Social Capital and Civil  Society
Francis Fukuyama
The Institute of Public  Policy
George Mason University
October 1, 1999  
Prepared  for delivery at the _IMF  Conference on Second Generation 
Reforms_ (https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/index.htm)  
Contents 
    1.  _What  is Social Capital?_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#I)   
    2.  _What  Functions Does Social Capital Play in a Free-Market Liberal  
Democracy?_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#II)   
    3.  _How  Do We Measure Social Capital?_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#III)   
    4.  _Where  Does Social Capital Come From?_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#IV)   
    5.  _How  Can We Increase the Stock of Social Capital?_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#V)   

Figure 
    *   _Figure  I. Networks of Trust_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#figI) 

 
____________________________________
Social  capital is important to the efficient functioning of modern 
economies, and  is the sine qua  non of stable liberal  democracy. It 
constitutes 
the cultural component of modern societies,  which in other respects have 
been organized since the Enlightenment on the  basis of formal institutions, 
the rule of law, and rationality. Building  social capital has typically been 
seen as a task for "second generation"  economic reform; but unlike economic 
policies or even economic  institutions, social capital cannot be so easily 
created or shaped by  public policy. This paper will define social capital, 
explore its economic  and political functions, as well as its origins, and 
make some suggestions  for how it can be cultivated. I.  What  is Social 
Capital? 
While  social capital has been given a number of different definitions, 
many of  them refer to manifestations of social capital rather than to social  
capital itself. The definition I will use in this paper is: social capital  
is an instantiated informal norm that promotes cooperation between two or  
more individuals. The norms that constitute social capital can range from  a 
norm of reciprocity between two friends, all the way up to complex and  
elaborately articulated doctrines like Christianity or Confucianism. They  must 
be instantiated in an actual human relationship: the norm of  reciprocity 
exists in  potentia in my dealings  with all people, but is actualized only in 
my dealings with my friends. By this definition,  trust, networks, civil 
society, and the like which have been associated  with social capital are all 
epiphenominal, arising as a result of social  capital but not constituting 
social capital itself. 
Not  just any set of instantiated norms constitutes social capital; they 
must  lead to cooperation in groups and therefore are related to traditional  
virtues like honesty, the keeping of commitments, reliable performance of  
duties, reciprocity, and the like. A norm like the one described by Edward  
Banfield as characterizing southern Italy, which enjoins individuals to  
trust members of their immediate nuclear family but to take advantage of  
everyone else, is clearly not the basis of social capital outside the  
family._1_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#1)  
James  Coleman, who was responsible for bringing the term social capital 
into  wider use in recent years, once argued that it was a public good and  
therefore would be underproduced by private agents interacting in  markets._2_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#2)  
This is clearly wrong: since  cooperation is necessary to virtually all 
individuals as a means of  achieving their selfish ends, it stands to reason 
that they will produce  it as a private good (see Section IV below). In Partha 
Dasgupta's phrase,  social capital is a private good that is nonetheless 
pervaded by  externalities, both positive and negative._3_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#3)  An 
example of a 
positive  externality is Puritanism's injunction, described by Max Weber, to 
treat  all people morally, and not just members of the sib or family._4_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#4)  The 
potential for cooperation  thus spreads beyond the immediate group of people 
sharing Puritan norms.  Negative externalities abound, as well. Many groups 
achieve internal  cohesion at the expense of outsiders, who can be treated 
with suspicion,  hostility, or outright hatred. Both the Ku Klux Klan and the 
Mafia achieve  cooperative ends on the basis of shared norms, and therefore 
have social  capital, but they also produce abundant negative externalities 
for the  larger society in which they are embedded. 
It  is sometimes argued that social capital differs from other forms of  
capital because it leads to bad results like hate groups or inbred  
bureaucracies. This does not disqualify it as a form of capital; physical  
capital can 
take the form of assault rifles or tasteless entertainment,  while human 
capital can be used to devise new ways of torturing people.  Since societies 
have laws to prevent the production of many social "bads,"  we can presume 
that most legal forms of social capital are no less "goods"  than the other 
forms of capital insofar as they help people achieve their  aims. 
Perhaps  the reason that that social capital seems less obviously a social 
good  than physical or human capital is because it tends to produce more in 
the  way of negative externalities than either of the other two forms. This 
is  because group solidarity in human communities is often purchased at the  
price of hostility towards out-group members. There appears to be a  
natural human proclivity for dividing the world into friends and enemies  that 
is 
the basis of all politics._5_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#5)  It 
is thus very important when  measuring 
social capital to consider its true utility net of its  externalities. 
Another  way of approaching this question is through the concept of the 
"radius of  trust."_6_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#6)  All 
groups embodying social  capital have a certain 
radius of trust, that is, the circle of people  among whom cooperative norms 
are 
operative. If a group's social capital  produces positive externalities, 
the radius of trust can be larger than  the group itself. It is also possible 
for the radius of trust to be  smaller than the membership of the group, as 
in large organiza-tions that  foster cooperative norms only among the 
group's leadership or permanent  staff. A modern society may be thought of as a 
series of concentric and  overlapping radii of trust (see _Figure  I_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#figI) 
). 
