Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior: An Integration of Sociological and Psychological Perspectives (Critical Issues in Social Justice)

Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior An Integration of Sociological and Psychological Perspectives CRITICAL ISSUES IN SO...

Author: Detlev Fetchenhauer | Andreas Flache | Abraham Buunk | Sigwaart Lindenberg

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Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior An Integration of Sociological and Psychological Perspectives

CRITICAL ISSUES IN SOCIAL JUSTICE Series Editor: Melvin J. Lerner, University of Waterloo, Waterloo, Ontario, Canada Advisory Editors: Ronald C. Dillehay, Grant Sawyer Center for Justice Studies, University of Nevada, Reno; Leo Montada, Center for Justice Research, University of Potsdam, Germany

CURRENT SOCIETAL CONCERNS ABOUT JUSTICE Leo Montada and Melvin J. Lerner

ENTITLEMENT AND THE AFFECTIONAL BOND: Justice in Close Relationships Edited by Melvin J. Lerner and Gerold Mikula

THE JUSTICE MOTIVE AS A PERSONAL RESOURCE: Dealing with Challenges and Critical Life Events Claudia Dalbert

LEGACY OF INJUSTICE: Exploring the Cross-Generational Impact of the Japanese-American Internment Donna K. Nagata

LIVING AND DYING WELL Lewis Petrinovich

REGULATING RELIGION: Case Studies from Around the Globe Edited by James T. Richardson

RESPONSES TO VICTIMIZATION AND BELIEF IN A JUST WORLD Edited by Leo Montada and Melvin J. Lerner

SOLIDARITY AND PROSOCIAL BEHAVIOR: An Integration of Sociological and Psychological Perspectives Edited by Detlef Fetchenhauer, Andreas Flache, Bram Buunk, and Siegwart Lindenberg

THEORY, JUSTICE, AND SOCIAL CHANGE: Theoretical Integrations and Critical Applications Christopher Williams and Bruce Arrigo

VALUES, ACHIEVEMENT, AND JUSTICE: Studies in the Psychology of Deservingness Norman T. Feather

Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior An Integration of Sociological and Psychological Perspectives Edited by

Detlef Fetchenhauer, Andreas Flache, and Bram Buunk University of Groningen Groningen, Netherlands

Siegwart Lindenberg University of Groningen Groningen, Netherlands

Detlef Fetchenhauer Andreas Flache Bram Buunk Siegwart Lindenberg University of Groningen Groningen, Netherlands

Series Editor: Melvin J. Lerner University of Waterloo Waterloo, Ontario Canada

Library of Congress Control Number: 2005930805 ISBN-10: 0-387-28031 -6 ISBN-13: 978-0387-28031-8

e-ISBN 0-387-28032-4

Printed on acid-free paper. © 2006 Springer Science+Business Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This work may not be translated or copied in whole or in part without the written permission of the publisher (Springer Science+Business Media, Inc., 233 Spring Street, New York, NY 10013, USA), except for brief excerpts in connection with reviews or scholarly analysis. Use in connection with any form of information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed is forbidden. The use in this publication of trade names, trademarks, service marks, and similar terms, even if they are not identified as such, is not to be taken as an expression of opinion as to whether or not they are subject to proprietary rights. Printed in the United States of America. 987654321 springeronline.com

(SPI/IBT)

Contributors

Hans-Werner Bierhoff, University of Bochum, 44801 Bochum, Germany Bram P. Buunk, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Pieternel Dijkstra, Slochtermeenteweg 44, Slochteren, The Netherlands, 9621 CP David Dunning, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, 14853 Detlef Fetchenhauer, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Andreas Flache, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Linda Bridges Karr, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Siegwart Lindenberg, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Michael W. Macy, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York, 14853 Lucas C.P.M. Meijs, Erasmus University of Rotterdam, Rotterdam, The Netherlands, 3000 DR Marco Perugini, University of Essex, Colchester, United Kingdom, CO4 3SQ Karin Sanders, University of Tilburg, Tilburg, The Netherlands, 5000 LE René Veenstra, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Gerben van der Vegt, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Evert van de Vliert, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Rafael Wittek, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL Karen van der Zee, University of Groningen, Groningen, The Netherlands, 9712 GL

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About the Contributors

Hans-Werner Bierhoff is full professor of social psychology at the University of Bochum (Germany). One of his research foci is the explanation of prosocial behavior. On this topic he has published in journals like the Journal of Personality and has edited different books on solidarity and responsibility. Recently he published a textbook on prosocial behavior. Bram P. Buunk is full professor of social psychology at the University of Groningen. He is interested in a wide range of topics (e.g., evolutionary psychology, social comparison processes, and health psychology) and has more than 300 scientific publications on his record. Inter alia he has published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, the Journal of Personality, and the Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin. He was recently appointed Academy Chair by the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences (KNAW). Pieternel Dijkstra is currently working as a freelance author. She is mainly interested in gender differences in mating behavior and jealousy. The results of her research have been published in the European Journal of Social Psychology, Personal Relationships, Evolution and Human Behavior, and the Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin. David Dunning is full professor of psychology at Cornell University. His research focuses on biases in the perception of self and others. He is a former associate editor of the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology and has published in major social psychological journals like the Journal of Applied Psychology, Motivation and Emotion, Social Cognition or the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology. Detlef Fetchenhauer is both, full professor of social and economic psychology at the University of Cologne (Germany) and lecturer at the department of sociology at the University of Groningen. He is mainly interested in evolutionary psychology and in determinants vii

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and explanations of prosocial and antisocial behavior. His work has been published in Evolution and Human Behavior and in Personality and Individual Differences. Furthermore, he co-edited a German book on solidarity. Andreas Flache is assistant professor of sociology at the University of Groningen. His main research is in the fields of social integration social networks, cooperation and formal modeling of social behavior. He has published his work in, for example, The Journal of Conflict Resolution, Annual Review of Sociology, Rationality and Society and Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. Linda B. Karr is currently a senior researcher at the department of sociology of the University of Groningen. Her main research interest(s) is the study of volunteer organizations where she presently carried out the first large-scale international survey study on scouting organizations. Michael W. Macy is full professor of sociology at Cornell University. His main research interests are the study of cooperation and collective action, social simulation, learning theory, and behavioral game theory. His work appeared in a large number of international journals and books, some of which are the American Journal of Sociology, American Sociological Review, and Annual Review of Sociology. Lucas C.P.M. Meijs is assistant professor of management of nonprofit organizations at the Erasmus University in Rotterdam. His main research topics are member motivation and management in volunteer organizations. His work appeared in books and international journals such as the Journal of Volunteer Management and Voluntary Action. Siegwart M. Lindenberg is full professor of theoretical sociology at the University of Groningen. His main research areas are the study of solidarity, organizational governance, social rationality, and framing theory. He published his work in numerous international journals such as Journal of Management and Governance, Journal of Management and Governance, Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics, and in his book Handbook of Sociological Theory. Marco Perugini is senior lecturer at the University of Essex (England). Besides other topics he is interested in personality research and reciprocity in human behavior. His work has been published in the British Journal of Social Psychology, the European Journal of Social Psychology, the European Journal of Personality, and the Journal of Behavioral Decision Making.


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Karin Sanders is full professor of human resource management at the University of Tilburg. Her main research fields are solidarity at work and the governance of modern organizations. Her work was published, for example, in Small Group Research and the Journal of Organizational and Occupational Psychology. René Veenstra is senior researcher at the department of sociology of the University of Groningen. His main research interests are the development of pro- and antisocial behavior and the analysis of school effectiveness and school performance indicators. Publications of his work appeared in Educational Research and Evaluation and International Journal of Education and Religion. Gerben van der Vegt is associate professor of management and organization at the department of human resource management at the University of Groningen. His research focuses on the processes associated with the integration of knowledge and expertise in work teams, effective team design, organizational diversity, and socialization. He has published in journals like Personnel Psychology, Journal of Management, and the Academy of Management Journal. Evert van der Vliert is full professor of organizational and applied psychology at the University of Groningen. His main research deals with conflicts in organizations and with the influence of ambient temperature on cross-cultural differences in human behavior. Besides authoring several books he published in the Journal of Cross-cultural Psychology, the Journal of Management, the Journal of Organizational Behavior, and the Academy of Management Journal. Rafael P. M. Wittek is full professor of sociology at the University of Groningen. His main research fields are in organizational governance, informal networks in organizations, and organizational change. He published his work in Computational and Mathematical Organization Theory, the Journal of Mathematical Sociology, and Research in the Sociology of Organizations (edited volume). Karen van der Zee is full professor of organizational psychology at the University of Groningen. Her research interests lie in the field of personality research, coping with critical life events, and cultural diversity in organizations. She has published in the Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, the Journal of Applied Psychology, Personality and Individual Differences, and the Journal of Personality.

Contents

About the Contributors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .vii Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .xiii Introduction 1. Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior: A Framing Approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .3 Siegwart Lindenberg, Detlef Fetchenhauer, Andreas Flache, and Bram Buunk Part I.

Micromechanisms

2. Prosocial Behavior, Solidarity, and Framing Processes . . . . . . .23 Siegwart Lindenberg 3. Learning and Framing in Social Exchange . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .45 Andreas Flache and Michael W. Macy 4. Perceptions of Prosociality and Solidarity in Self and Others . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .61 Detlef Fetchenhauer and David Dunning Part II.

Personality and Socialization

5. Personality and Solidary Behavior . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .77 Karen van der Zee and Marco Perugini 6. The Development of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior in Adolescence . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .93 René Veenstra Part III.

Social Context: Networks and Social Exchange

7. The Ultimate Betrayal? Infidelity and Solidarity in Close Relationships . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .111 Bram P. Buunk and Pieternel Dijkstra

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Contents

8. Understanding the Joint Effects of Interdependence and Diversity on Solidarity in Work Teams . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .125 Gerben van der Vegt and Andreas Flache Part IV.

Institutional Context

9. Employees’ Organizational Solidarity within Modern Organizations: A Framing Perspective on the Effects of Social Embeddedness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .141 Karin Sanders, Andreas Flache, Gerben van der Vegt, and Evert van de Vliert 10. Sustaining the Motivation to Volunteer in Organizations . . . .157 Linda Bridges Karr and Lucas C.P.M. Meijs Part V.

Cultural Context

11. Ethnic Identity and Solidarity with Functional Groups . . . . .175 Karen van der Zee 12. Solidarity in the Absence of External Sanctions: A Cross-Cultural Study of Educational Goals and Fair-Share Behavior . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .191 Detlef Fetchenhauer and Rafael Wittek 13. Wealth, Climate, and Framing: Cross-National Differences in Solidarity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .207 Evert van de Vliert and Siegwart Lindenberg Part VI.

Outlook

14. How to Explain Prosocial and Solidary Behavior: A Comparison of Framing Theory with Related MetaTheoretical Paradigms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .225 Hans-Werner Bierhoff and Detlef Fetchenhauer Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .243

Preface

This book is the product of an intensive cooperation between psychologists and sociologists who study solidarity and prosocial behavior, and its fruits are briefly summarized in Chapter 1. The topics of solidarity and prosocial behavior are at the core of both disciplines and thus one might expect that an intensive cooperation like the one that produced this book is not uncommon. Surprisingly however, it is extremely rare that sociologists and psychologists get together to combine their knowledge in these fields. Instead, researchers from both disciplines tend to ignore each other’s work quite generally, and the work on prosocial and antisocial behavior is no exception. The conviction that sociology and psychology can benefit from each other’s work led us—a group of sociologists and psychologists at the University of Groningen (The Netherlands)—in 1999 to launch a joint research project on solidarity and prosociality. The aim was to find a common ground on which insights from each discipline could contribute to a broader understanding of solidarity and prosocial behavior. This interdisciplinary research project was called Prosocial Dispositions and Solidary Behavior and it was financed by the University of Groningen as a so-called breedtestrategie program (i.e., a program for broadening disciplinary approaches). The research group that incorporated most of the contributors to this book started with great enthusiasm, but we soon learned that the cooperation between the disciplines was more difficult than initially expected. One major problem was language. We realized only gradually that sometimes one thing had different names in the other discipline (e.g., prosocial behavior vs. solidarity), but the same term may also have different meanings (e.g., “framing”). At times, linguistic conventions of one discipline appeared awkward to scholars of the other. For example, one of the editors of this volume refused to accept the terms Ego and Alter to be used throughout the book, although these terms are widely accepted in sociology. One consequence of the terminological differences between sociology and psychology was our attempt to avoid any kind of jargon in this xiii

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Preface

book unless it was necessary to explain the respective terms. We hope that the reader will profit from the terminological clarity and simplicity that we aimed to reach throughout the different chapters. After we learned to speak (or at least to understand) each other’s language, the experiences of our research team can be seen as a good illustration of what Van der Vegt and Flache (Chapter 8 of this volume) found: diversity in knowledge and background can foster productivity and solidarity in work teams if its members realize the profits that may issue from such diversity. Although this book (and the underlying project) was initiated by researchers affiliated at the University of Groningen, we succeeded in getting input, ideas, and collaboration from prominent researchers in the field outside our university. In March 2001 and in October 2002 we invited a number of internationally highly recognized scholars from both psychology and sociology to spend some time with us at the Dutch island of Schiermonikoog. At these symposia we profited from their perspectives and comments on our common project and felt much encouraged to pursue the common path. We are very thankful for their enthusiasm and their willingness to travel sometimes thousands of miles to participate in a 3-day meeting. Attendants of the first meeting were Hans-Werner Bierhoff (University of Bochum, Germany), Chris Barveldt (University of Utrecht), David Dunning (Cornell University), Douglas Heckathorn (Cornell University), Marco Perugini (University of Essex), and Rolf Ziegler (University of Munich, Germany). Attendants of our second symposium were Richard Fabes (Arizona State University), Carol Martin (Arizona State University), Michael Macy (Cornell University), Randy Hodson (Ohio State University), and Chris Snijders (University of Eindhoven, The Netherlands). Our guests not only gave us precious ideas and comments, but through discussions many of them actually got involved in the projects underlying this book and became co-authors of a chapter in our volume. The close cooperation between sociologists and psychologists within this book is also highlighted by the fact that many chapters were written jointly by scholars from both disciplines. We hope that the reader may find it difficult to identify which parts of the various chapters were written by a sociologist and which by a psychologist. This would be a sign that we were successful in integrating the perspectives on solidarity and prosocial behavior. This book summarizes the outcomes of our interdisciplinary cooperation during the past years, but it does not mark its end. To the contrary, in the meantime a second research project linking sociologists and psychologists has started at the University of Groningen. Thus, our common exploration of the riches and difficulties of combining sociology and psychology has only just begun. The different perspectives

Preface

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and insights summarized in this book will hopefully also help the reader to come to a better understanding of prosocial behavior and solidarity and encourage cross-disciplinary research. Finally, we would like to thank the University of Groningen for a generous grant for the entire project.

CHAPTER 1

Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior: A Framing Approach Siegwart Lindenberg, Detlef Fetchenhauer, Andreas Flache, and Bram Buunk

This book is about what sociologists call solidarity and social psychologists call prosocial behavior. Any group or society heavily depends on the willingness of its members to help others in need, to contribute to a common good, to show themselves worthy of trust, and to be fair and considerate. While this is widely recognized, it is less obvious what makes people behave solidarily in one situation and keeps them from acting solidarily in another situation. It was our intention to offer a fresh look at this age-old question by focusing on the cognitive processes that influence an actor’s degree of solidarity and that mediate the influence of both the personality of a given actor and the situation in which a behavior takes place. One conclusion from such a perspective is that we all are to some degree like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (i.e., we are able to be highly altruistic in some situations but are brutally selfish in others). In the studies presented in this book, we focused on goal framing and mental models as two corresponding mechanisms that allow us to switch our solidary behavior between situations and relationships. Goal framing denotes cognitive processes (such as selective attention or selective activation of knowledge structures) related to the realization of particular goals. A mental model refers to a particular idea actors have of the sort of relationship they are in and the behaviors and expectations that are appropriate within this relationship. For example, in the workplace, members of work teams often have two main goals: Getting the job done and maintaining smooth social relationships with colleagues. However, the outcomes of group work may change radically when workers initially frame the situation primarily in terms of task output, but then switch their attention to social relations, or vice versa. Correspondingly, workers may hold a mental model of their peer relations in terms of “friendship” (putting priority on ties above task) or in terms of “professional colleagues” (where the task prevails). 3

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S. Lindenberg, D. Fetchenhauer, A. Flache, and B. Buunk

To explore the important role that cognitive processes like framing and mental models may play in the explanation of prosocial and solidary behavior, sociologists and psychologists have joined forces in this book, as neither discipline alone is able to cover the whole spectrum of theoretical questions that are involved in such an explanation. This new approach offers new insights into the conditions that make or break solidary behavior and it offers a paradigm for the integration of insights from a number of overlapping generations of research on the topic within sociology, economics, psychology, and evolutionary theory.

Existing Approaches to Prosocial and Solidary Behavior Let us briefly recount these approaches. Within sociology, the question of how and when solidary and prosocial behavior arises or fails to arise has traditionally been the core business of sociologists like Durkheim (1893/1964, 1897/1970) and Parsons (see Parsons and Shils, 1951). Their answers basically focused on processes of socialization in which norms are internalized, and prosocial personalities are formed. The failure of solidarity is then a failure of socialization, personality formation, or both (for recent expressions of this view, see Hoffmann [1983] or Gottfredson and Hirschi [1990]). The answers generated by the socialization approach were an important advance, but they were not quite satisfactory because they failed to explain the influence of changing situations. For example, when many people have to contribute to create a jointly desired outcome, people often free-ride even though they may have been socialized very well (Olson, 1965). In such “social dilemma” (Dawes, 1980) situations in which nonsocial behavior is good for each group member but bad for the group as a whole, it may be better to look at people’s selfinterest rather than at their socialization. This is exactly what happened in the 1970s. The major paradigm for investigating what was then called “cooperative” behavior (in social dilemma situations) leaned heavily on rational choice theory from economics and game theory rather than on socialization theory (e.g., Axelrod, 1984; Coleman, 1990; Hechter, 1987). Rational choice could handle situational aspects very well, especially variations in incentives to act cooperatively. Here, too, considerable advances were made. Yet, a problem with the rational choice approach was that it could not accommodate cooperative behavior in situations in which self-interest was not served by cooperative behavior (Camerer, 2003; Frank, 1988). For these reasons, new developments in evolutionary biology soon seemed relevant to the study of cooperative behavior, especially the idea that some forms of solidary behavior may have become “hardwired” in the course of evolution (Trivers, 1971). The assumption of pure self-interest shifted from

1: Solidarity and Prosocial Behavior

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the individual to the level of the gene, which maximizes inclusive fitness (Dawkins, 1976). The central idea here was that a genetic predisposition toward altruistic behavior can survive and spread in a population as long as this behavior favors reproduction and survival of the organism that bears the gene (Hamilton, 1964). This left the possibility open that the individual was at least partially altruistic “in the service” of the selfish gene. Scholars from all social and behavioral sciences were inspired by evolutionary biology, leading to a considerable growth of insights into all sorts of “prosocial” or solidary behavior, and not just the contribution to collective goods in social dilemma situations (Gintis, 2003). Once again, however, the situational influences on solidary behavior (other than group identity) were pushed into the background. Within social psychology, the field was dominated for a long time by the attempt to identify situational determinants of helping behavior. In addition, social psychologists put much effort into determining whether pure altruism ever exists. Is human behavior ultimately always governed by an egoistic motive system or are humans willing to act altruistically even if they are not rewarded for such behavior? Within this line of research, social psychologists focused not only on material rewards for helping others, but also on internal rewards that might result from prosocial behavior (e.g., the warm glow of being a moral person or the avoidance of feeling guilty). Especially Batson (1991) empathically argued that true altruism really exists and that it is triggered by empathic concern for a person in need. This “empathy altruism hypothesis” was confirmed in many empirical studies and experiments (for an overview, see Batson, 1991; Bierhoff, 2002; but see Cialdini, Brown, Lewis, Luce, & Neuburg, 1997 for a fundamental critique on Batson’s work). Another important line of research is related to the development of prosocial and solidary behavior in children and juveniles. Based on the work of Piaget and Kohlberg, it was investigated how the level of prosocial behavior is related to children’s and adolescents’ sociocognitive development (Eisenberg and Fabes, 1998). It was shown that young children mainly base their moral judgment and moral behavior on the consequences of their behavior for themselves (e.g., if a certain behavior is punished it is judged to be bad). Later, children tend to evaluate adherence to social rules and norms as morally good, without questioning the legitimacy of such rules. Only in late adolescence are people able to base their moral judgment and behavior on abstract ethical rules. All these different approaches focus either on preferences or on constraints (varying incentives). However, developments in cognitive psychology and microsociology show with increasing force that the way a situation is subjectively “framed” or “defined” heavily influences choice and behavior (De Dreu and Boles, 1998; Kahneman and Tversky, 1984). For some time, the potential of these insights for the explanation of

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solidary behavior was not obvious, but it was clearly there. The “situation” does not simply confront the individual who has certain preferences with possibilities and restrictions in choosing according to these preferences. Framing processes are likely to enhance certain preferences and push others into the background. The same happens to constraints. Some are amplified in the individual’s perspective; others are only vaguely perceived. It has long been recognized that there is a subjective element in the way the world is seen. However, the developments in cognitive psychology and microsociology go beyond this basic insight into the importance of the subject. First, goal-framing processes are likely to be influenced by transsituational factors pertaining to the cultural and institutional contexts and to personality traits of the individual (Clark, Mills, and Powell, 1986; Hofstede, 2003; Miller, 1984; Mühlau and Lindenberg, 2003; Van Lange, 1999; Van Lange and Liebrand, 1991). Second, it has been found that cognitive processes are intertwined with motivational processes as a result of the fact that cognitive processes are heavily influenced by goals (Fitzsimons and Bargh, 2003; Gollwitzer and Moskowitz, 1996). Both facts point to complex interactions between cognitive, situational, and transsituational factors, and not merely to a subjective “filter” between the individual and the situation. This opens the door to a fresh look at the question when and under what conditions individuals show solidarity. The question now focuses on the possibility that individuals can have different core motivations for which the goals and preferences, the perceived constraints, and the pieces of memory and knowledge are activated inside the individual cluster in such a way that the principles of behavior seem to be thoroughly different from those associated with other core motivations. This perspective also draws attention to the possibility that incentives may have perverse effects. For example, we know from the research on intrinsic motivation that money as an incentive for the performance of activities may change the core motivation and thereby actually reduce rather than increase the likelihood of the activity being performed (Deci, Koestner, and Ryan 1999; Fabes, Fultz, Eisenberg, MayPlumbee, and Christopher, 1989; Frey and Jegen, 2001). These insights run in part against the traditional view of economists and many rational choice sociologists that an individual’s behavior is mainly governed by one core motive (self-interest) that must be channeled by the proper incentives. It also runs against the traditional sociologist’s view that individuals are governed by one core motive (to conform to norms), which must be channeled by socialization. The Nobel Prize–winning economist Buchanan expressed this new insight, which is consistent with the metaphor of Jekyll and Hyde, very well when he maintained that “the constraints, rules, and institutions within which persons make choices . . . can and do influence the relative importance of the separate motivational elements” (as cited in Mansbridge, 1990, p. 21). Nevertheless, he did not develop a theory to explain how this can happen.


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Another prominent suggestion in this direction has been to introduce multiple selves into the theorizing on economic modeling. Here, the individual is seen as a collection of selves, a person governed by different core motives. Of particular interest is Margolis’s model containing a self with social and a self with egoistic motives (Margolis, 1982). The assumption of such different motives is in line with social psychological research on the self (for an overview, see Oyserman, 2001). But Margolis’s underlying model is one of rational choice to be either social or egoistic. There are some rules that regulate the “efficient” allocation of resources to each of the selves. For example, a “self” with social motives will spend a certain amount of money on helping other people. The more often it has done so in the recent past, the more likely it is that the “self” with selfish motives will come to the fore, and vice versa. This view of multiple selves has the obvious advantage that it seems a literal translation of the Jekyll and Hyde idea. However, this and many other multiple selves models retain a view of rationality (utility maximization with farsightedness) that is independent of core motivations. In these models, core motivations are assumed to be fully represented by sets of preferences. There is no interaction between motivation and the kind of rationality. For example, in Margolis’s model, in order to allocate a “marginal dollar,” an individual has to compare the utility derived from social (i.e., altruistic) preferences to the utility derived from selfish preferences, and he or she spends the money where it gives the highest return in terms of utility. How does the individual do this? Are the criteria for the comparison independent of the situation? Seemingly, for Margolis, the perception of the decision situation is unaffected by the kind of motivation. Years after writing his 1982 book, Margolis observed himself that “I’ve become much more aware of the need to augment the mechanical calculus of rational choice with allowance for how flesh-and-blood cognition and perception actually work” (Margolis, 1990, p. 244). Clearly, psychological theories are relevant here. However, psychological theories of prosocial behavior often deal with multiple motives (or “orientations”) without elaboration of clear mechanisms that link the situational context to core motivations. For example, theories of personality identify relevant traits for prosocial dispositions (such as various subscales of the Big Five; see Matthews and Deary, 1998; van der Zee and Perugini, this volume) but do not tell us much about the influence of the context on prosocial behavior or the influence of the interaction between context, disposition, and prosocial behavior. Similarly, theories of self-categorization deal with differences in motivation on the basis of identity (Hogg, 2001). However, the link between situation and prosocial behavior is not elaborated. The large body of literature on helping behavior (see Bierhoff, 2002; Latané and Nida, 1981; Schwartz and Howard, 1982) shows more concern for the role of the situation (for example, clarity of need, number of bystanders, norms). Nevertheless, it

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is focused on just one kind of solidary behavior and, despite the original emphasis on the situation, has mainly led to the identification of relevant person-related aspects of helping behavior (such as perception of need, taking responsibility, self-efficacy, empathy) (Bierhoff, Klein, and Kramp, 1991). Psychological studies on solidary behavior (such as dualconcern theory) (see Pruitt and Rubin, 1986) point to many important factors, and recent developments in dual process theory (see for example Strack and Deutsch, 2004) make it clear that selfish versus prosocial does not coincide in any way with rational versus emotional. These theories are certainly important for any theory of prosocial behavior, but they generally lack elaboration of integrated motivational-cognitive mechanisms that generate different core motivations. As argued above, without the description of such mechanisms, it is difficult to come to a comprehensive view of the generation of various forms of solidarybehavior in various social contexts. Interest in the description of such mechanisms can be found more frequently among sociologists who are concerned with the microfoundations of social behavior. The crucial question then is, how can it be that the same individual’s behavior can be determined by such different sets of motivations? And, conversely, how can it be that within the same situation different people display different levels of solidary behavior? Clearly, inputs from both psychologists and sociologists are needed to solve these puzzles.

Overview of the Theoretical Framework Used in this Book In the remainder of this chapter we present a general framework for the study of solidarybehavior that leaves room for inputs from psychology and sociology. This framework is not to be seen as a complete theory that fully elaborates the mechanisms through which actors’ personality characteristics and the characteristics of their social, institutional, and cultural contexts shape solidary behavior. We leave this task to the chapters that are presented in the remainder of this book. In Chapter 2, Lindenberg provides a more elaborate version of this framework and of a specific version of a goal-framing theory that explicates the mechanisms through which the situational context shapes the subjective definition of the situation and the individual’s actions. What the chapters of the book have in common is more modest than this elaborate version. It is a shared framework that contains the key elements of the framing approach to solidary behavior, depicted in Figure 1.1. The main elements in this framework are the characteristics of the acting “person,” characteristics of the situation in which the behavior takes place, the ensuing “definition of the situation” from the point of the view of the actor, and, finally, the extent to which the actor shows


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Person • personality • skills • learning history

Definition of the situation Situational context

• framing • mental image of the relationship

Solidary behavior

• social • institutional • cultural

FIGURE 1.1. A General Framework for the Study of Solidary Behavior

solidarity. Below, we discuss the elements of this framework and their relations with each other. First, by solidary behavior, we mean the following kinds of behavior (see Lindenberg, 1998): Cooperation. This refers to a common good situation. Ego and Alter both belong to a group that produces a common good. Ego will contribute to the common good even if an individual can free-ride without negative consequences to him- or herself. Fairness. This refers to a sharing situation. If there are joint divisible benefits and costs, and if Ego is the one who can divide them, he will not seek to maximize his share of the benefits and minimize his share of the costs, but take his “fair share” of both (what the “fair share” is varies, but is mostly situationally fixed by norms). Altruism. This refers to a need situation. Ego will help Alter in times of need (what constitutes need and how much help is minimally expected for solidary behavior varies). Trustworthiness. This refers to abstaining from the temptation to breach implicit or explicit agreements or promises. An actor will refrain from hurting others even at a cost to him- or herself. Considerateness. This refers to the avoidance of an offense and to making up when things go wrong (mishap situation). This kind of solidary behavior involves taking the experiences of one’s interaction partners explicitly into consideration. Acts can turn out to go against the expectations of solidary behavior, even if this was not intended. A person may have been unaware that a certain action was offensive to an interaction partner or may have had a mishap that turned out to go against the other person’s expectations of solidarity. In that case, an actor will show that he or she meant to act differently (or would have acted differently if he or she had been aware of the offensiveness of the actions, or was for other reasons unable to avoid acting in this way), that he or she feels sorry that it turned out that way, and he or she will make amends if the mishap has caused damage to others. Furthermore, if an actor knows in advance that he or

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she will not be able to keep to the agreement, the actor will warn others in advance, so that they can mitigate the damage. We argue that the extent to which an actor shows solidarity is shaped by the actor’s “definition of the situation” (see Lindenberg, this volume). The definition of the situation can be regarded as a motivational-cognitive process that serves three functions. First, it structures and organizes the actor’s subjective perception of the situation; second, it links the actor’s selective perception to motivation (i.e., it is linked to certain overriding goals); and third, it is linked to a mental “model” of the social relationship with the partner in any given interaction. Framing thus governs which aspects of the situation are both cognitively and motivationally prominent. The general framework also includes the idea that solidary behavior takes place (or fails to take place) in the context of a subjectively perceived relationship with its own expectations and identities. For example, an individual’s goal frame could be “to act appropriately” and the cognitive elements that are associated it. The question of what would constitute appropriate behavior in this situation would be answered by the mental model of, say, a friendship relationship and the norms and expectations associated with such a relationship. For the explanation of solidary behavior, it is important to have some indication of what the most important kinds of relationships are. Interestingly, there is quite a bit of agreement between sociology and social psychology regarding the categorization of social relationships into four fundamentally different kinds of relationship: Fiske (1991) distinguishes “communal sharing” (unity, community, undifferentiated identity), “equality matching” (balanced reciprocity among equals), “market pricing” (calculated exchange), and “authority ranking” (hierarchically ordered statuses and differences). Fiske’s four “models” of social relationships are used by many psychologists who study social relationships. A related set of supposedly universal social relationships is often used in sociology. In traditional sociology, Durkheim (1964) distinguished “mechanic” and “organic” solidarity, where mechanic solidarity refers to a high level of largely unreflected solidary behavior that is directed only at in-group members with similar social and cultural characteristics, as in “primitive” societies. Organic solidarity is a more widely cohesive but also weaker form of solidarity where actors are willing to behave solidary even toward socially or culturally dissimilar counterparts. It is the form of solidarity that according to Durkheim is necessary to hold together modern societies with a large degree of social differentiation and diversity. In modern sociology, Lindenberg (1998) aims to ground the distinction of relationships in a behavioral theory based on framing. He distinguishes strong solidarity (with equality as distributional norm, primacy of the


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group over individuals and dyads, and high expected sacrifice for group members in case of need; for example, a fire-fighting team), weak solidarity (with equity as the distributional norm, primacy of individuals, and dyads over the group, and low expected sacrifice for others in case of need; for example, partners in a law firm), opportunistic relationships (relationship in which everyone seeks to maximize his or her own outcome without concern for the other; for example, spot market), and status relationships (in which one defers to the other, at times also called authority relationships; for example, the boss-employee relation). It is important to emphasize that the “mental models of a social relationship” are a part of the subjective perception of a given situation by a certain actor (see Lindenberg, this volume). Therefore, two actors may disagree about the kind of social relationship they are in. For example, Person A may regard Person B merely as a business partner, whereas Person B may perceive her relationship with Person A to be more than this (e.g., a friendship). Furthermore, the categorization of Fiske is only one possible dimension of the “mental model of a social relation.” For example, another dimension may involve the question of whether two interaction partners perceive themselves as “partners” (having a common goal) or as “competitors” (having different goals). Again, this dimension implies a subjective definition by given actors. For example, Person A and Person B may agree that they are friends but still define a common bicycle trip very differently. While Person A may think that they have a common interest (“having a nice day”), Person B may define the situation as a competition (i.e., a bicycle race). Thus, Person A and Person B have very different expectations about the speed of the bicycle trip and whether the faster one should wait for the slower one (another example: a well-known cartoon shows a man and a woman having sex with each other. The man shouts out proudly “I am first”). To summarize, the degree of solidarity of a given actor in a given situation depends on his or her subjective definition of the situation. This subjective definition implies motivational and cognitive aspects (e.g., What are my goals? What do I perceive in the situation? What am I particularly sensitive to?) as well as the mental model of the relationship (e.g., Who am I in relationship to the other? Is the other person my friend, my enemy, or my competitor? What is expected of me? What do I expect from the other?). Neither of these is necessarily tied to conscious awareness. Our framework holds that this subjective definition of a given situation is influenced by both the person and the situation in which the person is acting. This idea is not new. Kurt Lewin (1936) already saw behavior as a function of person and situation. So far, however, it has not been applied systematically to the study of various aspects of different core motivations and their relation to solidary behavior. The term person implies personality traits in a narrow sense, such as extroversion,

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agreeableness, or conscientiousness, as well as the skills and abilities of a certain actor (e.g., medical expertise when trying to help a sick person) or an actor’s learning history (e.g., an employee’s experience with his employer). In order to distinguish more easily between purely situational factors (such as the presence of others in the situation) and more stable social influences across situations (such as institutional and cultural influences), we speak of the “social context” in which these different elements interact. Whereas social psychologists tend to focus on circumstances in the situation, sociologists tend to investigate structural and institutional determinants (e.g., Has an employee a tenured position or not?). On an even more macroscopic level, some chapters of our book also deal with cultural determinants of solidary behavior. Hence, for our book, the two headings of “person” and “social context” serve the function of organizing and structuring the many independent variables that were used by the different authors and were aimed to encourage researchers to take into account both groups of variables.

Overview of the Chapters of this Book We conclude this introduction with a brief overview of the various chapters and how they relate to the general framework of our book. All authors share the aim of explaining solidary behavior through an analysis of the impact of personality characteristics and context conditions on the institutional, social, and cultural levels using cognitive and motivational filters (framing and mental models) on solidary behavior. The authors differ, however, in the emphasis they put on particular elements of our general framework. Part I of the book contains chapters that deal with the micromechanisms of solidarity. Here, a closer look is taken at the mechanisms that shape the microlevel individuals’ definition of the situation and translate this definition into solidary behavior. Each of the subsequent parts of our volume puts the main emphasis on one of the major groups of independent variables in our general framework: personality, social relations, institutional context, and cultural context. Part I on micromechanisms opens with Lindenberg’s discussion of his specific goal-framing theory. He argues that three fundamentally different ways can be distinguished in which people frame social situations, corresponding to the hedonic motive “to feel better right now,” the more long-term goal “to improve one’s resources,” or the normative motive “to act appropriately.” Lindenberg proposes a theory of the mechanisms that drive frame selection, frame change, and decision making within frames. He elaborates how, according to his theory, each of the “master frames” may lead actors to behave solidarily, but for different reasons and under different conditions.


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In Chapter 3, Flache and Macy compare Lindenberg’s approach theoretically to another general behavioral theory, reinforcement learning theory. They use game theoretical modeling and computer simulations to identify the conditions under which learning mechanisms may lead to long-term solidary behavior in certain simple social exchange situations. Basically, they find that the two theories generate consistent predictions for a large range of situations. But they also point to two differences. First, goal-framing theory argues that actors’ aspirations for the outcomes of an exchange may be shaped by their perception of the situation and of the partner. In reinforcement learning theory, these aspirations are initially arbitrary and develop in the course of the interaction. Second, learning theory may be less pessimistic about the chances of relationships recovering after periods of a mutual lack of solidarity. In Chapter 4, Fetchenhauer and Dunning focus on an aspect of mental models that was only implicitly addressed in the preceding chapters. The authors investigated how actors estimate other people’s solidary behavior. Clearly, expectations about others’ solidarity shape decisively how we define the relationships we are in and, accordingly, our solidary behavior. Fetchenhauer and Dunning report on experimental research showing that most people expect others to show less solidary than they do. The authors review a number of different theoretical explanations for this “holier than thou” effect and discuss how future research can give new insight into which of these different explanations is best able to account for this effect. Part II of the book focuses on the effects of personality characteristics on solidary behavior. In Chapter 5 van der Zee and Perugini review studies of a range of personality characteristics that have been distinguished in personality psychology. The authors show that the influence of personality on prosocial behavior is likely to run via goalframing processes and via mental models. The three master frames distinguished by Lindenberg (Chapter 2) seem to be particularly useful in tracing these links. In interaction with situational factors, personality traits make it more likely that a goal frame will come up in a particular situation (thereby influencing prosocial behavior), and other traits are likely to influence the mental models within goal frames. Goalframing processes can thus also explain why stable personality traits do not necessarily lead to trait-consistent behavior across situations. In Chapter 6, Veenstra combines effects of personality variables on solidary behavior with effects of the psychosocial environment. He applies this perspective to solidary behavior of adolescents, putting particular emphasis on the distinction between prosocial and antisocial behavior of adolescents, which, he argues, cannot simply be treated as two sides of the same coin. Based on the book’s general framework, the author proposes a heuristic to investigate the relationship between individual and psychosocial characteristics, on the one hand, and different

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configurations of prosocial and antisocial behavior, on the other hand. In a nutshell, he argues that both prosocial and antisocial behaviors can be seen as strategies through which adolescents aim to achieve various forms of well-being, such as excitement (stimulation), material goods (comfort), and status. In this perspective, personality traits such as self-control or aggressiveness develop in early childhood in interaction with the home situation. These traits then operate as resources or liabilities that shape adolescents’ frames and mental models of their relationships with peers, and thus affect whether adolescents perceive that they obtain their goals optimally using prosocial or antisocial strategies, or a combination of both. Part III of the book shifts the focus to the social context, in particular to how the content and networks of social relations shape solidary behavior between those actors who are embedded in the relations. In Chapter 7 Buunk and Dijkstra treat infidelity in intimate relationships as a particular form of unsolidary behavior. They argue that the mental model of an intimate relationship is specific and different from that of other relationships. In this mental model, fidelity is viewed as a crucial form of solidary behavior. The authors argue that the emotional importance of fidelity results from pressures toward optimal reproduction strategies in human evolutionary history. They show, on the basis of previous research, that the level of fidelity in intimate relationships may be explained as the outcome of an exchange process in which the partners develop and co-ordinate their commitment, mutual expectations, and relationship-specific norms over time. In this process, certain frames become or fail to become stabilized by both dispositional factors (e.g., self-esteem and emotional stability) and situational conditions (e.g., “opportunity”) of the partners. In Chapter 8, van der Vegt and Flache likewise address effects of social relations on solidary behavior, but in the different context of work teams. They focus on two aspects of social relations in the workplace that are becoming increasingly prominent in modern organizations: High interdependence among organizational members and diversity of work teams in terms of ethnical background, gender, age, skills, and abilities. The authors review recent research that showed how solidarity thrives mainly in teams with a proper match between interdependencies at the level of work tasks and interdependencies at the level of joint outcomes (e.g., group rewards). Diversity may promote solidarity when this match exists, but it can be disruptive when it does not. Van der Vegt and Flache show that these findings can be theoretically integrated on the basis of Lindenberg’s framing approach. Broadly, they argue that interdependence in outcomes leads workers to frame their situation in terms of solidarity with the group, but this frame can only be sustained when it is backed by factual task interdependencies. Workers may see diversity as an opportunity for productive exchange when the


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solidarity frame dominates, but diversity may impose counterproductive boundaries between group members when there is little attention to the group goal. Part IV of the book emphasizes effects of the institutional context. The chapters in this part address solidary behavior in organizations. In Chapter 9 Sanders, Flache, van der Vegt, and Van de Vliert consider three partially overlapping forms of employees’ embeddedness in organizations: Institutional embeddedness refers to formal rules, such as promotion schemes or payment systems; network embeddedness pertains to the pattern of informal social relations between employees; temporal embeddedness is the duration and expected time horizon of the employment relationship. In line with the recent trend in the organizational literature, the authors focus on solidary behavior of employees with regard to the organization. They compare and contrast the theoretical views of principal-agent theory, a prominent approach in organizational economics drawing on orthodox rational choice theory, with the perspective of goal-framing theory on the effects of embeddedness on employee solidarity. The authors review a range of previous empirical studies on the effects of the three forms of embeddedness and evaluate the predictions of both theories in the light of the empirical evidence. Broadly speaking, Sanders and her co-authors argue that much of the evidence related to organizational solidarity is consistent with both approaches, but they also point to some phenomena that contradict the principal-agent perspective. They show how, in these cases, it seems possible to resolve the contradiction with the view of goal-framing theory that formal and informal rules imposed by the management shape how employees perceive their relationship with the employer, which, in turn, strongly affects the extent to which employees are willing to act in solidarity within the firm. In Chapter 10, a similar theoretical perspective is taken by Karr and Meijs, in which they study solidarity in voluntary organizations. They examine what creates sustained motivation to volunteer in a particular organization. Making use of Lindenberg’s application of goal-framing theory, they distinguish between extrinsic motivation and two forms of intrinsic motivation. The authors then relate these forms of motivation to particular management strategies of voluntary organizations (membership management and program management). The core idea is that voluntary organizations appeal to all three kinds of motivation, but they do so with different emphasis and thus with different conditions for the sustainability of motivation. Organizations that apply membership management aim to elicit commitment mainly by focusing on the volunteers’ enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation. For example, such organizations might stress the “fun” and social contacts that arise from the volunteer activity. By contrast, program management emphasizes the task of the volunteer and thus stresses obligation-based intrinsic

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motivation as well as extrinsic motivation (such as gaining experience useful for one’s career). These differences appeal to different kinds of volunteers and thus are likely to lead to different recruitment strategies. Part V of the book concentrates on effects of the cultural context on solidarity. In Chapter 11 van der Zee investigates the conditions under which cultural minorities may act in solidarity toward institutions of the larger society. She focuses on the question of which mental models of relationships are activated if people are in a normative frame. This depends, she contends, mainly on the kind of identity that is salient in a given situation. It is argued that immigrants’ perception of their relationship with the society in which they live may be shaped by the extent to which they are integrated into relevant social groups (e.g., work teams, school classes) that extend the borders of the cultural minority. This integration, van der Zee contends, may reduce the weight that people attach to normative obligations of the minority culture and may increase attention for the normative demands of the larger society. Drawing on social identity theory, van der Zee proposes a number of intervention strategies aimed to strengthen identification with social groups that cross the minority boundaries. In Chapter 12, Fetchenhauer and Wittek turn to differences in solidarity between countries. They use international survey data to measure and compare levels of fair share behavior (e.g., paying taxes) in various countries. The authors first show that their measure of fair share behavior at the country level is clearly related to the economic performance, level of trust, and crime rate of a country. They proceed to explain differences in fair share behavior. They found that there is less fair share behavior in countries whose cultures emphasize authoritarian educational goals, notably countries with a Catholic confessional history and low levels of political democratization. In terms of our general framework, the results of the study by Fetchenhauer and Wittek suggest that in such countries people perceive their relationship with society as a whole as an authority relationship. Accordingly, the normative obligation to show solidarity toward society as a whole may in these countries only be followed when sufficient control and sanctions are in place. Conversely, in countries with a more liberal culture, people, in their relationship with society, may attach a stronger weight to the goal to act appropriately and, therefore, to not harming the interests of the government and other citizens. In the Chapter 13 (the final study of effects of culture), crossnational differences in solidarity, especially regarding strong and weak solidarity (which are based on different goal frames, see Lindenberg, 1998), are examined. Van de Vliert and Lindenberg argue that, when means are scarce, extreme climates generate a high demand for cooperation in coping with climatic challenges and are thus likely to foster strong solidarity in a small group and opportunistic relationships


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across groups. The richer countries with extreme climates become, the more likely that strong solidarity will give way to weak solidarity (and thus a shift in goal framing). Empirical studies support this view. In the last chapter of this book, Bierhoff and Fetchenhauer discuss how the goal-framing theory used in the studies presented in this book relates to a number of other metatheoretical paradigms that have been developed within different social sciences. They start by discussing the relationship of Lindenberg’s goal-framing theory with the selfishness assumption of neoclassical economics, normative game theory, and classical rational choice theory. They then relate the goal-framing approach to functionalistic sociology, to Freud’s psychoanalytic theory, to personality psychology, and to social psychological theories of prosocial and solidary behavior. Lastly, they compare the assumption of Lindenberg’s theory with explanations of altruistic behavior that have been developed within evolutionary biology and evolutionary psychology. By comparing the framing approach with other metatheoretical paradigms, Bierhoff and Fetchenhauer emphasize the integrative potential of this approach, but also point to areas in which the theory needs further elaboration.

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Eisenberg, N., and Fabes, R.A. (1998). Prosocial development. In W. Damon and N. Eisenberg (Eds.), Handbook of child psychology. Volume 3. Social, emotional, and personality development (pp. 701–778). New York: John Wiley and Sons. Fabes, R.A., Fultz, J., Eisenberg, N., May-Plumbee, T., and Christopher, F.S. (1989). Effects of rewards on children’s prosocial motivation: A socialization study. Developmental Psychology, 25, 509–515. Fiske, A.P. (1991). Structures of social life: The four elementary forms of human relations. New York: Free Press/Macmillan. Fitzsimons, G.M., and Bargh, J.A. (2003). Thinking of you: Nonconscious pursuit of interpersonal goals associated with relationship partners. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 84, 148–164. Frank, R.H. (1988). Passions within reason: The strategic role of the emotions. New York: Norton. Frey, B.S., and Jegen, R. (2001). Motivational interactions: Effects on behavior. Annales d’Economie et de Statistique, 63/64, 131–153. Gintis, H. (2003). Solving the puzzle of prosociality. Rationality and Society, 15, 155–187. Gollwitzer, P.M., and Moskowitz, G.B. (1996). Goal effects on action and cognition. In E.T. Higgins and A.W. Kruglanski (Eds.), Social psychology: Handbook of basic principles (pp. 361–399). London: Guilford Press. Gottfredson, M.R., and Hirschi, T. (1990). A general theory of crime. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press. Hamilton, W.D. (1964). The genetical evolution of social behavior. Journal of Theoretical Biology, 7, 1–52. Hechter, M. (1987). Principles of group solidarity. Berkeley: University of California Press. Hoffmann, M.L. (1983). Affective and cognitive processes in moral internalization. In E.T. Higgins, D. Ruble, and W. Hartup (Eds.), Social cognition and social development: A sociocultural perspective (pp. 236–274). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hofstede, G. (2003). Culture’s consequences (2nd ed.). London: Sage Publications. Hogg, M. (2001). Self-categorization and subjective uncertainty resolution: Cognitive and motivational facets of social identity and group membership. In J.P. Forgas, K.D. Williams, and L. Wheeler (Eds.), The social mind. Cognitive and motivational aspects of interpersonal behavior (pp. 323–349). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kahneman, D., and Tversky, A. (1984). Choices, values, and frames. American Psychologist, 39(4), 341–350. Latané, B., and Nida, S. (1981). Ten years of research on group size and helping. Psychological Bulletin, 89, 308–324. Lewin, K. (1936). Principles of topological psychology. New York: McGraw Hill. Lindenberg, S.M. (1998). Solidarity: Its microfoundations and macro-dependence. A framing approach. In P. Doreian and T.J. Fararo (Eds.), The problem of solidarity: Theories and models (pp. 61–112). Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach. Mansbridge, J.J. (1990). The rise and fall of self-interest in the explanation of political life. In J.J. Mansbridge (Ed.), Beyond self-interest (pp. 3–22). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Margolis, H. (1982). Selfishness, altruism, and rationality: A theory of social choice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Margolis, H. (1990). Dual utilities and rational choice. In J.J. Mansbridge (Ed.), Beyond self-interest (pp. 239–253). Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Matthews, G., and Deary, I.J. (1998). Personality traits. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Miller, J.G. (1984). Culture and the development of everyday social explanation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 46, 961–978. Mühlau, P., and Lindenberg, S.M. (2003). Efficiency wages: Signals or incentives? An empirical study of the relationship between wage and commitment. Journal of Management and Governance, 7, 385–400. Olson, M. (1965). The logic of collective action. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.


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Oyserman, D. (2001). Self and identity. In A. Tesser and N. Schwarz (Eds.), Blackwell handbook of social psychology (pp. 499–517). Malden, Mass.: Blackwell Publishers. Parsons, T., and Shils, E. (1951). Values, motives and systems of action. In T. Parsons and E. Shils (Eds.), Toward a general theory of action (pp. 47–275). Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Pruitt, D.G., and Rubin, J.Z. (1986). Social conflict: Escalation, stalemate, and settlement. New York: Random House. Schwartz, S.H., and Howard, J.A. (1982). Helping and cooperation: A self-based motivational model. In V.J. Derlega and J. Grzelak (Eds.), Cooperation and helping behavior (pp. 327–353). New York: Academic Press. Strack, F., and Deutsch, R. (2004). Reflective and impulsive determinants of social behavior. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 8, 220–247. Trivers, R.L. (1971). The evolution of reciprocal altruism. Quarterly Review of Biology, 46, 35–57. Van Lange, P.A.M. (1999). The pursuit of joint outcomes and equality in outcomes: An integrative model of social value orientation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 77(2), 337–349. Van Lange, P.A.M., and Liebrand, W.B.G. (1991). The influence of other’s morality and own social value orientation on cooperation in the Netherlands and the USA. International Journal of Psychology, 26, 429–449.

CHAPTER 2

Prosocial Behavior, Solidarity, and Framing Processes Siegwart Lindenberg

There is no shortage of theories of prosocial behavior. Sociology, psychology, and economics are blessed with many such theories. When one looks at all three fields, one is struck by confusion. How do the various theories add up? Do they rival each other? Do they complement each other? Are they simply incompatible? Can one simply ignore some of them? These questions are not easy to answer because variables in these theories are often different, at least in name. For example, the dependent variable is given many names and it is not immediately obvious what the differences, if any, are. The terms prosocial behavior and helping behavior are most often used in psychology. In sociology, the term solidarity or solidary behavior is most often used; and in economics we find the terms cooperation and cooperative behavior. At times, the term altruism is used in all three fields. Do all these terms refer to the same thing? The independent variables are even more diverse and difficult to compare. Thus, there is a discount factor in “super games,” there are value orientations, we have prosocial personality traits, we have internalized norms, culturally induced trust, and institutionalized solidarity. What are we to make of this multitude of concepts? One way to go about answering these questions is to develop a classification of the kinds of prosocial behavior that gives place to the various psychological, sociological, and economic theories. Order can be created in this way because of the identification of possible dimensions of prosocial behavior (for example, along the lines of extrinsic versus intrinsic motives, or of personal or social norms). The disadvantage of this approach is that it does not provide the theory that would allow us to judge the importance of dimensions or the interrelation between dimensions. For example, why is it important to distinguish between extrinsic and intrinsic motivation for prosocial behavior? Can intrinsic motivation be stabilized by extrinsic rewards or is it crowded out (see Frey and Jegen, 2001)? In order to deal with such questions, it is necessary to take a closer look at the mechanisms that generate various forms of prosocial behavior. 23

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Siegwart Lindenberg

It is my aim here to uncover some of these mechanisms, using theory that was developed earlier (see Lindenberg, 1998, 2001a, 2003). I will argue that the particular form of prosocial behavior (say, cooperation, altruism, or both; see below) and its relationship to motives depends on the combination of a “frame” and a particular mental model of the relationship. I will use the term prosocial behavior, as this is the most general term for behavior assumed to be intentionally beneficial to others (not necessarily without self-interest) and involving some sacrifice. Other concepts, such as solidary behavior, cooperation, and so forth were defined or explicated on this basis. It is not long ago that a perceptive observer stated that “the trend in recent research is toward explaining self-interested sources of cooperation” (Yamagishi, 1995, p. 315). Surely, much research of this sort is still being conducted. However, owing to the results of this research, and aided by developments in evolutionary psychology, the cutting edge has moved on to the question of when and how the same individual is governed by very different sets of motives, and under what conditions these different sets of motives lead to prosocial behavior. At the very least, then, one would expect a description of mechanisms of prosocial behavior to account for the observation that (at least at present) makes research into prosocial behavior interesting in the first place. One reason is that prosocial behavior varies situationally within the same individual. Even though personality traits and value orientations make a person disposed to act more or less prosocially, situational factors can override even stable dispositions or interact with stable dispositions (see Ligthart, 1995). What is more, it is not merely behavior that varies situationally for the same person; the core motivations to act vary situationally within the same individual (see for example Ross and Nisbett, 1991; Smeesters, Warlop, Van Avermaet, Corneille, and Yzerbyt, 2003; Van Lange, 2000). In fact, a theory of prosocial behavior would have to account for the possibility that each of us is to some degree a Jekyll and Hyde. How is it possible that the same individual’s behavior can be determined by such different sets of motivations, and how can the particular situation in which the individual is placed play such an important role in bringing out either Jekyll or Hyde? The answer to this question should be a theory of action rather than a list of motives. Important strides have been made in the literature in this direction. As some of these are discussed in Chapter 1 in this book and in Lindenberg (1998), I will not go into a review of the literature here. Suffice it to say that none of the existing approaches are quite satisfactory with regard to the situational influence. The approach taken here was made possible by an advance in psychology in which processes of cognition and processes of motivation were linked (see Gollwitzer and Bargh, 1996). The core idea in this research was that cognitions are strongly affected by goals (see Kruglanski, 1996) and that thus

2: Prosocial Behavior, Solidarity, and Framing Processes

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reflective and emotional processes strongly interact in bringing about social behavior of any kind (see Strack and Deutsch, 2004). I will briefly summarize the major building blocks of the theory of prosocial behavior that can be erected on the basis of this research.

Building Blocks of the Theory The building blocks of the theory are based on the following guiding ideas: In any action situation, the individual’s attention is selective, which implies that certain aspects of the situation are pushed into the foreground and others into the background, and the individual becomes more sensitive to changes in certain situational clues, less sensitive to others. At the same time, certain concepts become highly accessible, others are inhibited; certain emotions are aroused; and so forth. These cognitive processes are linked to motivation by the fact that they are largely governed by overriding goals. Goals together with the cognitive processes they engender are here called “frames.” For example, the goal to make a profit in a particular situation steers the cognition of this situation by making certain features (the opportunities to make a profit) more salient and making other features (for example, concern for the well-being of the other) less salient, making the individual particularly sensitive to changes in the opportunities to make a profit and by activating certain concepts that belong to making a profit. There are a few overriding frames that need to be identified. Behavior toward others is generally guided by a mental model of a particular relationship with the other. This mental model is part of the framing process but can be the result of prior cognitive processes that were set in motion by an overriding goal. For example, if the overriding goal is to act appropriately, the mental model must answer the question: What is appropriate in this situation? It thus provides specific information relevant to the goal pursuit in social situations. For example, it contains information on the expectations the other is likely to have in such a relationship. There are a small number of basic social relationships (with their mental models) and they need to be identified as well. The particular form of prosocial behavior (say, cooperation or altruism, or both; see below) and its relationship to motives depend on the combination of the frame and the mental model of the relationship. For example, in a fundraising gathering at a local school, people frame the situation, say, as “instrumental” in the sense that the gathering is seen as a means for reaching a common goal (that the school can build a special room for pupils to get together socially). The perceived relationship between the people gathered there is, for example, one of “people who share a common interest.” Everyone throws money into a basket that is passed around several times during

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the evening (each time presumably for a different part of the room to be built). The combination of “instrumental frame” and “common goal relationship” makes it likely that giving is seen as an act of cooperation. Watchful eyes follow the basket and what people put in it. Everyone is likely to give what he or she thinks the others are giving. Contrast this with a slightly different situation in which the people gathered are told that the school needs a room for the social activities of pupils and that all present are asked, according to their ability, to help the school build such a room. As a sign of gratitude to each “helper,” a roster of contributions will be made public. Now the situation is framed as “helping” and the relationship among those gathered is still one of people with a common interest, but it has been changed by the emphasis on differences in ability to help the school. Rich people are now expected to give more than poor (and this difference shows up in the public roster of contributions). The change in the relationship is also likely to add status considerations to the motive to help a good cause. But notice that this combination of helping and status considerations is specific to the situation (helping the school). Even genetically generous people are unlikely in this situation to slip money to poorer people to enable them to give more and thus show up better in the public roster. The most important factors influencing cognitive processes are goals, and what influences goals and mental models in a given action situation are: (a) elements of the social context, such as social aspects (such as interdependencies, status differences), institutional elements (such as legal restrictions and norms), cultural elements (such as religious belief systems, the general level of trust in strangers); and (b) relatively stable traits and skills of the person. A sketch of the combination of these building blocks can be seen in Figure 2.1.

