `structural’ approach. A social structure is, after all, only an ordered set of social relations, and these relations could just as well be `cultural’ as `economic’. It may not be the theoretical approach of the `culturalists’ which is at fault, but rather their empirical evidence and the correlations which they draw between different pieces of such `evidence’. The structural factors which Morris regards as most important in giving rise to social exclusion are the labour market and the state. She is uncertain as to which of these has priority, and therefore suggests that they relate to two different issues (social class and social citizenship, respectively). The whole force of the concept of `underclass’, however, is precisely to make a connection between these two issues, by implying that those who do not ®t into the class structure will tend to be the same people who are excluded from social citizenship. Other structural factors which Morris mentions include social isolation, racism, and traditional gender roles, but she does not make it clear how these factors relate to the (more fundamental?) structural factors of labour market and state. Are structures of community, white dominance and patriarchy not closely bound up with class and politics, and should we not therefore expect a more holistic approach? For example, in the American context, the issue is surely not whether it is racism or unemployment which is responsible for the exclusion of the `ghetto poor’ (Wilson, 1987), but how precisely capital flows and racial discrimination combine so as to produce the ghetto phenomenon. Or again, in relation to lone mothers, the issue is not so much whether they might form an underclass (Murray says yes, Morris says no), but the precise ways in which capitalist structures based on male wage-labour oppress women with responsibilities for children. In this context, it is perhaps worth noting that American research has indicated that it is not single motherhood as such which causes the social exclusion of this group, but the combination of single motherhood with social isolation and lack of exploitable skills (Jencks & Petersen, 1991). Indeed, for many unskilled married women, the position may not be so very different (Esping-Andersen, 1993, p. 235). Perhaps the main problem with Morris’ `structural’ approach is that it neglects the role of agency, and in particular the views and practices of the socially excluded themselves. What, after all, is a `structural’ factor but a social process which has been abstracted from human activity? One example should serve to clarify this point. Gallie (1994), who largely shares Morris’ `structural’ approach, has argued that the chances of obtaining paid employment are related to the structural conditions of the labour market rather than to `cultural’ considerations such as the degree of commitment to work. All studies of the labour market have shown, however, that a informal patterns of association can be critical in determining who is successful in the search for employmento (Morris, 1995, p. 38), and such informal connections would appear, in Gallie’s and Morris’ terms, to be `cultural’ rather than `structural’. The distinction between `structural’ and `cultural’ factors is therefore either not as clear-cut as these writers claim, or else the way in which they wish to draw it is theoretically ̄ awed. Perhaps the important distinction, after all, is not one between `structure’ and `culture’ (which is in fact based on an outdated base/ superstructure model of society), but one between progressive and reactionary social forces, between social processes which promote social inclusion and those which lead to social exclusion, between processes which increase and those which reduce the degree of control which people exercise over their everyday