In examining the Valley Authority as an administrative device for Federal water resource management this paper will assume that its essential characteristics are those exemplified by the Tennessee Valley Authority, with such additional complications as might be necessitated by the irrigation functions performed in the western states by the Bureau of Reclamation. We may legitimately brush aside the allegations of communism and dictatorship as unwarranted propaganda exaggerations devoid of genuine reality. We may similarly discount many of the “new heaven and new earth” asseverations of those social idealists most susceptible to verbal inebriation who have stood out as the most ardent and vocal advocates of the new mode of organizing Federal resource administration.

The dominant feature of German geopolitical doctrine is an endeavor to unite man and his race, time and space, geography and history, peace and war, in a new, organic, and scientific whole. Geopolitics, therefore, chooses at random and at its own convenience among political ideas and anthropological, historical, geographical, and legal data. In an attempt to incorporate them into the body of a brand-new “science of the state,” Geopolitik tries to apply its particular methods and basic principles to a wide sphere of “branch” sciences, such as psychology, medicine, and jurisprudence.

The all-pervasive influence of Haushofer's “portmanteau” science is most clearly evident in the new names of these synthetic, combined branch-disciplines, as coined by German scholars. The broad category of Geo-Wissenschafte now includes at least Geo-Psychologie, Geo-Medizin, and Geo-Jurisprudenz, as the result of the attempts thus far made at creating an encylopaedic totalitarian “science.”

This article belongs in the area of what Karl Jaspers calls “existential elucidation.” It is concerned less with political ideals than with the relationship of the person to those ideals and to the realities that often contradict them.

During recent centuries political activity has been increasingly governed by the confidence that history is under human control. The tragedies and disappointments of the twentieth century, however, cast serious doubt on this confidence. Thus it is incumbent on us to reconsider man's whole stance in relation to history. The core of the article is the definition of an alternative stance, which I call “civility.”

The clue to civility was provided by Plato when he suggested, in The Republic, that although the ideal city probably could not be realized in history, its form might be reproduced here and there in the souls of individuals. In pursuance of this clue, civility is defined, on the one hand, as partial detachment from action, and from the ideological preoccupations frequently accompanying action, and, on the other hand, as concentration on governance of the self. Although such governance entails historical independence, it does not set one apart from others; on the contrary, its fundamental principle is openess to the totality of the human.

A series of significant developments in French politics has recently touched off speculation about the possibility that a major transformation of the structure and behavioral patterns of the system of political parties is taking place. The most salient developments from 1958 until 1967 can be briefly listed: (1) the unprecedented longevity of governmental coalitions throughout the entire span of life of the Fifth Republic (only one Government overthrown in eight years); (2) the near single-party majority attained by the Gaullist UNR in the November, 1962 elections; (3) the ability of five major non-Gaullist parties to coalesce their forces behind only two candidates opposing General de Gaulle in the December, 1965 presidential election, with the resulting necessity for a second ballot; (4) the subsequent merging of forces on the moderate left and the moderate right into combinations bent upon coordinated efforts in the March, 1967 legislative elections; (5) the successful construction of a Gaullist electoral alliance limiting the number of official Gaullist first-ballot candidates in each constituency to one; (6) the electoral agreements between the Communists and the moderate left Fédération permitting only one candidate of the left to remain in the race in any constituency on the second ballot; and (7) the tendency of voters to reward the united fronts of the outgoing Gaullist majority and the consistent leftist opposition and to penalize the relatively small and ambiguous center force, the Centre Démocrate.

Social scientists are finding an increasingly useful and stimulating tool in the application of statistical techniques to their problems. As in the employment of any new tool, both the utility and the limitations of this one must be learned. It seems beyond reasonable doubt, however, that quantification of data in the social sciences will become a more widely used and rewarding procedure as time goes on.

Prudence dictates that stress be laid on its limitations. The enthusiasm with which a new tool—toy, some would say—is adopted should not blind the user to dangers which may be implicit in its overuse. One cannot squeeze more juice from an orange than the orange contains, no matter how modern the squeezer. Care must be exercised, too, lest the bitter essence of the rind become mixed with the nourishing juice of the fruit itself.

The present analysis is an attempt, in not too complex a fashion, to make use of such techniques to organize and validate data which might otherwise permit only the broadest sort of generalizations by way of conclusion, conclusions unsatisfactory roughly in proportion to their breadth. The senior author of this article has for more than a decade and a half been interested in the problem of objective measurement of certain aspects of political change in Latin America with particular respect to the sum total of phenomena falling under the rubric of “democracy.” On four occasions, 1945, 1950, 1955, and 1960, he conducted a survey among groups of specialists on Latin America to elicit evaluations which then, with the help of such statistical procedures as seemed useful, were summarized and analyzed.

Of the spate of articles on interest group behavior and interest group theory which have appeared since the “rediscovery” of Bentley, only a few have been mildly critical. Two American commentators have criticized the vagueness of certain terms and a British observer has noted that, somehow, empirical research on group behavior rarely makes use of the theoretical schemes which have been devised.

But surely if we are to accept the claim of the group theorists that this is indeed the key to a science of politics, it is legitimate to ask that they submit their propositions to the tests imposed by science as a method. Perhaps the gap between research and theory stems less from a lack of data than from some limitations inherent in the group approach itself? This, in fact, is the argument of the present essay. The failure of group theory to serve as an adequate guide to research is the result both of the logical inconsistencies of its propositions and of its inability to explain what it purports to explain. The two weaknesses are related, for in their empirical work group theorists are constantly forced into inconsistencies as a result of the inability of the theory to deal with certain dimensions of experience. The ability of those who use the approach to ignore these consequences stems both from a certain looseness of vocabulary and a tendency, not limited to American scholars, to universalize their own political experience.