Person Personality traits skills learning history Social context social institutional cultural

Goals

Cognitive processes and Mental model of social relationship

Prosocial behavior

FRAMING

FIGURE 2.1. Determinants of Prosocial Behavior From a Framing Perspective


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Kinds of Prosocial Behavior and Kinds of Relationships Below I will elaborate and combine these various building blocks. I will start at the dependent variable (prosocial behavior) and work backward. Being task or outcome interdependent, or both (i.e., having functional interdependencies or, more generally, joint production) is likely to lead to the development of relationships that require prosocial behavior (see Lindenberg, 1997). There are at least five kinds of prosocial behavior (see Lindenberg, 1998). They have been described in Chapter 1 and are only listed here: cooperation, fairness, altruism, trustworthiness (i.e., refraining from breaking promises), and being considerate. They all refer to behavior that benefits others but is, at least at the moment it is performed, socially accepted as entailing some form of sacrifice. Thus, for example, a situation in which a person exchanges a thing with another person to their mutual benefit is excluded, except in cases where time renders the benefit to one conditional on the other’s keeping a promise. In Chapter 1 various relationships were distinguished and it was argued that prosocial behavior is embedded in social relationships. Different relationships require different combinations of kinds of prosocial behavior. Solidarity relationships are likely to involve all five kinds of prosocial behavior. Strong solidarity relationships (such as close friendships) involve much higher expected sacrifices than weak solidarity relationships (such as a relationship between neighbors), and the two also differ in distributional norms (equality versus equity). But failure to behave prosocially in all five kinds of sacrifice situations (if and when they occur) is likely to be interpreted as a lack of solidarity in both strong and weak solidarity relationships. An opportunistic relationship does not involve any prosocial behavior. A status relationship is asymmetric, which means that it may involve different forms of prosocial behavior acting “down” and acting “up,” for example, trustworthiness and being considerate from below and a modicum of altruism from above. Authority relationships can vary a great deal in this respect and it might be useful to use the prosocial expectations in order to distinguish them. For example, in Western societies, authority relationships seem to have the tendency to become symmetrical with regard to the prosocial behavior that is expected from the person below and the one above. This, in turn, is likely to give rise to considerable changes in the way employment relations are governed and to make fairness a central element in authority relations (see Lindenberg, 1993; Mühlau and Lindenberg, 2003; Wittek, 1999). There are probably relationships that hover between opportunism and weak solidarity simply because they are specific and unlikely to last long enough to cover more situations and develop into a solidarity or authority relation. Nevertheless, for the specific situation, there may be too much interdependence for sheer

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opportunism. The example given above of fund raising in a school is such a case. Here, people are gathered for a specific common purpose that requires cooperation to reach the common goal, nothing more, nothing less. Other situations may create relations that focus on fairness or showing trustworthiness (by abstaining from breach temptation). In any case, it seems useful for the researcher to determine for any particular kind of explanatory problem what relations are likely to prevail in these situations and what forms of prosocial behavior are likely to “belong” to these relations. Before relations influence behavior, they must be cognitively represented in the actors involved. As argued above, this cognitive representation can be analyzed in term of mental models.

Mental Models of Relationships What Is a Mental Model of a Relationship? The most basic connotation of “mental model” is some kind of mental representation that guides reasoning and action. One of the major functions of mental models is to allow the individual to answer questions about relevant aspects in his or her physical and social world, be these aspects simple objects, like chairs, or complex processes like the political system of the United States. A subcategory of mental models is prototypes. They capture the exemplary version of the phenomenon and can, therefore, be used to answer questions about it. For example, the prototype of a relationship can be used to answer the question “If this is a friendship relationship, what should I do?” Such a prototype may be taken to consist of five minimal elements: (1) there is a set of rules about one’s own and the other’s behavior; (2) there are expectations about the other’s behavior based on these rules; (3) there are the other’s surmised expectations; (4) there are normative expectations about one’s own behavior; and (5) there is co-orientation about the expectations (Scheff, 1967), meaning that each partner in a relationship assumes that the other uses the same mental model. For example, the mental model of a friendship relationship could look like this: Rules of friendship (or rule heuristics): “Friends are equals; friends don’t do anything that would increase the social difference between them” (this also implies fairness); “Friends don’t harm each other” (this also implies trustworthiness and being considerate); “Friends help each other in need.” Expectation about other’s behavior: “The other is my friend and thus he will behave according to the rules of friendship.” Expectations from the other: “The other is my friend and he expects me to act according to the rules of friendship.” Normative expectations about own behavior: “I am his friend and I ought to behave according to the rules


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of friendship.” Co-orientation: “The other is my friend and therefore uses the same rules and expectations I do.” The mental model of a relationship is thus more than just a social norm about how to behave. Some authors speak of “relational schemas” (see, for example, Baldwin, 1992) to indicate expectations of interactive sequences; other authors speak of “heuristics” (see, for example, De Dreu and Boles, 1998; Simon, 1957) to indicate maxims that should be followed in a relationship (such as “Be fair” or “Your gain is my loss”). The prototype of a relationship includes such schemas and heuristics but also other kinds of information. It minimally also includes descriptive and normative expectations and co-orientation. A person is said to create or learn mental models of virtually all relevant aspects of his or her physical and social world, including social relationships.

Mental Models and Frames How does a mental model relate to behavior? As we will see, in order to relate mental models to behavior, more cognitive aspects have to be considered than are normally considered in the social sciences. People do not simply “conform” to the normative expectations contained in a mental model of a relationship. There must be a link to the goal pursuit of the individual, to the aspects to which the individual pays attention, to memories that are activated, and so forth. Goals and cognitive processes are linked, and this insight may be one of the most important advances in cognitive and motivational psychology in the past 20 years. For example, if a person is determined to make a profit in a particular interaction (the goal), he or she will “frame” the situation in such a way that the elements that are relevant for making a profit become salient as well. How does it work? Because framing is so central to the argument presented here, I will go into it in some detail.

A Theory of Goal-Framing Basic Mechanisms The basic mechanism of the motivational-cognitive aspects of behavior (and a fortiori also prosocial behavior) consists of a number of interrelated processes. First, people’s perception of a situation is selective. People focus on some aspects and not on others. Which aspects they focus on depends mainly on the major goal they are pursuing at this moment. For example, if a person buys a rare second-hand book that she wants to read, she focuses on aspects that have to do with reading the book, such as the attractiveness of its cover and layout,

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how thick it is, how lucky she is to have found it now that she is going on vacation and has time to read, and so forth. If a person buys the same book as a book salesman with the aim of selling it, he focuses on other aspects, such as the likely demand for the book, its physical condition as this may affect demand, the possible profit given its present price, and so forth. Second, whereas selective attention almost seems trivial, it is not trivial in its consequences. To focus on certain aspects also means that other aspects are cognitively pushed into the background. This is more than a metaphor. What happens is that certain chunks of stored knowledge, certain categories and attitudes, become more easily accessible and thereby influence the person’s information processing (see Higgins and Brendl, 1995). At the same time, aspects that have been pushed into the background may be inhibited, thus creating a double selective effect (see Bodenhousen and Macrae, 1998; Houghton and Tipper, 1996). When we say that a person has a certain frame, therefore, we mean more than just selective attention. We also mean that, compared to a person with another frame, this person’s cognitive processes are guided by a goal so that the person thinks of certain things more readily, is more sensitive to certain kinds of information, perceives certain alternatives more readily than others, and assigns different weights to certain aspects. For example, when the person who bought the secondhand book in order to read it leaves the bookshop and is asked to sell it right then and there for 50% more than she paid just a minute ago, she will in all likelihood decline. Using the book to make profit is not an alien idea to her, but, at that moment, this idea is pushed into the background and is thus cognitively not readily available. By contrast, the bookseller who bought the book in order to sell it again will quickly consider this a good deal and sell it or ask for a higher price (see Braspenning, 1992, for experimental evidence). They thus react very differently to seemingly the same opportunity. Third, goals are part of the frame, especially goals that draw on particular patterns of attitudes, expectations, and behavioral repertoires (see Gollwitzer and Moskowitz, 1996; Kruglanski, 1996). In the literature, we find mainly three groups of goals that have been studied with regard to their effect on cognitive processes (see also Dunning, 2001). For one, there are approach/avoidance-related goals, such as gain- and loss-related goals (Kahneman and Tversky, 1984); selfenhancement and self-defense (Baumeister, 1996; Tesser, 1988). Then, there are goals concerning reflective versus intuitive processing, such as deliberative versus implemental goals (Gollwitzer and Bayer, 1999), accuracy goals (Stapel, Koomen, and Zeelenberg, 1998), epistemic goals (Ford and Kruglanski, 1995), and performance versus learning goals (Grant and Dweck, 2003). Finally, there are goals about selfconcern and other-concern, such as the goal to act cooperatively and


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the goal to act competitively. For the topic of prosocial behavior, the latter is the most relevant. For example, the goal to act cooperatively and the goal to act competitively activate very different patterns of attitudes, expectations, and behavioral repertoires (see Carnevale and Lawler, 1986; De Dreu and Boles, 1998; Stapel and Koomen, 2005). However, as we will see, a dimension related to the reflective/intuitive distinction is also very important for the treatment of prosocial behavior: short-term versus long(er)-term orientation. Behaving prosocially because it feels good right now will draw on different attitudes, expectations, and aspects of the situation than behaving prosocially because that may pay off in the future. In all cases, it is goals that, via frames, link the individual to a situation and give it a particular meaning. The fact that goals heavily influence cognitive processes links motivation and cognition. Goals can thus not be represented as ordered preferences (as is done in the literature on multiple selves), since goals influence the situationally activated preferences, expectations, and selection from the behavioral repertoire. Fourth, in every situation, there are goals that are pushed into the background by the overriding goal that dominates the framing process. For example, when the overriding goal is to act cooperatively, the goals that have to do with guarding one’s resources, such as money, are pushed into the background. We simply do not pay close attention to cost aspects when the overriding goal is to act cooperatively. Even though the goals in the background are inhibited (see Houghton and Tipper, 1996), this does not mean that they lose all influence on behavior. Their influence has become indirect and therefore much weaker than it would have been if the goal had been in the foreground. For example, in a supermarket, the overriding goal might be “to be a smart consumer” (such a consumer compares prices and is alert to special offers). In such a situation, small differences in price can have a large effect on behavior. By contrast, when the overriding goal is to act cooperatively, the differences in costs play a much smaller role. But even though relative price effects emanating from the background goals are “muffled,” they are still there and they increase as the costs of acting cooperatively increase. This explicit attention to the cognitive aspects distinguishes this theory from other multiple goal or dual concern theories (see Chapter 1) and it is especially the role of the background goals that is an important distinguishing feature of this framing approach compared to other framing-like approaches, be they related to the idea of gain and loss perception (e.g., Kahneman and Tversky, 1984), to the mobilization of scripts and schemas (e.g., Abelson, 1981), or to the idea of goal priming (Shah and Kruglanski, 2003). The following sections deal with how this interaction between background and foreground goals in the process of framing works.

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Interaction Between Background and Foreground Goals The influence of background goals on choice exerts itself in two ways: (a) background goals influence the ordering of alternatives, and (b) background goals influence the strength of the frame. Let us take these in order. When the overriding goal is to act cooperatively and attention to monetary costs is the most important goal in the background, then the behavioral alternatives perceived will be ordered from the most cooperative to the least cooperative. There are, however, many ways in which one may be less than fully cooperative. The background goal (in our example “to guard one’s monetary resources”) shows up in the way in which alternatives are set up: “less cooperative” must go together with “cheaper.” There is no use in choosing less cooperative alternatives that are even more expensive than the most cooperative one if the background goal is to guard one’s monetary resources. The difference can be seen immediately if one imagines that the most important goal in the background was “to damage the other as a competitor.” In that case, the alternatives in the cooperative frame would still decrease in cooperativeness but they would not necessarily get cheaper. Rather, they would become more damaging for the other as a competitor. The other way in which background goals influence choice is via the strength of the frame. Think of the strength of the frame in terms of the strength with which the overriding goal determines choice. Choice is here conceived of as a distribution of choice probabilities over the alternatives (see Lindenberg, 1988; Steglich, 2003). The stronger the frame, the higher the chances of the “best” alternative being chosen (i.e., the more skewed the distribution in favor of the “best” alternative). As the strength of the frame decreases, the individual still defines the situation in terms of the overriding goal, but the choice probabilities shift toward a more equal distribution. In this way, the chances of the second- and third-best alternatives being selected increase. This implies that the weaker the strength of the frame, the more the choice reflects the strongest background goal. Take our example again. As the cost of being cooperative increases, the chances of an alternative being chosen that is less than fully cooperative but cheaper increase. Note that there is no adding or subtracting of utilities involved. Thus, there is no need for a “numeraire” (i.e., no measure in which both the overriding goal and the strongest background goal can be expressed) and no shadow pricing has to be assumed. The effect is solely produced by the relative weight of the foreground and background goals. When a background goal becomes so strong that all alternatives tend to become equally (un)attractive, the frame is likely to switch, so that the strongest background goal becomes the new frame and the previously dominant goal merges into the background. For example, when being cooperative becomes increasingly incompatible with the


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background goal “to guard one’s (financial) resources,” then it is likely that the goal “to guard one’s recourses” becomes the new dominant goal and “to be cooperative” is pushed into the background, with all the cognitive consequences of such a shift, such as a change in the aspects that are considered, the accessibility of memory and knowledge chunks, the ordering of alternatives, and so forth (see Steglich, 2003 for empirical evidence). Goals in the background can also increase the strength of the frame. For example, the goal to guard one’s social capital is likely to increase the overriding goal in our example (“to act cooperatively”) because it is compatible with its realization. However, unlike the strongest incompatible goal in the background, compatible goals in the background do not influence the ordering of alternatives. Rather, by increasing the strength of the frame, they increase the likelihood of the alternative that is “best” in terms of the frame being chosen. In the extreme case of very high frame strength, the choice of the “best” alternative is so certain that, subjectively, there is no “choice”: There is only one course of action and that can easily become a habit in which case activation of the goal directly also activates a particular kind of action (see Aarts and Dijksterhuis, 2000). For example, when going to work, people may not think about whether to take the car or the train (even though the train would be the second-best alternative), but take for granted that the car is the way to go to work. But this can also occur without habituation. For example, when confronted with extreme alternatives (say, “your money or your life”), people may perceive the situation as “having no choice.” This mechanism has important consequences for the effect of information on choice. Individuals are not very sensitive to information on background goals, and when strength of the frame is high, they are even deaf to positive information on the second-best alternative since the highly skewed probability distribution over alternatives makes only one alternative cognitively salient. For prosocial behavior, this means that it is possible that, when norms are concrete (i.e., prescribe a particular action) and the strength of a “normative frame” (see below) is high, there is likely to be a kind of mechanical conformism toward all normatively prescribed behavior, including prosocial behavior.

Core Motivations: Master Frames and Their A Priori Strength Before prosocial behavior can be linked explicitly to framing, it must be known, what frames? There are, of course, many frames and it would not do to try to list them. Because it is goals that determine most of what a frame is like, the question is thus: What kind of goals?

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As mentioned above, the most relevant goals for the social sciences have to do with self versus other, and short term versus long term. Clearly, we are looking for (a) overriding goals that (b) characterize a basic direction of action and leave ample room for considerable differences in lower-order goals. To use a negative example: power (or control) is sometimes mentioned as such an overriding goal. However, it does not by itself give action a basic direction. An increase in power for someone who is cooperatively oriented means an increase in socially responsible behavior, whereas an increase in power for someone who is orientated toward personal gain means an increase in selfish behavior (see Chen, Lee-Chai, and Bargh, 2001). Approach and avoidance and its related responses are also basic and very important for information processing and behavior (see for example Epstein, 1993; Gollwitzer and Bayer, 1999) but by themselves not tied to either pole of the dimensions that are crucial for the analysis of social behavior—self-other directedness and short- or long-term orientation. Three goals that can be considered both overriding and basic for the direction of action have been suggested, and it is worthwhile to take a brief look at them (see Lindenberg, 2001a, for more detail). I call the frames of which they are a part “master frames.” Such frames can be taken to be core motivations in the sense introduced in the beginning of this chapter. Human beings are assumed to strive for improvement of their current condition. This assumption has already guided the work of Adam Smith and David Hume and has, in more recent times, become quite prominent (see, for example, Frank, 1992; Scitovsky, 1976). Improving one’s condition as a general striving also renders reference points and social comparison important for the study of motivation and cognition (Kahneman, 1992; Kahneman and Tversky, 1984). There are roughly two kinds of improvement: short-term and longer-term improvement, and it is possible to distinguish between overriding goals for improvement in the short term and improvement in the longer term. Millar and Tesser (1992) make a related distinction between “instrumental” and “hedonic” goals. For the short term, a general goal is the wish “to feel better right now.” It is directed at the emotional state of the self in the widest sense of the word. This holds not only for positive and negative bodily states (such as excitement, hunger, thirst, or pain) but also for positive and negative psychic states such as a sense of loss, angst, affection, and situational status. The frame that goes along with this goal may be called the hedonic frame. With regard to the longer term, a general goal is the wish “to improve one’s resources,” material or immaterial (such as money, competence, contacts, and general status). The frame that belongs to this goal can be called the gain frame. Such a frame is directly tied to the self, but it is removed from direct emotional involvement in the sense


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that resources must be used before they have any hedonic effect. By contrast, the experience of loss of resources (and the goal of loss avoidance) is likely to be directly tied to emotions and thus will more likely trigger a hedonic frame, instantly shorting the time horizon. A third general goal (only seemingly unrelated to improvement) is the wish “to act appropriately,” which belongs to a frame that may be called a normative frame. In such a frame, hedonic and gain-related goals are, if at all present, in the background. The universal ability of perspective taking (see Tomasello, 1999) in conjunction with universal epistemic goals is probably at the root of the ability to take on the point of view of the group and pursue the goal “to act appropriately” according to the group. This phenomenon is by now empirically well established (see Caporael, Dawes, Orbell, and Van de Kragt, 1989; Hogg, 2001; Kollock, 1997; Terry and Hogg, 2001) and quite essential to understanding the power of framing effects. Other-directedness in this sense relates not to another person per se but to the group as a whole or to a person as a member of the group. The prosocial behavior generated by a strong normative frame appears subjectively as a matter of course; it is a matter of doing the right thing rather than the efficient (gain) or the friendly (hedonic) thing (see Nunner-Winkler, 1997; Van Lange, 2000). Even though socialization is likely to foster this ability, we should not equate normative framing with the traditional concept of internalization. Internalization has to do with a stable change in preferences, whereas the goal “to act appropriately” is a situational goal with the help of which certain preferences may be activated. Parents clearly have a regulatory interest in such a goal and are likely to push it during socializing their child. Quite generally, parents take an interest in having their children follow norms even when nobody is watching. Their socializing efforts are thus likely to make social rewards systematically dependent on the goal “to act appropriately” rather than on the goal “to act in order to get the social rewards” or the goal “to avoid negative sanctions” since the latter would not work when nobody is watching. Thus, improvement in social approval and avoiding social disapproval are likely to be important elements in the background, but they are not related to the framed goal itself. In fact, these background goals may be the most important stabilizers of a normative frame (see Lindenberg, 2001a). Social rewards for prosocial behavior are rarely forthcoming if others see this behavior as motivated by the desire to get social approval or avoid disapproval. Thus, when people pursue social approval and avoidance of disapproval as the explicit goal (within a hedonic frame), it is likely to be seen socially as a lack of intrinsic interest in moral behavior and thus not rewarded or may be even punished. The goal “to act appropriately” is only indirectly tied to improvement and is likely to be tied to emotions only negatively,

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namely when norms are transgressed (guilt and shame, see Eisenberg, 2000). It clearly distinguishes itself from a hedonic goal (through effortful control) and from a gain-related goal (through the group-related other-directedness).

A Priori Strength of Frames A plausible assumption is that what is directly tied to both, emotions and the self, is, ceteris paribus, stronger in determining behavior than what is only related to the self and not directly to emotions, which, in turn, is stronger than what is directly related to neither emotions nor self. When this assumption is applied to the three frames, we get an a priori ordering of strength of the goals and thus of the frames. One goal is stronger than another if, in direct competition between the goals to structure the situation, it becomes the foreground goal and the other is pushed into the background. The hedonic goal is directly linked to emotions and the self, and it can thus be assumed to be a priori stronger than the other two goals. This means that unless there are special supports for the other two goals, the hedonic goal will be the dominant frame. The gain goal is directly tied to the self but generally not tied to strong emotions. As such, it is a priori stronger than the normative goal. In order to reverse this a priori pecking order between potential master frames, there must be special stabilizers that increase the strength of the gain or the normative frame. For example, strong shared and institutionalized religious beliefs in a group of individuals may create such consistently high amounts of social disapproval for nonconforming behavior that the normative frame cannot be displaced by a hedonic or gain frame. Notice that in this case, it is not a fear of sanctions that leads to the prosocial behavior. Rather, the sanctions (in the cognitive background) stabilize (and thereby strengthen) the normative frame, within which there is no weighing of the costs of benefits of norm-conforming behavior (see Steglich, 2003 for empirical evidence).

Goal-Framing, Mental Models, and Prosocial Behavior What can we learn from the above about prosocial behavior? What hypotheses can be derived? For a framing point of view, it is important for the understanding of prosocial behavior to know which overriding goals are in the foreground (as core motivation) and which are in the background. In principle, all three overriding goals can generate prosocial behavior, at times even a dynamic change of what is in the foreground and what is in the background, as we will see. I concentrate below on the


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differences between the core motivations (master frames) with regard to prosocial behavior, along the lines summarized in Table 2.1. In a normative frame, an individual’s main goal is to act appropriately. The answer to the question “What is appropriate?” comes to a large extent from the mental model of the relationship and it includes information about what kind of prosocial behavior is appropriate. Take a friendship relationship as an example. A close friendship is a strong solidary relationship. Thus, the mental image of a close friendship contains all five kinds of prosocial behavior, and in a normative frame, the individual will attempt to act appropriately with regard to all five kinds of prosocial behavior. Hedonic and gain goals are pushed into the cognitive background, and this means that the opportunity costs of behaving according to the relational expectations are also pushed into the background. It can, therefore, be expected that the stronger the normative frame, the lower the costs for each of these kinds of behavior and the rewards for nonconforming behavior are perceived to be, and thus the less behavior is affected by cost considerations. However, prosocial behavior in a normative frame is all the more sensitive to the clarity of the mental image concerning the relation and the norms. In fact, in an ongoing solidary (and surely also in a “modern” authority) relationship, prosocial behavior sends a “relational signal” to the other indicating that I, the sender, am in a normative frame and have solidarity in my mental model of our relationship (see Lindenberg, 2000). Because a normative frame is precarious, it is important for others to know whether a person acts prosocially because he or she is in a normative frame or because, for example, he or she is acting strategically from within a gain frame (see Mühlau and Lindenberg, 2003). Because the normative frame is very much dependent on strong supports for its stability, it can only withstand the onslaught of gain and hedonic goals if it is well stabilized by factors like common interest,

TABLE 2.1. Differences in prosocial behavior for different master frames.

Master frame

Need for social stabilization of the frame

Act prosocially when....

Sensitive to disturbance by...

Normative frame

high

it is appropriate

Gain frame

medium

it is efficient

Hedonic frame

low

it feels good

relational uncertainty and vague norms costs and low degree of monitoring own moods and unfriendliness of others

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widely shared consensus about the importance of acting appropriately, and clear social sanctions (like strong social disapproval). Such a frame particularly needs to be supplied with information from mental models about expectations and norms. When relationships become confused and norms vague, normative frames are in danger of being displaced, changing the conditions for the occurrence of prosocial behavior considerably. Generally, it can be said that whatever lowers the workings of relational signaling lowers the likelihood of prosocial behavior generated by a normative frame. Two examples will illustrate the point. Take the way a professor deals with her secretary in the pool of secretaries. General expectations in the modern university in the Netherlands press for equality among all members of the university community. Hierarchy should not be used conspicuously. However, hierarchy has not vanished. In all likelihood, there is relational confusion for professors in dealing with secretaries, leaning toward equality when things are relaxed and pulling rank when time pressure is high. What is a need situation in a weak solidary relationship (requiring prosocial behavior on the part of the secretary and appropriate gratitude on the part of the professor) is a legitimate demand in an authority relationship. This, however, creates relational uncertainty in both the professor and the secretary. Vague norms also make it difficult to act appropriately. For example, when the dress code for a particular private occasion is not clear, what should one wear? There are two ways to go about this (short of inquiring about the dress code). One possibility is to argue, “If they don’t take the trouble to make the dress code clear, I can wear what I want.” There is no attempt at prosocial behavior because the norm is vague. Another possibility is to use “smart norms” (i.e., higher-order [abstract] norms) about relationships. For example, such a higher-order norm might be to behave in such a way that one will not offend the other’s feeling (be considerate). Now one would have to figure out what kind of dress would be inoffensive for the hosts no matter what. Such abstract “smart norms” appear to be on the increase as many social norms become more vague (see Nunner-Winkler, 2000). More serious examples of relational confusion (which hampers the workings of relational signals) can be found in Wittek’s study of a paper factory (Wittek, 1999). For reasons of space, I cannot go into how the framing process is affected by the goals in the background, but it is obvious that this makes a big difference. For example, when a person is in a normative frame, the fear of social disapproval may be in the background, supporting the normative frame (see Steglich, 2003). When fear of social disapproval is in the foreground (for example, in a hedonic frame), it is a different matter because now the mental model contains such elements as the likelihood that one is being observed, and one of the behavioral alternatives is to cheat or sneak (for a discussion on how


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different background goals influence intrinsic versus extrinsic behavior, see Lindenberg, 2001b, see also Karr and Meijs, this volume). In a gain frame, the individual’s main goal is to improve his or her resources (such as money, general status, or opportunities). As a core motivation, a gain frame is virtually identical to what is generally assumed about self-interest. People act prosocially if it is an efficient means toward increasing gain: if it “pays.” Contrary to a normative frame, a gain frame is very sensitive to relative cost issues. If the relative cost of prosocial behavior rises, other alternatives to the same aim (gain) may take over. A low degree of visibility of sacrifice (i.e., little monitoring) lowers the possible gain from making a sacrifice for prosocial behavior, and it lowers the cost of failing to make sacrifices, thus making prosocial behavior less likely. This idea is behind the principle-agent theory of cooperation in economics (see Milgrom and Roberts, 1992). Notice that mental images of relations play a role in a gain frame, too. Of course, in an opportunistic relationship, there are no prosocial expectations. However, business relations may be oriented toward keeping a win/win relation going, and that is likely to be interpreted as some form of a common good situation that requires cooperation. Game theorists have shown that there are situations in which a gain frame can generate prosocial behavior, at least in the sense of cooperative behavior. The relationship must then be longer term and the discounting influence of time on the value of the relationship to the participants must be modest, or there must be possibilities for sanctions (for example, through reputation damage) in the future (see Buskens, 2002). In analyses by game theorists, the nature of the relationship is often not worked out even though the examples often point to relations of weak solidarity (for example, longer-term business partners). For example, Uzzi (1997) identified weak solidarity relationships among many representatives of buyers and suppliers in the New York apparel industry. The question is whether weak solidarity can be sustained within a gain frame (and, thus, whether it can be investigated using a theory that only acknowledges a gain frame). In weak solidarity, all five kinds of prosocial behavior are expected and the question is whether this is possible within a gain frame. Can weak solidarity be sustained with relational signals that convey efficiency as the overriding goal? It does not seem likely, but so far game theorists have not dealt seriously with this question because (mental models of) relationships have not been considered part of the game except in terms of payoffs (see reviews by Camerer, 2003, and Rabin, 1998). Theories of social preferences (see for example Charness and Rabin, 2002; Fehr and Fischbacher, 2002) go a long way in the right direction but so far lack any consideration of the situational influence on the “selection” of preferences due to the effect of goals on cognitive processes. Going a step further, Bowles (1998) presents varied and convincing evidence

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that the social (including cultural and institutional) context matters for preferences and psychological processes. However, he refrains from offering an explanation of how this may work. A hedonic frame can also be the source of prosocial behavior. Take, for example, empathy or love, both of which can create strong emotions, which, in turn, can bring about a hedonic frame when another person is in distress. An individual in a hedonic frame would then act prosocially in order to feel better (see Cialdini, Brown, Lewis, Luce, and Neuberg, 1997). However, because a hedonic frame is tied to feelings here and now, it is also fickle. Changes in mood have a considerable influence on prosocial behavior. A small change can have a large effect. Especially important is behavior of others that makes one feel bad and renders prosocial behavior unlikely, and often even increases antisocial responses. Take irritability or general unfriendliness: These quickly reduce the willingness of others to behave prosocially. Because a hedonic frame needs no extra support, social situations degenerate to being dominated by hedonic frames if normative and gain frames lose their supports. This also affects our view of institutions. They do not just regulate behavior by incentives but also regulate the stability of normative and gain frames each in their “proper” situation (see Lindenberg, 1992).

Conclusion It was argued that a major issue regarding the explanation of prosocial behavior is whether prosocial behavior can emanate from very different core motivations, even in the same individual. If so, what are these core motivations? How can a theory of action deal with them? And, finally, how can differences in the occurrence of prosocial behavior be explained on the basis of different core motivations? The answers to these questions were sought mainly in the theory of goal framing and of mental models of relationships. Framing is a process that can create integrated patterns of goal pursuit, with selective attention to certain features of the situation, with sensitivity to certain information, and with the activation of certain chunks of memory and knowledge. It is a combined cognitive-motivational process that creates core motivations. In an action situation, this process is fed by the mental model of the social relationship the actor perceives or intends to have with the other actor(s). This mental model also contains information about the kinds of prosocial behavior expected within such a relationship. Different kinds of relationship may require different kinds of prosocial behavior. Three different master frames were identified that represent different core motivations: a normative frame (with the goal “to act appropriately”), a gain frame (with the goal “to increase one’s resources”),


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and a hedonic frame (with the goal “to feel better”). Prosocial behavior can occur in each of these frames, but the conditions that affect its occurrence are very different in each of them. For example, a normative frame is the most precarious and needs more social support for its stability than the other frames. In addition, the likelihood of prosocial behavior occurring in a normative frame is likely to decrease rapidly with relational confusion and vague norms even if the frame itself is stable. Prosocial behavior in a gain frame is very sensitive to the influence of relative costs of such behavior in comparison to the costs of other alternatives leading to the same goal (gain). In a hedonic frame, the occurrence of prosocial behavior reacts strongly to changes in moods and to the atmosphere of the situation in terms of friendliness. Aspects of the situation (such as social, institutional, and cultural factors) and of the person (such as personality traits and skills) strongly influence the kind of master frame and the kind of relational mental model that are operative in a given situation. These links were not discussed in detail here, but they will ultimately be the major test of the usefulness of this approach to the study of prosocial behavior, and other chapters in this book take a more thorough look at its potential for explaining prosocial behavior.

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Lindenberg, S.M. (1988). Contractual relations and weak solidarity: The behavioral basis of restraints on gain-maximization. Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics, 144, 39–58. Lindenberg, S.M. (1992). An extended theory of institutions and contractual discipline. Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics, 148, 125–154. Lindenberg, S.M. (1993). Club hierarchy, social metering and context instruction: Governance structures in response to varying self-command capital. In S.M. Lindenberg and H. Schreuder (Eds.), Interdisciplinary perspectives on organization studies (pp. 195–220). Oxford: Pergamon. Lindenberg, S.M. (1997). Grounding groups in theory: Functional, cognitive, and structural interdependencies. Advances in Group Processes, 14, 281–331. Lindenberg, S.M. (1998). Solidarity: Its microfoundations and macro-dependence. A framing approach. In P. Doreian and T.J. Fararo (Eds.), The problem of solidarity: Theories and models (pp. 61–112). Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach. Lindenberg, S.M. (2000). It takes both trust and lack of mistrust: The workings of cooperation and relational signaling in contractual relationships. Journal of Management and Governance, 4, 11–33. Lindenberg, S.M. (2001a). Social rationality versus rational egoism. In J. Turner (Ed.), Handbook of sociological theory (pp. 635–668). New York: Kluwer Academic/Plenum. Lindenberg, S.M. (2001b). Intrinsic motivation in a new light. Kyklos, 54, 317–342. Lindenberg, S.M. (2003). Governance seen from a framing point of view: The employment relationship and relational signaling. In B. Nooteboom and F.E. Six (Eds.), The trust process in organizations, empirical studies of the determinants and the process of trust development (pp. 37–57). Cheltenham and Northampton: Elgar. Milgrom, P., and Roberts, J. (1992). Economics, organization and management. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. Millar, M.G., and Tesser, A. (1992). The role of beliefs and feelings in guiding behavior: The mismatch model. In L.L. Martin and A. Tesser (Eds.), The construction of social judgement (pp. 277–300). Mahwah, N.J.: Erlbaum. Mühlau, P., and Lindenberg, S.M. (2003). Efficiency wages: Signals or incentives? An empirical study of the relationship between wage and commitment. Journal of Management and Governance, 7, 385–400. Nunner-Winkler, G. (1997). The development of moral understanding and moral motivation. International Journal of Educational Research, 27, 587–603. Nunner-Winkler, G. (2000). Wandel in den Moralvorstellungen. Ein Generationenvergleich. In W. Edelstein and G. Nunner-Winkler (Eds.), Moral im sozialen Kontext (pp. 299–336). Frankfurt/Main: Suhrkamp. Rabin, M. (1998). Psychology and economics. Journal of Economic Literature, 36, 11–46. Ross, L., and Nisbett, R.E. (1991). The person and the situation: Perspectives of social psychology. New York: McGraw-Hill. Scheff, T. J. (1967). Towards a sociological model of consensus. American Sociological Review, 32, 32–46. Scitovsky, T. (1976). The joyless economy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Shah, J., and Kruglanski, A.W. (2003). When opportunity knocks: Bottom-up priming of goals by means and its effect on self-regulation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 84, 1109–1122. Simon, H. (1957). Models of man: Social and rational. New York: Wiley. Smeesters, D., Warlop, L., Van Avermaet, E., Corneille, O., and Yzerbyt, V. (2003). Do not prime hawks with doves: The interplay of construct activation and consistency of social value orientation on cooperative behavior. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 84, 972–987. Stapel, D.A., and Koomen, W.M. (2005). Competition, cooperation, and the effects of others on me. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology Vol. 88(6). pp. 1029–1038. Stapel, D.A., Koomen, W., and Zeelenberg, M. (1998). The impact of accuracy motivation on interpretation, comparison, and correction processes: Accuracy x

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knowledge accessibility effects. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 878–893. Steglich, C. (2003). The framing of decision situations. Dissertation. Groningen University/ICS, the Netherlands. Strack, F., and Deutsch, R. (2004). Reflective and impulsive determinants of social behavior. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 8, 220–247. Terry, D.J., and Hogg, M.A. (2001). Attitudes, behavior, and social context: The role of norms and group membership in social influence processes. In J.P. Forgas and K.D. Williams (Eds.), Social influence: Direct and indirect processes (pp. 253–270). Philadelphia: Psychology Press. Tesser, A. (1988). Toward a self-evaluation maintenance model of social behavior. In L. Berkowitz (Ed.), Advances in experimental social psychology (Vol. 21, pp. 181–227). New York: Academic Press. Tomasello, M. (1999). The cultural origins of human cognition. Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press. Uzzi, B. (1997). Social structure and competition in interfirm networks: The paradox of embeddedness. Administrative Science Quarterly, 42,1, 35–67. Van Lange, P.A.M. (2000). Beyond self-interest: A set of propositions relevant to interpersonal orientations. In W. Stroebe and M. Hewstone (Eds.), European review of social psychology (Vol. 11, pp. 297–331). New York: Wiley. Wittek, R. (1999). Interdependence and informal control in organizations. Amsterdam: Thela Thesis. Yamagishi, T. (1995). Social dilemmas. In K.S. Cook, G.A. Fine, and J.S. House (Eds.), Sociological perspectives on social psychology (pp. 311–335). Boston: Allyn and Bacon.

CHAPTER 3

Learning and Framing in Social Exchange Andreas Flache and Michael W. Macy

Reciprocity is one of the most widespread and persistent norms for regulating behavior in long-term social relationships (Gouldner, 1960). Successful relationships are typically characterized by a pattern of reciprocal solidarity, while “sour” relationships display the mirror image—a pattern of mutual recrimination (e.g., Buunk and Dijkstra, this volume). We define solidarity as behavior that benefits others at some cost that is not immediately compensated (cf. Lindenberg, Fetchenhauer, Flache, and Buunk, this volume). Reciprocal solidarity is widely observed in exchanges between family members, firms, and nation-states.

The Puzzle of Reciprocity The robustness and prevalence of reciprocal solidarity presents a puzzle. Although both sides benefit from mutual cooperation (the exchange of valued resources), each is also tempted by incentives and opportunities to unilaterally defect (to fail to reciprocate the partner’s solidary behavior). For example, in business relations such temptation may occur when a firm has already received payment for a shipment from a long-standing client, but then suddenly receives an order from a new client that may be willing to engage in future contracts. The supplier is tempted to give priority to the potential new business relation and to delay the shipment to its old client, violating in the process the norm of due delivery for due payment in relations with long-standing partners. The result may be something that neither of the two old business partners actually wants: deterioration of the relationship into mutual distrust or even disruption of the business contact. Yet numerous experimental studies of exchange behavior have demonstrated the robustness of reciprocal solidarity despite opportunities to cheat the exchange partner without danger of being detected or punished (e.g., Buunk and Schaueffeli, 1999; Ligthart, 1995). Why is reciprocal 45

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solidarity in ongoing exchange relations so widespread and why is the norm of reciprocity so robust across a variety of exchange situations? In this chapter, we compare two proposed approaches—learning and framing—that address why and when reciprocity may prevail despite the opportunistic temptation to cheat. In framing theory (Lindenberg, 1998 and this volume), situational characteristics and the history of the relationship determine whether actors frame their decisions in the exchange primarily in terms of gain or whether gain as a dominant goal is tempered or even replaced by the goal to follow norms of solidarity. These norms can vary in strength. Solidarity norms are strong when solidary behavior is the actors’ dominant goal (i.e., their frame) of the exchange situation. When solidarity norms are present but weak, then the gain motive still dominates, but it is tempered by solidarity as a goal in the background. With strong or weak solidarity, participants in an exchange tend to ignore incidental temptation to defect and they also tend to forgive each other if things occasionally go wrong. Only strong temptations or consistent violations of reciprocity by the exchange partner may bring about such a salient gain frame that the relationship deteriorates into mutual defection. We compare framing theory to a learning-theoretic alternative. Our learning model draws upon Thorndike’s (1911) Law of Effect, which is based on the principle that “pleasure stamps in, pain stamps out.” We show that the Law of Effect suffices to model reciprocity in long-term relationships, without the need for elaborations to the theory such as role modeling or social learning (Bandura, 1977) in which actors imitate rules observed in significant or successful others. Using Rapoport and Chammah’s (1965) application of the Bush-Mosteller stochastic learning model, Macy (1991) showed how penalty-aversive, rewardseeking agents can elude the trap of mutual defection and establish a successful ongoing exchange relationship. A random sequence of bilateral outcomes (either mutual cooperation or mutual defection) can lead adaptive agents out of the “social trap” of mutual defection into stable mutual cooperation, a process he characterized as “stochastic collusion.” Growing interest in framing and learning reflect widespread criticisms of two alternative theories of solidarity in social exchange— rational calculation and natural selection. In the next section, we outline these criticisms and show how framing and learning approaches avoid these limitations. Then we compare the behavioral assumptions underlying framing and learning theory and the implications of framing and learning for the conditions and dynamics of reciprocal solidarity. We conclude with a discussion of the complementarities of the two theories.

3: Learning and Framing in Social Exchange

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Competing Approaches: Rational Choice and Evolution Rational choice theory models actors as cognitively sophisticated and self-interested decision makers who evaluate all possible future consequences of alternative actions and select the action that maximizes their self-interest (Coleman, 1990, pp. 13–19). In this view, reciprocal solidarity is a rational response to enlightened self-interest. In repeated interactions, egoistic actors who value future outcomes may be better off if they resist the temptation to take advantage of a cooperative partner and instead reciprocate. So long as there is a sufficiently long “shadow of the future” (Axelrod, 1984; cf. Friedman, 1971), the expectation of long-term gain through a cooperative relationship will deter rational actors from adopting a strategy of “hit and run” that is likely to bring the relationship to an end. This expectation, in turn, rests on the rational expectation that one’s partner will retaliate if cheated and will likewise resist the temptation to cheat. Accordingly, orthodox rational choice explanations rest on the assumption of a “reflexive rationality of actors anticipating each others’ choices” (Scharpf, 1990, p. 471). Numerous critics have argued that this model of action is psychologically unrealistic because it overestimates the capacity and willingness of actors to calculate the long-term cumulative benefits against the short-run advantage of “hit and run.” For example, Simon (1992, p. 36) regarded strategic rationality as at best a prescriptive model of how choices should be made, but one that bears little resemblance to actual decision making. These criticisms have led researchers to include “bounded” rationality explicitly in rational choice explanations. Examples are approaches that take into account imperfect information processing or models that maximize utility only in the short term and fail to anticipate long-term future consequences (e.g., Fudenberg and Levine, 1998). Theories of learning and framing assume at most a bounded rationality and thus provide microfoundations for cooperative reciprocity that do not rely on heroic assumptions about perfect rationality and full information. Instead, learning and framing assume adaptive heuristics or “rules of thumb” that impose relatively small cognitive demands compared to the assumptions in analytical game theory (Orbell and Dawes, 1991). These heuristics have been identified through experimental analyses of human decision making. With these heuristics, Orbell and Dawes argue, real decision makers “economize on cognitive effort” (1991, p. 517) rather than pursue perfectly rational solutions. Parallel with the development of models of bounded rationality, criticism of rational choice explanations led game theorists to explore evolutionary alternatives. Studies in evolutionary game theory (e.g., Axelrod, 1984; Maynard-Smith, 1982) avoid the need to assume that individual actors have highly sophisticated cognitive abilities. The

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optimizing mechanism operates not at the level of individual cognition, but at the population level, through competitive pressures that favor the survival and replication of behavioral strategies that are successful relative to the population average. In a celebrated computer tournament, Axelrod (1984) showed that strategies based on “tit for tat” (a rule to reciprocate cooperation with cooperation and cheating with cheating) were far more successful than more aggressive or predatory mutants. Tit for tat succeeds because it never cheats and it never tolerates cheating by others. It therefore receives the long-term benefits of ongoing mutual cooperation while minimizing its vulnerability to cheaters. Cheaters would do well in a population of naive cooperators, but by driving the latter to extinction, they dig their own graves. In a population of reciprocators, cheating triggers retaliation. Thus, the short-term benefit of cheating cannot keep up with the long-term benefits of mutual cooperation enjoyed by reciprocators. Critics of evolutionary explanations based on natural selection have pointed out that genetic replication and selection may be a misleading template for models of adaptation at the cognitive level (Aunger, 2001). A central problem is that behavioral strategies for exchange in long-term relationships are not simply “hardwired” programs that successful actors automatically pass on to their biological offspring. Adherents of evolutionary psychology argue that the effects of natural selection on contemporary human behavior may be much more indirect (cf. Cosmides and Tooby, 1992). These authors emphasize that natural selection requires a long time span with stable environmental conditions to effectively shape the genetic basis of human behavior. Moreover, genetic predispositions do not carry detailed information about which behavioral response the organism should choose in a given situation. Instead, genetic programs may elicit certain emotional responses (e.g., anger) to certain situational cues (e.g., failure of partner to reciprocate). Within these constraints, genetic dispositions still leave room for extragenetic behavioral change, for example, based on learning or conscious deliberation. Theories of learning and framing address this gap in evolutionary models of adaptive behavior. In evolution, strategies compete between the individuals that carry them, not within them. That is, evolutionary models explore changes in the global frequency distribution of strategies across a population. By contrast, models of learning and framing operate on the local probability distribution of strategies within the repertoire of each individual member. Put differently, these models provide a microfoundation for the extragenetic behavioral change that is missing in evolutionary approaches. While evolutionary theory explains long-term cognitive developments such as the human capacities for learning and framing, these capacities in turn complement evolutionary theories by explaining more fine-grained adaptive responses to short-term changes in the environment.


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To sum up, both orthodox game theory based on assumptions of perfect rationality as well as an evolutionary alternative have been widely used to explain strategies of reciprocal solidarity in social exchange. Relentless criticisms of these game theoretic approaches have motivated interest in both framing and learning as alternative explanations of reciprocal solidarity (cf. Lindenberg, this volume; Lindenberg et al., this volume; Macy and Flache, 2002). However, these two approaches have developed in parallel, with no attention to their theoretical differences and similarities. It is to that question we now turn.

Framing and Learning: Assumptions Compared The behavioral assumptions in framing and learning theories occupy a similar niche between evolution and full rationality but are otherwise very different from one another. An extensive account of framing explanations of solidary behavior has been given in Chapters 1 and 2 of this volume. Reciprocity in exchanges can be seen as an instance of weak solidarity. Under conditions of weak solidarity, participants in an exchange feel legitimated to pursue the goal of improving their personal resources through the exchange (Lindenberg, 2001 and this volume), but compliance with social norms remains a salient secondary goal. That is, solidarity is not so strong a goal that individuals are willing to sacrifice resources without the expectation of reciprocity. But the goal is salient enough that moderate temptations to cheat are ignored and occasional failures to reciprocate (perhaps due to mishaps) are forgiven when excuses have been made. Framing theory specifies relational signals as a crucial mechanism that stabilizes weak solidarity against the continuous “pull” from opportunistic temptation (Lindenberg, 1998). Relational signaling requires that an occasional failure to reciprocate be accompanied by an unambiguous signal that no cheating was intended. In a long-term exchange, such a signal might, for instance, be given through temporary unconditional cooperation by the party that violated the norm. In addition to relational signals, framing theory posits loss avoidance as a mechanism that safeguards against opportunism. As Lindenberg (2001) argues, when an actor feels threatened by a severe loss (for example, when cheating by a long-term exchange partner may be particularly costly), this may trigger a loss frame in which avoidance of the loss dominates normative or gain-oriented motives. Actors’ anticipation of such a frame switch, in turn, may stabilize cooperation, particularly in situations where unsolidary behavior may elicit retaliatory responses that can inflict severe losses on the transgressor. For example, Mühlau (2000, p. 211) points out in an analysis of framing effects in organizational governance that “the higher the damage potential the

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other party controls, the more willing an actor will be to bear the costs associated with relational obligations” (cf. Lindenberg, 1988). Translated into social exchanges, this loss avoidance implies that cooperative reciprocity will be particularly stable when the loss of resources obtained from the exchange partner could be highly damaging for a participant. In sum, framing theory does not neglect self-interested motives and leaves ample room for goal-directed individual choice. However, the model also posits a “cognitive miser” (Orbell and Dawes, 1991) in that it assumes that the complexity of individuals’ decision making in most decision-making situations is greatly reduced by a focus on one foreground goal at a time. Like framing theory, learning theory also relaxes key behavioral assumptions of the orthodox rational choice approach without disregarding self-interest and goal-driven decision making. There are three key differences with analytical game theory based on standard rational choice: • Propinquity replaces causality as the link between choices and payoffs. • Reward and punishment replace utility as the motivation for choice. • Melioration replaces optimization as the basis for the distribution of choices over time.

Propinquity, not Causality Compared to analytical game theory, the Law of Effect imposes a lighter cognitive load on decision makers. It assumes experiential induction of the future consequences of actions that were previously encountered. By contrast, rational behavior assumes logical deduction of actions that may never have been experienced. In learning theory, players develop preferences for those actions associated with better outcomes in the past, even though the association may be coincidental, “superstitious,” or causally spurious.

Reward and Punishment, not Utility Learning theory differs from game-theoretic utility theory in that it posits two distinct cognitive mechanisms that guide decision makers toward better outcomes: approach (driven by reward) and avoidance (driven by punishment). The distinction means that aspiration levels are very important for learning theory. The effect of an outcome depends on whether it is coded as gain or loss, satisfactory or unsatisfactory, pleasant or aversive.


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Melioration, not Optimization Melioration implies a tendency to repeat choices with satisfactory outcomes even if other choices have higher utility, a behavioral tendency March and Simon (1958) call “satisficing.” A good example is the decision whether to cooperate in an ongoing exchange. Melioration can imply that each side is satisfied with its current choice when the partner cooperates and dissatisfied when the partner defects. Unsatisfactory outcomes increase the probability that alternative actions will be taken, including a tendency to revisit alternative choices whose outcomes are even worse, a pattern we call “dissatisficing.” While the three learning principles may describe decision making that is suboptimal by conventional game-theoretic criteria, they may be more effective in leading actors out of social traps than more sophisticated decision-making rules. The outcomes of the exchange that are regarded as rewards, such as a successful and mutually profitable business transaction, induce approach behavior, the tendency to repeat the associated choices even if other choices have higher utility. In contrast, outcomes that are coded as punishments, such as being cheated by an exchange partner, induce avoidance. Taken together, approach and avoidance imply the possibility that reciprocal solidarity may become self-reinforcing in exchange relations. As long as participants are sufficiently satisfied with mutual cooperation (approach) and they are sufficiently dissatisfied with failure to exchange (avoidance), learning dynamics may lead actors to engage in reciprocal cooperation.

Comparison of Theory Implications Both framing and reinforcement learning theories predict behavior that corresponds with reciprocal solidarity. But do the models also make similar predictions about the conditions and dynamics of reciprocal solidarity? We found remarkable overlap between the two sets of predictions, but with one interesting exception. Framing suggests that frequent norm violations lead inevitably to irreversible deterioration of the exchange. In contrast, learning theory implies that recovery is possible, even when actors adapt their aspirations to recent experience. To compare the implications of framing and learning theories, we used formal games as stylized representations of strategic interdependence in ongoing exchanges. Game theory has formalized the problem of cooperation at the most elementary level as a mixed-motive two-person game with two choices: cooperate and defect. These choices intersect at four possible outcomes, abbreviated as CC, CD, DD, and DC. Each outcome has an associated payoff: R (reward), S (sucker), P (punishment), and T (temptation), respectively. Using these payoffs, we defined

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a two-person social dilemma as any ordering of these payoffs such that mutual cooperation is collectively optimal yet may be undermined by the temptation to cheat (if T > R) or by the fear of being cheated (if P > S), or by both. In the game of Stag Hunt, the problem is “fear” but not “greed” (R > T > P > S), and in the game of Chicken, the problem is “greed” but not “fear” (T > R > S > P). The problem is most challenging when both fear and greed are present, that is, when T > R and P > S. Given the assumption that R > P, there is only one way this can happen: if T > R > P > S, the celebrated game of Prisoner’s Dilemma (PD). For social exchange situations, the games of Stag Hunt, Chicken, and PD correspond to different forms of interdependence. As Rousseau (who invented the game) noted, Stag Hunt games may arise when contributions by all participants are necessary to produce a common good that everyone values highly. The prototypical example is a work team that has the opportunity to receive a substantial bonus payment for all team members, but only when a production target is met for which great effort on the part of all members is needed. The Chicken game models a situation where the bonus may be obtained if at least some members shoulder the burden, but it will certainly be lost if at least a certain fraction of the group fails to pull its weight. Group members may prefer to free-ride, but if they feel that the bonus may be lost due to others freeriding, they “give in” and work hard to avoid the worst. Finally, in the PD game, contributions do not sufficiently reduce the chances of obtaining the bonus to compensate for the cost of effort. Even in PD, however, universal defection is suboptimal, because all group members prefer to work and get the bonus than lose it because of universal free-riding. To compare predictions for long-term exchange relationships, we assume that actors in an exchange relation play the underlying game repeatedly and learn the outcomes after every round of mutual decision making. For simplicity, we further confine our analysis to symmetrical games in which the payoffs R, T, P, and S are equal for both players. With respect to learning theory, we draw on results that we elaborated elsewhere in formal computational experiments (Flache and Macy, 2002; Macy, 1991; Macy and Flache, 2002). In these studies, we used the Bush-Mosteller stochastic learning model, a mathematical formalization of reinforcement learning. Figure 3.1 provides a schematic overview of the learning mechanism in our computational model. Partner’s Choice: C/D Propensity

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The first step in Figure 3.1 is the decision made by each player whether to cooperate or defect. This decision is probabilistic, based on the player’s current propensity to cooperate. The resulting outcome then generates payoffs (R, S, P, or T) that the players evaluate as satisfactory or unsatisfactory relative to their aspiration levels. Satisfactory payoffs present a positive stimulus (or reward) and unsatisfactory payoffs present a negative stimulus (or punishment). The stimulus modifies the probability of repeating the associated choice, such that satisfactory choices become more likely to be repeated, while repetition of unsatisfactory choices becomes less likely. For a formal specification of learning dynamics, we refer interested readers to our previous publications (e.g., Flache and Macy, 2002; Macy and Flache, 2002). Unlike reinforcement learning theory, framing theory has not yet been fully formalized in such a way that model dynamics are directly comparable. To make a comparison possible, we derived from framing theory informally stylized facts about the effects of game structures and game parameters. We compared these facts to the implications of a computational model of reinforcement learning.

Framing Predictions The first step is to make assumptions about players’ frames at the outset of a repeated game, when the relationship does not yet have a history. Framing theory assumes that decision making is “forwardlooking” in the sense that actors’ mental images of a relationship shape their initial behavior and aspirations. Mental images, in turn, depend on the social context of a relationship (see Lindenberg et al., this volume). This highlights an important theoretical difference between framing and reinforcement learning: While assumptions about the initial perceptions of the relationship are endogenous in framing theory, reinforcement learning theory treats initial aspirations and behavior as exogenously given and independent of the particular situation. For our analysis of the three abstract social dilemma games, however, the game structures as such do not provide information about the social context of the interaction. Accordingly, for a framing analysis, we need to use assumptions that are exogenous to the theory. Such assumptions are drawn from experimental data on social dilemma games. Experimental data about social dilemma games seem to be most consistent with the assumption that subjects frame the exchange situation initially in terms of weak solidarity (cf. Davis and Holt, 1993). Two highly robust results from the literature support this interpretation. First, across a wide range of social dilemma games, subjects exhibited in experiments have a large proportion of cooperative choices in the first iterations of repeated games, an observation that is at odds with

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the notion that subjects are exclusively gain oriented. At the same time, cooperation rates steadfastly declined over time in the experiments (Andreoni, 1988), a clear indication that the solidarity motive at best tempers but does not dominate gain considerations. Given initial weak solidarity, we find three stylized facts implied by framing that can be compared with learning predictions. First, framing theory suggests that cooperation rates will be lowest in PD, highest in Stag Hunt, and between these extremes in Chicken. The payoff inequalities of PD, Chicken, and Stag Hunt differ in two dimensions that are salient for the framing explanation: the temptation to engage in opportunism and the importance of loss avoidance. The greater the temptation to engage in opportunism, that is, the larger the gains that an actor may attain when he or she unilaterally deviates from reciprocal solidarity, the more salient the motive of gain relative to the normative frame that stabilizes mutual cooperation. The temptation to unilaterally defect from mutual cooperation is lowest in Stag Hunt, where players prefer mutual cooperation to cheating, and is similar in Chicken and PD, where both players prefer exploitation of the partner to mutual cooperation. Loss avoidance works in the opposite direction. The threat of loss to a player owing to deterioration of the relationship may actually strengthen solidary behavior. Such losses are highest in Chicken (where mutual defection is the least preferred outcome), and they are higher in Stag Hunt than in PD (because the difference between mutual cooperation and mutual defection tends to be larger in Stag Hunt). Taken together, from a framing perspective, conditions for reciprocal solidarity are least favorable in PD (high temptation, low loss from opportunism), and they are most favorable in Stag Hunt (low temptation, medium loss), with the Chicken game between these extremes. The second stylized fact implied by framing theory is the gradual decline of cooperation rates over time in games with a high temptation to defect (PD and Chicken). Lindenberg (1998) argues that ongoing exposure to such temptation may gradually weaken actors’ normative frames such that, at some point, the relationship may “turn sour” and degrade into mutual defection. He also points out that consistent and repeated relational signals of cooperative intentions by both parties may prevent the decline. In the simple social dilemma games that we analyzed, however, the only interaction between players was in their decision to cooperate or defect. Hence, the only relational signal an actor can give after occasional unilateral cheating is subsequent unconditional cooperation. Clearly, the same temptation that leads an actor to cheat in the first place may also prevent the actor from giving this costly signal. Accordingly, framing theory suggests that exchange relations have a tendency to eventually degrade into mutual defection, more so in games with higher temptation to defect (PD, Chicken) and less so in Stag Hunt.