These can range from friends and cliques up through NGOs and  religious groups. 
Virtually  all forms of traditional culture-social groups like tribes, 
clans, village  associations, religious sects, etc.-are based on shared norms 
and use  these norms to achieve cooperative ends. The literature on 
development has  not, as a general rule, found social capital in this form to 
be an 
asset;  it is much more typically regarded as a liability. Economic 
modernization  was seen as antithetical to traditional culture and social 
organizations,  and would either wipe them away or else be itself blocked by 
forces of  
traditionalism. Why should this be so, if social capital is genuinely a  
form of capital?  
 
The  reason, in my view, has to do with the fact that such groups have a 
narrow  radius of trust. In-group solidarity reduces the ability of group 
members  to cooperate with outsiders, and often imposes negative externalities 
on  the latter. For example, in the Chinese parts of East Asia and much of  
Latin America, social capital resides largely in families and a rather  
narrow circle of personal friends._7_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#7)  It 
is difficult for people to  trust those 
outside of these narrow circles. Strangers fall into a  different category 
than kin; a lower standard of moral behavior applies  when one becomes, for 
example, a public officials. This provides cultural  reinforcement for 
corruption: in such societies, one feels entitled to  steal on behalf of one's 
family.  
Traditional  social groups are also afflicted with an absence of what Mark 
Granovetter  calls "weak ties,"_8_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#8)  
that is, heterodox individuals at  the 
periphery of the society's various social networks who are able to  move 
between groups and thereby become bearers of new ideas and  information. 
Traditional societies are often segmentary, that is, they are  composed of a 
large 
number of identical, self-contained social units like  villages or tribes. 
Modern societies, by contrast, consist of a large  number of overlapping 
social groups that permit multiple memberships and  identities. Traditional 
societies have fewer opportunities for weak ties  among the segments that make 
it 
up, and therefore pass on information,  innovation, and human resources 
less easily. II.  What Functions Does Social Capital Play in a  Free-Market 
Liberal Democracy? 
The  economic function of social capital is to reduce the transaction costs 
 associated with formal coordination mechanisms like contracts,  
hierarchies, bureaucratic rules, and the like. It is of course possible to  
achieve 
coordinated action among a group of people possessing no social  capital, but 
this would presumably entail additional transaction costs of  monitoring, 
negotiating, litigating, and enforcing formal agreements. No  contract can 
possibly specify every contingency that may arise between the  parties; most 
presuppose a certain amount of goodwill that prevents the  parties from taking 
advantage of unforeseen loopholes. Contracts that do  seek to try to 
specify all contingencies-like the job-control labor pacts  negotiated in the 
auto 
industry that were as thick as telephone books-end  up being very 
inflexible and costly to enforce. 
There  was a period when social scientists assumed that modernization 
necessarily  entailed the progressive replacement of informal coordination 
mechanisms  with formal ones. There was presumably a period in human history in 
which  formal law and organizations scarcely existed, and in which social 
capital  was the only means of achieving coordinated action; Max Weber argued 
that,  by contrast, rational bureaucracy constituted the essence of  
modernity. 
The  fact of the matter is that coordination based on informal norms 
remains an  important part of modern economies, and arguably becomes more 
important as  the nature of economic activity becomes more complex and 
technologically  sophisticated._9_ (https://www.imf.org
/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#9)  Many complex services 
are very  costly to monitor and 
are better controlled through internalized  professional standards than 
through formal monitoring mechanisms. A highly  educated software engineer 
often 
knows much more about his or her own  productivity than his or her 
supervisor; procurement is often more  efficient when left to the judgment of 
an 
experienced procurement officer,  rather than being done "by the book" as in 
the case of a good deal of  government procurement. A number of empirical 
studies suggest that  high-tech R&D is often dependent on the informal exchange 
of  intellectual property rights, simply because formal exchange would 
entail  excessive transaction costs and slow down the speed of interchange._10_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#10)  
Even  in non-hi-tech environments, social capital often leads to greater  
efficiency than purely formal coordination techniques. Classical  Taylorism, 
which organized workplaces in a highly centralized,  bureaucratized manner, 
created many inefficiencies as decisions were  delayed and information 
distorted while moving up and down hierarchical  chains of command. In many 
manufacturing facilities, Taylorism has been  replaced by much flatter 
management 
structures which in effect push  responsibility down to the factory floor 
itself. Workers who are much  closer to the sources of local knowledge are 
authorized to make decisions  on their own, rather than referring them up a 
managerial hierarchy. This  often leads to great gains in efficiency,_11_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#11)  
but 
is totally dependent on the  social capital of the workforce. If there is 
distrust between workers and  managers, or widespread opportunism, then the 
delegation of authority  required in a typical "lean" manufacturing system 
will lead to instant  paralysis. This is in effect what happened to General 
Motors during the  strikes of 1996 and 1998, when a single dissident local 
(angry, in the  first instance, over the outsourcing of brake parts) was able 
to shut down  the company's entire North American operations._12_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#12)  
The  political function of social capital in a modern democracy was best  
elucidated by Alexis de Tocqueville in Democracy in America, who  used the 
phrase the "art of association" to describe Americans' propensity  for civil 
association. According to Tocqueville, a modern democracy tends  to wipe away 
most forms of social class or inherited status that bind  people together 
in aristocratic societies. Men are left equally free, but  weak in their 
equality since they are born with no conventional  attachments. The vice of 
modern democracy is to promote excessive  individualism, that is, a 
preoccupation with one's private life and  family, and an unwillingness to 
engage in 
public affairs. Americans  combated this tendency towards excessive 
individualism by their propensity  for voluntary association, which led them to 
form 
groups both trivial and  important for all aspects of their lives. This stood 
in sharp contrast to  his native France, which was beset by a much more 
thoroughgoing  individualism than the United States. As Tocqueville explained 
in 
The Old Regime and the French  Revolution, on the eve of the Revolution 
"there were not ten Frenchmen  who could come together for a common cause." It 
was only by coming  together in civil associations that weak individuals 
became strong; the  associations they formed could either participate directly 
in political  life (as in the case of a political party or interest group) 
or could  serve as "schools of citizenship" where individuals learned the 
habits of  cooperation that would eventually carry over into public life. 
