Dreams of Pure Sociology

Dreams of Pure SociologyAuthor(s): Donald BlackSource: Sociological Theory, Vol. 18, No. 3 (Nov., 2000), pp. 343-367Published by: American Sociological AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/223323 .

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Dreams of Pure Sociology*

DONALD BLACK

University of Virginia

Unlike older sciences such as physics and biology, sociology has never had a revolution. Modern sociology is still classical-largely psychological, teleological, and individualistic-and even less scientific than classical sociology. But pure sociology is different: It predicts and explains the behavior of social life with its location and direction in social space-its geometry. Here I illustrate pure sociology with formulations about the behavior of ideas, including a theory of scienticity that predicts and explains the degree to which an idea is likely to be scientific (testable, general, simple, valid, and original). For example: Scienticity is a curvilinear function of social distance from the subject. This formulation explains numerous facts about the history and practice of science, such as why some sciences evolved earlier and faster than others and why so much sociology is so unscientific. Because scientific theory is the most scientific science, the theory of scienticity also implies a theory of theory and a methodology for the development of theory.

The history of science is partly a history of revolutions (see, e.g., Kuhn 1962; Hacking 1981; Cohen 1985).l Historian Thomas Kuhn suggests that a scientific revolution over- throws and replaces the prevailing "paradigm" in a field of science-its strategy of explanation (1962: 10-11; see also generally Chapters 2, 10). A new paradigm implies a new conception of reality and a new logic by which reality is understood (idem: 110; see also Black 1995: 864-867). Examples are the Copernican revolution that overthrew the earth- centered universe, the Darwinian revolution that overthrew the immutability of plants and animals, and the Einsteinian revolution that overthrew the absolute nature of space and time.2 The period before a scientific revolution is sometimes known as the classical era of a science. Classical physics, for example, refers to physics before relativity theory

*Prepared for a session entitled "Where Do Theories Come From?" at the annual meeting of the American Sociological Association, San Francisco, California, August 24, 1998. The session was part of a Theory Section Miniconference on "Methods of Theoretical Work." I presented other versions to the Department of Sociology, Texas A & M University, College Station, Texas, March 26, 1998; the Justice Studies Program, University of New Hampshire, Durham, New Hampshire, May 7, 1998; the Department of Sociology, Rutgers University, New Brunswick, New Jersey, October 14, 1998; the International Sociological Association Research Committee on the Sociology of Law, World Congress of the Sociology of Law, Warsaw University, Warsaw, Poland, July 16, 1999, and Jagiellonian University, Krakow, Poland, July 17, 1999. For comments on earlier drafts I thank M. P. Baumgartner, Albert Bergesen, Thomas J. Bernard, Mark Cooney, Murray S. Davis, Ellis Godard, Marcus Mah- mood, Calvin Morrill, Roberta Senechal de la Roche, Christopher Stevens, Frank J. Sulloway, James Tucker, and Jonathan Turner. Please address correspondence to the author at the Department of Sociology, Cabell Hall, University of Virginia, Charlottesville, VA 22903. [email protected]

'Philosopher Karl Popper comments that new theories ideally "overthrow" past theories of the same subject: "In this sense, progress in science-or at least striking progress-is always revolutionary" (1975: 93-94). 2 Kuhn proposes that a scientific revolution becomes a possibility when an old paradigm-"normal science"- encounters facts it cannot explain. Such "anomalies" pose a "crisis" that may ultimately be resolved by a revolutionary paradigm (1962; see also McAllister 1996: Chapter 8). But Kuhn's model is wrong: Revolutionary theories such as those of Copernicus, Darwin, and Einstein did not explain facts their fellow scientists were trying to explain. No crisis existed (see Lightman and Gingerich 1992; Kelly 1994: 455-457). Revolutionary scientists typically answer questions virtually no one else is asking and initiate revolutions virtually no one else wants. Scientific revolutions thereby differ considerably from political revolutions (see Feuer 1982: 252-268; see also 269-311; Kubler 1962: 109).

Sociological Theory 18:3 November 2000 ? American Sociological Association. 1307 New York Avenue NW, Washington, DC 20005-4701



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(developed by Albert Einstein) and quantum theory (developed by Max Planck, Niels Bohr, Werner Heisenberg, and others) early in the twentieth century. A revolution fundamentally changes science, and classical science becomes obsolete.3

CLASSICAL SOCIOLOGY

Sociology has never had a revolution. Classical sociology merely refers to early sociology, and it has never been overthrown or abandoned. On the contrary: Modern sociologists widely agree that the fundamentals of sociology outlined by the classical sociologists- Max Weber, Emile Durkheim, Georg Simmel, and the rest4-still prevail. Classical soci-

ology is the model of sociology itself. Moreover, the classical conception of social reality is largely psychological (a matter of subjectivity), the classical logic of explanation is

largely teleological (a matter of means and ends), and the classical subject is largely the

person (including a number or group of persons). Social action is individual action. Max Weber-possibly the most celebrated classical sociologist-is explicitly and mil-

itantly psychological, teleological, and individualistic. He asserts, for example, that soci-

ology is the "interpretive understanding of social action" and that "subjective understanding is the specific characteristic of sociological knowledge" ([1922] 1978, Volume 1: 4, 15; see also 8; Ringer 1997: 1, 92). Human behavior is "action" only if it has "subjective meaning" for the actor, and action is "social" only if "its subjective meaning takes account of the behavior of others" (idem: 4; see also 26; Volume 2: 1375-1376). Furthermore, only "individual human beings" engage in social action (Volume 1: 13, italics in original); collectivities do not.5 His most respected ideas of a substantive nature, such as his con-

ception of the "legitimacy" of authority (idem: 212-216; see also Volume 2: 901-910) and his theory of the rise of capitalism ([1904-05] 1958), are explicitly psychological, teleological, and individualistic as well.

The classical sociologist most famous for insisting that sociology is different from

psychology-Emile Durkheim ([1895] 1964)-also continually addresses the subjectivity of the goal-seeking individual. He psychologizes virtually every subject, even society: "Because society can exist only in and by means of individual minds, it must enter into us and become organized within us. ... Society is a synthesis of human consciousnesses"

([1912] 1995: 211, 432; see also 445). He claims that "everything in social life rests on

opinion" and that sociology is primarily the study of opinion: "We can make opinion an

object of study and create a science of it; that is what sociology principally consists in"

(439). Everywhere he discusses the contents of the human mind, whether a feeling of

solidarity with others ([1893] 1964), a predisposition to suicide ([1897] 1951), or a rev- erence for society ([1912] 1995). If Durkheimian sociology is not psychological, then Durkheim is not Durkheimian. But Weber and Durkheim are not uniquely psychological, teleological, and individualistic. They exemplify classical sociology.6 And they exemplify modern sociology as well.

3Classical science may survive in a limited capacity, however. Although Einstein's general theory of relativity is more powerful than Newton's law of gravity, for example, Newton's law is still used to predict gravitation on or near the surface of earth (see Weinberg 1998; Greene 1999: 380-381).

41 particularly refer to the generation of sociologists whose work spanned the turn of the twentieth century. See any textbook on the history of sociological theory for a more complete list.

5Weber acknowledges that a concern with subjectivity limits the scope of sociology, such as its capacity to understand human behavior in tribal societies: "Our ability to share the feelings of primitive men is not very much greater" than our ability to share "the subjective state of an animal"-which is "at best very unsatisfactory" ([1922] 1978. Volume 1: 16).

<'So does Georg Simmel: Everywhere he addresses the subjectivity of individuals, such as the psychological dynamics of friendship, coquetry, sex, and love ([1908] 1950: 50-51, 324-329; see also Poggi 1993).

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DREAMS OF PURE SOCIOLOGY

Modern sociology remains classical.7 It is modern only in a chronological sense (but see, e.g., Luhmann [1984] 1995: xlv-xlvii; quotation in Sciulli 1994: 66). Modern sociologists commonly regard classical sociology as the most important sociology ever written (see, e.g., Collins 1986: xi, 5; Poggi 1996: 39, 46). They invoke it as the supreme authority (see, e.g., Alexander 1987: 28). They read it for inspiration, and teach it to their students. Many spend their entire careers reading and writing about classical sociology. They assume that every modern sociologist stands on the shoulders of classical sociologists and that every sociological theory is a version of classical sociology-Weberian, Durkheimian, Simmelian, and so on. And they are right: Modern sociology still has the psychological conception of social reality found in the classical texts. It still has a teleological strategy of explanation. It still places the person at the center of social life. Understandably, therefore, no one challenges classical sociology (see, e.g., Alexander 1987: 28). It has never become obsolete. If the classical works were to appear today-such as Weber's Economy and Society ([1922] 1978) and The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism ([1904-05] 1958) or Durkheim's The Division of Labor in Society ([1893] 1964) and The Elementary Forms of Religious Life ([1912] 1995)-they would still be acclaimed as major contribu- tions. The stature of classical sociology could hardly be greater (see, e.g., Parsons 1968: xiii; Alexander 1987: 31-32 and title of essay; Turner 1996: 15). It has never been ques- tioned, much less overthrown.