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Clearly our list of stylized facts derived from framing is far from exhaustive and may be extended in future research. For the predictions we derive here, we explored whether similar conditions and dynamics of reciprocal solidarity would be obtained from reinforcement learning.

Framing Predictions and a Computational Model of Learning We use a set of learning assumptions that make reciprocal solidarity based on stochastic collusion possible but not trivial. We assume that at the outset of the games players will randomize between cooperation and defection, reflecting the assumption that no stimuli have yet been experienced that favor choices in one direction or the other. Furthermore, we set the rate of behavioral change following stimuli relatively high, approaching a “win-stay, lose-change” heuristic, in which choices are always repeated when rewarded and always changed to the alternative (C or D) when punished. To formalize the three games, we use payoffs ordered from the set [4, 3, 1, 0] for each of the three social dilemma payoff inequalities. We assume an aspiration level of A = 2 that corresponds to the payoff expected when behavioral propensities are uninformed by prior experience and all players randomize such that all four payoffs are equiprobable. With this aspiration level, mutual cooperation is the unique outcome in all three games that simultaneously satisfy both players. There is no guarantee, however, that mutual cooperation will arise, since players will also be punished for cooperation should the partner defect, and they will be rewarded for defection should the partner cooperate (Flache and Macy, 2002; Macy and Flache, 2002). Figure 3.2 shows single replications of the learning dynamics that we obtained in all three social dilemma games using these baseline assumptions. The figure charts the change in the probability of cooperation (PC) for one of two players with statistically identical probabilities. 1.00

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Figure 3.2 shows that dissatisficing learning players initially wander about in an unstable equilibrium with a low probability of cooperation, but eventually escape the social trap by random walk (or what we call “stochastic collusion”). The figure also reveals differences between the games. Mutual cooperation stabilizes most readily in Stag Hunt and least readily in Prisoner’s Dilemma. To test the robustness of this difference, we performed 1,000 replications of the experiment and measured the proportion of runs that stabilized on mutual cooperation within 250 iterations. The results confirmed the differences between the games. These differences reflect subtle but important interactions between aspiration levels and the type of social dilemma—the relative importance of fear (the problem in Stag Hunt) and greed (the problem in Chicken). The findings also show that satisficing is equally important, at least in the Prisoner’s Dilemma and in the Chicken game. In these games, appreciation that the payoff for mutual cooperation is “good enough” motivates players to stay the course despite the temptation to cheat (given T > R). Otherwise, mutual cooperation would not be selfreinforcing. In Stag Hunt, satisficing is less needed in the long run, because there is no temptation to cheat (R > T). Despite the absence of greed, however, the findings reveal that, even in Stag Hunt, fear may inhibit stochastic collusion if high aspirations limit satisficing. With respect to framing theory, the results shown in Figure 3.2 demonstrate that our simple reinforcement learning model generates the same qualitative differences between games as are predicted by the first stylized fact we derived from framing theory. Interestingly, the underlying mechanisms also seem very similar. In learning, it is the proper balance between the punishment for defection and the reward for cooperation that drives the emergent reciprocity in exchange relations. In framing, reciprocity thrives on the proper balance between resistance to the temptation to cheat and the motivation to avoid losses caused by mutual sanctioning. However, when we turn to the second stylized fact derived from framing—gradual decline of cooperation—we find a clear difference between the predictions. As Figure 3.2 shows, reinforcement learning implies a robust tendency of exchange relationships to recover from occasional violations of the reciprocity norm, even when these violations are quite frequent, as, for example, between iterations 20 and 60 of the PD experiment. Framing, on the other hand, suggests that after too many violations of normative expectations, relations decay into mutual defection without the possibility to recover (cf. Lindenberg, 1998). The latter pattern seems more consistent with experimental results from social dilemma games (Andreoni, 1988) than the consistent recovery predicted by learning models. To further test this difference between the theories, we added to the learning model an additional learning principle that may explain,


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from a learning perspective, why reciprocal solidarity can become unstable. This learning principle, called “habituation” (Sokolov, 1963), assumes a decline in the tendency to respond to stimuli that have become familiar through repeated exposure. Technically, we operationalize habituation as the tendency to adapt aspiration levels to experienced payoffs. Habituation can lead to desensitization to a recurrent stimulus, whether reward or punishment, and to increased sensitivity to change in the stimulus. Thus, habituation to reward decreases sensitivity to further reward but increases sensitivity to punishment. We model habituation as the tendency of aspirations gradually to float toward the average payoff experienced in recent interactions. In addition, we assume the same start conditions for the experiment as before. Figure 3.3 shows the results. Figure 3.3 shows the destabilizing effects of habituation on the learning dynamics. All three graphs show that cooperative reciprocity eventually obtains, as in the baseline experiment shown in Figure 3.2. However, unlike the earlier experiment, we now see that cooperation soon destabilizes and deteriorates. Consistent with the differences between games that we found in the first experiment, cooperative periods seem to be shortest in PD and cooperation seems to be more stable in Chicken and Stag Hunt. This pattern was confirmed using statistical tests. The dynamics for Chicken also show that in this game the strong punishment for mutual defection serves to suppress habituation in favor of the social costs of failure to exchange. As Figure 3.3 shows, the Chicken dynamics reveal no periods of stable mutual defection, unlike in Stag Hunt or PD, where habituation may make players temporarily immune to the low payoffs associated with the PD outcome. The dynamics of habituation in the learning model resemble the pattern suggested by framing theory, but only to a point. Both models predict that cooperative reciprocity eventually degrades into mutual defection. Moreover, consistent with the second stylized fact we derived from framing theory, this decline seems to be more frequent in 1.00

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PD (but not in the Chicken game) than in the game of Stag Hunt. A clear difference, however, is that, according to framing theory, this decline is irreversible after some point. Learning theory predicts that, after the decline, habituation will lead to increased sensitivity of the players to the rewards associated with mutual cooperation. As a consequence, learning actors have the ability to recover reciprocity even after long periods of exchange failures and even without the possibility to exchange relational signals other than cooperation or defection.

Discussion and Conclusion Both framing theory and learning theory have three important properties that render them attractive as explanations of reciprocity in exchange relations. First, they do not trivialize the problem of opportunism. Second, they take into account individual discretion to deviate from normative obligations or genetic programs. Third, they avoid heroic assumptions about individual cognitive capacities and perfect information. In order to compare the two approaches, we derived from framing theory stylized predictions about the dynamics of reciprocity in repeated 2 × 2 games and compared these to the implications of a computational model of stochastic learning in identical games. We conclude from the results that a simple learning model can explain two key observations about solidarity in ongoing exchanges that are consistent with framing predictions: • stable ongoing reciprocity despite occasional mishaps and moderate rewards for opportunistic behavior; • deterioration of reciprocity relationships as a consequence of strong rewards for opportunism or habituation to the rewards for mutual cooperation. Our analysis also revealed testable differences between the learning model and the framing approach in their predictions about recovery of reciprocity from collapse of mutual cooperation. Although framing suggests that norm violations eventually lead to irreversible collapse, learning theory implies that recovery is possible if the learning rate is sufficiently high. With a low learning rate, however, the learning model also predicts difficulty recovering from the collapse of mutual cooperation. Laboratory experiments are needed to test the relative explanatory power of the two theories as the rates of learning and habituation are manipulated to generate discrepant predictions. Although we have not explored all possible implications of the two theories, we tentatively conclude that learning theory may provide a more parsimonious explanation of the dynamics of ongoing reciprocity, based on elementary principles that remain largely


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implicit in framing theory. Conversely, framing theory addresses explicitly how actors’ perceptions of the exchange situation may shape their initial aspirations and behavioral propensities, a crucial element for relational dynamics that is left exogenous in reinforcement learning. Clearly, each theory may benefit from a more explicit elaboration of those elements that are underspecified in its counterpart.

References Andreoni, J. (1988). Why free ride? Strategies and learning in public goods experiments. Journal of Public Economics, 37, 291–304. Aunger, R. (2001). Darwinizing culture: The status of memetics as a science. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Axelrod, R. (1984). The evolution of cooperation. New York: Basic Books. Bandura, A. (1977). Social learning theory. Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall. Buunk, B.P., and Schaufeli, W.B. (1999). Reciprocity in interpersonal relationships: An evolutionary perspective on its importance for health and well-being. In W. Stroebe and M. Hewstone (Eds.), European review of social psychology (Vol. 10, pp. 259–291). Chichester: Wiley. Coleman, J.S. (1990). Foundations of social theory. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Cosmides, L., and Tooby, J. (1992). Cognitive adaptations for social exchange. In J.L. Barkow, L. Cosmides, and J. Tooby (Eds.), The adapted mind (pp. 163–228). Oxford: Oxford University Press. Davis, D.D., and Holt, C.A. (1993). Experimental economics. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Flache, A., and Macy, M.W. (2002). Stochastic collusion and the power law of learning: A general reinforcement learning model of cooperation. Journal of Conflict Resolution, 46(50), 629–653. Friedman, J.W. (1971). A non-cooperative equilibrium for supergames. Review of Economic Studies, 38, 1–12. Fudenberg, D., and Levine, D. (1998). The theory of learning in games. Boston: MIT Press. Gouldner, A. (1960). The norm of reciprocity: A preliminary statement. American Sociological Review, 25, 161–178. Ligthart, P.E.M. (1995). Solidarity in economic transactions. An experimental study of framing effects in bargaining and contracting. Amsterdam: Thesis Publishers. Lindenberg, S.M. (1988). Contractual relations and weak solidarity: The behavioral basis of restraints on gain maximization. Journal of Institutional and Theoretical Economics, 144, 39–58. Lindenberg, S.M. (1998). Solidarity: Its microfoundations and macro-dependence. A framing approach. In P. Doreian and T.J. Fararo (Eds.), The problem of solidarity: Theories and models (pp. 61–112). Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach. Lindenberg, S.M. (2001). Social rationality versus rational egoism. In J.H. Turner (Ed.), Handbook of sociological theory (pp. 635–668). New York: Kluwer. Macy, M.W. (1991). Learning to cooperate: Stochastic and tacit collusion in social exchange. American Journal of Sociology, 97, 808–843. Macy, M.W., and Flache, A. (2002). Learning dynamics in social dilemmas. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA, May 14, 99(10), 7229–7236. March, J.G., and Simon, H.A. (1958). Organizations. New York: Wiley. Maynard-Smith, J. (1982). Evolution and the theory of games. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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Mühlau, P. (2000). The governance of the employment relation. A relational signaling perspective. Amsterdam: Thela Thesis. Orbell, J.M., and Dawes, R.M. (1991). A “cognitive miser” theory of cooperators’ advantage. American Political Science Review, 85, 515–528. Rapoport, A., and Chammah, A.M. (1965). Prisoner’s dilemma: A study in conflict and cooperation. Ann Arbor: Michigan University Press. Scharpf, F.W. (1990). Games real actors could play. Rationality and Society, 2, 471–494. Simon, H. (1992). Decision making and problem solving. In M. Zey (Ed.), Decision making: Alternatives to rational choice models (pp. 32–53). London: Sage. Sokolov, Y.N. (1963). Perception and the conditioned reflex. Oxford: Pergamon. Thorndike, E.L. (1911). Animal Intelligence. New York: Macmillan.

CHAPTER 4

Perceptions of Prosociality and Solidarity in Self and Others Detlef Fetchenhauer and David Dunning

One of the most robust findings in social psychology is that people perceive themselves to exhibit more solidarity and prosociality than their peers—that, when the time comes, they will act in more generous, altruistic, ethical, and kind ways than will others. In accordance with the wide definition of these terms in Chapter 1 of this book, we will use the terms solidarity and prosociality interchangeably here. People believe they are more likely than others to donate blood (Goethals, 1986), or to give up their seat in a crowded bus to a pregnant woman (Goethals, Messick, and Allison, 1991). In a Prisoner’s Dilemma game, people believe they are much more likely than their peers to cooperate (Epley and Dunning, 2000; Goethals, 1986). When asked to recount how they have treated others fairly in the past, people cite many more actions than when asked to describe how others have acted similarly (Messick, Bloom, Boldizar, and Samuelson, 1985). There is a problem, however, with these assessments, as it is impossible for the typical subject to be more prosocial than the typical subject (except in extremely skewed distributions). Given this logical impossibility, these self-perceptions reveal a systematic bias, which has been called the “better than average” effect or the “uniqueness bias” (as people perceive themselves to be unique in their high level of morality). The “better than average” effect is not restricted to the perception of prosociality. For example, people tend to think of themselves as being more intelligent, attractive, idealistic, disciplined, and sophisticated than others (Alicke, 1985; Dunning, Meyerowitz, and Holzberg, 1989; Hoorens, 1994). Nevertheless, the better than average effect is especially strong with regard to issues of morality and ethics. People may be willing to concede that others are more intelligent, but they are highly reluctant to accept that others are more prosocial than they are (e.g., Allison, Messick, and Goethals, 1989; Van Lange and Sedikides, 1998). 61

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D. Fetchenhauer and D. Dunning

A Motivational Explanation for the Uniqueness Bias Why do people perceive themselves to be more prosocial than others? Most social psychologists who have tried to answer this question rest their explanations on the assumption that people have a strong need or desire to perceive themselves as ethical and fair (Dunning, 2001; Kunda, 1990). As a consequence, people cognitively “arrange” their perceptions to ensure that they can claim to be unfailingly moral and altruistic, whereas others are more suspect. Moral standards are rarely absolute, and thus such arrangements are easily made in the realm of prosocial behavior. One possible way to arrange and ensure self-perceptions of morality is to take care in defining which actions are moral and which are not (Dunning et al., 1989). For example, when a store clerk gives back too much change, is the ethical action to point out the error (and thus to be honest) or to say nothing (because, after all, each of us is ultimately responsible for our own actions)? Each individual is free to define morality in a way that places his or her own actions in the best possible light, emphasizing his or her own habits as central to morality and defining actions not taken as less central. Essential to a motivational account, this tendency to emphasize positive self-attributes such as morality is strengthened after people’s positive views of themselves are called into question through a failure experience. However, after a success experience, people show relatively little tendency to define social traits in self-serving ways (Dunning, Leuenberger, and Sherman, 1995). A person can alter his or her standard of behavior that “counts” as moral or altruistic. For example, when stopped in the street to contribute to Doctors Without Borders, it is clear that the prosocial action is to donate money. But how much money does one have to give in order to be considered generous: One dollar, two, five, fifty? People tend to adopt standards that allow them to claim that they are generous, sometimes exclusively so. For example, a person who gives a dollar can claim that 50 cents counts as generous, whereas a person who gives $50 can claim that no one is generous until he or she has given $45 (Dunning and Cohen, 1992). Once again, critical to a motivational account, people adopt more self-serving standards after a failure experience that calls their self-esteem into question than they do after a success experience (Beauregard and Dunning, 1998). Self-perceptions of moral superiority can also be influenced by how abstractly moral behaviors are interpreted and encoded. For example, if a person helps another up a flight of stairs, is that behavior encoded as being kind (an abstract encoding) or simply as helping a person climb the stairs (a concrete encoding) (Maass, Ceccarelli, and Rudin, 1996)? People tend to encode their own prosocial behaviors

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abstractly, indicating that these behaviors reflect personal traits and character, but describe their antisocial behaviors concretely, thus failing to make any inference about the deeper meaning of these actions. For others, however, people are more likely to encode prosocial behaviors concretely and antisocial behaviors abstractly. For example, I may simply cut in line in front of others, but you are being rude (Taris, 1999). If our own moral actions are encoded in abstract ways that comment positively on our character, whereas our questionable actions remain narrowly defined behaviors, it is clear how perceptions—particularly unrealistic ones—of moral superiority may arise. More recent evidence suggests that similar psychological mechanisms underlie the belief that we are more prosocial than our peers. Ybarra and Stephan (1996) have shown that people tend to remember other people’s behavior in a “misanthropic” manner. They are more likely to recall negative information about the behavior of others if that behavior is attributed to internal causes (i.e., the character of the other person) than if it is attributed to external causes (i.e., situational circumstances). In addition, people are better able to recall positive information about the behavior of others if that behavior was supposed to be attributed to external causes than if it was supposed to be attributed to internal causes. Ybarra (1999) summarized the findings of this research as follows: “People preferentially recall behaviors that cast the target in the most negative light, that is, negative behaviors for which the target is blamed and positive behaviors for which the target is not given credit” (p. 261). In follow-up work, Ybarra (1999) showed directly that this effect of “misanthropic person memory” is at least partly due to people’s motivation to enhance their moral self-image. When participants’ self-esteem was bolstered by giving them positive feedback about their skills in an analogical reasoning task, the misanthropic person memory effect disappeared. It seems that people have a need to perceive others as morally bad to enhance their own self-esteem, and that this bias in others’ perception is no longer apparent if people are given other opportunities to strengthen their own self-esteem. People may also boost their moral self-esteem in other ways. For example, Epley and Dunning (2000) demonstrated in a number of studies that participants systematically overestimated their own future prosociality in a given situation but were remarkably good in predicting the prosociality of others. In a number of studies, they asked the participants about how they intended to behave in situations involving altruistic or ethical behavior, as well as how fellow participants would behave in the same situations. At a later point of time, the participants’ actual behavior was tested in these situations, to see how often people chose the prosocial (solidary) or antisocial (unsolidary) behavioral alternative. For example, in Study 1, they asked the participants whether they would support the American Cancer Society by buying

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a daffodil on a certain weekend five weeks ahead, when such daffodils would be sold on the campus of Cornell University. Three days after daffodil weekend, the participants were asked whether they had actually bought a daffodil. It turned out that the participants had been much too optimistic about their future prosocial behavior. A total of 83% had stated their intention to buy at least one flower, but only 43% indicated actually having done so three days after the weekend. With regard to their fellow students, however, the participants’ reactions were quite accurate. On average, participants guessed that 56% of all the other students would actually buy a daffodil—a value that was not very different from the actual value of 43%. Epley and Dunning (2000) replicated this general pattern of findings across a number of experimental paradigms.

A Cultural Explanation for the Uniqueness Bias Although the major explanations for the distorted perception of others’ solidarity have focused on cognitive and motivational processes, Miller (1999) has argued in favor of a cultural explanation. According to Miller, in Western industrialized countries people are socialized to assume that the selfishness of neoclassical economics is a reasonable guide to behavior both on a descriptive and a prescriptive level: People learn to assume that most others are selfish and that one should be selfish as well. This explanation suggests that a different mechanism is responsible for the better than average effect than is argued by Epley and Dunning (2000). Whereas Epley and Dunning reasoned that people overestimate their own morality but are rather accurate in estimating others’ morality, Miller’s theoretical argument implies that people underestimate others’ morality. Miller and Ratner (1998) have supported this argument with a series of studies. In these studies, participants were asked to express their attitudes or behavioral intentions toward social issues, such as the alcohol policy on the university campus, subsidizing medical research, or restrictions on smoking. With regard to each issue, Miller and Ratner identified two different groups who had divergent vested interests. For example, in one of their studies, they explained to the participants that the National Health Service was conducting research on a disease that causes severe gastrointestinal symptoms. In one version of the experiment, the participants were informed that this disease is only apparent in men, whereas in the other version participants were informed that this disease is only apparent in women. The participants were then asked to write a short essay indicating their attitude toward cutting the budget for research on this disease for the sake of a nationwide campaign to increase the use of seatbelts by car drivers. The participants were told that as a result of


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cutting the budget for research on this disease by 75%, a medicine to heal it would only be available within 6 or 7 years. If the subsidies were not decreased, however, such a medicine would be available in 2 years. The participants were asked whether they were for or against a cut in the research budget and whether they would be willing to hand in their stated attitudes for use in a campaign to prevent cuts in the research budget. In line with Miller’s (1999) theoretical argument, the participants’ attitudes were not significantly influenced by their own gender (i.e., their own vested interest in the matter). However, the respondents thought that the other participants in the study would be influenced strongly by their own interest in the issue. That is, in their preferences, respondents showed no tendency toward selfishness (i.e., stating that they favored the research only when it would benefit their own gender). However, most presumed that such selfishness would pervade the preferences of others.

A Functional Approach to the Perception of Others’ Solidarity A different perspective on the estimation of others’ prosociality focuses on the functions of such judgments. Such a perspective aims at determining how people’s behavior is guided by the predictions they make about others, particularly those they interact with. Suppose you, the reader, were to participate in an experiment where you have to divide money between yourself and another person. You do not know who this other person is and will never get to know him or her—all communications with this other person take place solely via the experimenter. One person (Person A) gets $7.50 from the experimenter. She has two options. She can either keep the $7.50 for herself, in which case the other person (Person B) gets nothing, or she can give the $7.50 to Person B. In this case, the experimenter adds another $22.50 so that Person B gets $30 in total. With this $30, Person B has two options. He or she can either keep $30 and give nothing to Person A, or he or she can keep $15 and give $15 to Person A. You and the other person are randomly assigned to the positions of Persons A and B in this situation. If you were in the position of Person A, would you give your $7.50 to Person B or would you keep it for yourself? If you were in the position of Person B and had to divide $30 between yourself and Person A, would you keep the $30 for yourself or would you give half of it to Person A? When this experiment was conducted with a group of American and Dutch undergraduates, how do you think they behaved—how many of those in the position of Person B do you think kept the $30 for themselves? Before you continue reading this chapter, we would like you to write down your answers to these questions on a piece of paper. We will come back to this issue below.

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In the behavioral economics literature, the experimental paradigm outlined above is called a trust game (Snijders and Keren, 2001). If Person A trusts Person B, and if Person B shares the $30 evenly, it is rational (i.e., money maximizing) for Person A to give the money to Person B (as $15 is more than $7.50). However, if Person B keeps all the money for him- or herself, Person A ends up with nothing and would have made a better choice if he or she had kept the money. At first glance the trust game may appear artificial. However, it grasps a very ordinary situation: It is common for a person to have the choice of interacting with another person in a way that might be to his or her benefit, and to the benefit of the other person. However, choosing to interact carries some risks. The person must expose him- or herself to potential losses if the other person does not act in a solidary way, that is, if the other person fails to be fair, honest, and trustworthy in his or her treatment of the first person. For example, a business partnership can be very profitable, assuming one’s partners are as competent and trustworthy as they portray themselves to be. Collaboration with another person (on a book, for example, or an invention, or even a baby) can be very rewarding if the other person acts in a prosocial and cooperative way. However, to the extent that the other person is dishonest or selfish, entering into a situation of mutual interdependence can be quite costly, whether the cost is in financial, social, or psychological terms. Thus, a valid perception of others’ solidarity and trustworthiness is essential in many areas of life. There are various ways in which individuals may assess the trustworthiness of others. First, in many situations, we have an ongoing relationship with an interaction partner whom we may or may not trust (e.g., a person has been working for a certain employer for a long time). In such cases, we use the experiences that we have had with this person as a cue for his or her future behavior. In doing so, we use not only our past experiences with that person, but also our common future with that person as a cue to his or her trustworthiness (i.e., the longer we expect our relationship to last in the future, the more willing we are to trust a person). Second, if we have not interacted with a person before, we try to find some external information about the person or organization. For example, employers regularly phone the former employers of applicants to get some information about their reliability. Third, when we do not even have this kind of information, we may ground our judgment on our first impressions of the person. For example, many buyer-seller interactions rest on the buyer’s perception that he or she is able to judge intuitively the trustworthiness of the seller. Such intuitions are especially important if the seller is not able to give any credible and enforceable guarantees for his or her product. A study by Frank, Gilovich, and Regan (1993) shows that people’s intuitions and first impressions of others may not be so bad after all. They gave


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their participants 30 minutes to become acquainted with each other. Afterward, the subjects were separated and had to play a Prisoner’s Dilemma game with each other. Besides making their own decisions, they were asked to guess how their interaction partners would behave in the same situation. Frank et al. showed that, although their predictions were far from perfect, the subjects were able to predict their fellow participants’ behavior significantly better than if the predictions had been based on chance. However, what should one do if there is no information at all about an interaction partner? In such situations, decisions are especially difficult when it is not in the interaction partner’s own best interests to cooperate. For example, in the trust game, any purely self-interested Person B will simply take all the money given to her and walk away. In such an interaction under conditions of total anonymity, Person B does not profit in any way from splitting the money evenly between him- or herself and Person A. To translate this thought into the terms of the framing theory outlined in Chapters 1 and 2 of this book, it is only reasonable for Person A to give her money to Person B if she assumes that Person B is in a normative frame, but not in a gain (or hedonic) frame. If Person B uses a normative frame, it is highly probable that she will split the money evenly, because the rules of distributive justice and the rules of reciprocity will tell her to do so. According to Lindenberg’s framing theory (see Lindenberg, this volume), the perceived likelihood with which Person A expects Person B to use a normative frame depends on Person A’s mental model of the social relation. People differ substantially in their own behavior as well as in their predictions of other’s behavior if they perceive the situation of a trust game mainly as cooperation or mainly as competition. When a person does not have any specific information about an interaction partner, it can be argued that the person takes his or her own putative behavior in the position of the interaction partner as a guide to how the other person will behave. Technically speaking, it can be expected that people reveal a strong consensus effect when asked to predict the trustworthiness of others (Ross, Green, and House, 1977). A number of studies have shown that this is the case. For example, in Fetchenhauer and Dunning (2005), the subjects were asked to indicate their behavior as Person B in a trust game, and were also asked to estimate the percentage of their fellow participants who would act in the same way in the situation of Person B. Both the subjects who decided to keep all the money for themselves and the subjects who decided to split the money evenly between themselves and Person A thought that a majority of the other participants would make the same choice as they did. In addition, there was a strong correlation between subjects’ behavior as Person A and as Person B. Subjects who were trustworthy themselves were much more trustful than subjects who were not trustworthy (i.e., who kept all the

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money when they were in the position of Person B). In a number of studies, Fetchenhauer and Buunk (2003) showed that subjects reveal such consensus effects not only in trust games, but also in a variety of other game-theoretical paradigms. What can such a functional approach tell us about the uniqueness bias and the better than average effect? At first glance, one might argue that people should try to estimate others’ solidarity as accurately as possible and that, therefore, no systematic bias should occur. However, from an evolutionary perspective, the ultimate goal of social perception is not accuracy but adaptiveness (Krebs and Denton, 1997). That is, predictions are beneficial not when they are most accurate but rather when they lead to the most beneficial behavior. A wrong prediction that leads to adaptive behavior is much better than an accurate prediction that leads to potentially harmful consequences. This idea was recently elaborated by Haselton and Buss (2000; Haselton, Nettle, and Andrews, 2005) in their error management theory (EMT). According to this theory, in many situations, people can make two different kinds of mistakes. They can either perceive an attribute that does not exist, or they can ignore an attribute that is present. Using the example of males’ perceptions of women’s sexual interest, Haselton and Buss showed that these two mistakes often differ in their harmfulness. If, for instance, a male overestimates a female’s sexual interest in him this might lead to a rejection of his offer, a consequence that does not appear to be very costly in terms of evolutionary currency. However, if a man underestimates a women’s sexual interest, this might lead to a missed chance of sexual intercourse and, thus, to a missed chance of reproduction, a consequence that is quite negative from an evolutionary point of view. Following this line of reasoning, Haselton and Buss argued that throughout the course of human evolution, males have developed a systematic tendency to overestimate women’s sexual intentions, an effect that has actually been identified in a number of studies (e.g., Abbey, 1982, 1987). Transferring EMT to the issue of estimating others’ solidarity, one could argue as follows: If people have to judge others as trustworthy or not, they can make two different kinds of mistakes. On the one hand, they can distrust a person who can be trusted. On the other hand, they can trust a person whose intentions are harmful (i.e., who should be distrusted). Both mistakes differ in their harmfulness. The most extreme negative consequence of distrusting a person who can be trusted is a missed chance for cooperation, but one lives to cooperate another day. However, the most extreme consequence of trusting a person who is not trustworthy is a massive loss of one’s own resources or possibly even the loss of one’s life. Therefore, it seems plausible that throughout the course of evolution, humans evolved a tendency to underestimate others’ level of prosociality because the negative


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consequences of such a mistake are less severe than the consequences of overestimating others’ morality. To test these predictions, the first author used a number of different game-theoretical paradigms in which people have to divide money between themselves and another person. In a variety of different samples (student samples versus a sample of the general population traveling by train in the Netherlands), subjects had to indicate their own decisions and estimate the decisions of their fellow participants in the same situation. The participants consistently tended to underestimate the morality of the other participants (note that in these studies, the participants did not have to estimate or predict their own decisions as they made their decisions for real). Similar results were obtained as when using the trust game discussed above (Fetchenhauer and Dunning, 2005). For example, a sample of 45 psychology undergraduates at the University of Groningen (the Netherlands) played this trust game. Each was given 7.50 euros (about U.S.$9) for participating in another experiment and was then given the choice of either keeping the 7.50 euros or giving the money to another person, who would be in the position of Person B. The participants were told that, in this case, Person B would have 30 euros in total that she was to divide between herself and Person A (giving either 15 euros or nothing to Person A). The participants were informed that a chance mechanism would be used to put them either in the position of Person A or in the position of Person B. They then had to indicate how they would behave as Person A and as Person B. Most participants acted in prosocial and unselfish ways. In the position of Person B, 84% of all the participants chose to give half of their money to Person A, whereas only 16% indicated that they would keep all the money for themselves. However, this high level of prosocial behavior was not anticipated by their peers. On average, participants in the position of Person A thought that 43% of people in the position of Person B would choose the “unfair” option and keep all the money, leaving Person A with nothing. The reader can reflect on his or her own estimate of the percentage of Persons B who would choose to split the $30. In sum, it may be said that, in their estimations of others’ behavior, people reveal both a strong consensus effect (i.e., they think that others act in approximately the same way as themselves) and a tendency to perceive themselves as more prosocial than others. These two biases may be elements of a simple heuristic that people use when estimating others’ prosociality: they use their own behavior in a given situation as a starting point and subtract a certain value to derive an estimation of the others’ behavior: Estimated degree of others’ prosociality = own level of prosociality minus X. This heuristic can be called the “I am more prosocial than average” heuristic. It should be emphasized that no

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external information is needed to use this heuristic. The only value that has to be known is one’s own behavior. Thus, the “I am more prosocial than average” heuristic is a good example of a “fast and frugal” heuristic that can be used with a minimum amount of information and computation (Gigerenzer and Goldstein, 1996; Todd and Gigerenzer, 2000). The use of other heuristics that can be used as easily as the “I am more prosocial than average” heuristic would imply presuming that all other people are generally good (which could be called a “philanthropy heuristic”) or generally bad (which could be called a “misanthropy heuristic”). However, if people always used a philanthropy heuristic, they could easily be exploited by others. On the other hand, if people constantly applied a misanthropy heuristic, they would often forgo the chance to cooperate with others in situations where—on average—it pays to trust one’s interaction partners. Kramer (1998) has pointed out that many people tend to engage in paranoid cognitions (i.e., are overly suspicious about the trustworthiness of others). According to Kramer, the more people perceive themselves as being distinct from members of a reference group (i.e., perceive themselves as outsiders), the more they regard themselves as under evaluative scrutiny by others, and the less certain they are about their social standing within their group, the stronger this paranoia is. Put differently, the higher a person’s level of vulnerability, the more paranoid (i.e., skeptical) about others he or she is. From an evolutionary perspective, such behavior makes sense because under conditions of high vulnerability people are well advised to watch their social environment carefully. From such a perspective, it is understandable that the better than average effect is stronger with regard to aspects of prosociality than with regard to aspects of cognitive skills (e.g., intelligence). Indeed, from an evolutionary point of view, there is no use in underestimating others’ intelligence, whereas, as outlined above, underestimating others’ trustworthiness helps people to avoid making costly mistakes.

Summary and Outlook We reviewed three different perspectives on how people estimate the solidarity and prosociality of others and why most people think they are more prosocial than others. According to the motivational perspective, the perception of others’ prosociality is mainly driven by the desire to bolster or to protect one’s moral self-esteem. Perceiving oneself to be “holier than thou” is one way to achieve such a goal (Epley and Dunning, 2000). According to the cultural explanation offered by Miller (1999), people in Western societies are socialized to regard selfishness as a cultural norm and, therefore, tend to underestimate others’ solidarity. According to the evolutionary explanation, the perception


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of others’ prosociality mainly has the function of helping us to make good and wise decisions. One heuristic that serves such a function is the “I am more prosocial than average” heuristic, which implies a systematic bias in underestimating others’ prosociality. In addition to their theoretical differences, the studies that we discussed above seem to have contradictory results. The findings of research by Epling and Dunning (2000) suggest that people are surprisingly accurate in predicting the behavior of others but systematically overestimate their own prosociality, while in the research by Fetchenhauer and Dunning (2005), people seemed to underestimate systematically the trustworthiness of others. These seemingly contradictory results may be due to one decisive methodological difference: the timing of the questions put to participants. In the studies by Fetchenhauer and Dunning, participants were asked about their own behavior and the behavior of their fellow participants at the same time. In contrast, participants in the Epley and Dunning (2000) studies were asked how they and others would behave in a certain situation in the future. At a later point of time, behavioral measures were taken from a different sample of participants. We would argue that the Epley and Dunning (2000) studies reveal the influence of two different biases that may have canceled each other out. On the one hand, the participants perceived themselves to be more ethical than others (decreasing their estimates of others’ solidarity). On the other hand, they were too optimistic about their own future solidarity. As one’s own behavior and one’s estimations of others’ behavior are closely linked, this effect increased the participants’ estimates of others’ solidarity. This counterbalancing effect of two different biases can be illustrated with the following example. Suppose a sample of social scientists were asked how many articles they were going to publish next year and how many articles their colleagues were going to publish. Assume that, on average, the scientists participating in this study expect to publish three articles whereas they expect the average other scientist to publish only two (thus allowing the typical scientist to think he or she is more productive than the average scientist). If it turned out that the actual number of articles published was indeed about two per year, would this indicate that scientists are really able to judge their colleagues’ productivity accurately? Such a result may be due to two countervailing biases working at the same time: a tendency to be too optimistic about one’s own scientific output (a self-productivity bias) and a perception of oneself as better than average (an “I’m more productive than average” bias). In a similar vein, it seems reasonable to assume that the participants of the Epley and Dunning studies were subject to two biases at the same time: being too optimistic about their own future solidarity and perceiving themselves to be morally better than others.

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The question remains which motivational or cognitive forces drive people to perceive themselves to be “holier than thou.” We argue that all three explanations outlined above follow a sound reasoning and rest on substantial empirical evidence. Future researchers could address more specifically the validity of these different explanations by examining if the bias is attenuated under the conditions specified by each explanation. For example, if Miller’s argument is valid, the uniqueness bias should disappear (or should at least be smaller) in non-Western countries. Indirect support for this assumption comes from studies by Heine, Lehman, Markus, and Kitayama (1999), who showed that Japanese people do reveal a lower need for self-enhancement than Americans. To our knowledge, however, no studies have been conducted in which cross-cultural differences in the degree to which people perceive themselves to be more prosocial than average were specifically tested. If such differences could be demonstrated, the cultural explanation by Miller would gain empirical support, whereas the functional explanation would lose such support. To give another example of possible future research, researchers might experimentally vary subjects’ moral self-esteem and measure whether these conditions influence the degree to which the subjects perceive themselves to be morally superior to others. According to a motivational line of reasoning, the better than average effect should decline if subjects’ self-esteem has been boosted and increase when it has been threatened, whereas according to an evolutionary explanation, people’s estimations of others’ prosociality should be independent of the experimental manipulation of subjects’ self-esteem. Until such studies are conducted, it is difficult to tell which theoretical perspective can really explain why people are systematically biased in their perceptions of others’ prosociality. However, that most people think they are more ethical than others is a very robust finding of research in the past three decades. Social scientists should be aware that they personally may be prone to the same biases when they are formulating their theories about human solidarity. This may be especially true for rational choice theorists or economists, who sometimes assume that all people are basically selfish all the time.

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Allison, S.T., Messick, D.M., and Goethals, G.R. (1989). On being better but not smarter than others: The Muhammad Ali effect. Social Cognition, 7, 275–296. Beauregard, K.S., and Dunning, D. (1998). Turning up the contrast: Self-enhancement motives prompt egocentric contrast effects in social judgments. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 606–621. Dunning, D. (2001). On the motives underlying social cognition. In N. Schwarz and A. Tesser (Eds.), Blackwell handbook of social psychology. Volume 1: Intraindividual processes (pp. 348–374). New York: Blackwell. Dunning, D., and Cohen, G.L. (1992). Egocentric definitions of traits and abilities in social judgment. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 63, 341–355. Dunning, D., Leuenberger, A., and Sherman, D.A. (1995). A new look at motivated inference: Are self-serving theories of success a product of motivational forces? Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 59, 58–68. Dunning, D., Meyerowitz, J.A., and Holzberg, A.D. (1989). Ambiguity and self-evaluation: The role of idiosyncratic trait definitions in self-serving assessments of ability. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 57, 1082–1090. Epley, N., and Dunning, D. (2000). Feeling “holier than thou”: Are self-serving assessments produced by errors in self- or in social prediction? Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 79, 861–875. Fetchenhauer, D., and Buunk, B.P. (2003). How do people estimate others’ prosociality and others’ revengefulness? Unpublished manuscript, University of Groningen, the Netherlands. Fetchenhauer, D., and Dunning, D. (2005). Do people trust too much or do people trust too little? Unpublished manuscript. Frank, R.G., Gilovich, T., and Regan, D. (1993). The evolution of one-shot cooperation: An experiment. Ethology and Sociobiology, 14, 247–256. Gigerenzer, G., and Goldstein, D.G. (1996). Reasoning the fast and frugal way: Models of bounded rationality. Psychological Review, 103, 650–669. Goethals, G.R. (1986). Fabricating and ignoring social reality: Self-serving estimates of consensus. In J.M. Olson, C.P. Herrmann, and M.P. Zanna (Eds.), Relative deprivation and social comparison. The Ontario Symposium (Vol. 4, pp. 135–157). Hillsdale N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum. Goethals, G.R., Messick, D.W., and Allison, S.T. (1991). The uniqueness bias: Studies of constructive social comparison. In J.M. Suls and T.A. Wills (Eds.), Social comparison. Contemporary theory and research (pp. 149–173). Hillsdale, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum. Haselton, M.G., and Buss, D.M. (2000). Error management theory: A new perspective on biases in cross-sex mind reading. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 78, 81–91. Haselton, M., Nettle, D., and Andrews, P.W. (2005). The evolution of cognitive bias. In D. Buss (Ed.), The evolutionary psychology handbook. New York: Wiley. Heine, S.J., Lehman, D.R., Markus, H.R., and Kitayama, S. (1999). Is there a universal need for positive self-regard? Psychological Review, 106, 766–794. Hoorens, V. (1994). Unrealistic optimism in health and safety risks. In L. Quine and D.R. Rutter (Eds.), Social psychology and health: European perspectives (pp. 153–174). Brookfield, Vt.: Avebury/Ashgate. Kramer, R.M. (1998). Paranoid cognition in social systems. Thinking and acting in the shadow of doubt. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 2, 251–275. Krebs, D.L., and Denton, K. (1997). Social illusions and self-deceptions: The evolution of biases in person perception. In J.A. Simpson and D.T. Kenrick (Eds.), Evolutionary social psychology (pp. 21–48). Mahwah, N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum. Kunda, Z. (1990). The case for motivated reasoning. Psychological Bulletin, 108, 480–498. Maass, A., Ceccarelli, R., and Rudin, S. (1996). Linguistic intergroup bias: Evidence for in-group-protective motivation. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 71, 512–526.

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Messick, D.M., Bloom, S., Boldizar, J.P., and Samuelson, C.D. (1985). Why we are fairer than others. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 21, 480–500. Miller, D.T. (1999). The norm of self-interest. American Psychologist, 54, 1053–1060. Miller, D.T., and Ratner, R.K. (1998). The disparity between the actual and assumed power of self-interest. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 53–62. Ross, L., Green, D., and House, P. (1977). The false consensus effect: An egocentric bias in social perception and attributional processes. Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, 13, 279–301. Snijders, C., and Keren, G. (2001). Do you trust? Whom do you trust? When do you trust? Advances in Group Processes, 18, 129–160. Taris, T.W. (1999). Describing behaviors of self and others: Self-enhancing beliefs and language abstraction level. European Journal of Social Psychology, 29, 391–396. Todd, P.M., and Gigerenzer, G. (2000). Precis of simple heuristics that make us smart. Behavioral and Brain Sciences, 23, 727–780. Van Lange, P.A.M., and Sedikides, C. (1998). Being more honest but not necessarily more intelligent than other: Generality and explanations for the Muhammad Ali effect. European Journal of Social Psychology, 28, 675–680. Ybarra, O. (1999). Misanthropic person memory when the need to self-enhance is absent. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 25, 261–269. Ybarra, O., and Stephan, W.G. (1996). Misanthropic person memory. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 70, 691–700.

CHAPTER 5

Personality and Solidary Behavior Karen van der Zee and Marco Perugini

Why is it that some children in the classroom are always willing to help a classmate who has difficulties with math or to bring homework to a child who is ill? Why is it that some individuals cannot resist the temptation to take paper, pencils, or floppy disks home from the office, or to make private phone calls at work, whereas others never do? Why is it that some colleagues are always striving to maximize their own outcomes, whereas others mostly try to gain benefits for others? In this chapter, we aim to shed light upon personality determinants of solidary behavior. In general, personality is a pattern of relatively stable traits, characteristics of the individual that give some consistency to that person’s behavior (e.g., Feist and Feist, 1998). This pattern of traits is different for each individual. Prosocial dispositions refer to specific tendencies and abilities individuals have to suppress their own antisocial behavior, or to strengthen their own solidary behavior. As the examples show, they refer to the ability to suppress aggression in the face of conflict, to empathize and identify with others, and to express affection. Such dispositions can be viewed as relatively stable latent characteristics of individuals. We aimed to integrate a personality approach with a framing perspective. According to framing theory (see Lindenberg, this volume), dominant goals drive cognitive processes in which certain categories, beliefs, and attitudes become more accessible and others less accessible (i.e., they are pushed into the cognitive background), sensitivity increases for certain cues and decreases for other cues, and certain behavioral alternatives become more salient whereas others becomes less salient. As we will argue below, personality influences the ease with which a particular frame is mobilized in a given situation, and traits are also likely to play an important role in determining different behavioral patterns within a frame, especially by influencing sensitivity to certain cues. For example, personality traits may make a person more sensitive to reward or to punishment, leading to different kinds of behavior within the same frame. Personality is also likely to have an influence on the mental models that guide behavior within a frame; we will deal explicitly with 77

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this aspect below. A combination of personality theory and framing theory shows that quite different personality dimensions can promote solidary behavior, depending on the specific features of the interaction. A view of personality dimensions as influencing the basic cognitive processes that define or frame an action situation has been elaborated for dimensions such as aggression (Crick and Dodge, 1994), cooperation, competition, and individualism (McClintock and Liebrand, 1988), reciprocity (Gallucci and Perugini, 2003), and anxiety (Eysenck, 1992), and also seems to hold for other personality dimensions. Take, for instance, the case of aggression. Crick and Dodge (1994) developed a social-information-processing model, assuming that children high in aggression encode and interpret both internal and external cues differently from children low in aggression. They are less capable of recognizing social stimuli and rely strongly on their own prejudices rather than on observable characteristics of the situation. Moreover, they are more likely to attribute hostile intentions to others. Such influences of personality on cognitive processes are likely to combine with their influences on dominant goals, leading to the three master frames (hedonic, gain, and normative frames) suggested by Lindenberg (this volume). For example, extroversion has been linked to a tendency to seek pleasure (hedonic frame). Thus, extroverted persons are more likely to frame situations in terms of opportunities to gain pleasure. On the highway, they are thus more likely to disregard cues that signal slow driving because of danger, and more likely to focus on cues that promote fast driving, such as an empty road or having a fast car. A perspective that relies on dominant goals (and master frames) that are linked to main personality traits may help us to understand why people act as they do, and is more parsimonious than focusing on personality influences on specific goals in specific situations (Roberts and Robin, 2000). We focused mainly on personality influences on framing and on mental models of social relationships that are relevant for solidary behavior. Although the process view of personality adopted here has not dominated the literature of personality relevant to solidary behavior, and although there are few examples of empirical testing of these cognitive processes, we interpreted some of the empirical results accordingly. First, we will briefly present the Big Five model of personality in order to introduce the basic structure of the personality dimensions used in much of the literature reviewed in this chapter.

The Big Five The past 20 years have seen important developments in the field of personality psychology. A general consensus has gradually emerged on a taxonomy of five basic personality factors, the so-called Big Five

5: Personality and Solidary Behavior

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(Digman, 1990; Goldberg, 1993): (1) extroversion, (2) agreeableness, (3) conscientiousness, (4) emotional stability, and (5) intellect/autonomy (Goldberg, 1993), also referred to as “openness to experience” (Costa and McCrae, 1992). Table 5.1 presents a description of each dimension, as well as more specific personality dimensions that can be related directly to the Big Five dimensions (facets). The five factors have been confirmed in several studies carried out in dozens of countries (Saucier, Hampson, and Goldberg, 2000). The individual relative rankings in scores on the five factors have also been found to be remarkably stable in adulthood (McCrae et al., 2000). The consensus reached on this basic structure has caused a flourishing of research within the field and has facilitated the accumulation of results in a systematic body of knowledge. In fact, the Big Five can be thought of as the best-working hypothesis of a crossculturally valid personality structure at a broader level of abstraction. Most specific and narrower personality dimensions can be understood within the Big Five framework (Goldberg, 1999). In addition, in recent TABLE 5.1. Description of the Big Five.

Factor 1. Extroversion

2. Agreeableness

3. Conscientiousness

Description (Costa and McCrae, 1985) Preference for company, sensation and stimulation, assertiveness, activity, optimism, cheerfulness Altruism, sympathy, warmth, trustfulness, helpfulness, forgiveness, sincerity, willingness to help others Perseverance, conciseness, goaldirectness, being wellorganized, reliability

4. Neuroticism

Anxiety, nervousness, anger, sadness, hostility

5. Openness to experience

Curiosity, broad interest, creativity, originality, imagination

Examples of facets (Costa and McCrae, 1992; Goldberg, 1999; Johnson and Ostendorf, 1993) Assertiveness, activity, excitement seeking, sociability, positive emotions, gregariousness, leadership Trust, altruism, compliance, modesty, tender-mindedness, sympathy, empathy

Self-efficacy, deliberation, dutifulness, competence, achievement striving, orderliness, rule abiding Angry hostility, impulsiveness, anxiety, depression, self-consciousness, vulnerability, imperturbability Values, ideas, fantasy, creativity, actions, feelings, reflection

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psycholexical studies in several languages, a sixth and separate honesty factor in addition to the Big Five has been discovered that seems particularly relevant to solidary behavior (Ashton et al., 2004). This factor has been given names such as integrity, trustworthiness, truthfulness, and values (Ashton and Lee, 2001). Although in our general approach we focused on the Big Five, we also considered both the sixth factor and additional specific dimensions where it was deemed necessary.

Personality and Cognitive Frames From childhood, human beings are socialized with behavioral rules. We learn that we have to stop for a red traffic light, that we have to respect other people’s belongings, and that as a guest in another person’s house we cannot simply walk to the refrigerator and take food. For many people, such norms become internalized and sticking to the rules does not involve suppressing undesirable tendencies all the time. These people have developed internal self-reinforcing (e.g., moral) principles that guide their behavior and that give them a positive sense of self. Others, however, tend to be more strongly guided by hedonic or gain frames, and control mechanisms keep them within the limits of what is regarded as acceptable behavior. Below, we will provide more insight into the background of patterns of solidary behavior by linking personality to the three master frames that seem to guide solidary behavior. It is assumed that whether individuals follow norms in a normative frame (that is, because in that situation they are driven by the goal to behave appropriately), whether they follow norms in a hedonic frame (that is, for fear of direct sanctions that would make them feel bad), or whether they follow norms in a gain frame (because they are driven to exploit others for their own advantage) depends upon their personalities. A normative frame is characterized by a strong desire to act appropriately. In group psychology, a distinction is traditionally made between internalization and mere compliance (Allen, 1965) or selfcontrol, with the latter being an outcome mainly of normative influences (Deutsch and Gerard, 1955). Particularly conscientiousness has been associated with the salience of a normative frame, displayed by an internalized tendency to comply with rules and moral standards. Among highly conscientious individuals, compliance is driven by an intrinsic need to achieve and to reach their purposes. In other words, their prosocial behavior is primarily driven by the task they want to accomplish. Facets such as dutifulness (Costa and McCrae, 1992) and rule abiding (Johnson and Ostendorf, 1993) appear especially central in this respect. John and Srivastava (1999) define conscientiousness in terms of “behaviors” such as thinking before acting and


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delay of gratification. In terms of framing, this may be interpreted as hedonic or gain-oriented goals being pushed into the background (thus an increase in delay of gratification). In this regard, conscientiousness has been linked to the temperamental dimension of effortful control (Rothbart, Ahadi, and Evans, 2000), which plays a major role in the effective socialization of children (Kochanska, Murray, and Coy, 1997; Rothbart, Ahadi, and Hershey, 1994). Psychobiological models link effortful control to the anterior attention network that involves areas of the midprefrontal cortex (Posner and Raichle, 1994; Posner and Rothbart, 1998). The network is active during conflict situations in which a dominant response must be inhibited to perform a subdominant response. Children who are able to delay gratification resort to strategies such as attention deployment, whereby attention is allocated away from the tempting stimulus (Rodriguez, Mischel, and Shoda, 1989). The opposite pole of conscientiousness is associated with a lack of control (doing things that are out of bounds, playing with fire). For example, Heaven (1996) found a significant negative relation between the conscientiousness facet of self-discipline and vandalism/theft. In a similar vein, Verplanken and Herabadi (2001) report a negative relationship between conscientiousness and impulse buying. When acting as a control system, conscientiousness seems to suppress antisocial tendencies that are linked to other traits. Neuroticism is associated with an enhanced sensitivity to reinforcing events, which causes people high in neuroticism to react strongly to several kinds of events. Whether this sensitivity results in controlled (and thus also conforming) or uncontrolled behavior depends on the position of individuals high in neuroticism on the introversion-extroversion continuum. In this sense, these personality traits allow a more detailed analysis of behavioral patterns within a hedonic frame. A hedonic frame is indicated by the goal to feel better or to improve the way one feels. Extroversion is related to sensitivity to reward or pleasure. Increasing degrees of extroversion represent increasing sensitivity to reward. A high sensitivity to cues that signal reward makes it hard to withstand temptation. Not surprisingly, uncontrolled risk-taking behaviors (gambling, adultery, reckless driving) are strongly related to extroversion. A study by Verplanken and Herabadi (2001) revealed a positive relation between extroversion and impulse buying. Neuroticism has been associated with uncontrolled emotional outbursts and with violence. The neurotic-extroverted person is highly impulsive and inclined to engage in uncontrolled behavior and disobey rules. Consider, for example, reckless driving in a fast car. Impulsiveness, activity, and emotionality are important dimensions here (e.g., Buss and Plomin, 1975), and antisocial behavior seems to be associated with these dimensions. At the other end of the introversionextroversion continuum, neurotic-introverted (anxious) individuals

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are sensitive to signals of punishment. Their main goal is to prevent pain or loss. Conscious failure to declare sources of personal income on their tax forms, for example, leaves anxious individuals worried to death about the kinds of checks the Internal Revenue Service could possibly perform and about the prospects of being caught. The thought of the concomitant distress is already enough for them to refrain from taking the risk. Neurotic-introverts in general display more control in their behavior. People low in conscientiousness and high in neuroticism and introversion are thus likely to comply when detection of deviance is likely (rule-compliance through regulation of feelings) or when there is (potentially punishing) interpersonal competition (Graziano, Feldesman, and Rahe, 1985; Norman and Watson, 1976). By contrast, people high in conscientiousness and low in neuroticism are likely to follow rules because, for them, the desire to act appropriately is easily evoked (a normative frame) and they are not very sensitive to the presence or absence of sanctions. Conscientiousness refers mainly to self-control, and it may support a normative frame by weakening the power of hedonic goals. However, when conscientiousness is accompanied by low agreeableness, a person is more likely to emphasize selfish needs and wants, and, therefore, more likely to be in a gain frame (which is governed by the dominant goal to improve one’s resources). The self-control allows the extensive use of calculativeness and cunning. A clear example is the narcissistic personality, which is driven by the desire to exploit others rather than help them. This type is characterized by an overblown sense of selfimportance, requiring constant attention, making individuals more likely to exploit others. He or she expects others to do special not-to-bereciprocated favors for them. The exploitation of others is one of the signature characteristics of the opposite pole of concern for others (low agreeableness), and it has also been suggested that this can be regarded as the negative pole of honesty. Machiavellianism can be described as a dispositional tendency to manipulate and exploit others, to be opportunistic and rational, and to pursue self-interest (Christie and Geis, 1968, 1970). Studies within the paradigm of social dilemma games have shown that whereas high Machs tend to be competitive and opportunistically exploit others, low Machs are broadly more cooperative and are more likely to pursue fairness norms (e.g., Wilson, Near, and Miller, 1996). There are situations, however, in which even people in a gain frame exhibit solidary behavior. If there is a sufficient number of repeated interactions, a fairly high value put on future events, and certain incentives, then even people who calculate only their own interest will cooperate (Komorita, Parks, and Hulbert, 1992; Kreps, Milgrom, Roberts, and Wilson, 1982). The prominent place of emotions and self-control linked to the distinction between a hedonic frame, on the one hand, and normative


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and gain frames, on the other hand, is also compatible with Metcalfe and Michel’s (1999) notion of willpower and delay of gratification in terms of the interaction between a hot emotional system (akin to a hedonic frame) and a cool cognitive system (characteristic of a normative and a gain frame). The emotionally driven “hot system” can also be recognized in the literature on temperament systems (e.g., Buss and Plomin, 1975). Self-regulatory skills and strategies and some situational factors are argued to shift the balance toward the cool system, allowing for easier suppression of behaviors that are cognitively undesirable (inappropriate, or inefficient) even though they are emotionally gratifying (i.e., desirable in a hedonic frame).

Personality and Mental Models of Social Relationships Suppose someone is late for a movie, and while rushing to the cinema the individual sees an elderly lady fall in the street? What would be the person’s first inclination: To try to catch the film on time or help the lady? In the previous section, we dealt with situations in which solidary behavior referred not to direct social interactions, but rather to acts for the benefit of general society or groups within society. Driving too fast, dumping garbage, and failing to pay taxes, for example, all affect the well-being of other people, but they do not involve direct social interactions. In interpersonal situations, of course, there are internalized norms of how to act in interaction with other persons, and there are temptations as well as control needs. It is tempting to keep on running to avoid missing part of the film, but this is clearly not what one ought to do. Conscientiousness presumably plays an important role here, because it makes it easier to suppress the temptation to give in to immediate gratification. In addition to that, however, specific traits are linked to the goals that people strive for in their relationships with others and these goals are likely to affect the mental model that is mobilized along with a particular frame. A strong orientation toward the welfare of others is likely to change the way people see their relations to others. Once a person is in a normative frame, he or she will aim to act appropriately. But there are many different ways in which one may act appropriately. Take the example given at the start of this section. The cinema-goer may help by checking that the woman is all right, and, if necessary, by calling an ambulance. Or the person could comfort the elderly lady and use a jacket to keep her warm. For such a person, interactions become an opportunity to care for the other and for his or her welfare (Clark, Mills, and Powell, 1986), to take the other’s perspective (Batson, 1990), and to contribute to the common good (Van Lange, 1999). In terms of the Big Five, a glance at Table 5.1 shows agreeableness to be the most

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important trait underlying such concern for others. Agreeableness contrasts a prosocial and communal orientation toward others with antagonism (John and Srivastava, 1999). This factor contains trait terms such as empathy, attachment, altruism, tender-mindedness, trust, morality, altruism, cooperation, understanding, and sympathy (e.g., Costa and McCrae, 1992; Goldberg, 1999; Hofstee, De Raad, and Goldberg, 1992). Empirical evidence from studies on social dilemmas shows that agreeableness is associated with indicators of altruism (e.g., Ashton, Paunonen, Helmes, and Jackson, 1998). Agreeable persons are likely to help, being motivated to maintain positive relations with others. This motivation has been linked to a willingness to suppress one’s personal interest for the good of one’s social group (Buss, 1991). In that sense, such people are highly sensitive to the behavior of others (Koole, Jager, Van den Berg, Vlek, and Hofstee, 2001). Researchers have recently found a significant positive association between agreeableness and the value of benevolence, a negative association with the value of power (Roccas, Sagiv, Schwartz, and Knafo, 2002), a positive association with the goals of personal growth and social needs, and a negative association with hedonistic goals (Roberts and Robin, 2000). Regulating mechanisms also seem to buffer or enhance the effects of the negative pole of agreeableness on behavior. Just as the combination of extroversion with neuroticism leads to emotional outbursts, the co-occurrence of low concern for others and lack of emotional regulation are key factors in the transformation of emotional reactions into violent and aggressive behaviors (Caprara, Perugini, and Barbaranelli, 1994). Finally, it is important to note that these effects are more likely to hold for extroverted-neurotics than for introverted-neurotics, because the latter are more likely to suppress such antisocial tendencies. The position of extroverted-neurotics on the dimension of agreeableness determines whether behavior will be exploitative (low agreeableness) or helping (high agreeableness). In addition, it is assumed that conscientiousness buffers the antisocial tendencies associated with low agreeableness. A more specific dimension linked to helping behavior is social responsibility. The norm of social responsibility prescribes that individuals should help other people who are dependent on them (Berkowitz and Daniels, 1964). Thus, people high in the social responsibility dimension emphasize different aspects in their mental model of appropriate behavior toward others. They have been found to be more likely to intervene in traffic accidents on behalf of the victims (Bierhoff, Klein, and Kramp, 1991) and to exhibit cooperative behavior in public goods experiments (De Cremer and Van Lange, 2001). To our knowledge, the relation between the dimension of social responsibility and the Big Five has not been examined, although it is likely that it is associated with agreeableness and conscientiousness.