An  abundant stock of social capital is presumably what produces a dense 
civil  society, which in turn has been almost universally seen as a necessary  
condition for modern liberal democracy (in Ernest Gellner's phrase, "no  
civil society, no democracy")._13_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#13)  If 
a democracy is in fact  liberal, it 
maintains a protected sphere of individual liberty where the  state is 
constrained from interfering. If such a political system is not  to degenerate 
into 
anarchy, the society that subsists in that protected  sphere must be capable 
of organizing itself. Civil society serves to  balance the power of the 
state and to protect individuals from the state's  power. 
In  the absence of civil society, the state often needs to step in to 
organize  individuals who are incapable of organizing themselves. The result of 
 
excessive individualism is therefore not freedom, but rather the tyranny  of 
what Tocqueville saw as a large and benevolent state that hovered over  
society and, like a father, saw to all of its needs. Low levels of social  
capital lead to a number of political dysfunctions, which have been  
extensively 
documented. Following Tocqueville's analysis of France, many  observers 
have noted how administrative centralization has led to an  excessively rigid 
and unresponsive political system, one that can be  changed only through 
anti-systemic upsurges such as the évenements of 1968._14_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#14)  
Low levels of social 
capital have  been linked to inefficient local government in southern 
Italy, as well as  to the region's pervasive corruption._15_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#15)  In 
many Latin 
American societies,  a narrow radius of trust produces a two-tier moral system, 
with good  behavior reserved for family and personal friends, and a decidedly 
lower  standard of behavior in the public sphere. This serves as a cultural 
 foundation for corruption, which is often regarded as a legitimate way of  
looking after one's family. 
It  is of course also possible to have too much of a good thing. One 
person's  civic engagement is another's rent-seeking; much of what constitutes 
civil  society can be described as interest groups trying to divert public  
resources to their favored causes, whether sugar-beet farming, women's  health 
care, or the protection of biodiversity. The public choice  literature has 
analyzed the baleful consequences of rent-seeking for  modern democracies at 
great length; Mancur Olson has argued that Britain's  long-term economic 
decline was due to the long-term buildup of entrenched  interest groups 
there._16_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#16)  
There is no guarantee that  self-styled public interest NGOs actually 
represent real public interests.  It is entirely possible that too active an 
NGO sector may represent an  excessive politicization of public life, which 
can either distort public  policy or lead to deadlock._17_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#17)  
Despite  the possibility that a society has have too much social capital, 
it is  doubtless worse to have too little. For in addition to being a source 
of  spontaneously-organized groups, social capital is vital to the proper  
functioning of formal public institutions. It is sometimes argued that it  is 
more useful to compare societies in institutional rather than cultural  
terms. Chalmers Johnson, for example, argues that differences in Japanese  and 
American economic policy is not culturally based, but simply the  result of 
the fact that Japan had MITI and the United States did  not._18_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#18)  
The 
implication is that were the  US to create an equivalent of MITI in Washington, 
it 
would have similar  consequences. But there are any number of reasons for 
thinking that  different societies have different cultural capacities for  
institution-building. Japan's deployment of an economic planning agency  with 
enormous power over credit allocation did not lead to the same levels  of 
rent-seeking and outright corruption that comparable agencies have  brought 
about in Latin America or Africa (or indeed the US, were it to  follow Japan's 
example). This is testimony to a number of Japanese  cultural 
characteristics: the respect given bureaucrats, their high level  of training 
and 
professionalism, the general deference to authority in  Japanese society, etc., 
and 
it suggests that some institutions cannot be  readily transferred to other 
societies lacking social capital. III.  How Do We Measure Social  Capital? 
