Stanford University Press Blog

The Famous Fultz Quads

The origin of America's first surviving set of identical quadruplets.

ANDREA FREEMAN

Pet Milk ad featuring the Fultz quadruplets. Their doctor sold the rights to use the sisters for marketing purposes to the highest-bidding formula company.

“Four Little Babies.” Pet Milk, “Four Little Babies Become Four Little Ladies,” advertisement, Pittsburgh Courier, October 22, 1949, 5. Public Domain.

 

We're pleased to present an excerpt from Chapter 1 of Skimmed: Breastfeeding, Race, and Injustice » by Andrea Freeman.

Annie Mae Fultz could not afford to let anything go wrong with her pregnancy. Her doctor, Fred Klenner, had detected three tiny heartbeats inside her. It was 1946. Annie Mae was a tall, strong, thirty-seven-year-old half-Black, half-Cherokee woman from Tennessee.¹ Dr. Klenner, although originally from Pennsylvania, happily adhered to southern racial norms.² He had separate waiting rooms for Blacks and Whites in his downtown Reidsville, North Carolina, office. The old-fashioned decor of his practice matched his dated views. His segregated waiting rooms gave way to treatment rooms full of ancient furniture and unusual medical instruments.³ His walls displayed White supremacist literature and, later, a “Vote for George Wallace” poster.⁴ He vigorously defended Hitler as misunderstood to anyone who would listen.⁵ The local hospital where he delivered babies, Annie Penn Memorial, relegated Black mothers to the basement.⁶ Despite his unapologetic racism, Annie Mae had faith in Dr. Klenner’s medical abilities.

The neglected ward housed Annie Penn’s least valued patients and its oldest, shabbiest equipment. Annie Mae’s meager bedside boasted only bare-bones paraphernalia: a single-unit hot plate and a ten-quart kettle.

Annie Mae had plenty of challenges to overcome in the face of the growing lives inside her. A childhood battle with spinal meningitis had robbed her of the ability to hear or speak, rendering the possibility of a medical emergency, when urgent communication would be essential, even more frightening.⁷ On the tobacco farm where Annie Mae’s husband, James, a fifty-nine-year-old Black man known to all as Pete,⁸ toiled as a tenant farmer, there was no electricity.⁹ The family had no car, and the road leading out to the farm was rutted, long, and lonely. On Dr. Klenner’s advice, Annie Mae left her six children in their father’s care and moved into Annie Penn’s basement to wait out her delivery.¹⁰ To pass the long hours that followed on her hospital cot, Annie Mae conversed with her nurse, Margaret Ware, through gestures and lip-reading.¹¹

The odds that all three of Annie Mae’s triplets would survive were slim. Although any mother expecting triplets must come to terms with multiples’ low survival rate, Annie Mae confronted more obstacles than most. Advances in modern medicine that could have eased the birth process had yet to reach the basement. The neglected ward housed Annie Penn’s least valued patients and its oldest, shabbiest equipment. Annie Mae’s meager bedside boasted only bare-bones paraphernalia: a single-unit hot plate and a ten-quart kettle.¹²

What William Barr Can Learn from Ramsey Clark

Lonnie Brown on William Barr, Ramsey Clark, and the necessity of independence

LONNIE T. BROWN, JR.

February 2019- William P. Barr being sworn in as Attorney General by U.S. Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts with the participation of President Donald J. Trump. Public Domain. Official White House Photo by Tia Dufour. Via Wikimedia Commons.

 

During his confirmation hearing, William Barr touted his ability to distance himself from politics and to safeguard the rule of law, declaring, under oath, that as attorney general he would be “truly independent." To many, Barr’s words provided comfort or at least hope that he would be guided by law and principle, not the president’s political agenda. However, since being confirmed, his actions have revealed the illusory nature of his sworn declaration.

Rather than exhibiting the fairmindedness and objectivity expected of the nation’s chief law enforcement officer, Barr seems to have established a de facto attorney-client relationship with President Trump, serving as his strident advocate and partisan defender. For example, in March, he zealously made the president’s case for “no collusion” by publicly recasting the substance and tenor of Robert Mueller’s report on the investigation into Russian interference in the 2016 election.

More recently, in a similar vein, the attorney general sharply criticized the findings of the Justice Department’s Inspector General’s report on the FBI’s investigation into Russian involvement in the president’s 2016 campaign. That report concluded that the FBI had adequate grounds to open the investigation and was not politically motivated. In a rather transparent effort to parrot President Trump’s “witch-hunt” narrative, Barr characterized the FBI’s investigation as having been based on the “thinnest of suspicions” that he personally believed to be “insufficient to justify the steps taken.”

