Epistemology of Social Science, ISSJ Unesco Vol. XXXVI, No. 4, 1984

Published quarterly by Unesco

Vol. X X X V I , No . 4, 1984

Editor a.i.: AM Kazancigil Design and layout: Jacques Carrasco Picture research: Florence Bonjean

Correspondents Bangkok: Yogesh Atal Beijing: Li Xuekun Belgrade: Balsa Spadijer Buenos Aires: Norberto Rodríguez Bustamante Canberra: Geoffrey Caldwell Cologne: Alphons Silbermann Delhi: André Béteille Florence: Francesco Margiotta Broglio Harare: Chen Chimutengwende Hong Kong: Peter Chen London: Cyril S. Smith Mexico City: Pablo Gonzalez Casanova Moscow: Marien Gapotchka Nigeria: Akinsola A k i w o w o Ottawa: Paul L a m y Singapore: S. H . Alatas Tokyo: Hiroshi Ohta Tunis: A . Bouhdiba United States: Gene Lyons

Topics of forthcoming issues: International comparisons Food structures Education Youth

Cover: Eye reflecting a theatre, drawing by the French architect Nicolas Ledoux (1736-1806). Edimcdia '

Right: The mystery of human mind, drawing from Robert Fludd, Utriusque Cosmi Historia (1619). Explorer

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INTERNATIONAL SOCIAL SCIENCE JOURNAL

0020 8701

EPISTEMOLOGY OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 102

Ernest Gellner

Stefan Nowak

Emérita S. Quito

Claude Ake

Philippe Braillard

Edmund Burke III

Milton Santos

T . V . Sathyamurthy

G . B . Benko

Jacques Lombard

Editorial 565

General analyses

The scientific status of the social sciences 567

Philosophical schools and scientific working methods in social science 587

Value as a factor in social action 603

Commodification of the social sciences 615

Disciplines

The social sciences and the study of international relations 627

The institutionalization of sociology in France: its social and political significance 643

Geography in the late twentieth century: n e w roles for a threatened discipline 657

The social science sphere

Development research and the social sciences in India 673

Regional science: evolution over thirty years 699

The teaching of anthropology: a comparative study 713

Books received

Recent Unesco publications 725

' ' - 727

Editorial

There are ways in which scientific activity resembles the practice of a sport. A sportsm a n must observe his movements and analyse them in detail, in order to improve his performance. Similarly, the researcher should not overlook professional self-analysis and reflection about the direction and scope of his work, finding theoretical and methodological ways to improve his results and better dominate his subject.

Indeed, this type of analysis cannot be isolated from research activity itself. This is of particular importance in the case of the sciences of m a n and society, where the relations between the researcher and his field of research present certain special characteristics different from those prevailing in the sciences of life and nature. H o w e v e r , the epistemológica! foundations of social science research are not always explicitly stated; neither are they analysed as systematically as they should be. T h e theory of knowledge provides opportunities for a refreshing look at the social sciences, provided that the Charybdis of obsessive preoccupation with epistemology is avoided as clearly as the Scylla of a narrow-minded empiricism.

T h e articles in this issue are devoted, to such a self-examination of the social sciences, and present viewpoints on certain of their epistomological, axiological and institutional aspects. Ernest Gellner raises the question of ascertaining whether the social sciences should be admitted into the exclusive club of the sciences. C a n the social world be studied

scientifically, or should it be left to the philosophers and poets? Gellner has no ready-m a d e answer to offer, but he eloquently demonstrates the weakness of attempts to exclude the social sciences from the scientific realm. Stefan N o w a k broaches the relations between the scientific methods used in sociology and various philosophical schools and shows h o w methodological choices indicate philosophical and epistemological preferences. Emérita Quito's contribution analyses the relations between values as an object to be studied, and values as factors influencing social science research. Claude A k e offers an approach that could be called a political economy of the social sciences, showing that the latter, operating under the constraints of market laws and within an environment dominated by exchange value and not use value, are commodified. T h e last three articles of the thematic section are epistemological analyses of specific disciplines in various contexts. E d m u n d Burke III studies the social and economic forces that shaped the institutionalization of sociology in France, at the turn of the century, Philippe Braillard discusses the case of international relations, and Milton Santos, that of geography.

The texts that appear in 'The Social Science Sphere' are not foreign to the thematic section: T . V . Sathyamurthy describes the striking growth of the social sciences in post-independence India; G . B . B e n k o writes about regional science, an interdisciplinary field that has developed over the last few

566 Editorial

decades; and Jacques Lombard provides a historical account of the teaching of anthropology in Belgium, the Federal Republic of Germany, France, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom.

Past issues of the ISSJ devoted to topics related to the current one include: Vol. X V I , N o . 4, 1964; Vol. X X , N o . 2, 1968; Vol. XXII, N o . 1, 1970; Vol. X X I V , N o . 4, 1972; and Vol. X X I X , N o . 4, 1977. The complete list of back issues is provided at the end of this volume.

