Bourdieu (1986) asserts that economic capital “is immediately and directly convertible into money and may be institutionalized in the form of property rights” (p. 243). From this monetary context economic capital fully engages the notion of access to and the utilization of material resources. . The social stratification of economic resources and inequalities inherent therein are well explicated from a social science perspective in the literature (Gursky, 2008; Bowles & Gintis, 1997).

Commenting on social stratification as it relates to economic capital, Weber (as quoted in Levine, 1998) notes “It is the most elemental economic fact that the way in which the disposition over material property is distributed among a plurality of people, meeting competitively in the market for the purposes of exchange, in itself creates specific life chances” (p. 44). He continues, noting that those people in a capitalistic society with property or economic capital effectively have a “monopoly on the possibility of transferring property from the sphere of use as ‘wealth’ to the sphere of ‘capital,’ that is, it gives them the entrepreneurial function and all chances to share directly or indirectly in returns on capital” (p. 44). Bowles and Gintis (1977) offer a similar argument, noting that capital provides people with the ability to exercise immediate agency over their environment, “Those who possess the capital, political power, and information to quickly take advantage of the tumultuous change, reap profits; they place themselves favorably in a position to take advantage of the next opportunity” (p. 64). Similarly, various forms of capital are utilized to gain advantages in schools, a dynamic of which educational leaders—we contend—must be aware. For example, the work of Anyon (1980) regarding the curricular and pedagogical practices of different elementary schools offers a strong example of the stratification of advantage that economic capital offers to some students and denies to others.

For Bourdieu (1986), the concept of cultural capital is more complex and demands a more robust understanding of the lived realities of people in a capitalist society (p. 243). A step removed from the more direct liquidity of economic capital, cultural capital “is convertible, on certain conditions, into economic capital and may be institutionalized in the form of educational qualifications” (p. 243). Kinchelo (2008), simplifies this argument explaining that, “In the same way that money is a form of ‘economic capital,’ membership in the dominate culture affords individuals ways of knowing, acting and being (cultural capital) that can be ‘cashed in’ in order to get ahead in the lived world” (p. 110). By further explicating the idea of cultural capital, Bourdieu (1986) argues that the construct can be understood as existing in three states: an embodied state (i.e., as cultural or cultivation of culture, p. 243), an objectified state (i.e., “material objects and media, such as writings, paintings, monuments” . . . p. 246) and an institutionalized state (i.e., “academic qualifications” leading to offering formal and lasting cultural capital to those sanctioned as acceptable via the conferment of an academic qualification pp. 246- 247). For the purposes of this paper we will explore the concept of cultural capital in the form of an embodied state leading to (and influencing) the acquisition of cultural capital in its institutionalized form.

Social capital is a concept that resists a common definition, rather lending itself to multiple and varied operational constructs (Fukuyama, 2002). Indeed, Halpern (2005) contends that a primary reason for the concept’s popularity among scholars is that it can be used to describe and explain varied kinds of outcomes in social science research. Put simply, social capital refers to connections within and between social networks, or structures of individuals or groups (termed nodes) that are linked together through various types of interdependency: personal (e.g., through kinship and friendship), business/economic (e.g., through financial and/or contractual relationships), ideological/positional (e.g., through shared beliefs or shared commitments), and status (e.g., through shared prestige or recognition). Of particular interest in this context are the different ways in which social capital has been defined in relation to how and to what end such networks are deployed. Here, we describe the work of several key theorists with an eye toward distinguishing among varied takes on the issue of deployment and consider its implications for schooling.

Bourdieu (1986) defines social capital as “the aggregate of the actual or potential resources which are linked to possession of a durable network of more or less institutionalized relationships of mutual acquaintance and recognition” (p. 248). From an instrumental perspective, such networks are construed not as naturally occurring relationships, but as resources (capital) that must be built (through investments in formalizing/institutionalizing group relations) and deployed in the pursuit of other benefits. For Bourdieu, indeed, “the profits which accrue from membership in a group are the basis of the solidarity which makes them possible” (1986, p. 249). Thus, for Bourdieu, measuring social capital is a matter of quantifying the profits or benefits that result from its deployment.

Operating from a functionalist perspective, Coleman (1990, p. 302) defines social capital as “a variety of entities with two elements in common: they all consist of some aspect of social structure, and they facilitate certain actions of actors—whether persons or corporate actors—within the structure. Hence, for Coleman social capital is a value-neutral resource consisting of any kind of network (or system of networks) that facilitates collective or individual action. Whether good or ill results from social capital deployment is thus entirely dependent upon the intentions of the individual or group deploying it. For Coleman, social capital is best measured in terms of the degree of functionality offered by a set of existing networks; specifically, the extents to which existing networks facilitate action.