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There are two important things to note with respect to the link between a high concern for others and altruistic behavior. First, solidarity norms often require a willingness to contribute to the common good (see Lindenberg, this volume; Van Lange, 1999). However, a strong concern for others may suppress the contribution to the common good in favor of a contribution to an interpersonal relation. This has been shown by Batson, Klein, Highberger, and Shaw (1995). They found that participants who had increased concern for others as a consequence of an empathy manipulation were more likely to benefit a fictitious participant for whom they felt empathy even when this implied making an allocation choice that decreased the collective welfare of all other participants. When there is no such contrast between relationship and collective good, people high in agreeableness have been found to be extra sensitive to the behavior of others and to the degree to which collective resources are threatened (see Koole et al., 2001). Second, as was argued above, whereas it is likely that a considerable part of altruistic behavior is driven by a need for positive relationships and a desire to help, some forms of altruistic actions rely on self-control. For example, evolutionary biologists define altruism entirely in terms of concepts such as survival, fitness, and reproduction, with no reference to the underlying motivational states of the agent. Behavior is altruistic when it increases the fitness of others at a cost to the actor, thereby decreasing the actor’s fitness (Sober and Sloan Wilson, 1998). Rachlin (2002) has defined altruism from a radical behaviorist perspective as having a negative balance between costs and benefits, as being a subset of self-controlled actions, and as being identifiable only in contexts of repeated interactions. This behavioristic definition does not distinguish between material and psychological costs and benefits, and it considers altruism mainly as resisting the temptation to behave selfishly (cf. Perugini, 2002). From a personality perspective, the combination of introversion and neuroticism may also result in helping behavior that is triggered by the need to avoid punishment. Interestingly, it has been argued that introverts may be inclined to be cooperative not for altruistic reasons, but because they are motivated to avoid the arousal associated with competitive situations (Graziano et al., 1985; Norman and Watson, 1976). They seem to be more sensitive to the arousal and threat of punishment that accompany interpersonal competition than are individuals high in extroversion (Graziano et al., 1985; Norman and Watson, 1976; see also Eysenck, 1967; Gray, 1972). Similarly, some key mechanisms underlying altruism that have been stressed in the psychological literature are emotions such as anticipated guilt and shame (cf. Batson, 1998; Elster, 1999; Haidt, 2002). The above-mentioned role of conscientiousness as a regulatory mechanism may also play an important role here.

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Social Value Orientations and Positive and Negative Reciprocity Much research into solidary behavior has been focused on experimental paradigms related to game theory and social dilemmas. This research is also significant regarding the influence of personality on mental models. The personality dimensions that were examined in these contexts were more specific than the Big Five and only partly reducible to them. Hence, we will temporarily depart from the Big Five framework to devote attention to these more specific personality dimensions, and we will specify the conceptual framework underlying them. One line of research deals with social value orientations or preferences for particular patterns of distributions of outcomes for the self and others (Messick and McClintock, 1968; Van Lange, Otten, De Bruin, and Joireman, 1997). This research links aspects of framing (mainly gain and normative frames), mental models of relationships, and personality within one paradigm. A distinction has been made between individuals with (1) a prosocial value orientation (i.e., enhancing joint outcomes and enhancing equality in outcomes); (2) an individualistic orientation (i.e., enhancing outcomes for the self with little regard for others’ outcomes); and (3) a competitive orientation (i.e., enhancing relative advantage over others). The latter two are often combined and referred to as proselfs (Van Lange and Liebrand, 1991). The underlying goals of prosocials and proselfs are social and hedonic, respectively, and this leads to several other differences. Prosocials and proselfs construe social dilemmas differently: Prosocials tend to construe social dilemmas as moral issues; proselfs in terms of power. Prosocials associate cooperation with intelligence; proselfs with lack of intelligence. Prosocials frame social dilemmas as occasions for cooperative exchanges and hence have a high interest in joint outcomes (collective rationality), whereas proselfs frame such dilemmas as competitive exchanges and, therefore, have no interest in collective outcomes (individual rationality). Prosocials tend to expect other people to cooperate, whereas proselfs expect others to care for themselves only. Prosocials tend to react to others’ choices, but only moderately; proselfs tend to disregard others’ behavior unless it is convenient for them to do otherwise. In general, prosocials are, therefore, much more likely to cooperate than are proselfs (e.g., De Cremer and Van Lange, 2001). However, proselfs will cooperate if confronted with opponents who consistently reward cooperation, provided there are a certain number of repeated interactions (e.g., Komorita et al., 1992), and prosocials will not cooperate if confronted with opponents who consistently try to exploit them (Van Lange, 1999). In short, whether cooperation occurs or not in a specific context depends on a host of other structural factors, as we have argued above.


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Personality seems to affect not only basic tendencies to cooperate, but also how people respond to other people’s behavior, with important consequences for cooperation. A recurrent finding in the experimental literature on social dilemmas is that individuals who cooperate are more likely to do so if the other is also cooperative (Van Lange, 1999) or is expected to cooperate (Wilke and Braspenning, 1989). This finding can be explained in terms of reciprocity or behavioral assimilation. It has been found, however, that individuals vary in terms of how much they are willing to adopt conditional cooperation (Van Lange, 1999) or to reciprocate previous or expected cooperation (Gallucci and Perugini, 2000). In other words, it appears that there are individual differences in willingness to behave in ways that are conditional upon others’ behavior. This general mechanism and the individual differences in abiding by it have been expressed recently by Perugini and Gallucci in a formal model of reciprocity that includes individual differences as a main component (e.g., Gallucci and Perugini, 2000; Perugini and Gallucci, 2001). Two main behavioral components have been identified: positive reciprocity and negative reciprocity. Reciprocators are sensitive to relational situations and, consequently, they perceive such situations as opportunities to engage in interpersonal exchanges. They are highly reactive to other people’s behavior. Unlike prosocials and proselfs, reciprocators take into account particularly the intentions guiding a person’s behavior, and react by giving fewer rewards to those who intentionally behave rudely, regardless of the type of relationship characterizing the interaction (Perugini and Gallucci, 2001). Some main differences between positive and negative reciprocators concern expectations, preferences for reward versus punishment, and interest in collective outcomes. Positive reciprocators tend to expect cooperation from others, whereas negative reciprocators tend to expect noncooperation. The dimension of positive reciprocity has been found to predict cooperative behavior even when there are no material incentives for this (Gallucci and Perugini, 2003, Study 2). Likewise, a careful analysis of the history of interactions clarified that cooperative behavior among people high in positive reciprocity cannot be attributed to prosocial or altruistic motives (Gallucci and Perugini, 2003, Study 1). Conversely, individual differences in negative reciprocity can predict uncooperative behavior when the history of the interactions is such that the agent has been faced with uncooperative behavior of the other, even when interacting with a potential friend (Perugini and Gallucci, 2001). Negative reciprocators have been shown to be more reactive to exchanges in which they can punish the other, whereas positive reciprocators are more reactive to exchanges allowing only for rewards. Negative reciprocators appear to be interested only in “getting even” in terms of the interpersonal exchange, whereas positive reciprocators are additionally

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concerned about the joint outcomes (Perugini, Gallucci, Presaghi, and Ercolani, 2002). Whether cooperation occurs or not again depends on many factors, but in general cooperation can be expected when the other(s) in the interaction behaves cooperatively, and noncooperation can be expected when the other(s) does not cooperate. This holds for both positive and negative reciprocators, although the former are more likely to cooperate and the latter are more likely not to cooperate. The main mechanism behind these two dimensions is a preference to reward (positive reciprocators) or to punish (negative reciprocators) others, which is usually but not always, associated with cooperation and noncooperation, respectively. Positive and negative reciprocity are associated primarily with the positive and negative poles of agreeableness, respectively, although the correlations are only moderate.

Conclusion We have reviewed different forms of solidary behaviors and their associations with basic and specific personality dimensions. We have highlighted as relevant to solidary behavior four of the Big Five (extroversion, agreeableness, conscientiousness, and emotional stability) and the sixth factor (honesty), and specific personality dimensions (Machiavellanism, social responsibility, social value orientations, positive and negative reciprocity). We assumed that the link between personality and solidary behavior is at least partly mediated by the three master frames that are distinguished in this volume. Conscientiousness and honesty particularly seem to promote the salience of a normative frame. Individuals high in these traits are characterized by highly internalized norms inclining them toward solidarity, and they tend to use control mechanisms that reduce antisolidary tendencies linked to situational temptations or other traits. We have discussed how the interplay between extroversion and neuroticism may form the cornerstone of hedonic motives, determining to what extent individuals are driven by the need to seek pleasure or, by contrast, to avoid pain. We argued that particularly agreeableness promotes the salience of a gain frame, that is, an emphasis on selfish needs and wants. This trait seems to play a major role in determining mental models of relationships as it is associated with a high concern for others’ welfare. We aimed to show that solidary behavior can occur in each major frame and thus can be encouraged by very different personality dimensions. We have primarily emphasized the impact of personality on frames, mental models, and solidarity. It is important to note, however, that framing is not merely a matter of personality. Contextual factors play an important role, too. Personality traits influence framing, but dependent upon features of the situation, a person


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who is inclined to be in a, say, hedonic frame can, at times, of course also be in a normative or gain frame. Traits are also likely to play an important role in determining different behavioral patterns within a frame, especially by influencing sensitivity to certain cues. For example, personality traits may make a person more sensitive to reward or to punishment, leading to different kinds of behavior within the same frame. In this way, aspects of personality allow finer predictions of solidary behavior even within the same frame. Linking personality and framing theories seems to be a useful way to advance our knowledge of solidary behavior. In this chapter, we have taken a first step in this direction.

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Verplanken, B., and Herabadi, A. (2001). Individual differences in impulse buying tendency: Feeling and no thinking. European Journal of Personality, 15, S71–S83. Wilke, H.A.M., and Braspenning, J. (1989). Reciprocity: Choice shift in a social trap. European Journal of Social Psychology, 19, 317–326. Wilson, D.S., Near, D., and Miller, R.R. (1996). Machiavellianism: A synthesis of the evolutionary and psychological literatures. Psychological Bulletin, 119(2), 285–299.

CHAPTER 6

The Development of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior in Adolescence René Veenstra

This chapter is about the development of prosocial and antisocial behavior in children and adolescents. Prosocial behavior can be defined as voluntary behavior that is aimed at fulfilling another person’s need for support (Bar-Tal, 1984; Eisenberg and Fabes, 1998). It includes spontaneous acts of comforting (physically or verbally expressing sympathy or reassurance), sharing (giving materials or work space that one is using or giving a “turn” to another person), and helping (physically assisting or offering physical assistance). Antisocial behavior can be defined as acts that inflict physical or mental harm or property loss or damage on others. It is behavior that is intended to lower the well-being of other persons, which may or may not constitute the breaking of criminal laws (Coie and Dodge, 1998; Loeber and Schmaling, 1985; Rutter, Giller, and Hagell, 1998). Research on the development of prosocial behavior and research on the development of antisocial behavior have been rather independent of each other. Whereas prosocial behavior has been studied mainly by social-developmental psychologists, antisocial behavior has been studied mainly by criminologists and developmental psychopathologists. Perhaps because of the greater salience of the consequences of aggression, delinquency, and criminality, scientists have devoted much more attention to antisocial behavior than to prosocial behavior. Many large-scale, prospective, longitudinal studies of general population samples have been carried out to untangle the roots and consequences of antisocial behavior across the life span. Well-known examples are studies in Christchurch (Fergusson, Horwood, and Nagin, 2000), Dunedin (Silva and Stanton, 1996), and Stockholm (Wikström, 1987). Whereas the development of antisocial and criminal behavior has long been the subject of investigation, interest in the development of 93

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prosocial behavior only started in the 1970s. Eisenberg and Fabes (1998) argue that “both, relevant theory and the conceptual integration of existing empirical findings are in need for further development” (p. 702). The differing interest in antisocial and prosocial behavior is mirrored in the number of articles and books that have been published on these issues. At the end of 2003, prosocial behavior was a keyword in 1,600 records of PsycINFO, whereas antisocial behavior was a keyword in 3,850 records. Based on these numbers, Bierhoff (2002) concluded that social scientists have invested much more time and effort in the study of antisocial behavior than in the study of prosocial behavior.

Personality Factors Related to Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior A number of personality dispositions (in terms of the general framework of this book, characteristics of the person) have been shown to influence the development of antisocial or prosocial behavior. For example, hyperactivity and inattention have a rather robust association with antisocial behavior, mainly as a result of poor social functioning in general (Rutter et al., 1998). Antisocial behavior accompanied by hyperactivity and attention deficit has its onset in early or middle childhood and a high likelihood of persistence into adulthood. It has a strong genetic component and a strong association with cognitive impairment, social malfunction, and poor peer relationships (Feehan, McGee, and Williams, 1993; Moffitt, 1990). Numerous studies have shown that delinquents differ from nondelinquents in temperament (Caspi, 1998). For example, Caspi et al. (1994) showed that high impulsiveness as well as negative emotionality (meaning a ready tendency to be angry, anxious, or irritable) are associated with delinquency. The absence of self-control (Gottfredson and Hirschi, 1990), or effortful control (Rothbart and Putnam, 2002), also plays a major role in the development of antisocial behavior. Children with low self-control are less likely to consider the possible consequences of their actions, especially consequences that are likely to be long-delayed. High-intensity pleasure or sensation seeking is also a temperamental risk factor for antisocial behavior. It has long been known that low intelligence, especially poor verbal and planning skills, and poor school attainment have an influence on antisocial behavior. However, the finding of a relationship between poor cognitive function and antisocial behavior leaves the question unanswered why such a relationship exists. It has been suggested that there is interplay between cognitive impairments and psychosocial risk factors. Moffitt (1993) argues that cognitively impaired children evoke negative behaviors in other people and are more vulnerable to

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risks such as coercive parenting and ineffective discipline. This in turn sets up a spiraling cycle of risk factors and a high likelihood of lifecourse persistent antisocial behavior. Crick and Dodge (1994) suggest that antisocial children may be less skilled in social intelligence and hence less likely to behave in appropriate ways. According to these authors, the effect of biased cognitive processing on antisocial behavior is the result of a tendency to wrongly perceive negative information in others’ behavior, to misinterpret social interactions, and to focus on aggressive behavior of others. Farrington (1997) argues that children with low intelligence may be more likely to offend because they tend to fail in school, which in turn leads to truancy, a lack of educational qualifications, low-status jobs, and periods of unemployment, all of which make it harder to achieve goals legally. Numerous scientists have hypothesized that cognitive and social skills and temperamental characteristics are associated with prosocial behavior, because cognitive abilities may underlie the ability to discern others’ needs or distress and the capacity to respond adequately to others’ needs. Eisenberg and Fabes (1998) argued that measures of intelligence or social cognition and prosocial behavior should at least be modestly correlated. Although empirical results have been somewhat mixed, in most studies a positive relation between cognitive skills and prosocial behavior was found. Furthermore, prosocial children tend to be sociable, well regulated, low in impulsiveness, and not shy or anxious (Eisenberg and Fabes, 1998). They are simultaneously able to communicate and resolve their own needs, feel guilt and remorse about wrongdoing, exercise selfcontrol when tempted to do wrong, and feel compassion for others (Hoffman, 1970; Mischel, Shoda, and Rodriguez, 1989). There is accumulating evidence that determinants of antisocial behavior such as impulsiveness and hyperactivity have a genetic component (Rutter et al., 1998). Genes may produce an effect by increasing vulnerability to life experiences and stress or by indirect routes such as influencing behaviors that in turn lead to changes in the individual’s environment and set up a spiraling cycle of risk factors. Biological factors, such as low autonomic reactivity and disturbed serotonergic functioning, also affect antisocial behavior (Raine, 1993). Research has also shown that male children and juveniles are much more often antisocial and deviant than are female children and juveniles (Moffitt, Caspi, Rutter, and Silva, 2001). Prosocial behavior is more prominent among females (Eisenberg and Fabes, 1998). Sex differences in prosocial and antisocial behavior deserve special attention, because earlier research has shown that girls and boys differ not only quantitatively but also qualitatively in social behavior. For example, boys like to spend time playing with groups of others, whereas girls are said to engage in reciprocal conversations. Girls rely more on their best friends, and report more intimacy and affection in their friendships than do

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boys, whose friendships are broader and looser. Adolescent boys report more often than girls that they have leaders in their peer groups (Gavin and Furman, 1989). However, boys are not always more aggressive than girls. Although boys outperform girls in physical aggression, girls outperform boys in relational (i.e., nonverbal) aggression (Crick, 1996).

Family Characteristics and the Development of Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior A number of family characteristics are related to the development of prosocial and antisocial behavior in children and adolescents. For example, teenage parenting, large family size, and broken homes are robust predictors of antisocial behavior (Rutter et al., 1998). Presumably, these factors influence children’s behavior via family discord and ineffective parenting (Rutter et al., 1998). Similarly, poverty and social disadvantage indicate increased risks of antisocial behavior, but the effects seem to be indirect and to be mediated by parental depression and family conflict. Parenting is a central and critical psychosocial risk factor. Coercive or hostile parenting, abuse and neglect, ineffective parenting, and poor supervision or monitoring are all associated with (life-course persistent) antisocial behavior (Patterson, 1982). These effects may potentially be mediated by attachment processes (implying damage to social development or social bonding with parents and peers) or by learning processes (i.e., children might learn that antisocial behavior pays). Farrington (1997) argues that children who are exposed to poor parenting practices may be more likely to offend because they do not build up internal inhibitions against socially disapproved behavior. Eisenberg and Fabes (1998) conclude that the development of prosocial behavior is enhanced by exposure to parental warmth (which fosters a positive identity and sense of self as well as attachment), adult guidance, and children’s participation in prosocial activities. However, numerous factors believed to contribute to prosocial development have seldom been examined. In sum, a number of personality dispositions and family characteristics that affect antisocial behavior have the opposite effect on prosocial behavior. There are also some differences in the determinants of prosocial and antisocial behavior.

Adolescence-Limited Versus Life-Course Persistent Antisocial Behavior As has been emphasized by Moffitt (1993), when discussing the determinants of antisocial behavior, it is necessary to distinguish between adolescence-limited and life-course persistent antisocial


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behavior of juveniles. She argues that the antisocial behavior of the vast majority of juvenile delinquents is limited to their teenage years. For them, the onset of antisocial behavior occurs when they enter adolescence. Problem conduct usually ceases during young adulthood. Moffitt (1993) reasons that the delinquent activities of adolescencelimited antisocials stem from factors endemic to the social context of juveniles. According to Moffitt, such behavior is an adaptive response to modern teens’ social context, and not the product of a cumulative history of pathological maldevelopment. For these juveniles, an emerging appreciation of adult privileges is met with the awareness that those privileges are still withheld from them. Adolescence-limited antisocial youths often commit crimes that symbolize adult privileges (being powerful, having dates) and that demonstrate freedom from parental control. Many of these delinquent acts are committed with the collaboration of peers, such as vandalism, public order offenses, drug and alcohol offenses, running away, and theft. The most important risk factor for adolescence-limited antisocial behavior is peer delinquency, as peer relationships increase in their importance during adolescence. When these juveniles get access to adult privileges, they readily desist from law-breaking, using the prosocial skills they mastered before they entered puberty. Juveniles on the adolescence-limited path show more potential than juveniles on the life-course persistent path for future desistance from crime (less likely to drop out of school, closer to their families). Nagin, Farrington, and Moffitt (1995) showed that, at age 18, the adolescence-limited group was indistinguishable from the lifecourse persistent group in terms of attachment to work and family, but by age 32, they had established much better work records and relationships with their spouses than had the life-course persistent group. At that age, they were indistinguishable from the nondelinquent group. However, the adolescence-limited antisocials continued to drink heavily and use drugs, and get into fights. According to Nagin et al. (1995), individuals are deterred from deviant behavior by the threat that their accumulated investments in social relations and in their education will be lost if their involvement in deviance is discovered. In their opinion, adolescence-limited antisocial youths restrict their deviance to the forms of behavior that are least likely to jeopardize their jobs and marriages. They seem to avoid committing crimes with a comparatively high risk of conviction or that might harm familial relationships. Instead, they seem to restrict their deviance to behaviors less likely to result in official sanction or to disrupt intimate attachments, such as theft, heavy drinking, and barroom brawling. The life-course persistent antisocial youths are a small group of offenders whose antisocial behavior is long-standing. As children, these youths behaved antisocially, as adolescents they are delinquent, and as adults they will be criminal. According to Moffitt (1993),

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life-course persistent antisocial behavior begins early in childhood because subtle neuropsychological dysfunctions disrupt the normal development of language, memory, and self-control. These early temperamental and cognitive restrictions in turn increase vulnerability to criminogenic aspects in the child’s social environment, such as rejection by peers and school failure. The result is that these youths miss out on opportunities to acquire and practice prosocial alternatives, and are less likely than their adolescence-limited counterparts to stop their antisocial activities. This behavior of the life-course persistent group is self-defeating and they have few opportunities to reach a high status in society. However, only in a small number of people, mainly males, is antisocial behavior life-course persistent (Moffitt, Caspi, Dickson, Silva, and Stanton, 1996).

Studies of the Relationship Between Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior The empirical evidence on determinants of prosocial and antisocial behavior in children and adolescents is summarized above. The evidence cited with regard to determinants of antisocial behavior mostly stemmed from studies other than those that provided evidence on determinants of prosocial behavior. The reason for this is that most researchers concentrated on either antisocial or prosocial behavior, and both kinds of behavior were rarely investigated in the same study. As a result, in PsycINFO, there are only 100 records that contain both prosocial and antisocial behavior as keywords. Thus, as Fabes, Carlo, Kupanoff, and Laible (1999) emphasize, more studies are needed in which prosocial and antisocial development are examined concurrently to account more adequately for social development. “To examine one set of behaviors without examining the other set presents a skewed and limited description of the complexity of adolescents” (p. 13). Such studies are of utmost importance as it is far from clear whether prosocial and antisocial behavior are two sides of the same coin. Although some overlap exists between the predictors of prosocial and antisocial behavior, the relationship between these behavioral tendencies is far from clear. Even if these tendencies are substantially (negatively) correlated with each other, it appears plausible that some children and adolescents may score either high or low on both dimensions. Referring to the title of this chapter, it seems plausible that at least some adolescents are like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: helpful and prosocial in some situations and selfish and antisocial in others. Therefore, I will summarize below some of the few studies in which both dimensions were investigated in the same sample.


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1. The study by Rodkin et al. (2000), who investigated elementary (fourth- to sixth-grade) school boys. Prosocial and antisocial configurations were identified using teacher ratings (using cluster analysis on seven factors: popularity, physical competence, affiliation, academic competence, aggressiveness, shyness, and internalizing problem behavior) and compared with peer and self-assessments and social centrality measures. 2. The studies by Hawley, who conducted research into prosocial and coercive control strategies in early childhood (Hawley, 2003b), late childhood (Hawley, Little, and Pasupathi, 2002), and early adolescence (Hawley, 2003a). She used self-, peer, and teacher reports to measure prosocial and coercive strategies of control. The above-mentioned studies can be regarded as among the few that dealt with both prosocial and antisocial behavior during adolescence. 3. The study by Krueger, Hicks, and McGue (2001), who investigated monozygotic and dizygotic pairs of adult twins to determine whether prosocial and antisocial characteristics can be attributed to the same or to different sources (genes and kinds of environment). 4. Some sociometric studies of popularity of pupils also contribute to this question. They dealt with whether popular children can be both prosocial and antisocial. 5. The study by Pakaslahti and Keltikangas-Järvinen (2001), who investigated the behavioral differences between four types of preferred (prosocial) and aggressive (antisocial) adolescents. They collected self- and peer-report data from Finnish boys and girls, aged 14. Rodkin et al. (2000) found six clusters of boys: model (prosocial), tough (prosocial and antisocial), passive (low-social), bright antisocial (antisocial), troubled (antisocial), and low-academic boys. The first subtype (26.8% of all the boys) were the “model boys” who had mainly prosocial characteristics. Teachers viewed these boys as popular, physically and academically competent, friendly, and neither shy nor internalizing nor aggressive. Peers nominated model boys as cool, athletic, leaders, cooperative, and studious, and rarely nominated them as shy or antisocial. Model boys saw themselves as nonaggressive and academically competent. The second subtype (13.1% of all the boys) were the tough boys who combined, in a sense, prosocial and antisocial characteristics. Tough boys were viewed by their teachers as popular, extremely aggressive, physically competent, and average to below average in friendliness, academic competence, shyness, and internalizing behavior. Peers perceived tough boys as cool, athletic, and antisocial. Tough boys saw themselves as popular, aggressive, and physically competent.

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The third subtype (26.3% of all the boys) were the passive boys, who lacked both prosocial and antisocial characteristics. Based on teacher and self-reports, this group of boys can be viewed as low in aggressiveness and high in shyness. Peers did not nominate them as cool, athletic, popular, or aggressive. The fourth (9.7% of all the boys) and the fifth subtypes (11.9% of all the boys) were the bright antisocial boys and the troubled boys, respectively, who both had mainly antisocial characteristics. Teachers viewed both subtypes as unpopular, physically incompetent, unfriendly, internalizing, and aggressive. Peers rarely nominated these boys as cool, athletic, leaders, or cooperative. The self-perceptions of these two subtypes were also similar. The main difference between these two antisocial subtypes was that bright antisocial boys scored moderately high in academic competence, whereas troubled boys scored much lower in academic competence. The sixth subtype (12.2% of all the boys) consisted of the low-academic boys, who were mainly an average group. Teachers viewed them as above average in friendliness and below average in academic competence. They had average scores for all other characteristics. Peers rarely nominated them as cooperative or studious. Low-academic boys saw themselves neither as academically competent nor as having internalizing problems. The findings of Rodkin et al. (2000) suggest that antisocial boys can be among the most popular and the socially best-connected children in elementary classrooms. Both model and tough boys were central members of prominent classroom cliques. They conclude: When antisocial behavior was conjoined with high levels of athleticism and/or physical attractiveness, or when antisocial behavior was not in the presence of high levels of shyness or extremely low levels of friendliness, academic competence, or internalizing behavior, antisocial boys were popular. Otherwise, antisocial boys were unpopular. (p. 22)

Based on evolutionary theory and the literature on child development, Hawley distinguished two strategies of control: prosocial strategies (that foster interpersonal relationships) and coercive strategies (that do not foster interpersonal relationships). At first, it seemed that prosocial strategies were consistently associated with positive characteristics, whereas coercive strategies were associated with negative characteristics. According to Hawley, however, a more complex pattern emerged when a typological approach was adopted. She distinguished five types of control strategies: prosocial (high in prosocial control and average or low in coercive control), coercive (average or low in prosocial control and high in coercive control), bi-strategic (high in both control strategies), typical (low in both control strategies), and noncontrolling (low in one control strategy or average in both strategies).


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For all age groups, Hawley found that a prosocial control strategy was related to positive social characteristics and a high level of wellbeing of the participants. Children using this strategy reported that social relationships were important for them and that they were intrinsically motivated to pursue them. They effectively met their needs in ways that won the affection of their peers. Early adolescents using a prosocial control strategy were perceived as popular, agreeable, conscientiousness, high in attention to social cues, and low in aggression, hostility, and tendency to cheat. In all three studies, there were more females than males in this group of participants. Coercive (antisocial) controllers were the least preferred group (especially in the study of preschoolers). Rather than pursuing relationships for enjoyment, they reported pursuing them for status and to fulfill external expectations. They indicated more loneliness, sadness, and anxiety than did all other groups. Curiously, coercive controllers felt as connected to the peer group as did the average group (similar to the average type). In the study of adolescents, they scored above average in the tendency to cheat, aggression, and hostility. They were rated about average in perceived popularity. In late childhood (Hawley et al., 2002) and early adolescence (Hawley, 2003a), more males than females adopted a coercive control strategy. Participants applying a bi-strategic control strategy (i.e., combining prosocial and antisocial elements) described themselves as having the highest need for recognition and the highest level of influence. In all three studies by Hawley they reported being more agreeable, conscientious, and socially perceptive than average. At the same time, they reported being as aggressive and hostile as antisocial children. They saw themselves in the same positive light as the prosocial children, but in the same negative light as the antisocial children. They were intrinsically and extrinsically motivated to pursue friendships at the same time. They were perceived as popular at all ages. With regard to the bistrategic control strategy, no gender differences were identified. Noncontroller (nonsocial) participants reported the lowest levels of influence and the lowest need for recognition. In all three studies by Hawley these children were ineffective communicators and low in sensitivity to social cues, and tended to be anxious, withdrawn, and submissive. There were no gender differences with regard to the noncontroller subtype. A twin study on male adults born in Minnesota with an average age of 33 years (170 monozygotic pairs, 105 dizygotic pairs, and 121 individuals whose twin did not participate) (Krueger, Hicks, and McGue, 2001) indicated that altruism (a facet of prosociality) and antisocial behavior were independent and that they had distinct etiologies. Altruism was linked primarily to familial (shared) environments, nonfamilial (unique) environments, and personality traits reflecting positive emotionality.

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Antisocial behavior was linked primarily to genes, nonfamilial (unique) environments, and personality traits reflecting negative emotionality and a lack of constraints. Krueger et al. (2001) argued: If the sources of desirable and undesirable behaviors are distinct, strategies designed to diminish undesirable behavior need not result in the promotion of desirable behavior, and vice versa. Moreover, researchers’ tendency to focus on undesirable behavior appears to result in an incomplete picture of human functioning; desirable and undesirable qualities can coexist in the same persons. (p. 401)

The sociometric literature can also be described in terms of prosocial and antisocial behavior. Newcomb, Bukowski, and Pattee (1993) reviewed the literature on sociometric status. Based on peer information on social preference (likeability) and social impact (salience), a distinction is usually made between popular (7–11% of all the children), controversial (3–7%), neglected (9–15%), rejected (11–13%), and average youths (60–65%). The behavioral repertoire of the popular (prosocial) group can be said to consist primarily of socially skilled behaviors that lead to positive social outcomes. Their behavior facilitates and enhances rather than undermines the goals of their peers. Their low level of disruptive aggressive behavior coupled with their high levels of positive traits, actions, and problem-solving skills make them ideal prospective friends. The rejected (antisocial) group is at risk of social adjustment difficulties (Crick, 1996). They are likely to be more aggressive and withdrawn and less sociable and cognitively skilled. Their less favorable social reputation may also lead to isolation and ostracism. LaFontana and Cillessen (2002) suggested that they often behave aggressively because of the frustration that comes with being victimized. Their aggressive behavior is hostile and reactive. The rejected (antisocial) group is the polar opposite of the popular (prosocial) group. The neglected (low-social) group displays little social interaction and few positive social actions and positive social traits. Their future prospects are better than those of the antisocial group, but remain very limited. Their social isolation at a young age creates a high risk of path-dependency toward less successful lives as adults (Farrington, Gallagher, Morley, St. Ledger, and West, 1988). The controversial (prosocial and antisocial) group is likely to be overly engaged with their peers and viewed as both more aggressive and more sociable as a result. Pakaslahti and Keltikangas-Järvinen (2001) provided evidence for a group of adolescents that combine and a group of adolescents that lack both prosocial and antisocial behavior. They distinguished four groups of adolescents: preferred nonaggressive (prosocial), preferred aggressive (prosocial and antisocial), nonpreferred nonaggressive (low-social), and nonpreferred aggressive (antisocial). The group of


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preferred aggressive adolescents scored high in leadership, whereas the group of nonpreferred nonaggressive adolescents scored low in leadership. The nonpreferred nonaggressive adolescents scored high in friendliness, but, according to the authors, friendliness was not an effective way to increase one’s social status among peers. They concluded that, in contrast to the preferred aggressive group, the friendly nonpreferred nonaggressive group was invisible to their peers. Pakaslahti, Karjalainen, and Keltikangas-Järvinen (2002) pointed out that preferred aggressive adolescents were socially very active and used by far the most prosocial problem-solving strategies. In sum, all of the above studies provide evidence that some adolescents are prosocial and antisocial at the same time, or are neither prosocial nor antisocial. As Table 6.1 shows, this result was independent of the different samples and the different measures that were used in the studies.

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde From a Framing Perspective It seems that adolescents are not always either prosocial or antisocial, but that some combine both attributes. In the following I aim to reinterpret these findings from the perspective of the framing theory as it was outlined in Chapters 1 and 2 of this volume. TABLE 6.1. Combinations of Prosocial and Antisocial Behavior. Degree of Prosocial Behavior:

Low

Intermediate

R: passive P: nonpreferred nonaggressive H: noncontroller S: neglected

Intermediate High

Degree of antisocial behavior

Low

High R: model P: preferred nonaggressive H: prosocial S: popular

H: typical S: average

R: bright antisocial or troubled P: nonpreferred aggressive H: coercive S: rejected

R: tough P: preferred aggressive H: bi-strategic S: controversial

Source: R: Rodkin et al. (2000); P: Pakaslahti and Keltikangas-Järvinen (2001); H: Hawley et al. (2002); S: Sociometric literature.

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According to this theoretical perspective, a person can approach a situation applying one of three different basic frames: (1) a hedonic frame, (2) a gain frame, and (3) a normative frame. Being in a hedonic frame implies the danger of harming the long-term well-being of both oneself and others. Children and adolescents in a hedonic frame can be characterized by Gottfredson and Hirschi’s (1990) description of low self-control: The offender appears to have little control over his or her desires. When such desires conflict with long-term interests, those lacking self-control opt for the desires of the moment, whereas those with greater self-control are governed by the restraints imposed by the consequences of acts displeasing to family, friends and the law. (p. xv)

One can argue that those adolescents who consistently behave in an antisocial manner tend to structure their social environments by permanently using a hedonic frame. This tendency has its origin in individual deficiencies that assume influence when difficult children interact with difficult home environments. Beginning in childhood, individual deficiencies accumulate increasing momentum, cutting off opportunities to practice prosocial behavior. As time passes, recovery is precluded by maladaptive individual dispositions and narrowing life options. Thus, the strongest predictors of persistent antisocial behavior are measures of individual and family characteristics (Moffitt, 1993). Often, these adolescents do not possess ordinary means to reach social status and a high level of subjective well-being (Ormel, 2002). Poor cognitive and social skills and temperamental deviancies such as high impulsiveness and novelty seeking make it difficult for them to invest in normal resources. Moreover, they have an unclear understanding of relational expectations. As a consequence, they often fail in social relations and are mainly perceived as unfriendly. It is exactly this group of juveniles that Moffitt (1993) describes as life-course persistent antisocial. On the contrary, children and adolescents that can be characterized as “prosocials” (i.e., those who score high in prosocial and low in antisocial behavior) tend to structure their social environments and their own lives using a normative frame. They have the skills to ignore incidental temptations and they also tend to forgive each other if things go wrong once in a while. As a consequence, these juveniles have good relationships with friends and family. In the long run, their prosociality pays off for them as it is a means to achieve a high level of subjective well-being. As the studies cited above show, however, being consistently prosocial and refraining from antisocial behavior may not always lead to a high social status. An alternative way to reach that goal is to be


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prosocial at some times, but to be antisocial at other times. According to Hawley (2003a), this group is overall well adapted and highly effective. Hawley argues that the Machiavellian approach of this group entails the balancing of “getting along” and “getting ahead.” These adolescents admit that they are aggressive, claim to be hostile, and confess that they cheat in school. Peers cast them in a similar light, but also see them as effective, socially central, and reasonably well liked. Teachers do not see them as more aggressive than average. According to Hawley, it is possible that such bi-strategic juveniles are skilled at hiding their aggression from authority figures. They have been found to be well in tune with others’ goals and perspectives, and appear to operate well within social norms without, perhaps, actually doing so. With regard to the classification of Moffitt, these juveniles tend to be adolescence-limited antisocials. During their adolescence, they start to engage in delinquent acts but are able to refrain from such activities if the costs of such behavior increase (e.g., if they risk losing their jobs or families). The focus on control allows for the possibility that the bi-strategic children are strategic also in both their prosocial and antisocial control efforts. This casts a different light on what might be meant by the co-occurrence of prosocial and antisocial behavior. A recent study by Boxer, Tisak, and Goldstein (2004) suggests that prosocial actions by youths can stem from motivations other than simply “being nice”: “An adolescent who appears to be ‘good’ and prosocial in his or her orientation to others may in fact hold beliefs that disregard the welfare of others” (p. 99). A similar point is made by LaFontana and Cillessen (2002). Such instrumental or proactive prosocial behavior may at times even turn into indirect or relational forms of aggression such as gossip and social exclusion (Crick and Grotpeter, 1995). Thus, in terms of Lindenberg’s theory (see Lindenberg, this volume; Lindenberg et al., this volume), such juveniles can be characterized as habitually applying a gain frame when dealing with their social environment. They follow the social norms of fairness and justice if it is in their best interest to do so, but they refrain from solidarity if it does not pay off for them. In sum, our aim was to show that prosocial and antisocial behavior in children and adolescents are not simply two sides of the same coin. Few researchers have investigated prosocial and antisocial behavior within the same sample; however, the empirical evidence shows that although the two dimensions are substantially negatively correlated with each other, this negative correlation is far from perfect. Thus, some people resemble the metaphor of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde— they are prosocial in some situations, but behave selfishly and brutally in others.

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References Bar-Tal, D. (1984). American study of helping behavior: What? Why and where? In E. Staub, D. Bar-Tal, J. Karylowski, and J. Reykowski (Eds.), Development and maintenance of prosocial behavior (pp. 5–27). NewYork/London: Plenum. Bierhoff, H.W. (2002). Prosocial behaviour. East Sussex: Psychology Press. Boxer, P., Tisak, M.S., and Goldstein, S.E. (2004). Is it bad to be good? An exploration of aggressive and prosocial behavior subtypes in adolescence. Journal of Youth and Adolescence, 33, 91–100. Caspi, A. (1998). Personality development across the life course. In W. Damon and N. Eisenberg (Eds.), Handbook of child psychology. Volume 3. Social, emotional, and personality development (pp. 311–388). New York: John Wiley and Sons. Caspi, A., Moffitt, T.E., Silva, P.A., Stouthamer-Loeber, M., Krueger, R.F., and Schmutte, P.S. (1994). Are some people crime-prone? Replications of the personality-crime relationship across countries, genders, races, and methods. Criminology, 32, 163–195. Coie, J.D., and Dodge, K.A. (1998). Aggression and antisocial behavior. In W. Damon and N. Eisenberg (Eds.), Handbook of child psychology. Volume 3. Social, emotional, and personality development (pp. 779–862). New York: John Wiley and Sons. Crick, N.R. (1996). The role of overt aggression, relational aggression, and prosocial behavior in the prediction of children’s future social adjustment. Child Development, 67, 2317–2327. Crick, N.R., and Dodge, K.A. (1994). A review and reformulation of social-information processing mechanisms in children’s social adjustment. Psychological Bulletin, 115, 74–101. Crick, N.R., and Grotpeter, J.K. (1995). Relational aggression, gender, and social-psychological adjustment. Child Development, 66, 710–722. Eisenberg, N., and Fabes, R.A. (1998). Prosocial development. In W. Damon and N. Eisenberg (Eds.), Handbook of child psychology. Volume 3. Social, emotional, and personality development (pp. 701–778). New York: John Wiley and Sons. Fabes, R.A., Carlo, G., Kupanoff, K., and Laible, D. (1999). Early adolescence and prosocial/ moral behavior. I: The role of individual processes. Journal of Early Adolescence, 19, 5–16. Farrington, D.P. (1997). Human development and criminal careers. In M. Maguire, R. Morgan, and R. Reiner (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of criminology (2nd ed., pp. 361–408). Oxford: Clarendon. Farrington, D.P., Gallagher, B., Morley, L., St. Ledger, R.J., and West, D.J. (1988). A 24-year follow-up of men from vulnerable backgrounds. In R.L. Jenkins and W.K. Brown (Eds.), The abandonment of delinquent behavior. Promoting the turnaround (pp. 155–173). New York: Praeger. Feehan, M., McGee, R., and Williams, S.M. (1993). Mental health disorders from age 15 to age 18 years. Journal of the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry, 32, 1118–1126. Fergusson, D.M., Horwood, L.J., and Nagin, D.S. (2000). Offending trajectories in a New Zealand birth cohort. Criminology, 38, 525–551. Gavin, L.A., and Furman, W. (1989). Age differences in adolescents’ perceptions of their peer groups. Developmental Psychology, 25, 827–834. Gottfredson, M.R., and Hirschi, T. (1990). A general theory of crime. Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press. Hawley, P.H. (2003a). Prosocial and coercive configurations of resource control in early adolescence: A case for the well-adapted Machiavellian. Merrill-Palmer Quarterly, 49, 279–309.


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Hawley, P.H. (2003b). Strategies of control, aggression, and morality in preschoolers: An evolutionary perspective. Journal of Experimental Child Psychology, 85, 213–235. Hawley, P.H., Little, T.D., and Pasupathi, M. (2002). Winning friends and influencing peers: Strategies of peer influence in late childhood. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 466–474. Hoffman, M.L. (1970). Moral development. In P.H. Mussen (Ed.), Carmichael’s manual of child development (3rd ed., pp. 261–359). New York: Wiley. Krueger, R.F., Hicks, B.M., and McGue, M. (2001). Altruism and antisocial behavior: Independent tendencies, unique personality correlates, distinct etiologies. Psychological Science, 12, 397–402. LaFontana, K.M., and Cillessen, A.H. (2002). Children’s perceptions of popular and unpopular peers: A multimethod assessment. Developmental Psychology, 38, 635–647. Loeber, R., and Schmaling, K.B. (1985). Empirical evidence for overt and covert patterns of antisocial conduct problems: A meta-analysis. Journal of Abnormal Child Psychology, 13, 337–353. Mischel, W., Shoda, Y., and Rodriguez, M.L. (1989). Delay of gratification in children. Science, 244, 933–938. Moffitt, T.E. (1990). Juvenile delinquency and attention deficit disorder: Boys’ developmental trajectories from age 3 to age 15. Child Development, 61, 893–910. Moffitt, T.E. (1993). Adolescence-limited and life-course-persistent antisocial behavior: A developmental taxonomy. Psychological Review, 100, 674–701. Moffitt, T.E., Caspi, A., Dickson, N., Silva, P., and Stanton, W. (1996). Childhood-onset versus adolescent-onset antisocial conduct problems in males: Natural history from ages 3 to 18 years. Development and Psychopathology, 8, 399–424. Moffitt, T.E., Caspi, A., Rutter, M., and Silva, P.A. (2001). Sex differences in antisocial behavior: Conduct disorder, delinquency, and violence in the Dunedin longitudinal study. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. Nagin, D.S., Farrington, D.P., and Moffitt, T.E. (1995). Life-course trajectories of different types of offenders. Criminology, 33, 111–139. Newcomb, A. F., Bukowski, W.M., and Pattee, L. (1993). Children’s peer relations: A meta-analytic review of popular, rejected, neglected, controversial, and average sociometric status. Psychological Bulletin, 113, 99–128. Ormel, J. (2002). Social production function (SPF) theory as an heuristic for understanding developmental trajectories and outcomes. In L. Pulkinnen and A. Caspi (Eds.), Paths to successful development. Personality in the life course (pp. 353–379). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Pakaslahti, L., Karjalainen, A., and Keltikangas-Järvinen, L. (2002). Relationships between adolescent prosocial problem-solving strategies, prosocial behaviour, and social acceptance. International Journal of Behavioral Development, 26, 137–144. Pakaslahti, L., and Keltikangas-Järvinen, L. (2001). Peer-attributed prosocial behavior among aggressive/preferred, aggressive/non-preferred, non-aggressive/preferred, nonaggressive/non-preferred adolescents. Personality and Individual Differences, 30, 903–916. Patterson, G.R. (1982). Coercive family process. Eugene, Oreg.: Castalia. Raine, A. (1993). The psychopathology of crime: Criminal behavior as a clinical disorder. San Diego: Academic Press. Rodkin, P.C., Farmer, T.W., Pearl, R., Van Acker, R., Herrenkohl, T.I., Huang, B. et al. (2000). Heterogeneity of popular boys: Antisocial and prosocial configurations. A comparison of social development processes leading to violent behavior in late adolescence for childhood initiators and adolescent initiators of violence. Developmental Psychology, 36, 14–24. Rothbart, M.K., and Putnam, S.P. (2002). Temperament and socialization. In L. Pulkinnen and A. Caspi (Eds.), Paths to successful development. Personality in the life course (pp. 19–45). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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Rutter, M., Giller, H., and Hagell, A. (1998). Antisocial behavior by young people. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Silva, P.A., and Stanton, W.R. (1996). From child to adult. The Dunedin multidisciplinary health and development study. Auckland: Oxford University Press. Wikström, P.O.H. (1987). Patterns of crime in a birth cohort: Age, sex, and social class differences. Stockholm: Department of Sociology, University of Stockholm.

CHAPTER 7

The Ultimate Betrayal? Infidelity and Solidarity in Close Relationships Bram P. Buunk and Pieternel Dijkstra

There are probably few situations in which giving in to temptation may have such an impact on one’s personal life as when one engages in a sexual relationship with a person other than one’s spouse. Nevertheless, such temptation may occur at least once for most married individuals, especially when passion has left one’s marriage. When the marital relationship has gone sour, attention from another person may feel very rewarding and may lead to the temptation to be unfaithful (e.g., Atkins, Baucom, and Jacobson, 2001). Although some individuals may always be open to sex outside marriage, many married people may simply deny or ignore the possibility of extradyadic sex as they consider fidelity a matter of course. In general, becoming sexually involved outside one’s marriage runs counter to the basic notion of marriage and is usually perceived as an ultimate breach of trust that gravely endangers the emotional integrity of the marriage. Indeed, as illustrated by terms such as “adultery,” “cheating,” “infidelity,” and “unfaithfulness,” extramarital sexual involvement is generally considered a serious betrayal of one’s spouse. While an accidental one-night stand might be forgivable, few people if anyone can overcome the violation of trust that results from the discovery that one’s partner has for a long time been involved in an affair. Perhaps more than any other type of relationship, marital relationships are in general typically characterized by expectations of strong solidarity: there is an emphasis on equality, the relationship is supposed to have primacy over individual interests, and there is an expectation of sacrifice for the group in case of need (see Lindenberg, this volume). Furthermore, there exists a particular mental model of the marital relationship that is different from that of other relationships, and that specifies fidelity as a crucial form of prosocial behavior. The mental model of a marital relationship implies specific rules (e.g., “Spouses will not do anything that may hurt the other”), expectations about the other and from the other (e.g., “We expect each other to be faithful and honest”), normative expectations (e.g., “We are married and 111

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ought to behave according to the norm of fidelity”), and co-orientation (e.g., “We will both be faithful”). In this chapter, we describe how the attitudes and norms regarding extradyadic sex and the jealousy resulting from the infidelity of one’s partner reflect that this behavior is perceived as a serious breach of trust and as an undermining of the relationship, and we suggest that this may in part be explained from an evolutionary perspective. We examine from a social exchange perspective the relational dynamics associated with the negative emotional responses (in particular jealousy) to the fact that one’s partner engages in extradyadic sex, and we argue that, to a considerable extent, these responses reflect that adultery by one’s partner is experienced as a complete lack of solidarity. We also argue, however, that under some circumstances it is not the behavior as such, but rather the violation of agreed upon norms that leads to a negative emotional response. Finally, we analyze some of the factors that may induce people to refrain from or to engage in extradyadic sex. We link these analyses to the model of solidarity and prosocial behavior outlined by Lindenberg (this volume).

Attitudes and Norms Regarding Infidelity With the exception of isolated subcultures in certain historical periods, few cultures have viewed extradyadic sex positively (e.g., Ford and Beach, 1952). Although attitudes in some countries became somewhat more relaxed during the “sexual revolution” of the 1970s, in the past decades, attitudes in Western society have moved toward less freedom for extramarital sex (Thornton and Young-DeMarco, 2001). As a consequence, by the late 1990s, about 70% (Christopher and Sprecher, 2000) to 90% of American men and women (Thornton and Young-DeMarco, 2001) said they believed that extramarital sex was always or almost always wrong. In the Netherlands in 1997, about 78% considered extradyadic sex wrong (Sociaal en Cultureel Planbureau, 1998). In addition, extradyadic relationships that do not have an explicit sexual content such as having dinner in a secluded place, dancing, or spending a few days in a secluded cabin are widely condemned, as there is a possibility that they may develop into a sexual relationship (e.g., Weis and Felton, 1987). The potential threat of adultery to the primary relationship is illustrated by the fact that infidelity is a major cause of divorce cross-culturally (Betzig, 1989). Nevertheless, even in current society, there is variety in the degree of disapproval. Attitudes toward extramarital relationships are stricter in certain ethnic and religious groups than in other groups (Buunk and Dijkstra, 2000), and not everyone always views extradyadic sex as a lack of prosocial behavior. Only very small minorities have a positive

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attitude toward extramarital sexual relationships, but there are many individuals who find such behavior understandable under certain circumstances, for instance, when a person is physically or mentally abused in the marital relationship. The strong solidarity that is expected in marital relationships to refrain from infidelity may be understood from an evolutionary perspective. Unlike other primates such as chimpanzees and bonobos, humans engage in pair bonding, a pattern that probably coevolved with the helplessness of humans at birth and for years afterward. However, humans have been called qualified monogamists (Zeifman and Hazan, 1997) because they are, despite their inclination to form monogamous pair bonds, also inclined to seek extradyadic sexual relationships as this may have reproductive benefits for men as well as women. Therefore, the stability of the pair bond and thus one’s own reproductive success may be threatened by infidelity of the spouse, which explains why people tend to develop and reinforce norms where extradyadic sex is met with disapproval. Although investing in a longterm relationship has reproductive benefits for both genders, for females such investment is virtually a necessity to produce offspring who will survive to reproduce. In contrast, men have the potential to invest minimally—only one act of sexual intercourse is sufficient. As a consequence, through the course of evolution, men evolved a stronger tendency than women to be open to casual extradyadic sex (“shortterm mating”), more or less independent of the state of their marital relationship, and men can afford to be less selective in choosing partners for such casual encounters than females (Buss, 1994; Symons, 1979). Nevertheless, several specific hypotheses have recently been forwarded about the potential benefits women might have derived from engaging in extramarital sex in our ancestral past, such as the resource hypothesis (e.g., acquiring immediate access to resources), the genetic hypothesis (e.g., benefiting from genetically diverse offspring), the mate-switching hypothesis (e.g., replacing the primary mate with a better mate), the “good” genes hypothesis (e.g., being impregnated by a mate with better genes than the primary partner), and the matemanipulation hypothesis (e.g., deterring a partner from committing future acts of infidelity). Most strongly supported have been the mateswitching, resource-acquisition (Greiling and Buss, 2000), and the “good” genes hypotheses (Scheib, 2001). Related to the fact that extradyadic sex may have different reproductive benefits for men than for women, jealousy has in part a different meaning for men than for women. In the course of evolution, males have confronted a problem not encountered by females: the problem of uncertainty with regard to the paternity of their offspring. When their partner is sexually unfaithful, men may, unknowingly, invest heavily in another man’s offspring without passing on his own genes. Because

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investing in genetically unrelated offspring involves substantial reproductive cost to the male, evolutionary psychologists have suggested that men’s jealousy is elicited primarily by signs of a partner’s sexual infidelity (Daly, Wilson, and Weghorst, 1982; Okami and Shackelford, 2001; Symons, 1979). Females, on the other hand, do not suffer from uncertainty concerning the maternity of their offspring. They risk, however, the loss of a male’s resources if he directs his resources to alternative partners (Trivers, 1972). Because males can minimize their investments while having sex with females, in particular signs of an emotional bond may be reliable indicators to a woman of the risk of having to share her partner’s resources with another woman, or of losing her partner—and thus his resources—to another woman. Therefore, jealousy in women is aroused basically by signs of a partner’s emotional unfaithfulness (Baker, 1996; Buss, Larsen, Westen, and Semmelroth, 1992). Although support for this is not unequivocal, there is considerable evidence from a variety of societies for such sex differences, suggesting that in this respect the preferred form of solidarity is somewhat different for men than for women: men particularly value sexual fidelity, and women particularly value emotional fidelity (e.g., Buss et al., 1999; Buunk, Angleitner, Oubaid, and Buss, 1996; Buunk and Dijkstra, 2003; Cann, Mangum, and Wells, 2001; Pietrzak, Laird, Stevens, and Thompson, 2002).

