THIRTEEN

ORGANISING IDENTIFICATION

 

In English, the word 'organisation' can refer to the act of organising, to the state of being organised, or to an organised system. Each meaning emphasises activity: process and practices. Organisations are bounded networks of people - distinguished as members from non-members - following co-ordinated procedures: doing things together in inter-related and institutionalised ways. These procedures are specified explicitly or tacitly, formal or informally, in bodies of organisational common knowledge: organisationally-specific symbolic universes, which may be subject to revision or confirmation and are transmitted to members through processes of organisational socialisation. Organisations are also networks of identifications - individually and collectively - which influence strongly who does what within those procedures, and how. These identifications - positions, offices, functions, jobs - are specified informally and formally by and in organisational common knowledge, as are the procedures for allocating or recruiting individuals to them.

            Understood in this way, everything from families to nation-states (and beyond) can be described as organisations. That might suggest that the term is too vague and general to have analytical value. I don't think so, however. First, as discussed in the previous chapter, not all institutions are organisations. Second, not all collectivities are organisations. Categories, for example - collectivities that cannot speak, do not in fact know their own name - are not organisations. Nor are spontaneous collectivities (crowds, audiences, mobs, refugees in flight, and so on). Nor are loosely knit networks of individuals pursuing the same or congruent goals but lacking organised divisions of labour or authority structures (Boissevain 1968; Mayer 1966; Wellman 1999). The word 'organisation' covers most collectivities, but not all.

In terms of identities, organisations are constituted simultaneously in a distinction between members and non-members, on the one hand, and in an internal network of differentiation among members, on the other. An organisation without internal differentiation doesn't make much sense: organisation is the harnessing and orchestration, under a symbolic umbrella, of difference. Thus between the members of any organisation there is a relationship of similarity and a range of relationships of difference.

            If organisations were only concerned with their own internal affairs they would be of limited sociological interest. However, organisational members rarely live their lives all day and every day wholly within the organisation: the 'total institution' (Goffman 1968) is the exception rather than the rule. Nor are most people members of only one organisation. Furthermore, an organisation's raison d'être is the co-ordination of the activities of a plurality of individuals - not all of whom will necessarily be members - in collective pursuit of some specified purpose. This defining purpose is the organisational charter; it is what calls it into existence, another, and hugely important, part of the common knowledge of the organisationally specific symbolic universe. An organisation's purposes are rarely, however, purely or even mainly internal: they are typically oriented towards and located in the wider, external human world. Organisations are open to and part of their environments. So much so that their boundaries may be permeable and osmotic; it isn't always easy to see where they are drawn.

            Another defining feature of organisations requires emphasis: without relations of authority (or, indeed, power), the successful co-ordination of activities would be impossible. Some subordination to others is the reciprocal precondition of individual autonomy, in the same way that similarity is the precondition of difference and rules create deviance. Organisations - small or large - are institutionalised networks of hierarchical relationships, of sub- and superordination, of power and authority. Organisational collectivity is, in fact, the source of the legitimacy without which authority carries no weight.

            For the purposes of this discussion, I will concentrate on two aspects of organisations1:

 

·        first, the ways in which individuals become identified as organisational members (and as particular organisational members), and

·        second, the ways in which organisations influence the identification of non-members.

 

Surveying the historical, local, and institutional variety of either, let alone both, would be a task more appropriate to an encyclopaedia. Instead, in order to illustrate the range of possibilities, I shall discuss a limited selection of procedural types or cases with respect to each, as examples of general organisational processes. I will also discuss the consequential nature of organisational identification with respect to the lives of individuals and the production and reproduction of patterns of differentiation: hierarchy, stratification, inclusion and exclusion, etc. In this chapter I focus on organisations and their members; in the next, on their impact on non-members.

 

Recruitment

Without personnel renewal and replacement, the life span of any organisation could be no longer than that of its most long-lived individual member. Since a characteristic of organisations is that they can persist despite routine attrition of personnel, procedures for recruiting replacement members are vital. There are two basic trajectories of organisational membership.