Pure sociology, however, is not classical sociology. It has a new conception of social reality and a new strategy of explanation. It answers questions unasked by classical sociologists and their modern counterparts. It solves a crisis unknown to either. The crisis is that sociology is not really sociological.

NORMAL SOCIOLOGY

In our student days we hear that sociology is the science of social life. Its subject is social, and its theory is social. Our teachers and textbooks tell us sociology is different from psychology-because it is not psychological. They tell us sociology is different from ideology and humanism-because it is scientific. They tell us we should read classical sociologists (such as Weber and Durkheim) to see how sociology is done. But sociology is actually not so different from psychology, and it is not so scientific either.

Virtually all sociology explicitly or implicitly addresses human subjectivity. Often it explains human behavior with the psychological impact of the social environment. Moti- vations and meanings are central. This applies, for example, to the sociology of deviant behavior, collective behavior, political behavior, religious behavior, legal behavior, medical behavior, and behavior in business organizations, schools, professions, families, and other groups. It also applies to fields such as social stratification, race and ethnic relations, and culture (including the sociology of science, knowledge, and art). All include subjective matters such as prestige, prejudice, perceptions, and beliefs. Even when the questions asked by sociologists are not explicitly psychological-when they seek only to explain particular patterns of human behavior-their answers are psychological, including answers based on psychological assumptions about human preferences and proclivities. Where then is the science of social life that is truly different from psychology?

And where is the science of social life that is truly scientific? Much is ideological-a critique of modern society. Much is humanistic-interpretations and arguments rather than predictions and explanations. Much is scholarship about scholarship, books about

7Although sociological theory-the explanation of human behavior-is still largely classical, sociology has otherwise advanced considerably in its methods of research (including statistical methods) and its accumulation of empirical findings (mainly on modern societies such as the United States).

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books, words about words. If explanatory at all, most is teleological: It explains human behavior as a means to an end. It assumes or imputes ends-goals, needs, values, interests- and then explains human behavior as a means to those ends.

Teleology has a bad reputation in sociology-but only when it attributes a mission or destiny to society as a whole. A well-known example is Karl Marx's theory that all societies inevitably progress toward communism (see, e.g., Marx and Engels in Feuer 1959; see also Popper [1961] 1964). We hear that teleology is unscientific because the goal or purpose of a society is unobservable and unknowable. We hear it is metaphysical. Yet other versions of teleology still dominate sociological theory. Virtually all sociology explains human behavior as a means to an end-a goal or purpose. Teleology is the superparadigm of sociology (Black 1995: 861-863). But it is bad science: Like the goal or purpose of society as a whole, the goal or purpose of human behavior of any kind is unobservable and unknowable (see idem: 861-864).

Sociology is unscientific in other respects as well. Research is often independent of theory, and theory is often independent of research. Because so much theory is untestable- unfalsifiable-it is mostly irrelevant to researchers, and research is mostly irrelevant to theorists. Moreover, most sociologists study only a single subject in their own society: Americans study American society, Germans study German society, Japanese study Japa- nese society, and so on. Many study only their own part of society: Many women study only women, many African-Americans study only African-Americans, many Hispanic- Americans study only Hispanic-Americans, and so on. Their research is largely practical and ideological, designed to assess the well-being of their society or part of society. Some search for inequality, injustice, or other conditions they wish to evaluate or expose. Others conduct surveys about modern life in the manner of political pollsters and consumer researchers. Who thinks what? How do they feel?

And theory? Much so-called theory is merely a discussion of other theorists, a clarifi- cation or elaboration of past ideas. Much is merely conceptual, a way to classify and describe human behavior. Even explanatory theory is mostly untestable-neither right nor wrong. What then is it?

Many sociologists believe sociology can never meet the highest standards of science- testability, generality, and so on. They lack a requirement of good science: the faith that they can do what seems impossible to others. They accept their inferiority in the world of science.8 Others totally or partially reject the standards of science. They regard the nature of sociology as a matter of personal opinion and claim the right to do whatever they like, scientific or not. Their sociology is not even classical. Classical sociology is more scientific.

In sum, from the beginning I was disappointed by the psychological, teleological, and ideological nature of sociology. Sociology had not met its obligation to be sociological, and sociologists lacked faith in sociology. I became a sociological fundamentalist and vowed to say only what is truly sociological or to say nothing at all. I dreamed of a genuine science of social life.

But what is truly sociological? What is social life'? These simple questions led to a new sociology with a new theoretical logic: pure sociology.

sHistoric figures in science, philosophy, and modern art virtually always believe their work is extremely important. A number of eminent scientists called their own work "revolutionary," for example, including Charles Darwin and Albert Einstein (see Cohen 1985: 46). Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein evaluated his first book in its preface: "The truth of the thoughts that are here communicated seems to me unassailable and definitive. I therefore believe myself to have found, on all essential points, the final solution to the problems" (1921: 5; italics omitted). Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called his work Thus Spake Zarathustra "the most exalted" and "the profoundest" book in existence ([1888] 1992: 5. italics omitted; see also 39. 42-45, 87). And Spanish painter Salvador Dali entitled his journal Diary of a Genius ([1964] 1986).

But how many sociologists regard their own work as historically important? How many claim it is revolutionary, or even that anyone else's is revolutionary'? I have never seen or heard such a claim.

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THE ELIMINATION OF PEOPLE

The subject of pure sociology is not human behavior in the usual sense. It is not the behavior of a person or a group of persons. It is a new subject in the history of science: the behavior of social life. Pure sociology thus violates common sense by removing humans from human behavior and eliminating what has always been central to the visualization of the subject, scientifically and otherwise: people. It reverses the direction of human action by reconceptualizing the action of a person or group as the action of a social entity such as law or science or art. Social action becomes truly social (compare, e.g., Weber [1922] 1978, Volume 1: 4, 8, 13-15; Parsons [1937] 1968; Luhmann [1984] 1995: 137, 165-177; 1990: 53-54; see also Black 1995: 859-860). Pure sociology completely contradicts the viewpoint known as methodological individualism-what Popper calls "the quite unassailable doctrine that we must try to understand all collective phenomena as due to the actions, interactions, aims, hopes, and thoughts of individual men, and as due to traditions created and preserved by individual men" ([1961] 1964: 155-156; see also Homans 1967: 61-64). Because social life such as law or science or art has no psychology of its own-no mind, no thoughts, no subjectivity-psychology totally disappears from sociology.

The conceptual leap from the behavior of people to the behavior of social life changes the identity of everything once viewed anthropocentrically-from the point of view of a person. The subject of legal sociology, for example, now becomes the behavior of law itself. A call to the police is an increase of law, a movement of law into a conflict. An arrest is also an increase of law, and so is a prosecution, conviction, or punishment. A severe punishment is a greater increase of law than a mild punishment. A civil lawsuit is an increase of law as well, and so is a victory for the plaintiff or an order to pay damages. Every action of every person in legal life becomes an action of law, and everything is simpler: With a single concept the behavior of law includes everything previously regarded as the behavior of diverse individuals such as citizens, police officers, lawyers, and judges. It also led to a new discovery: Law behaves according to the same principles everywhere-across all legal cases, all stages of the legal process, all societies, all times. Law obeys sociological laws.

Numerous formulations predict and explain variation in the quantity and style of law- without qualifications of any kind (see Black 1976). These formulations specify how law varies with its location and direction in social space-its geometry-such as its social elevation, whether it has an upward or downward direction, and the social distance it spans.9 They predict, for instance, more law at higher elevations, more in a downward than an upward direction, and more across greater distances in relational and cultural space-patterns actually found in diverse times and places (see, e.g., idem, 1989, 1995: 842-844). More formulations pertain to other kinds of conflict (e.g., Baumgartner 1988; Black 1995: 834-837,855, notes 129- 130; 1998; Senechal de la Roche 1996) 10 and to other phenomena such as the behavior of art, medicine, and supernatural beings (see, e.g., Black 1979b, 1995: 855-857).

Sociology is a matter of degree, and pure sociology is the most sociological sociology: It is entirely scientific and entirely uncontaminated by psychology or other sciences (compare Ward 1903; Simmel [1908] 1950: 21). It contains no assumptions, assertions, or implications about the human mind or its contents. It completely ignores human subjectivity, the con-

9Social space includes vertical, horizontal, cultural, corporate, and normative dimensions. Pure sociology predicts and explains social life with the shape of social space-social structure-where it occurs (see Black 1976; 1979b; 1995: 851-852). Neither macroscopic nor microscopic, the geometry of social space transcends the usual units of sociological analysis such as societies, communities, and persons.