An Exchange Theoretical Analysis of Jealousy The evolutionary perspective primarily explains why people generally perceive extradyadic sex as a serious threat, and how men and women differ in this respect. In contrast, a social exchange perspective may contribute to an understanding of how infidelity and jealousy are related to processes in the marital relationship (see Sprecher, 1998). According to social exchange theory, to obtain rewards, individuals have to provide rewards themselves and to make sure that the costs to the other of providing rewards are not too high. Individuals feel uncomfortable not only in situations in which the other is indebted to them, but also in situations in which they are indebted to the other (e.g., Burgess and Huston, 1979; Buunk and Schaufeli, 1999; Walster, Walster, and Berscheid, 1978). In the early stages of a relationship, partners may produce rewards for the other without expecting immediate returns in order to show their altruistic interest in the other (Mills and Clark, 1982), but may simultaneously monitor the degree of an overall fair exchange rather closely, and attend to the possibility of receiving better outcomes elsewhere. In the course of the relationship, however, a narrow focus on a fair exchange usually disappears as the partners become interdependent, and as the positive experiences of


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one may vicariously become rewards for the other (“I am happy because he/she is happy”) (e.g., Kelley and Thibaut, 1978; Rusbult and Buunk, 1993). In a close relationship, a joint production of outcomes usually occurs: in their intimate interaction, individuals produce unique outcomes for themselves and their partners that are specific to the relationship, and that cannot be substituted by other outcomes. Joint production enhances the likelihood that people will enter a normative frame (see Lindenberg, this volume). From a social exchange perspective, a person may perceive a partner’s infidelity as contributing to the costs of their relationship, even though the unfaithful partner may seek extradyadic sex to restore his or her own perception of fairness in the relationship (Buunk, 1991). However, probably one of the major reasons why extradyadic sex by one’s partner evokes such strong emotional reactions is that it represents a transformation from the person considering the couple’s joint outcomes to the person making decisions on the basis of appraisals that are based on individualistic outcomes. The partner’s extradyadic sexual behavior may function as a negative relational signal, and may lead to a complete reframing of the relationship from a solidary to an opportunistic relationship (see Lindenberg, this volume). Furthermore, in intimate relationships, the value of various rewards is raised by the fact that the partner provides these rewards only to us. By virtue of the fact that the partner shows romantic interest in another person, some of these rewards are lost, and when the partner provides rewards to a third person that are similar to those he or she provides to oneself, these rewards may lose much of their meaning. In addition, the partner’s behavior may make it more difficult to experience jointly produced outcomes as the partner now spends time with another person. Finally, the attraction to the rival may be interpreted as meaning that, in some ways, the current relationship is unsatisfactory for the partner, and that another person is considered more attractive than oneself. This may induce the perception that the partner is not very motivated to put energy into the primary relationship, and might even end this relationship. In line with these analyses, research by Buunk (1991) showed that perceptions in response to the partner’s extramarital behavior included no longer being the only one for the partner, receiving less love and attention than before, being excluded from the activities of the partner, and feeling that the partner enjoyed certain things more with the other (rivalry, cf. Dijkstra and Buunk, 1998). According to social exchange theory, the most satisfying situation probably exists when partners agree on their degree of extradyadic involvement. This is the case when a certain degree of involvement (whether occasionally dancing with another person at a party or having friends of the opposite sex) is desired by both partners, and when both feel comfortable with accepting that level of extradyadic involvement of

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the other. It seems likely that such a situation is generally perceived as fairest, and aiming at such fairness is, as noted by Lindenberg (this volume), one form of prosocial behavior. The mental image of a marital relationship is characterized by equality, and a couple is likely to want to prevent the status differences that would arise when one partner is more involved in extradyadic relationships than the other. Indeed, the level of extradyadic involvement individuals accept from their partner seems to correspond quite closely with the level they claim for themselves (e.g., only having nonsexual friendships, flirting, having onenight stands, e.g., Buunk, 1982). Buunk (1995) even found that those who had been involved in extradyadic sex indicated that they would respond with fewer feelings of betrayal and anger if their partner were to do the same as opposed to individuals who had always been faithful. In the course of a relationship, partners become more dependent on each other: individuals develop the ability to control and influence each other’s outcomes. Dependency is directly determined by the Comparison Level for Alternatives (CLalt): the lowest level of outcomes a person will accept in light of perceived alternative opportunities. Thus, the lower the CLalt, the lower the perceived chance of obtaining a partner as attractive as the current partner and the less attractive the option of living without the partner is perceived to be (Rusbult and Buunk, 1993; Thibaut and Kelley, 1959). Individuals who are more dependent experience more frequent and more intense jealousy. Indeed, as such individuals perceive few alternatives as attractive as the current relationship, they may easily adopt a loss frame when their partner is interested in someone else. Hansen (1985), for instance, found that, regardless of the actual quality of their marriage, individuals who viewed themselves as having few alternatives to their present marriages were more likely to experience jealousy. Violent jealousy of males has also been linked to dependency (e.g., Holtzworth-Munroe, Stuart, and Hutchinson, 1997). A study by Buunk (1995) showed that those high in emotional dependency responded with more feelings of anger and disappointment to the possibility of their partner engaging in extradyadic sex. To ensure a satisfying exchange of benefits and joint production of valued outcomes, norms and rules develop in a relationship that are accepted by both partners and that both feel obligated to adhere to. Norms guarantee predictability, eliminate unsatisfactory behaviors from the relationship, guard against the abuse of power, enhance the cohesion of the relationship, reduce uncertainty, and often increase the outcomes attained by both partners (Thibaut and Kelley, 1959, pp. 130–147). Peplau (1983) has noted that norms in relationships can arise in two major ways. As the dependency between partners increases, norms may be developed during a relationship (“Let’s both not flirt with others”), but, from the beginning of the relationship, norms may also be adapted as self-evident from the larger social environment (“Everyone agrees that


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extramarital relationships are wrong no matter what”). A person in a social context where norms dictate that adultery is wrong may feel justified in blaming the partner for his or her moral transgression, and may thus have a strong instrument at his or her disposal to obtain compliance from the potentially or actually adulterous partner. The person may induce feelings of guilt by emphasizing the betrayal and the lack of solidarity that extradyadic sexual involvement implies. In a study by Buunk (1991), it was found that the major response to infidelity of the spouse was anger-disappointment, including feeling angry, betrayed, humiliated, cheated, and unjustly treated. This response correlated highly with normative disapproval (measured by items such as “extramarital sex is always wrong” and “extramarital relationships cannot be excused”). These findings illustrate quite clearly that a sense of norms and values being violated may be an important aspect of jealousy (see also Drigotas and Barta, 2001). Although the norm that includes radical disapproval of extradyadic sex is widely accepted, under some conditions, couples may develop specific ground rules stating that under certain circumstances extradyadic relationships are allowed. The primary function of such rules is to protecting the primary relationship from the possible negative consequences of extradyadic sexual relationships. Extradyadic sex that occurs under the circumstances specified by the groundrules is not perceived as reflecting a lack of solidarity. Only when such rules are broken is the partner’s behavior interpreted as a lack of solidarity. Various ground rules were identified by Buunk (1980); these included “marriage primacy” (e.g., “You always put your own marriage first,” “You are completely honest with your spouse”), “restricted intensity” (e.g., “There is only a casual contact”), “visibility” (e.g., “Your spouse knows the outside partner”) and “invisibility” (e.g., “Your spouse is not too aware of it”), and “mate exchange.” Over time, adherence to such groundrules appeared to lead to a reduction of jealousy (Buunk, 1987). These findings seem to suggest that there are couples who, under certain conditions, may be able to modify the perception of extradyadic sex as reflecting a lack of solidarity.

Engaging in Extradyadic Sex Versus Resisting Temptation Given the potential reproductive benefits of extradyadic sex and the strong motivational factors underlying this behavior, solidarity in the sense of being consistently faithful may sometimes be difficult. For instance, when a person perceives his or her relationship to be unfair from an exchange point of view, he or she may feel entitled to obtain the extra rewards from a supplementary relationship and engage in extradyadic relationships in an attempt to restore perceptions of fairness (see also Hatfield, Traupmann, and Walster, 1978; Hatfield, Utne,

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and Traupmann, 1979; Prins, Buunk, and Van Yperen, 1993; Sprecher, 1998). A major manifestation of high solidarity with the primary relationship would be a person making active attempts to avoid getting involved in extradyadic relationships and to resist temptation. Following Lindenberg’s five kinds of prosocial behavior, two forms of prosocial behavior are particularly relevant in the present context: fairness, that is, individuals refrain from behavior that they would not accept in their partner, and trustworthiness, abstaining from breach temptations (i.e., refraining from hurting the other by forsaking a potentially exciting extradyadic affair). Interestingly, while there is a quite extensive literature on the determinants of extradyadic sex, few researchers have examined the factors that may affect the decision not to become involved in sex outside one’s primary relationship. Of course, all the factors that are related to extradyadic willingness and desires are in the opposite way related to refraining from it. It is, however, important to make a distinction between extradyadic sexual desires, which probably a majority of people experience at times, and extradyadic willingness (i.e., the willingness to engage in extradyadic sex if the opportunity were to present itself). There may be a large discrepancy between these phenomena, as most people may feel that turning their desires into reality may undermine and endanger what they consider to be the most important relationship in their lives. Commitment is an important factor affecting the willingness to become involved in extradyadic sex. According to Rusbult (1983), commitment is the subjective representation of dependency, experienced as a feeling of psychological attachment to the partner, accompanied by the desire to maintain the relationship. A high degree of commitment may, in terms of Lindenberg’s model (this volume), be associated with a normative frame in which hedonic goals are pushed to the background, and the desire to act in line with the norms prevailing in the relationship and in the wider societal context becomes salient. There is evidence that extradyadic sex may be particularly likely to occur in relationships characterized by low dependency or low commitment, and, vice versa, that those who remain faithful exhibit higher levels of dependency and commitment. Drigotas, Safstrom, and Gentilia (1999) even found the level of commitment to the relationship to predict infidelity over a 2-month period. In an interesting experiment, Johnson and Rusbult (1989) showed that those with low commitment perceived attractive others of the opposite sex realistically as more attractive than nonattractive others, whereas those high in commitment evaluated the attractiveness of attractive others as similar to that of unattractive others; put differently, those high in commitment tended to derogate from attractive potential partners—exactly as a person with a normative frame would do. A study by Buunk and Bakker (1997) demonstrated that commitment to the


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steady partner was an important determinant of the willingness to refrain from extradyadic sexual relationships. Moreover, the results showed that the more individuals felt committed to the steady partner, the more they were inclined to use condoms in extradyadic sexual contacts, and the more they tended to take into account the interests of their primary partner if they practiced unsafe extradyadic sex. That is, those highly committed to their partner expressed a relatively strong willingness to inform the steady partner about unsafe extradyadic sex, and to protect the steady partner against the possible risk of HIV infection after unsafe extradyadic sex, by always using condoms, or by taking an HIV-antibody test. This was also true for those with actual experience with extradyadic sex. It is interesting to note that individuals who are inclined to engage in a form of behavior that is generally considered to exhibit an extreme lack of solidarity still demonstrate, in terms of Lindenberg’s model (this volume), considerateness (i.e., the readiness to avoid harming the partner and to take his or her interests into account where the consequences of their behavior are concerned). Fidelity and infidelity are dependent not only on dependence and commitment in the relationship, but also on dispositional factors. Such factors may affect the way in which the relationship is framed, and may thus influence whether individuals remain faithful (see also Van der Zee and Perugini, this volume). There is, for example, evidence that individuals who remain faithful to their partners are relatively often characterized by higher levels of well-being and emotional stability, and that, vice versa, those who seek out extradyadic sex may suffer from various mental health problems. For example, dating infidelity has been found to be related to a lower self-esteem (Sheppard, Nelson, and Andreoli-Mathie, 1995), and Apt and Hurlbert (1994) found that women with a histrionic personality disorder (characterized by helplessness and dependency, sensitivity to criticism, identity disturbances, marked mood swings, and impulsivity) were relatively more likely to enter an affair. In a study among couples in their first year of marriage, Buss and Schackelford (1997) found that, in general, the personality characteristics of the wife were better predictors of her susceptibility to infidelity as perceived by herself and her husband. Such susceptibility was found more among women low in conscientiousness, low in emotional stability, and high in narcissism. In part, the personality characteristics examined in these studies may reflect insecure attachment styles (Buunk, 1997). Bogaert and Sadava (2002) found that individuals, especially women, who scored high on an anxious attachment index not only had more lifetime partners but were also more unfaithful. In addition, Hazan, Zeifman, and Middleton (1994) found that anxious, ambivalently attached individuals more often engaged in one-night stands, and Miller and Fishkin (1997) found that avoiding and anxiously attached

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men (but not women) sought many more partners over a 30-year period than did securely attached men. It seems that such personality characteristics support, in the terms of Lindenberg’s model (this volume), a hedonic rather than a normative frame. In addition to dispositional factors, the situation plays an important role in fostering or preventing extradyadic sex. Even emotionally stable individuals with strong moral objections against infidelity may in certain situations give in to the temptation of infidelity. In terms of Lindenberg’s model, in such a situation, there may be a strong framing effect, in which a hedonic frame becomes very salient because the supports of the (a priori weaker) normative frame are weakened. As a result, the attractiveness of the third person and various excuses are pushed into the foreground, and the potential detrimental effects on the marital relationship are pushed into the background. The overriding goal in such a situation may be to satisfy one’s desires for excitement, romance, and passion. In some cases, individuals may perceive a temptation as having no choice (e.g., when they are away from home and have already spent much time with a person of the opposite sex). Given factors such as the potential risk to their primary relationship, feelings of guilt and anxiety, and fears of pregnancy and venereal disease, becoming involved in extramarital relationships often implies a decision-making process in which the costs and benefits are identified and compared with the expected values of alternative decisions. Framing processes may influence which aspects are primarily considered. It seems that a hedonic frame is more salient in the decision-making process among men, while a normative frame is more salient in the decision-making process among women. For example, Meyering and Epling-McWerther (1986) found that, in such a decision-making process, men were affected more by the perceived payoffs, including variation, and women more by the costs, including the probability of strong guilt feelings and the marriage being negatively affected. This difference is confirmed by the finding of Atwater (1979) that women usually only gradually developed an openness to engaging in an affair, and that a number of factors fostered such openness, including invitations from men, and factors that reduced the guilt feelings, such as having a friend who had an affair, and talking with friends about the pros and cons of having an affair. Such factors gradually legitimized the involvement in an affair (see also Spanier and Margolis, 1983). The actual occurrence of infidelity, of course, depends on opportunity. A social environment with relatively favorable norms regarding extradyadic sex constitutes such an opportunity. Buunk and Bakker (1995) showed that, in addition to positive attitudes and having been involved in extradyadic sex in the past, descriptive norms (the perception that relatively many of one’s friends had been, or would get, involved in extradyadic sex) and injunctive norms (the perception that one’s friends


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do not disapprove of extradyadic sex) were independent predictors of the willingness to engage in extradyadic sex.

Conclusion Given the importance of human pair bonding for the survival of offspring, it is not difficult to understand why refraining from extradyadic sex is generally viewed as important and why this behavior is perceived as a serious breach of trust and as detrimental to the relationship. Because of their different reproductive interests, it seems that for men the sexual aspect of infidelity, while for women the emotional aspect of infidelity, is particularly upsetting. Although an evolutionary perspective explains the overall importance of jealousy, a social exchange perspective and Lindenberg’s model shed light on how jealousy is related to the relational dynamics, including the way the relationship is framed, the loss of unique and jointly produced outcomes, the disturbance of a fair exchange, the threat of losing the partner due to high dependency, and the violation of central norms. The partner’s extradyadic sexual behavior may function as a negative relational signal and may lead to a reframing of the relationship as an opportunistic relationship instead of a solidary relationship. Under some circumstances, however, extradyadic sex may not be a threat when it conforms to relationship norms specifying the conditions under which it is allowed. The strong emotional responses to adultery of the spouse seem to be an evolutionarily determined response to the omnipresent temptation to give in to extradyadic sex. Indeed, the temptation to engage in extradyadic sex, the strong norms according to which extradyadic sex is disapproved of, and the tendency to respond with jealousy to such behavior by one’s partner seem to be interrelated and universal human phenomena that are all part of our human evolutionary heritage. From this perspective, it is no surprise that extradyadic sexual relationships often seem to entail a combination of high costs and rewards. Nevertheless, there is considerable variation across individuals, relationships, and situations in the likelihood of becoming involved in extradyadic sex. As with other forms of forsaking solidary and prosocial responses, situational pressures such as a favorable normative climate also play an important role in this context. Furthermore, the tendency to engage in extradyadic sex is less likely to occur in relationships characterized by dependency and commitment that seem to induce a normative frame, and is more likely to occur in individuals characterized by impulsiveness and mood swings that might induce a hedonic frame. The findings presented in the present chapter illustrate that not only the partners of those who give in to the temptation to engage in an affair, but also society at large, as well as adulterous individuals themselves (although probably to a lesser extent), all tend to view such behavior as a serious breach of solidarity.

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CHAPTER 8

Understanding the Joint Effects of Interdependence and Diversity on Solidarity in Work Teams Gerben van der Vegt and Andreas Flache

In recent decades, modern work organizations have increasingly faced two trends that seem to be of crucial importance for the solidarity and performance of work teams. First, as a result of downsizing, reengineering, and increased information load, the degree and intensity of interdependence among organizational members has increased substantially (Hackman, 1990). The reason for this is that many employees who previously worked individually have been reorganized into work groups or teams (e.g., Sundstrom, De Meuse, and Futrell, 1990). Second, organizations, and consequently the work teams within them, have become more diverse owing to the changing demographics of the workforce (Bowers, Pharmer, and Salas, 2000; Webber and Donahue, 2001; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998). More people of different ethnical backgrounds, gender, age, skills, and abilities have entered organizations and are required to work together effectively in work groups or teams. These tendencies toward more interdependence and diversity make solidarity within work teams more necessary for team performance, and simultaneously put this solidarity under pressure. While several authors have highlighted the importance of solidarity among interdependent members in work teams (e.g., Northcraft, Polzer, Neale, and Kramer, 1995), research suggests that the interpersonal differences among team members may negatively affect their solidary behavior (Webber and Donahue, 2001). Accordingly, organization researchers pay increasing attention to the effects and underlying mechanisms that relate interdependence and diversity to solidarity. The aim of our review of this literature is to show that the framing approach proposed in this book (Lindenberg, this volume; Lindenberg, Fetchenhauer, Flache, and Buunk, this volume) is a powerful tool to integrate and explain the complex empirical findings generated by these recent research efforts. 125

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In the first two sections of this chapter, we will review organizational research that investigated how interdependence and dissimilarity affect solidarity in organizational work teams. In the third section, we will discuss the findings of some recent studies in which the joint impact of interdependence and diversity on solidarity was examined. In each of the sections, we connect the findings from research to the book’s general framework. We will end with suggestions for future research. For the purpose of this review, we defined solidarity in the workplace broadly as behaviors such as helping colleagues and showing loyalty to the organization. Thus, we were mainly concerned with employees’ behavior toward the work organization and their colleagues. In the literature on organizational behavior, solidarity is often defined in terms of behavior, but covered by attitudinal measures such as team commitment, cohesion, and feelings of belongingness. For that reason, we will also report the results of studies in which solidarity was measured in terms of attitudes rather than behavior. These attitudes and behaviors associated with solidarity are generally assumed to be important for the viability of work teams (Tyler and Blader, 2001). They lubricate the social machinery of the group and provide the flexibility needed to work through many unforeseen contingencies. Although common, the occurrence of these behaviors within groups cannot be assumed. Competing forces, such as personal interests, the tendency to “free-ride,” and even the inclination to retaliate against the group may impede them (Tyler and Blader, 2001).

Interdependence and Solidarity Members of work groups necessarily find themselves in situations characterized by some form or type of interdependence (Sundstrom et al., 1990). They depend on each other not only for the successful completion of their jobs but also for the achievement of goals and desired outcomes. In general, interdependence can be divided into interdependence around work inputs and interdependence around work outcomes (Wageman, 2001). A number of authors refer to these basic forms of interdependence as task interdependence and outcome interdependence (Johnson and Johnson, 1989; Saavedra, Earley, and Van Dyne, 1993; Shea and Guzzo, 1987; Wageman, 1995, 2001). Task interdependence is a structural feature of the instrumental relations that exist between team members. It is shaped by the jobs that the members must perform within their teams. Team members are task interdependent when they must share materials, information, or expertise in order to achieve the desired output or performance. Outcome interdependence is generally defined as the degree to which

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shared significant consequences of work are contingent on collective performance of the tasks (Wageman, 2001). This definition includes reward interdependencies or tangible outcomes that accrue to the group as a whole (such as group bonus payments), as well as goal and feedback interdependence, which refers to the specification and measurement of collective output. Team members are outcome interdependent when they receive rewards for collective performance (Shea and Guzzo, 1987), are presented with group goals (e.g., Deutsch, 1973; Thomas, 1957), or receive group feedback about goal attainment (e.g., Campion, Medsker, and Higgs, 1993; Saavedra et al., 1993). Task and outcome interdependence have both been cited as important influences on the degree of helping (Hayes, 1976; Shaw, 1973) and cooperation in teams (Pearce and Gregersen, 1991). With increasing levels of task interdependence, the interactive nature of the work itself enhances the degree of responsibility felt for other team members’ outcomes (Kiggundu, 1983; Pearce and Gregersen, 1991), and encourages an open flow of communication (Thompson, 1967). Higher levels of task interdependence are also known to increase recognition of the need for coordination of effort and the need to help solve problems that arise (Anderson and Williams, 1996). Finally, the possibility of punishing or rewarding the behaviors of interdependent others has been shown to motivate task interdependent team members to subjugate personal interests for collective interests (Mudrack, 1989; Murnighan and Conlon, 1991). With regard to outcome interdependence, hundreds of studies originating from Deutsch’s (1949) interdependence theory have shown the positive effects of group goals and group rewards on the creation of caring and committed relationships, and collaborative behavior (for a review, see Johnson and Johnson, 1989). In addition, a substantial body of research dealing with goal setting has shown group goals to stimulate cooperation, especially when paired with collective performance feedback (for a review, see O’Leary-Kelly, Martocchio, and Frink, 1994). These studies showed collective goals, feedback, and rewards to focus the attention of group members on collective rather than individual success. In much past research, task and outcome interdependence were seen as substitutes for one another in their effect on solidarity. That is, increasing either task or outcome interdependence was expected to produce greater solidarity (Wageman, 2001). Some researchers have argued that the two interact to influence solidarity-related outcomes. Saavedra et al. (1993), for example, conducted an experiment in which the members of 118 three-person groups worked on a performanceappraisal task under different levels of task interdependence and received either group or individual goals and group or individual feedback. Their results showed tasks, goals, and feedback to interactively

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affect perceived intragroup cooperation. Combinations of congruent low-low or high-high task and outcome interdependence were found to be superior to incongruent low-high or high-low combinations of task and outcome interdependence. This finding is in line with the findings of earlier studies of the effects of individualistic and collective reward systems under conditions of low and high task interdependence (Miller and Hamblin, 1963; Rosenbaum et al., 1980). In addition, Wageman (1995) examined both the main and the interactive effects of task and outcome interdependence in a field setting. The effects of the existing task design and a manipulated reward system on group functioning were examined. Group, hybrid, and individual reward systems were created in a large corporation for 152 teams of technicians with group, hybrid, or individual tasks. The teams were found to perform best when their tasks and outcomes were either purely group or purely individual, thereby supporting the congruence hypothesis. The hybrid groups were found to perform quite poorly, have low-quality interaction processes, and be characterized by low member motivation and satisfaction. Van der Vegt, Emans, and Van de Vliert (2000, 2001) examined the main and interactive effects of task and outcome interdependence on team commitment. In line with previous research, outcome interdependence was operationalized as a group-level variable, reflecting the extent to which team members received group goals and group feedback, whereas task interdependence was operationalized as an individual-level variable, reflecting the extent to which individual team members needed other team members to complete their jobs. In line with previous research, the results of their study revealed that individual-level task interdependence was positively related to individual team commitment. They found no direct positive effect of outcome interdependence on team commitment. However, cross-level interactions showed that the positive relations between task interdependence and team commitment were stronger in high-outcome interdependent teams than in low-outcome interdependent teams. A proper match between high individual task interdependence and high group-level outcome interdependence was found to produce more team commitment than low-high and high-low mismatches. We argue that this pattern of effects is consistent with the theoretical perspective laid out in Chapters 1 and 2 of this volume. The central point in our argument is that high outcome interdependence, in particular group feedback about goal attainment (e.g., Campion et al., 1993; Saavedra et al., 1993), shapes the way actors frame the situation. While group feedback does not increase the extent of task interdependence, it increases the strength of actors’ solidarity frame, that is, the salience of the motive to act appropriately in terms of group obligations (cf. Lindenberg 1998). Under low task interdependence, a normative frame triggered by group feedback may actually have detrimental effects on


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team commitment, but under high task interdependence, it may greatly foster team commitment. When task interdependence is low and outcome interdependence is high, actors may frame the situation only initially in terms of solidarity with their peers. The problem is that the lack of tangible task interdependence causes strong temptation occasionally to free-ride in group efforts or invest in private rather than group success. This generates mismatches between perceived norms and actual behavior, with the consequence that conflicts between group members weaken the motive of peer solidarity. In that case, the resulting level of team commitment would be even worse under high outcome dependence than with low outcome interdependence. This is because, under low outcome interdependence, actors frame the situation from the outset in terms of gain and at least no conflicts arise about the legitimacy of gain-oriented individualistic behavior. With high task interdependence, not only does outcome interdependence strengthen normative frames initially, but the ensuing team process may stabilize such frames persistently. The greater the task interdependence, the greater the damage that lack of solidary behavior can do to team interests. Accordingly, when task interdependence is high and high outcome interdependence has strengthened team members’ normative frames in the first place, then it is likely that the temptation to behave opportunistically is more than counterbalanced by the strongly negative evaluation of this behavior in the light of the salient goal to comply with team obligations. As a consequence, team members would show a higher level of commitment in this high-high congruent match than in a situation where task interdependence is high but outcome interdependence is low. In the latter case, some level of team commitment may still arise owing to instrumental cooperation between team members based on calculated reciprocity. Task interdependence creates the possibility and the need for this instrumental cooperation. Accordingly, it is consistent with a framing point of view that task interdependence fosters team commitment even when group members frame the situation in terms of gain (low outcome interdependence). However, outcome interdependence increases this positive effect, because with the stabilizing effect of a prominent solidarity motive, cooperation is much less precarious and less likely to suffer from occasional mishaps or the temptation to free-ride on colleagues’ efforts.

Group Diversity and Solidarity Employees of modern organizations work not only under different interdependence conditions, but also with other individuals who may differ from themselves. As a result of the changing demographics of the labor force, teams are becoming more diverse on a large number of

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demographic attributes (Williams and O’Reilly, 1998; Webber and Donahue, 2001; cf. Van der Zee, this volume). Moreover, work teams are increasingly assembled from individuals varying in knowledge, skills, abilities, and attitudes (Bowers et al., 2000). This work-group diversity has been shown to have detrimental effects on elements of solidarity. The majority of studies in which such negative effects were examined were predicated upon self-categorization theory (Williams and O’Reilly, 1998). Self-categorization theory and research (Hogg and Abrams, 1988; Turner, 1987) posits that individuals use salient characteristics to define themselves and others as members of social categories (i.e., categorization). When people compare themselves with other team members on the basis of these characteristics, cognitions about their relative similarity to or dissimilarity from the other team members are invoked. Others are perceived either as members of the same category as oneself or as members of a category different from oneself. One of the consequences of this categorization process is the accentuation of the positive features of members who belong to the same category and of the negative features of dissimilar others. The aim of this differentiation is to reduce uncertainty and to maintain perceptions of superiority over dissimilar others in order to create the desired positive social identity. When dissimilarity is salient, feeling dissimilar from other team members leads to the experience of social distance and leaves a person vulnerable to stigmatization and potential rejection (Brewer, 1991). A typical example is a woman working together with 10 male colleagues. Individual team members who are more dissimilar from the other team members are less likely to identify with the team as a collective entity. Consistent with this categorization perspective, diversity in such attributes as age, gender, and race has been shown to have detrimental effects. In general, research has shown that demographic differences among group members result in increased communication problems, conflict, and turnover (e.g., Jehn, Northcraft, and Neale, 1999), and in decreased interpersonal attraction and cohesion (for reviews, see Milliken and Martins, 1996; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998). These negative effects of perceived dissimilarity are consistent with categorization theory, and can also be explained by Lindenberg’s framing theory (see Lindenberg, 1998; Lindenberg, this volume). Within a framing perspective, it is a major threat to the stability of solidarity motives when group members differ in their perceptions of what kinds of behavior are appropriate and in line with group norms. Even when all group members frame the situation in terms of normative obligations, in a demographically dissimilar group this may lead some actors to behave in a way that reflects solidarity from their own point of view, but that others may consider a sign of opportunistic motivation. For


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example, when time pressure is high, members of Western cultures may see it as a clear indication of lack of commitment to the task when they see colleagues from, for example, Islamic cultures taking time to chat and socialize at work. Conversely, these colleagues may feel that it is a sign of a lack of concern for the group when some of their co-workers entirely abstain from socializing and focus exclusively on their work. For both sides, such perceived negative relational signals may result in a weakening of their solidarity frames, putting team commitment and cooperation with colleagues under pressure.

Joint Effects of Interdependence and Group Diversity on Solidarity Numerous studies have documented the effects of either interdependence or diversity on several aspects of solidarity, but it is only recently that the joint effects of interdependence and diversity in organizational work groups came under investigation. Van der Vegt and his colleagues conducted two field studies (Van der Vegt and Van de Vliert, 2005; Van der Vegt, Van de Vliert, and Oosterhof, 2003) to investigate the substantive and joint effects of task interdependence, outcome interdependence, and group diversity on several elements of solidarity, including team identification, helping, and loyalty. In the first study (Van der Vegt and Van de Vliert, 2005), support was found for an interaction between dissimilarity and task interdependence. The joint effects of task interdependence and perceived dissimilarity on individual team members’ helping behavior (the extent to which a person voluntarily helps other team members in need) were investigated. Data were gathered during a management simulation in which 20 teams of business-school students worked under conditions of high outcome interdependence. This high level of outcome interdependence was fixed and the effect of this variable on solidarity could, therefore, not be investigated. Data were collected twice, with a one-week interval. Team members filled in questionnaires measuring task interdependence and perceived dissimilarity in knowledge, skills and abilities, and selfreported helping behavior. They also rated the helping behavior of the other team members. Consistent with the interdependence literature, task interdependence was found to be positively related to both selfreported and peer-rated helping behavior. Moreover, although perceived dissimilarity appeared not to be directly related to helping behavior, a significant interaction between task interdependence and perceived dissimilarity was found. Perceived dissimilarity was negatively related only to the self-reported and peer-rated helping behavior of team members who experienced low levels of task interdependence. Under conditions of high task interdependence, perceived dissimilarity was

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positively related to the self-reported and peer-rated helping behavior. The cooperative contact resulting from increased task interdependence reduced the potentially negative categorization effects of perceived dissimilarity and resulted in individuated impressions of dissimilar others (Gaertner, Mann, Dovidio, Murrel, and Pomare, 1990; Pettigrew, 1998). Moreover, cross-lagged panel analyses revealed that the direction of causality was from dissimilarity and task interdependence to helping behavior, rather than vice versa. In the second study (Van der Vegt et al., 2003), the generalizability of the results from the management simulation study to real-life organizational work groups was tested. The effect of outcome interdependence and the possible mediating effect of a person’s team identification were also examined. Data were gathered from 129 individuals distributed across 20 multidisciplinary teams in a telecommunications company. Solidary behavior was operationalized as helping behavior and loyal behavior (allegiance to the work group as a whole by transcending the parochial interests of individuals [Van Dyne, Graham, and Dienesch, 1994]). Based on the demographic group diversity literature (e.g., Milliken and Martins, 1996; Tsui and Gutek, 1999; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998), it was hypothesized that higher levels of demographic dissimilarity would elicit categorization processes, and would thereby lead to decreased team identification and decreased helping and loyal behavior. Although no uniform relationship was found between demographic dissimilarity and team identification, helping, and loyal behavior, the findings revealed that the effects of dissimilarity again strongly depended on the degree and type of intrateam interdependence. As expected, the negative effects of demographic dissimilarity were found to occur only under incongruent low-high or high-low combinations of task and outcome interdependence, and not under congruent low-low or high-high combinations of task and outcome interdependence (see Figure 8.1). The data showed that only when individual team members are interdependent in such a way that the behavior of other team members

0.5 0.4 0.3 0.2 0.1 0 −0.1 −0.2 −0.3 −0.4 −0.5

1b: Task Interdependence High 0.5 0.4 0.3 0.2 0.1 0 −0.1 −0.2 OI Low −0.3 −0.4 OI High −0.5 Low High Demographic Dissimilarity Helping Behavior

Helping Behavior

1a: Task Interdependence Low

Low High Demographic Dissimilarity

OI Low OI High

FIGURE 8.1. Effects of demographic dissimilarity on helping under conditions of congruent and incongruent task and outcome interdependence (OI)


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is likely to create uncertainty about their behavior (because of lower levels of cooperation or effort) do higher levels of dissimilarity make it more likely that they view themselves as different from the others, and make them less inclined to help or show loyalty toward other members (cf. Brickson, 2000). Moreover, the results of the two studies demonstrated that demographic dissimilarity is not necessarily undesirable in work teams. Under favorable conditions, the potentially negative outcomes of dissimilarity can be dampened, and the potential positive consequences can be stimulated. In particular, these results showed that the effects of diversity are highly context-dependent (Turner, Oakes, Haslam, and McGarthy, 1994; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998) and empirically supported the notion that interdependence and group diversity may jointly affect solidarity in organizational work teams (e.g., Milliken and Martins, 1996; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998). From a framing perspective, the joint effects of interdependence and dissimilarity shown in Figure 8.1 can to a large extent be explained with an integration of the mechanisms that we elaborated separately for the effects of dependence and similarity. We argued above that under conditions of incongruent task and outcome interdependence, group members will sooner or later come to frame the relationship with their colleagues primarily in terms of gain. Demographic dissimilarity may even amplify the negative effects of incongruence on the strength of normative frames. When task interdependence is low and outcome interdependence is high, then the initial strength of solidarity frames may gradually decline as a result of friction between team members caused by the temptation to behave opportunistically. Framing theory implies that demographic dissimilarity may even amplify these negative effects of temptation on solidary behavior. The reason for this is that even behavior of a team member that is intended as a reflection of solidarity may be perceived as opportunistic by dissimilar colleagues who hold divergent ideas about appropriate norms of conduct. In the same vein, demographic dissimilarity may also put normative frames under pressure when outcome interdependence is low but task interdependence is high. In this case, team members tend to frame the situation in terms of gain. Then, instrumental reciprocity between team members hinges critically on the extent to which solidarity motives, such as equity or fairness, are strong enough in the background to temper at least myopic opportunism that threatens to disrupt exchanges. However, demographic dissimilarity puts even the normative frame in the background under pressure, because signals concerning the quality of the interpersonal relationship between the different actors involved may be perceived in different ways by the exchange partners. For example, among members of modern liberal cultures it is considered appropriate that a group member who receives professional advice from a more experienced colleague may some time later advise this

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colleague on another matter. For team members from more traditional cultures, this intended reciprocation may appear disrespectful toward the more experienced group member and to be a violation of group obligations. Such mismatches may further weaken solidarity frames and thus reduce the capacity of solidarity motives to temper opportunism in exchanges between dissimilar group members. Although framing theory suggests that dissimilarity may amplify negative effects of incongruence, the perspective is also consistent with the finding that dissimilarity fosters helping behavior when task and outcome dependence are both high and congruent. Solidarity frames can be expected to be particularly strong when both forms of dependence are high. In that situation, the dominant goal of members is compliance with group obligations directed at team performance. When actors interpret the situation in such a way, demographic dissimilarities may foster helping behavior in two ways. Dissimilarity generates potential productivity gains from exchanging diverse knowledge and opinions, and it creates potential demand for help exchange between group members with complementary expertise. While dissimilarity may likewise make communication more difficult and misunderstandings more likely, group members are strongly motivated to overcome these obstacles for the sake of the group interest when the solidarity frame prevails in their perception of the situation. Figure 8.1 also shows a positive effect of dissimilarity when both forms of interdependence are low. An explanation for this could be that dissimilarity mainly increases the need for help exchange between dissimilar colleagues with complementary skills or expertise. Such exchanges can be established and stabilized purely through instrumental reciprocity. At the same time, dissimilarity should also make it more difficult for moderate solidarity motives to temper opportunistic temptation in instrumental exchanges. It seems that both effects more or less cancel out in the aggregate, generating the slightly positive effect of dissimilarity even when both forms of dependence are low.

Conclusions and Directions for Future Research We reviewed a selected number of studies focusing on the effects of interdependence and dissimilarity on solidarity in organizational work teams. We connected the findings from these studies to the book’s general framework and suggested that the mechanisms underlying both interdependence and group composition effects can be interpreted using the theoretical framework put forward in this book (see Lindenberg, this volume; Lindenberg et al., this volume). We believe that our effort helped to integrate previous theoretical perspectives on the effects of interdependence and group diversity, including social


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justice (Deutsch, 1973), similarity attraction (Byrne, 1971), and social categorization theories (Tsui, Egan, and O’Reilly, 1992). Although framing theory may explain the effects of interdependence and dissimilarity in work teams, to date the cognitive processes underlying the theory have not explicitly been tested. This remains an important challenge for future research. The framing perspective highlights the need to investigate the cognitive processes of team members as determinants of how actors view and interpret their situations, and the conditions and variables that influence these perceptions. However, in social interdependence research it is already widely acknowledged that it is the perception of the situation by team members, rather than the objective situation, that elicits interdependencebased patterns of behavior. As Deutsch argued in 1949, “An individual is not cooperative even though objectively he stands in a cooperative relation to others, when he does not perceive this relationship” (pp. 137–138). By contrast, most group diversity researchers continue to focus on the consequences of such objective demographic differences as tenure, age, and occupational background (for reviews, see Milliken and Martins, 1996; Tsui and Gutek, 1999; Williams and O’Reilly, 1998). Although in these studies demographic cues were assumed to affect a number of outcome variables through their impact on perceived dissimilarity (Northcraft et al., 1995), little research has explicitly focused on the psychological experience of dissimilarity and diversity in work groups. From the perspectives of both cognitive psychology and framing theory, future diversity research should examine how team and organizational structures influence information processing, and the consequent occurrence of the behaviors and attitudes that constitute solidarity in modern organizations. Consideration of such cognitive processes may provide an improved understanding of interdependence and diversity effects that will ultimately allow practitioners to maximize the positive and minimize the negative effects of interdependence and dissimilarity in groups in the workplace.

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CHAPTER 9

Employees’ Organizational Solidarity within Modern Organizations: A Framing Perspective on the Effects of Social Embeddedness Karin Sanders, Andreas Flache, Gerben van der Vegt, and Evert van de Vliert

Within modern organizations, hierarchical control by means of authority chains is often replaced by more horizontal organizational structures (Taplin, 1995). The basis for this development is the shift toward use of more flexible production technology by firms in reaction to less predictable markets, intensified global competition, and the microelectronic revolution. One of the characteristics of modern organizations is that employees bear a much larger responsibility for attaining production goals than in the classical hierarchical firm. Within modern organizations, employees often work in teams or groups where they are themselves responsible for the coordination and organization of their work, such as in management teams, project groups, or self-managing teams (Cohen and Bailey, 1997; Goodman, 1986). Such teams may be responsible for a department within a hospital or for the saving of a ship and its cargo, or be a special unit of the police. In modern teams, employees enjoy considerable autonomy and employers expect team members to show teamwork, voluntary participation, willingness to cooperate, and mutual informal control in order to keep the organization running (Appelbaum and Batt, 1994; Handy, 1995). Put differently, the employer needs solidary behavior from the employees. Accordingly, employees’ vertical or organizational solidarity (i.e., the solidarity of the employees with their organization) is viewed as one of the most important success factors within modern organizations (Wickens, 1995). Indeed, research has shown that organizational solidarity is positively related to, for example, employees’ performance (Sanders, Snijders, and Stokman, 1998), and negatively related to short-term absenteeism (Sanders, 2004; Sanders and Hoekstra, 1998; Sanders and Nauta, 2004). 141

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In this chapter, we explore to what extent a framing perspective based on Lindenberg’s framing theory (Lindenberg, this volume) can explain and identify determinants of employees’ organizational solidarity both at the level of organizational rules (formal and informal) and at the level of employees’ social relationships. Compared to previous research on solidarity within organizations, our focus on organizational solidarity is relatively new. Traditional research involved mainly the investigation of solidarity between employees in a conflict with the management or in the enforcement of local work group norms (Blau, 1955; Homans, 1974; Roethlisberger and Dickson, 1939; Seashore, 1954). We address instead employees’ solidary behavior in the employer-employee relationship, because in research into modern work organizations this aspect of solidarity at the workplace is seen as a key precondition for organizational performance. In a broader perspective, organizational solidarity can be seen as an element of the relationship between employee and employer, which involves in particular solidary behavior of the management or organization toward the employee. We do not address determinants of management’s solidary behavior toward employees, but focus on effects of management behavior on employees’ organizational solidarity. For the sake of brevity, we refer to employees’ organizational solidarity also as organizational solidarity or solidary behavior. Researchers in organizational and work psychology use many different labels to refer to organizational solidarity, such as organizational citizenship behavior (Organ, 1997; Podsakoff, MacKenzie, Paine, and Bachrach, 2000), willingness to cooperate (Katz, 1964), and extra-role or contextual performance (Motowidlo, Borman, and Schmitt, 1997; Motowidlo and Van Scotter, 1994; Organ, 1997; Organ and Lingl, 1995; Van Dyne, 1994; Van Dyne, Graham, and Richard, 1995). Probably the most frequently studied form of solidary behavior is organizational citizenship behavior (OCB) (Organ, 1997). This concerns employee behavior that has an overall positive effect on the functioning of the organization and that cannot be enforced by the employment contract. Adopting a more sociological perspective, but consistent with previous research, we conceive of solidary behavior as behavior that occurs if employees within organizations contribute to the success of the team or organization, are prepared to help others in need, resist the temptation to let other members do most of the work, share responsibilities, and are prepared to apologize for mistakes (Lindenberg, 1998; see also Lindenberg, Fetchenhauer, Flache, and Buunk, this volume). Examples of solidary behavior of the employee toward the employer are willingness to work overtime, to help colleagues with their jobs for the organization, and to engage in work efforts that go beyond obligations specified in the labor contract (Becker, 1993). A particularly important form of organizational solidarity is investment in firm-specific human capital by the employee. For example, an employee’s willingness to learn a computer program that

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is used solely within his or her organization can greatly benefit the company but has no immediate return for the employee. Most of the literature on organizational solidarity has focused on effects of individual characteristics, such as personality traits, of solidary behavior (Podsakoff et al., 2000; for a recent overview of research on personality and solidarity, cf. Van der Zee and Perugini, this volume). Other authors have argued, however, that social context variables, such as embeddedness in the social environment, are important predictors (Hodson, 1997; Koster, Sanders, and Van Emmerik, 2003; Raub and Weesie, 1990, 2000; Van Emmerik, Lambooij, and Sanders, 2002; Van Emmerik and Sanders, 2004). In general, social context variables can be described in terms of three forms of embeddedness of employees within organizations: embeddedness in an institutional context, network embeddedness, and temporal embeddedness (Raub and Weesie, 1990, 2000). Institutional embeddedness refers to the formal and informal rules of an organization, such as career rules, performance systems, and the informal organizational rules. Individuals’ network embeddedness refers to the network of social relations between employees, for example, friendships or status hierarchies. Temporal embeddedness, finally, is the duration and expected future duration of employment relationships (Axelrod, 1984; Raub and Weesie, 2000). Clearly, the three forms of embeddedness are related to each other. For instance, tenure or career systems are part of the institutional context, but also influence the temporal embeddedness of employees’ behaviors. Also, the social networks of employees within an organization may influence temporal embeddedness by shaping employees’ intentions to stay or leave (and vice versa). The focus of our study is on how embeddedness affects the solidary behavior of employees with regard to their organization. We look at a range of available empirical studies and examine to what extent their results are consistent with the framing perspective on solidarity proposed in this book (cf. Lindenberg, 1998 and this volume; Lindenberg et al., this volume). Furthermore, we aim to determine whether relational framing provides better explanations or generates new fruitful research problems in comparison with competing approaches to organizational embeddedness. We pay particular attention to agency theory (Alchian and Demsetz, 1972; Petersen, 1993) as a prominent competing approach that excludes the cognitive and emotional mechanisms of framing. Below, we give a brief outline of the core assumptions of both theories. The effects of institutional embeddedness on solidary behavior within an organization will then be discussed and attention will be paid to the relationships between employees’ solidary behavior and network and temporal embeddedness. In the last section, we will summarize and present some ideas for future research.

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Agency Theory and Framing Theory In its most orthodox form, agency theory may be characterized by three core assumptions derived from neoclassical economics (cf. Petersen, 1993). First, the theory views members of organizations as rational agents who anticipate and calculate even complicated consequences of their actions. Second, agency theory assumes that actors have exclusively egoistic motives and, third, it assumes that they are solely interested in tangible material rewards such as maximization of payment and minimization of the effort that is needed to attain rewards. Clearly, within this perspective, it is difficult to address solidary behavior and social relationships at the workplace. Accordingly, contributions to agency theory include the assumption that actors may also strive for social incentives, such as prestige or status at the workplace (Flache 2002; Kandel and Lazear, 1992; Petersen, 1992; Spagnolo, 1999). Even within this recent line of work, however, authors retain the assumptions of egoistic preferences and largely rationally calculated action. By contrast, framing theory assumes that individuals interpret and evaluate behavior differently depending on how they view the relationships to which this behavior pertains (Lindenberg, this volume; Mühlau, 2000; Wittek, Van Duijn, and Snijders, 2003). It is argued that cognitive selection processes “define” or “frame” the decision-making situations that occur within relationships. Unlike agency theory, framing theory implies that people may not under all circumstances rationally pursue personal material and social well-being. Instead, it is argued that the subjective framing of the situation may trigger mutual expectations and obligations that temper or even overrule narrow self-interest (Lindenberg, 1998 and this volume; Lindenberg et al., this volume). Applications of framing theory to organizations mainly distinguish two frames: a gain frame and a normative frame (Lindenberg, 1998; Mühlau, 2000; Wittek et al., 2003). As a core motivation, the gain frame corresponds to rational egoism, the behavioral assumption of agency theory. Lindenberg (this volume) argues that there is also a socalled hedonic frame in which people are mainly motivated by shortterm primary desires, such as getting food or having fun. We feel, however, that purely hedonic motives rarely play a prominent role within work organizations. Framing theory argues that gain is virtually always the dominant motive in work organizations (e.g., Mühlau, 2000). However, gain maximization may be more or less restrained by normative concerns. In terms of framing theory, actors’ behavior may be seen as weakly solidary when a normative frame in the background is sufficiently strong to temper egoistic motives. In a “pure” normative frame, individuals’ primary goal is to act appropriately. For example, in a friendship relation, individuals do not focus on gains from exchange but on obligations appropriate to


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friendship such as providing help in times of need. By contrast, in weak solidarity relations, pursuit of gain is considered legitimate by both parties, but at the same time actors are willing to comply with norms of fairness, reciprocity, or equity. Accordingly, to explain solidarity in work organizations from a framing theoretical perspective, we assume that the relative strength of the gain and normative frames of an employee are shaped by the situational context: more precisely, by the institutional, network, and temporal embeddedness of the employee.

Institutional Embeddedness Relationships in organizations are institutionally embedded. That is, they are influenced by institutions, which provide the formal and informal rules that govern the interactions between employers and employees (North, 1990), also called governance structures.

Formal Governance Structures The formal content of an organization’s governance structures is evident in the organization’s human resource policies. Elements of formal governance structures are remuneration policies and monitoring and control systems. An example of modern formal governance is the project career, a career system used widely by Dutch banks (see, for instance, Sanders, Van Emmerik, and Raub, 2002). In a project career, employees have a permanent contract but they are placed in successive short-term projects in order to increase their flexibility and experience and thus their value for the employer. Characteristics of governance structures in most modern organizations as compared to traditional firms are lower job security, a larger contingent workforce, the use of more performance-related pay and promotion systems, and the replacement of predictable career paths with more uncertain and competitive promotion systems. These characteristics not only increase incentives for competition between employees but also make promotion and pay rises more uncertain and less transparent. It has been shown that differentiated and unpredictable reward systems may negatively affect employees’ sense of fairness with respect to the employers’ behavior (Van Emmerik, Hermkens, and Sanders, 1998). Denison and Mishra (1995) and Tyler (2001) found that a certain degree of predictability of resources and rewards is essential for meaning and satisfaction in work and thus for the establishment of trust between workers and management (Fox, 1974; Granovetter, 1985). The perception that the employer is fair, in turn, has a strong and robust

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effect on employees’ solidary behavior with regard to the firm (Sanders, Schyns, Koster, and Rotteveel, 2003). Mühlau (2000, chap. 15) discusses and compares competing hypotheses that agency theory and framing theory generate for this relationship. From an agency perspective, performance-related payment should impose stronger incentives to perform well and outcompete colleagues. Accordingly, it should increase employees’ willingness to invest effort in the firm at the expense of cooperation with peers. In accordance with this view, one would expect that in firms with more career differentiation there is also more employee solidarity toward the employer, but less solidary behavior between employees. Mühlau contrasts this reasoning with framing theory. From that point of view, most workers perceive high career differentiation as a violation of the implicit solidarity expectation that every employee should get a fair share. In addition, the more differentiated career systems are, the more often employees might perceive promotion decisions as unfair, which may weaken their solidarity and strengthen their gain frame in the relationship with the employer. As a consequence, in firms with higher career differentiation, disappointed employees may tend to support each other against employer practices that are seen as unfair. Mühlau (2000) shows that data from Japanese firms clearly support the expectation derived from relational framing and refute the predictions of agency theory. His analysis focused on organizational commitment, a concept that is closely related to intended solidary behavior toward the organization. Mühlau found that career differentiation has a clear negative effect on organizational commitment, but not on the perceived quality of co-worker relationships, despite increased pressure on employees to compete. We may tentatively conclude from this evidence that pay and promotion systems characterized by more uncertainty and less predictability (and following from this an increased focus on competition) put employees in a gain frame vis-à-vis the employer: individual goals and interests are in the foreground, and the goals and interests of the team and the organization are in the background. It can be expected that the more employers and managers within organizations make use of performance-related pay and promotions systems, the less solidary behavior employees will exhibit toward the organization. This expectation is consistent with research that showed negative effects of monetary rewards on “intrinsic motivation” (Frey, 1997).

Informal Governance Structures Informal governance structures complement the formal rules of an organization. For instance, employers often make use of social networks and informal social control to develop and maintain cooperative


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relations with and between their employees (Flap, Bulder, and Völker, 1998). Informal governance structures may, in turn, affect both the network and the temporal embeddedness of employees. Van Emmerik et al. (2002) argued that important elements of the informal governance structure are the prestige, pride, and self-esteem that employees can derive from working for a specific organization or at a specific position within an organization. In their work, prestige was defined in terms of the perceptions of individuals’ standing in the hierarchy of a group based on criteria such as honor or deference. In this perspective, employees with high prestige judgments perceive themselves as important, meaningful, and worthwhile within their organization. To maintain positive self-esteem, employees have a strong incentive to exert effort, which, in turn, may increase job performance (Tyler, 2001). As Pfeffer (1982) asserts, acknowledgment of one’s prestige by other organization members is one of the most important items of exchange within organizations. For example, perceived high prestige derived from working in a specific context may motivate employees to invest more effort. Such trade-offs of prestige, for example, helping behavior, have been documented in classic organization research (Blau, 1955) and are consistent with both framing theory and (modern) agency theory. In terms of agency theory, rational actors may maximize their utility through this exchange if the costs of extra investments in work effort are more than compensated by the social rewards received from the employer or from colleagues. As Coleman (1990) puts it, “an expression of encouragement or gratitude for an others action may . . . provide a great reward for the other” (p. 277). From the perspective of framing theory (Lindenberg, this volume), it could be argued that employees’ normative background frame in their relationship with the employer may be strengthened if the organization puts them in positions that give them prestige and pride. Van Emmerik and Sanders (2004) and Van Emmerik and her coauthors (2002) found support for this idea. They found a positive relationship between the team-linked status (perceived prestige) of employees in different faculties within a university and the solidary behavior of employees. A finding by Koster and his collaborators (2003) may also be interpreted as supporting this prestige effect. The authors found a positive relationship between the research orientedness of a department and the solidary behavior of Ph.D. students. Research orientedness is perceived in the Dutch university system as an indication of high status of a department. It should be noted, however, that the described evidence could also be explained from a social identity perspective (Hogg and Abrams, 1988; Tajfel, 1982; Tajfel and Turner, 1986), with the argument that employees are willing to make extra efforts that affirm their identity as members of a group with a high status.

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Social Network Embeddedness Network embeddedness pertains to the effects on employee behavior of the amount and quality of social relations (e.g., friendships or informal communication) between employees, as well as the structural characteristics of the networks these relations constitute (Granovetter, 1985). Networks provide information and serve as a means for the direct and indirect sanctioning of nonsolidary actions. In addition, social relations that have a defined duration and are part of a larger network of relations make it possible to gather information (Granovetter, 1985; Hechter, 1987). The longer social relationships between employees last, the more information will be gathered about the other person and the more likely it is that violations of solidarity norms may be detected and sanctioned by peers. The findings of previous research from the agency theoretic perspective emphasize this control aspect of social relations (Buskens, 1999; Raub and Weesie, 2000). Unsolidary behavior toward colleagues may be tempered when actors fear peer monitoring and future reprisals from colleagues in their network. Moreover, a longer duration of relationships may also increase actors’ dependence on peer rewards, which in turn gives additional possibilities to sanction opportunistic behavior of members of the social network. The agency approach implies that enduring cohesive social networks within organizations may increase solidary behavior between employees (cf. Flache, 1996, 2002; Sanders, 2004). Numerous researchers have found empirical support for this hypothesis (Barker, 1993; Roethlisberger and Dickson, 1939; Seashore, 1954). For instance, a study among bus drivers in a large city in the Netherlands showed that, in strongly cohesive working groups, members see leaving their colleagues alone as highly undesirable and will, because of this, avoid voluntary absenteeism (Van Yperen, Hagedoorn, and Geurts, 1994). This suggests that absenteeism that is seen as a form of unsolidary behavior toward both peers and the employer (Sanders, 2004; Sanders, Van Emmerik and Raub, 2002, in press; Van Dierendonck, Le Blanc, and Van Breukelen, 2002) is lower when employees within a team are informally related to each other. In addition, there is increasing evidence that group norms at work may play an important and independent role in fostering or hindering spells of absence. For example, Sanders and Hoekstra (1998; Sanders, 2004) show that a more intolerant group norm decreased the absenteeism of the group. While an agency theoretic perspective seems to provide a straightforward explanation of the positive effects of network cohesion, recent research suggests that this explanation may also suffer from internal inconsistency. Flache and Macy (1996; Flache, 1996, 2002) argued that it may be fully in line with the notion of rational gain maximization


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that cohesive networks may under certain conditions fail to foster or even undermine employees’ solidarity with regard to the production goals of their work group. In a nutshell, the theoretical argument is that employees face a conflict between two motives, where one is to maintain privately beneficial social relations even with deviants, and the other is enforcement of a group norm to contribute to collective efforts. This conflict ensues because peer enforcement may put social relations between employees under pressure. Accordingly, Flache (1996, 2002) showed that under certain conditions it may be the utility-maximizing course of action for rational employees to neither contribute to group efforts nor enforce solidary behavior by colleagues, but to maintain instead mutually beneficial social ties even with colleagues who act unsolidarily toward the organization. Flache (2003) tested this prediction in a vignette study and found that employees of a Dutch university indicated—as expected—considerably less willingness to pull their weight in a group effort when the social relations in the group were described as more pleasant and friendly. In a similar vein, Sanders and Hoekstra (1998; Sanders, 2004; Sanders and Nauta, 2004) showed that in cohesive teams informal norms concerning illegal absenteeism may actually foster short-term absenteeism. The positive and the negative effects of informal relations on solidarity that follow from agency theory are consistent with framing theory. The added value of the framing approach, however, may be to highlight conditions under which network embeddedness may foster solidarity rather than undermine it. Fruitful directions for future empirical research may arise from this. For example, Van der Vegt and Flache (this volume) suggest that outcome interdependence in work teams may shift employees’ attention toward the normative obligation to contribute a fair share to common production. Outcome interdependence refers to the extent to which employees are made aware of their common interests, for example, as a result of group payment or group feedback. Framing theory implies that higher outcome interdependence may increase the positive effects of cohesive networks on solidary behavior at the workplace. Conversely, low outcome interdependence may distract actors’ attention from collective goals and strengthen their gain motive of obtaining social rewards from colleagues. In other words, framing theory implies that lower outcome interdependence may weaken or even reverse the effect of cohesive networks on solidary behavior.

The Temporal Context Temporal embeddedness captures both the history and the (expected) future of relationships. To the extent that a relationship has a longer history, actors have had more opportunities to gain information

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about the reliability of the other and to learn from previous behavior of the other. In addition, relationship-specific investments are an important result of a common history (Raub and Weesie, 1990, 2000). Relationship-specific investments can be described as investments that make the relationship more valuable for both partners, such as investments in firm-specific skills or in trust building with colleagues. These investments are lost if an employee decides to accept an offer from another organization. An agency theoretic perspective clearly implies that both a longer history and a longer expected future of a relationship foster solidarity. Mutual relationship-specific investments reduce temptation for opportunistic behavior and stabilize the relationship (Williamson, 1975, 1996). Furthermore, a common future allows one to promise the partner future rewards or to threaten the partner with negative sanctions for undesired behavior. Consistent effects have indeed been found in research concerning negotiations within organizations. The more individual employees (Pruitt and Carnevale, 1993) or departments within an organization (Nauta and Sanders, 2000, 2001) are positively interdependent in that they have a common future, the more solidary behavior employees exhibit in terms of problem-solving behavior. The above-mentioned research of Koster (2005) and his collaborators (2003), Sanders and Van Emmerik (2004) and Van Emmerik and Sanders (2004) confirms agency theoretic predictions about the effects of temporal embeddedness on nontenured employees, such as Ph.D. students, within a university. Koster et al. (2003) hypothesized and found a curvilinear effect of organizational tenure on solidarity in a sample of Ph.D. students. That is, at the beginning and at the end of the employment relationship, Ph.D. students showed less solidary behavior, measured as OCB, than in the years in between. The results confirm the notion that solidarity needs a shadow of the past: the longer employees are related to each other, the more solidary behavior can arise. The decline of OCB at the end of the employment relationship can be interpreted as an effect of a lighter shadow of the future. Also in the research of Van Emmerik and Sanders (2004), a positive relationship between the expected length of stay within the organization and OCB was found. The longer employees expected to stay within the organization, the more OCB they reported. The positive effects of temporal embeddedness found in previous studies are consistent with agency theory’s assumption that employees’ solidary behavior is motivated solely by enlightened self-interest. The results are also in line with framing theory, when the assumption is made that employees frame their relationship with the organization mainly in terms of gain, but normative background motives are at least strong enough to preclude myopic opportunism in situations in which the relationship is sufficiently temporarily embedded. Mühlau (2000),


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however, showed that, unlike agency theory, framing theory may also be capable of explaining negative effects of temporary embeddedness on organizational commitment. Mühlau found that, in a sample of Japanese industrial workers, employees indicated at the beginning of an employment relationship a relatively high level of organizational commitment, but commitment declined with the duration of the employment relationship. The data suggest a negative effect of the “shadow of the past” on intended solidary behavior toward the organization. Mühlau explains this result with the argument that employees initially perceive mainly the positive signals sent by seemingly attractive official employment practices of the firm, which triggers a strong normative frame tempering gain motivations. As time goes by, however, employees tend to perceive more and more situations in which they feel that the employer acts unfairly toward them or their colleagues. As a consequence, employees’ normative frame may gradually weaken and they may frame their relationship with the employer increasingly in terms of gain, which eventually results in lower levels of intended solidary behavior. Both agency theory and relational framing emphasize potential dangers of decreasing temporal embeddedness in modern work organizations that may point to fruitful avenues to explore in future research, especially with regard to the effects of declining temporal embeddedness on trust (e.g., Coleman, 1990; Luhmann, 1979; Mayer, Davis, and Schoorman, 1995). In order to satisfy the demands of a rapidly changing environment and increasingly competitive markets, growing numbers of employers are turning to flexible, short-lived employment relations (Pfeffer, 1982). External flexibility (e.g., employees have temporary jobs and work only when necessary) especially reduces the long-term perspective in the employer-employee relationship, which in turn may put solidarity with the organization under pressure. In addition, as a result of the absence of a long-term perspective, the positive effects of social networks on workplace solidarity may decline. In a short-term labor relationship, positive and negative sanctioning among employees may come under pressure, because employees may have little interest in investing in the future quality of peer relationships. As a consequence, the chances of opportunistic behavior occurring may increase, and the chances of solidary behavior occurring may decrease, even when employees are embedded in informal peer networks.