One  of the greatest weaknesses of the social capital concept is the 
absence of  consensus on how to measure it. At least two broad approaches have 
been  taken: the first, to conduct a census of groups and group memberships in 
a  given society, and the second, to use survey data on levels of trust and  
civic engagement. At the end of this section, I will suggest a third  
metric that may point to a measure of social capital within private firms.  
Robert Putnam has tried to measure social capital by counting groups in  civil 
society, using a number n to track size of memberships in sports  clubs, 
bowling leagues, literary societies, political clubs, and the like  as they 
vary 
over time and across different geographical regions. There  are, in fact, a 
large number of n's in any given society,  n1..t. Hence the first measure 
for the total social capital  (SC) in a society is the sum of the membership 
of all groups, 
(1)   SC  =  n1..t. 
Both  n and t are important measures of civil society. A small value for n 
may  limit the kinds of ends a group can achieve; families, for example, are 
 good at socializing children and running family restaurants, but not very  
good at exerting political influence or manufacturing semiconductors. The  
variable t itself constitutes a separate of measure of civil society;  
unfortunately, limitations in the data prohibit our knowing what t is for  a 
given society, or how many missing or undercounted data elements there  are 
between n1 and nt. A number of  attempts have been made to produce censuses of 
groups and associations in  the United States. One was done by the US 
Department of Commerce in 1949,  which estimated that there were 201,000 
nonprofit 
voluntary trade and  business organizations, women's groups, labor unions, 
civic service  groups, luncheon clubs, and professional groups at all levels 
of American  society._19_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#19)  
Lester Salamon estimates that by  1989 there were 
1.14 million nonprofits in the US, indicating an overall  rate of growth 
much higher than that of the population as a whole._20_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#20)  
The 
near-impossibility of  producing a complete census that catalogues the whole 
range of 
informal  networks and cliques in a modern society is suggested by the Yankee 
City  
study, which counted some 22,000 different groups in a community of 17,000  
people._21_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#21)  
Changing technology changes forms  of association: how do we 
account for the proliferation of on-line  discussion groups, chat rooms, and 
e-mail conversations that have exploded  with the spread of personal 
computers in the 1990s?_22_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#22)  
N  and t may also be inversely correlated (that is, the larger the average  
size of groups, the fewer there are); on the other hand, because  
individuals can hold overlapping memberships in multiple groups, they need  not 
be. 
It  is clear that each of these n1..t groups is characterized by a  
different level of internal cohesion and therefore collective action.  Bowling 
leagues are not capable of storming beaches or lobbying Congress,  so some 
qualitative coefficient must be added to provide some measure of  cohesion. Let 
us call this coefficient c. Unfortunately, there is no  accepted method for 
measuring the internal cohesiveness of groups; each  one of the c 
coefficients would have to be determined subjectively by an  outside observer 
who would 
note the types of activities the group could  undertake and their 
difficulty, its cohesion under stressful  circumstances, and other factors. 
Despite 
the subjective nature of its  derivation, it is clear that c varies across 
groups and is a critical  qualitative measure of social capital. Hence a 
society's total stock of  social capital would be expressed  as   (2)   SC =  
(cn)1..t.  
As  noted above, social capital is more heavily pervaded by externalities 
than  other forms of capital, so measurement of a nation's stock of social  
capital must take these externalities into account. The radius of trust  can 
be thought of as a type of positive externality (which we will  therefore 
designate as rp) because it is a benefit that accrues  to the group 
independently of the collective action that the group  formally seeks to 
achieve. For 
example, a sect that encourages its members  to be honest and reliable will 
foster better business relationships when  they deal with each other 
economically, in addition to the sect's  religious objectives. 
For  many groups, the radius of trust would extend to the whole group; this 
is  true of most families, for example. The rp coefficient in this case is 
1,  and the total amount of social capital in the society would therefore be 
 expressed as 
(3)   SC  =  (rpcn)1..t. 
Certain  groups, particularly larger ones, are characterized by internal 
hierarchy,  a division of labor, status and functional distinctions, etc. 
While the  group may be united around some common interest or passion, the 
degree to  which individual members are capable of collective action on the 
basis 
of  mutual trust depends on their relative position within the 
organization.  Putnam rightly distinguishes between what he calls a "membership 
 
organization" like the American Association of Retired People (AARP),  which, 
at 
more than 33 million members, is second only to the Catholic  Church in size. 
Such a group has a very large n-value, but most of its  members simply 
contribute yearly dues, receive a newsletter, and would  have little reason for 
cooperating with one another on any issue not  related to pensions or health 
benefits. For such an organization, the  rp coefficient  may be very small, 
limited to (for example) those people who work  full-time in its national 
headquarters (though even there, there are  presumably many employees who are 
simply wage-earners and not part of the  trust network). 
