Activism has shifted away from radical action in the past 40 years. While the 1960s was a period of great social unrest in the United States, it also gave rise to a current of optimistic populism that saw the eventual decline of militant protest and the growth of organizational political activism. The softer contours of today's activism are undoubtedly responsive to the fact that U.S. national politics began moving decidedly to the right starting in the early 1980s, when the implementation of neoliberal reforms, the redistribution of government responsibilities to the underprivileged, and the expanding concept of personal responsibility were introduced. Social change activism is, for the most part, now firmly rooted in the nonprofit structure, and activists' strategies fall largely within the bounds of normal politics—procedural, rhetorical, and demonstrative—as distinguished from tactics aimed at disturbing the social order and its structures of legitimation.

Despite this shift, scholars continue to be preoccupied with a fundamental question: Under what conditions can movements and campaigns for the underprivileged achieve social change? Marshall Ganz's examination of efforts to organize California's fieldworkers and Celina Su's investigation of community-based school reform organizations in the South Bronx explore this question, and do so with cases that reflect the transition from radical to reform activism. Both authors argue that the key to social change is in the process of strategy choices (not the strategies themselves), as informed by organizational (Su) and leadership cultures (Ganz). They depart from scholarship that attributes success to specific tactics or charismatic leaders and eschew arguments that place credit for social change on levels of funding, political context, or political opportunity (those occasions where political, social, or economic realignments, such as elite displacement, offer an opening for activist influence).

Reading these books together, one gains insight into the similarities between the tactical choices and communication techniques of Ganz's primary case, the United Farm Workers (UFW), and the education reform organizations that Su examines, regardless of the former's militant approach and the latter's more mainstream civic engagement. In its heyday, the UFW was perhaps the most relevant model for modern-day community organizing due to its being a hybrid labor union and civil rights movement with a unique combination of borrowed strategies: neighborhood organizing, service provision, ethnic and racial solidarity, storytelling of members' plights, leadership development, social events, transnational ties, civil disobedience, consumer boycotts, highly visible social actions (e.g., the 1966 28-day, 280-mile march to Sacramento), and ally building among politicians and religious, youth, labor, and other networks, not to mention its use of traditional labor-organizing practices such as strikes and union contracts.

In Why David Sometimes Wins, Ganz offers a historical analysis of efforts to organize California's fieldworkers. Focusing on competition among the UFW, the AFL-CIO, and the Teamsters (who were expelled from the AFL-CIO in 1957), he argues that “strategic capacity,” while not a guarantee of success, allows for optimizing political opportunities. Strategic capacity encompasses three factors: 1) deeply motivated leaders (who are not driven by salary or prestige), 2) access to salient knowledge (e.g., tactical skills, understanding relevant culture and behavior), and 3) reflective practices that allow for the creative tailoring of decision making. It is leadership teams—their identities, networks, and campaign experience—that shape strategic capacity, which, in turn, influences tactical choices.

Carefully detailing leaders' backgrounds (age, race/ethnicity, life experience, networks, and tactical repertoires, which are also recorded in an appendix), Ganz links strategic capacity—evident only in the UFW efforts—to organizational culture, including organizers' relationships to workers, communication practices (open or closed), and accountability structures (top-down or member based). An initial chapter establishes a historical context by offering insights from farmworker organizing during the years 1900 to 1960. The following chapters examine the differences in the way that the UFW, the AFL-CIO, and the Teamsters responded to key political opportunities: Washington politicians' turn against the Bracero program, which provided contract workers who were used to undercut wages and break strikes (1959–63); the recasting of farmworkers' plights in terms of racial justice (1963–65); the Delano grape strike (1965–66); and the DiGiorgio boycott (1966). (Two final chapters discuss the UFW's becoming an AFL-CIO–affiliated labor union and the downfall of the UFW.) Choosing these moments of similar opportunity allows Ganz to hone in on differences in strategic capacity to account for the UFW's success.

Many examples contrast the AFL-CIO's and the Teamsters' industrial union model with César Chávez's creativity. The former are characterized by white male leadership, hierarchical structures, and commitments to tried-and-true organizing tactics. In contrast, Chávez had a diverse leadership team, a whole worker approach (which catered to workers' daily needs), accountability to workers, and originality in addressing the ever-changing landscape of the fight. For example, during the grape strikes of the mid-1960s, while the AFL-CIO held static picket lines and focused on the labor story, Chávez devised roving pickets and highlighted La Causa, a new civil rights movement (pp. 127; 105). In the case of the DiGiorgio campaign, Ganz details how the Teamsters drove fancy cars and wore expensive boots—showing workers the signs of a strong union—and lured prospective members with promises of job security and company teamwork (p. 193). In contrast, the UFW (then the National Farm Worker Association) stressed leaders' grassroots origins, promoted the benefits of ethnic solidarity, and promised a move away from business as usual (p. 194).