Conclusions and Future Research In this chapter, we discussed solidary behavior within modern organizations and its relationships with institutional, network, and temporal embeddedness. It was argued that although employees enjoy autonomy within modern organizations, the disadvantage of this

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autonomy is that employers expect team members to work together, participate voluntarily, cooperate willingly, and submit to the mutual informal control needed to keep the organization running (Appelbaum and Batt, 1994; Handy, 1995; Wickens, 1995). This can be summarized as the employers’ “demand” for solidary behavior. Employee solidarity with the organization is both needed and precarious. This makes it particularly important to have appropriate theoretical tools to investigate the conditions that shape solidarity at the workplace. Accordingly, our main theoretical interest in this chapter was to determine to what extent effects of the three forms of embeddedness on employee solidarity can be explained from a framing perspective (Lindenberg 1998, this volume) and whether this approach adds new insights into organizational solidarity and improves upon the prominent competing approach of agency theory (Alchian and Demsetz, 1972; Petersen, 1993), which explicitly neglects framing effects. In sum, we tentatively conclude that a large body of the available empirical evidence on effects of embeddedness is consistent with both approaches. Employees often tend to show more solidarity with the organization when the governance structures reward solidary behavior, when employees are embedded in more and stronger informal relationships with colleagues, and when they expect a longer future and have had a longer past in the organization. This is in line with both theories. There are also a number of notable effects of embeddedness that seem to contradict the view of agency theory but can be explained by framing. Framing theory suggests explanations for findings that show that the differentiation of career systems, cohesive networks within work groups, or the duration of the employment relationship sometimes have negative rather than positive effects on employees’ solidarity. While this can tentatively be regarded as support for a framing perspective on employment relations, we wish to emphasize that a more systematic theory comparison than ours would be required to arrive at a conclusive assessment of the relative strengths and weaknesses of framing and agency theories. In particular, we did not systematically search for empirical results that contradict a framing interpretation, nor did we take the relative parsimony of the theories into consideration. An important theme in future research may be that the effects of institutional, network, and temporal embeddedness are interrelated. For example, when relationships between employees have more time to develop, there will be more interpersonal contact and more possibilities to build informal networks. This implies that employees’ network embeddedness can be influenced by their temporal embeddedness. Similarly, changing institutional embeddedness in terms of more shortterm, external flexible contracts leads to diminishing long-term perspectives. This may suggest that within modern organizations there is


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not enough time to build the close and informal relationships between employees and with the employer that are the seedbed of solidary behavior. Growing time pressure within dual-earner households also puts voluntary participation in informal activities under pressure, which further undermines solidary behavior. Empirical research designed explicitly to test these ideas is needed to describe more clearly how the three elements of social embeddedness are interrelated in their consequences for solidarity. We also believe that research into the effects of social embeddedness might identify manageable factors to improve solidarity within organizations. Employers can choose between governance structures that constitute the settings in which employees weigh alternatives and choose the duration and timing of their efforts for the organization. An important question for future research, therefore, is how employers can design formal and informal governance such that they strengthen normative motives and weaken employees’ gain frames in their relationships with the organization.

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CHAPTER 10

Sustaining the Motivation to Volunteer in Organizations Linda Bridges Karr and Lucas C.P.M. Meijs

One important variant of solidary benefit behavior is organized volunteerism1—freely chosen, sustained behavior that is of benefit to others, that requires some sacrifice of resources and that takes place within the context of an organization. It is well documented that organizational volunteers contribute significantly to the amount of work performed in modern society (see United Nations, 2001). According to a large-scale international study of volunteering in the 1990s (Salamon and Sokolowski, 2001), volunteer work in nonprofit organizations amounted to 2.5% of total employment across 24 countries. The share in some countries was much higher.2 While it is impossible to say what percentage of volunteer work takes place within and what percentage takes place outside of organizational boundaries, it is safe to say that a substantial share of volunteer work happens in and through organizations. Although most of what we know about volunteers and volunteerism has been learned through observations of relatively large organizations (see Smith, 1997), surprisingly little is yet known about one crucial aspect of volunteerism: the sustainability of volunteer motivation (see Cnaan and GoldbergGlen, 1993). If they are not paid, what makes volunteers sustain their work? What are the processes of motivation and what are some of the organizational features that can support or reduce the sustainability of work effort from volunteers? 1

In the interest of readability, the term “volunteerism” will be understood in this chapter to mean “organized volunteerism.” 2 For example, volunteer work was equivalent to 8% of all full-time, nonagricultural employment in Sweden, 7.5% in the Netherlands, and 5.2% in France. In most of the eleven Western European countries considered in the study, volunteers provided the equivalent of 3% or more of total employment. In the United States, the figure was 4.6%, and in Australia 3.2%. For the most part, countries in other geographic regions (Central Europe, Latin America, and Japan) had much lower percentages. 157

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Existing literature on the motivations of volunteers is equivocal about the sustainability of volunteer motivation; most organizational theories begin with the simple idea that the key to continued volunteer involvement lies in matching individuals (who are variously motivated) with organizations that can make it possible for volunteers to meet their goals (Billis, 1993; Clary and Snyder, 1991; Clary et al., 1998; Cnaan and Cascio, 1999; Tschirhart, Mesch, Miller, and Lee, 2001). Tailoring the organizational reward system to fit the motivations of volunteers is one strategy for accomplishing this goal (see Cuskelly, 1995; Dailey, 1986; Ellis, 1986; Pearce, 1993). At first glance, these suggestions sound plausible. It is by no means obvious, however, what the motivations of volunteers are, and it is even less obvious whether (and how) they may be affected by features of the organization. In this chapter, we argue that the sustainability of volunteer motivation cannot be understood without considering the interaction of organizational characteristics with processes of individual motivation. Because they affect framing (cf. Lindenberg, this volume), characteristics of organizations affect the motivational processes of volunteers; thus, these processes can subsequently reinforce or counteract features of the organization. The chapter begins by considering the motivation to volunteer and how it has been addressed in current research. The second section addresses volunteering from within an organizational context, focusing particularly on characteristics of an organization’s mission and the manner in which an organization seeks to coordinate the efforts of its volunteers. In particular, we consider the possible effects of these characteristics on the motivation of volunteers. We conclude by considering implications for volunteer organizations and outlining avenues for future research. Throughout the chapter, we illustrate our points with a qualitative comparison of processes in two volunteer organizations.3

Theories of the Sustainability of Volunteer Motivation That volunteerism does not flow from altruism alone is well understood (Bierhoff, 2002; Cnaan and Goldberg-Glen, 1993; Smith, 1981; Tschirhart et al., 2001; Van de Vliert, Huang, and Levine, 2004; Watts, 2002). Many people choose to volunteer their efforts for the main purpose of reaping some benefit for themselves. Tocqueville 3

Specifically, we provide examples of the experiences of volunteers in Scouting Nederland and several councils of Girl Scouts of the United States of America. The prominence of these two organizations in this work is due to (1) the authors’ long-term involvement with the organizations and (2) the opportunity they provide to give insight into unique organizational differences while holding broader organizational ideologies and goals (for the most part) constant.

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(1862/1945) identified the principle of “self-interest rightly understood” (l’intérêt bien entendu) as an important means of guarding against the threats of individualism in democratic societies. According to this principle, individuals must come to understand that it is often in their own best interest to act in the interest of others. Without this understanding, argues Tocqueville, there can be little hope of achieving cooperation under conditions of equality. As plausible as this idea of enlightened self-interest may sound, it does not explain why acting in the interest of others is ultimately in our own best interest, nor does it address the possibility that people may not know what is in their best interest. What is “our own best interest” when we are not paid for our efforts, and what keeps us going? A number of theories have attempted to shed some light on these questions. The functional approach to volunteer motivation (Clary and Snyder, 1991; Clary et al., 1998) argues that volunteerism may serve any of an array of functions for a volunteer. This model identifies different categories of functional volunteer motivations. Career motivations are directed toward improving a volunteer’s opportunities in the paid labor market. Value motivations proceed from the volunteer’s personal moral and ethical makeup. Social motivations respond to a volunteer’s need to behave in ways that are expected or desired by significant others, peer groups, or friends. Protective motivations are directed toward preventing or minimizing unpleasant feelings or circumstances. Volunteers motivated by understanding seek to increase their awareness of particular questions or issues. Enhancement motivations seek to increase the value of a volunteer’s life experiences. Clary and Snyder (1991) argue further that satisfaction with and the continuation of volunteerism may be predicted by the extent to which individuals realize appropriate “functional rewards” by participating in volunteer work. This functional approach tells us little, however, about what sustains the motivation of volunteers. Omoto and Snyder (1995) investigated this question directly by studying volunteers in organizations that serve people who are infected with HIV. They found that value motivations played no role and that three self-serving types of motivations were very important to the sustainability of volunteering: understanding, personal development, and the enhancement of esteem. These findings were subsequently contradicted by Penner and Finkelstein (1998) in a study on the same kind of volunteers. Contrary to Omoto and Snyder, they found that value motivations play a very important role in the sustainability of volunteer effort. Although the issue remains unresolved, these studies have made clear that volunteerism is likely to be sustained by a variety of motivations rather than by a single category. Bierhoff’s personal project approach (Bierhoff, Klein, and Kramp, 1991; Bierhoff and Schülken, 2001; see also Piliavin and Callero, 1991) considers the issue from a different but related angle. The personal

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project approach draws dynamic links between values, attitudes, and identities. In other words, individuals who engage in volunteer work likely have a combination of egoistic and altruistic motives for doing so. They are likely to have some values that stress concern for others, and these values have a positive influence on their attitudes toward voluntary behavior. Engaging in voluntary behavior leads those who do so to perceive themselves as people who engage in altruistic behavior and who are altruistically motivated. This emerging prosocial identity may culminate in a personal project when and if the project is clearly tied to certain values (for example, the value of abhorring injustice). In this sense, the variety of motivations that drive volunteers may be reduced over time. As with the functional approach, however, the evidence concerning the personal project approach is mixed. Moreover, this approach provides no clear answer to the question of whether egoistic or altruistic motivations play the more important part of sustainability (see Bierhoff, 2002, p. 316). None of these theories concerning the sustainability of motivation explicitly incorporates the influence of the organization. Even when this influence is explicitly acknowledged (see Grube and Piliavin, 2000; Omoto and Snyder, 1995), sustainability is seen as dependent on the “match” between a volunteer’s motivations and the organization’s system of rewards. This literature conceptualizes neither motivation nor the organizational factors that are assumed to affect motivation in such a way that their interdependence becomes tractable. For example, the functional approach allows for empirical assessment of the relative strengths of its six categories of motivation in particular volunteer contexts, yet it provides no theoretical expectations for the conditions under which one category may carry more weight than another, or how each may enhance or detract from the others. Furthermore, it does not consider that an organization may play a role in shaping the motivations of its existing volunteers, even though such influences are commonly documented in the literature (see Cuskelly, 1995; Nathanson and Eggleton, 1993; Newton, 1995; Pearce, 1993). Consider the responses of two volunteers, one a Dutch Scouting leader and the other a Girl Scout leader in the United States (both of whom had been volunteers for more than 10 years), when asked what they believed the missions of their respective organizations to be.4 According to the Dutch Scouting leader, the mission of Scouting Nederland was as follows: “to help kids become aware of their 4

The volunteers were asked this question in the context of a larger survey of attitudes, motivations, and experiences in their volunteer work. The responses of most volunteers corresponded very closely to the formal mission statements of the organizations. The two responses presented here were selected for their illustrative value.


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surroundings through membership in a group.” The American Girl Scout leader summed up her perception of the primary mission of her organization as follows: “Bring in the money by selling cookies.” The contrast between these two responses suggests that processes beyond the straightforward matching of goals are at work in sustaining the motivation to volunteer with an organization for an extended period of time. Both structural and practical aspects of the organization also come into play. Investigating the sustainability of volunteer motivation requires a theory of motivation that draws a fundamental link between the motivations of volunteers and the organization’s approach to managing volunteers. The prevailing distinction between altruistic and egoistic motivations may not be very useful in this regard. Conversely, a theory of volunteer organizations is needed that draws a fundamental link between organizational processes and volunteer motivation. The following section provides a brief description of such theories: a theory of intrinsic motivation (based on framing theory) and a theory of volunteer management strategies.

Intrinsic Motivation Because volunteers in organizations are not paid, it seems reasonable to assume that intrinsic motivation may play an important role in sustaining their motivation to work for the organization. The best-known conception of intrinsic motivation, which has considerable empirical support, is that of Deci and Ryan (1985). Their concept of intrinsic (as compared to extrinsic) motivations differs in important aspects from the distinction between altruistic and egoistic motivation. According to this conception, activities are intrinsically motivated if they are multifunctional in the sense that they provide a sense of autonomy, relatedness, and competence. External rewards (such as social approval) are not necessarily detrimental to intrinsic motivation, therefore, as long as they feed one or more of these three general goals. Deci and Ryan’s conception has been extended recently within the context of framing theory (see Lindenberg, 2001 and this volume). Beginning from the three master frames in framing theory, Lindenberg distinguished “enjoyment-based” intrinsic motivation from “obligation-based” intrinsic motivation. The former (based on multifunctionality and a hedonic frame) roughly fits the Deci and Ryan conception, and the latter reflects behavior that is guided by norms (based on a normative frame). Both are contrasted with gain-oriented behavior (i.e., behavior that is motivated by a gain frame). This distinction also makes clear that the meaning of “extrinsic” does not depend on whether there are external rewards but on whether individuals are oriented toward increasing their resources. In addition, framing theory explicitly addresses the importance of multiple motivations

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by distinguishing between foreground and background motivations. For example, it is possible for a person to be intrinsically motivated in such a way that normative concerns (obligation-based intrinsic motivation) are in the foreground, while resource concerns (such as gaining career experience or status) are in the background. This is possible, under the condition that the extrinsic motives that are in the background do not conflict with the normatively oriented actions of the individual. Should these motivations be compatible, the extrinsic rewards could even strengthen obligation-based intrinsic motivation. Because the three types of motivation (enjoyment-based and obligation-based intrinsic motivation and extrinsic motivation) are defined in terms of the types of rewards they involve, they are more readily linked to characteristics of organizations than are the six functional motivations of Clary and Snyder (1991) or the altruistic identity in the theories of Bierhoff (2002) and Piliavin and Callero (1991). Approaching the question of organizational influences on the sustainability of volunteer motivation in this way involves the more straightforward task of identifying how specific organizational features interact with the three kinds of motivation. A theory of volunteer management styles that was recently developed by Meijs and Hoogstad (2001) and further elaborated by Meijs and Karr (2004) is useful in this regard.

Volunteer Management Styles Recent years have seen the appearance of numerous studies whose goal is to increase knowledge about the organizational practices of nonprofit (and specifically volunteer) organizations (see Meijs, 1996). The quest, however, has proved daunting, in large part because the great variety among these organizations makes comparison difficult, and because traditional models of management and other organizational practices often do not fit the nonprofit/volunteer context. One result is the proliferation in the literature of categorization schemes, by which various types of organizations can be distinguished along important dimensions. Meijs and Hoogstad (2001) compared a number of these typologies in an attempt to move beyond simple categorizations— which invariably result in abstract hybrids and continua—toward a model that suggests effects of specific organizational or management practices in differing organizational environments. They build a descriptive model of volunteer management style from the work of Meijs and Westerlaken (1994), who, in turn, were inspired by Handy’s (1988) well-known work on nonprofit organizations. More specifically, the model is based on a contrast that has emerged in the literature concerning volunteer management in European countries (most specifically in the Netherlands) with that in the United States.


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The major distinction that Meijs and Hoogstad (2001; see also Meijs and Karr, 2004) make between two styles of volunteer management styles can be eloquently illustrated by comparing the mission statements of Scouting Nederland and Girl Scouts of America. The mission of Scouting Nederland is “to offer pleasant, leisure-time experiences to girls and boys, based on the vision of Lord Baden-Powell, thereby contributing to character development” (Scouting Nederland, 1992; translation by authors). The mission of Girl Scouts of America is “to inspire girls with the highest ideals of character, conduct, patriotism, and service that they may become happy and resourceful citizens” (GSUSA, 2003). The more European type (membership management) relies on existing volunteers to meet both current needs and new challenges in the organization. The more American type (program management) identifies and pursues specific goals by recruiting volunteers for specific tasks involved in achieving those goals. The key difference is that membership management focuses on the volunteers themselves, while program management focuses on specific operational tasks.5 The membership and program approaches to volunteer management represent opposing ends of a continuum. In practice, while organizations are likely to use some combination of these approaches, they do emphasize one or the other. Membership management could be expected to cultivate broad, multifaceted volunteer involvement, likely to lead to greater overall satisfaction with the volunteer experience. By focusing first on the volunteers (who are treated as members) and their goals, the membership-managed organization shapes itself to the needs and desires of its membership—including its volunteers. Through careful attention to those who will be admitted to membership, it guards against the introduction of members whose goals may be contrary to those of the existing membership. Because it is tailor-made to the specifications of the membership, it would be difficult for a member to find such a good fit with any other organization. Because the costs of both entry and exit are high, the membership-managed organization is likely to cultivate considerable loyalty among its individual members. Membership management, however, may not (always) provide a stable basis for longterm survival. Although individual volunteers may indeed remain loyal to the organization for long periods of time, the organization itself risks stagnation, lack of growth, and eventual extinction. Program management, on the other hand, is designed with an eye toward resilience and flexibility. The general focus on carefully specified tasks guards against any one volunteer becoming indispensable. 5

This distinction is similar to that between “classic” and “new” styles of volunteering, as discussed by Hustinx and Lammertyn (2003).

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The limited scope of involvement expected of any volunteer facilitates both the entry and exit of volunteers, who may affiliate with the organization only for the purpose of performing one specific, time-limited task. Because the tasks to be accomplished take priority over the aims of the volunteers performing them, the program-managed organization is capable of maintaining smooth, consistent operations over extended periods of time. Because each task is, for the most part, a self-contained unit, change in response to environmental shifts involves only the reworking of single components rather than an overall shift in ideology or target population. Program management, however, may not cultivate—and may even discourage—loyalty on the part of volunteers. Members who join an organization in order to participate in programs of limited duration or those focused on specific activities are less likely to identify themselves as members of the organization than are those whose involvement is broader (see Karr, 2001). Although capable of continuity over time, the program-managed organization can be expected to depend on the availability of fresh supplies of volunteers, thus risking high turnover, impersonality, and co-optation.

Motivation and Volunteer Management Because volunteer work is not paid and because it is likely to be balanced with other life obligations, enjoyment-based intrinsic motivators are likely to be the most important factor in the sustainability of volunteer work commitment. Similar to paid work, however, ongoing volunteer work in an organizational context (as compared to episodic and informal sorts of volunteering) involves some necessary and possibly routine tasks that need to be done, whether or not anyone enjoys doing them. Obligation-based intrinsic motivation, therefore, must also be highly salient in order to sustain the motivation of volunteers to work for the organization. A salient orientation toward increasing individual resources (i.e., a gain frame) is not consistent with the concept of volunteer work, for either the volunteer or the organization (Handy et al., 2000; Meijs et al., 2003). This means that volunteer work is not likely to be sustainable for people whose most salient goal involves individual gain. As mentioned before, this does not mean that resource-improving motivations (e.g., “gaining useful experience” or “enhancing success in my chosen profession”) are unlikely to play a role. They may even strengthen intrinsic motivation, as long as they do not conflict with tasks that are dictated by intrinsic motivation. Membership and program management styles speak to different arrays of goals and motivations, and they are thus likely to appeal to different kinds of intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Membership


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management depends upon the broad involvement of volunteers in many aspects of the organization’s functioning, and it encourages the development of strong in-group ties among volunteers. It thus strengthens both enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation toward the volunteer work and obligation-based intrinsic motivation toward co-members. Membership techniques are apparently powerful tools for building a feeling of community and the internal norms that go along with it. One negative aspect of this approach is that, although volunteer organizations need functional differentiation of tasks and taskdiscipline, they have limited means for implementing them. Any perception that the organization attaches greater importance to concrete task objectives than it does to the will and involvement of the volunteer members should have a particularly chilling effect on the sustainability of volunteer participation. By contrast, program management is designed for limited, taskdirected involvement with functionally defined interaction among volunteers. This is likely to enhance the long-term survival of the organization as well as its ability to adapt. On the individual level, however, program techniques are likely to have a dampening effect on the availability of multifunctional contacts and thus on enjoymentbased intrinsic motivation. Because the immediate interactions among volunteers are not embedded within feelings of similarity and conviviality, it is also unlikely that norms arising from the small-group context will be strong enough to sustain intrinsic motivation that is based on obligation. The sustainability of motivation is therefore particularly dependent on both extrinsic rewards and ideological support from the larger context for obligation-based intrinsic motivation. The limited ability of program-managed volunteer organizations to foster enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation also limits their ability to retain their volunteers. On the other hand, the limited ability of membershipmanaged volunteer organizations to implement and adapt programs complicates the general sustainability of the organization as a whole. The differences in volunteer management style also have effects in the day-to-day operations of the organizations, particularly with regard to the recruitment, training, and retention of volunteers. We will illustrate this in the following section with examples from our studies of Scouting Nederland and Girl Scouts of America.

An Example This section provides an anecdotal description of the application of membership- and program-management techniques to recruitment, training, and retention in two organizations that share similar historical, ideological, and practical foundations. Figure 10.1 presents a comparative

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Scouting (NL) Recruitment

Training

Retention

Girl Scouts (USA)

Informal

Formal

‘Grow your own’

Meet existing needs

Young adults, existing members

Parents of (prospective) Girl Scouts

Informal

Formal

Basics required but loosely enforced

Basics required and strongly enforced

Supplementary training offered as development or incentive

Supplementary training offered as development or incentive

Program progression Volunteering built in as component of program Strong local groups Membership

Job specification (and ‘career ladders’) Orientation to mission Networking with other volunteers Formal recognition Membership

Note: An earlier version of this table also appears in Karr, 2004.

FIGURE 10.1. Management practices in Scouting Nederland and in some member councils of GSUSA

overview of management practices that are actually in use in Scouting Nederland (hereafter, SN) and in some member councils of Girl Scouts of the United States of America (hereafter, GSUSA). While both could best be described as “volunteer-run, mutual service delivery” organizations (Handy, 1988), the Dutch organization reflects a membership approach to volunteer management, while the American organization reflects a program approach.

Recruitment Recruitment in SN is essentially a local activity, carried out by the volunteers themselves. Paid staff is involved only in such supporting activities as making brochures and leaflets.6 Volunteers in SN tend to 6

Recruitment within SN actually consists of three distinct and almost separate processes. The first recruitment process is for group leaders (who work directly with children). The recruitment of local board members constitutes a second recruitment process. The third recruitment process focuses on finding volunteers to serve on regional or national boards, or to provide support and training at these levels (see also Meijs, 1997; Meijs and Karr, 2004). In this chapter, we consider only the recruitment of group leaders.


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be “home-grown” and becoming a leader is built into the normal progression of SN activities. Beyond the age of 17 or 18, members are generally faced with the choice of either leaving scouting or becoming leaders for one of the younger age groups. Within this context, the primary recruitment tool in SN appears to be peer pressure. The recruitment of volunteers is a major area of accountability for both employed staff and higher-level volunteers in GSUSA councils. Although adult volunteers are sought in many different places through a wide variety of activities, the greatest proportion of volunteers are brought in through the major recruitment drives for girl members.7 A second form of adult recruitment drive is typically held in the spring, as existing leaders make it known whether they wish to continue as leaders the following year. The process of leader recruitment is similar in many ways to employee recruitment. Potential volunteers usually submit applications listing their education, skills, work experience, interests, and motivations for volunteering, along with character references. Staff members and designated volunteers review these applications, follow up on the references, and extend to appropriate candidates invitations to become leaders. Appointment to the position of troop leader is frequently formalized by a written job description and a letter of agreement signed by both the new leader and the designated council representative.

Training Training represents an effort on the part of an organization to establish and maintain certain behavioral standards. One characteristic of a membership-managed volunteer organization is a high degree of autonomy for local groups. Because of this autonomy, the processes by which volunteers are socialized to their positions at SN tend to be informal and highly group specific. Although formal training is officially quite important, a relatively small proportion of leaders actually complete the entire series of required training courses.8 Supplementary workshops are offered within SN, but participation in these workshops tends to be low.

7

Membership in a troop is highly dependent upon the availability of sufficient adult volunteers. Many new troops must be formed at the beginning of each school year. Leaders for these new troops are typically recruited from among the parents of girls who have expressed an interest in joining the Girl Scouts. Situations in which a girl’s chances of being placed in a troop are dependent on the willingness of her parent to become a troop leader provide some extrinsic incentive for parents to volunteer. 8 For a more detailed discussion of this issue, see Meijs and Karr (2004) and Meijs and Olde Hanter (2002).

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At GSUSA, careful attention is paid to writing job descriptions for volunteer positions. In addition, ongoing clarification is often provided through leaders’ meetings and articles in council newsletters. GSUSA also ensures that certain standards of consistency in the Girl Scout program are upheld. The Girl Scout name, logo, and all program materials are copyrighted, and their use is available only to authorized individuals. As members and volunteers, leaders have access to these materials, under the condition that they carry out their jobs within the guidelines set by council (and national) standards and policies, which include the completion of a specified series of training courses. By the time a new volunteer becomes a fully functioning leader (usually by the end of the first year), it is likely that she will have completed more than 35 hours of training. As in SN, GSUSA councils often offer supplementary workshops and special training courses, which also tend to have relatively low levels of participation.

Retention Encouraging the autonomy of local groups and building strong ties among their members are major retention tools within SN. In addition, the grow-your-own approach to volunteer recruitment that is practiced in SN presents a number of specific challenges, including: (1) keeping youth members so interested in the program that they eventually choose to become leaders and (2) ensuring the availability of sufficient group leadership, even as young adults move away from their childhood communities in order to pursue studies or begin careers. Practical measures that can be, and have been, adopted to address the first challenge include: (1) developing challenging programs for 12- to 16-yearolds and (2) avoiding a “been-there, done that” syndrome by ensuring that activities that would be challenging for adolescents are not incorporated into the programs for younger members. With regard to the second challenge, SN is at an advantage because the Netherlands is a small country and many students return home every weekend during their first few years of study or career. Volunteer retention activities within GSUSA (for example, see Woodford, 1997) often focus on two common elements: ideological commitment and the usefulness of being the leader, in terms of learning skills and official recognition. Recognizing that identification with the mission of Girl Scouts is a major reason that many volunteers stay involved (Arwood, Brandt, Karsky, and Sanner, 2002; Woodford, 1997), the formal mission statement has a prominent place in most Girl Scout materials (in the language of this book it is the ideological basis for obligation-based intrinsic motivation). It appears prominently on many


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Girl Scout publications at all levels; in some councils, it is printed on the back of the business cards of all staff members and administrative volunteers, and it is discussed, along with the basic goals of the Girl Scout program, as part of the initial orientation process. Planning guides and forms are often organized following the basic points of the mission and goals, such that leaders come into almost constant contact with them. Network building is an important side effect of volunteering in GSUSA, and it is instrumental in the retention of volunteers. In order to facilitate networking, Girl Scout leaders are regularly brought into contact with one another through training courses and leaders’ meetings, as well as through local and council-wide program activities. In many councils, experienced local volunteers serve as consultants or coaches for leaders, and other councils have developed mentoring programs that pair new leaders with experienced leaders for the first year. Another important source of extrinsic rewards is the highly developed system of formal volunteer recognition at the national, council, and local levels. Specific criteria for these awards are distributed to volunteers, who are encouraged to nominate their fellow volunteers for appropriate recognition. Volunteers in all positions are frequently recognized with patches, pins, or other tokens for such activities as completing training courses, participating in activities, or turning in required forms and reports on time. In addition, the national organization long ago designated a specific Girl Scout Leader’s Day, on which girl members and their parents, along with representatives of all levels of the organization, are encouraged to express their appreciation to the volunteer leaders.

Conclusion This chapter has addressed issues related to the sustainability of volunteerism in organizations. Existing theories of sustainability have generated puzzles because of contradictory findings, or they have been unable to accommodate the effect of organizational characteristics on the sustainability of volunteer motivation. In addition, apparently no theory has dealt with the interaction between volunteer motivation and organizational features. Our approach appears able to address important distinctions with regard to the sustainability of volunteer motivation. It sheds light on particular types of motivation that are likely to be crucial for sustained involvement, and particular features of organizations that should be the focus of particular attention. With regard to motivations, the distinction between enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation, obligation-based intrinsic motivation, and extrinsic motivation appears more useful than do either the six groups of motivations

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distinguished by Clary and Snyder (1991) or the distinction between altruistic and egoistic motivation. With regard to organizations, the distinction between membership and program-oriented voluntary organizations appears important, as that distinction can be clearly linked to key motivations of volunteers. Membership-managed volunteer organizations can use the presumably strongest motivators for sustained volunteer commitment (enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation) and link it to obligation-based intrinsic motivation in small groups. Although this enhances the sustainability of motivation at the individual level, it limits the sustainability of the organization as a whole, as it only allows limited adjustment of the program. In programmanaged volunteer organizations, although the program can be focused and well implemented throughout the organization, extrinsic motivators (such as the development of transferable skills and official recognition) are necessary at the individual level. Because obligation-based intrinsic motivation cannot be created in small groups in this type of organization, it must be brought about by developing and emphasizing a strong ideological basis. Higher organizational sustainability is achieved at the expense of a limited individual sustainability. We illustrated the differences described above with a comparison of recruitment, training, and retention strategies used in SN and GSUSA. The viability of our approach remains to be demonstrated through future research. Nonetheless, by combining intrinsic motivation theory based on framing theory with the theory of volunteer management, we have been able to generate a more consistent view of processes that underlie the sustainability of volunteer motivation.

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CHAPTER 11

Ethnic Identity and Solidarity with Functional Groups Karen van der Zee

The world is globalizing, and the social groups in which we work, study, or recreate are becoming more pluralistic in nature. Consequently, societies have to cope with the integration of different cultures. It is an important question how immigrants can be motivated to act prosocially toward members of their new societies and to refrain from antisocial behaviors. Why would immigrants care about pollution, about people being robbed on the streets, or about paying taxes if they only feel partly embraced by the new community? Under what conditions is solidarity of minority group members with societal institutions and, more generally, the wider society likely to occur? Language problems, reluctance on the part of the majority group with an (often) higher social status to accept minority members in their group, cultural differences: all these factors may prohibit the development of social relationships that cross the borders of the ethnic group. It seems essential that minority members of society are able to define their social identities in terms of important functional groups within society (being a sorority member, a parent with other parents in a day care facility, an employee in a company, a member of a soccer team) rather than solely in terms of ethnicity. Only under those circumstances are minority members likely to identify with the norms and the values of those functional groups and to behave accordingly. In this chapter I will discuss how patterns of solidary behavior may emerge that match the requirements of society or institutions within society. Departing from social identity theory (Tajfel and Turner, 1986; Turner, 1982), the focus is on the interface between categorical identities (ethnic group, age, gender) and identities linked to functional groups, as well as on the way identities can be combined in order to promote solidarity frames (cf. Lindenberg, 1998 and this volume). Following Lindenberg’s arguments, I expect to find that when minority members frame their relationship to the functional group in terms of solidarity with that group, this puts the norms of the functional group at the center of their attention and shifts the 175

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motivation to comply with conflicting minority norms into the background. A number of variables are examined that are assumed to stimulate a common identity in diverse groups. In conclusion, possible interventions aimed at promoting a common group identity among ethnic minority groups will be discussed.

Diversity, Social Identity, and Solidarity Social categorization theory assumes that individuals have a tendency to categorize themselves according to their membership of social groups (see Turner, 1982). People who participate in societal groups, like sporting teams, work groups, or school committees, often differ in terms of important social categories, such as gender, age, or ethnicity. This implies that members of a given functional group have two important sources of identification: their functional group (e.g., their work team or sports club) and their social category within that group (e.g., their gender or ethnic identity). Ashforth (2001) argued that the salience of an identity to an individual is determined by the identity’s subjective importance and its situational relevance. A subjectively important identity is one that is highly central to an individual’s core sense of self or is otherwise highly relevant to his or her goals, values, or other key attributes (cf. Miller, Urban, and Vanman, 1998; Sherman, Hamilton, and Lewis, 1999). The more subjectively important a person’s identity, the more likely he or she is to seek opportunities to enact the identity, and to define a situation as identity relevant (Ashforth and Johnson, 2001). Ethnic identity is subjectively important for most individuals. Moreover, similarity is an important basis for categorization (see Turner, 1982). Equal norms and values combined with common experiences lead members of ethnic subgroups to feel attracted to each other. Therefore, culture is highly likely to exert an influence on a person’s attitudes and behavior. If the primary source for identification is the social category, the ethnic group reinforces behaviors that are consistent with group members’ cultural values rather than with norms of the functional group (e.g., the person’s project team at work). Consequently, what is regarded as appropriate behavior differs across ethnic subgroups in the social group. Incompatibility of cultural values may then harm constructive group processes (e.g., Messick and Mackie, 1989; Tajfel, 1982; Tajfel and Turner, 1986). What is perceived as solidary behavior is then determined by existing reciprocal relations with ethnic group members rather than by relations with members of the functional group. For example, under conditions of strong ethnic identification, a Surinam football player on the Dutch team may be inclined to support his Surinam fellow player who was not selected for the final team by refraining from playing, rather than offering his tal-

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ents for the benefit of the team. In a study among postgraduate students in Birmingham who worked on a group task in teams that varied in terms of diversity, we showed that commitment to the team was reduced when team members strongly identified themselves with their ethnic background (Van der Zee, Atsma, and Brodbeck, 2004). Social reference groups provide the enforcement and meaning of and rationale for behavior exhibited by the group. To create the solidarity frame that stimulates group members to direct their behavior toward important group goals, it seems important that the self-categorization of group members and task conditions are congruent (e.g., Worchel, Morales, Páez, and Deschamps, 1998). This means that, in functional groups, the primary source of self-categorization should be membership of that particular group rather than the ethnic group. If group members identify with the functional group rather than with their ethnic group, they share their social identities. The meaning of and rationale for behavior exhibited by the group is then provided by group goals and the norms and values that exist within the group. Under those conditions, minority group members are more willing to contribute to the common goals of the group. Indeed, empirical research has shown that group identification plays an important role in shaping perceptions of solidarity and of group members’ willingness to engage in collective action (Doosje, Ellemers, and Spears, 1995; Karasawa, 1991; Veenstra and Haslam, 2000). Identification with task groups in particular occurs quite naturally. Human beings seem to have in common a need to work or to produce something, a tendency to search for purpose or meaning in life, and a tendency to adjust to institutions. From the perspective of framing theory, this striving for common purpose and a collective identity can be understood as a tendency to establish a stable normative frame in the group (Lindenberg, 1998). Such a frame makes the behavior of others predictable. It sets the norms for giving and taking. It makes giving less risky, because the person knows that he or she is likely to get something in return by virtue of the group norms. However, in situations of a competing subgroup identity this tendency is less obvious. What can groups do to ensure that a strong group identity occurs? First, it seems important to create functional interdependence among group members. Shea and Guzzo (1987) propose that group effectiveness is a consequence of the extent to which an individual group member depends on other members of the group to be able to carry out his or her task (task interdependence) and the extent to which a group member believes that other group members’ goal attainment facilitates movement toward his or her own goals (outcome interdependence) (see also Van der Vegt, Emans, and Van de Vliert, 2000, 2001; Van der Vegt and Flache, this volume). In intercultural groups, it is possible to benefit from the different perspectives of other group members. Whether

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these different perspectives result in solidary behavior depends on how the interdependence between group members is structured. As stated earlier, diverse groups seem to be most effective under conditions whereby each group member has a specific role in the group and group outcomes are reached through internal differentiation and the capacity for different members to perform different roles. Group diversity may have neutral or negative implications for solidarity if there is little task interdependence or little need to interact. There is no need for a strong group identity to develop in this case and ethnic subgroups may be the major source of identification. If a group member performs under conditions of high task interdependence combined with low outcome interdependence, however, he or she is not likely to develop positive attitudes toward other group members or readiness to be influenced by information, suggestions, and ideas provided by others (cf. Deutsch, 1973). In such a situation, ethnic diversity may trigger cooperation problems, conflict, distrust, and stereotyping. This inhibits a group member’s overall pleasure in the task and his or her motivation to generate, adopt, and implement new ideas. As a result, ethnic diversity is negatively related to group processes and outcomes (see also Van der Vegt and Flache, this volume; Van der Vegt, Van de Vliert, and Oosterhof, 2003). Conversely, if a group member works under conditions of high task interdependence combined with high outcome interdependence, he or she will use the knowledge and skills of interdependent members to solve problems, will experience high-quality group processes and extensive mutual learning, and will be receptive to information and suggestions from interdependent others. In such a situation, group diversity may provide positive outcomes. That is, the facilitative and cooperative interactions with dissimilar group members, resulting from high task and goal interdependence, may enhance group members’ willingness to cooperate with and help others. An example is a group of volunteers working on a plan to create recreation space in a new neighborhood where the local government is considering building new apartments. Group members may be citizens who are lawyers, urban planners, gardeners, and even sculptors, who may all make a specific contribution to the quality and acceptance of the final plan and all benefit from the final result. It is not difficult to imagine that under those circumstances the focus would be on learning from each other and mutual help rather than on the fact that the architect is from Arabia, the gardener is from England, and the urban planner is from Amsterdam. Second, it seems important to focus on similarities between group members and to find ways to represent the differences between group members. According to Brewer (1991), social identification is rooted not only in a need to belong (see also Tajfel, 1978) but also in the need to be distinct. These needs are contradictory and, therefore,


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difficult to combine. In defining group membership in an ethnically diverse team, a strong emphasis is usually put on similarities and on adjustment to well-defined (majority) norms. The need to be distinct is thereby threatened, particularly among minority members. Since group affiliations are in many cases powerful and emotionally significant, group members may resist giving up their distinctiveness and, in the case of ethnicity may even be unable to do so (Brown, Vivian, and Hewstone, 1999). Studies on mergers, for example, show that mutual prejudice increases when it is emphasized too much that employees from the merged groups are similar. Under those conditions, employees themselves start to focus on differences (Hornsey and Hogg, 1999; Van Leeuwen and Van Knippenberg, 2003). Brown et al. (1999) argue that it is, therefore, desirable that, under conditions of diversity, group members be allowed to keep at least part of their distinctiveness. This can be achieved by creating possibilities for group members to identify themselves at a personal level with their ethnic background, and at a functional level with their task group. Dual identification in groups with both a subgroup and a superordinate group is usually referred to in the literature as dual identity (Gaertner and Dovidio, 2000; Gaertner, Mann, Dovidio, Murrell, and Pomare, 1990). Empirical evidence has shown that a dual identity is associated with positive group outcomes in terms of more harmonious intergroup relations (Gaertner, Rust, Dovidio, Bachman, and Anastasio, 1994). Little research has been conducted to examine the outcomes of dual identity in relation to ethnic diversity. In our own work among postgraduate students in Birmingham, we failed to find support for advantages of a dual identity over a strong identification with the team only (Van der Zee, Atsma, et al., 2004). Patterns of identification have also been investigated in relation to the acculturation of immigrants into societies. Four strategies were distinguished that immigrants can use in adjusting to the new society, depending on whether they give up or maintain aspects of their native culture and on whether or not they value interactions with members of the new culture (Berry, 1997). These strategies define the way the new society is framed and the social relations that are likely to develop. Seeking interactions with members of the new culture and giving up one’s old culture is referred to as assimilation; seeking interactions in the new culture, but also maintaining aspects of the old culture is called integration. A cultural identity characterized by low identification with the native culture and avoidance of contacts in the new culture is called marginalization, and, finally, a culture characterized by identifying with the old culture but avoidance of contacts in the new culture is referred to as separation. It is not difficult to draw a parallel between assimilation and the development of a superordinate identity, and between integration and the development of a dual identity. Research has clearly shown that, in terms of well-being,

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integration is associated with more favorable outcomes than assimilation (Van Oudenhoven and Eisses, 1998; Van Oudenhoven, Prins, and Buunk, 1998). As far as I know, no research has explicitly linked assimilation and integration to solidarity. In the previous sections the disadvantages of imposing a strong superordinate category have been highlighted, and the potential virtues of a dual identity have been discussed. Brewer and Gardner (1996) go even further and argue against a strong focus on collective identities. They argue that, when a collective identity is primed, people are motivated to ensure the welfare of their group, often relative to other groups. When this happens, people tend to characterize themselves in terms of the group prototype and determine their self-worth by evaluating how their group compares to other groups. Particularly in performance-oriented social contexts such as work organizations, the emergence of competition may lead to a lack of solidarity with the larger organization. Moreover, it may leave minority members fearing that they will be categorized and deemed unworthy in-group members. Low self-esteem and negative feelings may result in hostility toward majority members, and this negativity is likely to be reciprocated by the majority members (Brickson, 2000). Brewer and Gardner (1996) argue that mutual cognitive understanding and concern among majority and minority members are most likely to occur from a relational identity orientation. Such an orientation is likely to emerge from dyadic relationships, for example, organized in small face-to-face groups or dense and integrated networks. Moreover, it is stimulated by activities directed toward ensuring the welfare of others (mentoring or providing emotional or instrumental support, for example, as a volunteer caregiver). Under such circumstances, minority identities can remain evident without becoming the cognitive focus of interaction. The situation is framed in terms of relations rather than in terms of group membership and the norms that go along with it. Studies indicate that a relational orientation promotes the extension of empathy and positive affect, even beyond one’s immediate interaction partners to other targets and perceivers (Pettigrew, 1997). Interestingly, Wright, Aron, McLaughin-Volpe, and Ropp (1997) found a so-called extended contact effect: merely knowing that an in-group member has had significant interactions with an out-group member leads to improved attitudes toward members of that out-group. To extend these findings to solidary behavior, the solidary behavior of minority members may be enhanced by significant interpersonal relations with majority group members or by the observation that important in-group members engage in such relations. Much of the skepticism about creating functional group identities is based on observations of experimentally created groups or real groups (such as nations) whereby no interactions were involved. Research on real groups in work organizations suggests


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that identification with a functional group does not necessarily evoke negative stereotypes of out-group members (Hennessy and West, 1999). It therefore seems worthwhile to further investigate the conditions under which the development of a dual identity is facilitated. In the next section I will discuss a number of variables that may affect the ability of groups to create dual identities among their members.

Personality and Identity Patterns Research on intercultural adjustment has suggested that personality may be related to patterns of identification among immigrants. Van der Zee and Van Oudenhoven (2000, 2001) distinguish between a number of intercultural traits that seem relevant in this regard: cultural empathy, open-mindedness, social initiative, emotional stability, and flexibility. Cultural empathy denotes the ability to recognize and empathize with the feelings, cognitions, and behaviors of members of different cultural groups. Open-mindedness refers to an open and tolerant attitude toward members of different cultural groups and toward different norms and values. Individuals high in social initiative have a tendency to take initiative and to approach other persons rather than to wait and see what others do. Emotional stability refers to a tendency to remain calm in stressful situations versus a tendency to show strong emotional reactions under stressful circumstances. Finally, flexibility denotes an ability to adjust one’s familiar ways of acting in response to the demands of new and unknown situations, and a tendency to see new situations as a challenge. In an earlier study among Frisian emigrants, we found evidence that cultural empathy and openmindedness both were related to the acculturation strategy of integration (Van der Zee, Van Oudenhoven, and Bakker, 2002). In another study, emigrants were presented with case descriptions of an emigrant who used one of the four strategies stated by Berry (1997). The data revealed that flexibility interacted with Berry’s “contact with the new culture” dimension in determining emigrants’ affective and normative reactions. The more flexible they were, the more positive emigrants’ emotional and normative reactions were to descriptions in which the focal person sought contact with the new culture. Flexibility was particularly related to positive emotional and normative reactions to assimilation (Bakker, Van der Zee, and Van Oudenhoven, in press). In a study among immigrants to Germany, Schmitz (1994) found support for a relationship between flexibility as a stress reaction style and integration as the preferred acculturation strategy. In sum, although much more research needs to be done, there is evidence to suggest that the five intercultural traits may facilitate the development of a dual identity.

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Group Culture and Identity Patterns In addition to personality traits, group culture seems to influence identification in intercultural groups. Hofstede (1980, 1991) has performed influential work in the field of cultural values. He identified four dimensions of cultural differences that seem to hold in both organizations and nations. The dimension of individualism/collectivism refers to whether people define themselves as individuals or as members of a group. The dimension of power distance denotes the degree of formality of relationship with superiors. Third, uncertainty avoidance refers to the degree of ambiguity about the future that can be tolerated; and, fourth, masculinity/femininity indicates whether achievements or interpersonal relationships are valued. How do these dimensions influence social identity patterns among minority groups? First, individualistic cultures stress individuals’ independence from the social group. Collectivistic cultures are characterized by strong, cohesive ingroups and high loyalty toward the in-group (Hofstede, 1991). Bontempo, Lobel, and Triandis (1990), for example, found that individuals from collectivistic cultures are more willing to sacrifice themselves for the benefit of others than are individuals from individualistic cultures. Moreover, individuals from collectivistic cultures derive more satisfaction from compliance with the norms of the group. In comparison with individuals from individualistic cultures, they place more emphasis on the needs and goals of the groups, social norms and obligations, shared responsibilities, and cooperation with group members (Hofstede, 1983; Wheeler, Reis, and Bond, 1989). It must be noted that, although it is likely that collectivism provides the best ground for the development of a strong group identity, it may also neglect individual and culture-related differences between group members and thereby promote assimilation rather than integration in the group. With respect to uncertainty avoidance, a low tolerance for ambiguity seems to be associated with a stronger need for clarity and control (Cox, 1993). Groups with a low tolerance for uncertainty may favor assimilation and separation as ways to manage sociocultural differences. Although in the case of assimilation identity, patterns may emerge that match task conditions and may, therefore, lead to the right solidarity frame and constitute mechanistic rather than organic solidarity patterns. Mechanistic solidarity disregards real differences and threatens distinctiveness needs. Small differences in values are not easily accepted because they introduce uncertainty and potential conflict in the group, and group members expressing such differences may be excluded. Third, a high power distance may lead members from minority groups to think that they are inferior by virtue of their membership of a disadvantaged group. Feelings of inferiority seem also linked to inferior


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skills, such as limited knowledge of the local language and lack of insight into what is expected within the culture of the specific group. This may have a negative impact on identification with the group and strengthen ethnic identity. Finally, to a lesser extent, masculinity/ femininity may also affect patterns of identification. Feminine cultures are defined by an emphasis on good interpersonal relationships and loyalty, and, therefore, promote solidary behavior among their members, thereby providing a good environment for integration. Feminine cultures may also stimulate the development of what Brewer and Gardner (1996) referred to as a relational orientation.

Identification Patterns and Threat The emotional importance of affiliation to one’s cultural group is related to an important function of culture. Being part of a cultural group creates safety. Culture provides a shared perspective on reality that creates order, structure, and meaning (Greenberg, Solomon, and Pyszczynski, 1997). Within a culture, norms and values emerge that protect those who behave according to these norms and values. By living in accordance with the norms and values that exist within a culture, individuals sense that they make a valuable contribution to a meaningful world, which enhances their self-esteem (Greenberg et al., 1992). Giving up part of that culture or acknowledging the fact that one’s cultural worldview is but one of several possible ways of considering reality tends to mean giving up part of that safety. It is, therefore, not surprising that the importance of cultural values increases when an individual’s basic sense of safety is threatened (Greenberg et al., 1997; Solomon, Greenberg, and Pyszczinsky, 1991). The patriotic reaction of the American people to the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001, provides a clear historic example in this regard. The willingness of American people to help fellow Americans who suffered loss was intriguing, as was their overt negative and aggressive attitude toward citizens with an Islamic background. Empirical evidence can also be found in the scientific literature. In a series of studies, Greenberg, Pyszczynski, and Solomon (1990), for example, showed that Christian subjects were inclined to view Jewish targets more negatively when threat was induced by making the subjects think about their own death (mortality salience). In a study performed by Rosenblatt, Greenberg, Solomon, Pyszczynski, and Lyon in 1989 (Study 1), municipal court judges were asked to set bond for a hypothetically alleged prostitute. They found that judges set higher bonds for the alleged prostitute upon introduction of threat, again making death salient, than in a control condition. Moral transgressors implicitly or explicitly challenge our worldview, evoking a strong cultural

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frame in which the norms and values of a different subgroup are strongly disapproved of. Under threatening circumstances, individuals strongly need the protection of their culture in order to retain a positive sense of self and the world around them, and consequently are more strongly inclined to adhere to their own cultural group. This stimulates solidary behavior directed at their own cultural group rather than at social groups that are less central to their self-concepts. In an experimental study among students, we found that individual differences in identification with an intercultural situation and perceptions of such situations as threatening disappeared after induction of threat (Van der Zee, Van Oudenhoven, and De Grijs, 2004).

Identification Patterns and Power The likelihood that minority and particularly majority members will accept a normative frame that is based on their membership of a functional group rather than their ethnic group depends on the power differences associated with the different groups. Hence, intergroup hostility and antagonism are natural results of competition between groups for control of the economic, political, and social structures of social systems (Giles and Evans, 1986). Strong power differences lead to strong tensions between minority and majority groups over whether to change or preserve the status quo. Interethnic conflicts in South Africa and, recently, Zimbabwe provide clear examples. At the level of individuals within functional groups, powerless individuals are motivated to reduce the power distance between themselves and more powerful groups and individuals, as long as they perceive the possibility for movement. Under conditions where structural barriers prevent them from moving upward, however, they distance themselves from powerful others mentally and cognitively (Fiske, 1993; Mulder, 1977). Under such circumstances, other low-status minority members form the primary source of identification.

Conclusions and Possibilities for Interventions In sum, I have argued that both by stimulating identification of immigrants with the new society and by creating strong identification with relevant social groups, rather than primarily with ethnic background, the solidarity of both ethnic minority group members and majority group members may increase. Strong identification with relevant social groups that extend the borders of cultural groups leads people to frame their relationships in terms of solidarity with the goals of the social group. These insights can be used to design diagnostic tools as well as interventions.


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First, social identity theory distinguishes a number of strategies aimed at reducing problems in intergroup relations by creating alternative categorizations among individuals (Messick and Macky, 1989; Tajfel and Turner, 1986). These strategies can be used in interventions to create a more positive social identity among immigrants. Examples of strategies are the creation of subordinate goals and recategorization. The former strategy is also one of the core conditions for reducing negative attitudes among group members in the contact hypothesis. With respect to recategorization, patterns of identification with social groups (work teams, school classes) and with social categories (ethnic category, gender) can be enforced experimentally. For example, Gonzalez and Brown (1999) showed an instruction film on earlier groups performing a task, whereby the common identity of two subgroups was made salient or not. It is assumed that stressing the common identity of the group in relation to the task causes the cultural frame to be replaced by a functional group frame, and thereby stimulates solidary behavior toward the functional group. The identity of the social reference group can be made salient, for example, by articulating group mission statements, celebrating group achievements, formulating a group dress code, or creating a group logo (Ashforth and Johnson, 2001). Second, as I have argued, there may be a disadvantage of a strong focus on collective identities. Under certain circumstances, it seems preferable to stimulate the development of social identities based on interpersonal relationships rather than group membership. The idea of creating small face-to-face groups or dense and integrated networks can be traced back to the basic principles of the contact hypothesis (Allport, 1954). The contact hypothesis states that under particular conditions contact between members of two groups with different norms and values may lead to a reduction in negative attitudes. The core of the theory is the particular conditions, such as having equal status, disconfirming stereotypes, equalitarian norms, intimacy between members of both groups, and interdependent attainment of common goals. Particularly intimacy seems to be an important criterion for the development of what Brewer and Gardner (1996) refer to as relational identity orientation. The importance of creating interdependence was stressed at the beginning of the chapter. Third, it seems that patterns of functional interdependence and power differences can be manipulated using structural interventions in the way group tasks are organized and in group composition. With respect to personality, providing group members with training in the different dimensions may be helpful. Although we have shown that the five intercultural traits are reasonably stable over time (Van der Zee and Van Oudenhoven, 2000), we have also shown that experience in living abroad (Van der Zee and Brinkmann, 2004) is associated with an increase in scores, suggesting that training can be effective.

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Furthermore, tolerance for ethnic diversity decreases in situations of threat. This implies that social groups have to be extra alert to solidarity problems linked to diversity under conditions of threat, for example, due to reorganizations or fusions between groups. More generally, it seems important to create conditions that provide members with a sense of safety. One way to reach this end is to create a climate of mutual understanding among group members. Empathy and trust enhance positive feelings toward the group as a whole (Batson et al., 1997; Finlay and Stephan, 2000; Galinsky and Moskowitz, 2000) and can help to reduce threat and anxiety in interacting with out-group members (Hewstone, Rubin, and Willis, 2002; Stephan and Finlay, 1999). In addition, I have stressed the importance of a group climate that accepts differences between group members. In this regard, Cox (1993) argues that an intercultural group climate is characterized by tolerance for ambiguity, by an appreciation of differences, and by low rigidity with respect to what is regarded as acceptable behavior of group members. If a group manages to create a shared common identity among its members that is linked to the functional aims of the group, and yet at the personal level acknowledges and appreciates interpersonal differences, all group members— from both majority and minority subgroups—may start to feel committed to the aims of the group. Under those circumstances, solidarity patterns will emerge that benefit the group and will eventually also help immigrants integrate into the new society.

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Van der Zee, K.I., and Brinkmann, U. (2004). Construct validity evidence for the Intercultural Readiness Check against the Multicultural Personality Questionnaire. International Journal of Selection and Assessment, 12, 285–290. Van der Zee, K.I., and Van Oudenhoven, J.P. (2000). Psychometric qualities of the Multicultural Personality Questionnaire: A multidimensional instrument of multicultural effectiveness. European Journal of Personality, 14, 291–309. Van der Zee, K.I., and Van Oudenhoven, J.P. (2001). The Multicultural Personality Questionnaire: Reliability and validity of self- and other ratings of multicultural effectiveness. Journal of Research in Personality, 35, 278–288. Van der Zee, K.I., Van Oudenhoven, J.P., and Bakker, A.B. (2002). Individual differences in adaptation and well-being. In D. Gorter and K.I. van der Zee (Eds.), Frisians abroad (pp. 57–69). Leeuwarden: Fryske Akademy Press. Van der Zee, K.I., Van Oudenhoven, J.P., and De Grijs, E. (2004). Personality, threat and cognitive and emotional reactions to intercultural situations. Journal of Personality, 72, 1069–1096. Van Leeuwen, E., and Van Knippenberg, D. (2003). Organizational identification following a merger: the importance of agreeing to differ. In S.A. Haslam, D. van Knippenberg, M.J. Platow, and N. Ellemers (Eds.), Social identity at work: Developing theory for organizational practice (pp. 205–221). Philadelphia: Psychology Press. Van Oudenhoven, J.P., and Eisses, A. (1998). Integration and assimilation of Moroccan immigrants in Israel and the Netherlands. International Journal of Intercultural Relations, 22(3), 293–307. Van Oudenhoven, J.P., Prins, K., and Buunk, B.P. (1998). Attitudes of minority and majority members towards adaptation of immigrants. European Journal of Social Psychology, 28, 995–1013. Veenstra, K., and Haslam, S.A. (2000). Willingness to participate in industrial protest: Exploring social identification in context. British Journal of Social Psychology, 39, 153–172. Wheeler, L., Reis, H.T., and Bond, M.H. (1989). Collectivism/individualism in everyday social life: The middle kingdom and the melting pot. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 57, 79–86. Worchel, S., Morales, J.F., Páez, D., and Deschamps, J.C. (Eds.). (1998). Social identity: International perspectives. London: Sage. Wright, S.C., Aron, A., McLaughin-Volpe, T., and Ropp, S.A. (1997). The extended contact effect: Knowledge of cross-group friendships and prejudice. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 73, 73–90.

