Committed to Change
Juliet Schor sees link in her academic and social missions
By Greg Frost
Staff Writer
It's an early summer day in Boston, and Sociology Department
chair Prof. Juliet Schor is busy doing the work of
a public sociologist.
As defined by former American Sociological Association
President Michael Burawoy, the label refers to those
in the profession who combine learning and scholarship
with a drive to act and improve society. The term is
well-suited for Schor, a nationally recognized expert
on consumerism and trends in work and leisure who has
been on a mission to right societal wrongs for most
of her career - if not her life.
On this particular day, Schor's classroom is a sleek,
windowless conference room; her pupils are a half-dozen
or so executives at a health insurance company. Faced
with mounting costs from America's obesity epidemic,
the executives are exploring ways to foster healthier
lifestyles, particularly among children. They have
invited Schor, whose 2004 book Born to Buy illustrates
the extent to which children have become targets of
opportunity for corporate America's marketing machine,
to share her views.
Schor runs through a slideshow outlining the major themes
from her book: the commercialization of childhood,
the fact that food - much of it junk - is the top product
category being sold to kids, the way marketers try
to drive a "coolness" wedge between children
and their parents to sell junk food, and the corresponding
surge in childhood obesity rates.
Schor's audience - several of whom are parents themselves
- seems to be bordering on hopelessness. One executive
asks what, if anything, can be done. Another executive
- the company's marketing chief - wonders aloud how
"coolness" can be tapped to promote healthy
eating and exercise in kids.
It's the moment Schor has been waiting for. There needs
to be a change in the food environment, she says, but
simply using more advertising won't work. Instead,
she suggests solutions like encouraging more family
meals, partnering with children's advocacy groups,
and funding so-called "edible schoolyards,"
in which schoolchildren grow their own organic food,
prepare it and eat it together.
"It's time for companies like yours to stand up
to the food companies and tell them to stop marketing
to kids," she says.
It's a tough sell, and it's not immediately clear how
Schor's exhortation has gone over. The meeting ends
shortly thereafter with the executives telling Schor
that they'll consider her suggestions and get back
to her, although it might take a while.
Months later, she receives word. It turns out her lecture
struck a chord - "They told me told me that my
seminar was an 'aha' moment for them," Schor says
- and she has been summoned back to speak to 100 of
the company's top brass.
Regardless of whether a big shift in corporate policy
results, Schor's presentation to the insurance executives
is important because it demonstrates her particular
vision about learning and scholarship. To Schor, acquiring
knowledge is only part of the education equation; inextricably
linked to that is the duty to act on it and bring about
social change.
Influenced at a young age
Schor admits that she developed an orientation to politics
and social action at a young age, growing up in the
tiny coal-mining town of California, Pa. Her parents
- "both very committed social activists,"
Schor says - were there because her father had been
blacklisted in the 1950s. A surgeon by trade, he went
to work for a coal miners' union and set up a health
clinic for miners.
Shaped by her parents' views and by the turmoil of the
late 1960s and early 1970s, Schor says she became a
student activist in high school. Her first major cause
was the farm workers' union, and she found herself
oriented toward questions of power relationships between
workers and their employers. From there, it was a natural
progression to economics, the subject in which she
earned bachelor's and doctoral degrees from Wesleyan
University and the University of Massachusetts at Amherst,
respectively.
Schor taught economics at Williams College and Barnard
College before joining the faculty of Harvard's economics
department in 1984.
It was during her time at Harvard that Schor made a
national name for herself, landing on The New York
Times bestseller list with a look at a curious trend
in American society. Her book, The Overworked American:
The Unexpected Decline of Leisure, bluntly repudiated
the notion that American-style capitalism was producing
declines in work time thanks to continuous productivity
improvements. Instead, Schor wrote, the opposite was
true: The average American was working longer hours.
The Overworked American marked the first time Schor
had written a book for a general audience, and to this
day it is the professional achievement of which she
is most proud because of the way it resonated with
Americans and influenced public policy. One example
Schor cites is the correspondence she had with many
readers who said the book changed their lives. She
also points to the Family and Medical Leave Act, the
landmark legislation that lets workers take unpaid
leave due to illness or care for sick family members,
which was signed into law a year after The Overworked
American hit bookshelves.