On  the other hand, it is possible for a group to have an rp coefficient 
larger than 1. To  take the earlier example of the religious sect that 
encourages honesty and  reliability, if these traits are demanded of its 
members in 
their dealings  not just with other members of the sect but generally in 
their dealings  with other people, then there will be a positive spillover 
effect into the  larger society. Again, Weber argued in effect that sectarian 
Puritans had  an rp value  greater than 1. 
The  final factor affecting a society's supply of social capital concerns 
not  the internal cohesiveness of groups, but rather the way in which they  
relate to outsiders. Strong moral bonds within a group in some cases may  
actually serve to decrease the degree to which members of  that group are able 
to trust outsiders and work effectively with them. A  highly disciplined, 
well-organized group sharing strong common values may  be capable of highly 
coordinated collective action, and yet may  nonetheless be a social liability. 
I earlier noted the fact that strongly  familistic societies like China and 
central-southern Italy were  characterized by an absence of a broader, 
generalized social trust outside  the family. At best, this prevents the group 
from receiving beneficial  influences from the outside environment; at worst, 
it may actively breed  distrust, intolerance, or even hatred for and 
violence toward outsiders.  Certain groups may be actively harmful to other 
parts 
of society-criminal  organizations like the Mafia or the Crips and Bloods 
come to mind. A  society made up of the Ku Klux Klan, the Nation of Islam, the 
Michigan  Militia, and various self-regarding ethnic and racial 
organizations may  score very high in terms of last three of the four variables 
given 
in  expression (3), and each group may have an rp of 1, and yet overall it 
would be  hard to say that such a society had a large stock of social capital. 
Group  affiliation can therefore produce a negative externality which we 
can  think of as the radius of distrust, or rn. The larger the  rn value, the  
greater the liability that group represents to the surrounding society;  
hence the measure for a single group's social capital, rpcn,  needs to be 
multiplied by the reciprocal of rn. (All  rn values, we  assume, must be 1 or 
greater.) The final value for a society's total stock  of social capital would 
then be: 
(1.4)   SC  =  ((1/rn)rpcn)1..t. 
To  some extent, we could expect that c and rn might be positively 
correlated  with one another. That is, internal cohesiveness is often based on  
strongly shared norms and values within a group: both the Marines and the  
Mormon Church are examples. But the very strength of those internal bonds  
creates something of a gulf between members of the group and those on the  
outside. Latitudinarian organizations like most contemporary mainline  
Protestant 
denominations in the United States, by contrast, easily coexist  with other 
groups in the society, and yet are capable of a much lower  level of 
collective action. Ideally, one would like to maximize the c and  and minimize 
the 
rn values: such would be the case,  for example, in a professional 
organization that socializes its members  into the values of its particular 
profession, while not at the same time  breeding distrust of other professions 
or 
being closed to influences from  them. 
As  this exercise indicates, producing anything like a believable census of 
a  society's stock of social capital is a nearly impossible task, since it  
involves multiplying numbers that are either subjectively estimated or  
simply nonexistent. This leads us to the other source of data that has  been 
used as a proxy for social capital, survey data on trust and civic  
engagement. There are a number of data sources that are useful here, such  as 
the 
National Opinion Research Council's General Social Survey (for the  US) and the 
University of Michigan's World Values Survey (for  international data). Each 
of these surveys asks a series of question  concerning trust in various 
political and social institutions, as well as  others probing the respondents' 
level of participation in voluntary  organizations. There are manifold 
problems with survey data, of course,  beginning with the fact that responses 
will vary according to the way the  question is phrased and who is asking it, 
to the absence of consistent  data for many countries and many time periods. 
A general question such as  "Generally speaking, would you say that most 
people can be trusted or that  you can't be too careful in dealing with 
people?" (asked on both the  General Social Survey and World Values Survey) 
won't 
give you very much  precise information about the radius of trust among the 
respondents, or  their relative propensities to cooperate with family, 
co-ethnics,  co-religionists, complete strangers, and the like. 
A  third possible way of measuring social capital in specific organizations 
 may be to look at changes in market valuations of a company before and  
after takeover offers. The market capitalization of any company represents  
the sum of both tangible and intangible assets; among the latter is,  
presumably, the social capital embodied in the firm's workers and  management. 
There 
is no accepted methodology for separating out the social  capital component 
of the intangible assets, which include other things  like brand names, 
good will, expectations of future market conditions, and  the like. Firms being 
taken over by other firms, however, are usually  bought at a premium to 
their pre-takeover price. In such a situation, we  can assume that part of the 
premium being offered is a measure of the  degree to which the new owners 
believe that they can manage the new firm  better than the old owners, with 
all other factors like tangible assets,  expectations about market conditions, 
etc. being held constant. In many  cases, part of the premium being offered 
represents the cost savings that  the new owners expect to achieve through 
realization of economies of scale  and scope; one would have to deduct this 
from the actual premium to get a  measure of the net value of the new 
management alone. This management  premium is not a pure measure of social 
capital; it may consist partly of  human capital rather than social capital. 