In the first, the qualifying criteria of recruitment are 'givens' such as parentage, age and position in the life-course, gender, etc. Identifications of this kind are intersubjectively constructed - typically in terms of embodiment and folk notions of biology - as basic, natural, or primordial. They are also typically collective: they identify the individual as a member of a group or category. They are understood as aspects of the individual for which she has little or no responsibility, and over which she has little or no control. Although in any specific situation the possibilities may exist of a renunciation of membership by a candidate, a refusal to recognise a candidate, or her subsequent expulsion, organisational membership of this kind is generally taken-for-granted, even if not inevitable. If my sister wants to join the Women's Institute, for example, her age and gender render her unproblematically eligible.

            In the second trajectory, criteria of membership may be many and varied, but membership is not entailed in pre-existent characteristics. It is also much more a matter concerning the individual as an individual. Membership is, therefore, always to some degree uncertain and must typically be sought and endorsed: it is a matter of negotiation at the organisational boundary, and more or less competitive. However, in neither case is the presence or absence of self-determination and choice a defining feature. Both trajectories can involve involuntary or imposed organisational membership.

            These two routes into organisational membership may be characterised thus: in the first an individual is a member or a prospective member by virtue of who she is, in the second by virtue of what she is. Often seen, erroneously, as a contrast between 'traditional' and 'modern' modes of identity, this has much in common with the distinction between ascribed and achieved statuses drawn by Linton (1936) in his original formulation of status and role2. Ascribed identification is constructed on the basis of the contingencies of birth. Achieved - or, to adopt Merton's subsequent, more accurate terminology, acquired (1957: 382) - identifications are assumed during the subsequent life course, and are generally, although not necessarily, the outcome of a degree of self-direction. This general distinction between the ascribed and the acquired isn't specific to organisational identifications; it can in principle, be applied to all identities.

            The key distinction informing my model of identification, between the internal and external moments of the dialectic of identification, is heuristic, presented as an opposition for explanatory purposes. Much the same is true of ascription and achievement/acquisition. In everyday life the difference between them is likely to be at most a matter of emphasis. Organisational membership, no less than any other identity, is thus a particular combination of the acquired and the ascribed. The ins-and-outs of biography conspire to ensure that who I am and what I am are not easily disentangled.

This can be taken a little further. Primary identities such as gender, rooted in very early experience, are massively implicated in the embodied point of view of selfhood. Following Linton and Merton, they are ascribed identities and potentially criteria of organisational membership. But they are also - qua selfhood - important influences on the self-direction that is so influential in the achievement of identities. However, the purposeful acquisition of achieved organisational identification depends upon more than unilateral self-determination. Most significantly, it involves negotiation and transaction with others - organisational gatekeepers of one kind or another - who are in a position to recruit individuals to the organisation or to exclude them, and to decide to which organisational positions individuals will be recruited. In making their choices, gatekeepers will frequently have recourse to (ascriptive) criteria such as gender or age.

Where acquired organisational identities are imposed on non-members - such as selection for conscription or imprisonment - ascriptive criteria are likely to be particularly influential. Imposition can have many consequences, including:

 

·        no apparent reaction;

·        internalisation;

·        reluctant acceptance as legitimate;

·        resentful endurance; and

·        overt resistance.

 

However, as long as categorisation is recognised - seen, heard, understood - by those upon whom it is visited, or produces real consequences in their lives, it is never a question of imposition only. Whatever it might be, there is always a response: there is always the dialectic between internal and external identification.

            Indeed, all the above scenarios can be understood with reference to an internal-external dialectic of identification, albeit with different emphases in each case. In each there is a relationship of mutual signification between the ascribed and the achieved or acquired. Even so, a loose analytical distinction between ascribed and acquired identities continues to make sense, particularly, perhaps, with respect to organisational identification. They differ - as Nadel, for example, seems to have appreciated (1957: 36-41) - in the manner in which individuals enter into them, or take them on.

With respect to organisations, this difference is largely, although not only, procedural. Recruitment to organisational identities where the emphasis falls upon ascription is a matter of affirmation. Although membership is immanent, it must be publicly confirmed, registered, solemnised, consecrated, or whatever. Recruitment to organisational identities that are achieved or acquired is, however, a matter of rationalisation (cf. Collinson et al., 1990: 110ff.). Membership must be justified; reasons have to be offered. Affirmation and rationalisation reflect different sources or kinds of legitimate authority. In Weber's terms (1978: 212-41), affirmation is rooted in traditional understandings of legitimacy, and rationalisation - unsurprisingly - in rational-legal legitimacy.