'IFor other applications, tests, and extensions, see, e.g., (in alphabetical order) Baumgartner (1978, 1985, 1992, 1999: Chapter 1), Black and Baumgartner (1983), Borg (1992), Cooney (1994, 1997, 1998), Griffiths (1984), Horwitz (1982, 1990), Kruttschnitt (1982), Morrill (1992, 1995), Morrill, Snyderman and Dawson (1997), Mullis (1995), Senechal de la Roche (1997a, 1997b), Silberman (1985), Tucker (1989, 1999a, 1999b); see also the citations in Black (1989: 108, note 52; 1995: 844-845, note 88).

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348 SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY

scious and unconscious meanings and feelings people experience, including their perceptions, cognitions, and attitudes. And it has no teleology-no conceptions or explanations of human behavior as a means to an end, conscious or unconscious, individual or collective. It does not assume, assert, or imply that people have particular purposes or preferences, intentions or motives, interests or values, or that groups have particular needs or functions or goals. It does not attribute reasons or rationales to people for anything they do or fail to do. And because it removes people, it eliminates something universally regarded as indispensable to the understanding of human behavior.' All that remains is social life. In several respects, then, pure sociology is a radical departure from classical and modern sociology.

I now illustrate pure sociology with several formulations about the behavior of ideas, including the behavior of science and sociology-a pure sociology of knowledge. Ultimately I outline a theory of theory with practical implications for the creation of theory itself.

THE THEORY OF THE SUBJECT

An idea is a statement about the nature of reality (see Black 1979b: 157-160). Every idea has a social structure-a multidimensional location in social space-known by the characteristics of its source, audience, and subject. The source of an idea is its agent, the audience anyone to whom it is directed, and the subject anything it describes or explains.'2 The source and audience may be more or less intimate with the subject (relational distance), for example, culturally different (cultural distance), or engage in different activities (functional distance).13 The source is relationally close to the subject when someone talks about a spouse, friend, himself, or herself, for instance, while a mere acquaintance or stranger is more distant. The relational closeness of the audience to the subject is similarly variable.14 Note, too, that the subject might be anything at all, human or nonhuman.'5 It might be dead, alive, or inorganic-an animal, plant, or part of the physical world.'6 It might be a human creation-music, money, or a machine. It might be a theory, sociology, or God.'7

I The removal of people from sociology is similar to the removal of a recognizable subject (such as a person or landscape) from painting early in the twentieth century-also viewed as the removal of something indispensable (see Greenberg [1958] 1961: 208-209). Art without a subject is pure art-the most artistic art-entirely aesthetic and uncontaminated by practical utility. Anything pure is the most of itself, autonomous and free of everything else (see Bourdieu [1992] 1996: 223, 241, 248-249, 299: compare Latour [1991] 1993: 10-11). A purification is an essentialization: Something becomes the essence of itself. Russian painter Wassily Kandinsky thus spoke of "pure painting" and a "higher level of pure art" concerned with "painterly-spiritual essences" ([ 1911] 1982: 103: [1913] 1982: 353), and Dutch painter Piet Mondrian called for a "purification of art" that preserves only "the essence of art" (respectively, [1938] 1986: 302-303: [1936] 1986: 299).

12My concept of the subject is short for subject matter-as in the "subject index" of a book (compare, e.g., Bourdieu [1992] 1996: 206-208; Luhmann 1995: xxxviii-xliii).

13 Relational distance refers to the degree of participation in the existence of someone or something, such as the frequency, duration, breadth, and depth of contact, including the amount of information communicated about each (see Black 1976: 40-41). Cultural distance refers to a difference in the content of culture, such as differences between religions or modes of dress (idem: 74-75). Functional distance reters to a difference in activity, such as differences between occupations or daily responsibilities (a type of social distance separating men and women throughout human history that is now decreasing).

14Art that depicts reality, such as a painting or work of literature, likewise has a social structure that includes its subject. A painter is very close to the subject of a self-portrait, for example, but more distant from a less familiar or less similar human subject or a nonhuman subject such as a bowl of apples. The closeness of the audience to the artistic subject is variable as well.

15Partly because humans have contact with nonhuman as well as human reality, the jurisdiction of sociology extends beyond humanity (see generally Knorr Cetina 1997). It also extends to the social life of nonhumans (see Black 2000: 114-116).

'IAlthough humans may become highly intimate with a physical object such as an automobile, house, or computer, they ordinarily are functionally as well as relationally closer to living things-especially fellow humans and other animals but also plants such as trees and flowers. In many ways humans are functionally closer to fellow humans than to nonhumans, though all animals are somewhat close merely because they move, consume, and reproduce in a manner that resembles the behavior of humans.

'7Physicist Richard P. Feynman speaks of "falling deeply in love" with a particular theory when he was a young man and maintaining the relationship until the theory became "an old lady" who had "given birth to some very good children" (quoted in Traweek 1988: 102-103).




The Two-Directional Nature of Social Distance

Social distance is two-directional: measurable from both A to B and B to A. And it may be asymmetrical-unequal in each direction, the distance from A to B closer or farther than the distance from B to A. Such differences are obvious in relationships between humans and nonhumans: Humans may be intimate with virtually anything, living or not, while the reverse does not apply. Human relationships are often asymmetrical as well. A husband may be closer to his wife than is she to him, for instance-if he participates more in her life than she participates in his. The same often applies to friends and acquaintances. Asymmetrical relationships commonly involve an unequal flow of information between the parties, illustrated to an extreme degree by the one-sided closeness of those exposed electronically on television sets or computers, possibly celebrities known to millions, while their audience is entirely unknown to them.'8 Historical records allow a one-sided closeness with those long dead.

The two-directional and possibly asymmetrical nature of social distance is radically unlike physical distance, which is always equal in both directions. Pure sociology thus introduces a new geometry of reality unlike the geometry of earlier sciences such as physics and astronomy. The following pages feature the two-directional nature of social distance in the geometry of ideas.

What Is Important?

The social structure of an idea predicts and explains its success. The success of an idea is the degree to which it is defined as true and important-its magnitude. One idea is recog- nized as useful or even brilliant while another receives only mild approval or total indifference. How does the former differ sociologically from the latter?

Hold constant an idea's content, and its success partly depends on the social location of its source and audience.19 Who presents the idea to whom? One relevant variable is the closeness of the audience to the source: The magnitude of an idea is an inverse function of social distance from the audience (see idem: 159). An intimate's idea is more likely to succeed than a stranger's. Social elevation is relevant as well: Downward ideas are greater than upward ideas (idem: 158-159). A social superior's idea is more likely to succeed than a social inferior's.20

The success of an idea also depends on the social location of the subject. One factor is the subject's closeness: The magnitude of an idea is a curvilinear function of social distance from the subject. The success of an idea increases with the social distance of the source and audience from the subject until a point when it decreases.2' A statement about

8 Other distances in social space are two-directional and possibly asymmetrical as well. A might speak B's native language, for example, while B cannot speak A's-an asymmetrical distance in cultural space. Or A might receive information about B's great wealth while B has little or no information about A's wealth-an asymmetrical distance in vertical space.

Formulations pertaining to the behavior of social life in social space should recognize the two-directional nature of social distance. For instance, law may have relational direction from a closer toward a farther party, or vice versa, and the amount of law depends more on the distance from the complainant to the defendant than from the defendant to the complainant (compare Black 1976: 40-48).

19The content of an idea, such as the degree to which it is scientific or new, also predicts and explains its fate. But here I leave aside the content of ideas and focus entirely on their social structure-the shape of social space where they occur.

2"By social superior I mean someone with a higher social elevation-more social status. Social status includes vertical status (wealth, such as money or livestock), radial status (integration, such as employment or marriage), relational status (a degree of prominence, resulting from social ties to others), functional status (a level of performance, such as the points scored by a basketball player), cultural status (conventionality, such as the relative preponderance of a religion), and normative status (respectability, a condition that declines with the application of social control) (see Black 1976: Chapters 2-6).

- Theoretical sociologists do not always recognize curvilinearity in social life. For example, Durkheim presents three major propositions about egoistic, altruistic, and anomic suicide and a fourth (in a footnote) about fatalistic suicide ([1897] 1951: Chapters 2-5; 276, note 25), but these can be reduced to two curvilinear formulations: 1) Suicide is a U-curvilinear function of social integration (egoistic and altruistic suicide at the extremes), and 2) suicide is a U-curvilinear function of social regulation (anomic and fatalistic suicide at the extremes).