CHAPTER 12

Solidarity in the Absence of External Sanctions: A Cross-Cultural Study of Educational Goals and Fair-Share Behavior Detlef Fetchenhauer and Rafael Wittek

In the main theoretical framework of the present book, it was outlined that an actor’s level of solidary and prosocial behavior in a given situation is largely dependent on his or her framing of the situation. According to Lindenberg’s framing theory (in this volume), three general and distinct ways of framing a given situation can be: (1) a hedonic frame aimed at immediate pleasure, (2) a gain frame aimed at the maximization of one’s own personal resources and largely ignoring the well-being of others, and (3) a normative frame in which people aim to do what is morally appropriate even if such behavior opposes their material self-interests. In this chapter we relate this theory to determine in which situations people follow social norms of fairness and (financial) honesty. When investigating this question, it is necessary to distinguish two kinds of situations. First, an actor may perceive that disobeying a certain social norm might lead to some external sanctions. Take the example of a university professor who has given a presentation at a private company and has earned 2,000 euros for this. When filling in his yearly tax declaration, he wonders whether or not to declare this extra income. This does not need to be a moral question. If the professor assumes the tax authorities will find out if he conceals this extra income and he expects severe punishment for such behavior, he may indicate the extra income simply because he wants to avoid the punishment. In the terminology of Lindenberg’s framing theory, the professor’s decision in this example is independent of whether he is in a normative or in a gain frame. Even if he feels no moral obligation at all to pay his taxes, he may do so because he perceives this decision to be in his material self-interest. To put it differently: if external sanctions are severe enough, problems in ensuring solidary behavior do not emerge. 191

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However, what do people do if they do not have to fear any external sanctions? Consider the following example: a person finds a wallet on the street. In the wallet is some money and the address of the putative owner. What does the person do? He knows that the money isn’t his and that it would be fairest to send the wallet to the owner without removing any money. However, nobody saw him find the wallet. Thus, nobody will ever find out if he keeps the money for himself. In situations like these, a person’s behavior very much depends on his or her framing of the situation. If this person is in a gain frame, he will take the money. Only if he is in a normative frame will the person do what is morally appropriate and send the money back. Many chapters in the present book deal with the question of when people use a normative frame or a gain frame in a given situation. This chapter deals with cross-country differences with regard to a certain kind of solidary behavior: people’s willingness to refrain from financially exploiting others when they have the chance to do so. In determining whether people in some countries are more honest and more trustworthy than people in others, we concentrated on a cluster of behaviors that can be described as follows: (1) when disobeying rules of fairness and honesty, no sanctions are to be feared, (2) the victim of one’s antisocial behavior is an unknown other person (as in the example of the lost wallet) or an anonymous institution (as in the case of tax evasion). We refer to the degree to which people refrain from antisocial and unsolidary behavior in such situations as fair-share behavior. The labeling of this scale appears to be somewhat arbitrary. In previous studies in which related operationalizations were used as in this study, similar scales were called “civic virtues” by Knack and Keefer (1997), “material self-interest” by Halpern (2001), and “financial honesty” by Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt (2001).

The Measurement of Fair-Share Behavior It is a demanding task to measure fair-share behavior at the crosscountry level because it is then necessary to conduct large-scale surveys in different countries using identical questionnaires. Fortunately, items that can be regarded as indicators of fair-share behavior were measured in the World Value Surveys (WVS). This survey is an international study that was conducted in a large number of different countries at different points of time. For the present analysis, we used data from the first two waves of the WVS, which were gathered in 24 different societies in 1981 and in 43 different societies in 1990 (Inglehart, 1990, 1997). At both points of measurement, random samples comprised of approximately 1,000 to 2,000 respondents in each

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country. We restricted the analysis to Western democratic industrialized countries that participated in at least one of these two waves. Nondemocratic third-world countries were excluded because in these countries the validity of participants’ answers is questionable and samples might not be representative (see Van de Vliert and Lindenberg, this volume). In both waves of the WVS, respondents were given a list of 24 behaviors that might be regarded as morally wrong. The subjects were asked to indicate how “justified” they would judge these behaviors on a 10-point Likert scale ranging from never to always. For our purposes, however, it did not appear reasonable to use all 24 behaviors as indicators of solidarity. For example, whereas euthanasia and abortion are forbidden or deviant behaviors in some countries, they are legal and socially accepted in the Netherlands. We thus restricted our analysis to seven items that refer to different aspects of fair-share behavior. The choice of these seven items was based on the following arguments: First, all seven indicators were highly correlated with each other and could thus be integrated into one single scale (see also Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt, 2001). Second, all seven indicators refer to behaviors that are forbidden by law and are thus legally sanctioned. Third, all items refer to private decisions of a certain actor, in which the probability of external sanctions might be low. The seven indicators were: (1) avoiding paying a fare on public transport; (2) claiming government benefits you are not entitled to; (3) cheating on tax if you have the chance; (4) buying something you know was stolen; (5) keeping money that you have found; (6) accepting a bribe in the course of duties; and (7) failing to report damage you have done accidentally to a parked vehicle. For the further analysis, we integrated these seven indicators of fair-share behavior into one single scale. Generally speaking, respondents in all countries indicated that the seven behaviors in question were illegitimate. The averages on the 10-point Likert scale ranged between 1.6 (“Buying something you know was stolen” in 1981) to 3.0 (“Keeping money that you found” in 1990). It may be argued that the answers of the participants were highly influenced by aspects of social desirability and that, therefore, any crosscultural differences that might be found with regard to this scale measure differences in social desirability rather than differences in fair-share behavior. If this interpretation were correct, however, a one-dimensional structure should be found of all 24 items that measured the legitimacy of behaviors that might be condemned from a moral perspective. This was not the case as factor analyses of these 24 items revealed a multidimensional structure (see also Halpern, 2001). Of course, this multidimensionality is only an indication that the answers were not simply an artifact of cross-country differences in social desirability. More important is the relationship of the scale with behavioral measures.

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In this regard, an experiment reported in the Economist (“Whom can you trust?” June 22, 1996) is of some importance. In 14 different European countries, 20 wallets containing $50 and the addresses of their putative owners were intentionally lost. The percentage of wallets that were sent back to the owner in each country was positively related to our measure of fair-share behavior (r = .42; p < .10). Further evidence for the validity of our fair-share behavior scale comes from studies in which that scale was related to interpersonal trust, economic growth rates, and crime rates.

Fair-Share Behavior and Interpersonal Trust Putnam (1993) assumes that (financial) honesty and interpersonal trust, as important elements of social capital, are positively correlated with each other. This positive correlation is explained in two different ways (Knack and Keefer, 1997). First, it is argued that people are able to estimate the trustworthiness of their fellow citizens: people in countries with a high level of honesty tend to trust each other because they know that most of their fellow citizens are honest (i.e., can be trusted). According to this argument, trust is merely the perception of others’ honesty. Another explanation has it that in many situations it only “pays” to be honest if one’s interaction partner is also honest (e.g., in a prisoner’s dilemma game). According to this line of reasoning, honesty and trust can be regarded as characteristics that are mutually reinforcing. That is, the more people trust each other, the more they tend to be honest, and vice versa. In a recent study, Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt (2001) empirically investigated the relationship between fair-share behavior and interpersonal trust. As a measure of interpersonal trust, they used the following item from the WVS: “Generally speaking, would you say that most people in your country can be trusted or that you can’t be too careful in dealing with people?” Possible answers to that dichotomous question were “Most people can be trusted” and “You can’t be too careful.” For each country, the percentage of people that indicated that “Most people can be trusted” was taken as a measure of general trust in others. Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt showed that a country’s level of interpersonal trust was substantially correlated to the country’s degree of fair-share behavior.

Fair-Share Behavior and Economic Growth Rates According to Putnam (1993) and Coleman (1990), the level of fairshare behavior in a country can be regarded as one element of its social capital. The main argument of social capital theory is that societies are


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endowed with social as well as physical and human capital (e.g., employee’s skills and knowledge), and that social capital is an important predictor of long-term economic performance. It can be argued that a high level of mutual trust and fair-share behavior in a society lowers transaction costs and thus increases economic growth (Knack and Keefer, 1997). First, less time and money has to be spent in protecting oneself against exploitation by others (e.g., fewer written contracts are needed, and contracts do not need to specify every possible contingency in advance). Second, more innovations are stimulated because fewer resources are required to monitor business partners or employees, and inventors trust that they will be able to harvest the profits from their inventions (i.e., that their inventions will not be plagiarized by others). Third, in high-trust societies, the decision to hire new personnel can rest mainly on the formal qualifications of applicants while, in low-trust societies, relatedness or personal knowledge is important to ensure the trustworthiness of a new employee. This leads people to invest more resources in their own human capital in high-trust societies because they can count on their formal skills and knowledge being considered. In sum, a high level of social capital in a country reduces transaction costs and thus stimulates activities that lead to a high level of economic growth. In line with this reasoning, fair-share behavior (as measured in the WVS) was a significant and important predictor of economic growth rates (Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt, 2001; Knack and Keefer, 1997). The higher a country scored on fair-share behavior, the higher its growth rates were. This relationship was still significant when a number of other variables were controlled for (i.e., urbanization, economic inequality, proportion of agriculture in the gross domestic product, and economic prosperity) (Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt, 2001). Thus, the more people in a country tend to be honest in financial affairs, the more people trust each other and the better the country’s economic performance.

Fair-Share Behavior and Criminality As Halpern (2001) has shown, fair-share behavior, as measured in the WVS, is also significantly related to crime rates. Halpern used an index of fair-share behavior (called “material self-interest”) similar to that used by Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt (2001) and Knack and Keefer (1997), and related this index to crime rates as they were measured in the International Crime Victimization Survey (ICVS) (Van Dijk and Mayhew, 1992). In the ICVS, respondents were asked whether they had been victim to different forms of crime during the previous 12 months. An index of five different and rather serious crimes (i.e., theft, burglary, robbery, physical assaults, and sexual assaults) was used as a measure of national crime rates.

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Based on a sample of 15 Western countries, Halpern showed that the lower a country’s crime rate was, the higher its level of fair-share behavior (r = −.49). This negative relationship between honesty and crime rates remained significant even when other potential predictors of crime rates (e.g., urbanization, economic inequality, or gross domestic product) were controlled for. When these variables were entered into regression analyses, the explanatory power of fair-share behavior even increased to a ß-coefficient of .68. In sum, the external validity of the scale used to measure fair-share behavior in the WVS was proved with regard to a number of different criteria. The higher a country’s scores on the scale, the more often lost money was returned to its owner, the more people trusted each other in everyday life, the better the country’s economic performance, and the lower its crime rates.

Educational Styles and Cross-Country Differences in Fair-Share Behavior Cross-country differences in fair-share do have real and important consequences. But how can these differences between different nations be explained? As was outlined above, the indicators of fair-share used in the WVS refer to situations in which an actor can follow his or her own financial interest without facing the risk of being detected. The question remains, what determines whether people internalize social fairness norms? A partial answer to how people internalize moral norms can be found in research on educational styles (Hoffman, 2000; see Hoffman, 1970). As Hoffman (2000) emphasizes, many interactions between children and their parents consist of the parents telling the children to stop or to refrain from a certain kind of behavior. Such disciplinary efforts occur up to 10 times an hour, 50 times a day, and 15,000 times a year (Hoffman, 2000). According to Hoffman, these disciplinary efforts can take three basic forms: Power assertion. This kind of behavior implies threats of physical force or deprivation of possessions and privileges, and actual force or deprivation. For example, a mother sees her six-year-old son hitting his younger brother and says, “If you don’t stop that immediately, I will beat you too.” Love withdrawal. Here, parents threaten to or actually withdraw affectionate resources from their children. For example, “If you hurt your little brother, I will not read a bedtime story to you this evening.” Induction. Parents using inductive methods to educate their children encourage their children to take the perspective of the victim of their behavior. By this means, they aim to stimulate empathic concern for


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the suffering of the child’s victim. For example, “Your little brother is very sad if you always hit him.” Hoffman (2000) notes that all three of these disciplinary methods are successful most of the time. In most instances, parents are able to make their children stop a certain kind of behavior (at least for the moment). Furthermore, all three methods make very clear the parents’ disapproval of their children’s behavior. Hoffman asserts, however, that there are important differences between the three kinds of behavior: Inductions do two important things that other discipline techniques do not do: (a) they call attention to the victim’s distress and make it salient to the child, thus tapping into the child’s empathic proclivity (using it as an ally) by activating any or all of his or her empathy-arousing mechanisms and producing empathic distress and (b) inductions point up to the role of the child’s action in causing that distress. This creates the condition for feeling empathy-based guilt, which is a feeling of intense disesteem for oneself for wrongfully hurting another. (Hoffman, 2000, p. 151)

He further argues that the more parents use inductive methods to educate their children, the more prosocial behavior gets internalized, since only this disciplinary method can raise empathic consideration for the victim of a child’s misbehavior. As a large number of studies have shown, empathy with the victim is a strong determinant of prosocial behavior. Especially Daniel Batson (1991) has made this assumption central in his studies of altruistic and prosocial behavior (for an overview of these studies, see Bierhoff, 2002). Hoffman’s theory has been tested using experimental methods (Kuczynski, 1983; Sawin and Parke, 1980) and correlational methods (e.g., Krevans and Gibbs, 1996). Most of these studies confirmed Hoffman’s main hypotheses. For example, Krevans and Gibbs presented parents with five different scenarios in which a child misbehaved and asked them to indicate how they would behave if their own child engaged in such behavior. The answers to these questions were categorized into the different disciplinary methods described above. The prosociality of the children (aged 11 or 14) was measured using teacher ratings as well as behavioral data the children themselves provided (donating money, which they got as a bonus). Furthermore, a number of standardized scales were used to measure the maturity of empathy of the children. In line with Hoffman’s theory, the more parents indicated use of inductions and the less they indicated use of power assertion, the higher the children’s degree of prosocial behavior. This link was no longer significant if children’s empathy was included in the analysis. This result was in line with the assumption that the relationship between inductive disciplinary methods and prosocial behavior is mediated by the effect of inductions on children’s empathy.

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To summarize these results, Hoffman (2000) provides an empirically confirmed theory of how prosocial behavior is internalized. It does not help simply to punish children for their antisocial behavior. Instead, it is necessary (a) to explain to them the reasons, why their behavior was wrong, (b) to make them take the victim’s perspective, and (c) to trigger empathic distress with the victim. Lindenberg’s framing theory (see Chapters 1 and 2 of this volume) can be used to further integrate Hoffman’s findings on the effects of educational styles on children’s prosociality into a more general theory of solidary behavior. Referring to Lindenberg’s terminology, it may be argued that the basic difference between a gain frame and a normative frame lies in the focus of an actor’s behavior. When adopting a gain frame, people mainly focus on the consequences of their behavior for themselves. When applying a normative frame, people also regard the possible consequences of their behavior for others. Therefore, use of the educational method of “induction” discussed above has the consequence that people habitually approach social situations using a normative frame, while use of the methods of power assertion and love withdrawal causes people to use a gain frame when approaching social situations. When people are in a gain frame, they focus by definition on their own advantage and thus only cooperate if it is to their benefit. In sum, Hoffman’s theory of norm internalization (2000) and Lindenberg’s framing theory predict that the more people have grown up in a culture that puts emphasis on internalizing prosocial norms by stimulating empathy with the potential victims of antisocial behavior, the more they will tend to act solidarily and prosocially. On the other hand, in cultures that emphasize punishment and external sanctions, people will only follow rules of fairness and honesty if such external sanctions are apparent in a given situation. Related approaches that may explain why people act less prosocially when they are threatened with punishment are Frey’s “economic theory of personal motivation” (Frey and Ntozake, 1997) and Deci’s “theory of intrinsic motivation” (1975).

The Measurement of Educational Styles In the WVS, participants were not asked elaborate questions about how they educated their children. However, they were given a list of 11 “qualities that children can be encouraged to learn at home” and were asked to choose up to five values that they regarded as important. The restriction to name only five important educational goals was not followed in each country to the same degree (e.g., in Iceland, respondents named 8.3 goals on average). Therefore, for the present analysis, the importance of a certain educational goal was measured by relating


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its frequency of mention to the total number of all educational goals that were mentioned as important. Two educational goals can be regarded as indicators of a power-assertive style of education: “obedience” and “independence.” It can be argued that the more authoritarian the educational value system of a country, the more its inhabitants adhere to values like obedience and the less they adhere to values like independence. In line with this reasoning, both values were highly negatively related to each other (r = .64; p < .01): the more often respondents in a country named obedience as an important educational goal, the less often they mentioned independence as important. Thus, it was possible to integrate both variables into one single scale, which we called “authoritarian educational goals” (Cronbach’s alpha of this scale was .78 after “independence” was inverted). For example, in Denmark, a minority of 20% indicated that “obedience” was important, but a vast majority of 81% named “independence” as an important educational goal. On the contrary, in France, 53% mentioned “obedience” as a significant educational goal, but only 27% indicated that “independence” was important. Denmark scored lowest and France scored highest on “authoritarian educational goals.” Is it possible to measure the educational climate of a country by measuring the importance of certain educational goals in a large survey study? There is no way to answer this question directly. However, if current educational goals have their origins in deeply rooted cultural values, then these goals should be related to a number of other indicators of an authoritarian/patriarchal culture.

Indicators of an Authoritarian/Patriarchal Culture Age of Democracy. It can be argued that the longer a country has been a democracy, the more its inhabitants are socialized in a way that emphasizes democratic as opposed to authoritarian and dictatorial ways of solving societal conflicts. The 18 countries that formed the basis of the present study differ in the length of time they have been ruled by a democratic government without interruption. We grouped the countries into three different categories: (1) countries that have been democratic at least since the end of World War I (e.g., Denmark, Switzerland, Britain, and the United States); (2) countries that have been democratic since World War II (e.g., Germany, Austria, and Italy); and (3) countries that had a nondemocratic government for at least some time after 1945 (i.e., Portugal, Spain, and France) (see the Appendix for the values of all countries that were included in the present analysis). We found that people in countries with a long democratic tradition, like Denmark or Switzerland, endorsed authoritarian educational goals to a much lesser degree than did people in countries with a short or unstable democratic tradition, like Spain or Portugal (r = −.53).

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Religious Tradition. We restricted the present analysis purposely to Western industrialized countries with a Christian tradition (Japan was, therefore, excluded from the analysis). However, although these countries are all Christian, they differ widely with respect to whether they can be described as predominantly Catholic or predominantly Protestant. We argue that Catholicism can be regarded as an indicator of an authoritarian/patriarchal culture. This argument is derived from the fact that the sphere of religion and religious institutions has shaped people’s cultural value system for centuries (Hofstede, 1998). The Catholic Church can be described as much more authoritarian and patriarchal than Protestant churches. To begin with, the internal structure is highly undemocratic, with the pope having nearly dictatorial power. Furthermore, women are not allowed to become priests—a fact that clearly highlights the patriarchal nature of the Catholic Church, in which strong distinctions are made between men and women. To measure the countries’ religious traditions, we classified all countries into three different categories (see the Appendix): (1) countries with a strong Protestant tradition and a high percentage of Protestants (e.g., Sweden or Norway); (2) countries with a mixed culture of both Catholics and Protestants (e.g., Germany or the United States); and (3) countries with a high percentage of Catholics (e.g., Italy or France). It was found that people in Catholic countries like France favored authoritarian educational goals much more than people in Protestant countries like Norway (r = .52). Female Empowerment. It can be argued that the less authoritarian and patriarchal a country is, the more women take part in political decisions and hold high positions in politics and business. The United Nations (2001) ranked all countries of the world according to a socalled female empowerment index. As this index was not available for all countries, we used only one of its elements, namely, the percentage of seats in parliament that were held by women in 1990, as a measure of female empowerment (see the Appendix). This variable was strongly related to authoritarian educational goals. The more women in parliament, the less favored authoritarian educational goals were (r = −.66). As can be seen from the above, although the measurement of educational goals in the WVS is surely questionable, these goals were closely related to a number of external criteria. The higher the endorsement of authoritarian educational goals was, the shorter a country’s history of being a stable democracy, the higher the percentage of Catholics, and the more seats in parliament were held by women. Therefore, it seems warranted to regard the measurement of educational goals in the WVS as a valid indicator of authoritarianism.


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The Relationship between Authoritarian Educational Goals and Fair-Share Behavior Having confirmed the validity of both key variables, fair-share behavior and authoritarian educational goals, we tested whether these two variables are negatively related to each other as was hypothesized based on Hoffman (2000) and Lindenberg (this volume). This was found to be the case as the correlation between “authoritarian educational goals” and fair-share behavior indicates (r = − .76; p < .01). The less people in a given country who adhere to authoritarian educational goals (like obedience), the more honest the inhabitants of this country were on average. Figure 12.1 shows how 18 Western industrialized countries scored on these two dimensions. As can be seen, the countries differed greatly: on both dimensions, the countries with the highest values scored about four standard deviations higher than the countries scoring lowest. The figure also reveals a number of different clusters of countries that can be described on the basis of their geography and their cultural (e.g., sociolingual) background. Scandinavian countries tended to have high levels of fair-share behavior and low levels of authoritarian educational goals. This was especially the case for Denmark and Norway. The same was true for Austria and Switzerland, which are geographically very close to each other but appear different with regard to their historical backgrounds—Switzerland is mainly Protestant with a long democratic tradition, whereas Austria is mainly Catholic with a mixed political history. Germany turned out to be a kind of an outlier in this analysis, combining a rather low degree of fair-share behavior with a very low degree of authoritarian educational goals. One can speculate that the strong tendency of Germans to oppose any kind of authoritarian education is a reaction to its Nazi history. Most of the English-speaking countries had moderate values on both fair-share behavior and educational goals. This was true for the United States, Canada, Great Britain, and Ireland. The Netherlands was located in the same cluster (consistent with its self-image of being a rather Anglo-Saxon culture). Countries that are predominantly Catholic and speak Roman languages, like France, Portugal, and Belgium, formed another cluster of countries. People in these countries tended to have a low degree of fairshare behavior but strongly endorsed authoritarian educational goals. Interestingly, Italy (and to some degree Spain) had moderate values on both dimensions and appeared to be more similar to the Anglo-Saxon countries than to their Southern European neighbors. It is beyond the scope of this chapter to explain these results in more detail (e.g., Why is fair-share behavior so much lower in Finland than in most other Scandinavian countries?). In the present study, we

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FIGURE 12.1. Authoritarian educational goals and financial honesty

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were mostly interested in the general relationship between authoritarian educational goals and fair-share behavior. In sum, our hypothesis that these two dimensions are negatively related to each other was clearly confirmed. To test the robustness of the relationship between authoritarian educational goals and fair-share behavior, a regression analysis was run in which a number of other potential predictors of fair-share behavior were controlled for: Economic prosperity. As Fetchenhauer and Van der Vegt (2001) have shown, there is a weak but significant positive correlation between the economic prosperity of a country and the fair-share behavior of its citizens (a cynic might argue that inhabitants of rich countries can more easily afford to be honest as they already have enough money). As a measure of a country’s economic prosperity, we used gross domestic product per capita (World Bank, 1993). Economic inequality. The degree of economic inequality in a country (i.e., the degree to which the richer have more money than the poor) can be regarded as a measure of the grade of relative deprivation that is experienced by the poor people in the country. Feeling deprived of resources might make people willing to gain financial resources by illegitimate means (e.g., by being dishonest in financial affairs). The Gini-index was used as a measurement of income inequality in the different countries. Estimates of the Gini-index were taken from a large dataset made available by the United Nations University (2000). Level of urbanization. A large number of studies show that people in rural areas are more helpful and more often act in a prosocial fashion than people in urban areas (for a summary, see Bierhoff, 2002). Measures of urbanization were derived from Taylor and Jodice (1983). The results of this regression analysis showed that the only significant predictor of fair-share behavior was the degree of authoritarian educational goals (a = −.74). Neither economic prosperity (gross national product) nor economic inequality (the Gini index) nor level of urbanization influenced the average fair-share behavior of a country’s citizens.

Summary and Outlook We analyzed cross-national differences in one kind of solidary behavior: fair-share behavior. We showed that cross-country differences in fair-share behavior are negatively related to the degree to which a country’s inhabitants adhere to authoritarian educational goals. This relationship was robust and substantial even when we controlled for a number of other potential determinants of fair-share behavior (economic prosperity, economic inequality, and level of urbanization).

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Thus, Hoffman’s hypothesis that power assertion and punishment are unsuccessful methods of making children internalize social norms was empirically confirmed. This is the more noteworthy as Hoffman (2000) developed his theory mainly as a developmental psychologist and never intended to use it for the prediction of cross-cultural differences in norm internalization or prosocial behavior. Unfortunately, the WVS does not provide good indicators of whether people adhere to an educational style that Hoffman would describe as “induction.” However, although there were no direct indicators of the use of inductive methods in educating children, two educational goals directly measured the importance of prosocial behavior of children: “responsibility” and “unselfishness.” Neither of these correlated with fair-share behavior. One possible reason for this result is that every culture educates children in prosocial values (Sober and Wilson, 1998). However, according to Hoffman’s theory, the degree to which people really act “unselfishly” and “responsibly” depends not on whether they have been told they should do so but on the way these values have been taught to them. Our findings show that authoritarian educational goals are related to a general patriarchal cultural background. People in countries with a Catholic confessional history, with rather unstable democracies, and with a low percentage of women in parliament had much more authoritarian educational goals than people in countries that are mainly Protestant, have been democracies for a very long time, and have a high percentage of women in parliament. Thus, the way people are taught to follow rules of fairness and solidarity in a given country is deeply rooted in its cultural history. For example, whether countries are mainly Catholic or Protestant has been rather stable for centuries and, as Hofstede (1998) has shown, is related to whether and how long the country was part of the Roman Empire. These facts point to a central problem unique to cross-cultural research: the problem of disentangling mere correlations based on a limited number of countries from real causal analyses. Naturally, crossnational analyses such as those conducted in the present study can never prove any kind of causality, as is possible in laboratory experiments. Nonetheless, the strength of the relationships that we found shows that they can hardly be interpreted as chance. The findings of the present analysis indicate the importance of educational goals as determinants of fair-share behavior. However, as was outlined above, fair-share behavior is only one example of solidary behavior in the absence of external sanctions. Future researchers should investigate in more detail how a country’s educational values and its history determine whether people habitually apply a gain frame or a solidarity frame when they have the choice between acting to their own personal advantage or following the rules of fairness and honesty.


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Appendix: Values for Variables and Scales Used with Regard to 18 Western Industrialized Countries

Country Austria Belgium Britain Canada Denmark Finland France Germany Iceland Ireland Italy Netherlands Norway Portugal Spain Sweden Switzerland United States

Fair-share behavior1

Authoritarian educational goals2

Age of democracy3

1.43 −1.22 −0.20 −0.41 1.52 −0.11 −2.15 −0.43 0.51 0.24 0.05 −0.23 1.07 −1.42 −0.73 1.07 0.97 0.03

−0.92 0.63 0.77 −0.16 −1.76 −0.74 1.82 −1.41 0.29 0.27 0.41 −0.06 −1.29 1.74 0.93 − 0.09 −0.55 0.12

2 3 3 3 3 3 1 2 3 3 2 3 3 1 1 3 3 3

Confessional tradition4 3 3 1 2 1 1 3 2 1 3 3 1 1 3 3 1 1 2

Percentage of women in parliament5 11.50 7.50 6.30 9.60 29.10 31.50 6.40 15.40 20.60 8.40 12.90 20.00 34.40 7.60 6.40 28.50 14.00 5.30

1

z-standardized values (to increase the scale’s reliability, the values of the WVS from 1981 and 1990 were collapsed if available) 2 z-standardized values 3 1 = low (less than 55 years); 2 = medium (since World War II); 3 = high (at least since World War I) 4 1 = large percentage of Protestants; 2 = mixed; 3 = large percentage of Catholics 5 Percentage of women in parliament in 1990

References Batson, C.D. (1991). The altruism question: Towards a social psychological answer. Hillsdale N.J.: Lawrence Erlbaum. Bierhoff, H.W. (2002). Prosocial behavior. Hove: Psychology Press. Coleman, J. (1990). Foundations of social theory. Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press. Deci, E.L. (1975). Intrinsic motivation. New York: Plenum. Fetchenhauer, D., and Van der Vegt, G. (2001). Honesty, trust and economic growth. A cross cultural comparison of Western industrialized countries. Zeitschrift für Sozialpsychologie, 32, 189–200. Frey, B.S., and Ntozake, S. (1997). Not just for the money. Cheltenham: Edward Elgar. Halpern, D. (2001). Moral values, social trust and inequality. Can values explain crime? British Journal of Criminology, 41, 236–251. Hoffman, M.L. (1970). Moral development. In P.H. Mussen (Ed.), Carmichael’s manual of child development (3rd ed., pp. 261–359). New York: Wiley. Hoffman, M.L. (2000). Empathy and moral development. Implications for justice and caring. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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Hofstede, G. (1998). Religion, masculinity, and sex. In G. Hofstede (Ed.), Masculinity and femininity: The taboo dimension of national cultures (pp. 192–209). Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Inglehart, R. (1990). Culture shift in advanced societies. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Inglehart, R. (1997). Modernization and postmodernization. Cultural, economic, and political change in 43 societies. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Knack, S., and Keefer, P. (1997). Does social capital have an economic payoff? A crosscountry investigation. Quarterly Journal of Economics, 112, 1251–1288. Krevans, J., and Gibbs, J.C. (1996). Parents’ use of inductive discipline: Relations to children’s empathy and prosocial behavior. Child Development, 67, 3263–3277. Kuczynski, L. (1983). Reasoning, prohibitions, and motivations for compliance. Developmental Psychology, 19, 126–134. Putnam, R.D. (1993). Making democracies work: Civic traditions in modern Italy. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press. Sawin, D.B., and Parke, R.D. (1980). Empathy and fear as mediators of resistance-to-deviation in children. Merrill-Palmer Quarterly of Behavior and Development, 26, 123–134. Sober, E., and Wilson, D.S. (1998). Unto others: The evolution and psychology of unselfish behavior. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press. Taylor, C.L. and Jodice, D.A. (1983). World handbook of political and social indicators (3rd ed.). New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press. United Nations. (2001). Human development report. Oxford: Oxford University Press. United Nations University. (2000). World income inequality database. Retrieved April 24, 2005, from http://www.wider.unu.edu/wiid/wiid.htm. Van Dijk, J., and Mayhew, P. (1992). Crime victimization in the industrial world. The Hague: Ministry of Justice. Whom can you trust? (1996, June 22). Economist, p. 33. World Bank. (1993). World development report. New York: Oxford University Press.

CHAPTER 13

Wealth, Climate, and Framing: Cross-National Differences in Solidarity Evert van de Vliert and Siegwart Lindenberg

Solidarity in the form of showing concern for other people’s welfare varies, not only across individuals, groups, and organizations, but also across countries (see also Fetchenhauer and Wittek, this volume). Not surprisingly, solidarity seems to be higher in more affluent countries, allegedly because people have more resources, enabling them to be generous (see below). There is contradictory evidence, however. Levine, Norenzayan, and Philbrick (2001) conducted a series of field experiments on spontaneous helping in large cities in 23 countries in North and South America, Western and Eastern Europe, Africa, and Asia. They found more helping in poor countries than in rich countries and concluded that prosperity may make people selfish. Who is right? How can these contradictory findings be explained? In this chapter, we use framing theory to contextualize the influence of affluence on solidarity. We will do this by using an idea that appears to have been abandoned long ago: climate matters. More than a century ago, the proponents of the so-called geographical school argued that climate matters for all sorts of social phenomena (for an overview, see Sorokin, 1928). They could not explain, however, how climatic effects were brought about, and how they linked up to social circumstances. As a result, their theories were eventually rejected as crackpot ideas. Nevertheless, there is some truth to their original claim, certainly with regard to solidarity. For example, Van de Vliert, Schwartz, Huismans, Hofstede, and Daan (1999) followed up a study on cultural femininity by Hofstede (1998, 2001), and related cultural femininity to thermal climate. Inhabitants of countries with more feminine cultures tend to have more sympathy for the weak, empathize more with others regardless of their group, and feel that the needy should be helped and that immigrants should be integrated. In a similar vein, they prefer to handle conflicts through problem solving and compromise rather than flight or fight (Emans, Laskewitz, and Van de 207

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Vliert, 1994; Rognes, 1994). Van de Vliert et al. (1999) found that feminine cultures flourish more in climatic environments that are cold (e.g., Scandinavia) or hot (e.g., East and West Africa), and that there is a strong positive relationship between climate and affluence (Hofstede, 2001). This, of course, does not explain why wealth sometimes has a positive and sometimes a negative impact on solidarity, but it led us to develop a mechanism that might help us solve the problem.

Framing, Climatic Demands, and Wealth Effects The basic idea of our theory is a combination of framing-based solidarity theory and a climatic demand theory. Together, they are able to explain important effects of private and public wealth on solidarity. The solidarity theory (Lindenberg, 1998 and this volume) states that when people are strongly interdependent in a small face-to-face group they develop strong solidarity within the group and opportunistic behavior between groups. Their normative frame and their gain frame are antagonistic. Behavior toward the out-groups is governed by an unadulterated gain frame (with opportunistic behavior), whereas behavior toward the in-group is governed by a normative frame. Researchers investigating solidary behavior in a society with many such groups and found helping in situations of daily living (in the small circle) and little solidarity across groups. When the interdependence in the small group is weakened and replaced by functional interdependence among individuals from different groups, then strong solidarity gives way to weak solidarity, which extends across groups. The important feature of weak solidarity is that the gain frame and the normative frame are not antagonistic. Gain-seeking behavior toward strangers is tempered by normative concerns, and the latter are tempered by opportunities for gain. Researchers investigating a society with weak solidarity would find much less sacrifice for others in situations of daily living but more emphasis on egalitarianism, tolerance, and respect for strangers. The climatic demand theory focuses on the homeostatic needs of individuals and the influence of climate on the amount of resources needed to meet homeostatic demands. Extreme climates create a demand for resources for dealing with extreme temperatures (hot or cold). People in poor countries with extreme climates use most of their resources to deal with homeostatic problems. This has consequences for solidarity (solidarity in the in-group and gain orientation toward the out-group, making solidarity and pursuit of gain clearly antagonistic). In terms of framing theory, people in rich countries with extreme climates have resources to spare and develop “weak solidarity” across groups, with normative and gain frames being compatible and in

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balance. In the remainder of this section, we will elaborate our integration of climatic demand theory and framing theory; we will then present some empirical evidence.

Climate and Resources Like all warm-blooded species, humans regulate their body temperature within narrow limits. They must obtain and metabolize much food to maintain thermoregulation and health. The day-to-day topicality of these basic physiological needs is apparent from the frequency with which people worry and communicate about thermal discomfort, hunger or thirst, and related purchases. The climate-contingent needs for thermal comfort, nutrition, and health require that humans continuously use, adjust, and organize a variety of elements from their environment, especially in less temperate—colder or hotter—climates. Here, climatic demands refer to behavioral necessities for directly or indirectly coping with climatic cold or heat, while climatic resources refer to physical, technical, or sociopsychological means in the environment to cope with climatic cold or heat.

Climatic Demands Climate-contingent needs for physiological comfort are linked with corresponding behavioral necessities. For fully acclimatized people, the most comfortable outdoor temperature ranges from 17.8˚C (64˚F) to 22.2˚C (72˚F) in Britain (Ambler, 1968), and from 26˚C (78.8˚F) to 28˚C (82.4˚F) in the tropical climates of Nigeria, Calcutta, Singapore, New Guinea, and North Australia (Fanger, 1972). Note that acclimatization has only a marginal effect on the variation of comfortable temperatures around the mean of 22.5˚C (72.5˚F). The above-mentioned figures, therefore, allow the corollary that, on a worldwide scale, environments colder than 20˚C (68˚F) produce more heat loss, constriction of blood vessels, and shivering. Environments hotter than 27˚C (80.6˚F) produce more heat storage, dilation of cutaneous vessels, and sweating. As a result, notwithstanding the acclimatization effect, more extreme ambient temperatures evoke more intense feelings of physiological and psychological discomfort, greater relocation risks, and a stronger need for behavioral interventions (Parsons, 1993). Examples of adaptive behaviors that individual members of a society learn to deem necessary, to believe in, and to strive for are changing activities, putting on or taking off clothing, changing location, using heating or cooling methods, changing jobs or working hours, or buying protective or compensatory devices (e.g., a sauna bath or swimming pool). At the societal level, all such individual-level behavioral

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interventions produce collective demands for different clothing, housing, and working arrangements, and health provisions (for example, against frost bite, pneumonia, asthma, rheumatism, gout, and influenza in cold climates, and malaria, yellow fever, schistosomiasis, trypanosomiasis, ochocerciasis, Chagas’ disease, and filariasis, among others, in hot climates; see Sachs, 2000, p. 32). To balance the high energy costs of keeping warm, cold climates require a higher caloric intake. To compensate for sweating, hotter climates increase the need for water and salt. At the same time, these climates make it more difficult to meet these demands. Food production is lower in cold climates because of reduced solar radiation and frost and snow, even if fish or other forms of wildlife can provide abundant food supplies. In the warmest climates, food is often limited owing to droughts, soil erosion, and rapid food spoilage. After the initial African genesis, human populations achieved flourishing expansion and evolution once they settled in the temperate zones of the earth.

Climatic Resources Societies in more extreme climates, which have to resolve continuously the basic problems of thermal and nutritional discomfort and climate-related illnesses, use available financial means to solve these basic problems as satisfactorily as possible. Although physiological comfort can be achieved through behavioral interventions in and of themselves (e.g., more or less activity in case of cold or heat), comfort is often achieved using resources to cope with cold or heat. Some self-supporting societies, especially in the polar and desert regions, have not yet developed a full-fledged system of shops and markets for trading “homeostatic goods” and still use their creativity to develop housing, clothing, and equipment that effectively protect them. As a rule, however, climatic resources are for sale and have a price; that is, they share financial means as an underlying dimension. Money can buy a wide variety of immovables, conveniences, appliances, recreational facilities, services, practices, and consumables that overcome or mitigate the hardships of climatic cold or heat. Diener, Diener, and Diener (1995) even related national wealth to the fulfillment of basic physiological needs (r = .76, n = 55, p < .001 for the link between wealth and a composite index of need fulfillment). Accordingly, most income is used to enhance fulfillment of the basic physiological needs (housing, clothing, food, and household energy), even if goods and services consumed in the pursuit of income to purchase such homeostatic goods are left out of consideration (e.g., certain fractions of health care, education, and transportation) (Parker, 2000). For a populace living in a less temperate—colder or hotter—climate, income might thus have higher utility and more beneficial


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consequences (for the interactive effects of the possession and evaluation of money see Diener and Oishi [2000]). The findings of a study reported by Van de Vliert, Huang, and Parker (2004) show that this could well be the case. Economic development professionals from each continent who had all traveled extensively in low-income and high-income countries were asked the following question: “Assume that the average income of a German today is indexed at 100. Based on your knowledge, how much would the average person from your country of origin need to earn to be equally happy to the average German? Please base your answer on the index of 100 (e.g., if your country of origin is Germany, your answer must be 100; if the average person would be as happy as the average German by earning less, the answer must be between 0 and 100).” The aggregated ratings demonstrated that a country’s residents do indeed need more income to reach the same crude standard of happiness to the extent that the climate they live in deviates from the comfortable average temperature of 22.5˚C (72.5˚F; r = .65, n = 34 countries, p < .001). In high-income countries, up to 50% of personal income is spent on all conceivable kinds of homeostatic goods. This figure goes up to 90% in low-income countries (Parker, 2000), and in cases of grinding poverty many needs for homeostatic goods cannot be met at all by a majority of the population. In addition, poverty fails to protect people from extreme weather disasters (Triandis, 2000). All in all, it is no wonder that a secondary analysis of 11 datasets by Inkeles (1997) yielded a strongly positive median correlation (r = .55) between the level of national wealth and the aggregated degree of ability to cope, manage, and master. Financial resources are a means of control in general and a means of thermal and nutritional control in particular. In short, no better proxy of the country-level availability of climatic resources and control of physiological comfort exists than national wealth.

Framing If a country is poor (i.e., many people are poor and the country lacks important facilities that help people deal with extreme temperatures) and if the climate is extreme, a large part of private resources is absorbed in people’s basic homeostatic regulation. This is likely to have important consequences for framing. In all likelihood, it will create strongly contrasting “master frames” (Lindenberg, this volume). Because climatic resources are scarce, expectations that people will help each other to meet the homeostatic demands and the demands of daily living are likely to be strong where they are likely to be most relevant: in the small group or in small aspects of daily living across groups. In these situations, the goal to act appropriately is likely to be strongly supported by tradition, public opinion, and personal standards, leading to a salient normative frame and

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clear expectations in the mental model for relationships to which the norms apply (cf. Lindenberg, this volume). By contrast, because resources are scarce, situations to which these norms do not apply are likely to be seen as legitimately open to opportunistic behavior (with a gain frame). For example, stealing from a person who one is not obliged to help may be illegal, but is likely not to be considered immoral. In short, the frames are clearly separated by situation. A person is motivated either normatively or by self-interest. Solidary behavior and gain-oriented behavior are seen as opposites. Weber (1961, p. 261) already observed that, historically, where in-groups were strongly normatively regulated, the behavior toward out-groups was virtually unregulated ethically. If the climate is extreme but the country is rich (i.e., many people are rich and the country has important facilities that help people deal with extreme temperatures), the homeostatic demands can be met with resources to spare. Again, this is likely to have important consequences for framing. As there are resources to spare, there will be less emphasis on helping in the small circle and in daily living. Interdependence within the small group is likely to have given way to “system” interdependence among individuals of different groups, through the very processes that helped to create the wealth in the first place (specialization, contractual relations embedded in rational-legal regulations, infrastructure and welfare provisions by the state, and so forth). The solidarity norms of former times (of helping in the small circle and in daily living) will have changed into the norms of a weak form of solidarity across groups and into norms that are not in opposition to gain but can function as regulatory devices for achieving gain across groups (such as egalitarianism, tolerance, respect for strangers).1 In such “weak” solidarity, the normative and the gain frames keep each other “in check” in the sense that neither is likely to dominate a situation among strangers or acquaintances. This leads to the paradoxical situation that people in poor countries with extreme climates are likely to put more emphasis on help in the small circle and in daily living, but are at the same time less likely to have general altruistic values and behavior across groups than people in comparable rich countries. People in countries with temperate climates are unlikely to have experienced scarcity of homeostatic resources and are thus less likely

1

Of course, situations in which solidarity norms and rules regulating gain are compatible rather than antagonistic develop gradually. In all likelihood, this requires important institutional changes (see Weber, 1961, p. 261ff). In other words, the implicit assumption in solidarity theory is that the wealth of a country is based on changes in its infrastructure and institutions. Thus, the theory should be less applicable to countries whose wealth is based mainly on natural resources (such as oil) without much change in the conditions that reduce the need for strong solidarity and increase the need for weak solidarity.


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to have developed in-groups with strong solidarity norms. For this reason, they are also less likely to have developed traditions of extreme opportunism toward out-groups. Normative and gain frames have not been strongly separated by the scarcity of resources, nor have they come to support each other. These two frames, are, therefore, neither extremely salient nor strongly interdependent. Situations may or may not cause altruistic motivations to be combined with gain motivation, depending on people’s personal circumstances rather than on general conditions of the country as a whole.

Some Empirical Evidence Climatic Conditions and Cultural Femininity As mentioned earlier, studies of cultural femininity provide interesting findings on the relationship between climatic conditions and solidarity. For our theory, the most important findings have to do with the correlation of a culture of femininity (akin to weak solidarity) with climatic conditions. In his by now classic large-scale study of 53 national and regional cultures, Hofstede (1998, 2001) has demonstrated that solidary attitudes and behavior are more prevalent in societies that value gender equality and quality of life rather than caring women versus caring men. Cultural femininity and the concomitant norms of weak solidarity frames flourish in Northern Europe (Norway, Sweden, Finland, Denmark, and the Netherlands) but founder in Japan, in Germanic countries (Germany, Switzerland, and Austria), and in some Latin European and Latin American countries (Italy, Mexico, and Venezuela). More feminine cultures are associated with more sympathy for the weak, empathy regardless of group membership, and readiness to help the needy and integrate immigrants. Conflicts tend to be resolved through problem solving and compromise rather than open aggression or avoidance (Emans et al., 1994; Rognes, 1994). With regard to work, members of more feminine cultures participate more in voluntary associations and activities, and attach more importance to cooperative relations and solidarity with managers and fellow workers in paid work. A follow-up study (Van de Vliert et al., 1999) showed that cultural femininity and weak solidarity thrive in more difficult climatic environments that are closer to the icecaps, on the one hand (e.g., Scandinavia), and closer to the equator, on the other hand (e.g., East and West Africa). This U-shaped climate-femininity relationship is a robust finding that survives when population size and density and the country’s standing in civil liberties and political rights are controlled. In addition, although cultural femininity is not related to geographical latitude in all countries, it is strongly positively linked to latitude in wealthier countries

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(Hofstede, 2001). Taken together, and given that wealthier countries tend to be located in colder climates, this suggests that the curvilinear link between climate and cultural femininity is steeper on the cold side than on the hot side of the U-shaped curve. But the U shape itself is evidence in support of the assumption that weak solidarity thrives when the climate is more demanding and the country is rich.

Altruistic (Weak Solidarity) Values Inspired by Levine et al.’s (2001) prior study, Van de Vliert et al. (2004) constructed a 71-nation index of altruistic values on the basis of available indicators of egalitarian commitment to promoting the welfare of others (Schwartz, 1992, 1994), importance of tolerance and respect for other people (Inglehart, Basañez, and Moreno, 1998), and competitiveness (Lynn, 1991; reversed coding). Each of the three indicators of altruistic values was statistically controlled for collateral components of self-interest before it was integrated into the overall index of selfless concern for others’ interests. This index can be considered to tap norms of weak solidarity. Based on this index, altruism was highest in Sweden, Argentina, Switzerland, and the Netherlands, and lowest in Thailand, Egypt, Jordan, and Indonesia. However, this apparent wealth–altruism link differed across climatic zones (see Figure 13.1). In colder climates, people in rich countries were more altruistic and people in poor countries were less altruistic than were people in countries with temperate 6 4

Altruism

2 High-income 0

−2

Low-income

−4 −6 −4

−2 Cold

0 Temperate

2

4 Hot

FIGURE 13.1. Altruism in countries with cold, temperate, and hot climates, broken down for high- and low-income countries


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climates. Similarly, in hotter climates the tendency for people in rich countries to be more altruistic and for people in poor countries to be less altruistic approximated significance. Controlling for latitude as a proxy of variations in sunlight and day-night cycles and for the country’s surface area, population size, and population density had no noticeable influence. In line with our theory, the research team argued that affluence drives both subjective well-being and altruism. General concern for others can be found especially in rich countries where individual and public means can be used to meet the multiple demands of a cold or hot climate and to pay for a general concern for the welfare of others (egalitarianism, tolerance, respect).

Spontaneous Helping (Strong Solidarity) Our theory predicts that “weak solidarity” is higher in rich countries, especially when the climate is demanding. We have shown above that there is evidence for this claim. However, the theory also states that people in poor countries with demanding climatic conditions place more emphasis on helping in the small group and in daily living than do people in rich countries in such climatic conditions. There is also some evidence pointing in this direction. Levine et al. (2001) conducted a series of field experiments on helping in the “small” aspects of daily living. The field experiments were carried out in large cities in 23 countries in North and South America, Western and Eastern Europe, Africa, and Asia. In each city, the researchers measured spontaneous helping behaviors by pedestrians in three nonemergency situations: helping by assisting a blind person across the street, offering help to a pedestrian with an injured leg trying to pick up a pile of dropped magazines, and alerting a pedestrian who dropped a pen. Overall, helping was most frequent in Brazil, Costa Rica, Malawi, and India, and least in the Netherlands, Singapore, the United States, and Malaysia. Note that the Netherlands came out as the least helpful in the small aspects of daily living, whereas it was one of the highestscoring countries with regard to values of weak solidarity. These crossnational differences in helping could not be explained by means of the general pace of life, but were inversely related to a country’s economic productivity and positively associated with norms that emphasize concern for social obligations. Levine et al. (2001) argued that prosperous countries may require their citizens to pursue personal needs and to ignore, in general, norms that traditionally prescribed helpfulness toward fellow members of society. Our theory gives a very different interpretation to these findings: especially in demanding climates, prosperous countries encourage weak solidarity (with a low level of personal sacrifice but a wide reach across groups), whereas poor

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countries encourage strong solidarity (with a high level of personal sacrifice in the small circle and daily living but with competitiveness or open opportunism across groups). A secondary analysis of these data (Van de Vliert, Huang, and Levine, 2004) revealed that Levine et al. (2001) in fact investigated inhabitants of two distinct groups of countries: a group of high-income countries with predominantly cold climates, and a group of lowincome countries with predominantly hot climates. In the group of poor countries with hot climates, a warmer climate tends to be associated with more helping behavior (rs = .46, n = 12, p < .07). Thus, for poor countries it was found that, as our theory predicts, the more demanding the climate, the more helping in daily life. As expected, the level of helping in the rich/cold group was lower than in the poor/hot group. Here, too, the higher the net climatic demand (i.e., the colder the country in this group), the more likely that people would help in small aspects of daily living (rs = .59, n = 11, p < .05).

Altruistic Motives for Doing Voluntary Work As elaborated above, our theory states that in the case of strong solidarity, normative and gain frames are strictly separated by people and situation. A person is either a friend or group mate to another and does not think of gain in interacting with him or her, or the person is not a friend or group mate to the other person and can unabashedly try to gain as much as possible from the interaction. In short, solidary behavior and gain-oriented behavior are seen as opposites. In weak solidarity, normative and gain frames are compatible. The two frames keep each other from becoming extreme and thus a normative frame functions as a regulatory device in the service of gain. Again, there is some evidence that this is the case. Studies in voluntary work cover only a small part of solidary behavior, but they happen to involve the testing of the compatibility or incompatibility of solidarity and the pursuit of gain and can thus be used as evidence for or against our theory. Working in some way to help others without monetary recompense is a significant social phenomenon with hundreds of millions of participants worldwide (cf. Karr and Meijs, this volume). The most common voluntary activities involve assisting the elderly or handicapped, acting as an aide or assistant to a paid employee, babysitting, fundraising, and serving on committees (Clary and Snyder, 1991, p. 128). Curtis, Grabb, and Baer (1992) reported cross-national differences in working for a variety of voluntary associations, and the World Values Survey (e.g., Inglehart et al., 1998) has mapped cross-national differences in the importance of a number of self-serving and altruistic reasons for doing voluntary work.


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The many national reasons for volunteering recorded reveal that a country can be low in self-serving motives and high in altruistic motives (e.g., China), high in self-serving motives and low in altruistic motives (e.g., West Germany), or low in both (e.g., Denmark and Italy), but that a majority of countries tend to be high in both (e.g., Brazil, Bulgaria, Lithuania, and Nigeria). It should be noted that this country-level observation cannot tell us whether the inhabitants’ normative and gain frames are compatible or not, let alone whether the negative or positive individual-level interdependence between selfserving and altruistic motivations is dependent on characteristics of the national context such as climate and wealth. A further study was designed to focus on these issues (Van de Vliert, Huang, and Levine, 2004). This study included 33 countries whose residents’ reasons for doing unpaid voluntary work had been assessed using the 1990–1993 World Values Survey (n = 13,584 respondents; World Values Study Group, 1994; Inglehart et al., 1998). The study dealt solely with people who did voluntary work and the question was why do they do it? If our theory was correct, then under demanding climatic conditions (hot or cold) in rich countries, voluntary workers would show compatible normative and gain frames; that is, they would show a positive correlation between altruistic and self-serving motivations (weak solidarity). In temperate climates, these motivations would be moderate and unrelated, irrespective of the wealth of the country. Under demanding climatic conditions in poor countries, the expectations were that voluntary workers would be driven solely by a normative frame, that is, they would be motivated solely by altruistic motives (strong solidarity), and that self-serving motivations would not support their altruistic motives, or would even detract from them. The findings were as follows. A gain frame was indicated by selfserving motivations, which were represented by “Time on my hands, wanted something worthwhile to do”; “Purely for personal satisfaction”; “For social reasons, to meet people”; “To gain new skills and useful experience.” A normative frame was indicated by altruistic motivations, which were represented by “A sense of solidarity with the poor and disadvantaged”; “Compassion for those in need”; “Identifying with people who were suffering”; “Religious beliefs”; “To help give disadvantaged people hope and dignity.” A stepwise multilevel analysis was conducted to predict the compatibility or incompatibility of the frames. In step 1, country-level individualism-collectivism was controlled for because this cultural dimension is positively associated with both colder climates and national wealth, and because the collectivism pole of the dimension is an indicator of solidarity with members of in-groups rather than members of society at large (Hofstede, 2001). In steps 2 and 3, the individuallevel motivation to serve one’s own interests was entered (the degree of

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self-serving motivation in step 2, and the cross-national variation in the relationship between self-serving motivation and altruistic motivation in step 3). In step 4 average climatic temperature, temperature-squared, and gross national income per capita were entered. The two-way interactions followed in step 5, and the three-way interactions in step 6. The analysis revealed that cultural individualism-collectivism at the country level does not play a part (step 1), that self-serving motivation at the individual level is positively related to altruistic motivation (step 2), and that the link between self-serving motivation and altruistic motivation varies considerably from one nation to another (step 3). The most important finding, in step 6, showed that while a voluntary worker’s self-serving and altruistic motivations are unrelated in low-income and high-income countries with temperate climates, they tend to be positively linked in high-income countries with cold or hot climates (see Figure 13.2). Moreover, while a voluntary worker’s altruistic motivations tend to be moderate and equally high in lowincome and high-income countries with temperate climates, they tend to be higher in poor countries with cold or hot climates than in rich countries with cold or hot climates. In addition, in poor countries with demanding climates, voluntary workers seem to be motivated solely by altruistic motives. Four general conclusions may be drawn that relate to solidarity frames and solidary behaviors. First, volunteers worldwide are driven by a complex fabric of self-serving and altruistic reasons for doing unpaid work. This conclusion emphasizes the generalizability of the complexity of motivations for doing voluntary work from North America (for overviews, see Clary and Snyder, 1991; Clary et al., 1998; Schroeder, Penner, Dovidio, and Piliavin, 1995) and Germany (Bierhoff, 2001) to other continents and countries. The classic debate of egoistic helping versus altruistic solidarity appears to be oversimplified. Second, a voluntary worker’s self-serving and altruistic motivations tend to be especially positively linked in high-income regions with cold or hot climates (e.g., Scandinavia), and tend to be unrelated in high- and low-income regions with temperate climates (e.g., Southern Europe and the southern part of South America) and in lowincome regions with cold climates (e.g., the Baltic States) or hot climates (e.g., West Africa around the Gulf of Guinea). Third, especially in depressed countries where the climatic demands are maximal and the financial resources minimal, volunteering seems to be driven mainly by altruistic motivation. All these points support expectations generated from our theory. While this is not a conclusive test of our theory, it lends considerable support to our view of the way wealth, climate, and framing interact in bringing forth different kinds of solidary behavior.