 

Affirmation

Affirmation takes many forms. The Christian ritual of confirmation or First Communion, in which the young person is received into full membership of the Church, is one example. The Jewish Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah rituals also come to mind (Mars 1990). And there are options other than the strictly religious: many societies around the world could be drawn upon to provide examples of life-course rituals in which young people are initiated into organised age-sets of one kind or another (Bernardi 1985; La Fontaine 1985). Coming of age ceremonies often touch upon more than the membership of specific organisations: 'These rites of initiation transform individuals by investing them with socialness' (Cohen 1994: 57). It may be nothing less than full membership of the collectivity in question that is at issue (see Richards [1956] for one of the classic anthropological accounts). Although the ritual dimensions of coming of age have atrophied in the industrialised societies of modernity, they can still be found, for example, in the notion of the 'key to the door', or in the informal humiliations that often attend the 'last night of freedom' of brides- and grooms-to-be.

            More obviously organisational memberships can also depend primarily on the ascription of 'who you are'. In Northern Ireland, for example, membership of the Orange Lodge depends upon as many as three ascriptive criteria: being protestant, being male, and, apropos which Lodge one joins, family (Bryan 2000: 105-11; Harris 1972: 163, 192-4). And if we recognise that the family is an informal organisation - or even, in the bureaucratised modern state, a formal organisation - then the rite of baptism, for example, is inter alia a public affirmation of the full organisational membership of a new infant.

            Common to all of the above is a transition from immanent membership to actual membership - literally, confirmation - and an element of ritualised initiation. These are important aspects of 'rites of passage', a general category of ritual first identified by van Gennep (1965) nearly a century ago. Building on his ideas, there is now a relatively settled consensus that humans experience life as a series of transitions from one identity to another, that these transitions are ritualised to a greater or lesser extent, and that the transitions have an approximately tripartite form (Leach 1976: 77-9; Morris 1987: 246-63). That form is not a structural universal, it simply makes sense logically and situationally: first separation from the present state or identity; then transition or liminality (a state of limbo which may draw upon a symbolic repertoire relating to death); then finally incorporation into, or aggregation with, the new state or identity (which may use birth as a metaphor). In ritual, these phases may be represented spatially; they always have a temporal sequence, one after the other. A processual structure of this broad kind appears in all explicit and organisationally marked identity transitions.

            Rites of passage and the internal-external dialectic of identification have a bearing on each other. The enhancement of experience which ritual offers, cognitively and particularly emotionally, plays an important role in the internalisation of identification. To say this is, in most significant respects, to agree with Durkheim about the power of ritualised communion. Ritual can invest the symbols of organisational membership - flags, uniforms, logos, songs - with an affective weight that transcends occasion or ceremony. It is likely to be of particular moment in generating individual internal identification with the external collectivity: making the recruit feel that she belongs and is part of the greater organisational whole. It may also distance her from previous identities. Even the formal pattern of separation, transition and incorporation is amenable to interpretation in this light: separation weakens existing internal self-identification(s); during transition the new identity is introduced 'from outside' and dramatised; incorporation affirms and strengthens the new identification.

            Victor Turner (1974: 119ff), inspired by the theologian Martin Buber, understood that although the 'we' of collective identification is enormously powerful, it is always fragile and contingent, always vulnerable to subversion. In my terms, it is imagined but not imaginary. Among other things, this reflects a contradiction between the egalitarian inclusivity of 'us' and the internal hierarchical differentiation of an organisational division of labour. Similarity and difference play against rather than with each other in organisations. Hence the organisational importance of rituals of identification. While these are generally significant as occasions for acting out and practically participating in the symbolisation of identity, they are particularly momentous in combining an affirmation and re-affirmation of what Turner calls communitas - undifferentiated 'we-ness', if you like - with a recognition and legitimation of internal organisational structure.