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a stranger is more likely to succeed than a statement about someone closer such as a colleague, spouse, or oneself. Courtroom testimony by a stranger to a subject is more likely to succeed than identical testimony by a subject's wife or mother. Even less likely to succeed is the subject's own testimony. The same principle implies that an idea in a physical or biological science (such as chemistry or biology) is more likely to succeed than an idea in sociology-because the human subjects of sociology are closer to humans than the nonhuman subjects of the natural sciences.22 For the same reason a sociological idea about a foreign or past society is more likely to succeed than an idea about the sociologist's own society. Because classical sociology was more comparative and historical than modern sociology, it was regarded as more important in its own time than is modern sociology today (see Elias [1987] 1994: 94). The same still applies to comparative and historical sociology: It attracts more recognition and respect than the sociology of modern life.

The success of an idea likewise depends on the social status of its subject: The magnitude of an idea is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject. An idea about a lower subject (such as the source's or audience's employee) is more likely to succeed than the same idea about a higher subject (such as the source's or audience's employer). Legal testimony about a social inferior is more likely to succeed than identical testimony about a social superior. Testimony about a homeless man, for instance, is more likely to succeed than identical testimony about a prominent politician (see Cooney 1994: 848- 851). The sociology of lower subjects (such as poor people or criminals) is more likely to succeed than the sociology of higher subjects (such as monarchs and states).

What Is Interesting.?

The social structure of the subject also predicts and explains what is interesting-what attracts ideas and attention (compare Davis 1971). The social distance from the source and audience is again relevant: The attractiveness of a subject is an inverse function of social distance. Relationally, culturally, and functionally closer subjects attract both more ideas and more attention. We can predict what people talk about, what they write and read about, and what movies, television programs, and other information they consume. Human subjects-especially living humans-are more attractive than nonhuman subjects, for example, and nonhuman subjects functionally close to humans (such as fellow mammals) are more attractive than other subjects (such as atomic particles). As one physicist remarks: "We don't study elementary particles because they are intrinsically interesting, like people. They are not-if you've seen one electron you've seen them all" (Weinberg 1998: 50). And one biologist complains that his subject-ants-never receives as much attention as monkeys and other vertebrates more "familiar" to humans (Wilson 1994: 135). The more a subject is studied, however, the closer and more interesting it becomes.

Among human subjects, one's own society, activities, intimates, and self are especially interesting: They attract more ideas and attention than subjects farther away in social space. More sociology therefore pertains to the sociologist's home society than to foreign or earlier societies. Whether a subject is interesting also depends on its social status: The attractiveness of a subject is a direct function of its social elevation. Higher subjects such as the rich and powerful attract more ideas and attention than lower subjects such as the poor and weak. The rich and powerful are more interesting to themselves as well.

But recall that ideas with closer and higher subjects are less likely to be defined as true and important. An implication is that ideas with more interesting subjects (also closer and

2-Economist Milton Friedman observes that the closeness of economics to everyday life impedes the success of economic ideas: "Familiarity with the subject matter of economics breeds contempt for special knowledge about it" (1953: 40).

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higher) are less likely to succeed. For example, ideas about human behavior occur at a very high rate and attract a great deal of attention: Everyone is an amateur psychologist and sociologist. Closer and higher humans are the most interesting of all. Yet ideas with closer and higher subjects are less successful. Although domestic sociology (on the sociologist's own society) is more common and attracts more attention than foreign sociology (on other societies), then, domestic sociology is doomed to be forever unimportant-forever disap- pointing. The same applies to the sociology of higher subjects, such as the sociology of law and religion. Sciences with nonhuman subjects are different: Natural scientists such as physicists and astronomers regard their ideas as more important than those of sociologists, and virtually everyone agrees-even sociologists.

The formulations above, however, logically imply nothing about the ultimate truth or value of any ideas (see Black 1979b: 159-160). The sociology of knowledge, including the sociology of science, implies nothing about whether any idea deserves special credi- bility or prestige (compare, e.g., Pickering 1984: 413-414; see also Mannheim 1936: 75-87, 286-306). Nor does it imply epistemological relativism-the view that no form of knowledge is better than another. Like moral or aesthetic relativism, epistemological relativism is itself an evaluation-an evaluation of evaluation (compare, e.g., Woolgar 1983; Fuchs 1992: 20-34). Ludwig Wittgenstein remarks that neither a moral nor an aesthetic evaluation derives from facts alone, and that the two are logically indistin- guishable: "Ethics and aesthetics are one and the same" ([1921] 1961: 147; see also Monk 1990: 277). But he does not go far enough: Ethics, aesthetics, and epistemology are one and the same.

THE THEORY OF SCIENTICITY

Science is a matter of degree-scienticity. The scienticity of an idea increases with its testability, generality, simplicity, validity, and originality.23 Testability is the capacity of an idea to predict facts,24 generality the diversity of facts it addresses, simplicity its economy of expression,25 validity its conformity with the facts,26 and originality its newness (see generally Black 1995: 831-847; see also, e.g., Friedman 1953; Jasso 1988). Super-

23 Another aspect of scienticity is facticity-the degree to which an idea pertains to an observable aspect of reality. Note that the scienticity of an idea pertains to its content alone and is logically independent of its origins, including the psychology and sociology of its occurrence (see Dahrendorf [1961] 1968: 8-11; compare Mann- heim 1936: 286-306).

Some regard objectivity as central to scienticity (e.g., Popper [1961] 1964: 152-156; Polanyi [1962] 1964: Chapter 1; Fuchs 1997). But if objectivity is a revelation of the one and only reality, it is scientifically unknowable. If it is mental, it is sociologically irrelevant. If it is an observable characteristic of an idea, it is an element of validity and is already included in my concept of scienticity.

24A prediction is a logical implication about quantitative variation. If an idea cannot be tested by counting something, its validity is unknowable (see Black 1995: 831-833). Even so, testability is a matter of degree. An idea is more testable than another if its implications are clearer and more readily observable. Ideas are merely suggestive if they do not imply predictions of a quantitative nature but nevertheless inspire research. The work of Karl Marx (e.g., Marx and Engels in Feuer 1959) is suggestive rather than testable, for example, and the same applies to sociological theorists such as Erving Goffman (e.g., 1959, 1967) and Pierre Bourdieu (e.g., [1979] 1984, [1992] 1996). Others, such as Talcott Parsons (e.g., 1951, 1954) and Niklas Luhmann (e.g., [1984] 1995, 1990), are hardly even suggestive: Their work inspires little research.

25The simplicity of an idea is measurable with its length, such as the number of words or mathematical notations it includes (Gell-Mann 1994: 30-34; McAllister 1996: 118-120; see also Black 1995: 838-841). Friedman comments that a scientific theory is simpler if it requires less "initial knowledge ... to make a prediction" (1953: 10). 26 The validity of a scientific theory is measurable with its precision: the degree to which the frequency and magnitude of its explanatory variable match the frequency and magnitude of the variable it seeks to explain. The highest validity is total precision. For instance, a theory that variable A explains variable B is highly precise if all As are also Bs and all Bs are also As, but less precise if only a few As are also Bs or only a few Bs are also As.

An example of a theory with low precision is that later-borns (children with at least one older sibling) are more likely to be highly creative than firstborns-which is said to explain major innovations in such fields as science, art, religion, and politics (Sulloway 1996). Its precision is low because most people are later-borns-all the more so in earlier societies with larger families-while very few are highly creative.

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natural and metaphysical ideas have little or no scienticity, for instance, whereas theories in physics and astronomy often have a great deal. These differences are predictable.

The social location of the subject is fateful: Scienticitv is a curvilinear function of social distance from the subject. Both very close and very distant subjects attract less scienticity. Scienticity increases with social distance until the subject disappears or becomes completely alien.27 This principle explains numerous differences across sciences, scientists, and nonscientists as well as aspects of the evolution of science, including sociology. First consider why some sciences are more scientific.

The Behavior of Science

The history of science is a history of relationships-commonly a history of contact with subjects once entirely unknown. The greatest scienticity occurs not where scientists are very familiar with their subjects, but where they are newly acquainted and largely distant. Science developed earliest and fastest where its subjects were extremely remote. First came astronomy, a science with a subject only barely observable: The earth-centered astronomy of Claudius Ptolemy was the most scientific body of ideas for nearly 1,500 years, until overturned by Nicholas Copernicus in the sixteenth century. Physics, a science now mostly dependent on experiments for contact with its subject, advanced dramatically in the seventeenth century with Isaac Newton's revolutionary ideas-especially his merging of astronomical and earthly science in the theory of gravitation. Chemistry had its revolution when Antoine Lavoisier introduced modern chemical classification in the eighteenth century (see generally Mason 1962). Biology, closer to its subject than astronomy, physics, or chemistry, had no revolution until Charles Darwin challenged the Biblical doctrine of divine creation in the nineteenth century. Sociology and psychology, the sciences with the closest subjects of all, came last-with the twentieth century. Astronomy and physics are still the most scientific sciences, while sociology and psychology are still the least.