Much has been written of the mechanics of legislation in the Senate and the House of Representatives, and of the work performed by the committees of the Senate and the House. Little attention, however, has been paid to the sub-committees of Congress notwithstanding the fact that sub-committees perform a highly important function in legislation.

The Senate and the House are both such large bodies that it is imperative that the work of the bodies be handled initially through numerous committees. In the Senate there are seventy-four standing committees. In the House there are fifty-eight. The very reasons that make it advisable that committees be appointed at all in the Senate and in the House, make it desirable in certain cases that the work of the committees be even further sub-divided as occasion may warrant. When the work assigned to a standing committee of Senate or House is of a definite character that admits of practically no division, or when the committee itself of either body is small and appointed to have immediate consideration of a particular subject, the ordinary procedure is for the full committee to handle its work, without attempting to call upon members of the committee to act as a sub-committee, with the exception of sub-committee work in performance of a perfunctory duty, or, in the preparation, for instance, of a report where one member can prepare it far more expeditiously than could three members, five members, or the full committee.

During the past generation, social welfare has risen to a position of almost prime importance in the work of government. “Social services” have rivalled “defense services” as objects of public expenditure. “Social security” has complemented “national security” as an objective of public policy. Graduate schools of social work have taken their place alongside law schools, schools of education, and military and naval academies as important training-places for public service. It is perhaps time that we now inquire in what ways political science has been, or may yet be, affected by so phenomenal a change. If, as we are often assured, atomic fission means a revolution in our political thinking, the large-scale pursuit of social welfare might at least be expected to call for an equally vast, even though more gradual, evolution in our attitudes.

As an organized body of professed political scientists, how have we reacted to this change? We have, by and large, welcomed the extension of governmental activity. As teachers, we have helped habituate a new generation to such expressions as “the service state,” “positive government,” and “the new belief in the common man.” As scholars, we have followed with interest and approval the successive steps by which jurists have brought these activities within the framework of the written constitution of a federal state. As theorists, we have given to personal insecurity an honored place in the new psychopathological chapter in our evolving political philosophy. As citizens, we have played our part in planning and administering social welfare policies.

In the June 1987 issue of this Review, Stanley Rothman and S. Robert Lichter offered evidence to support their argument that “the new environmental movement in the United States is partly a symbolic issue,” that elites in the news media and in public interest groups misrepresent the dangers of nuclear energy as a surrogate for more direct criticism of liberal capitalism in the United States. In this controversy, Charles J. Helm expresses skeptictem about the Rothman-Lichter line of argument; and they respond.

In a study of recent political thought in the South, it is necessary to delimit the area called “The South.” Howard Odum included fourteen states in his practical design for the “southern regions.” The President's Committee which reported in 1938 on economic conditions in the South covered thirteen states. The southern governors of fifteen states joined in the regional educational compact. The Manufacturers' Record, published in Baltimore as the industrial organ of the South, reaches out to sixteen states. V. O. Key limits his study, Southern Politics, to those eleven states which have consistently stayed with the national Democratic party. This author in the main refers to the eleven states which once seceded to form the Confederacy; coincidentally, these are the same eleven states that Key found to be “solid” in national politics.

Ever since the constitutional improvisations of February 1, 1944, one of the enigmatic and obscure aspects of Soviet diplomacy has been the precise role of the Union Republics in its execution, administration and procedures. Aside from the participation of the Ukraine and Byelorussia in the work of the United Nations and its affiliated bodies and conferences, little attention has been paid to the role or potential of the Union Republics in Soviet foreign policy. Their apparent diplomatic inertia, however, is misleading, for in marked contrast to their meager formal participation in external affairs is their increasing implication in the quasi-diplomatic maneuvers of the Soviet Government. Furthermore, the juridical capacity of the Republics to embark on diplomatic adventures meets the formal canons of internal and international law, and remains intact in spite of the past dormancy of their diplomatic organs. At opportune moments it may be transmuted into concrete diplomatic benefits.

On March 1, 1951, the Administrator of General Services certified that the proposed presidential tenure amendment submitted to the states by Congress in 1947 had been ratified by thirty-six states, thus making it a part of the United States Constitution. Adoption of this proposal, which becomes the Twenty-second Amendment to the United States Constitution, disposes of an issue that has agitated American politics periodically since the establishment of the Presidency. Hereafter no person will be eligible for a third term as President if he has served two full elective terms or one full elective term plus more than one-half of another term through succession to the office. President Truman, who would otherwise be rendered ineligible for reëlection following completion of his current term, is exempted from the ban by a qualifying clause which excludes from coverage “any person holding the office of President when this Article was proposed by the Congress.”

Hostility to long continuance in office, particularly for executive officers, has been a prominent feature of American political thinking since Revolutionary times. Seven of the original state constitutions, all of which were formulated prior to adoption of the federal Constitution, carried clauses limiting reeligibility of the state chief executive.

The review is republishing below the findings and recommendations included in the Report recently prepared by the Special Committee on Service Voting of the American Political Science Association and presented to the President of the United States, who submitted it to Congress. The Committee was composed of the following members: Paul T. David, chairman, Robert Cutler, Samuel J. Eldersveld, Bertram M. Gross, Alexander Heard, Edward H. Litchfield, ex officio, Kathryn H. Stone, and William B. Prendergast, secretary.

In a letter of April 7, 1952, to Luther Gulick, President of the Association, President Truman expressed his appreciation for the work of the Committee and of the Association in the following words:

I wish to thank you, and the members of the Special Committee on Service Voting of the American Political Science Association, for the outstanding report on “Voting in the Armed Forces” which you sent me with your recent letter. This report more than fulfills my request to the American Political Science Association for an analysis of the progress made on soldier voting, and recommendations for steps to be taken to see that a maximum number of servicemen vote this year.