(Phnom Penh, Sept. 2013)
Cambodians,
like other people living in state of chaos and poverty), need
structure and orderliness, in order they can channel their creativity
later on. It is implicitly understood that both personalities in this
study function within order and structure, immediately of the company, and then larger functioning society.
One of the reasons why in chaotic societies like Cambodia, educational institutions with structure and order tend to be established by Christians and are like magnets for the local elites and well-recognized for quality, e.g. Don Bosco, International School of Phnom Penh, Home of English, Hope School, World Vision, etc. Same in other developing countries, e.g. in Africa, where the local elites, including many presidents and prime ministers, benefited from Christian educational institutions.
One of the reasons why in chaotic societies like Cambodia, educational institutions with structure and order tend to be established by Christians and are like magnets for the local elites and well-recognized for quality, e.g. Don Bosco, International School of Phnom Penh, Home of English, Hope School, World Vision, etc. Same in other developing countries, e.g. in Africa, where the local elites, including many presidents and prime ministers, benefited from Christian educational institutions.
- Theary, Phnom Penh, 20 Sept. 2013
[excerpts]
The
results were something of a surprise, says Kathleen D. Vohs, a
behavioral scientist at the University of Minnesota and the leader of
the study. Few previous studies found much virtue in disarray. The broken-windows theory,
proposed decades ago, posits that even slight disorder and neglect can
encourage nonchalance, poor discipline and nihilism. Chaos begets
chaos.
The New York Times | 13 Sept. 2013
I love this Sprockets post by Scott Neeson.
The antithesis of Broken-windows Theory is community healing through
care and education, e.g. provided by this community center of the
Cambodian Children's Fund in the heart of apocalyptic conditions that is
Steung Meanchey.
James Q. Wilson, Geoge L. Kelling, The Manhattan Institute
[excerpts]
The community level, disorder and crime are usually inextricably linked, in a kind of developmental sequence. Social psychologists and police officers tend to agree that if a window in a building is broken and is left unrepaired, all the rest of the windows will soon be broken.
This is as true in nice neighborhoods as in run -down ones.
Window-breaking does not necessarily occur on a large scale because some
areas are inhabited by determined window-breakers whereas others are
populated by window-lovers; rather, one unrepaired broken window is a signal that no one cares, and so breaking more windows costs nothing. (It has always been fun.) [...]
Untended property becomes fair game for people out for fun or plunder, and even for people who ordinarily would not dream of doing such things and who probably consider themselves law -abiding. Because of the nature of community life in the Bronx -- its anonymity, the frequency with which cars are abandoned and things are stolen or broken, the past experience of "no one caring" -- vandalism begins much more quickly than it does in staid Palo Alto, where people have come to believe that private possessions are cared for, and that mischievous behavior is costly. But vandalism can occur anywhere once communal barriers -- the sense of mutual regard and the obligations of civility -- are lowered by actions that seem to signal that "no one cares."
We suggest that "untended" behavior also leads to the breakdown of community controls. A stable neighborhood of families who care for their homes, mind each other's children, and confidently frown on unwanted intruders can change, in a few years or even a few months, to an inhospitable and frightening jungle. A piece of property is abandoned, weeds grow up, a window is smashed. Adults stop scolding rowdy children; the children, emboldened, become more rowdy. Families move out, unattached adults move in. Teenagers gather in front of the corner store. The merchant asks them to move; they refuse. Fights occur. Litter accumulates. People start drinking in front of the grocery; in time, an inebriate slumps to the sidewalk and is allowed to sleep it off. Pedestrians are approached by panhandlers.
We must return to our long-abandoned view that the police ought to protect communities as well as individuals. Our crime statistics and victimization surveys measure individual losses, but they do not measure communal losses. Just as physicians now recognize the importance of fostering health rather than simply treating illness, so the police -- and the rest of us -- ought to recognize the importance of maintaining, intact, communities without broken windows.
Untended property becomes fair game for people out for fun or plunder, and even for people who ordinarily would not dream of doing such things and who probably consider themselves law -abiding. Because of the nature of community life in the Bronx -- its anonymity, the frequency with which cars are abandoned and things are stolen or broken, the past experience of "no one caring" -- vandalism begins much more quickly than it does in staid Palo Alto, where people have come to believe that private possessions are cared for, and that mischievous behavior is costly. But vandalism can occur anywhere once communal barriers -- the sense of mutual regard and the obligations of civility -- are lowered by actions that seem to signal that "no one cares."
We suggest that "untended" behavior also leads to the breakdown of community controls. A stable neighborhood of families who care for their homes, mind each other's children, and confidently frown on unwanted intruders can change, in a few years or even a few months, to an inhospitable and frightening jungle. A piece of property is abandoned, weeds grow up, a window is smashed. Adults stop scolding rowdy children; the children, emboldened, become more rowdy. Families move out, unattached adults move in. Teenagers gather in front of the corner store. The merchant asks them to move; they refuse. Fights occur. Litter accumulates. People start drinking in front of the grocery; in time, an inebriate slumps to the sidewalk and is allowed to sleep it off. Pedestrians are approached by panhandlers.
We must return to our long-abandoned view that the police ought to protect communities as well as individuals. Our crime statistics and victimization surveys measure individual losses, but they do not measure communal losses. Just as physicians now recognize the importance of fostering health rather than simply treating illness, so the police -- and the rest of us -- ought to recognize the importance of maintaining, intact, communities without broken windows.
2 comments:
Theary's patronizing rubbish, recycled.
It is becoming difficult to find relevant information on KI, because Theary Seng is flooding everything with her self-absorbed pseudo-intelectual photo diary entries.
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