W e take this opportunity to inform our readers of a recent change in the editorial team. Peter Lengyel, editor of this Journal since 1963, has left Unesco, which he joined in 1953. His career in the service of the Organization, devoted to m a n y aspects of international co-operation in the social sciences, was characterized above all by his achievements with the ISSJ.

A . K .

[Translated from French]

\

The scientific status of the social sciences

Ernest Gellner

The idea of the 'scientific'

T h e problem of whether the social sciences are genuinely scientific immediately raises two questions: W h a t are the social sciences? W h a t is it to be scientific?

T h e first of these questions raises no deep problems and can be answered by ostensión or by enumeration. T h e social sciences simply are what social scientists professionally practise. The definition thus contains a covert (but hardly very covert) reference to the consensual or m a - , jority or uncontested judgements prevalent in contemporary societies and identifying, by their tacit or express ranking, which universities, professional associations, individuals, are as it were norm-setting or paradigmatic and, in effect, de-

Ernest Gellner, formerly at the London School of Economics and Political Science, is now Professor of Anthropology at King's College, Cambridge, United Kingdom. His main publications are Words and Things (1959), Thought and Change (1965), Saints of the Atlas (1969), Muslim Society (1981) and Nations and Nationalism (1983).

fine, by their o w n attribution of labels, the nature and range of the social sciences.

This covert reference to public opinion or consensus does not vitiate the definition or m a k e it circular. Majorities, consensus, the general cultural 'sense of the meeting'—all these are of course not infallible or stable or unambiguous. There is no contradiction in the suggestion that public opinion at a given date is in error. If such sources can be mistaken,

could they mislead us in this case, by falsely identifying the object, or cluster of objects, with which w e are to be concerned, namely the social sciences? N o . T h e central object of our inquiry is precisely the social sciences, as actually practised and identified in contemporary societies. Public opinion, however loosely defined, cannot here mislead us, because the object that concerns us is, precisely, one defined by reference to current

cultural norms. W e m a y of course also be interested in s o m e trans-social, culturally neutral, ideal social science, if there is such a thing; but our primary concern is with the concrete practices recognized currently as 'social sciences'.

But the situation is quite different w h e n w e c o m e to the second term, which needs to be defined—'scientific'. Here , ostensión or enumeration

are of no help whatever. W e are not specially interested in the question of what society happens to call 'scientific', or at any rate, the actual use of this label by our contemporaries is not conclusive. A s a matter of fact, society is disunited on this issue, and there is a lot of very significant pushing and pulling going on about just h o w far the blanket of the 'scientific' is to reach. But w e are not interested in holding a referendum about this, or in seeing which of

568 Ernest Gellner

the m a n y warring groups manages to impose its view at any given time. Instead, w e are deeply concerned with s o m e normative, genuinely authoritative sense of 'scientific'. W e are interested in finding out whether the social sciences are really scientific.

This is in itself an interesting and significant fact. In formulating our question— A r e the social sciences scientific?—we seem to employ for our subject a term which is defined conventionally or by denotation—anything currently in fact called by that n a m e , ipso facto falls under it—while our predicate is Platonistic or normative, and intended not be be at the mercy of h u m a n w h i m or convention. T h e rules of its application are meant to be based on s o m e higher, independent authority.

O u r sentence thus seems logically a hybrid—the subject is nominalistic or conventional, the predicate is Platonistic, essentialist and prescriptive. Is such double-talk permissible? I do not think this situation is actually all that anomalous or unusual. But it is significant.

If both terms were defined conventionally, by reference to the actual or majority or agreed use of the term, the question would be easy to answer and lack any profundity or importance. All w e should need to do would be to commission a survey, set up to find out whether and to what extent people use one label ('social sciences') in a manner such that it falls within the range of use of another and broader label ('scientific'). But no such survey would in fact be felt to be relevant, or at any rate conclusive, to the question which w e are effectively asking. ,

This 'Platonism of the predicate', which obliges us to treat the term in question as though it referred to something constituted quite independently of our choice and custom, and endowed with authority over us, is interesting and significant.

Note that it is an old and pervasive feature of discussions concerning the delimitations of 'science' or 'meaning'. Those famous demarcation disputes had all the passion and intensity of circumscribing the

saved and the damned , of defining the licit and the illicit, of discovering an important and given truth, and not of just allocating labels.

Conventionalism with respect to the delimitation of concepts was only invoked, with some embarrassment and visible lack of conviction, w h e n the theorist found himself cornered by, for instance, the insistent question concerning the status of the 'verification principle' itself. W a s it itself an experiential report, or a convention determining the limits of a term?

The pretence was maintained that the verifiability demarcation of meaning or of science was merely a convention of ours. But the real spirit in which this delimitation was proposed was obviously quite different. It was propounded as an objective, authoritative, Platonic norm. It circumscribed cognitive salvation.

There is not a shadow of doubt that discussions concerning what is and is not 'scientific' are carried on in this utterly Platonistic, normative and non-conventionalist spirit. These are debates about whether something is really, really scientific. T h e debates seem based on the assumption that what is at issue is an important conceptual boundary, in the very nature of things, and altogether beyond the reach of what w e choose to call what.

