Not Under My Roof: Parents, Teens, and the Culture of Sex (35 page)

To understand why normalization “works” as a form of control, we must see that it valorizes, and creates opportunities for individuals to ex- perience, human connection, and that it makes it easier for teenagers to gain self-mastery through that connection.
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The normalization of adoles- cent sexuality makes it easier for
parents
and other adults to support youth as sexual subjects. Teenagers, in turn, self-regulate and speak—following the mandates of
gezelligheid
—not just because they have been disciplined to do so but because they value and want to participate in togetherness. When they are excited to share their first sexual experiences, it is because they believe they are communicating something new and real about them- selves and, in doing so, connecting with people who recognize them. And when girls and boys shape their sexualities and selves in accordance with the expectations of normality, by using contraceptives for instance, they are demonstrating to themselves and others that they are competent adults-in- the-making.

By the same token, to interpret the dramatization of adolescent sexu- ality merely as an outdated and largely ineffective form of social control is also to miss a piece of the puzzle. It is true that in exerting unabashed authority, by insisting on winning important battles while letting go of the small things, American parents embrace elements of what Foucault has termed sovereign power—the power to override and punish subordinates. But this persistence of sovereign power does not signal, as one might ini-

tially imagine, simply a “lag” in development toward more modern forms of power and social control. Indeed, to understand why a particular form of power evolves, persists, or becomes reinvigorated over time, it is not enough to consider its technical efficiency and effects. We must also con- sider, as Foucault does in his work on ethics, visions of the “good life” for the individual and society at large, and the self-formation required to at- tain that life.
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Indeed, the sexual ethics that prohibits teenage sexuality and expels it from the household results, in part, from the celebration of the freedom to do whatever one wants. This celebration of individual volition has a “positive moment” in its prioritization of self-actualization over inextri- cable obligations to others, and of change, with its potential for creativity and challenge, over continuity.
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Its “negative moment” comes from the absence of a solid and common ground for the continuation of social re- lationships. The ideal of total freedom conceives of social ties as matters of choice rather than necessity, and as constraints rather than natural plea- sures, constructing “breaking away” as the way that adolescents assert their agency. Yet, without faith in the ties that bind—and in the inalienable hu- man need and desire to form such ties—it becomes difficult to imagine the restraint of individual impulses without reliance on fear of authority or external controls.

In short, to understand why parents use the techniques for control that they do, and how these techniques affect adolescents, we need to look at the cultural ideals they embrace and the proclivities and capacities they seek to develop in their teenage children. These different cultural ideals and cultural capacities do not denote more or less modern forms; rather, they denote two different ways of imagining and giving shape to modern individuals and collectivities. One conditions the creation and enjoyment of harmonious, pleasant togetherness in the absence of sharp power dif- ferentials. The other envisions and prepares for the power and pleasure of pursuing one’s dreams without being held back by rules or relationships, even as it suspends such power and pleasure for those not deemed ready or deserving. These versions of post-1960s self and society have been pro- duced not only in white middle-class households but also in the polity and economy.

A politics of consultation and accommodation has characterized the Dutch government and economy during the final decades of the twentieth cen-

tury. The Dutch multiparty government long operated—from the national level down to the local level—according to this “politics of accommoda- tion.”
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The “consultation economy” similarly regulates the branches of in- dustry and service through “collective labor agreements,” which result from negotiations between representatives of government, labor, and business— whose presumed shared interests are reflected in the common parlance in which the parties are referred to as “the social partners.”
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On the one hand, the politics of accommodation and integration have involved “taking into account” the needs of groups with less social and economic power—the working class, women, immigrants, and children— and granting them rights to housing, health care, and other necessities.
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On the other hand, the “agreements” that result from consultations do not denote full equality. The calls for self-restraint and accommodation that accompany governance by negotiation preclude those in power from exer- cising it without regard for the humanity and dignity of those below. Rules of representation give subordinates say in all matter of decision-making.
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However, although all parties make compromises, it is often those with the least economic or political power who are expected to exercise the great- est restraint and forbearance.
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Thus consultative arrangements do not fundamentally challenge the existing system of stratification—between the classes, the sexes, or the members of different ethnic groups. Much as ne- gotiation in the family effectively elicits consent and prevents rebellion, so too have the politics and economy of accommodation long stifled un- rest and prevented protest, whether from the labor, feminist, or gay rights movement.
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A hybrid structure, the Dutch welfare state thus supports and “emanci- pates” the weaker groups in society at the same time that it also solidifies status differences.
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Its social democratic features, aimed at creating equality among citizens, are expressed in, among others, universal pension benefits. Its corporatist features, aimed at preserving status differentials, have inhib- ited women from joining the workforce as full-time employees and have tailored unemployment benefits according to previous salaries earned. The policies of the Dutch welfare state prevent any group from sinking into abject poverty and facilitate upward mobility for the working class,
but also
stabilize the class position of the middle class, including that of the upper- middle class.
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As a result, for several decades the Dutch welfare state outspent most others.
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And as it spent on carrots, the Dutch state of the 1980s and 1990s was notoriously averse to using sticks. Much as Dutch middle-class par- ents hasten to say that “one should never forbid,” the post-1960s Dutch