My guess is that a large segment of the electorate, across the political spectrum, sees nothing wrong with or surprising about Attorney General Barr’s alignment with the president, or any attorney general’s close relationship with a president, for that matter. Such a rapport is by no means simply a Republican phenomenon. President Obama’s attorney general Eric Holder, for instance, once referred to himself as the president’s “wingman,” connoting that his job was to have the chief executive’s back.

Pushing the Bully off Your Shoulder

Author of How to be Sort of Happy in Law School Offers Seven Ways to Beat Imposter Syndrome

KATHRYNE M. YOUNG

CC0 via Pixabay

I have something in common with Kristen Bell, Maya Angelou, Tom Hanks, and Sonia Sotomayor.  Or perhaps I should say, I have someone in common.  He sits on our shoulder and whispers little insults: “You are so clueless.”  “Everyone can tell you’re out of place.”  His name is Imposter Syndrome, and he’s a real bully. 

He hung out with me every day when I was a law student.  I couldn’t speak in class or talk to a professor without his incessant yammering.  And even now, he shows up: in faculty meetings, at conferences, or when I’m about to speak to a big group.  “What are you even doing here?” he hisses.  Writing about him in How to Be Sort of Happy in Law School was a little helpful, actually—it turns out, he hates the spotlight. 

Contested Foundations

How 20th-century debates reveal enduring tensions at the core of the human rights project.

by MARK GOODALE

Excerpt from a letter from W.H. Auden to Julian Huxley.

In 1947 and 1948, the bold and controversial first Director-General of the United Nations Educational, Scientific, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), Julian Huxley, together with Jacques Havet, the young first head of UNESCO’s philosophy sub-section, took steps that were intended to shape the conceptual framework of what became the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), which was adopted by the United Nations General Assembly on December 10, 1948. During these years, UNESCO put in motion an extraordinary process that was meant to reveal a cross-cultural consensus on the basic philosophical and ethical principles upon which a new global social contract should be based. This process—which involved soliciting opinions on the question of human rights by notables such as T. S. Eliot, W. H. Auden, and Gandhi—took place independently of the much more public one that unfolded somewhat later under the auspices of the UN’s Commission on Human Rights (CHR), which was chaired by Eleanor Roosevelt.

UNESCO put in motion an extraordinary process that was meant to reveal a cross-cultural consensus on the basic philosophical and ethical principles upon which a new global social contract should be based.

The work of UNESCO on human rights during this period, the debates surrounding its conflicts with the CHR, the specific results of the cross-cultural survey it undertook, and the broader implications of this survey for the meanings and legitimacy of human rights, were all lost to a history that was dominated by the geopolitical logics of the Cold War. Nevertheless, new research has revisited the UNESCO human rights survey in light of ongoing debates over what a recent volume by Hopgood, Snyder, and Vinjamuri has described as “human rights futures”: the possibilities for and limitations to human rights among the contemporary disorder and violence that Samuel Moyn calls the “neoliberal maelstrom.”

The Origins of the U.S. Surveillance State

In the U.S., carrying out military interventions abroad has undermined freedom at home.

by CHRISTOPHER J. COYNE and ABIGAIL R. HALL

Photo by Jonathan McIntosh. CC BY-SA 2.0 via Flickr.

The Cambridge Analytica/Facebook scandal continues to be front-page news. According to current reports Cambridge Analytica obtained private Facebook data, which it used to send pro-Trump material to targeted Facebook users. These reports have been met with outrage in Washington, D.C. The Federal Trade Commission has opened an investigation and U.S. senators have called for Mark Zuckerberg, the Facebook CEO, to testify in front of Congress.

Calls by Congress for increased oversight to prevent private companies from surveilling people are extremely ironic given that they themselves recently renewed a section of the 2008 Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act which allows for the warrantless surveillance of Americans. Issues regarding the appropriate use of government surveillance are also at the center of Robert Mueller’s investigation into the Trump administration. These headlines provide an excellent opportunity to consider the history of the U.S. government’s surveillance state, which matters for people across the world whose liberties are at stake as government power expands.

The origins of the present-day surveillance state can be traced back to the U.S. government’s military occupation of the Philippines in the late 1890s.