Another explanation is available: w e are not conceptually rigid because w e are Pla-tonists; w e become Platonists because w e are conceptually rigid. It is w h e n concepts constrain us, that w e turn Platonist malgré nous. W e cannot always choose our concepts, and our concepts do often have authority over us. M a n can do as he will, but he cannot will as he will; and he cannot always choose his concepts at will. Sometimes they have an authority over us w e cannot resist. A n d w h y are w e in s o m e cases so conceptually rigid, and w h y do w e allow ourselves to be bondsm e n to the values and imperatives incapsu-lated in s o m e ideas?

Generically, one m a y say that this happens because some cluster or syndrome of


features, locked in with each other in this or that concept of a given language or style of thought, has good reasons, so to speak, for being locked in with each other in just that manner, with that particular set of ingredients, and for having some kind of compulsive hold over our thought. Moreover, the moral charge, positive or negative, with which such concepts are loaded, cannot be prised away from them. The reasons that lead to the crystallization of such concepts binding a cluster of traits m a y be general or specific; they m a y be inherent in the h u m a n condition as such, or they m a y be tied to some definite social or historic situation. But the overall formula for this occurrence must be something like this: situations arise (and sometimes persist) which impel a given speech and conceptual community to think in terms of a concept T, defined in terms of attributes, a, b, c, etc. ; moreover it is of great importance for the community as to whether a given object or practice does or does not fall under T, is part and parcel of the very life, use and hence operational definition of that concept. So is its moral charge. S o m e conceptual boundaries have an importance for given societies, which arises from the very nature of their situation, and which cannot be abrogated by fiat.

There is no doubt in m y mind that, in modern society, the concept of the 'scientific' is precisely of this kind. W e need it, and it cannot but be an important and authoritative notion. A s so often, w e m a y or m a y not be able to specify precisely what it is that w e m e a n by it; what m a y be called Socrates' paradox, namely that it is possible to use a notion without being able to define it, does apply here, as it does so often. But whatever it is that goes into the cluster of traits which defines the idea, the idea is indisputably important, and is so to speak non-optional. W e do not k n o w precisely what it is, but w e do k n o w that it is important and that w e can'not tinker with it at will.

The idea of the 'scientific' is such a notion. But it has not always been so. N o doubt it has some mild affinity with the old desire to define true knowledge as against

mere opinion, and with the even m o r e acute concern with the identification of the true faith. In the latter case, w e k n e w only too well w h y the notion was so important: personal salvation and damnation depended on it. But the demarcation of the scientific, though it m a y overlap, certainly is not co-extensivè (let alone co-intensive) with either true knowledge or with the true faith.

If this be granted, then what is it?

Sociologizing science to the second degree: Popper and Kuhn

T h e 'scientific' has not been a crucial and authoritative notion in all ages and all societies. In societies in which the institution of the 'sage' was well established, it was natural that the preoccupation with the distinction between real and spurious knowledge, genuine and fraudulent access to recipes for good lifestyles and excellence, should become widespread. It was a kind of consumer protection service for those w h o entered the marketplace for wisdom and counsellor services about the 'good life'; and it seemed to provide the first powerful stimulus for the development of the theory of knowledge. In the days of competing putative messiahs, the criteria for identifying the true one seemed to be demonstratively spectacular rather than epis-temological. B y the time Revelation came to be monopolized and scripturally codified, the central preoccupation became, naturally, the identification of the unique or nearly unique point of revelation, and of the authenticity of the putatively unique message, messenger, or of the permanent institution or series of personal links between the authentic point of communication and the present. Against the background of these various institutional and doctrinal assumptions, each of these questions, and no doubt other variants of them, m a d e sense. Although they do have some overlap and affinity with the question that concerns us here, obviously they are not identical with it.

The main point of overlap is that in all of

570 Ernest Gellner

these questions, m e n were concerned with the validation or legitimation of more specific claims, in terms of some more general criteria. W h e n one determines whether or not something is 'scientific', one is ipso facto deciding whether or not it has a certain legitimate claim on our attention, and perhaps even on our credence. T h e status of being 'scientific' is not necessarily the only or the dominant way of conferring such authority on specific claims; but it is most certainly at least one a m o n g such widely heeded and respected ways of validation. T i m e was when it was not even one a m o n g m a n y ; when it was, in fact, u n k n o w n .

This, to m y mind, is a crucial clue. W e need first of all to identify those background social conditions that have engendered this particular manner of validation, which bring forth this n e w and potent notion or 'the scientific', and e n d o w it with authority.

This automatically pushes our inquiry into a sociological direction—by obliging it to be sensitive to and concerned with general differences in kinds of society. At the very least, w e shall need to be concerned with the difference between the kind of society that does and the kind that does not engender the concept in question.