state long shied away from prohibition and harsh punishment. In re- sponding to crime, the Dutch criminal justice system often makes use of alternatives to imprisonment, such as fines and community sentences, and prison sentences and conditions are mild in comparison to those in many other European countries and the United States.
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Finally, the dominant response to drug abuse and prostitution has been to regulate and accom- modate within limits rather than to forbid and to punish. This policy of domestication destigmatizes “deviants,” making it easier for them to “learn from their mistakes” and participate in normal society, or, if nothing else, to contribute to its social services by paying taxes.
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In short, the controlling and supporting dimensions of the Dutch wel- fare state have gone hand in hand:
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as is true of governance in the Dutch middle-class family, the disciplining, incorporating, and subduing effects of Dutch state policies depend, in part, on the social supports they provide and the opportunities for self-realization they offer. Thus, just as a Foucaul- dian analysis of normalization in the Dutch middle-class family misses the significance of interpersonal connection in facilitating the exercise of “in- visible” power, so too is such an analysis of the effectiveness of the Dutch welfare state amiss in overlooking the social bonds between people and the self-determination it helps foster.
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Indeed, authors of a 1998 social and cultural report conclude that in spite of growing individualization, the Dutch welfare state may well have become a “civil” religion: “a symbolic center that gives the Dutch people a feeling of communal identification.”
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In contrast to the relative stability, continuity, and continuous negotiations established by the Dutch political and economic system, the American economy and polity are characterized by rapid changes, sudden successes, and reversals of fortune. Neither the winner-take-all nature of the executive branch, nor the two-party system of the legislative branch, nor the all-or- nothing legal decisions of the Supreme Court involve the kind of mutual ac- commodations and compromises required in the Dutch political and legal arena.
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Thus, from the federal to local level, American politics divides win- ners, who make most of the decisions, from losers, who either wait by the side for their turn in the seat of power or find themselves structurally excluded.
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The American economy too is characterized by more flux and by sharper divisions between “winners” and “losers” than is the Dutch economy. In- deed, the salaries of executives and upper managers are considerably higher in the United States than they are in the Netherlands, while the incomes

of Americans in “low-wage” occupations are significantly lower, relative to average incomes, than those of their Dutch counterparts. Their lack of job protection means that American workers move in and out of jobs much more rapidly than do their Dutch counterparts. Further, in the absence of centralized wage-setting institutions, many American middle-class workers are directly responsible as individuals for bargaining with their employ- ers for wages and benefits. Salaries and benefits vary a great deal, even be- tween similarly qualified employees. Thus, the economic fortunes of an individual depend greatly on his or her own ability to “win the important battles.”
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The American polity and economy thus create circumstances in which individuals experience either a great deal of decision-making power or very little at all. At the same time, the mobility engendered and required by the American economy and polity means that, especially for those in the mid- dle, it is never too late to win
or
lose. The American welfare state does little to temper upward and downward mobility or the antagonism between those with different interests. If anything, the welfare state has exacerbated rather than mitigated the social divisions in American society—between black and white, young and old, and between the poor and working class on the one hand and the upper-middle class on the other.
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Americans at the bottom experience an intensity of poverty unparalleled in the advanced industrial world.
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And large holes in the safety net mean that even middle- class families can, at any time, “fall from grace.”
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The flipside of a government that neither aims for consensus nor offers economic protection, however, is that those citizens who—for reasons of political conviction, ethnicity, or sexual orientation—find themselves on the losing side of the battle are free to “break away” from “mainstream” society and form distinctive communities. The formation of gated commu- nities for the wealthy has been widely noted. Equally notable is that cul- tural communities—with beliefs, habits, and aims that differ from or are even antagonistic to the mainstream—are given more leeway to go their own way in the United States than they are in the Netherlands. Whereas the Dutch state consults, subsidizes, and requires accommodations from those on the political, economic, and cultural margins, the American state neither subsidizes nor expects equivalent “accommodations” from those in alternative religious, ethnic, and political communities.
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But if American society tolerates relatively autonomous ethnic and po- litical communities in its midst, it also issues stricter prohibitions against activities deemed deviant and punishes transgressions more severely. Moreover, prohibitions and punishments are directed disproportionately

at the “losers” in society—the poor, minorities, and minors. Thus, rather than tolerate and regulate “vices” such as drug use and prostitution, as has the Dutch state, the American state outlaws these activities and aggressively prosecutes offenders.
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During the 1980s and 1990s, it has imprisoned an increasingly large proportion of its population, frequently imposing long sentences in response to minor crimes.
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Although this “culture of control” affects young people of color disproportionately, even in white middle- class communities young people often face intense surveillance practices and police-enforced curfews in schools and public spaces, and they can face severe consequences for drug use, drinking, and sexual behavior.
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There are several ways to interpret these parallels between the language and practices at work in middle-class families and broader political and economic institutions in the two countries. First, the American and Dutch welfare and penal states create economic and psychological conditions for the dramatization and normalization of teenage sexuality. As we have seen, American middle-class parents have reason to feel uncertain about their own economic futures and those of their children. Especially among nonprofessional middle-class parents, this sense of uncertainty and lurking danger may well feed the belief that parents must use rules against sex and other temptations to keep their teenage children on the right track.
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More- over, parents may fear their children’s high-school attachments because they could impede the physical mobility that is often required to obtain a four-year college degree.
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