You’ve probably heard of Freakonomics, a book that has expanded to an empire that looks at how economics drives human behavior in unexpected and sometimes troubling ways. One of their most memorable topics was Chicago drug gangs. Most gang members earn less than minimum wage and stand a good chance of being killed or severely injured, all for a slim chance to become one of the few rich upper-level bosses. They’d be better off with a “legit” job and a lottery ticket.
The man behind the gang data is Sudhir Venkatesh. His book Gang Leader for a Day, A Rogue Sociologist Takes to the Streets, tells the story of six years at Robert Taylor Homes, which in 1962 became “the largest public housing project in the United States” with thirty-thousand residents. By the 1980s when Venkatesh began work, it was “the epitome of an ‘underclass’ urban neighborhood, with the poor living hard and virtually separate lives from the mainstream” and over 90% of the residents receiving government welfare.
He began his study carrying ridiculous survey forms into the projects for his sociology professors and quickly discovered statistics could not describe life there. But this readable book is not his dissertation; it if full of very real personalities and experiences.
The best-known part of the book covers his time with the drug gang. Venkatesh states that he found it “thrilling” to be “observing the thug life.” A few times he was frightened for his own safety, but Venkatesh must be brave – I would have never gone back.
Venkatesh grew up in a middle class Californian suburb, in an immigrant family from India. His skin color seemed to confuse the (exclusively) black inhabitants of Robert Taylor – they couldn’t decide if he was Mexican – there were rival Mexican gangs – or Arab – Arab immigrants owned stores in the area. His “loopy” appearance was also confusing – ponytail and a tie-dyed shirt. When he first entered a building he was detained by gang members and met their leader, J.T., who had a college degree but left his legitimate job to sell drugs. J. T. was a rising star in the Black Kings gang, became Venkatesh’s protector, and provided access to the gangs and the community.
J. T. seems to be an unusual drug boss who ran his gang like “any other business in America.” He insisted his boys get high school or GED diplomas. The gang member who kept the books even attended college courses to improve his accounting – and eventually gave Venkatesh those books, allowing the detailed economic analysis seen in Freakonomics. J.T. generally kept Venkatesh away from the violent side of the drug trade, but there was no way to hide it all. It’s a brutal life.
Unlike “crazy niggers” in other gangs, J. T. placated the residents by using his gang members to run errands for building leaders, driving favored residents shopping or to the hospital, and throwing partied funded out of his earnings. He kept order among squatters and drug addicts (Venkatesh estimated only 60% of the people in the building were legal residents.) But nothing was ever free or altruistic. Residents could force him out of their lobbies and stairwells or get him in trouble with police or the housing authority, and trouble meant lower profits.
I was more intrigued by the section of the book dedicated to the building residents. His professors told Venkatesh he needed to include women and family life in his study, and he found “criminal capitalism” there, too. The elected “building president” controlled support from the city and also ran her own web of favors, donations, and payments. The drug gang paid a “tax” to her to stay in her building.
While statistics said over 90% of the adults in the building were unemployed, everyone tried to earn money. Squatters took over a park to repair cars, and women provided babysitting, cut hair, or sold food from their apartments. Lest you think this admirable – the mechanics also let air out of tires to get work and prostitution was the most common female job.
Everyone was a “hustler” or was “hustled.” Corruption spread from the building to the city housing authority. Women who couldn’t afford to bribe the building president to get repairs would band together – one might have an air conditioner that ran, another a working bathroom, another a stove. Between them they could survive.
A large part of everyone’s day was involved with real or imagined slights and vengeance, lubricated with drugs and alcohol.
All these people paid “tax” to the drug gang or the building president – a higher percent than they would have owed in federal income tax, if my estimates are correct.
One horrifying event concerned a woman trying to get rid of her pimp. He beat her repeatedly and, after one extreme beating, the building president arranged for vigilantes to catch and beat the abuser. Venkatesh asked if anyone called the authorities. He was told no – an ambulance wouldn’t come and they were too scared of the police.
“There are two gangs in the projects… The police are also a gang, but they really have the power… at any moment the cops can get [the gangs] off the streets…” He is told “Never, never, never piss off the police.”
Given the current news about police tensions with black communities, this part of the book is important. Venkatesh explains fear of police with events he personally witnessed. Men he recognized as police, though not in uniform, raided parties to steal money and jewelry and beat anyone who objected. Police stopped cars and asked to see a pay-stub (how did the driver get a car if he doesn’t have a job? Cars were summarily towed away and sold). Police would shake down residents in their own version of outlaw capitalism.
One officer who had grown up in the projects and was trusted by residents told Venkatesh he knew that some of his fellow officers were a “gang,” but not all of them. It must have been excruciatingly hard to be a good cop.
Venkatesh speculates on why people agreed to let him inside the community. J. T. “seemed to feel sorry for me and, at the same time, curious” and advised him, that to study “people like us, you should hang out, get to know what they do and how they do it.” He thought the people he “hung” with “craved the attention”, were flattered that a student cared (they called Venkatesh “Mr. Professor”), and loved to talk about black Chicago. He also thought he provided entertainment.
Venkatesh says that he was not able to verify most of the stories he was told, and realized his access was rigorously restricted, but as an ethnologist that was acceptable. Sociologists use quantitative and statistical techniques, while ethnologists use direct observation “to answer a particular sort of question: How do people survive in marginal communities?”
If you ever wondered what life would be like under a warlord in some failed state, you need look no further than Chicago in the early 1990s. Especially if you have no personal experience in such a community, read this book before tackling current events.
BTW – the title refers to one episode in the book, not the most interesting to me, and not the core of the book. A little silly, but I guess since it caught my eye, I can’t complain too much.