Caught in the Political Churn

DACA beneficiaries stand on unstable ground as March 5th deadline passes without action.

by ALEXIS M. SILVER

Demonstrators protest the recission of DACA in Los Angeles, September 5th, 2017. Photo by Molly Adams. CC BY-SA 2.0 via Flickr.

On September 5th, 2017, the Trump administration announced the rescission of Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) and set a date of March 5th, 2018 to begin phasing out the program. DACA, implemented under President Obama as an action of prosecutorial discretion in 2012, offers protection from deportation and work permits to approximately 700,000 young immigrants, often referred to as the DREAMers, who were brought to the United States as children. No new applicants were accepted after the September 5th announcement, and beneficiaries began to lose their protections as Congress failed to reach a bipartisan agreement offering a legislative replacement for DACA. However, in January and February of 2018, two separate federal courts in San Francisco and Brooklyn blocked the termination of the program, allowing beneficiaries to renew their protected status under DACA.

Despite widespread public support for DACA beneficiaries across the political spectrum, a legislative fix seems unlikely in the immediate future.

The protections provided by the court decisions offer beneficiaries some breathing room, but they are hardly a long-term solution. When the Supreme Court declined the Trump administration's request to take up the case directly from the lower courts, it ensured that the March 5th expiration date would not mark the definitive end of the policy, but it also foreshadowed a continuing battle over the ultimate fate of DACA. In the meantime, beneficiaries remain in a state of uncertainty as to what their futures may hold: a career and a sense of membership or civic disenfranchisement and the threat of deportation. Depending on where they reside, moreover, beneficiaries already have access to dramatically different opportunities.

The Dead Negev Doctrine

By manipulating law and geography Israel is dispossessing the Bedouins of their historic lands.

by OREN YIFTACHEL, AHMAD AMARA, and ALEXANDRE KEDAR

Photo by Physicians for Human Rights. CC BY-SA 2.0 via Flickr.

"When will the state understand that we are here to stay? These are our lands for hundreds of years; everybody knew this—the Ottomans, the British and the Israelis. These lands are our soul, our life, our identity. Even if they demolish Araqib 100 more times, we shall return". (Sayach Altouri, Shaikh of 'Araqib, January 4, 2018).

These words were spoken at a special event convened in the small village of ’Araqib following the release of the shaikh from a short period of custody for "trespassing" on his ancestors land. It also followed the 124th demolition of their village by the authorities, and the reconstruction of its modest homes by the Bedouin residents.

’Araqib is but one of many flashpoints in the protracted conflict over land in the Negev, where dozens of indigenous Bedouin communities, numbering 110,000 people, are still living in localities that are not recognized or planned, with their residents subject to more than 1,000 house demolitions per year (that’s four times the number of demolitions that occur in the occupied West Bank). The indigenous communities, who have lived in the area for hundreds of years, are denied basic services such as water, electricity, roads or schools.

Borders and Barriers

Economically anxious countries are tightening borders and imposing trade barriers but to no avail.

by MANLIO GRAZIANO

Mexico-US border wall at Tijuana, Mexico. Photo by Tomás Castelazo. CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikipedia.

The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 was hailed as the beginning of the end of all walls and barriers separating individuals and peoples. Yet as of 2007, just eighteen years later, Europe and its Eurasian margins saw the creation of about 16,600 miles of new political borders, which means that for every mile of one dismantled border (the Berlin Wall), 107 miles of new borders have been built.

Why so? Because the new international disorder, precipitated by the dissolution of the Cold War, has led to more wars, more walls, and a more disunited world. It has also accelerated the shift of power from the old industrialized countries to the “emerging” nations: starting in the 1970s, the countries that used to dominate the world witnessed the rise of an increasing number of new international competitors. The top global companies of the Fortune 500 between 2001 and 2017 reveals the trend: the number of North American and European companies that make the cut have declined, while Asian-based companies (from China in particular) have steadily filled the breach.

For growing sectors of the American population and, more generally, the population of the old industrialized countries, this shift of power translates into uncertainty and fear. This is not necessarily because their living standard has worsened; on the contrary, in terms of per capita product, the United States is the ninth richest country in the world—a distinction it held in 1999 at the pinnacle of the economically robust Clinton years. But compared against its performance in 1999, the United States slightly closed the gap between itself and the other eight richest nations in 2016, when it experienced an increase in its per capita product relative to those countries. What these populations feel, fear, and know, however, is that their living standards cannot improve anymore, and that sooner or later they may very well worsen.

Many of those same countries eager to close their borders and expel foreign-born residents could stand to benefit greatly from immigration.