There are at least two ways of approaching the problem of defining 'science': the philosophical and the sociological. T h e philosophical can be characterized as follows: the practitioner of this approach works in terms of s o m e kind of model of discovery or of the acquisition of knowledge, where the elements in that model are items drawn from individual activities, such as having ideas, experiences, setting up experiments, relating the lessons of experience or the results of experiments to generalizations based on the initial ideas, and so forth. A n extreme individualistic theory of science would be one that offered a theory and a demarcation of science without ever going beyond the bounds of a model constructed in this w a y . Such a theory might concede or even stress that, in fact, scientists are very numerous and that they habitually co-operate and communicate with each other.

But it would treat this as s o m e h o w contingent and inessential. A Robinson Crusoe could, for such a theory, practise science. Given resources, longevity, ingenuity and ability, no achievement of science as w e k n o w it would, 'in principle', be beyond his powers. Those w h o hold theories of this kind are not debarred from admitting that, in fact, criticism, testing and corroboration are, generally speaking, social activities, and that they depend for their effectiveness on a mathematical, technological and institutional infrastructure, which is far beyond the power of any individual to establish; but they are, I suppose, committed to holding that whether or not a social environment makes these preconditions available is, as it were, an external condition of science, but not in any essential way part of it.1

There are various ways and degrees of injecting a sociological element into such an individualistic vision. Minimally, one might insist that society constitutes an essential precondition—but only society as such, and not necessarily this or that kind of society. Emile Durkheim would be an example of such a position: he held that thought was impossible without conceptual compulsion, which in turn depended on the existence of society and, above all, on communal ritual. This, if true, turns society into an essential pre-condition of science and, indeed, of all thought; a genuinely pre-social individual, however able, long-lived and well-equipped, could never rise to the formulation of a general idea.2

A second degree of the sociologizing of the theory of science involves insisting not merely on the presence of a society, but of a special kind of society. Popper's theory of science seems to be of this kind: society is not enough, the w o m b of science requires the 'critical spirit'. Closed societies cannot engender science but an 'open society' can do so. A n open society is one in which m e n subject each other's views to criticism, and which either possesses institutional underpinning for such a practice, or at least lacks the institutional means for inhibiting it. Popper's views on this matter have a number of


LE PROVOCATEUR DE PLOIE Promethean Science: the rainmaker, D . R .

572 Ernest Gellner

aspects that m a y not be altogether in harmony. W h e n stressing the continuity of trial and

error as the basis of all cognitive advancement throughout the history of all life, it would seem that the core secret of scientific method is something w e share with all organic life and never needed to learn. ( W e have only someh o w learnt to do it a bit faster and to show mercy to carriers of unsuccessful ideas.) N o special institutions seem to be required. In the context of turning the tables on relativists w h o invoke the h u m a n inability to overcome prejudice and interest, however, Popper seems prepared to concede that m a n y (perhaps most?) m e n are unwilling to correct their o w n views in the light of contrary considerations, and perhaps even need prejudice to m a k e discoveries at all; but he insists that science is the kind of institution that is not at the mercy of the virtues or vices of the persons w h o m a n it. Public testing by a diversified and uncontrollable community of scientists ensures the ultimate elimination of faulty ideas, however dogmatic and irrational their individual adherents m a y be. In this version, science and its advancement clearly does depend on the institutional underpinning of this public and plural testing. O n the other hand again, in the context of the discussion of the origin of the scientific spirit, Popper is inclined to invoke the figures of heroic, Promethean Ionian founder-liberators, w h o s o m e h o w overcame their o w n h u m a n proclivity to dogmatism, and encouraged their disciples to criticize, thereby inventing science. T h e Ionian proto-Popper plays a role in this system, similar to that of the philosopher in The Republic: he and he alone, by his somewhat mysterious emergence, can break through the vicious circle, to which otherwise mankind is in thrall.

Popper's overall philosophy is curious in that science had to be invented in h u m a n history, when seen as the great act of liberation from the 'closed society', though it had not originally needed inventing in the general history of life, for the amoeba had it as its birthright. Within nature, organisms eliminated faulty hypotheses by eliminating each other. Savage, pre-scientific m e n also glee

fully eliminated each other, but not hypotheses; for some reason they allowed ideas to survive, or rather they uncritically preserved them, instead of eliminating them. Harsh with each other, they showed tender solicitude for ideas. Modern scientific m e n eliminate hypotheses, but not each other, at any rate w h e n on their best behaviour. The curious consequence of Popper's philosophy of history is that there is a kind of Dark A g e or Fall, which took place between the, first emergence of humanity and the beginnings of science and the open society. The amoeba's birthright was lost somewhere during the early tribal, over-collectivistic period of h u m a n history, and was miraculously, heroically recovered in Ionia. It is interesting that the Dark A g e theory is shared by Christianity, Marxism and Popper, though in different forms.

