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new clothing and foods to be eaten to participation in ceremonial activity. This pattern of giving the child wide freedom in personal choices of social action is in accordance with the adult social deference pattern idea that consent of a junior is required by a senior in actions affecting the junior person; this same idea is the basic rationale of the adults for the treatment of the child as a distinct social person. Consideration of the child as a person does not vary as he matures, it is essentially the same through the whole of the process of socialization. As a consequence of this pattern, children are thrown almost entirely on their own judgments as to proper action in specific social situations. The choices made are accepted by adults without comment until after puberty, when the child is supposed to know "what people do." These six patterns may be regarded as the main components of the Papago socialization process. Together, they impart to this process its characteristic uniqueness and represent the structure of the culturally derived ideas that constitute the major orientation points for adults in their elicitation of desired social behavior in the maturing child. This structure is felt to be the most likely locus for further research, for it appears to be the broad outline within which the factors of causality between the process of socialization and patterns of adult behavior probably will be found to be operative. At the present level of research no conclusions concerning causality can be offered. However, it can be pointed out that the Papago socialization process, in marked contrast to those of many other societies, is unencumbered by many deliberate attempts to use overt and specific techniques to lead children to exhibit behavior that is held by this group to be customary and acceptable.13

HE process of getting to be better-off than one used to be does not ordinarily make one sit and reflectively balance what he may have lost against the advantages gained. For, if being reasonably well-off is a novel experience-as is implied when we talk of mobility it may take a long time for the novelty to wear off. One begins to spend time and energy in cultivating the new habits of consumption and the new modes of living appropriate to his new position. And, perhaps one's most ardent wish is that no one should rock the boat, or raise questions about other dimensions of life on which this experience of mobility may be having an impact. But this is what I propose to do here, briefly, and, in large part, impressionistically, since while much attention has been given to measuring mobility and to comparing the mobility rates of various groups in various societies,' relatively little attention has been paid to the range of consequences generated.

It is certain, however, that there are some tensions and strains in the social structure. These have been largely ignored in the present paper, since the going society is characteristically stable. A forthcoming paper, however, will examine in some detail the role of changing bases of land tenure as a source of actual discontent at present, and as a probable source of later social change of a significant degree.'

EARLIER notions of the relation between prejudice and discrimination held them to be closely interdependent. Discrimination, it was often assumed, was practiced by the prejudiced person and could not be eliminated except as prejudice was first removed.' More recent research and theory have been very persuasive, however, in the suggestion that there exists between the attitude of prejudice and the action of discrimination a gap in which a variety of facilitating or inhibiting factors can be interposed. In short, between private feeling and public action there is room for the play of other factors which significantly influence the extent to which feeling will be translated into matching action or will be repressed on behalf of other values. Law, custom, conscience and informal community restraints are the types of factors which can and have been interposed.2 Even the most ardent advocates of legal action will admit, however, that it is questionable how enduring or stable are purely legal restraints in preventing the translation of prejudice into discrimination. Unless deeper commitments oppose prejudices, one must be seriously concerned.3 Yet we also know that prejudice will not easily, if ever, yield to the blandishments of rational evidence. Nor is emotional re-education a feasible public alternative. We are therefore led to seek other factors which may be invoked to help counterbalance the impulses and drives generated by emotionally-rooted prejudices, and which may effectively modify behavior without necessarily altering the prejudices themselves. If these factors are to become instruments of public policy, they must be able to be developed reasonably quickly and at relatively low cost. A clue is given to us by the studies of the impact of formal education upon behavior in a variety of contexts. For the literature is rich with suggestions that as formal education increases there tend to occur noticeable shifts from: (a) nationalism to internationalism, in political point of view; (b) traditionalism to secularism, in general social philosophy; (c) common sense to science, as acceptable evidence; (d) punishment to reform, in penological theory; (e) violence and direct action to law, as agents of policy; (f) rigidity to permissiveness, in child rearing; (g) patriarchy to democracy, in spouse relationships; (h) anesthesia to creativity, in patterns of recreation. A common feature of these changes is that they imply the development of an awareness by the individual that there are: (a) other places than his own locality; (b) other times than the immediate present; (c) persons other than himself and his immediate primary group; and (d) other values he cherishes as ingredients of other aspects of his self. In brief, the individual who experiences these changes has enlarged his perspectives on time, place, person and values. This enlargement, the literature suggests, occurs somehow as a result of pro1 For a thorough review of the major viewpoints, see G. W. Allport, The Nature of Prejudice, Cambridge, Mass.: Addison-Wesley, 1954. For more specialized surveys of related problems, see J. S. Brunner and R. Tagiuri, "The Perception of People" in Gardner Lindzey (ed.), Handbook of Social Psychology, Vol. II, pp. 634-654, Cambridge, Mass.: Addison Wesley, 1954; and J. Harding, B. Kutner, H. Proshansky and I. Chein, "Prejudice and Ethnic Relations," ibid., pp. 1021-1061. 2 For analysis of the "vicious circle" and the effectiveness of interpositions at various points, see, for example, R. K. Merton, "The Self-Fulfilling Prophecy," Chapter VII, in his Social Theory and Social Structure, Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1949; and R. M. MacIver's The More Perfect Union, New York: Macmillan, 1948. 3 The best full-length analysis of the role of law in ethnic relations is Morroe Berger's Equality by Statute, New York: Columbia University Press, 1952. See also his excellent article, "Desegregation, Law and Social Science," Commentary, 23 (May, 1957), pp. 471-477; and his Racial Equality and the Law, Paris: UNESCO, 1954.