Taxing the Artist

What implications does the new GOP tax bill have for working artists?

by ALISON GERBER 

Photo by Mark Burnett. CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons. 

Today an opaque and as yet mostly unread GOP tax bill is hurtling towards the President’s desk. The media have mostly avoided a close look at the collective effects of the tax bill—the near-inevitable cuts to public services and national infrastructure that will affect all of us—and instead my feeds have been dripping for days with straightforward “ways to make the new tax bill work for you,” including a cynical guide to “hacking the tax plan” that promises to help you learn “ways to profit off the Republican tax bill.” A number of these pieces give the reader helpful hints on ways to turn themselves into business entities, as though setting up an LLC is something like getting a new set of business cards printed—do I go with a friendly diminutive like “Allie”, or the more formal “Alison”?—rather than a meaningful legal commitment with significant costs and responsibilities.

At the moment, it looks like artists’ abilities to end next year in the black will be tied up with one provision in particular: standardized deductions will double, but those who don’t file a Schedule C or set up a pass-through entity will lose the ability to deduct work-related expenses, a change that could hit performing artists especially hard. Musicians, dancers, and actors with steady gigs are often categorized as employees and receive W-2s; now it seems they’ll no longer be able to itemize and deduct expenses related to getting and doing those jobs, though most artists spend a significant proportion of their incomes on the costs of doing business (think: transportation costs; headshots; agents’ commissions; a dancer’s weekly supply of pointe shoes; that $19,000 tuba at the back of the orchestra and the extra $1,000 for the wheeled case its player needs to get it to work). Well, you might ask, why not just file a Schedule C? It’s not that easy, though.

It looks like artists’ abilities to end next year in the black will be tied up with one provision in particular: some artists may lose the ability to deduct work-related expenses.

 

Israel’s Expanding Permit Regime

How racial hierarchy and bureaucracy are reshaping Jerusalem.

by YAEL BERDA

Separation wall between Israel and Palestine, 2005. Photo by Dafna Kaplan. CC BY 2.0 via Flickr.

For Palestinians living outside Israel’s 1948 borders, life is precarious and heavily regulated by a persistent procedural violence that limits their freedom of movement and shapes daily life. In the West Bank, impediments on the freedom of movement take the form of physical checkpoints, roadblocks, and a massive network of walls and fences manned by heavily armed guards and state-of-the-art surveillance technology. For Jerusalemites who are not Israeli citizens but hold identity cards distributed to them when Israel annexed the eastern part of the city in 1967, mobility has been somewhat easier. And though maintaining life in Jerusalem presents a financial and political burden to many Palestinian families, it’s a hardship many take on, as they understand that living in Jerusalem protects them from the draconian permit regime that restricts the mobility of neighboring Palestinians in the West Bank. At least, such was the case until recently.

Today, Palestinians who are stateless, but residents of East Jerusalem face a new threat to their political rights and freedom of movement in the form of new legal and bureaucratic plans to reshape the city through the exclusion of hundreds of thousands of residents from its jurisdiction.

Palestinians who are stateless, but residents of East Jerusalem face a new threat to their political rights and freedom of movement.

The new plan is yet another instance in which the Israeli government has attempted to move Palestinians from East Jerusalem to the occupied West Bank. For decades, the policy of the Israeli Ministry of Interior was called the “silent transfer,” which consisted of ever-mounting procedural demands to prove one’s center of life was in Jerusalem, or have one's residency status revoked. The building of the separation wall in the early 2000s caused thousands of families who had lived in East Jerusalem, beyond the wall encircling the West Bank, to seek housing, work, and education within the wall. This put extreme pressure on education, sewage, and welfare infrastructure—systems that were underfunded and underdeveloped compared to their counterparts in Jewish Jerusalem.

Transparency on the Grassy Knoll

Government disclosures, like the release of the Kennedy files, do not improve public trust.

by MARK FENSTER

Public domain via Wikimedia Commons.

Surprisingly soon after the Warren Commission Report concluded that Lee Oswald acted alone in assassinating John F. Kennedy, a significant and growing segment of the American public began to speculate about alternative perpetrators whose actions the Warren Commission had covered up. In 1992, facing the persistence of that speculation, Congress enacted the statute that prompted the recent disclosures (and non-disclosures) of secret documents relating to the assassination. It hoped to assure the public that the government was not complicit in the assassination, and nor was it withholding evidence of a conspiracy, a hope that President Trump reiterated upon the documents’ release.