The second currently most influential philosopher of science, T h o m a s K u h n , would also seem to sociologize the subject to the second degree. Society appears in his view to be essential for the existence and advancement of science, and not just any society will do: it has to be one endowed with a paradigm. There appear to be societies not so endowed—for instance, the community of social scientists.3

A s far as one can m a k e out, the crucial differentia between science-capable and science-incapable societies in this view is just this—the absence or presence of a paradigm. K u h n does not seem to have any views concerning the difference between scientific and ««-scientific paradigms; a crucial weakness in his position, to m y mind. Paradigms seem to be not merely incommensurate, but also to constitute a curiously undifferentiated class. T h e prophet of their incommensurability seems to have little sense of h o w very different in kind they are—that some of them are more incommensurate than others. But in so far as the importance of paradigms, and the fact that they are socially carried, perpetuated and enforced, leads him openly and avowedly to turn to sociology, he does lay himself open to Popper's taunt: Which sociology is the


philosopher of science to use? Which sociological paradigm m a y he trust, when using sociology to grapple with the general problem of the nature of science, so as to illuminate the standing of all sciences, including sociology itself? B y making all scientific activity relative to paradigms, and the philosophy of science dependent on sociology (which is presumably no more exempt from paradigm-dependence than any other science or inquiry), his position would seem to have an element of circularity in it.4

W h a t concerns us h e r e is this: both Popper and K u h n sociologize the philosophy of science to the second degree, i.e. they m a k e science dependent not merely on the sheer existence of society, but on the availability of a special kind of society.

T h e manner in which they do so, h o w ever, is contrasted and indeed diametrically opposed. For Popper, the only science-capable society is one so loosened up in its social control as to permit criticism even of its most respected sages (or better still, perhaps, one endowed with institutional guarantees of:

the possibility or even the encouragement of such criticism); for K u h n , science is m a d e possible only by the presence of social-conceptual control sufficiently tight to impose a paradigm on its m e m b e r s at most (though not quite all) times, notwithstanding the fact that paradigms are not logically, so to speak objectively, binding. They are m a d e binding by social pressure, which thus makes science possible. Unless the deep questions are arbitrarily prejudged, science cannot proceed, it appears. But just as T h o m a s Hobbes insisted that any sovereign is preferable to anarchy, so T h o m a s K u h n insists that any paradigm is preferable to the dreadful freedom of contemporary social scientists, ever questioning and1

debating fundamentals and for that very reason, through their great 'openness', inhibiting the emergence of genuine science in their o w n midst.

It is not necessary here to choose between the near-anarchism of Popper and the authoritarianism of K u h n , recommending loyalty to paradigms at most times though

evidently retaining the right of occasional rebellion (during similarly ill-defined, and I think in principle indefinable, conditions of 'scientific revolution'). W h a t is relevant for our purpose is to single out an error that they both share. T o define science, one needs to sociologize the philosophy of science to the third, and not merely the second, degree. It is not sufficient to allow the relevance of society and to distinguish between science-capable and science-incapable societies; it is also necessary to m a k e this distinction in terms of features of society that do not pertain to their cognitive activities alone, and to consider those societies w h e n involved in activities other than cognition. W e shall need to look at the impact of cognition on its other activities. This, in m y terminology, is to sociologize the subject to the third degree; and it needs to be done. H o w is it to be done?

Characteristics of science-capable societies

If w e are to understand w h y the notion of being scientific is so potent, w h y this accolade is so very significant, w e must look at what it is that 'science' does to society, and forget for a m o m e n t the usual and fascinating question of h o w it manages to do it. Philosophical theories of science, such as those that are incorporated in various philosophical attempts to demarcate science, basically endeavour to answer the question concerning h o w it is that science works, h o w it is that the great miracle of scientific progress and consensus is achieved. But from the viewpoint of identifying what it is that confers such magic and charm onto science, w e must look not so m u c h at h o w it is done, but what it is that is done which is so enchanting. W h y is it that science makes so m u c h difference to society, that a special prestige attaches to any activity that m a y be included within its charmed circle, and can be withheld from anything that fails to qualify as 'scientific'?

This contrast, as I formulate it, somewhat simplifies a m o r e complex reality: philosophers of science are of course also concerned

574 Ernest Gellner

with the features of the output of science, with the kind of theory it produces. Nevertheless, that tends to be a datum for them: their problem is—How was it achieved? It is the sociologist w h o is concerned primarily with the effects and implications of the kinds of knowledge that science provides. In the interest of simplicity of exposition, I shall pretend that this division of labour is neater than in fact it is.

This question as posed can best be answered by offering a highly schematic but nevertheless relevant sketch history of m a n kind—one that divides this history into three stages. Trinitarian philosophies of history are c o m m o n : there is for instance Auguste C o m -te's theory of the religious, metaphysical and positivestages, or Sir James Frazer's doctrine of the successive dominance of magic, religion and science, or Karl Polanyi's less intel-lectualist account of the succession of the c o m m u n a l , redistributive and market societies. T h e n e w pattern of world history which is n o w crystallizing in our time and which constitutes, I believe, the unofficial, unformulated and sometimes unavowed, but tacitly pervasive view of history of our age, is somewhat different. It shares some of the intellectualism and the high valuation of science with the Comtist and Frazerian schemes, though it is m o r e preoccupied than Frazer at least with the impact of science on the ordering of society.