            Ritualised affirmation of ascriptive identity isn't only a matter of individual membership or affective affirmation however, nor is it confined to initiation or recruitment. Ritual also plays an important part in the creation and communication of organisational common knowledge, in the interests of co-ordination:

 

'A public ritual is not just about the transmission of meaning from a central source to each member of an audience; it is also about letting audience members know what other audience members know.' (Chwe 2001: 4)

 

In addition to rites of passage, there are many other ritual occasions that organise, orchestrate and reaffirm collective identifications.  Public pageantry offers many obvious examples of rituals of communal affirmation. From the theatrical set-pieces of modern state ceremonial (Handelman 1998: 191-233; Lane 1981), to the more modest ceremonial of 'traditional' states (Cannadine and Price 1987; Gluckman 1963: 110-36), to the parades of the 'marching season' in Northern Ireland (Bell 1990; Bryan 2000; Jarman 1997), the theme is similar: the public reaffirmation and consecration of ascriptive collective identification. Similar themes can be discerned in more secular rituals (Moore and Meyerhoff 1977) such as carnivals (Cohen 1980; ) or beauty contests (Wilk 1993). Organised collective identities which claim to be more than merely 'socially constructed' are also likely - for both internal and external consumption - to use ritualised public ceremonial to affirm and symbolise their a-historical essence. Examples of this include the characteristic and inevitable carnivals of national identity, and festivals such as the gay and lesbian Mardi Gras in Sydney, Australia.

            As well as being an analytical category, class is an ascriptive identity of sorts. Class is equated in common sense with 'background', referring to family of origin, and often with 'breeding' too. A sophisticated version of this is the argument - with which the Eugenics movement, for example, identified itself - that class differences reflect differential genetic endowments; a view that probably persists more widely than we know. A mirror image of this, glorifying the essential nobility of working people, can be seen in Soviet socialist realist public art. Ceremonial or ritualised (re)affirmations of class identities are easy to exemplify: on the one hand, the, sadly, declining spectacles of May Day marches of international workers' solidarity and British Miners Galas; on the other, Oxbridge May Balls and the numerous set-pieces of upper-class 'Society'. It is no accident that the middle class(es) - often in upwardly mobile flight from their 'background', and generally thanks to achievement - appear less keen to affirm publicly the supposed essence of their identity.

            So, with respect to ascriptive identifications such as family, age, ethnicity, gender, and even class, ritual (re)affirmation is of considerable significance. It may actually be fundamental: identity - as a definitively interactional construct - can never be essential or primordial, so it has to be made to seem so. We have to be made to feel 'we'. And collectivities, as discussed in earlier chapters, are not embodied in quite the way that individuals are. In addition, the potential tension between ascriptive inclusion (similarity) and hierarchy (difference) should be born in mind. These difficulties are all addressed when the power of symbol and ritual is brought to bear. Organised collective identity is endowed, via collective ritual and 'communitas', with personal authenticity and experiential profundity. It is also given shape in common knowledge. Inasmuch as public ritual is performative, it is a powerful and visible embodiment of the abstraction of collective identity (cf. Connerton 1989: 41-71). Rituals gather together enough members for embodied collectivity to be 'socially real'. The individual - whether participating as an individual or as 'one of the crowd' - is included in the organised collectivity in the most potent fashion. Individual diversity finds a place within symbolised unity. The imagined ceases to be imaginary.

             Ascription is, however, as much a principle of exclusion as inclusion; it encourages expulsion as well as recruitment. The refusal to admit women, Jews, and black people - and these are only the most obvious cases - to membership of exclusive clubs is one such situation. More consequential are the less thoroughgoing but nonetheless significant discriminations that operate in the labour and education markets of a country such as Britain. At its most comprehensive, ascriptive exclusion can plumb the depths reached by regimes of slavery, by the Republic of South Africa during apartheid, or by the racialised state created in Nazi Germany.

 

Rationalisation

The argument is now approaching situations in which important elements of rationalisation figure. The point that ascription and achievement/acquisition are not easy to disentangle in everyday life can be made in many ways. Ascriptive exclusion may, for example, define the arena within which the principle of competition comes into play in recruitment. A club may not admit women, Jews or black people, but that doesn't mean that any white male can join. The choice of which white males is a matter for rationalisation, even if only at the level of procedural correctness. Ascriptive inclusion - the organisational boundary - may delineate the space within which internal position and office are competitively achieved. And there are subtler possibilities. An employer who would rather not hire black employees is not committed to hiring whites regardless of their capacity to do the job in question. But nor, in the absence of a white person fitting the bill, is she totally constrained from hiring a black worker. Rationalisation permits both options.