#JFKFiles pic.twitter.com/AnPBSJFh3J

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) October 28, 2017

The effort was a noble one. Congress designed a timed disclosure mandate that would allow the public to know more and theorize less. In the predominant telling of history from the 1960s on, the assassination had initiated the public’s radical doubt about the government’s actions and willingness to tell the truth. In its wake, various cottage industries have circulated theories about government conspiracies to cover up, among other things, all of the major assassinations of the 1960s (including those of Robert F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr. as well as that of President Kennedy), its relationship with alien visitors, the rise of a globalist “new world order,” the truth behind the 9/11 attacks, and the place of President Obama’s birth. Perhaps by cleaning out its archives, the federal government could reset the public’s view of government and rid us of this persistent tendency to find conspiracy everywhere.

Where Are You From?

How place determines race for racially in-between immigrants.

by NEDA MAGHBOULEH

Immigrants to the United States waiting for medical examination, circa 1912. Public domain via Wikipedia.

July 4, 2002, was a particularly humid Independence Day in Boston. It was the summer between my sophomore and junior years of college. I had stayed on campus to work, and for the first time my family had come to visit me in New England. That year, we found ourselves among the thousands of revelers who descended in undulating waves down to the banks of the Charles River to see the fireworks. My mom and little sister scrambled onto the first available patch of grass while I unrolled a blanket I had snatched off my twin-size dorm room bed hours earlier. My aunt unpacked almonds, cantaloupe, and soda from a plastic shopping bag; my dad, ambling slowly, as he does, brought up the rear.

As we fanned ourselves on the blanket, my parents discussed how twenty years earlier to the day they had boarded a Fourth of July flight to Portland, Oregon, with me, at nine months old, in tow. We were striking out on our own, away from New York City, where I was born and where, as new immigrants from Iran, my parents worked in a Persian rug store owned by my dad’s extended family.

For a long time, where an immigrant was “from” defined his or her ability to become an American.

That morning in Boston I was the last to notice the white woman on the next blanket over who was staring at us in disgust. She stared at my dad in particular, who in a bit of confusion politely smiled back at her between his bites of cantaloupe. She whispered something in her companion’s ear; they rolled up their blanket and left, flip-flop sandals smacking up and down against the ground. We didn’t see or think about the women for a few minutes until two men in sunglasses and cargo shorts began to walk in wide circles around our blanket. “Oh my God,” my mom whispered to me in Persian. “The cops are watching us.” The July humidity was already intense, but it began to feel suffocating. Within seconds, a uniformed police officer and his K-9 approached us.

Food Drive for the Aspiring Attorney

For-profit law schools are likely to remain unchallenged under Trump.

by RIAZ TEJANI

Public domain via Pixabay.

After centuries of exclusion from the legal profession and the justice system, ethnoracial and socioeconomic minorities are now welcome—at a very hefty cost. This was a key lesson I learned from years studying a US for-profit law program. Whereas school proprietors counted on a feast of unconditional federal student loan dollars, students assumed the risk of famine brought by non-dischargeable debt and limited job prospects. Students of one law school even faced literal hunger as their loan checks were temporarily suspended due to their school’s repeatedly poor performance.

For-profit law schools, once unheard of under the strict accreditation monopoly of the American Bar Association (ABA), suddenly became viable after a deregulatory policy shift in the 1990s. Following the lead of large for-profit colleges like the University of Phoenix, financiers powered by fresh interest in private equity investment created new law schools and branded them with a mission to “serve the underserved,” in other words to cater to minority and working-class communities long excluded from the legal profession and access to justice. Amid renewed, marketized interest in corporate and professional “diversity,” these schools attained ABA accreditation.

Despite accusations of predatory behavior, they could argue that no one else was so actively diversifying the legal community. When more and more students—especially minority graduates—failed to obtain Bar admission or gainful employment upon completion, school principals argued they had enabled market “access” for more minority legal professionals than anyone before.

Whereas school proprietors counted on a feast of unconditional federal student loan dollars, students assumed the risk of famine brought by non-dischargeable debt and limited job prospects.

Unacceptable Persuasion

The nonstop sell in the land of the free.

by MARK BARTHOLOMEW

Facebook reactions. CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons.