r NHE SIGNIFI CANCE of social status and social mobility as variables in the analysis of social action is by now taken for granted. This is true even though there is considerable unevenness in how these variables are defined and measured, and in the ways and degrees to which the effects of these variables are evidenced. These variables take on added importance when their implications for social integration and anomie are considered. Status refers to position in a social order, and mobility to changes in such positions. Differential positions tend frequently to receive differential evaluation. Therefore, one of the most important effects to be expected is the degree to which persons with diffierent statusand mobility-profiles feel differently valued by their social order, and act as if they were differently integrated into its norms. These effects probably are most noticeable when insecurity, anxiety, and a genera] sensitivity to questions of status are widespread, as is so often the case in an open class system.l Social changes which threaten status arrangements ought therefore to be viewed with different degrees of alarm, and resistance to such changes should emerge in proportion to the degree of threat which is experienced. Desegregation, as it refers to the promised amelioration of the positions of Negroes in our society, is one such major change. Expectably, reactions to desegregation vary in degree and quality of resistance. In this paper we shall examine the extent to which diffierences in attitudes towards desegregation are related to differences in status and mobility . The data to be reported come from a study conducted in Guilford County, North Carolina, in the fall of I 956. An area-probability sample of 287 White adult (over I8) members of the labour force was interviewed. The principal aim of the study was to discover the lines along which diffierences in readiness and resistance to desegregation were distributed. Toward this end a number of sociological background

T HE SITUATION I wish to report here concerns the pueblo of San Luis Jilotepeque, a small, relatively isolated community in the interior of Guatemala, about go miles from Guatemala City, inhabited, at the time of my studies there, by about 3500 people of whom some i ioo were Ladinos, or people of presumptive Spanish descent, and 2400 of whom were Indians (or mixed-Indian and Ladino) of Maya-Quiche descent.1 Intrinsically, the community is no more nor less significant or interesting than any other community which might be chosen at random. It does have considerable sociological significance of a sort, however, for it represents one of those "Pango-Pango" situations, of which some anthropologists are so fond, because it can be cited as a local exception to some generally prevailing hypotheses. For instance, it is generally agreed that here is a situation of caste-relations between people of different genetic and cultural origins where there is a minimum of conflict. Moreover, the superordinate caste, the Ladinos, are in a distinct numerical minority.

account for observed variations in the relationship of status consistency to preference for change in the distribution of power for different strata.'4 Both lines of interpretation suggested above appear plausible, at least post hoc. It is impossible at present, however, to assess their relevance. On the basis of the findings of this study, and the arguments given, the following specifications for further research can be made. Measurement of status consistency should take into account the extent to which the status characteristics used are likely to be simultaneously salient. Second, the opportunities for alternative modes of adjustment to status inconsistency should be controlled or systematically varied. Third, to test the rationale underlying the hypothesis relating status consistency and preference for change in the distribution of power, it would be desirable to measure the intervening variables assumed to be important, e.g. tendency to locate the sources of discomfort in the environment, and relate these to the independent and dependent variables. These would seem to be minimum specifications for clarifying the relationship of status consistency to preference for change in distribution of power.

for sociable reasons seem more likely to remain with an organization than those who join for other reasons. Whereas there were only 8 '2 per cent fewer persons with an associational tie of five years' standing among those reporting some sociable motivation (47 cases versus 43 cases), there were 50 per cent fewer among those not reporting a sociable motivation (30 versus 15). Since sociable motivations are less frequently observed among persons with poorly crystallized status, their higher drop-out rate in voluntary associations becomes more understandable.

our democracy as a sort of spontaneous cooperative enterprise. If it comes, Latin American democracy, on the other hand, is apt to be achieved rather in terms of a balance between a sort of paternal authoritarianism and an unwilling electorate in a state of permanent potential rebellion. The people, demanding to be led, will set up leaders whose exercise of power will be limited strictly to what he finds-under the permanent threat of revolution-they will permit him to do. It is probably significant that the new constitution of Guatemala will likely safeguard explicitly, and attempt to implement, a "right of revolution." From the point of view of these countries of Latin America, the most difficult problem in achieving democracy may therefore be not its lack of a tradition of what we think of as the "democratic way" but rather the folklike character of the greater part of the population. Before there can be a democratic nation, there must be a nation; before all people can have equal opportunity in the economic and social system, they must be part of one system. These conditions, in Mexico and most of Central America, are not now met. As in a colonial situation, the ruling groups are largely of one cultural tradition, the ruled masses of another. The Few are part of the Great Society, the Many of a large number of different and parochial small societies. It is only the Few to whom democracy is even a stated end, and unlike the native leaders in colonial countries in which outside interference gives impetus to nationalist movements among the folk, those here will have to "incorporate" the masses into the national culture with no help from these masses.