Ganz worked for the UFW for 16 years, giving him unique insight and allowing for a rich examination of these campaigns and actors. He offers a convincing, extensively documented argument about the cultural and strategic differences among the competing efforts. In addition, the strategic capacity model can be generalized to other cases, since its broad categories allow for the selection of wide-ranging factors related to specific contexts. For example, while race and ethnicity figured prominently in the UFW case, one can imagine gender, class, or other factors working well with his model. Ganz finds that strategic capacity is rooted in recognizing opportunities and responding with speed to transform them into campaign gains. In this sense, his work fits well with Doug McAdam's political process model, which examines how movements can be positioned to take advantage of the structure of political opportunities.

In Streetwise for Book Smarts, Celina Su compares four similarly resourced organizational efforts to promote school reform in the South Bronx. They include Association of Community Organizations for Reform Now (ACORN)—Bronx, the Northwest Bronx Community and Clergy Coalition (NWBCCC), Sistas and Brothas United (SBU), and Mothers on the Move (MOM). In the same vein as Ganz, Su examines why, given the same South Bronx context and broad goals, the leaders of these organizations pursued different strategies. Her answer lies in how “toolkits,” organizational cultural practices, shape political strategies. Her investigation, like Ganz's, includes delving into the decision-making practices and relationships between organizers and members; she also analyzes why specific activities were chosen and their goals. Yet while Ganz explores how leaders' biographies influence organizational culture, Su is focused on why organizational culture matters, analyzing the pros and cons of different styles.

Su locates her four cases in two categories of activism: the Alinskyite category—named for Saul Alinsky, U.S. community organizer and author of Rules for Radicals (1971); and the Freirean category—named for Paulo Freire, Brazilian educator, godfather of popular education, and author of Pedagogy of the Oppressed (1968). Alinskyite organizations, like ACORN and NWBCCC, are characterized by large memberships of those with weak ties (to each other and the organization), who can be mobilized for campaign activities. Alinskyites emphasize aggressive membership recruitment and winning campaigns with staff organizers in the lead. In contrast, Freirean organizations, such as SBU and MOM, rely on fewer members with strong ties whose personal transformations are linked to the organization's manner of social change. The Freirean model promotes cultural and emotional exchange, cultivates members' leadership skills, and conscientiously nurtures partnerships between staff organizers and members.

Providing rich ethnographic detail, Su incorporates her fieldwork and extensive interviews to tell the story of very different organizations, some of which sought change through city politics while others worked through school administrators. After a chapter on the need for school reform in the South Bronx, and a chapter each detailing the two categories, Su then compares the four cases in chapters on race relations within the organizations, on their effectiveness in influencing public policy, and in regard to confrontational or collaborative strategies. For example, ACORN Bronx blocked a proposal to privatize underperforming schools—a decision requiring parental vote (a confrontational win). Because of ACORN's ability to generate significant turnout for events such as rallies and elections, it successfully defeated the proposal. In contrast, Mothers on the Move pushed local schools to better involve parents in decision making, which proved important when parents worked with school officials on security guard protocols and helped design the curriculum for a new school (a thoughtful collaboration). Since Freirean organizations train their members to communicate democratically and critically reflect on plans and actions (whereas Alinskyite organizations spend less energy on members' personal development and dynamics), their approach favors teamwork between constituents and decision makers.

Evaluating the strategies and achievements of all four organizations, Su concludes that the “numbers and noise” (p. 167) of the Alinskyite toolkit are better suited to promoting or blocking policy proposals, whereas the Freirean toolkit, with its emphasis on democratic relationships, fits with the more deliberative process of policy development or implementation. In addition, Alinskyite organizations were able to claim more successes, whereas the Freirean efforts logged fewer, but deeper, changes. Su suggests that each type of organization could improve its record of success by adopting elements of the other's toolkit, but I question whether the organizations she studied would agree with her. It is easy to imagine that an Alinskyite-Freirean balance could lead to better, more significant reforms than either model alone could offer, and Su's advice would serve as an excellent guide for developing new organizations. However, on the basis of the intimate portraits she presents of the organizations, they appear for the most part to be truly successful in terms of their respective missions and goals. Perhaps another option, though not without its own problems, would be a coalition model with Freirean organizations taking the lead in policy formulation, to be followed by Alinskyites pushing for passage of well-developed proposals. In the end, Su's thoughtful comparative analysis offers an important critique of nonprofit activism, as well as a thorough empirical study on school reform.

Su and Ganz offer similar thoughts on the factors that lead to successful social change. They both contend that creativity in strategy choices, which is fostered by critical reflection and iterative processes, holds significant promise for devising flexible, effective strategies. Additionally, each points to the emotional commitment of leaders as an important aspect of strategy development. Both provide essential data for better understanding empowerment strategies and leadership development, which are difficult to judge in material or quantitative terms. Perhaps the most striking connection between the two books is that Su's suggestions bear a comparison with the practices of the UFW in the 1960s and 1970s. Indeed, Chávez's right-hand man, Fred Ross, was part of Alinsky's network. Ganz notes that Ross specifically moved away from the Alinsky mode of professional organizing toward a more inclusive framework of leadership development, which Su would likely characterize as Freirean.

In addition to insightful research on the effectiveness of social change strategy decisions, these books offer a trajectory of U.S. activist influence and important lessons in social change—whether through civil disobedience, labor struggles, or mainstream political participation.