But 
social capital must  constitute a significant part of the residual, since 
effective management  is, after all, nothing more than efficient coordination 
of 
the firm's  activities._23_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#23)  
IV.  Where Does Social Capital Come  From? 
If  we define social capital as instantiated, informal norms that produce  
cooperation, economists have a straightforward explanation of where it  
comes from: social capital arises spontaneously as a product of iterated  
Prisoners Dilemma (PD) games. A one-shot PD game does not lead to a  
cooperative 
outcome because defection constitutes a Nash equilibrium for  both players; 
if the game is iterated, however, a simple strategy like  tit-for-tat 
(playing cooperation for cooperation and defection for  defection) leads both 
players to a cooperative outcome. In non-game  theoretic turns, if individuals 
interact with each other repeatedly over  time, they develop a stake in a 
reputation for honesty and reliability.  Market interactions in a commercial 
society leads, as Adam Smith observed,  to the development of bourgeois social 
virtues like honesty,  industriousness, and prudence._24_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#24)  A 
society 
composed entirely of  Kant's "rational devils" will develop social capital over 
time, simply as  a matter of the devils' long-term self-interest. 
Social  capital is clearly spontaneously generated all the time through the 
 playing of iterated PD games. Both Robert Ellickson_25_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#25)  
and Elinor 
Ostrom_26_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#26)  
have catalogued many empirical  cases of cooperative norms arising as 
a result of repeated community  interaction. The latter's database of 
instances in which communities have  successfully dealt with common pool 
resource 
problems is particularly  interesting because this class of problems 
constitutes an n-sided PD game  which should theoretically be much harder to 
solve 
through iteration than  a two-player game. 
The  economists' approach to understanding how social capital is generated 
is  ultimately very limited, however. The problem is that social capital 
more  often than not is produced by hierarchical sources of authority, which 
lay  down norms and expect obedience to them for totally a-rational reasons.  
The world's major religions like Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, or  
Islam, or large cultural systems like Confucianism, are examples. Not only  do 
norms from such sources not come about through decentralized  bargaining; they 
are transmitted from one generation to the next through a  process of 
socialization that involves much more habit than reason. Path  
dependence-another 
word for tradition-means that norms that are clearly  socially suboptimal 
can persist for very long periods of time. 
It  is, of course, possible to try to give economic or rational 
explanations  for religious and cultural phenomena, and thus to try to fit them 
into  
some larger theory of social behavior based on rational choice. There was  
for some time a school of "functionalist" sociology and anthropology that  
tried to find rational utilitarian reasons for the most bizarre social  rules. 
The Hindu ban on eating cows was ascribed, for example, to the fact  that 
cows were resources that had to be protected for other uses like  plowing and 
dairy-farming. Similarly, one could try to explain the  Protestant 
Reformation in terms of the economic conditions prevailing in  central Europe 
in the 
sixteenth century that led people to respond to  religious reformers like 
Luther, Calvin, and Melanchthon. But ultimately,  these accounts prove to be 
unsatisfying because they are too reductionist;  all such historical 
developments usually incorporate a substantial measure  of chance, genius, 
accident, 
or creativity that cannot be explained in  terms of prior conditions. Max 
Weber stood Marx on his head by arguing  that the cultural "superstructure" 
actually produced the economic  "substructure": it was the moral values 
inculcated by Puritanism, and  particularly the fact that virtues like honesty 
and reciprocity now had to  be practiced beyond the family, that made the 
modern capitalist world  possible in the first place. In Weber's account, 
culture was the uncaused  cause, the product of "charisma." 
Religion  continues to be a factor in economic development. One of the most 
 important and underrated cultural revolutions going on in the world today  
is the conversion of Catholics to Protestantism by (largely) American  
evangelicals and Mormons. This process, which has now been under empirical  
observation for nearly two generations, has produced social effects in the  
poor 
communities where it has occurred not unlike those ascribed to  Puritanism 
by Weber: converts to Protestantism find their incomes,  education levels, 
hygiene, and social networks expanding._27_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#27)  
Apart  from religion, shared historical experience can shape informal norms 
and  produce social capital. Both Germany and Japan experienced 
considerable  labor unrest and conflict between workers, managers, and the 
state in the 
 1920s and 30s. The Nazis and Japan's military rulers ultimately suppressed 
 independent labor unions and replaced them with "yellow" ones. After their 
 defeat in World War II, the democratic successor regimes opted for a much  
more consensual approach to management-labor relations that produced  
Germany's postwarSozialmarktwirtschaft and Japan's lifetime employment  system. 
Whatever their current dysfunctions, these institutions played a  critical 
role in allowing the two societies to return to growth after the  war, and 
constituted a form of social capital. V.  How  Can We Increase the Stock of 
Social Capital? 
The  discussion of where social capital comes from should be informative to 
 policymakers who want to increase the stock of social capital in a given  
country. States can both do some positive things to create social capital,  
and forebear from doing others that deplete a society's stock. We can make  
four observations. 