While conceding that social capital can be deployed in the interests of doing harm as well as good (citing Oklahoma City bomber Timothy McVeigh as an example of deploying social capital to do harm), Putnam (2000) emphasizes social capital’s potential for sustaining, and revitalizing democracy. In the widely-read Bowling Alone, Putnam defines social capital as “the collective value of all social networks and the inclinations that arise from these networks to do things for each other” (p. 24) and considers how elements of American culture and society (e.g., the television and urban sprawl) have resulted in a less connected polity.

For Putnam, social capital can be measured by the degree of trust and reciprocity that exists between individuals and within a community. Moreover, and of particular relevance to our consideration the implications for leadership, he distinguishes between the value of bonding social capital and bridging social capital. Bonding social capital refers to networks between homogenous groups, while bridging social capital refers to networks between heterogeneous groups. Putnam contends that the bridging form of social capital offers the most benefit for the individual, group, community, government, and society.

Offering a slightly different perspective from consideration of variations related to deployment frameworks, Nahapiet and Goshal (1998) suggest a three-part framework for considering social capital consisting of (1) structural dimensions, (2) relational dimensions, and (3) cognitive dimensions. Structural dimensions relate to an individual’s ability to cultivate and configure ties to others within a given system, and focuses on the benefits derived from such networks. As such, the structural dimension has elements in common with both Bourdieu’s and Coleman’s treatments of the construct, along with others such as Nin, Flap, and Eriksson (Lin, 2001). The relational dimension is concerned with the nature of the connections between individuals, something best characterized via the level of cooperation and trust, while the cognitive dimension considers the collective meanings and understandings that characterize a network.

Political capital is more of a popular construct than an academic one, and accordingly there is much less in the way of a scholarly literature describing the concept. We can begin to articulate a definition here by considering a recent and oft-cited use of the term, when President George W. Bush famously remarked immediately after winning a second term that “I earned capital in this campaign, political capital, and now I intend to spend it …” and adding “When you win, there is . . . a feeling that the people have spoken and embraced your point of view” (Watson, 2005, ¶ 1). Further elucidating the concept, a USA Today editorial (2005) published approximately one year after the above statements described an exchange wherein a Latin American journalist asked the President what he carries with him, to which he responded by removing a handkerchief from his pants, pulling his empty pockets inside out and saying "Es todo. No dinero." ["That's all. No money."] (Bush, 2005). The editorial treats the exchange as a metaphor for the President’s loss of political capital in that 12 month period as a result of the war in Iraq, Hurricane Katrina, rising energy costs, the CIA-leak probe and other setbacks.

Presidential politics aside, the bookending of the two statements above illustrates the generally accepted definition of political capital as a form of capital that is based upon an individual’s or group’s favorable standing among the general populace and among other leaders and groups within and outside an organizational system. Political capital accrues to an individual or group according to a formal position (and is thus akin to Weber’s [1922/1968] notion of titular authority). It can also be increased and enhanced through actions and decisions that add to one’s popularity, however (e.g., by enacting a policy that is favorable to the majority and or to other popular individuals or groups, by doing favors for other popular individuals or groups, or by otherwise cultivating close relationships with other centers of power) and so has some indirect connections with Weber’s notion of legitimate authority (1922/1968).

Parallel with the Weberian notions of titular authority, political capital generally lasts only as long as the tenure of an individual or an administration (i.e., it is acquired via the title or mandate, and ends when the title or mandate is no longer possessed by the individual or administration) and must be spent in order to be valuable (i.e., it cannot be saved beyond the political life of the individual or group holding it). Moreover, political capital can be wasted through actions and decisions that spend such resources without producing desirable results (a process we might compare with Weber’s (1922/1968) discussion of a legitimation crisis [see also Habermas, 1987]).

It is our contention here that the previously described forms of capital can be found inside most formal educational settings and that educational leaders generate, expend, and/or ignore capital every day—often unwittingly. But why does this matter to every day school leaders? Simply stated, leadership is likely to be more effective when the leader’s work is informed by an understanding of how his or her decisions and actions impact distributions of capital. Theoretical constructs evident in the four types of capital presented in this paper offer powerful theoretical lenses for administrators , yielding perspectives that can guide and inform their practice as well as assist them in reflecting upon their actions and behaviors as school leaders.

Anyon (1980) provides a useful structure for understanding the differences found among public schools in complex industrial societies, especially related to “educational experience and curriculum knowledge understanding [offered] to students in different social classes” (p. 179). Her work illustrates distinct differences in the economic capital found in schools and helps bring to light contrasts in the schooling experiences of students associated with variations in the economic capital their families possess.

In her work, Anyon outlines a critical analysis of fifth grader student experiences from different schools based on the school’s level of economic social stratification. By distinguishing among and naming the schools in her study based on the work and income of the student’s parents (working-class, middle-class, affluent professional, and executive elite), Anyon calls attention to the ways in which the schooling experience is differentiated in accordance with the level of economic capital that a student’s family possesses.