            These examples illustrate the interaction of selection criteria of 'acceptability' and 'suitability' (Jenkins 1983: 100-28; 1986: 46-79). In competitive organisational recruitment, ascriptive criteria - 'who you are' - are most likely to influence the identification of acceptability, which can be broadly defined as whether or not an individual will 'fit in' to the networks and relationships of the organisation, or be the right 'kind of person' in general. Suitability, however, emphasises achieved or acquired characteristics relating to 'what you are'. This is typically a matter of competence. It can also be, however, in voluntary organisations for example, a question of interests or attitudes. Suitability is more an issue when a particular organisational position, rather than just membership (or a broad category of membership), is at stake. Notions of suitability are definitively involved in employment recruitment, for example, but are less likely to influence recruitment to club membership. Where both criteria are influential, permutations are possible: individuals may be suitable but unacceptable, or vice versa.

            The distinction between suitability and acceptability is rarely clear-cut. Being identified as the most suitable person for an organisational position guarantee doesn't your recruitment to it. 'Whether your face fits' may contribute to colleaguely relations and, hence, to fulfilling the organisational charter. So is it a kind of competence? Suitability can't always be easily specified; there may be a number of equally suitable candidates; the threshold of suitability may be low. In situations such as these, questions of acceptability - now concerning the individual and the idiosyncratic, rather than the categorical - may once again become influential. And both suitability and acceptability offer a basis for competitive recruitment. There is no straightforward equivalence between the ascribed and the acceptable, or the acquired and the suitable. It is possible to argue that gender, for example, is sometimes a legitimate criterion of suitability. And acceptability can depend on factors such as marital or domestic situation, or attitudes to abortion or nuclear disarmament (or whatever), which are unlikely to be a matter of ascription. And so on.

            There may be no straightforward equivalences, but there is a modern discourse that emphasises opportunity, achievement and access, particularly with respect to economic activity and benefits. Or there are, rather, two related modern discourses: of meritocracy and of equality. The two do not always make happy partners - the idea of meritocracy, for example, owes a frequently unacknowledged debt to notions of 'liberty' which isn't readily compatible with equality - but they come together in the western democracies in the political project of equality of opportunity (Paul et al. 1987). This is relevant here because of its emphasis upon access for all to fair competitive organisational recruitment. From the point of view of the promotion of equality of opportunity, ascriptive criteria or criteria of acceptability require special justification.

            And here we can begin to appreciate the sociological importance of the organisation of identification, for the production and reproduction of large-scale patterns of differentiation and stratification. Ascriptive identities are not only collective; they are intersubjectively widely recognised. Significant numbers of people agree on the nominal boundaries of male and female, black and white, etc. The understandings of 'us' and 'them' across those boundaries - the virtual identifications - are less consensual; it depends on point of view. But the basic outlines, the scaffolding around which virtual identification - played out in the history of consequences - is constructed, will typically be relatively clear.

             In this sense, ascription may be widely understood as the 'inevitable' result of 'natural differences': it isn't, however, innocent of self-interest or competition for collective advantage. It informs widespread processes of categorisation: the defining of others in the external moment of the dialectic of identification. Among those processes is recruitment into organisations. Organisational membership in any context is therefore likely to reflect local ascriptive categories of identification. We know that this is often the case. At least two, analytically distinct, organisational processes produce this situation.

            In the first, people organise themselves in terms of ascription: this organisation is for 'us', with 'us' understood in a particular way. The organisational charter defines membership: Poppleton Working Men's Club, the Eastend Punjabi Youth Association, Old Sarum University Women's Society, Boyne Square Protestant Defenders Flute Band, and so on. Organisation along these ascriptive lines is a potent political and economic resource. Among its advantages are an ideology of natural or primordial community and loyalty, the symbolisation and valorisation of identity, comradeship and mutual support, pooled resources, the organisation of collective action, and the creation of opportunities - jobs or whatever - for members.

