/ 9 March 2011

Who will mend our broken windows?

The spectacular decline of crime in New York in the late Nineties has been attributed to many things and some theories are more controversial than others.

The central theme of the approach, though, has its origins in a seminal article published by The Atlantic in 1982, written by two academics, James Wilson, who was professor of government at Harvard, and George Kelling, professor of criminal justice at Rutgers University.

They penned the article out of a grave concern about the increase in crime and what ought to be the role of police officers in law enforcement. They maintained that the central role of police was to prevent crime, not solve crimes that had already been committed. Their groundbreaking essay has informed public policy in the United States for many years. It centres on what they termed the “broken windows” thesis.

This is the gist of it: “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,” they wrote.

“This is as true in nice neighbourhoods 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.”

I was prompted to reflect on the wise words of Wilson and Kelling as we faced another deluge of rather worrying reports in the country. There are broken windows in so many aspects of South African society at the moment.

Cranks in the window
These don’t just relate to the violent criminal activity that we have become accustomed to. It emerges that business people and rent-seekers have insinuated themselves into the highest levels of government to such an extent that they are allegedly calling the shots on crucial public-sector appointments and placing themselves in advantageous positions for lucrative contracts. Surely this is a crack in the window that will shatter?

The racist bile that is being spewed forth in some quarters also breaks us. The musician and activist Steve Hofmeyr will have us believe that blacks are bloodthirsty, murdering thieves who have it in for the white farmer. The Sunday World columnist and one-time “it” girl, Kuli Roberts, rages nonsensically about the supposed drug habits and procreation patterns of coloured people.

Freedom of speech is one thing — provocative and robust commentary is central to a lively public discourse — but incendiary tirades, which are tantamount to incitement of hatred, are not. They break windows. Who will fix them? Does anyone care? Or will these ills go untended, leaving us derelict?

There is a danger in South Africa that with the onslaught of worrying societal trends and escalating reports of malfeasance we could grow complacent and fatigued to a point where we shrug our shoulders, hoping someone else will speak up or sort it out.

There is no room for this, however. Vigilance must be maintained. It is encouraging to see there are those who are determined to do the repairs and sweep up the shards of the broken or breaking edifices.

Cosatu’s Zwelinzima Vavi has been outspoken about what he calls “political hyenas”. The ANC Youth League leader Julius Malema has also been emphatic on this matter, decrying “families enriching themselves at the expense of the state”. The public protector, Thuli Madonsela, has also sought to repair what she found wanting in the contentious lease agreement for the SAPS headquarters.

The Competition Commission continues to tackle industry on its ruinous collusion and anti-competitive behaviour which, more often than not, hits the poor the hardest. And Ferial Haffajee has stepped in, demanding that Roberts’s vitriolic pen be taken away from her.

Those who are speaking up may be our only hope that South Africa’s broken windows get repaired before the whole country cracks.