T h e crucial stages of h u m a n history are the following: first, that of hunting and food-gathering; then, that of food production (agriculture and pastoralism); and, finally, that based on production, which is linked to growing scientific knowledge. Theories of historical stages in terms of social organization do not work: it is the cognitive productive

; base that seems to provide the 'big divide'; and on either side of the big divide w e find a diversity of social forms. In the present context, the world of hunters and gatherers does not greatly concern us. But the difference between the agrarian and the scientific/ industrial world does concern us a very great deal.

T h e notion of a fully developed agrarian society includes not merely that of reliance on food production, but also two other important features: literacy and political centralization. Developed agrarian societies are marked by a fairly complex but relatively stable division of labour. But it is a mistake to treat the division of labour as a, so to speak, homogeneous commodity: its implications for society vary according to just what it is that is being turned into a specialism. Literacy and political centralization, the emergence of a clerisy and a polity, have quite distinctive consequences, which cannot simply be assimilated to the minor economic specializations that occur within the process of production taken on its o w n .

Agro-literate polities are not all alike. In fact, they differ a great deal a m o n g themselves. T h e diversity of agrarian political regimes is well k n o w n . T h e clerical classes of agrarian polities also vary a great deal in their organization, recruitment and ethos. In one place, they m a y be part of a single, centralized, and jealously monopolistic organization; in another, they m a y be a loose and open guild, open to all m e n of pious learning. Elsewhere again, they m a y be a closed but uncentralized caste, or constitute a bureaucracy selected by competitive examination, with an administrative but not a religious monopoly.

Notwithstanding this variety, certain important c o m m o n or generic traits can be observed. Recorded knowledge in such societies is used for administrative records, notably those connected with taxation; for communi cation along a political and religious hierarchy; as parts of ritual and for the codification of religious doctrine, which has a kind of shadow in the form of word magic, the compliment paid by manipulative magic to scriptural religion. Conservation of the written truth, and possibly its implementation, are central concerns, rather than its expansion in the form of acquisition of more truth. (Cognitive growth is not yet a plausible ideal.) Despite inner complexity, sometimes very considerable, both the status systems and the

The scientific status òf the social sciences 575

'Cognitive despair'. Roger-Viollet.

576 Ernest Gellner

cognitive systems within such a society tend to be fairly stable, and the same tends to be true of its productive system. T h e normative and conservative stress, on the written word, in the keeping of the clerisy, tends to produce a cultural dualism or pluralism in such a society, a differentiation between the great (literate) tradition and little tradition or traditions. Parts of the written great tradition m a y contain general ideas of great penetration and potential, or acute and accurate observations of reality, or deductive systems of great rigour; none the less, generically speaking, one m a y say that a corpus of this kind s o m e h o w or other had no firm grip on, and cumulative penetration of, nature. Its main significance and role, lies rather in social legitimation, edification, record-keeping and communication, and not in a genuine cognitive exploration of nature. W h e n it comes to the manipulation and understanding of things, the cognitive content of the corpus tends to be inferior to the skills, such as they are, of the craftsman or artisan or working practitioner. T h e cognitive despair expressed with such vigour in the opening speech of Goethe's Faust is clearly a commentary on this situation.

With less anguish and perhaps m o r e indignation, and with a missionary zeal on behalf of a putative alternative, a similar sentiment can be found, for instance, in what might be called the p a n - h u m a n or carte blanche populism of Michael Oakeshott.5

Oakeshott's work enjoyed a considerable vogue in post-war Britain, and he probably continues to be the United Kingdom's foremost conservative political philosopher. His w o r k is highly relevant for the present purpose because, at its base, there is a premiss that is half-epistemological, half-sociological, and which runs as follows: genuine knowledge is 'practical', which means that it is maintained and transmitted by the practice of a skill, and can be perpetuated only by a living tradition; and its content can never be adequately seized in written' documents, and certainly cannot be transmitted from one m a n to another by writing alone. The illusion that

this can be done, which endows abstract and written assertions with independent authority, he names 'rationalism', in a highly pejorative sense, and he clearly holds it to be the bane of modern life. Oakeshott's doctrine vacillates somewhat between, on the one hand, a global pan-populism, endorsing all traditions, and damning all their scholasticisms, which they develop w h e n they adopt writing and printing and take it too seriously, and, on the other hand, the endorsement of one specific and blessed tradition, which, thanks presumably to an unwritten constitution, c o m m o n law, and the pragmatic wisdom of W h i g politicians, has resisted 'rationalism' somewhat better than others—though about 1945, it did so less well than it should and aroused his wrath. If it is the achievement of one distinctive tradition, can it also be a valid recipe for all of them—without implicitly contradicting its o w n central principle, namely the absence of any abstract and universally valid principles?

