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Personalities in the Crowd: The Idea of the “Masses” in American Popular Culture

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  30 July 2009

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“There are no masses,” Raymond Williams wisely reminds us, “there are only ways of seeing people as masses.” This idea of the social crowd, usually organic and with a mind of its own, rarely is used self-referentially; “masses” always describes others. During and immediately following World War I, American intellectuals, especially social theorists, were preoccupied with this new model for society. Authoritarian regimes abroad, America's own wartime hysteria (fueled by new communications technologies), the insistent urban context, and a consumer-based economy all made discussion of crowd behavior and mass persuasion an obvious product of new circumstances. Newer fields of sociology, psychology, and behaviorism, promised the necessary tools for understanding these “phenomena.” Walter Lippmann's Public Opinion (1922) was but the most popular and enduring in a genre that drew upon earlier native and European theorists like Gustave Le Bon, E. A. Ross, Boris Sidis, and William Trotter. By 1925, the American library on the mass mind included The Behavior of Crowds (Everett Dean Martin), Social Psychology (Floyd Henry Allport), and Introduction to the Science of Sociology (Robert E. Park and Ernest W. Burgess). This new body of work distinguished “the concept of the mass, a dispersed and passive body of uprooted individuals, from the pre-World War I concept of the crowd, a physically united and active throng.” The bestremembered effect of these ideas, upon the likes of H. L. Mencken, Walter Lippman, and other leading critics, was a skepticism about democracy's survival in the face of such new knowledge. But the idea of the “masses” had another life, outside of more formal circles, among Americans who were not so quick to decry a “boobocracy,” or perhaps more important and long-lasting, in the rising industries of mass communication and popular culture.

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Research Article
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Copyright © Cambridge University Press 1994

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References

NOTES

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34. More than once, the NSL even accused the CPI and Creel of aiding the enemy with an all too open information policy. Creel always insisted, both during and after the war, that censorship came, not from Washington, but from “the intolerances and bigotries of individual communities” (Creel, , “Public Opinion,” p. 192).Google Scholar

35. The ambiguities of CPI activities have occupied several scholars. For the debates on the committee's pro's and cons, see Vaughn, , Holding FastGoogle Scholar; Mock, James R. and Larson, Cedrick, Words That Won the War: The Story of the Committee on Public Information (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1939)Google Scholar; and the relevant chapters in Kennedy, , Over Here.Google Scholar

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38. In addition to a number of Madison Avenue reputations that would be made during wartime, Edward Bernays and Carl Byoir, the giants of twenties public relations, were trained by the CPI.

39. Creel often made it quite clear that European restrictions on information were tactically and philosophically antiquated, for they only bred popular suspicion of government, making the country more susceptible to enemy propaganda, and revealed a “distrust” of democratic common sense” (Official Bulletin 1 [06 2, 1917]: p. 13).Google Scholar

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48. Public support for the Central Powers before 1917 was common in all areas of American society, but it was most noticeable among Eastern Europea emigres. In this sense, the fear of conflicting loyalties had some foundation, though, as I am trying to show here, it suggested a broader fear of democratic and pluralistic inadequacies.

49. One common explanation of CPI involvement in the spy mania contends that liberal assimilationists from the old reform order, like Creel and even pacifist Jane Addams, were simply overcome by popular chauvinism and the bigotry of “100% Americanism” (see Vaughn, , Holding Fast, pp. 6769Google Scholar). Mock and Larsen and Kennedy express similar views in their respective studies. Creel himself always decried the excesses of the gangs that harassed immigrants during and after wartime.

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54. Quoted in Mock, and Larson, , Words That Won, p. 116.Google Scholar

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57. One especially striking poster, “Save Food and Defeat Frightfulness” (by “PAUS”), made free use of social and ethnic visual types to represent a vision of all of humanity suffering and hanging from an immense Iron Cross. It was simply representative of a wartime poster style that assumed a certain visual literacy among all Americans. The free play and often surreal use of symbol, as well as the absence of all but the barest written slogan, make clear the progress made by the use of the image as a common language.

58. See Riesenberg's “Lend as They Fight” and Clyde Forsyth's “And They Thought We Couldn't Fight.”

59. Until the war, images of the machine tended to adopt a dutifully scientific regard for detail and accuracy of proportion. This was a remarkable shift in poster art during the war, for artists incorporated technology into the same colorful, often cartoonish style that seemed to inform much of their technique with human figures.

60. The shift between artistic style, from the first to the second war, is apparent even superficially. By comparison, World War II posters were drab and uninspiring, preferring photorealism to the abstractions of the brush.