Why did the sciences with nonhuman subjects arise earlier and become more scientific over time-more testable, general, and so on? And why did the sciences with human subjects arise and advance at all? An implication of my principle of scienticity is that science advances most when the subject is neither too far nor too close. Sciences with nonhuman and remote subjects must therefore overcome their distance, while those with human and familiar subjects must overcome their closeness. Both actually occurred: The physical sciences arose and became more scientific as their subjects became increasingly observable, while the social sciences did so as they reached beyond subjects previously too close and increasingly made contact with a more distant world. The nonhuman sciences advanced faster because they overcame their distance faster than the human sciences overcame their closeness.

Distant sciences such as astronomy and physics employed new means of observation such as telescopes, microscopes, and electronic instruments to become acquainted with subjects once completely invisible. Physicist Stephen Hawking notes that cosmologists could once observe hardly any of their subject-the universe as a whole: "Until the 1920s about the only important cosmological observation was that the sky at night is dark.... However, in recent years the range and quality of cosmological observations has improved enormously with developments in technology" (quoted in Hawking and Penrose 1996: 75). Cosmology is literally light-years from most of its subject, yet close enough for a considerable degree of scienticity. The tiny subject of particle physics-behavior in

27 Scienticity declines when information about a subject-a form of relational closeness-diminishes to a point when the behavior of the subject is invisible. It also declines when the subject is so distant functionally or culturally that its characteristics are completely foreign and incomparable to anything else.

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atoms-was entirely unobservable until the twentieth century, but the invention of particle accelerators (the largest scientific instruments in history) made this subject sufficiently visible for a high degree of scienticity (see, e.g., Segre [1976] 1980; Pickering 1984; Traweek 1988).28

Closer sciences such as biology and sociology advance by making contact with previously distant subjects as well. Darwin's revolutionary theory might never have occurred to him had he known only the flora and fauna of his native England and never taken his famous voyage on the Beagle to South America and its nearby islands. Especially valuable was the "strangeness" of the species in the Galapagos Islands (Desmond and Moore [1991 ] 1992: 170; see also Darwin [1859] 1967: 1; Sulloway 1996: Chapter 1). A close subject is a scientific handicap.

The Behavior of Sociology

Sociology took a great leap forward in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries- its classical period-when sociologists reached beyond their home societies. Classical sociologists devoured information about past and present societies around the world pro- vided by historians, explorers, missionaries, and other observers. But later sociologists mostly studied only their own societies, and comparative and historical sociology came to be regarded as a specialty. Scienticity declined. Some research methods-such as participant observation and in-depth interviewing-brought modern sociology even closer to its subject and subverted its scienticity still more. Modern sociology became less scientific than classical sociology.

The scienticity of each field and topic in sociology varies with its closeness to the subject as well. Close sociology is less scientific. Domestic subjects (located in the sociologist's own society and time) attract less scienticity than foreign subjects. Domestic sociologists are more practical and ideological, and also more concerned with unobserv- ables such as human meanings, motives, interests, and goals.29 Outsiders are more scientific: Social distance contributed to such respected works as French aristocrat Alexis de Tocqueville's study of American society ([1835-40] 1969), Swedish economist Gunnar Myrdal's study of American race relations (1944), and northern psychologist John Dol- lard's study of race relations in the American South (1937). Yet modern sociologists have gravitated increasingly to subjects ever closer to their own lives. Many study only their own race, ethnicity, gender, or locality.30 Once preoccupied with distant subjects below their own social elevation (slum dwellers and poor criminals), they increasingly shifted to closer and higher subjects (professionals and others like themselves) and undermined their scienticity even more. The sociology of white-collar crime, for instance, is more critical and otherwise unscientific than the sociology of blue-collar crime (Black 1995: 856, note 137). The sociology of knowledge-an especially close subject-is one of sociology's

28The particle accelerator's detector drastically reduces the social distance from physicists to particles: "The relationship between the scientist and nature is at its most intimate and physical in the detectors .... The con- summation of the marriage between scientist and nature in the detector sometimes leads to progeny for the proud scientist: a discovery" (Traweek 1988: 158-159).

29Some physicists are more scientific about human behavior than many sociologists: They dismiss anything "unconscious" as "unknowable" and "assert their ignorance of human motives" and "everything 'subjective'" (Traweek 1988: 91).

30The most scientific science is international-stateless-with a subject matter independent of the nationality of its practitioners: "Particle physicists from anywhere in the world are fond of remarking that they have more in common with each other than with their next-door neighbors" (Traweek 1988: 126). But sociology's largely domestic subject matter segregates most of it in particular nations. International interaction between sociologists will remain infrequent and shallow until the subject matter escapes its national boundaries.

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least scientific fields. Science itself was one of the last subjects to be studied scientifically. The sociology of sociology hardly exists.3

Closeness to the subject is also an occupational hazard of anthropologists and historians who study only a single society and period. Initially separated from their subject by a considerable distance in social space, their research brings them closer and reduces their scienticity. Traditional anthropologists literally live with their subject, a condition so intimate that many explicitly reject scientific standards such as generality and simplicity in social science (e.g., Geertz 1973; see also Cooney 1988: 22; Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 21).

Scienticity is everywhere lower where the subject is closer. Consider law: For centuries legal scholarship was pursued exclusively by those extremely close to law-lawyers, judges, and law professors-and hardly any scientific ideas about the subject existed. Many legal professionals continue to impute their own scientific incapacitation to everyone and insist that law is immune to science (see Black 1997). Yet when legal strangers such as sociologists and anthropologists began to study law, especially foreign law in foreign places, a

significant degree of scienticity occurred (see Cooney 1988: 20-27). Art resists science for the same reason: Most art scholars are too close to be scientific. Nearly all participate in art-whether as artists, collectors, critics, or historians-and nearly all insist that art is immune to science. But closeness to art, not art itself, is the enemy of science (see Bour- dieu [1992] 1996: Preface, 229-231, 296).32

The social status of the subject is also important. Ideas about lower subjects are more scientific: Scienticity is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject. Down- ward science (directed at subjects below the scientist) is more scientific than lateral or upward science. In sociology the poor attract more scienticity than the rich, the marginal more than the integrated, minorities more than majorities, criminal behavior more than legal behavior, the behavior of factory workers more than the behavior of corporate executives, and so on. American sociology was once primarily concerned with poor, disadvan- taged, and unrespectable people, and some of its most scientific work pertains to their behavior. The Chicago School of sociology of the 1920s and 30s, for instance, mainly studied those at lower elevations, such as slum dwellers, struggling immigrants, and petty criminals (e.g., Anderson 1923; Zorbaugh 1929). The closeness of the subject (in Chicago itself) nevertheless retarded its scienticity to some degree, especially its theoreticity. Anthro- pology also has the scientific advantage of an inferior subject (usually tribal people and peasants), though closeness to the subject likewise subverts its scienticity to some degree. Still lower are the nonhuman subjects of fields such as physics, chemistry, and biology. Particles, molecules, bacteria, and genes-subjects highly attractive to science-have no social standing at all.

Some science stratifies reality by ranking the explanatory power of its variables, while other science treats its variables more equally. Eminent physicist Ernst Mach, for example, rejected "every methodological axiom in science that smacked of privilege and status for any given body or event in nature" (Feuer 1982: 31; see also 32-34; Keller 1983b: 154- 157; 1985b: 170-171; Pickering 1984: 74; 1995: 250; Hawking and Penrose 1996: 76). Pure sociology similarly rejects the theoretical domination of any sociological variable,

31 The scienticity of the sociology of science increases with the social distance from the science studied: The sociology of the physical and biological sciences is more scientific than the sociology of the social sciences, for instance, and the sociology of foreign and earlier science is more scientific than the sociology of domestic and contemporary science (for examples of relatively scientific sociology of science, see Merton [1938] 1970, 1973; Crane 1972; Latour and Woolgar 1979; Pickering 1984).

-32Bourdieu comments: "If the science of works of art is still today in its infancy, it is probably because those in charge of it, and in particular art historians and theoreticians of the aesthetic, are engaged ... in the struggles which yield the meaning and value of the work of art: In other words, they are caught up in the object they would take as their object" ([1992] 1996: 296: see also 229-231).

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such as the domination of economic ownership in the theory of Karl Marx (e.g., Marx and

Engels in Feuer 1959), social solidarity in the theory of Emile Durkheim (e.g., [1893] 1964), or culture in the theory of Pierre Bourdieu (e.g., [1979] 1984). We cannot rank the

explanatory power of the various dimensions of social space (see, e.g., Black 1976, 1995: 851-852). The reason is logical rather than factual.