            In the second, the organisational charter does not define membership in ascriptive terms. It may in fact evince a commitment to competitive, achievement-based membership. However, those who are in a position to recruit or reject prospective members may draw upon ascriptive criteria in their decision-making. For example, a manager may refuse to employ men as production workers in a factory assembling electrical components, because he 'knows' that women are more dextrous and don't want to work full-time, and that men can't tolerate the boredom. As a result of this managerial categorisation, the factory employs only women in the majority of jobs. If there is consistency in the common knowledge of managers in general - some participation in a shared symbolic universe - then their recruitment decisions will draw upon similar typifications and stereotypes, and will contribute to the production of a wider pattern in which women are disproportionately represented in part-time, semi-skilled assembly work.

            Reflecting consistencies in their recruitment, careers, and the constraints within which they work, managers are likely to have identification, experience and knowledge in common: class background, 'race', gender, politics, orientation towards business, organisational and professional socialisation, etc. That they should behave similarly in similar circumstances is not remarkable. The process may be even more avowedly exclusionary than the example given: racism and sexism, for example remain potent forces in recruitment (Collinson et al 1990; Jenkins 1986). Organisations - and although I have focussed on employing organisations, discrimination operates in many other areas - may be nominally open to all but virtually closed to many categories of the population, excluded on the basis of ascription.

            People join - or attempt to join - organisations for many reasons: to validate an existing self-identification, to change it, or for other reasons more idiosyncratic. This applies in employment and across the spectrum of politics, education and leisure activities. Distinctions between identity and other aspects of the person (whatever that means) are difficult to maintain. Does someone become a hunt saboteur because she is opposed to cruelty to foxes, because she likes the image of herself as a 'sab', because 'that'll really make my mother mad', because she can't stand 'upper-class pratts on horses', or because she fancies 'that bloke with the dreads'? It is not easy to know. But it all contributes to identification.

            People also form organisations as vehicles for their identity projects. This has already been suggested in the case of ascription; it is no less true for acquired identities. The organisational charter may refer to facilitating and improving the wider public understanding of train-spotting, or sado-masochism, or whatever, but that cannot be divorced from the train-spotters or sado-masochists who are the members, and their cause(s). And many of the advantages that accrue in the case of organisations based on ascription - support, symbolisation, pooled resources, co-ordinated action - apply equally to organisations oriented around acquired identities.

            Whether emphasising ascription or acquisition, membership in different organisations has different consequences for individual identification. Scarcity is an obvious factor. Joining the Mickey Mouse Club, where the only qualification for membership is a small fee sent through the mail, is clearly less significant than finally, the day after your ninth birthday, having made yourself a pain in the neck for the last few months, being initiated as only the fifth member of your big brother's gang. And exclusivity isn't just a matter of competitive scarcity: the membership criteria matter, too (hence the power of ascription). In ascriptive theory, at least, you can only be in or out. The boundary between 'in' and 'out', dramatised as it often is by ritual, may also be the threshold between the sacred and the profane. On one side purity, on the other danger (Douglas 1966). Certainly other factors contribute to the strength of particular organisational identifications - the effectiveness of initiation (and, indeed, its affectiveness), external pressures on the group, the penalties attached to leaving, and so on - but the importance of exclusivity shouldn't be underestimated.

            Whatever the context, in competitive recruitment a degree of rationalisation is called for. This can be a matter of reasons, or a matter of procedure, or both. The question of reasons has already been discussed: is someone acceptable? are they suitable? These are reasons. Procedures may not be easily separable from reasons, however. Sometimes procedural correctness provides sufficient legitimation for the outcome. That the proper procedure has been followed is reason enough.

            A good example here is the ordeal, a category of ritual which figures in a variety of organisational initiations: from the theatrical pretension of the Masonic rite, to the violence of a motorcycle gang, to the psycho-sexual emotional trials of some New Guinean peoples, to the torment often visited on new recruits to the military. In the ordeal, survival rationalises recruitment. As ritual, it dramatises and authenticates the achievement of membership, both for the recruit and for her new colleagues. In this sense it contributes to both internal and external identification. The other major context in which the ordeal figures historically - determination of guilt or innocence in the face of accusation3 - also has serious implications for membership. An unfavourable outcome to a judgmental ordeal may result in expulsion from membership; recruitment may depend - and here we are back to initiation - upon satisfactory reputation or character.