T h e reason w h y this Oakeshottian position is highly relevant for our argument is this: whether or not it provides a good diagnosis of the political predicament of modern m a n , it does unwittingly provide a very accurate schematic account of the role of abstract knowledge in the agro-literate polity. It is a rather good account of the relation between codified knowledge and practical skills in the agro-literate polity—but only in the agro-literate polity. T h e scriptures, law codes, epics, manuals and so forth, in the keeping of its scribes, jealously preserved and fairly stable over time, are not superior to the inarticulate practical wisdom of the life-long m e m b e r of the clan or guild. They echo, formalize, distort and travesty that wisdom; and though, contrary to the anti-'rationalist' diatribe, reverence for the codified version of the wisdom m a y on occasion be beneficial— because, for instance, reverence for the codified rule makes it less amenable to opportunist manipulation—nevertheless it is true that the absolute authority claimed for the writ in the scribe's keeping is not justified. The written theory is parasitical on the lived praxis. So be it; or at any rate, so it was,


once, in the agro-literate polity. It is so no longer.

But it is conspicuously untrue of modern science and the society based on it. A s a social p h e n o m e n o n , modern natural science has a number of conspicuous features: 1. Though not completely consensual, it is

consensual to an astonishing degree. 2. It is intercultural. Though it flourishes

m o r e in some countries than in others, it appears capable of persisting in a wide variety of cultural and political climes, and to be largely independent of them.

3. It is cumulative. Its growth rate is astonishing. This is also, a m o n g cognitive systems in general, unique.

4. Though it can evidently be taught to m e n originating in any cultural background, it requires arduous and prolonged training, in thought styles and techniques that are in no w a y continuous with those of daily life, and are often highly counter-intuitive.

5. T h e continuously growing technology it engenders is immeasurably superior to, and qualitatively distinct from, the practical skills of the craftsmen of agrarian society.

It is these features, or others closely related to them, which have engendered the persistent and haunting question—what is science? T h e question is no longer—what is truth, wisdom or genuine knowledge? M e n possessed by the haunting question concerning the nature of science do not necessarily deny that knowledge or truth also exist outside science; they do not all say, as an anti-scientistic book once ironically put it, 'extra scientiam nulla salus'.6

But they are generally imbued with the sense of the distinctiveness of this kind of k n o w ing, and wish to locate its source. They do not want to kill the goose that lays the golden eggs, they only wish to identify it, so as to use it to the full, and perhaps to guide it to n e w fields. (Some do wish to equate knowledge with scientific knowledge, not because they despise and abjure pre-scientific cognitive styles, but because they consider them to be basically similar to science, being merely earlier and feebler, and to deserve the same

label. I believe this kind of 'continuity thesis' to be mistaken.)

This, as it were, external, sociological account of science, described from the viewpoint of what it does to the cognitive m a p and productive processes of society (leaving aside the question of its inner mechanics, the secret of its success), m a y of course be challenged. It m a y be denied that science constitutes the victory of trans-social, explicit, formalized and abstract knowledge, over privately, ineffably communicated insights or skills or sensitivities. It m a y be asserted that the golden-egg-laying goose is not, after all, radically distinct from the old practical skills. The perception and understanding of a scientific problem, the capacity to propound and test a solution, 'requires—it can be argued—some flair or spirit or 'personal knowledge' which is beyond the reach of words or script, and which cannot be formalized. Fingerspitzenge-fuehl (adroitness) is alive and well, and, more important, remains indispensable. Michael Polanyi was only one adherent, though possibly the best k n o w n one, of such a view.7

It is difficult to say h o w one could evaluate this claim. It is sometimes supported by arguments such as the infinite regress of formalization, which can never catch up with itself;8 whatever is asserted is only a case of 'knowing that', and presupposes further practical 'knowing h o w ' to apply it—and if that in turn is articulated and m a d e explicit, the initial argument applies once again, and so on for ever. O r it can be supported by the widely held and plausible view that while there can be a logic of testing, there is no logic of discovery—only free-floating, uncontrollable inspiration, which comes or does not c o m e as it wills, but appears to be m o r e willing to descend upon well-sustained, but elusive and indefinable, research traditions.

But even if all this is admitted, what matters from the social viewpoint is that the ratio, the entire balance, between ineffable practical skill or flair on the one hand, and explicit formal knowledge, is transformed out of all recognition in a science-using, industrial society. Even if an element of flair or tra-

578 Ernest Cellner

dition, which is beyond words, is crucial for the occasional outstanding great n e w discovery, or, in small regular doses, for the sustaining of a vigorous research tradition, yet the enormous mass of ordinary research and technological activity works quite differently: it rather resembles the old explicit scholasticisms of agro-literate society, except in one crucial way—it works. Scholasticism, for all its ineffectiveness, seems to have been a good preparation of genuinely productive vigour. Talmudic societies take to science with alacrity. .