This May, documents from an internal Facebook report leaked to the press. In the report, Facebook executives boasted of Facebook’s ability to monitor posts and photos in real time to determine what young users are feeling and when. The company claimed that it could identify a host of emotions in its users, including “stressed,” “defeated,” “overwhelmed,” “anxious,” “nervous,” “stupid,” “silly,” “useless,” or feeling like a “failure.” It was implied that such information could be used by eager marketers, for the right price. Facebook initially apologized, admitting that it was wrong to target the emotional susceptibilities of young people. But it quickly backtracked, contending that the report was innocently meant “to help marketers understand how people express themselves on Facebook,” and that the analysis had not been operationalized to actually match ads to teenagers exhibiting these particular frailties.

The ability to accurately target consumers based on their individualized emotional states represents a potential game changer for commercial persuasion.

The leaked report reveals a new front in the longstanding battle between advertisers and consumers. As with many other profitable entities of the new millennium, Facebook’s business model depends on convincing businesses that it offers a new, more effective and efficient means of reaching potential customers. Advertising revenue is the lifeblood that pumps through Facebook’s corporate veins. Advertisers have long tried to capitalize on audience insecurities. Mouthwash and toothpaste makers tell us that our love lives and job prospects hang in the balance if we do not confront the specter of halitosis. Super Bowl ads feature cute babies, triggering concerns about the safety of our children to the benefit of tire makers and life insurance companies. But the ability to accurately target consumers based on their individualized emotional states represents a potential game changer for commercial persuasion.

Adcreep » mounts a damning critique of the modern American legal system's failure to stem the flow of invasive advertising.

Emotional segmenting is just one new strategy employed by advertisers today. Location-tracking technologies shadow shoppers, enabling the delivery of ads at critical moments. A thriving marketplace for celebrity selling on social media leverages the sociality and seeming spontaneity of Twitter and Instagram to camouflage the mercenary motives of brand spokespersons. Meanwhile market research is increasingly turning away from the conscious dialogue of focus group interviews, instead using neuroscience to measure our unconscious, involuntary biological responses to products and advertising.

Emerging tactics of commercial persuasion, from algorithms to consumer surveillance, may yield strong returns for marketers, but they show little respect for human autonomy. This raises the question, how should the law deal with marketing innovations that threaten to upset the balance of power between advertisers and consumers? This is a difficult question, but reformers do not need to start from scratch: A sophisticated legal apparatus already exists to balance commercial freedom with consumer protection. In trying to understand the law’s response to the marketing technologies of today, I examined a century of skirmishes between advertisers, consumers, and legal actors in the United States. These battles over marketing innovation have created a sprawling ecosystem of laws and governmental and private regulators.

Evaluating Activism

Activists would do well to borrow from the tenets of advocacy and policy change evaluation to enhance their efforts.

by ANNETTE L. GARDNER and CLAIRE D. BRINDIS

Images (left to right) from the 2014 New York City Climate March (CC BY-SA 4.0), the 2017 March for Science (CC BY-SA 3.0), and the 2017 Women's March (public domain). 

The 2016 election has embroiled the United States in political upheaval, the likes of which have not been seen in recent times. The politics of inclusion are competing head-on with those of division, and political rancor runs high. Advocacy is now front and center, with much of it being creative and engaging, but not all of it. Considered a critical means for expanding democracy, this broad swath of political actors, whom we call “advocates,” are bringing to bear their influence, using traditional strategies and tactics, such as organizing protests and showing up in force at town hall meetings. However, without thoughtful reflection, advocacy strategies are unlikely to result in the policy mobilization and impact that they intend; those who seek greater social justice will be thwarted in their efforts unless they more fully understand what is effective in mobilizing communities and shaping public and political opinion.

Advocacy and Policy Change Evaluation » looks at the concepts, designs, methods, and tools needed to conduct effective advocacy and policy change evaluations.

This is where evaluation comes in. Skilled evaluators have long been at work designing appropriate evaluations to meet diverse needs: increased foundation interest in supporting advocacy and policy change initiatives to achieve systems change; evaluation of democracy-building initiatives worldwide; and diffusion of advocacy capacity beyond the traditional advocacy community. Evaluators have met many of these needs with good success, building a new field of evaluation practice, adapting and creating evaluation concepts and methods, and shaping advocate, funder, and evaluator thinking on advocacy and policy change in all its diverse manifestations. We predict the field will only continue to grow and evolve, and those aiming to effect political change, whether at the grassroots, or institutionally, would do well to borrow from the tenets of advocacy and policy change evaluation to guide and enhance their efforts.

Those seeking to bring about policy change need to be prepared to evaluate a broad range of advocacy strategies and tactics to be effective.