The architecture of houses of parliament and of legislative chambers in countries around the world is analysed for its relationship to political culture. It is argued that parliamentary buildings and spaces (1) preserve cultural values of the polity over time; (2) articulate contemporaneous political attitudes and values; and (3) contribute to the formation of political culture. Preservation is illustrated by how parliament buildings occupy sacred sites, symbolize the state and assure the continuity of legislative traditions. Articulation is exemplified by reflecting the relative importance of the two legislative houses and making expressive statements about the role of parties, executives and individual legislators. Formation can be affected by the physical dimensions of chambers, the arrangement of seats, aisles and lecterns, and spatial relationships between houses and the parliament versus the executive. It is concluded that the advent of television broadcasting of parliamentary sessions may make these architectural features even more important in perpetuating, manifesting and shaping political culture.

Despite the inadequacies of data available for Ihe study of New Zealand electoral behaviour, evidence from a number of small-scale projects has given rise to a conventional wisdom which suggests that, at least in the 1960s, the association between class and party was strong in New Zealand – similar to the level in Britain. New evidence suggests that past estimates of class voting exaggerated the size of the link. Furthermore since the 1960s the level of class voting has declined considerably, as it has in many other countries. In New Zealand this decline appears to have been brought about by new age cohorts with weaker class-party alignments replacing older cohorts with stronger class-party links. Multivariate analysis supports the initial findings while at the same time showing that occupation remains the central social structural determinant of the vote in New Zealand.

This article examines the relative impact of different political cleavages on party preference in a comparative West European context. The point of departure is the so-called ‘new polities’ theory, which postulates that the value polarization between materialist and post-materialist (MPM) political orientation is a new and increasingly important dimension in this respect.

The findings from ten West European democracies confirm that the MPM cleavage is an important party cleavage in most of the countries examined, although the traditional structural cleavages are still most important from a causal perspective. The MPM dimension does not, however, have the largest impact in the most advanced industrial democracies, something new politics theory appears to contend. Another ideological cleavage dimension – ‘Left-Right Materialism’ – is also an important party cleavage, and appears to have most impact in the most advanced (post-industrial) West European countries.

Formal analysis is fairly new in public administration, and there is some scepticism in the field about the intellectual advantages of mathematical methods. This is appropriate. Using these methods is now faddish, and fads can cause goal displacement. A formal model of bureaucracy should be only a tool for deepening our knowledge about public organizations. If the underlying ideas are silly, translating them into mathematics will do little good. If they are promising, however, deductive reasoning can help us explore their potential: if one believes A is a general property of bureaucracies, to fail to work out A's logical implications would be throwing away information. Analysis can also increase the falsifiability of our ideas: if A implies B but empirically we find not-B, the truth status of A is brought into question. Or it may turn out, as Arrow discovered about democratic principles, that our informal ideas are logically inconsistent: we thought properties C and D describe existing or possible institutions, but recasting the ideas into mathematical form reveals that such an institution is impossible. Finally, some problems are just too hard to tackle without formal tools. It is unlikely, for example, that Robert Axelrod would have discovered the robustness of the simple strategy of tit-for-tat in the two person prisoners' dilemma without the help of a computer (to pit tit-for-tat against many opponents in thousands of rounds of play) and of mathematics (to prove some generic properties of tit-for-tat).

‘The essence of the welfare state’, wrote Wilensky in a classic study, ‘is government-protected minimum standards of income, nutrition, health, housing, and education, assured to every citizen’. This innocent definition is, we shall see, highly contestable, but it has the merit of putting into a few words the most important characteristics of modern welfare states: that they necessarily involve some model of citizenship; that they provide a stream of services for people called citizens; and that they use public power to raise the resources for those services and to organize their provision. If there is a crisis of the welfare state it has to involve, in other words, a crisis of citizenship, or a crisis in the capacity of states to raise resources and to transform those resources into services.