First,  states do not have many obvious levers for creating many forms of 
social  capital. Social capital is frequently a byproduct of religion, 
tradition,  shared historical experience, and other factors that lie outside 
the  
control of any government. Public policy can be aware of already existing  
forms of social capital-for example, the social networks used to develop  
information for microlending-but it cannot duplicate the effect of  religion as 
a source of shared values. Policymakers also need to be aware  that social 
capital, particularly when associated with groups that have a  narrow radius 
of trust-can produce negative externalities and be  detrimental to the 
larger society. 
Second,  the area where governments probably have the greatest direct 
ability to  generate social capital is education. Educational institutions do 
not 
 simply transmit human capital, they also pass on social capital in the  
form of social rules and norms. This is true not just in primary and  
secondary education, but in higher and professional education as well.  Doctors 
learn not just medicine but the Hippocratic oath; one of the  greatest 
safeguards against corruption is to give senior bureaucrats  high-quality 
professional training and to create an esprit de corps among this elite. 
Third,  states indirectly foster the creation of social capital by 
efficiently  providing necessary public goods, particularly property rights and 
public  safety. Diego Gambetta has shown that the Sicilian Mafia can be 
understood  as a private protector of property rights in a part of Italy where 
the  
state has historically failed to perform this function._28_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#28)  
Something 
similar to this has  sprung up in Russia during the 1990s. Private property 
rights protection  is very inferior to the state-supplied version, since there 
is 
nothing to  prevent these private providers from getting into a host of 
other illegal  activities as well. There are also economies of scale in the 
deployment of  coercive force used to enforce property rights. People cannot 
associate,  volunteer, vote, or take care of one another if they have to fear 
for  their lives when walking down the street. Given a stable and safe  
environment for public interaction and property rights, it is more likely  that 
trust will arise spontaneously as a result of iterated interactions  of 
rational individuals. 
Fourth,  states can have a serious negative impact on social capital when 
they  start to undertake activities that are better left to the private 
sector  or to civil society. The ability to cooperate is based on habit and  
practice; if the state gets into the business of organizing everything,  people 
will become dependent on it and lose their spontaneous ability to  work with 
one another. France had a rich civil society at the end of the  Middle 
Ages, but horizontal trust between individuals weakened as a result  of a 
centralizing state that set Frenchmen at each other through a system  of petty 
privileges and status distinctions. The same thing occurred in  the former 
Soviet Union after the Bolshevik Revolution, where the  Communist Party 
consciously sought to undermine all forms of horizontal  association in favor 
of 
vertical ties between Party-State and individual.  This has left post-Soviet 
society bereft of both trust and a durable civil  society. There are, of 
course, good reasons why countries should restrict  the size of their state 
sectors for economic reasons. On top of this, one  can add a cultural motive of 
preserving a sphere for individual action and  initiative in building civil 
associations. 
If  we look beyond the role of the state, there remain at least two 
additional  sources of social capital. The first is religion. General social 
science  theories about the inevitability of secularization appear to apply  
primarily to Western Europe; there is little evidence that religion is  losing 
its grip elsewhere, including the United States._29_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#29)  
Religiously-inspired 
cultural  change remains a live option in many parts of the world; the Islamic 
world  and Latin America have both seen the growth of new forms of 
religiosity in  recent decades. Obviously, not all forms of religion are 
positive 
from the  standpoint of social capital; sectarianism can breed intolerance, 
hatred,  and violence. But religion has also historically been one of the most  
important sources of culture, and is likely to remain so in the  future. 
The  second source of social capital in developing countries is 
globalization.  Globalization has been the bearer not just of capital but of 
ideas and  
culture as well. Everyone is well aware of the ways in which globalization  
injures indigenous cultures and threatens longstanding traditions. But it  
also leaves new ideas, habits, and practices in its wake, from accounting  
standards to management practices to NGO activities. It is not just  
investment bankers who can take advantage of the global communications and  
information revolution; activists of all sorts from environmentalists to  labor 
organizers can now operate transnationally to a much greater extent  than 
before._30_ 
(https://www.imf.org/external/pubs/ft/seminar/1999/reforms/fukuyama.htm#30)  
The issue, for most societies, is  whether they are net losers or 
gainers from this process, that is, whether  globalization breaks down 
traditional cultural communities without leaving  anything positive in its 
wake, or 
rather, is an external shock that breaks  apart dysfunctional traditionals 
and social groups and becomes the  entering wedge for modernity.  
____________________________________
 1Edward Banfield, The Moral Basis of a Backward  Society (Glencoe, IL:  
Free Press, 1958).
2James S. Coleman, "Social Capital in the Creation  of Human Capital," 
American Journal of Sociology  Supplement 94 (1988):  S95-S120.
3Partha Dasgupta, "Economic Development and the Idea  of Social Capital," 
unpublished paper, March 1997.
4According to Weber,  "The great achievement of ethical religions, above 
all of the ethical and  asceticist sects of Protestantism, was to shatter the 
fetters of the  sib." The Religion of  China (New York: Free  Press, 1951), 
p. 237.
5See Francis Fukuyama, Trust: The Social Virtues and  the Creation of 
Prosperity (New York: Free Press, 1995),  chapter 9.
