In Hock: Pawning in America from Independence through the Great Depression (review)

During the February 2010 primary elections in Illinois, Democratic voters not only had to find a replacement for the disgraced former governor, Rod Blagojevich; they also had to deal with the forced withdrawal of the surprise victor in the lieutenant-governor’s race, Scott Lee Cohen. Cohen faced allegations of domestic violence, as well as negative reaction to the source of his considerable wealth: He was a pawnbroker whose clientele was comprised largely of minorities.

Woloson’s excellent book was undoubtedly in press by the time of Cohen’s misfortune, but her first two chapters about the traditional image of the Jewish pawnbroker places it in larger context. The prejudice that she describes ran deep in European history before being brought to colonial America. She shows how such cultural developments as phrenology and mass-market magazines helped to spread a prejudiced and false stereotype of Jews as moneylenders. Her analysis also places both the profession and the ethnic group that became its public face in the context of social-mobility studies. The book adopts something of a defensive tone as it handily succeeds in its effort to destroy negative myths, but in doing so, it sometimes becomes repetitive.

The core of the book is Woloson’s case for the scholarly examination of how modest exchanges of money and credit gave a small measure of security and predictability to the lives of not only workers but also the middle-class and the elite. By providing money to carry people through temporary shortages of funds, the pawnshop became a necessary underpinning for the rise of capitalism. The book admirably approaches the topic from many different perspectives. What was pawned? Economists might benefit from the discussion of the powers of sentiment in controlling personal economic behavior. Drawing on studies of consumerism, Woloson shows that mass production both altered patterns of consumption and desire and lowered the value of goods crossing the pawnshop’s counter. Excellent knockoffs that were passed off as genuine victimized pawnshops as well as customers.

Who were the pawners? The author demonstrates that the principle of pawning was simple and highly adaptable to the needs of the wealthy who needed extra cash for a night on the town or to those of the poor who faced hunger and eviction. In her discussion of personal-level economics, Woloson reveals the surprising size of the clientele. Without making the point explicitly, her study also argues effectively against the predominant image of the city as impersonal and anonymous by describing the strong bonds of personal trust between pawners and their brokers that were able to withstand the forces of urbanization and geographical mobility.

Finally, who were the pawnbrokers? In Hock demonstrates how the Irish in the United States became major players in the profession and how pawnshops were passed down through the generations. The book stresses the honesty of most brokers—the scrap dealers were the villainous fences—and the paper trail of bureaucratic forms turned the pawnshop into an adjunct, instead of an impediment, to law enforcement. Few businesses were as heavily regulated.

This excellent study of a specialized small business is filled with insights about the economic behavior of the poor throughout history, up to today’s “Great Recession.” As for Scott Lee Cohen, a few months after his tearful exit from the Democratic ballot, he decided to re-enter politics. He ran for governor of Illinois in 2010 as an Independent.