Elaborating on and extending that claim, Anyon argue that students in working-class schools are treated much like blue collar workers who follow a set of tasks or directions. In these schools students are offered a curriculum of following steps. Students in working-class schools are not offered the opportunity to explore the process, to develop a sense of mastery of content; instead they are required to follow the teacher’s instructions with little or no idea of the lesson before them. Anyon offers examples of this reality in working class schools that are related to the manner in which students are expected to complete assignments, which are often presented as, fragmented procedures. For example, one of the teachers led children through a series of steps to make a one-inch grid on their paper without telling them they were making a one-inch grid, or that it would be used to study scale. (p.187). Anyon notes that the students were admonished by her teacher during this exercise for being creative and exploring an alternative and faster method of one-inch grid production. The teacher said, “No, you don’t; you don’t even know what I’m making yet. Do it this way or it is wrong” (1980, p. 187). In this situation, the students are led to believe that the teacher has knowledge and the student does not, including what is the right procedure and what is the wrong procedure.

By contrast, for children in affluent professional schools, work is a creative activity carried out independently. In fact students are continually asked to express and apply ideas and concepts. In the working-class school creative students are is admonished for their ingenuity and thinking skills while in the affluent professional schools the students are encouraged to think creatively without the intellectual reins being pulled. Anyon argues that this type of education teaches children that they need to be “society’s successful artists, intellectuals, legal, scientific, and technical experts and other professionals” (p. 201), in effect further extending the economic capital of their families through the curricular experiences of the student.

Anyon’s work concerns teachers, of course, not leaders. But leaders must grasp such manifestations of economic capital in the organization and operation of schooling if they are to provide all students with the opportunity to develop socially, intellectually, and academically. When leaders cannot or do not, they are contributing to the reproduction of a stratified society. Conversely, recognizing such patterns of inequity can guide their thinking about such key leadership decisions as the distribution of human and material resources within the organization.

Schooling and cultural capital are linked in relation to student and teacher expectations of each other (Anyon, 1980; Reck, Reck & Keefe, 1993; Willis, 1977). Others (Bowles & Gintis, 1977; Bourdieu & Passeron, 1990) have argued that this dynamic extends more broadly to the ways that schools are organized and operated (e.g., through tracking and the assignment of teachers). All acknowledge that certain cultures are privileged and others devalued by formal institutions like schools, and that students’ cultural background operates as a form of currency that is exchanged for differential treatment within the context of the school.

Reck, et al’s (1993) examination of a school system in Appalachia offers important insights into the class distinctions that frame perceptions of teachers and students. In the following passage, they report an elementary teacher’s description of the Appalachian students with whom she/he is working:

These researchers also report a general trend among teachers to complement town students more than rural students. Specifically they reported the following teacher’s comments,

The research findings described by Reck and others, illustrate the need to understand better the impact that stereotypes have on the organization and operation of schooling processes. Without that understanding, schools (and school leaders) are likely (unwittingly, for the most part) to continue assigning different values to the cultures that are inherent to students from various backgrounds, and to structure (and, in the case of students from marginalized cultures, to limit the quality of) their educational experiences in accordance with those assignations.

Social capital accrues via the cultivation of relationships and networks. For the educational leader who would serve the interests of social justice (which we contend they should), attending to social capital is perhaps best addressed through an engagement with democratic leadership (Woods, 2005, Johnson & Hess, 2010). By empowering staff members to make important, meaningful decisions, administrators encourage others to have more responsibility and accountability for the successful operation of the school. The mutual trust and shared responsibility that result from shared decision-making can tie the school and community together through a shared vision. Leaders should be adaptable, flexible, responsive to others in enacting their authority, and above all else, should model democratic rationalities (Woods, 2005). Such work calls on leaders to build relationships with and among all stakeholders, not just those holding formal and informal positions of power. By including varied stakeholders in the distribution of responsibilities and rewards, school leaders are practicing what Putnam (2000) terms bridging social capital, or capital that brings together otherwise separate groups.

Schools are political sites and their governing leadership, the school board, consists of elected officials. They receive funding largely from local taxes that are subject to the will of the electorate. Beyond these immediate governing structures, school operations are impacted by the growing influence of their respective state departments of education, the U.S. Department of Education, elected officials (federal and state) and a plethora of privately funded organizations. The concept of teaching a curriculum is in and of itself political, given that knowledge is not inherently neutral. In many school districts, teachers and classified staff are unionized and have contracts that dictate their working conditions. Therefore, school leaders need to assess their political climates and be conscious of the presence and deployment of political capital in order to function in such a highly politicized arena.

Some measure of political capital accrues to the leader upon hiring (i.e., the decision to employ the leaders reflects to varying extents a vote of confidence in him/her). Additional capital will accrue (and be lost) in accord with the leader’s decision and actions and how those actions and decisions are perceived by stakeholders. The challenge for the leader is to maintain an understanding of the dynamics of political capital acquisition and deployment without substituting means for ends (i.e., not valuing political capital in and of itself, but rather valuing it as a means to serve and act on behalf of others who lack capital).