A principle of incomparability undermines any hierarchical theory that gives a privi- leged place to any variable or that otherwise ranks scientific variables lacking a common denominator-a common unit of measurement. To rank the explanatory power of variables we must compare equal amounts of each, measured by the same standard. Because the various distances and directions in social space (such as relational distance or vertical direction) have no such common denominator, we cannot compare their explanatory power. Although we can rank these or other variables for the practical purposes of a single study- where the comparisons reflect their measurement in one context-we cannot rank them in a theory that applies more widely, such as across societies and history. How can we compare, say, the impact of intimacy to the impact of economic superiority in legal or other matters? How much intimacy equals how much economic superiority? They have no common denominator. We therefore cannot compare the impact of equal amounts of each, and cannot rank their explanatory power.33 The only exception would be a variable with no explanatory power at all. The same principle of incomparability applies throughout science- wherever variables lack a common denominator. Why, then, does theory so often rank one variable over another?

The ranking of variables in science reflects ranking in the social environment: Hierar- chical explanation is a direct function of hierarchical space (see Durkheim and Mauss [1901-02] 1963; Schwartz 1981; Keller 1983b: 154-155). Theoretical domination by a single variable expresses social domination by a single authority. An implication is that one-dimensional theory in science-monotheorism-occurs in the same environment as monotheism in religion: monolithic authority (see Durkheim [1912] 1995; Swanson 1960: Chapter 3). Marxian theory, for example, is a dictatorial theory: One variable (capital ownership) is said to explain and thereby dominate everything else. Such a theory thrives best in dictatorial settings such as twentieth-century Russia, China, and various societies in Latin America. But the egalitarian theory of pure sociology-where no variable dominates another-thrives best in more egalitarian settings such as modern America and western Europe. Different theories inhabit different locations in social space, and theoretical change reflects social change (compare Kuhn 1962; but see Durkheim [1912] 1995: 8-18, 440-448).

Scientific revolutions commonly establish that something once regarded as constant is actually variable, whether the position of the earth (Copernicus), the characteristics of plants and animals (Darwin), the nature of space and time (Einstein), the size of the universe (Hubble), or the placement of the continents (Wegener). Pure sociology similarly shows that social phenomena previously regarded as constant are actually variable. The theory of law outlined earlier, for instance, implies that the law does not exist. Law varies from case to case. It is relative rather than universal (see Black 1976, 1989). The same applies to morality, ideas, and God (see idem 1995: 855-857). The discovery of new variation follows changes in the social location of subjects once too close or distant for a

33 Sociological studies that statistically rank the explanatory power of variables may have little or no theoretical relevance. On the one hand, for instance, because different amounts of wealth have a common denominator (a unit of value such as dollars), we can readily rank their impact on legal or other behavior. It is thus possible to theorize that law against economic inferiors is greater than law against economic superiors (Black 1976: 21-24). On the other hand, because different amounts of, say, wealth, intimacy, and cultural closeness have no such common denominator, we cannot rank their impact on law or anything else.

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higher level of scienticity. Scientific revolutions thus reflect transformations in the social structure of the subject (compare, e.g., Kuhn 1962).

The Behavior of Common Sense

The familiarity of a subject repels scienticity and attracts common sense-the popular understanding of reality in everyday life (see Geertz [1975] 1983; Black 1979a). Rarely are we scientific about our families, lovers, friends, or colleagues.34 Instead we endow them with free will and utter an unending stream of untestable ideas about the unobservable content of their minds.35 And who is scientific about the behavior of God? Surely not those close to God who pray as inferiors for favors or forgiveness (see Black 1995: 856- 857, 860). Never are we less scientific, however, than about ourselves. A similar lack of scienticity applies to subjects totally alien to us. Consider the explanation of human behavior.

Common sense ignores science and says that our closest subjects, such as our nearest associates and ourselves, have free will and do as they please. They are not mere products of their environment. Nor are those in distant societies and the distant past. The reason is that the explanation of human behavior with free will-voluntarism-occurs under conditions opposite those of scienticity: Voluntarism is a U-curvilinear function of social distance from the subject (compare Black 1995: 856, note 137; Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 18-22). The same applies to teleology, the explanation of anything as a means to an end. When all subjects were either very close or very distant, teleology dominated all science. Copernicus, for example, even had a teleological theory of gravity:

Gravity is nothing else than a natural appetency, given to the parts by the Divine Providence of the Maker of the universe, in order that they may establish their unity and wholeness by combining in the form of a sphere. It is probable that this affection also belongs to the sun, moon, and the planets, in order that they may . . . remain in their roundness (quoted in Mason 1962: 130).

But teleology in the natural sciences steadily declined during the past several centuries (see Burtt 1954: 18-19; Feuer 1982: 352; Black 1995: 861-863). It survives mainly in the human sciences such as sociology and psychology.

The explanation of human behavior with factors beyond the control of the person- determinism-occurs under the same conditions as scienticity: Determinism is a curvilinear function of social distance from the subject (compare idem: 856, note 137). Deterministic

explanation implies that people cannot behave otherwise than they do. They lack the free will of our intimates and ourselves.

Even close nonhumans are endowed with free will. People close to nonhuman animals (such as their research subjects or domestic pets) often speak of them as if they were humans and explain their behavior as a free choice (see, e.g., de Waal 1989, 1996; see also

34Simmel notes an incompatibility between intimacy and generality, most extreme in the case of lovers: "In the stage of first passion, erotic relations strongly reject any thought of generalization: The lovers think that there has never been a love like theirs, that nothing can be compared either to the person loved or to the feelings for that person" ([1908] 1950: 406, punctuation edited). The same applies to every element of scienticity in every close relationship: Scientists are unscientific about their colleagues, for instance, and sociologists are unsociological about fellow sociologists.

35The theory of the subject includes the subject's subjectivity-psychological experience. Although we cannot directly observe subjectivity, we can observe its attribution by others (including self-attributions). These attributions are predictable and explainable with their location and direction in social space. The goal or purpose attributed to a person's action depends, for example, on the social closeness and elevation of the action. We can thereby predict and explain attributions of subjectivity in social science as well as everyday life. The same applies to the goals and purposes attributed to groups.

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Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 21-22). Tribal people and others close to nature likewise attribute feelings and choices to the animals they hunt, fish, and farm, and to close insects, crops, and trees (see, e.g., Frazer [1890] 1981, Volume 1: 60-108; Volume 2: 90-147). The Ojibwa of southern Canada say that trees feel pain and wail when cut, for instance, and some Indonesian tribes and European peasants beg the pardon of the trees they fell (idem, Volume 1: 58-61). Modern people, including scientists, may adopt the same style toward close nonhumans: "My Boston fern looks unhappy. It must want some water" (see also Keller 1983a: 198-200). One physicist even speaks of electrons and other atomic particles that "want to do this or that" (Christopher Stevens, personal communication).

Social status is also relevant to the explanation of human behavior: Voluntarism is a direct function of the social elevation of the subject (Black 1995: 856, note 137). And contrariwise: Determinism is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject (idem). Common sense says that social elites such as kings and generals freely choose to act as they do. So does God. But sociology says that the poor and lowly lack free will: Forces beyond their control determine their behavior (e.g., Cohen 1955; Miller 1958). The rich who exploit or otherwise victimize the poor have free will, then, but not the poor who victimize the rich.36

THE THEORY OF THEORY Common sense says that theories derive from facts. But philosopher Karl Popper long ago observed that a theory can never be logically deduced from the facts it explains: The so-called logical induction of a theory is impossible ([1934] 1968: 27-32; see also Witt- genstein [1921] 1961: 143). He added more generally that "there is no such thing as a logical method of having new ideas" (idem: 32). Creativity is always necessary (idem). Albert Einstein makes a similar point about scientific laws: "There is no logical path leading to these laws; only intuition, resting on sympathetic understanding of experience, can reach them" ([1923] 1934: 22; see also Friedman 1953: 42-43).37 Biologist Peter Medawar notes that because a theory contains more information than the facts it explains, it cannot be deduced from facts alone (1963: 377). Philosopher Paul Feyerabend goes further and argues that no rules or methods of any kind can assure the advancement of science, theoretical or otherwise (1975; compare, e.g., Glaser and Strauss 1967; Stinchcombe 1968).

Yet scientific theory is human behavior, and nothing excludes the possibility of explain- ing scientific theory scientifically-as a natural phenomenon. A theory of theory specifies

36 A sociological version of voluntarism is phenomenology-the explanation of human behavior from within the subjective experience of a person. Sociology is more phenomenological when the subject is closer and higher in social space: Phenomenology is a joint function of the social closeness and superiority of the subject (see Black 1995: 856, note 137). A sociological version of determinism is motivational theory-the explanation of human behavior with the psychological impact of social forces. Sociology is more motivational when the subject is farther away and lower in social space: Motivational theory is a joint function of the social remoteness and inferiority of the subject. These formulations predict, for example, a more phenomenological explanation of closer and higher crimes such as those of professionals and business people ("white-collar crime"), but a more motivational explanation of farther and lower crimes such as those of poor minorities ("blue-collar crime") (idem).