61. “They Kept the Sea Lanes Open” places the viewer on a gunship during the attack. In another, we are in the trenches as a hapless gunner reaches toward us asking for “Ammunition.” F. Strothman, “Beat Back the Hun,” physically confronts us with a German soldier and his bloodied knife.

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63. In the hundreds of posters surveyed for this study, only two or three even approached a wartime landscape comprising more than five people.

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72. It is revealing that Creel spent much of the next decade writing about heroes of the American past.

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76. Ernest Jones points out that Freud greatly disliked Ely Bernays, who, not surprisingly, seemed to fit his model of Victorian inhibition. Nonetheless, Eddie's uncle remained civil to the brother-in-law and always affable with his nephew, though Bernays often overstated the closeness of the relationship (Jones, Ernest, The Life and Work of Sigmund Freud [New York: Basic, 1953], vol. 1, p. 119.Google Scholar

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84. Lee, Ivy, Publicity: Some of the Things It Is and Is Not (New York: Industries, 1925), p. 23Google Scholar. Goldman offers a simple but sound model for understanding the profession's evolution: late-19th century hawkers ascribed to “fool the people”; Lee moved to “inform the people”; and Bernays prescribed that business “listen to the people” (Goldman, , Two-Way Street, p. 19).Google Scholar

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86. Goldman, , Two-Way Street, p. 11.Google Scholar

87. Eric Goldman has counted at least 28 titles on the subject between 1917 and 1925, a published bibliography, and the introduction of the term “public opinion” in the 1920 edition of Webster's (see Two-Way Street, pp. 1314).Google Scholar

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94. This aspect of Bernays' thought is highlighted in an interview with him during his last years, though by this point he seemed to have arrived at even more extreme views. See Olasky, Marvin, “Bringing 'Order Out of Chaos1: Edward Bernays and the Salvation of Society Through Public Relations,” Journalism History 12 (Spring 1985): 1721.Google Scholar

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115. In his autobiography, Bernays seems almost gleeful over convincing Georgia O'Keefe, via her husband Alfred Steiglitz, to do illustrating for a dress firm. So, too, did he reform the likes of Pierre Cartier and Jacques Seligmann, two salesmen to the aristocracy who were convinced of the uses of public relations.

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149. After being made vice-president in 1924, and until his departure from J. Walter Thompson in 1936, Watson spent time researching the market for various companies and products: General Motors, Johnson & Johnson (Baby Powder), Pebeco toothpaste, and Pond's (Thompson, J. Walter Archives memo, Sandecki, A. V., 11 11, 1982)Google Scholar. According to Stephen Fox, Resor and Watson shared a philosophical lineage that is worth noting. Resor, too, had become enamored with William Graham Sumner, when he was at Yale, and, like Watson, went into advertising with a rather bleak vision of man as an animal of impulse, not thought, desire, not belief (Fox, , Mirror Makers, p. 83).Google Scholar

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181. Watson, John B. (with Rosalie Rayner Watson), Psychological Care of Infant and Child (New York: Norton, 1928), p. 150Google Scholar. George Dorsey's popular tract tried to make a similar point, that man could be both diverse and socially useful.

182. Watson, , Psychology from the Standpoint, p. 401.Google Scholar

183. On one notable occasion, he complained that there was altogether too much emphasis upon freedom of speech, and that society had the ultimate right to regulate itself.

184. The book's influence was far greater than its sales, impressive though they were. While professional psychologists denounced its methods, and, as always, Watson himself, the book sold over 100,000 copies, was recommended to parents by Parents Magazine and the Atlantic, and eventually influenced the U.S. Department of Health's own guide to childrearing. Most Americans probably read excerpts and revisions, which saturated popular magazines.

185. Watson, , Behaviorism [1925], p. 82.Google Scholar

186. Watson's obsession with an orderly schedule, cleanliness, and even the importance of regular bowel habits took absurd shape in a proposed timetable for childhood, in which virtually ever minute was assigned a useful purpose (Watson, , Psychological Care, pp. 9, 114–35).Google Scholar

187. Watson, , Psychological Care, pp. 9, 141, 146.Google Scholar

188. Watson, , Psychological Care, p. 150.Google Scholar

189. Watson, , Psychological Care, p. 186.Google Scholar

190. “Man's ancestor won his freedom not so much by specialization as because he kept his plasticity, extended his wits, and improved control” (Dorsey, , Why We Behave, p. 70)Google Scholar. For a short while in the mid-1920s, Dorsey, whose book was remarkably popular, almost eclipsed Watson as the authority on behaviorism.