6To  my knowledge, the first person to use this term was Lawrence Harrison  
in Underdevelopment is a  State of Mind: The Latin American Case (New York: 
Madison Books, 1985),  pp. 7-8.
7Fukuyama (1999).
8Mark S. Granovetter,  "The Strength of Weak Ties," American Journal of  
Sociology 78 (1973):  1360-80.
9For a  fuller treatment of this issue, see Francis Fukuyama, The Great 
Disruption: Human  Nature and the Reconstitution of Social Order (New York: 
Free Press, 1999),  chapter 12.
10See, for example, Annalee Saxenian, Regional Advantage: Culture  and 
Competition in Silicon Valley and Route 128 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard  University 
Press, 1994), which gives numerous examples of informal  intellectual 
property exchange in Silicon Valley.
11See James P. Womack  and D. Jones, The Machine  that Changed the World: 
The Story of Lean Production(New York: Harper  Perennial, 1991).
12See Fukuyama (1999), chapter 13.
13Ernest Gellner  in Conditions of Liberty:  Civil Society and Its Rivals 
(London: Hamish Hamilton,  1994).
14See,  for example, Michel Crozier, The Bureaucratic  Phenomenon (Chicago, 
IL:  University of Chicago Press, 1964); Stanley Hoffmann, Decline or 
Renewal? France  since the 1930s (New  York: Viking Press, 1974); Stanley 
Hoffmann and Charles Kindleberger, In Search of France (Cambridge, MA: Harvard  
University Press, 1963).
15 Edward Banfield in The Moral Basis of a Backward  Society (Glencoe, IL:  
Free Press, 1958); Robert D. Putnam, Making Democracy Work : Civic  
Traditions in Modern Italy (Princeton, NJ: Princeton  University Press, 1993).
16Mancur Olson, The Rise and Decline of  Nations (New Haven, CT:  Yale 
University Press, 1982).
17Larry Diamond, "Rethinking Civil Society," Journal of Democracy 5 (1994): 
5-17.
18Johnson,  Chalmers, MITI and the  Japanese Miracle (Stanford, Ca.: 
Stanford  University Press, 1982).
19Calvert J. Judkins, National Associations of the  United States 
(Washington, DC: US Dept. of  Commerce, 1949). I am very grateful to Marcella 
Rey for 
this and other  references concerning measures of group memberships.
20Lester M.  Salamon, America's  Nonprofit Sector (New  York: The 
Foundation Center, 1992).
21W. Lloyd Warner, J. O. Low, Paul S. Lunt, and Leo  Srole, Yankee  City 
(New Haven, CT:  Yale University Press, 1963).
22Apart from the difficulty in counting the number  of such groups, there 
are a number of complex issues in assessing the  quality of the relationships 
engendered by them. Ladd contests Putnam's  dismissal of many new advocacy 
groups as mere "membership groups." He  shows that not only have memberships 
in large environmental organizations  like the Nature Conservancy or the 
World Wildlife Fund grown  substantially, but the quality of the relationships 
formed among these  groups' members goes well beyond writing a yearly dues 
check. He points to  one study that shows how a single local chapter of a 
single environmental  organization sponsored countless hikes, bike trips, 
backpacking classes,  and the like, all of which presumably fostered personal 
relationships and  had spillover effects on social capital.
23The case could  probably be made that social capital is the most 
intangible of all  intangible assets, and tends to be consistently undervalued 
by 
markets  because it is so difficult to measure. Many mergers and acquisitions 
have  involved radical downsizing of company work forces. This achieved cost 
 savings in terms of current wages, but undermined trust and therefore  
social capital among the firm's remaining workers-a process popularly  known as 
"dumbsizing." Wall Street is obviously better able to measure the  
immediate labor cost savings than the longer-term impacts of such actions  on 
the 
firm's social capital. 
24Adam Smith, The Theory of Moral  Sentiments (Indianapolis, IN: Liberty  
Classics, 1982), Part One, I.4.7; Part Seven, IV.25
25Robert C.  Ellickson, Order Without  Law: How Neighbors Settle Disputes 
(Cambridge, MA: Harvard  University Press 1991).
26Elinor Ostrom, Governing the Commons: The  Evolution of Institutions for 
Collective Action (Cambridge: Cambridge University  Press, 1990).
27David Martin, Tongues of Fire. The Explosion  of Protestantism in Latin 
America (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1990);  David Stoll, Is Latin  America 
Turning Protestant? The Politics of Evangelical Growth (Berkeley, CA: 
University 
of  California Press, 1990).
28Diego Gambetta, The Sicilian Mafia: the  business of private protection 
(Cambridge: Harvard University  Press, 1993).
29David Martin, A General Theory of  Secularization (Oxford:  Blackwell, 
1978); Peter L. Berger, "Secularism in Retreat," National Interest no. 46 
(1996): 3-12.
30Jessica Matthews,  "Power Shift," Foreign  Affairs 76 (1997):  50-66.

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