We can also explain the explanatory variables in sociological theories. For example, some motivational theories explain human behavior with variables close to the behavior in space and time, such as theories that explain human behavior with peer pressure-the direct and immediate influence of one's associates. Other motivational theories explain human behavior with more distant variables, such as theories that explain human behavior with the cultural values of a society. More distant subjects attract more distant explanations: The spatial and temporal distance of an explanatory variable is a direct function of social distance from the subject. We thus explain the behavior of our intimates with variables close to them in space and time (such as their own intentions), but we explain the behavior of strangers with more distant variables (such as the values of their society). Because Freudian psychotherapists are somewhat close to their patients, they explain the patient's behavior with close influences (in the family), but because they are also somewhat distant, their explanations pertain to family experiences in the distant past (in early childhood).

37A scientific law is an idea with an extremely high degree of scienticity-testability, generality, simplicity, validity, and originality.

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the conditions that lead to the creation of scientific theory, including itself (see Black 1995: 856, note 137). The theory of scienticity sketched above implies such a theory.

Scientific theory is the most scientific science. Only theory can attain all the elements of the highest degree of scienticity-testability, generality, simplicity, validity, and originality-at once. The best conditions for scienticity are therefore the best conditions for scientific theory.38 The theory of scienticity explains why some sciences and scientists are more theoretical than others, and has practical value as well: It is a theory that implies how to develop theory.

The theory of scienticity implies that theory is a curvilinear function of social distance from the subject. We can thereby explain why the physical sciences have the most theory with a high degree of scienticity while the social sciences have the least. The physical sciences have more theory because their subjects are more distant (while still close enough to be observable). Subjects in the social sciences are often too close or too far away. Within each science as well, some scientists are more theoretical because their subjects have a better theoretical location in social space. The same theory explains the lack of theory beyond formal science, such as the lack of theory in tribal and other simple societies. Tribal societies do not lack descriptive science (such as botany or zoology) but only theoretical science-explanations of their observations (Lingis 1994: 1-2). The reason is that tribal reality is polarized: Virtually everything is either entirely local or entirely foreign, too close or too far away for the development of scientific theory.

Most scientists never invent theory either, especially theory with a high degree of scienticity. The reason is that most do research.39 Researchers theoretically incapacitate themselves by becoming too intimate with their subjects. Many have an exclusive relationship with a single subject and disregard almost everything else. One eminent biologist (known for her observations of genetic mobility) speaks almost maternally of the corn plants she studied for decades: "I start with the seedling, and I don't want to leave it. I don't feel I really know the story if I don't watch the plant all the way along. So I know every plant in the field. I know them intimately, and I find it a great pleasure to know them" (Barbara McClintock, quoted in Keller 1983a: 198; see also Keller 1985b: 164-165). Another biologist (who later stopped doing research and became more theoretical) notes that years of experiments made his enzymes "as familiar as old friends" (Kauffman 1995: 81, 99). Still another speaks romantically of cells: "Here is a cell. It has been going around all the time, and nobody has taken any notice of it. Suddenly you fall in love with it. Why? You, the scientist, don't know you're falling in love, but suddenly you become attracted to that cell" (Anna Brito, pseudonym, quoted in Goodfield [1981] 1982: 226).

Although celebrated theorists may do research in their early years, their theories usually appear only after they become full-time theorists. Many have no research experience at all. The most celebrated theories in physics, for instance, were largely developed by full-time theorists such as Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, and Werner Heisen- berg.40 The same applies to cosmology, the most theoretical field of astronomy. Biolo- gists James Watson and Francis Crick likewise developed a theoretical model of the DNA molecule (central to the understanding of genetic inheritance) without doing any of their own research on the subject (Crick 1988: 65). The revolutionary theory of continental drift in geology was not even formulated by a geologist, but by astronomer and meteo-

38 "Theory" hereafter refers to ideas with a comparatively high degree of scienticity. Exceptions are apparent in the text.

39By "research" I mean primary research-the gathering of data and production of findings. 4"'About one-half of all particle physicists are full-time theorists; the rest are experimentalists (Traweek 1988: 3).

The only experiments some theorists conduct are so-called thought experiments-by which they imagine empirical reality under hypothetical conditions never actually observed. Einstein, for example, is famous for his exper- imental fantasies (see, e.g., Miller 1996: 312-320).

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rologist Alfred Wegener (Cohen 1985: 446-450). Major theorists also typically follow a nomadic way of scientific life, moving from subject to subject, never too close to any.41

Youth is an advantage for the same reason: It limits intimacy with the subject (suggested by Roberta Senechal de la Roche). Darwin was 29 years old when he formulated the theory of natural selection, for example; Einstein was 26 when he published the special theory of relativity; and Heisenberg was 23 when he initiated the theory of quantum mechanics and 25 when he propounded his famous uncertainty principle that ended classical causality in particle physics (Pais 1991: 275-276, 304-306; see also Simonton 1984: Chapter 6). Watson and Crick were newcomers to molecular biology when they formulated the structure of DNA: Watson was a postdoctoral fellow only 24 years old, while Crick was a graduate student of 36 who had migrated to the field from physics (Watson [1968] 1969; Crick 1988: 6, 65). In theoretical science, too much experience may be harmful.

Social isolation is another condition conducive to the highest achievements in science-to originality, for example (also called creativity, imagination, innovation, and inventive- ness). Philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer long ago observed that "The genius lives essentially alone. He is too rare to be easily capable of coming across his like, and too different from the rest to be their companion" ([1859] 1969, Volume 2: 390). Philosopher Michel Serres similarly remarks that originality "always takes place in solitude, independence, and freedom"-relational isolation ([1990] 1995: 37; see also 81-82; Storr 1988). Also important are cultural isolation (such as the marginality of migrants or minorities) and functional isolation (exclusive involvement in a single activity): Creativity is a direct function of social isolation. In this respect, moreover, the social structure of theory differs considerably from the social structure of research.

Scientific research typically occurs in social networks of colleagues known in the sociology of science as "invisible colleges" (see generally Crane 1972). Often research is a team project that includes a number of individuals working closely together in the same organization (see, e.g., Collins 1975: Chapter 9; Whitley 1984; Fuchs 1992: Chapter 7). But such research is relatively routine-what Thomas Kuhn calls "normal science" (1962: Chapters 2-4). Rarely does it lead to creativity of the highest degree, such as the development of revolutionary theories. Far from it. As one fictional scientist remarks, "Highly organized research is guaranteed to produce nothing new" (Herbert [1965] 1990: 496). Instead, the most acclaimed theories occur under opposite conditions-in isolated locations in social space. Consider the most illustrious thinkers-the Newtons, Einsteins, Nietzsches, and Wittgensteins-at the height of their creativity. All were loners devoted to their own projects.42 In their early years their new ideas isolated them all the more.

The theory of scienticity-and the theory of theory it implies-pertains not only to the creation of scientific ideas but to their acceptance and application by others. The social location of the most receptive audiences, including those most receptive to radically new ideas, is the same as the social location of the sources: those comparatively distant from the subject. For this reason, young people and other newcomers to a field (including students) more readily accept and apply its newest and most scientific ideas (suggested by Roberta Senechal de la Roche). Scientific revolutions primarily attract the support of younger scientists while their senior colleagues cling to older ideas about their older sub-

41 Weber notes that "dilettantes" without close knowledge of a subject often outperform "specialists" in the development of theory: "Many of our very best hypotheses and insights are due precisely to dilettantes" ([1919] 1958: 135-136). 42

Although social isolation is conducive to creativity, it is not conducive to the success of creative work: Because social isolation has a low elevation and distant location in social space, isolated ideas are less likely to succeed than ideas in social networks (see section above entitled "What Is Important?"). But sponsorship by a more integrated person or network may win recognition for an isolated idea that might otherwise be ignored (see also Latour 1987; compare Collins 1998).

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jects (see, e.g., Feuer 1982). When the audience is too close to the subject, the greatest advances in science meet indifference if not resistance and hostility (see, e.g., Barber 1961; see also Black 1976: 82).

All the above applies equally to social scientists: Least theoretical are researchers long intimate with a single subject in a particular time and place, such as anthropologists who study a single tribe or area, historians who study a single period of a single society or

region, and sociologists who study a single topic in their own society and time. Especially damaging to the creation and reception of theory is participant observation or other close contact with the subject (see Cooney 1988: 22; Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 18). Closeness to a human subject breeds an involvement with the subject's mind and undermines the creation of ideas with a high degree of testability, generality, and other attributes of scienticity (see Black 1995: 856, note 137; see also Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 18-21). If you are close enough to imagine the subjectivity of a subject, you are probably too close to be theoretical.