191. Lears, T. J. Jackson, No Place of Grace: Antimodernism and the Transformation of American Culture, 1880–1920 (New York: Pantheon, 1981), passim.Google Scholar

192. Watson, , Psychology from the Standpoint, p. 330.Google Scholar

193. Watson had addressed the problem as early as 1919: “In our opinion conditioned love responses, especially those directed towards the mother and father, breeding too great dependence upon the parents as they do, are probably the most sinister factors in the whole system of human organization” (Psychology from the Standpoint, p. 235Google Scholar; see also “Urges Plan to Train Children,” New York Times, 03 4, 1928, sec. 2, p. 6.Google Scholar

194. Watson, , Psychology from the Standpoint, pp. 247–48.Google Scholar

195. Ironically, much of Watson's advice to parents leaned toward leniency rather than punishment. “A calmer mode of behavior,” he believed, “would enable the child, and the adult it is to become, to conquer the environment instead of being conquered by it” (Watson, , Psychological Care, p. 43).Google Scholar

196. Watson, , Psychology from the Standpoint, p. 8.Google Scholar

197. “Invalidism,” as Watson called it, was a modern scourge that he linked directly to “overaffection” in childhood, presumably fostering an inability to confront the hard knocks of life (Watson, , Psychological Care, p. 76).Google Scholar

198. Meyer, Donald, The Positive Thinkers: Religion as Pop Psychology from Mary Baker Eddy to Oral Roberts (1965; rept. New York: Pantheon, 1980), pp. xvixvii.Google Scholar

199. Watson, , Behaviorism, p. 200n.Google Scholar

200. Dorsey, , Why We Behave, p. 341.Google Scholar

201. Watson, , “Heart or Intellect?” p. 352.Google Scholar

202. Watson, , Psychological Care, p. 59.Google Scholar

203. Watson, , Psychology from the Standpoint, p. 238.Google Scholar

204. Collins, Frederick L., “Knock Wood!Colliers 78 (10 23, 1926): 28.Google Scholar

205. Susman, Warren I., “‘Personality’ and the Making of Twentieth Century Culture,” in Culture as History: Transformation of American Society in the Twentieth Century (New York: Pantheon, 1984), pp. 273–74, 277.Google Scholar

206. Watson, who always waffled between the complexity of human behavior and its basic simplicity, was unsure about the possibility of adult behavior modification. At times he insisted that the web of adult psychology was so involved and obscured by time that changing it substantially was nigh impossible. Nonetheless, he never lost sight of his philosophy's chief public appeal, and in the thirties much of his work promised self-transformation as well as the manipulation of others.

207. Watson, John B., “How to Grow a Personality: Address by John B. Watson, in the Psychology Series Sponsored by the National Advisory Council in Education” (Chicago: n.p., 1932), p. 9.Google Scholar

208. Watson, , “How to Grow,” p. 3.Google Scholar

209. Watson, John B., “It's Your Own Fault,” Collier's 82 (12 22, 1928): 34.Google Scholar

210. , L. J. P., “Parents Take Your Choice,” Outlook 149 (05 23, 1928): 154, 155.Google Scholar

211. Watson, John B., “What Is Behaviorism?Harper's Magazine 152 (05 1926): 725.Google Scholar

212. “There is no inherent reason,” George Dorsey insisted, “why the miner, plowman, and milkmaid should not be as intellectual as the poet, auditor, or school teacher” (Dorsey, , Why We Behave, p. 472)Google Scholar. Watson himself occasionally addressed issues of race and sex, insisting that worldly competence, which immigrant minorities, blacks, and women were supposed to lack, was socially conditioned rather than genetic. Eugenic tampering, he once claimed, “is more dangerous than bolshevism” (Watson, , “The Behaviorist Looks at Instincts,” Harper's 155 (02 1928): p. 229).Google Scholar

213. Donald Meyer has found that members of the “mind-cure” fringe movements seemed to detect this problem early on. Julia Seton, an early self-help writer, understood that ascendancy of “personality” over “character,” “threaten[ed] a split in the self, between inner and outer, private and public,” transforming the self into a theatrical presentation rather than an expression of essential nature (Meyer, , Positive Thinkers, p. 115).Google Scholar

214. Watson's conception of life's two worlds was often inconsistent. At times he seemed to covet a necessary and separate private life, while on other occasions he suggested that such a divide was precisely the problem with an out-of-place Victorian sensibility (see Watson, , Psychological Care, pp. 161–69).Google Scholar

215. Overstreet, H. A., Influencing Human Behavior, p. 3.Google Scholar

216. Overstreet, , Influencing Human Behavior, p. 11.Google Scholar

217. Watson, John B., “Influencing the Mind of Another” (address delivered to the Advertising Club of Montreal), J. Walter Thompson Archives, 1935, p. 2.Google Scholar

218. Watson, , “Influencing the Mind,” p. 3.Google Scholar