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0.5

Cold Climate

Poor

Altruistic Motivation

Altruistic Motivation

Rich Poor

Self-Serving Motivation

Temperate Climate 4.5 3.5 2.5 1.5 0.5 −0.5 −1.5 −2.5 −3.5 −4.5 0.5 −1.5 −0.5 1.5 −0.5

0.5

Hot Climate

1.5

Rich

Poor


4.5 3.5 2.5 1.5 0.5 −0.5 −1.5 −2.5 −3.5 −4.5 −1.5

FIGURE 13.2. Relationship between self-serving and altruistic motivations for doing voluntary work in countries with cold, temperate, and hot climates, broken down for high-income countries (broken lines) and low-income countries (unbroken lines)

Rich


4.5 3.5 2.5 1.5 0.5 −0.5 −1.5 −2.5 −3.5 −4.5 −1.5 Altruistic Motivation

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Conclusion There are contradictory findings about the influence of wealth on solidary behavior. Some researchers have found that people behave more solidarily in rich countries (supposedly because they have money to spare) than in poor countries. Other researchers have found that people help more in situations of daily living in poor countries than in rich countries (supposedly because prosperity makes people more selfish). We showed that when the simultaneous effects of wealth, climatic demands, and framing effects are considered, the puzzle of contradictory findings can largely be solved. The theory we developed can be summarized as follows. Demanding climates create a strong need for private and public resources to deal with the homeostatic needs of individuals. When the country is poor, this enormous need for resources creates strong solidarity in the small circle and in situations of daily living but also selfish and opportunistic behavior across groups. In terms of framing, such situations create incompatibility between normative and gain frames. The people toward whom one’s behavior is solidary (the small circle) are separated from the people toward whom one may act opportunistically (people from out-groups). When such countries become rich, there is less need for the helping hand of the small circle and more need for normative regulation of “system interdependence” (i.e., of behavior among members of society, be they friends or strangers). The solidarity norms, formerly so prominent in the small circle, thus do not vanish but change into norms supporting egalitarianism, tolerance, and respect for strangers. The likely result is that solidarity becomes intertwined with gainful interactions with acquaintances and strangers, and it is thus used as a regulatory means for achieving gain. In this way, normative and gain frames become compatible and are combined in a weak form of solidarity across groups (with values of egalitarianism, tolerance, and respect). People in rich countries with demanding climates seem to show more solidarity in general values and state provisions, whereas people in poor countries with demanding climates seem to show a greater tendency to help in situations of daily living with little altruism across groups. This finding goes a long way toward solving the puzzle of contradictory findings in the literature. Countries in temperate climates have neither the specific climate-driven source of solidarity nor the climate-driven competition for resources. For this reason, both solidarity and self-serving behavior are likely to be more dependent on idiosyncratic circumstances (hence moderate on average) and unrelated. We showed in this chapter that the evidence from studies that allows us to trace the simultaneous effects of wealth and climate supports this theory of solidary behavior at the collective (country) and individual levels.


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References Ambler, H.R. (1968). Thermal comfort in hot and temperate climates. Journal of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene, 71, 294–296. Bierhoff, H.W. (2001). Responsibility and altruism: The role of volunteerism. In A.E. Auhagen and H. W. Bierhoff (Eds.), Responsibility—the many faces of a phenomenon (pp. 149–166). London: Routledge. Clary, E.G., and Snyder, M. (1991). A functional analysis of altruism and prosocial behavior: The case of volunteerism. In M.S. Clark (Ed.), Prosocial behavior (pp. 119–148). Newbury Park, Calif.: Sage. Clary, E.G., Snyder, M., Ridge, R.D., Copeland, J., Stukas, A.A., Haugen, J. et al. (1998). Understanding and assessing the motivations of volunteers: A functional approach. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 74, 1516–1530. Curtis, J.E., Grabb, E.G., and Baer, D.E. (1992). Voluntary association membership in fifteen countries: A comparative analysis. American Sociological Review, 57, 139–152. Diener, E., Diener, M., and Diener, C. (1995). Factors predicting the subjective well-being of nations. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 69, 851–864. Diener, E., and Oishi, S. (2000). Money and happiness: Income and subjective well-being across nations. In E. Diener and E.M. Suh (Eds.), Culture and subjective well-being (pp. 185–218). Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Emans, B., Laskewitz, P., and Van de Vliert, E. (1994). The Netherlands. In M.A. Rahim and A.A. Blum (Eds.), Global perspectives on organizational conflict (pp. 53–66). Westport, Conn.: Praeger. Fanger, P.O. (1972). Near future prospects of the meteorological environment in developing countries in deserts and tropical areas: Improvement of human comfort and resulting efforts in working capacity. Biometeorology, 5, 11. Hofstede, G. (Ed.). (1998). Masculinity and femininity: The taboo dimension of national cultures. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Hofstede, G. (2001). Culture’s consequences: Comparing values, behaviors, institutions, and organizations across cultures. Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Inglehart, R., Basañez, M., and Moreno, A. (1998). Human values and beliefs: A crosscultural sourcebook. Ann Arbor, Mich.: University of Michigan Press. Inkeles, A. (1997). National character: A psycho-social perspective. New Brunswick, N.J.: Transaction Publishers. Levine, R.V., Norenzayan, A., and Philbrick, K. (2001). Cross-cultural differences in helping strangers. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 32, 543–560. Lindenberg, S.M. (1998). Solidarity: Its microfoundations and macro-dependence. A framing approach. In P. Doreian and T.J. Fararo (Eds.), The problem of solidarity: Theories and models (pp. 61–112). Amsterdam: Gordon and Breach. Lynn, R. (1991). The secret of the miracle economy: Different national attitudes to competitiveness and money. Exeter, Eng.: Social Affairs Unit. Parker, P.M. (2000). Physioeconomics: The basis for long-run economic growth. Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Parsons, K.C. (1993). Human thermal environments: The effects of hot, moderate and cold environments on human health, comfort and performance. London: Taylor and Francis. Rognes, J.K. (1994). Norway. In M.A. Rahim and A.A. Blum (Eds.), Global perspectives on organizational conflict (pp. 67–86). Westport, Conn.: Praeger. Sachs, J. (2000). Notes on a new sociology of economic development. In L.E. Harrison and S.P. Huntington (Eds.), Culture matters: How values shape human progress (pp. 29–43). New York: Basic Books. Schroeder, D.A., Penner, L.A., Dovidio, J.F., and Piliavin, J.A. (1995). The psychology of helping and altruism: Problems and puzzles. New York: McGraw-Hill.

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Schwartz, S.H. (1992). Universals in the content and structure of values: Theoretical advances and empirical tests in 20 countries. Advances in Experimental Social Psychology, 25, 1–65. Schwartz, S.H. (1994). Beyond individualism/collectivism: New cultural dimensions of values. In U. Kim, H.C. Triandis, C. Kagitçibasi, S.C. Choi, and G. Yoon (Eds.), Individualism and collectivism: Theory, method, and applications (pp. 85–119). Thousand Oaks, Calif.: Sage. Sorokin, P.A. (1928). Contemporary sociological theories. New York: Harper and Brothers. Triandis, H.C. (2000). Cultural syndromes and subjective well-being. In E. Diener and E.M. Suh (Eds.), Culture and subjective well-being (pp. 13–36). Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press. Van de Vliert, E., Huang, X., and Levine, R.V. (2004). National wealth and thermal climate as predictors of motives for volunteer work. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 35, 62–73. Van de Vliert, E., Huang, X., and Parker, P.M. (2004). Do colder and hotter climates make richer societies more, but poorer societies less, happy and altruistic? Journal of Environmental Psychology, 24, 17–30. Van de Vliert, E., Schwartz, S.H., Huismans, S.E., Hofstede, G., and Daan, S. (1999). Temperature, cultural masculinity and domestic political violence: A cross-national study. Journal of Cross-Cultural Psychology, 30, 291–314. Weber, M. (1961). General economic history. New York: Collier Books. World Values Study Group. (1994). World values survey, 1981–1984 and 1990–1993. Ann Arbor, Mich.: Interuniversity Consortium for Political and Social Research (ICSPR).

CHAPTER 14

How to Explain Prosocial and Solidary Behavior: A Comparison of Framing Theory with Related Meta-Theoretical Paradigms Hans-Werner Bierhoff and Detlef Fetchenhauer

The present book brings together an impressive series of studies of prosocial behavior and solidarity. The compilation is impressive for several reasons. On the one hand, the richness and fruitfulness of research on prosocial behavior is illustrated again and again, touching different fields of research (e.g., developmental psychology, social psychology, personality, organizational psychology, institutional and cultural processes). On the other hand, the contributions are all upto-date summaries of research and theory elaborating basic ideas from the framing perspective, which is represented in this book by Siegwart Lindenberg (Chapter 2). The studies in this book confirm the viability of this approach as a theoretical construct and its potential to organize a vast variety of research under a single theoretical umbrella. In this chapter we will not attempt to summarize the content of the foregoing chapters in detail. Instead, we will contrast the general theoretical framework of this book with other explanations of prosocial and solidary behavior. In particular, we will discuss the meta-theoretical perspectives of neoclassical economics, classical (functionalistic) sociology, psychoanalysis, personality psychology, social psychology, and theories that have been developed within evolutionary biology and evolutionary psychology. First, we briefly recapitulate the basic assumptions of the theoretical framework used in this book (see Lindenberg, Fetchenhauer, Flache, and Buunk, this volume). It is argued that prosocial and solidary behavior is determined by the way a given actor perceives and defines a certain situation. This definition of the situation is assumed to be a function of the mental model of a social relationship (e.g., “Is the other person my friend, enemy, or competitor?”) and the way a situation is framed by an actor. According to Lindenberg (this volume), 225

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there are three general frames that actors might use to cognitively structure a given situation: (1) a hedonic frame in which the most important goal is to satisfy one’s immediate physical desires, (2) a gain frame in which actors aim to maximize their long-term profits irrespective of others, and (3) a normative frame in which actors aim to do what is morally and ethically most appropriate. This subjective definition of a social situation by an actor is influenced by two main factors: attributes of the person (e.g., personality, skills, learning history) and the situation (e.g., the social, institutional, and cultural contexts). One assumption of this model is that the influence of both the personality of the actor and the situation in which he or she is acting is mediated by the subjective definition of the situation. The chapters of the present book try to disentangle these processes with regard to the specific issues that they address. At first glance, these basic ideas may seem uncontroversial. When we discuss the relationship of this theoretical framework with other meta-theoretical paradigms, however, it will become apparent that this first impression is rather superficial, as many social scientists do not subscribe to the basic assumptions of the model.

Utilitarian Explanations of Human Behavior One idea that is in opposition to the theoretical framework of Lindenberg et al. (this volume) is the selfishness assumption of homo oeconomicus as it is used in neoclassical economics, normative game theory, and various versions of rational choice theory. According to rational choice theorists, people in general are basically selfish. As Milgram and Roberts put it, “people will be very sharp in discovering even subtle ways in which they can advance their interests and they will be fundamentally amoral, ignoring rules, breaking agreements, and employing guile, manipulation, and deception if they see personal gain in doing so” (1992, p. 42). Thus, people will only cooperate with others if such cooperation is in their own interest (Hechter, 1987). Deterrence (i.e., the threat of negative sanctions) or material rewards are the only ways to make people refrain from criminal and antisocial behavior (Becker, 1968). For example, a taxpayer will only pay taxes if he or she perceives a high risk of being detected and punished for not doing so. In the terminology of Lindenberg’s framing theory, humans basically always act according to a gain frame. This does not imply that people never help each other or that they never cooperate with others. However, according to rational choice theory, solidary and prosocial behavior can only be observed if such behavior is in the interest of the actor. Many of the empirical findings discussed by Sanders, Flache, Van der Vegt, and Van de Vliert (this volume) are in line with such reasoning. For example, it is at least sometimes found that

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employees show more organizational citizenship behavior the longer they expect to work at their current organization, which can be explained by the assumption that employees rationally weigh future investments and future gains of their current position and only show commitment to their work and toward their colleagues if they expect that such commitment will pay off in the future. In the past two decades, however, a growing number of experiments have been conducted that can be regarded as clearly showing that theories that base their reasoning on the assumption that humans always and under all conditions act totally selfishly must be rejected. To illustrate this point, suppose you, the reader, participate in an experiment and are given $50 by the experimenter. Your task is to divide this money between yourself (Person A) and another subject (Person B). However, you do not know who this other person is and will never get to know her. The experimenter tells you that the other person will be informed about the distribution of the money that you are offering to her. This person then has two options: either she can accept your offer and the money is divided exactly the way you proposed, or she can reject the offer, in which case the money is given back to the experimenter and neither of you gets anything. How much of the money would you keep for yourself and how much would you offer to the other person? If you were Person B in this experiment, what amount of money would Person A have to offer you to make you accept the offer? Now, suppose you participate in a related experiment. Again, you have to divide $50 between yourself and another person. In this case, however, the other person does not have the opportunity to reject your proposal. She is just given what you offer to her. How much would you be willing to give to Person B in such a situation? The two situations described above are called “ultimatum games” and “dictator games,” respectively. The results of empirical studies show that, in ultimatum and dictator games, the offers of Person A are on average approximately 40–50% of the total amount of money that is at stake (for an overview, see Camerer, 2003). In ultimatum games, on average, only offers that are above 25% of the whole amount of money are accepted by Person B (Kahneman, Knetsch, and Thaler, 1987), indicating that people are willing to “sacrifice considerable monetary amounts to punish someone who has been too greedy and that they do so even if it will be of any help for them in the future” (Güth and Tietz, 1990, p. 447). These results are remarkably independent of the amount of money that is to be distributed. In an ultimatum game experiment conducted in Indonesia, only 3 of 37 subjects made offers below 20% though the subjects had to distribute an amount of money that equaled an average salary of 3 months (Cameron, 1999). These and many other studies show that humans are willing to sacrifice their own resources for the sake of fairness and justice, even

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under conditions of unrepeated interactions and total anonymity, if such a behavior is costly, and if they have no material interest in doing so. To translate these results into the terminology of the framing theory by Lindenberg, humans obviously do not always act according to a gain frame, but at least some people under some conditions seem to apply a normative frame when deciding whether or not to act fairly.

Functionalistic Sociology Classical functionalistic theorists within sociology would argue differently from economists and rational choice theorists when explaining prosocial and solidary behavior. The basic assumption of theorists like Parsons (1964) or Durkheim (1902/1997) is that people follow certain social norms (including norms of fairness and solidarity) because they are educated (i.e., socialized) to do so (cf. Bierhoff, 2005). Throughout the process of socialization, people learn that certain normative expectations exist within a given society and culture. If an actor does not follow these normative expectations, he or she has to face certain sanctions and moral condemnation by other members of the society. For example, in a society that is highly influenced by the Catholic Church, it might be forbidden to use contraceptives (like condoms) or to have premarital sex. Disobeying this rule will lead to punishment (e.g., loss of status, exclusion) and to signals of moral outrage. It is important to note that society as a whole exerts power over the behavior of its members not predominantly via external sanctions, but by making people internalize such social norms. Thus, people follow social norms not only because they fear they will be punished otherwise, but also because they would feel guilty if they did not (social psychologists would distinguish these two mechanisms as compliance and commitment). This sketch of functionalistic sociology is surely a caricature rather than a fair description, but it shows that within this meta-theoretical paradigm actors are expected usually to act according to a normative frame in most situations. To put it differently, whereas rational choice theorists tend to neglect and ignore the importance of normative frames, theorists like Parsons (1964) tend to neglect and ignore the importance of gain frames for the explanation of human behavior. This school of thought has consequently been criticized in recent decades because it cannot explain why people follow social norms if it is not in their interest to do so and why people should be willing to bear costs if they have to enforce social norms on others (e.g., Opp, 1989). To some degree, Lindenberg’s framing theory can be regarded as an integration of classical economic and classical sociological reasoning. On the one hand, people act very much in accordance with what


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would be predicted by rational choice theorists if they are in a gain frame. On the other hand, people try to follow societal demands for fairness and ethicality if they are in a normative frame. Personal and social context variables affect the framing process. However, Lindenberg focuses more on the explication of the framing process than on the different ways in which personal and social context variables affect framing. This is exactly where the contribution of the other chapters of the book lies. They flesh out in various ways that framing processes are being influenced by personality and social, cultural, and organizational factors. For example, Karr and Meijs (this volume) show how important management style in volunteer organizations is for the core motivations for volunteering in the organization. In Chapter 10 they focus on organized volunteerism, which they define as “freely chosen, sustained behavior that is of benefit to others, that requires some sacrifice of resources, and that takes place within the context of an organization.” Current theories of volunteerism explain the sustainability of volunteer work either by prosocial norms or by the fulfillment of egoistic motives, or by both. Karr and Meijs (this volume) assume that the maintenance of volunteer work is based on the organization’s approach to volunteers, which influences their motivational processes. They make use of a distinction between “enjoyment based” and “obligation based” intrinsic motivation, which is derived from framing theory. Whereas the former resembles Deci and Ryan’s (1985) concept of intrinsic motivation, the latter is based on social norms of social responsibility. Both are contrasted with external incentives (such as career transfer). Two management styles of volunteer organizations are contrasted: “membership management” and “program management.” Membership management, which is intended to involve members in as many areas as possible, is likely to build on volunteers’ goals. In contrast, program management is aimed at the recruitment of volunteers for the fulfillment of specified tasks where each task is a self-contained unit. Membership management encourages involvement in the organization on the basis of obligationbased intrinsic motivation. In contrast, program management is likely to elicit extrinsic motivation and, in addition, is usually built on appeals of social obligation. Functionalistic sociology has often been used to explain crosscultural differences between different countries. In the present book, two chapters deal explicitly with cross-cultural differences in prosocial and solidary behavior. Fetchenhauer and Wittek (this volume) argue that people in a given society tend to be more honest and exhibit more fair-share behavior the less they have been educated to do so in an authoritarian manner. Interestingly, the cross-national differences that these authors found were not related to the importance of honesty in a given society, but rather to the way its members are educated to be honest and fair.

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Van de Vliert and Lindenberg (this volume) also deal with crosscountry differences in prosocial and solidary behavior. They show that such differences can be explained by the interaction of thermo-climatic conditions and the wealth of different countries. Following theoretical assumptions that may be derived from functionalistic sociology, the authors argue that in rich countries the level of solidarity corresponds to the harshness of climatic conditions. To put it differently, the more a society is in need of prosocial behavior from its inhabitants, the more such behavior occurs. However, the results for poor countries contradict such a functionalistic explanation of cross-national differences in solidarity. In these countries, the level of solidarity seems to be lower the more adverse the climatic conditions are. It seems that, in these countries, people simply cannot afford to act solidarily because they need their resources for their own well-being and survival.

Psychoanalysis None of the contributors to the present book refers explicitly to Freud’s psychoanalysis. Lindenberg’s framing theory, however, shows quite some correspondence with the topological model of the psyche proposed by Freud (1933). According to Freud, the mind is divided into three “mental provinces”: (1) the Id, which is conceived of as “the dark part of our personality” basically oriented toward positive sensations and hedonic pleasure, (2) the Superego, which represents the moral expectations which were expressed by parents in particular and society in general, and (3) the Ego, which can be regarded as a realityoriented instance negotiating and integrating the desires of the Id with the demands of the Superego. It is remarkable that Lindenberg’s three master frames correspond well with the three psychic instances in Freud’s (1933) topological model. Instead of saying that a person is in a hedonic frame, one might also say that he or she follows the dictate of the pleasure principle, which regulates the drives of the Id. In addition, the normative frame and the Superego correspond very well to each other because both imply that the individual is urged to keep to normative and moral prescriptions internalized into conscience. If these prescriptions are violated, anxieties and guilt are elicited. In this vein, Freud considers guilt to be an expression of the tension between Ego and Superego. Finally, the gain frame in Lindenberg’s theory only partially corresponds with the concept of the Ego proposed by Freud (1933). According to Lindenberg (this volume), humans acting within a gain frame tend to be rather immoral and selfish, whereas the Ego in Freud’s theory is regarded as an instance that serves to balance the demands of the Id, on the one hand, and the Superego, on the other hand. But the


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gain frame resembles the Ego in Freud’s topological model because both concepts represent the individual’s orientation toward reality constraints. In summary, the structural correspondence between Freud’s topological model and Lindenberg’s framing theory is quite evident. The common ground of these two theories may be illustrated by the analysis of criminal behavior. Criminals not only harm other people and society as a whole by their unsolidary and antisocial behavior, but they may also harm themselves by giving in to their immediate desires because of their overemphasis on the pleasure principle. Thus, a normative frame that fosters solidary and prosocial behavior is endangered not only by people calculating their own rational selfinterest but also by people who are not able to do what would be the best for themselves and for others (see Veenstra, this volume).

Personality Psychology Prosocial and solidary behavior has long been investigated by personality psychologists. A vast body of evidence shows the importance of personality dispositions for the explanation of prosocial behavior (cf. Bierhoff and Rohmann, 2004; Graziano and Eisenberg, 1997). The prosocial personality, which includes compassion, perspective taking, and social responsibility, predicts the level of prosocial behavior in experimental and field studies. The Big Five personality model (McCrae and Costa, 1999) offers a framework for locating the prosocial personality. As Van der Zee and Perugini (this volume) point out, such a frame is based on high agreeableness as the most important trait of the Big Five personality structure, with its emphasis on sympathy, warmth, and sincerity. In addition, many other personality dispositions have been shown to influence people’s level of solidary behavior (see Van der Zee and Perugini, this volume). Personality is, thus, an influential determinant of prosocial behavior. This fact was more or less ignored by social psychologists in the 1960s and 1970s, when research on prosocial behavior flourished for the first time (cf., Darley and Latané, 1970). In retrospect, such a failure to acknowledge dispositional factors as determinants of prosocial behavior seems puzzling. Early researchers were possibly so impressed by the success of their attempts to show that prosocial behavior is under situational control that they completely missed the role played by personality. This weakness in theorizing is overcome in Lindenberg’s framing theory, which takes into account the combined influence of situational and personality factors, because both are said to exert an influence on the activation of specific frames. For example, altruistic people are likely to frame their interactions in terms of a

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normative frame emphasizing trust and the welfare of others (Van der Zee and Perugini, this volume). Although the importance of a prosocial personality for prosocial behavior has been empirically confirmed, we feel that personality theory does not offer an integrated theoretical framework to explain why this is the case. If it pays to be prosocial, why doesn’t everybody act accordingly? If it pays to be antisocial, the corresponding question emerges. Some personality psychologists have pointed to potential genetic determinants of people’s prosociality, but such analyses do not answer the question why so much individual variance with regard to this personality dimension occurs. One potential answer to this question focuses on the possibility that certain personality dispositions are adaptive in some circumstances but not in others. The contribution by Veenstra (this volume) can be regarded as a step in the direction of analyzing such an interplay between personality and environment. Veenstra deals especially with the structure of prosocial and antisocial personality dispositions and—based on a review of the existing literature—concludes that these dimensions cannot be regarded as different sides of the same coin. Rather, he asserts that some people score either high or low on both dimensions. Furthermore, he shows that children and juveniles may develop prosocial and antisocial personality dispositions partly in response to the opportunity structure in their neighborhoods.

Social Psychology Much research in social psychology on prosocial and solidary behavior had the goal of identifying the situational determinants of helping others who are in need. In many experiments, people were given the opportunity to help others (mostly strangers), and it was observed how such prosocial behavior was influenced by social determinants that were experimentally varied. Based on this research, social psychologists identify a large number of determinants that have been identified as influencing the willingness to help others: the competence and the mood of a potential helper, the number of onlookers, similarity between helper and person in need of help, the attractiveness of the recipient of help, and so forth (for an overview of related research, see Bierhoff, 2002). Besides this fund of knowledge about the determinants of helping behavior, however, a general social psychological theory of prosocial (and antisocial) behavior does not exist. Thus, whereas social psychologists might argue that sociologists’ or rational choice theorists’ assumptions about human behavior are artificial and unrealistic, sociologists might argue that social psychology does not have a general


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theory that is able to predict human behavior in a given situation (as opposed to only explaining it after the fact). One could say that sociologists know much about woods, but not so much about the different trees, whereas social psychologists know many details about different trees, but not so much about woods. Nevertheless, we think that social psychology as a discipline has much to offer with regard to the explanation of human prosocial and antisocial behavior in general and with regard to the framing theory used in this book in particular. Lindenberg argues that an actor’s behavior is influenced by the way a situation is subjectively perceived and that this subjective definition is influenced by specific situational cues. Thus, the theory stresses the importance of situational variables very much in correspondence with social psychological reasoning. For example, the subtitle of a recent textbook on social cognition is How Individuals Construct Social Reality (Bless, Fiedler, and Strack, 2004). A specific example of how Lindenberg’s framing theory might profit from such social-psychological approaches is found in studies of the cognitive structuring of moral situations. Kuczynski (1982, 1983) compared two verbal rationales that are immediately relevant to the gain frame and the normative frame in studies with children: self-oriented rationale and other-oriented rationale. They were used to induce the children to resist a temptation. In this context, the self-oriented rationale pointed to the negative consequences of a transgression for the child, whereas the other-oriented rationale pointed to the negative consequences of a transgression for the experimenter. The other-oriented rationale was more effective in inducing resistance to temptation than the self-oriented rationale. It is likely that the other-oriented rationale triggered a normative frame, whereas the self-oriented rationale triggered a gain frame. More generally, it might be assumed that the activation of a specific frame depends on the cognitive structuring which is used. For example, if a significant other emphasizes compassion and social responsibility as dominant themes in the situation, it is likely that the normative frame will take precedence over the gain frame. In contrast, if significant others encourage a definition of the situation in terms of own advantages and disadvantages, it is more likely that the gain frame will become dominant in the situation. The results reported confirm the assumption that the activation of a specific frame—either a normative or a gain frame— has different consequences for prosocial behavior.

Evolutionary Theory At first glance, cooperative and prosocial behavior appears to be a miracle from an evolutionary perspective. Because reproductive success is bound up with maximizing one’s own resources, it seems maladaptive

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to give voluntarily one’s own resources to other individuals. Therefore, it could be reasoned that evolutionary history rewarded selfishness and should have punished cooperation and altruism, thus steadily decreasing altruistic tendencies in the human (and other) species (Fetchenhauer and Bierhoff, 2004; Sober and Wilson, 1998). Below, we will discuss different theories that have been used by evolutionary biologists and evolutionary psychologists to explain why prosocial behavior is not necessarily maladaptive under all circumstances and we will show how these different theories are related to Lindenberg’s framing theory, on the one hand, and to a number of different chapters of the present book, on the other hand.

Kin Altruism As Hamilton (1964) has shown in his theory of “kin-selection,” it can be adaptive for an organism to share his or her own resources with another individual if this individual is genetically related to the donor because such behavior might help to spread one’s genes more than would pure selfishness. This theory of “inclusive fitness” explains the behavior of species in which some individuals do not have the chance to reproduce themselves (e.g., ants and bees). Hamilton’s argument implies that people should invest more resources in their children (sharing 50% of their genes) than in their nephews (sharing only 25% of their genes) or in nonrelatives (“blood is thicker than water”). The theory of kin altruism was confirmed in many studies of human and nonhuman species (for an overview, see Gaulin and McBurney, 2001). The concept of kin altruism seems to be consistent with Lindenberg’s notion of “strong solidarity,” which implies a concern for the group rather than for oneself and not keeping track of one’s inputs and outcomes within a certain relationship. Humans (and other species) are not able directly to identify the genetic relatedness of other individuals to themselves and thus have to use indicators for deriving inferences about this issue. One valid indicator of genetic relatedness is the degree to which certain persons are similar. Another good indicator is the familiarity of others (if we know a person from his birth the chances are higher that we are genetically related to him than if we got to know him when he was 20). Thus, from evolutionary psychology it can be derived that we are more willing to help a person the more this person is perceived as similar and familiar—a prediction that is very much in line with the empirical results concerning similarity and familiarity (Bierhoff, 2002). The empathy-altruism hypothesis (Batson, 1991) is very popular in social psychology; it states that people benefit another person as an end in itself because they feel empathic concern (i.e., compassion) for


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the needy person. This empathy-altruism hypothesis was confirmed in many experiments (for overviews, see Batson, Van Lange, Ahmad, and Lishner, 2003). As Cialdini, Brown, Lewis, Luce, and Neuberg (1997) have shown, in correspondence with the results of earlier studies, such empathic feelings are strongly determined by perceptions of similarity, familiarity, and common fate with the recipient of help. This line of reasoning may be applied to the results of those studies presented in the present book that deal with diversity in work teams (Van der Zee, this volume; Van der Vegt and Flache, this volume). These researchers focused explicitly on group diversity as a factor that might impair solidary behavior. Van der Zee (this volume) discusses the problems that ethnic heterogeneity poses for solidarity in groups. According to her reasoning, what first appears as a problem can turn out to be an opportunity to overcome intergroup hostilities. By creating a project group, people who participate join in a common endeavor and cooperate with each other. Sherif (1966) already pointed out that cooperative groups tend to foster attraction and sympathy among their members. An important lesson from the findings of Van der Zee (this volume) is that intergroup tensions constitute a threat to solidary behavior in groups (e.g., project groups), but that they may be overcome if the group activates an “engine” that enhances understanding between minority and majority members. This positive potential of project groups that bring together participants from different cultural backgrounds for the reduction of intergroup prejudice was widely overlooked in the past. It is at least partly based on familiarity and perceived common fate, which presumably increase the level of mutual understanding and compassion. Whereas Van der Zee (this volume) is primarily concerned with group diversity, which stems from the different cultural backgrounds of the group members, Van der Vegt and Flache (this volume) point out that group diversity may stem from several sources. For example, it may be based on different demographic characteristics or it may be the result of the necessity to form project groups with members who contribute diverse skills and expertise. Such diversity may result in negative effects, which possibly include the stigmatization and rejection of single group members by the majority. These effects are explained by the increased likelihood of the occurrence of communication problems in heterogeneous groups as well as by intergroup discrimination (cf., Tajfel and Turner, 1986). Studies of intergroup discrimination seem to indicate that group diversity usually leads to intergroup hostility. Research reported by Van der Vegt and Flache (this volume) offers at least some confirmation: group diversity was associated with low levels of helping in work groups characterized by low task interdependence. However, when

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task interdependence was high, diversity was positively related to helping, with higher perceived dissimilarity being associated with higher levels of helping among group members. Additional data indicated that group diversity suppressed helping only under incongruent combinations of task and outcome interdependence (i.e., low-high and high-low combinations were problematic). Van der Vegt and Flache (this volume) point out that these results correspond closely with the framing perspective. Stable solidary frames may foster high levels of prosocial behavior among group members if the need to help each other is especially pressing.

Reciprocal Altruism Many instances of human cooperative behavior cannot be explained by the theory of kin selection because they take place between genetically unrelated people. To explain the fact that humans (and other species such as primates) engage in such behavior, Trivers (1971) developed the theory of reciprocal altruism, stating that individuals will make their own level of cooperativeness toward a certain person dependent on that person’s behavior toward them in the past. As computer simulations have shown (Axelrod, 1984), organisms are able to maximize their own outcomes if they use the Tit-for-Tat strategy. This simple game strategy implies that one reacts to the cooperative behavior of others by behaving cooperatively oneself, and one reacts to the noncooperative behavior of others by behaving uncooperatively oneself. Two further demands of the Tit-for-Tat strategy are also important: (1) always start a relationship with a new interaction partner by behaving cooperatively and (2) do not react to the uncooperative behavior of others by extended retaliation but by acting uncooperatively only once immediately after provocation. For the theory of reciprocal altruism to be valid, humans need to have the ability to identify cheaters by keeping track of their own and others’ inputs and profits from an ongoing exchange relation (Buunk and Schaufeli, 1999; Tooby and Cosmides, 1992). Furthermore, it can be predicted that people have a strong preference for balanced relationships (i.e., relationships in which the ratio of one’s own inputs and outcomes equals that of one’s interaction partners). This assumption was confirmed in many independent studies (for an overview, see Buunk and Schaufeli, 1999). Indeed, the norm of reciprocity is valid in many cultures, constituting a recurring element in human societies all over the world (Komter, 1996; Triandis, 1978). People feel distressed when they get more than they deserve. In addition, they feel angry and a desire for retaliation when they are exploited by others. Gouldner (1960) attributed a relationship-stabilizing


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function to the norm of reciprocity, describing it as an “all-purpose moral cement” (p. 175). It induces people to remain socially indebted to each other over time. Gouldner assumed “that the norm of reciprocity so structures social relations that, between the time of Ego’s provision of gratification and the time of Alter’s repayment, falls the shadow of indebtedness” (p. 174). The concept of reciprocal altruism very much corresponds with Lindenberg’s notion of “weak solidarity.” Actors are not primarily motivated to act on behalf of others, but they are tuned to follow some rules of fairness and equity. When applying the rule of reciprocity in everyday life, an important problem for actors is to determine whether a certain interaction partner is going to reciprocate their own prior concessions or not. As Fetchenhauer and Dunning (this volume) point out, in many situations, being prosocial oneself is only reasonable if one’s interaction partner turns out to be prosocial, too. They argue that, when having to predict the prosociality of others, people follow the “I am more prosocial than average” heuristic, which takes one’s own level of solidarity as an anchor from which a value is subtracted to estimate the degree of others’ solidarity. This approach is quite reasonable in a highly unstructured social situation in which the only available “evidence” of what the other player will do may be derived from observation of one’s own intentions. Flache and Macy (this volume) used the technique of computer simulation to gain new insights into reciprocal altruism. The authors argue in Chapter 3 that, on the basis of the win-stay (reward-approach) lose-change (punishment-avoidance) rule, “reciprocal solidarity may become self-reinforcing in exchange relations.” The effect of perceived generosity may be incorporated into this reinforcement explanation by assuming that it determines the reward value that is experienced after successful cooperation. It might be especially gratifying if a reward occurs as a result of high generosity instead of stinginess. In contrast, the exchange behavior of a partner who is reluctant to share his or her resources may be regarded as disappointing. Reinforcement learning theory explains cooperation by assuming that it is mutually rewarding, whereas framing theory offers the explanation that it is dependent on the activation of the normative frame (instead of the gain frame, which may be operating in the background). Both theoretical approaches come to similar conclusions with respect to the prediction of cooperation, although the presuppositions are quite different. Flache and Macy (this volume) point out that reinforcement learning theory or framing theory are not meant to replace evolution theory. Instead, in Chapter 3 they are said to offer a “microfoundation . . . that is missing in evolutionary approaches.” From an evolutionary point of view, cooperation is feasible if the cost to the helper is less than the reward for the recipient of help. A society that is able to profit from such a maximization of the outcomes of individual efforts is in a good position,

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giving its members a competitive advantage over members of societies that do not take advantage of such a cooperative system. Beyond this general principle, the question arises how cooperation in individual exchange relationships is regulated. On the basis of “middle-range theories” like reinforcement learning theory and framing theory, it is possible to derive more precise predictions in a specific social context. Game-theoretical approaches have long been concerned with the issue of betrayal. One of the first studies of the “temptation to defect” was published by Komorita and Mechling (1967) using the paradigm of the Prisoner’s Dilemma game. Instead of focusing on the building of trust, they focused on how a betrayal shakes trust that has already evolved. The results indicated that the betrayal induced more competition if the loss of the participant was high instead of low. The negative repercussions of a betrayal were especially strong if the temptation of the party who committed the betrayal to defect was high and if the prior history of cooperation was relatively short. Although it is not possible to relate these results directly to everyday exchanges, they are at least suggestive in indicating that high losses after betrayal are especially devastating for the party being betrayed and that the temptation that leads to the actions of the other party exerts some influence on how the betrayed party responds. Buunk and Dijkstra (this volume) consider another, more dramatic example of betrayal: infidelity of a partner in a marital relationship. The “ultimate betrayal” of an extramarital affair occurs frequently in marital relationships, which may be conceptualized as long-lasting prosocial relationships between marriage partners. It makes sense to consider fidelity as prosocial behavior supporting the expectation of solidarity of the partners. Therefore, infidelity might be understood as a violation of specific rules that apply to marital relationships (e.g., to be faithful). Empirical evidence shows that infidelity is a major cause of separation and divorce. Buunk and Dijkstra (this volume) developed an exchange perspective to account for the occurrence of extramarital affairs in marriages. They assert that the meaning of outcomes is changed by extramarital affairs because the uniqueness of the relationship with the marital partner is threatened. As a consequence, the positive value of the rewards produced by the partner is undermined and negative consequences are created (e.g., the feeling of being excluded from the activities of the partner, losing the extra status in the relationship with the partner). In addition, extramarital relationships may elicit feelings of unfairness. Whereas the perception of fairness fosters cooperative relationships, perceived unfairness threatens the viability of a cooperative relationship. It is important to understand that long-term relationships are connected with the development of norms, which make the relationship predictable and enhance its cohesion. Empirical findings show that an extradyadic affair is linked with a high level of anger and disappointment of the long-term partner (feeling betrayed, cheated,


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and unjustly treated). An important factor that contributes to the resistance against the temptation to defect is commitment, which is closely linked with a normative frame and with prosocial behavior. The findings of experimental studies of betrayal and the study of natural couples converge in important aspects, although differences are also apparent. The correspondence of the results of experimental studies of betrayal and studies of the repercussions of extramarital affairs on marriages is quite impressive. It points to the validity of studies using experimental games. In addition, the correspondence shows that highly emotional experiences in marital relationships may be understood on the basis of exchange processes like those investigated in experimental games. The results of artificial laboratory studies of cooperation, temptation to defect, and betrayal may be generalized to fidelity and infidelity in marital relationships. In addition, the differences between game-theoretical studies and the study of infidelity are also remarkable. Especially the behavior of players in experimental games seems to be driven either by cooperative intent, which may be understood as a facet of the normative frame, or by a competitive intent, which represents the gain frame of maximizing one’s own positive consequences. In contrast, the difference in frames between fidelity and infidelity in marital relationships juxtaposes a normative frame (fidelity) with a hedonic frame (infidelity) because infidelity seems to be driven mainly by sexual passion. In correspondence with Lindenberg’s (this volume) theoretical account, studies of marital infidelity illustrate the occurrence of frame switches. A betrayal—either in the context of a marital relationship or in the context of a cooperative relationship—induces a more or less immediate frame switch, which leads to a corresponding reinterpretation of the relationship.

Beyond Kin Altruism and Reciprocal Altruism Most proponents of evolutionary theory would argue that the theories of kin altruism and reciprocal altruism are sufficient to explain human prosociality. However, many studies within experimental economics have shown that human behavior cannot sufficiently be explained within these approaches (Fehr and Fischbacher, 2003; Fetchenhauer and Bierhoff, 2004). As mentioned above, in many situations people show high levels of prosocial behavior even when they participate in unrepeated interactions with genetically unrelated others. However, why should people refrain from exploiting their interaction partners if these interaction partners are not genetically related to them and there is no “shadow of the future” (Axelrod, 1984)? Frank (1988) has offered a theoretical explanation for the fact that people often act cooperatively even in situations where no future interactions are to be expected. The main argument can be summarized as

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follows: if cooperative and prosocially oriented people are able to identify each other they will choose each other as interaction partners and will thus achieve higher outcomes than people who do not have a disposition to behave fairly and cooperatively. However, egoistic and noncooperative people have a strong incentive to appear trustworthy and cooperative in order to exploit the cooperativeness of others. This has two effects: (1) people are strongly motivated to distinguish between those who are really trustworthy and cooperative and those who only pretend to be so, and (2) cooperative and prosocial people have a strong incentive to send valid signals of their trustworthiness that cannot easily be imitated by uncooperative others. According to Frank, the combination of these effects explains why people are able to identify each other’s trustworthiness. Prosocial individuals could survive and have reproductive success because they were able to identify each other as participants in mutual cooperation. However, to appear to be trustworthy, one must act fairly and honestly regardless of the concrete situation in which one is acting because otherwise one’s cooperation would be interpreted as being caused by manipulative intent. As Frank shows, the (reproductive) value of being cooperative or not is to a high degree dependent on the frequency of both strategies in the population. The prediction is that an equilibrium between both strategies emerges, with some people being cooperative and others noncooperative. This theory explains the fact that both strategies can be observed empirically: on the one hand, prosocial behavior with people being willing to sacrifice remarkable amounts of resources for the well-being of others and, on the other hand, selfish and egoistic attempts to exploit others who have a cooperative intent.

Summary and Outlook As mentioned above, our discussion of the contributions to this book was organized not on a chapter-by-chapter basis but with an integrative perspective in mind. Our aim was to suggest commonalities and differences that emerge across the contributions, relate the results to the framing approach, and point to related meta-theoretical approaches in an attempt to put the theoretical approach of Lindenberg (this volume) to solidarity and prosocial behavior in perspective. The conceptual issues on which the research on prosocial behavior presented in this book focused are the following. One basic issue is whether prosocial behavior is consistent across different measures, including measures of antisocial behavior. From the framing perspective, consistency among measures of prosocial behavior is expected, but this is not necessarily the case among measures of prosocial and


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antisocial behavior. Some of the main topics which run through the chapters of this volume include the principle of reciprocity, trust in social relationships, intergroup cooperation, structural factors that mold helpfulness in organizations, including interdependence and embeddedness, and hidden structural determinants of prosocial behavior, which relate to cultural and environmental influences. These topics constitute the main points of the agenda for future research on prosocial behavior and solidarity. This research will hopefully profit from the theory of framing outlined by Lindenberg (this volume) as well as from the other theoretical accounts that were taken into account, especially evolutionary theory. Although gaps between disciplines (e.g., psychology, sociology, biology) are obvious because they focus on different issues and use different methods, they have very much to offer to each other and hopefully will profit a lot in their future advances if interdisciplinary exchange is pursued more thoroughly.

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Index

Page numbers with t and f represent table and figures, respectively.

A

Authoritarian educational goals, 199, 203 relationship of fair-share behavior with, 201–203 Authority ranking, see Categorization of social relationships Authority relationships, see Status relationships

Absenteeism, 148 Acclimatization effect on behavior, 209, 217 Acculturation, 181 Adolescence-limited and life-course persistent antisocial behavior of juveniles, 96–98 Adolescents, 103–104 groups of, 102–103 Agency theory, 144, 147, 149–150 individual behavior in, 144 Agreeableness, 79t, 84 Altruism, 9, 158, 160 Altruistic behavior, 85 Altruistic motivations, 161, 170, 213, 218 for doing voluntary work, 216–220 Altruistic values, 214 Antisocial behavior, 93–94, 102, 198 development related to family characteristics, 96 factors influencing, 94–95 in adolescence, 96–98 studies of relationship with prosocial behavior, 98–99 Anxious attachment index, 119 Approaches to prosocial and solidary behavior, 4–8 Assimilation, see Immigrants in adjusting to new society, strategies adopted by

B Biases, 71 Big Five model of personality, 78–80, 231 Bi-strategic strategies, 100–101 Breach of trust, 111 Bush-Mosteller stochastic learning model, 52 C Career differentiation, effect of, 146 Case illustration of volunteer management styles recruitment, 166–167 retention, 168–169 training, 167–168 Casual extradyadic sex, 113 Categorization of social relationships authority ranking, 10 communal sharing, 10 equality matching, 10 market pricing, 10 Chicken game, 52 Civic virtues, 192

243

244

Climatic demand(s), 209, 220 theory, 208 Climatic resources, 209–210 influence of income, 210–211 Close relationships, 115 Coercive strategies, 100–101 Cognitive abilities, 95 impairment, 94 Cognitive mechanisms approach, 50 avoidance, 50 Cognitive processes, 3, 6 factors influencing, 26 Cognitive-motivational process, 40 Collective identity, 180 performance, 127 Commitment, 118 Comparison level for alternatives, 116 Competing approaches, 47–48 Computational model of learning, 55–56 Condoms, use of, 119 Conflict, 213 Conscientiousness, 79t, 80–83, 88 Considerateness, 9–10 Control systems, see Governance structures, formal Cooperation, 9 Cooperative reciprocity, 47, 57 Cooperativeness, 236, 240 Criminal behavior, analysis of, 231 Cross country differences in fairshare, see Fair-share behavior Cross cultural differences, 175, 228 Islamic culture, 131 western culture, 131 Cultural femininity, 207, 213 latin American countries, 213 north European countries, 213 Cultural individualism-collectivism, role of, 218 Culture, function of, 183 D Degree of autonomy, 167 Degree of prosociality, 69 Degree of solidarity, 11

Index

Demographic characteristics, effects of, 130 Demographic dissimilarity, 133 Dependency, 116 Dictator games, 227 Disciplinary efforts, basic forms of induction, 196–197, 204 love withdrawal, 196 power assertion, 196 Dispositional factors, 119 Diversity and solidarity, 14–15 Divorce, major cause of, 112 Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, 103–105 Dual identity, 179 E Egalitarian commitment, 214, 220 Ego, see Freud’s psychoanalysis Egoistic motivations, 161, 170 Embeddedness of employees, forms of institutional embeddedness, 15, 143, 145, 152 network embeddedness, 15, 143, 147–148, 152 temporal embeddedness, 15, 143, 147, 149–150, 152 Emotional stability, 119 Emotional unfaithfulness, 114 Empathy-altruism hypothesis, 234–235 Employees’ social relationships, 142, 144, 148 English speaking countries, fair-share behavior in, see Fair-share behavior Error management theory (EMT), 68 Ethnic diversity, 178–179, 186 Ethnic identity, 176, 183 importance of, 176 Evolutionary models, 48 Evolutionary theory, 233–234 beyond kin and reciprocal altruism, 239–240 kin altruism, 234–236 reciprocal altruism, 236–239 Extended contact effect, 180 External flexibility, 151 External sanctions, implications of, 191

Index

Extradyadic involvement, degree of, 115 Extradyadic sex, 111–112, 116–118 reproductive benefits of, 113 Extradyadic willingness, 118, 121 Extramarital relationships, 238 Extramarital sexual relationships, 111–113 cross cultural differences, 112 potential benefits from, 113 Extrinsic motivation, 16 Extroversion, 78, 79t, 81 F Fairness, 9, 118; see also Prosocial behavior, kinds of Fair-share behavior, 192 criminality, 195–196 cross country differences, 196–198, 203 economic growth rates, 194–195 educational styles, 196–198 English speaking countries, 201 interpersonal trust, 194–195 in Scandinavian countries, 201 measurement, 192–194 potential predictors, 203 Family characteristics, related to development of prosocial and antisocial behavior, 96 Feedback, 127 Feminine cultures, 183 Fidelity, 14 Firm-specific human capital, 142–143 Framing and learning, 49 Framing predictions, 53–55, 58 Framing processes, 6, 31, 36, 40, 51, 212–213 affect of backgound goals, 38–39 Framing theory, 49–50, 53–54, 58, 77 Framing-based solidarity theory, 208 Free-ride in group efforts, 126, 129 Freud’s psychoanalysis, 230–231 Functional approach to volunteer motivation, 159 career motivations, 159 enhancement motivations, 159 protective motivations, 159 social motivations, 159

245

Functionalistic theory of sociology, 228–230 G Gain frame, see Master frames Gain goals, 37 Gain-seeking behavior, 208, 212 Game theory, 51–52 Game-theoretical approaches, 238 Gini-index, 203 Global competition, 141 Globalizing, 175 Goal framing, 3 theory, 13 Governance structures, 145 characteristics, 145 formal, 145 informal, see Informal governance structures Group culture, influence of, 182 Group diversity, 235 impact of, 178 Group identification, importance of, 177–178 H Habituation, 57–58 destabilizing effects on learning dynamics, 57 Hedonic frame, see Master frames Hedonic goal, 36–37 Helping behavior, 131, 147 Histrionic personality disorder, 119 HIV infection, risk of, 119; see also Unsafe sex Hoffman’s theory of norm internalization, 198 Homeostatic demands, 208, 212 Homeostatic goods, 210–211 Homooeconomicus, assumptions in, 226 Honesty, 194; see also Fair-share behavior Horizontal organizational structures, 141 Hyperactivity and inattention, 94

246

I Id, see Freud’s psychoanalysis Immigrants in adjusting to new society, strategies adopted by assimilation, 179 integration, 179 marginalization, 179 separation, 179 Improvement, kinds of, 34 Income level on solidary behavior, influence of, see Solidary behavior Indicators of an authoritarian/ patriarchal culture democracy, 199 female empowerment, 200 religious tradition, 200 Individual team members, behavior of, 130 Individualism/collectivism, dimensions of, 182 Individuals, behavior of collectivistic cultures, 182 individualistic cultures, 182 Infidelity, 111–112, 115, 238 Influence of background goals, 32–33 Informal governance structures, 146–147 influence of, in work performance, 147 prestige, 147 pride, 147 self-esteem, 147 Informal relations, 149 Institutional embededness, see Embededness of employees, forms of Integration, see Immigrants in adjusting to new society, strategies adopted by Intelligence level, influence of, 94–95 Intercultural traits cultural empathy, 181 emotional stability, 181 flexibility, 181 open-mindedness, 181 social initiative, 181

Index

Interdependence, types of around work inputs, 126 around work outcomes, 126–128, 132, 149, 177–178, 236 Internalization, 35 Interpersonal differences, 125 relationship, 133 trust, see Fair-share behavior Intrinsic motivation, 146, 164–165 theory, 161–162 Invisibility, see Rules for solidarity J Jealousy, cause of of men, 114 of women, 114 Joint effects of interdependence, 131 Joint production of outcomes, 115–116 K Kinds of prosocial behavior, 27; see also Solidary behavior, kinds of Kin-selection, 234 L L’intérêt bien entendu, 159 Learning model and the framing approach, differences in, 58–59 Learning theory, 50, 58 differences with analytical game theory, 50 Lindenberg’s framing theory, 67, 105, 130, 135, 142, 146–147, 149, 152, 191, 198, 207, 226, 228, 230–231, 233, 237, 241 applications of, 144 individual behavior in, 144 Lindenberg’s model, 120 M Machiavellianism, 82 Management behavior on employees, 142 Management simulation study, 131–132

Index

Marginalization, see Immigrants in adjusting to new society, strategies adopted by Margolis’s model, 7 Marital relationship, 111–113, 238–239 mental image of, 116 specific rules of, 111–112 Marriage primacy, see Rules for solidarity Masculinity/femininity, 182–183 Master frames gain frame, 34–35, 37, 39–40, 82, 144, 191, 198, 208, 216–217, 233 hedonic frame, 34, 37, 40–41, 81, 144, 191, 226 normative frame, 35, 37, 40, 80, 144, 191, 198, 208, 216–217, 228, 231, 233, 237, 239 Material self-interest, 195 Mate-switching hypothesis, 113 Mechanistic solidarity, 182 Melioration, 51 Membership management, see Volunteer management styles, theory of Membership techniques, 165 negative aspects of, 165 Mental model of intimate relationship, 14 of relationship, 28–29 of social relationship, 11 relation to behavior, 29 model, subcategory, 28–29 Microelectronic revolution, 141 Misanthropy heuristic, 70 Mission statements of scouting leaders, case examples, 160–161, 163 Monitoring systems, see Governance structures, formal Motivation, three types of enjoyment-based intrinsic motivation, 162, 169, 228 extrinsic motivation, 162, 164, 169 obligation-based intrinsic motivation, 162, 164, 169, 228

247

Multiple motivations, importance of, 161 Mutual prejudice, effect of, 179 Mutual relationship-specific investments, 150 N Narcissism, 119 Narcissistic personality, 82 Negative emotionality, 94 Negative emotional response, 112 Negative reciprocity, 87–88 Negative relational signal, 115 Neoclassical economics, assumptions from, 144 Network embeddedness, see Embeddedness of employees, forms of Neurotic-introverts, 82 Neuroticism, 79t, 81 Noncontrolling strategies, 100–101 Norm of reciprocity, 237 Normative frame, see Master frames Norms guiding a relationship, 116 Numeraire, 31 O Openness to experience, 79t Opportunistic relationship, 11, 27, 115 Organic solidarity, 10 Organizational behavior, 126, 142, 150 commitment, level of, 151 performance, 142 reward system, 158 rules, 142 solidarity, 141–142, 151 volunteers, 157 Organized volunteerism, 157 Outcome interdependence, see Interdependence, types of Overriding goals, 34 P Pair bonding, 113 Paranoid cognitions, 70 Parenting, 96

248

Partner’s extramarital behavior, 115 Peer pressure, influence of, 167 Perceived dissimilarity, 131 Personal project approach, 159–160 Personality and cognitive frames, 80–83, 88–89 and mental models of social relationships, 83–85 characteristics, 77–78, 119 dimensions, 78 psychology, 231–232 Personality factors related to prosocial and antisocial behavior, 94 sex differences, 95–96 Philanthropy heuristic, 70 Positive reciprocity, 87–88 Potential predictors of fair-share behavior economic inequality, 203 economic prosperity, 203 level of urbanization, 203 Power, dimensions of, 182, 184 Priori ordering of the frames, 36 Prisoner’s dilemma (PD), 52 Program management, 163–164; see also Volunteer management styles, theory of advantages of, 164–165 case illustration of, 165–169 disadvantages of, 164 Propinquity, 50 Proselfs, 86 Prosocial behavior, 41, 93–95, 191, 197, 204, 225–226, 228, 230–232, 234, 237–240 and core motivations, 40 and sacrifices, 39 development related to family characteristics, 96 in gain frame, 39, 41 in hedonic frame, 40–41 kinds of, 118 studies of relationship with antisocial behavior, 98–99 Prosocial identity, 160 strategies, 100–101 Prosocials, 86 Prototypes, 28–29

Index

Psychobiological models, 81 Punishment, 50 Q Qualified monogamists, 113 R Rational choice theory, 47 Rationality, 7 Reciprocal solidarity, 45 Reciprocators, 87 negative, 87–88 positive, 87–88 Reciprocity, 45–46, 49, 56, 58 Recruitment of volunteers, see Case illustration of volunteer management styles Reinforcement learning mechanism, 52f, 53, 56 Reinforcement learning theory, 13, 237 Relational identity orientation, 180 Relational signaling, 49 Relationship-specific investments, 150 Remuneration policies, see Governance structures, formal Reproductive cost to female, 114 to male, 114 Respect, 214 Restricted intensity, see Rules for solidarity Rewards, 50, 114, 127–128, 145, 147, 149, 161, 226, 237 collective, 128 individual, 128 performance-related payment, 145–146 Rules for solidarity, 117 S Scandinavian countries, fair-share behavior in, see Fair-share behavior Self esteem, 180, 183; see also Informal governance structures Self-categorization theory, 130 Separation, see Immigrants in adjusting to new society, strategies adopted by

Index

Sexual infidelity, 114 Shortterm mating, see Casual extradyadic sex Situation, role of, 120 Social capital importance of, 195 theory, 194 Social categorization, 177 theory, 176 Social exchange theory, 114–115 Social groups, 175 Social identity, 130 theory, 175, 185 Social incentives, 144 Social networks of employees, influence of, 143 Social psychology, 232–233 Social reference groups, 177 Social relationships of employees, see Employees’ social relationships Social value orientations, 86–87 Socialization, process of, 228 Solidarity and trustworthiness, 66–70 Solidarity relationships strong, 27; see also Strong solidarity weak, 27; see also Weak solidarity Solidarity, 46, 111, 125–126, 131 downsizing, 125 increased information load, 125 interdependence, 125–126 perception of others’, 65–66 reengineering, 125 Solidary behavior, 142–144, 146, 148–150, 152, 175–176, 178, 180, 191, 207, 212, 225–226, 228, 230–232, 235, 240 cross-country differences in, 192 effect of climate, 208, 230 effects of private and public wealth, 208 influence of wealth, 210–211, 218, 230 Solidary behavior, kinds of altruism, 9 considerateness, 9–10 cooperation, 9 fairness, 9 trustworthiness, 9

249

Solidary benefit behavior, 157 Spontaneous helping, 215–216 cross national differences in, 215 Stag Hunt, 53 Stages in a relationship, 114–115 Status relationships, 11, 27 Stochastic collusion, 55–56 Strong solidarity, 10–11, 215–216; see also Spontaneous helping Superego, see Freud’s psychoanalysis Susceptibility to infidelity, see Personality, characteristics T Task interdependence, 127, 129, 131, 135, 177–178, 235–236 influence of, 127 Team commitment, 128–129, 131 Temporal embededness, see Embededness of employees, forms of Theories of self-categorization, 7 Theories of the sustainability of volunteer motivation, 158–161 Theory of goal-framing basic mechanism, 29–30 interaction between background and foreground goals, 32–33 Thorndike’s law of effect, 46, 50 Threat, 183–184 Tit for tat, 48, 236 Tolerance, 214, 220 Trustworthiness, 9, 118, 240; see also Prosocial behavior, kinds of Typical strategies, 100 U Ultimatum games, 227 Uncertainty avoidance, 182 Uniqueness bias, 61 cultural explanation, 64–65 motivational explanation, 62–64 Unsafe sex, 119 V Value motivation, 159 Values for variables and scales used with western industrialized countries, 205

250

Violent jealousy of males, 116 Visibility, see Rules for solidarity Volunteer management styles, theory of, 162–164 case illustration of, 165–169 membership management, 163–165, 170, 228 program management, 163–164, 170, 228 Volunteer motivation, 158, 161, 169, 229

Index

Volunteer retention activities within GSUSA, 168 W Weak solidarity, 11, 237; see also Altruistic values Work team performance, 125–126, 134, 141 Workgroup diversity, 125–126, 129, 131, 235

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