            More characteristic of modern organisational recruitment, however, is the interview and its associated screening procedures (which may also be experienced as an ordeal). Interviewing is rooted in the informally institutionalised or ritualised human world of Goffman's interaction order: one or more people talk to another person - this is a definitively oral interactional form - in order to find out sufficient about her to decide about her recruitment (or, indeed, whatever fate is in question). However, the organised interview has arguably become the generic form of bureaucratic interactional encounter. Its only rival is the committee (and the two are, of course, combined in the board or panel).

            The bureaucratic interview has a number of characteristic features (see Jenkins 1986: 128-9, for more extended discussion):

 

·        There are always two sides, interviewer(s) and interviewee(s).

·        There is a situational hierarchy. One side - the interviewer - is typically in charge of the procedure and of the determination of outcomes. This hierarchy derives from the interviewer's organisational position  (particularly her control over resources), and, although not always, from her possession of the legitimate competences to carry off interviewing authoritatively.

·        The business of the interview is the allocation of resources or penalties to the interviewee. The legitimacy of that allocation is grounded in adherence to more or less formally constituted procedures and in the reasons which inform the decision-making.

·        However, the interview is not necessarily about decision-making on the spot. It may, for example, be about the ex post facto justification or rationalisation of decision-making that has already taken place (Silverman and Jones 1976); alternatively, it may send recommendations on elsewhere.

·        Finally, interviews are generally private. The protection of privacy is extended as much - indeed more - to interviewer(s) as to interviewee: decisions can be made without the scrutiny of an audience.

 

The ordeal, by contrast, is typically a public or semi-public event, which requires an audience for its legitimacy.

            The ordeal and the interview are not the only forms of rationalisation: recruitment by election, by nomination, or by lottery can be important too, drawing on legitimatory rhetorics of democracy, authority and chance. And rationalisation does not preclude affirmation. Once an individual's recruitment to an organisation has been rationalised, nothing prevents that decision being subsequently ceremonially affirmed. There is every reason for doing so, if the arguments about the affective power of ritual, and its role in organisational common knowledge, are correct. Rationalised membership needs authenticity too.

            Existing members can also have their membership re-affirmed and re-authenticated. A good example is the 'team-building' which figures in staff development programmes in many employing organisations in industrial societies. One common model is the 'residential': staff are taken away from work and home to spend a few days 'out of time', engaging together in a range of activities - from outdoor pursuits, to intensive group work, to equally intense socialising - after which they return home, ideally somewhat transformed (otherwise what's the point?). Separation, limbo, and (re)incorporation: the rite of passage analogy is irresistible.

 

These are some, but only some, of the ways in which organisations affect the identities of their members. Organisations are, first and foremost, groups. As we proceed through life, our organisational memberships make a significant contribution to the diversity of the expanding portfolios that are our individual identities: who we are. The internal-external dialectic of identification can be seen at work not only between members, but also between members and non-members. Organisations are constituted in the tension between solidary similarity, vis-à-vis outsiders, and the internal hierarchical differentiation of members from each other. Although the internal moment of group identification is a consistent and necessary thread of organisational identification, on balance categorisation - of outsiders by insiders, of members by other members - is the dominant theme of recruitment and initiation.

 

 


© Àäìèíèñòðàöèÿ ïðîåêòà “Social Identities in Transforming Societies” 2005 ã. Âñå ïðàâà íà ìàòåðèàëû ïðåäñòàâëåííûå íà ñàéòå ïðèíàäëåæàò óêàçàííûì àâòîðàì èëè àäìèíèñòðàöèè ïðîåêòà è îõðàíÿþòñÿ çàêîíîäàòåëüñòâîì îá àâòîðñêèõ ïðàâàõ, ëþáîå èñïîëüçîâàíèå áåç ðàçðåøåíèÿ ïðàâîîáëàäàòåëåé çàïðåùàåòñÿ.