"That's the thing that has been most gratifying:
The work had an impact in propelling the work-family
agenda," she says.
Around the time The Overworked American came out, Schor
started teaching women's studies in addition to economics
at Harvard and found herself drawn more toward cultural
and social issues. By the time she came out with The
Overspent American: Upscaling, Downshifting and the
New Consumer in 1998, she was fascinated with America's
work-spend-debt culture.
It was also around this time that she began hiring students
from Boston College's Ph.D. program to teach women's
studies at Harvard, and the assessment of their performance
was impressive.
"They were getting excellent recommendations. The
students at Harvard were saying things like 'This is
the best teaching fellow I've had,' so I started to
learn more about the Sociology Department at BC,"
she says.
Conversations with faculty, deans and students suggested
to her that in addition to academic excellence, there
was a strong tradition of service and social conscience
ingrained in the mission of the Sociology Department
and in the University as a whole. That, coupled with
the fact that husband Prasannan Parthasarathi had been
hired to teach in the History Department, helped her
see that BC was a perfect fit. In 2001, she left Harvard
after 17 years and joined BC as a professor of sociology.
Talking the talk, walking the walk
As a self-described public sociologist, Schor talks
the talk and walks the walk, melding scholarship with
a kind of day-to-day social activism that plays out
in front of students and outside the classroom.
On Greater Boston's congested roads, she can be found
driving her older-model Toyota Prius hybrid, trying
to cut down on greenhouse gas emissions. In her Newton
home, she resists the pull of the consumerist culture
by insisting on family meals and restricting television
access for her two children (although in the last year
she has eased her stance a bit, allowing her 10-year-old
daughter to view an episode of the Fox hit series "American
Idol" and letting her son catch the odd Red Sox
game on NESN).
When she's not teaching, researching, running her department
or raising her family, Schor serves on the board of
directors of the Center for a New American Dream, a
Maryland-based non-profit she co-founded in the 1990s
that aims to help Americans consume responsibly.
Sean Sheehan, the group's outreach director, says Schor
feels very strongly that her work and everything she
brings to it should have an impact on people's lives.
"She is probably one of the best examples of an
academic putting knowledge and research into practice
and into social change," Sheehan says.
Boston College Provost and Dean of Faculties Bert Garza
calls Schor's work a "wonderful example"
of serious scholarship that addresses a significant
societal problem. Garza, former chair of the Food and
Nutrition Board for the Institute of Medicine, says
that among the aspects of Schor's research that caught
his eye is her focus on the link between consumerism
and obesity among US children.
"Juliet's work is helping us understand relationships
between how food is marketed to children and the growing
global obesity epidemic. It is an instructive example
of a multidisciplinary approach that is of economics
and sociology," he says.
Critics, including some colleagues at BC, have questioned
whether her role as a public sociologist involves stepping
too far into the arena of advocacy, especially in issues
related to the Catholic dimension of Boston College.
But Schor says one doesn't have to dig very deep to
see that social change is part of her department's
DNA. The actual title of Boston College's PhD program
in Sociology, she notes, isn't just "Sociology"
but "Social Justice and Social Economy: Class,
Race and Gender in a Global Context."
"That had a huge impact on me when I found that
out," Schor says, recalling how the discovery
of the program's name helped influence her decision
to leave Harvard for the Heights.
"At Harvard there's an iron curtain between scholarship
and service, and it's very deliberate," Schor
says. "I think that's a problematic distinction
- it's an impoverishing distinction to both sides of
the equation."
Schor says it is important for Boston College and especially
the Sociology Department to build on the tradition
of engaged scholarship.
"Today's students are very concerned about issues
of inequality, exploitation, poverty, the failures
of the global system, the unraveling of the social
fabric here at home," she says. "To the extent
that we have a tradition here of both teaching and
scholarship that engages those problems and uses teaching
and scholarship as a means to try to solve them, I
think that's a huge strength."
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