Yet most sociologists know their subject only in their own society and time and have little information about anything else. Those who study inequality or religion or violence in modern America, for example, rarely know anything about these subjects in tribal, ancient, medieval, or other societies unlike their own. As noted earlier, classical sociolo-

gists were more cosmopolitan: They exploited information from numerous societies across

history. They were nomadic as well, moving from one topic, place, and time to another

(compare Brekhus 1998: 47-48). Most modern sociologists are too close to their subject to develop theory comparable to classical theory.

Researchers often criticize theorists for not doing research, and theorists often criticize researchers for not doing theory. But such criticisms are unsociological. Re- searchers and theorists have opposite locations in social space: Research is close to its subject and sedentary while theory is more distant and nomadic. It is difficult to do both at once.

But not all modern sociologists are too close to their subject to develop scientific

theory. Some are too far away. The prolific theorist Talcott Parsons did virtually no research and moved nomadically from subject to subject (see, e.g., 1951, 1954). Even so, he did not exploit or explain the findings of other sociologists, anthropologists, or historians. Distant enough from his subject to be theoretical, he was nonetheless too distant to achieve a high degree of scienticity: He produced only general concepts and classifi- cations rather than testable formulations, and his writings have little value to researchers. Another prolific theorist, Niklas Luhmann, was similarly uninvolved in factual reality and produced similarly unscientific theory. Researchers were useless to him, and his writ-

ings are equally useless to them (see, e.g., [1984] 1995, 1990). Theorists such as Parsons and Luhmann promiscuously publish thousands of theoretical pages, a mode of scholar-

ship possible only when the actual behavior of the subject is irrelevant. Each published a small library, but neither owns a single formulation that meets all the standards of scien-

ticity.43 Still less scientific are those who write only about the writings of earlier sociol-

43 Scientific productivity is often measured with publications. But scienticity varies inversely with the number of pages published by an author. Albert Einstein's special theory of relativity appears in a paper only 30 pages long; Charles Darwin's first statement of the theory of natural selection (with independent co-discoverer Alfred Russel Wallace) is only 17 pages long; James Watson and Francis Crick's structural model of DNA is only one page long (with double columns); and Max Born's major contribution to quantum theory-the probability concept in quantum mechanics-appears in a footnote (Pais 1991: 285-286). A better measure of scientific productivity is the number of testable, general, simple, valid, and original formulations in an author's work-its scienticity. By this measure Max Weber, for instance, would do poorly. When not merely historical, his work is mainly conceptual rather than explanatory. Emile Durkheim does better, though his total number of testable and general formulations is probably fewer than ten. The Division of Labor ([1893] 1964) has two-both wrong (see Black 1987: 568). Suicide ([1897] 1951) has four (counting one in a footnote).

360




ogists (e.g., Poggi 1972; Lukes 1973; Bierstedt 1981; Alexander 1982-83). The history of sociology is not even sociology.

Every epistemology reflects the social structure of its subject. Many sociologists endorse the pessimistic epistemology of sociology that flowered in Germany over a century ago: Sociology was classified as one of the cultural sciences (Kulturwissenschaften or Geisteswissenschaften) whose human subjects were claimed to differ fundamentally from the subjects of astronomy, physics, and other natural sciences (Naturwissenschaften). Human subjects allegedly lie beyond the reach of genuine science and forever condemn the cultural sciences to scientific failure (see, e.g., Ringer 1997: Chapters 1-2). One modern sociologist declares, for example, that the pursuit of sociology in the manner of natural science is "misguided" and "utopian" (Alexander 1987: 22-23). Sociology cannot even establish a fact, much less a theory about human behavior: "From the most specific factual statements up to the most abstract generalizations, social science is essentially contestable. Every conclusion is open to argument" (idem: 25). Social science is ideological as well- inherently evaluative: "The ideological implications of social science redound to the very descriptions of the objects of investigation themselves" (idem: 21). Another modern sociologist remarks that "a century's experience now suggests" a truly "scientific theoretical sociology" is "beyond anyone's grasp" (Turner 1996: 15).

These philosophers of failure assume that all sociology has a close subject, including human thoughts and feelings. They believe it must address "either mental states or conditions in which mental states are embedded," and "any generalization about the structure or causes of a social phenomenon ... depends on some conception of the motives involved" (Alexander 1987: 21, 29; see also Winch 1958; Homans 1964, 1967: Chapters 2-3). Yet they themselves commonly contemplate human behavior from afar, without facts about anything. Their scientific pessimism reflects the unscientific location of their subject: too close or too far away.

* * *

Now consider the methodological implications: Do you wish to develop sociological theory with a high degree of scienticity? If so, my theory of scienticity can help you succeed. It specifies social locations especially attractive to scientific theory: subjects neither too close nor too far. It implies several rules of theoretical method-sociological rules that enhance your chances of being successful.44 They tell you where to go and what to do. Obey these commandments:

1. Leave home: Find subjects in other times and places. 2. Be a nomad: Move from subject to subject. 3. Be a parasite: Subsist on the findings of others. 4. Avoid intimacy: Do not get too close to your subject. 5. Avoid people: Study social life.

44Because they specify a means to an end, Durkheim would classify these methodological rules as "rules of technique" ([1906] 1953: 42). Their violation reduces the likelihood of sociological theory with a high degree of scienticity.

Feyerabend argues against all methodological rules in science: Scientific progress requires creativity, and creativity does not obey rules (1975: especially 10, 23, 27-28). But he does not consider the possibility of a scientific theory that implies how to develop scientific theory or encourage creativity (compare Serres [1990] 1995: 86).

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THE THEORY OF ITSELF

I dreamed of pure sociology, and my dreams came true. Pure sociology explains why.45 It came into being where science and theory flourish: neither too close nor too far from the subject.

First I stopped doing research. I left my society, and I left the present. I began reading anthropology and history, wandering across social space from one place and time to another. Soon I discovered a strange and mysterious subject: the behavior of law. It was an unfamiliar form of life that everywhere obeyed its own principles. It attracted a high degree of scienticity as well as a new sociology-without psychology, teleology, or people. Pure sociology.

I lost contact with the classical tradition and became a stranger to my fellow sociologists. I studied the behavior of science and the behavior of sociology itself. Then came a scientific theory of why most sociology is so unscientific and a theory of why it has so little theory: Most has an unscientific and untheoretical location-either too close or too far from its subject. Most sociologists study only their own society in their own time. Others sit in armchairs and do not study reality at all. Whether too close or too far, few believe that sociology is really a science or that sociological laws are possible. They blame the complexity of human behavior, they blame subjectivity, and they blame free will. But the problem is the social structure of their own sociology: They study only themselves, or

nothing. The subject is hopeless.

THE GHOST OF THE PERSON

What does it all mean?

We are agents of countless forms of social life fluctuating across the social universe. We obey principles we do not know and cannot change. Our actions are social, chosen no more than we chose to be born. Our ideas are social as well, attracted by the social structure of our lives. We conform to the shape of social space. Geometry is destiny.

Who, then, is speaking?

I am the voice of pure sociology. I speak a new language. I travel social space, habitat of social beings, a form of life both human and unhuman. I explore unknown locations, calculate distances in uncharted directions, measure quantities never counted. My subject is everything, I go everywhere, and I live in the past, present, and future at once.46

I am sociology becoming itself. I study the behavior of social life, the laws of law, the laws of art, the laws of God. I am the science of science, the theory of theory.

I myself am social, and I predict myself. I am post-personal. Post-human.47

And I am notorious. I killed the person. I am the end of the classical tradition. The end of Western thought.48

45Luhmann regards a theory as "universal" only if it "claims to be able to describe every phenomenon in its field," including "itself" (quoted in Sciulli 1994: 54). It must be "self-referential" ([1984] 1995: xlvii). Yet he speaks only of what a theory can "describe"-not what it can explain. His own theory can classify many things, including itself, but it cannot explain itself or anything else.

46Norman Mailer on Picasso's Cubist paintings: "One had to find a way to paint works that would embody past, present, and future all in one" (1995: 311; see also 310; Ball [1927] 1996: 43; Mondrian [1938-44] 1986: 362; Snyder 1974a: 88; 1974b: 114). Scientific theory with the highest degree of generality is timeless and placeless as well.

47The concept of post-human derives from Douglas Coupland (1996: 85). 4SSuggested by Roberta Senechal de la Roche. The Western tradition of humanism places the person at the

center of the universe. Pure sociology makes the person irrelevant.

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But you said you dreamed of pure sociology. What is a dream? What science is this? What theory? It sounds like a person. It is just common sense.

Remember the theory of the subject: I am talking about myself. The subject is very close, and science is forbidden. The structure is commonsensical. The structure even dreams.

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