Its general implications for the society which uses science are also fairly obvious. A society endowed with a powerful and continuously growing technology lives by innovation, and its occupational role structure is perpetually in flux. This leads to a fair amount of occupational mobility and hence to a measure of equality, which, though not sufficient to satisfy out-and-out egalitarians, is nevertheless far greater than that of most agrarian societies. It is egalitarian because it is mobile, not mobile because it is egalitarian. Mobility, frequent abstract transmission of ideas, and the need for universal literacy, i.e. fairly context-free communication, also lead to a completely n e w role of culture in society: culture is linked to school rather than h o m e and needs to be fairly homogeneous over the entire catchment area of an educational system. A t long last, 'great traditions' really dominate, and to a large extent supplant, 'little traditions'. So the state, which once m a y have been the defender of the faith, n o w becomes in effect the protector of a culture. In other words, the modern national state, (based on the principle—one state, one culture) becomes the n o r m , and irredentist nationalisms emerge where this norm fails to be satisfied. T h e unprecedented.potential for growth leads to cornucopianism, the attempt to buy off discontent and to smooth over social conflict..by incremental Danegeld all round—and this in turn, as w e n o w k n o w only too well, becomes a dreadful trap w h e n , the incremental Danegeld having become an engrained, as-of-right expectation, the cornu

copia temporarily dries up or even just slows d o w n , as from time to time in the nature of things it must.

These seem to be the generic traits of science-using society. They differentiate it profoundly from most or all agrarian societies, which are Malthusian rather than growth oriented, cognitively and productively stable rather than growing (innovations when they occur involve changes of degree rather than kind, and in any case come as single spies, not in battalions). Theories of historical stages or epochs in terms of social organization (capitalism/socialism is the most popular) seem to have failed, in as far as science-using (i.e. industrial) society appears to be compatible with diverse forms of organization, within the limits of their shared generic traits; but those traits, in turn distinguish it from all its predecessors. T h e question about the nature of science is in effect the issue of the nature of this distinctive style of cognition, which in turn defines an entire stage in the history of mankind.

Some main philosophical theories of science

Philosophical theories of science, as here defined, do not define science, as was done above, in the sociological manner, in terms of what it does to society. They tend to ignore that. Instead, they try to identify the secret that enables it to do it.

It is impossible to list here all the contending theories in this field, and even if w e listed them, w e would have no way of deciding between them. There is no consensus in this area. Science m a y be consensual; the theory of science is not.

But it is worthwhile, for our purpose, to list some of the main contenders: 1. Ultra-empiricist: stick to observable facts.

Accumulate them, and only go beyond them w h e n the accumulated data strongly point in.some one direction. A b o v e all, do not trespass into the transcendent! This cautious version of empiricism, associated


with B a c o n or H u m e , and surviving in m o d e r n behaviourism, has been m u c h decried of late. Its detractors do not always fully appreciate the fact that the interdict o n cognitive trespass once had a great value. T h e belief systems of agrarian societies were often so constructed as to b e cunningly self-maintaining in a circular w a y , and the 'interdict o n trespass' w a s the best w a y of eliminating these.

2. The Kantian diagnosis, which is a mixture of the 'interdict on trespass' with reco m m e n d e d daring within proper bounds, and within the conceptual limits allegedly imposed by the structure of the h u m a n mind.

3. Collective self-propulsion by the resolution of internal contradictions, with deference to privileged praxis—the praxis of the privileged class is a privileged praxis—and to the direction of a prescribed social development. This is the nearest I can get to formulating one of the theories of knowledge c o m m o n l y associated with M a r x i s m .

4 . M a x i m u m daring of hypothesis within the limits of testability, the Popperian theory.

5. Obedience to a given background picture (thus eliminating the chaos characteristic of unscientific subjects, and ensuring c o m parable w o r k and thus cumulation) except at rare, 'revolutionary' occasions, which cannot be generically characterized nor presumably predicted, and which then lead to a progressive replacement of one background picture by another. Within the limits of this theory, which declares these successive background pictures to be incommensurate, there cannot however be any rational w a y of showing that the post-revolutionary picture is superior to the one it replaced. T h o u g h the idea of scientific progress is presupposed, and indeed sets the problem, it cannot coherently be asserted, for it would require the comparison of successive 'paradigms', which are said to be incommensurate, by comparing them to s o m e meta-para-d igm, which ex hypothesi w e do not and

cannot possess. This is the much-discussed theory propounded by T h o m a s K u h n . 9

6. T h e successive improvement of collectives of propositions with a view to enhancing both external predictions and manipulation and internal coherence and elegance, by m e t h o d s asserted to be continuous with those which governed biological evolution. This is pragmatism, ably represented in our time by W . van O . Q u i n e . 1 0 In his version, it asserted the 'continuity thesis' m o r e coherently than is the case in the w o r k of P o p p e r (where it clashes with the discontinuity between 'open and closed' thought). If a major break in the cognitive history of life occurred at all, in this logical-pragma-tist version, it arose at the point where abstract entities c a m e to be used and in a w a y acquired reality, thus permitting the dramatic growth of mathematics.

This is not the place to debate the merits of these theories. N o doubt there are others. But w e shall need to refer to the themes that occur in them—such as accurate observation, testing, mathematicization, shared conceptual currency, and the abstention from transcendence or circularity.

M y argument has been that b y 'science' is m e a n t a type of cognition which has radically, qualitatively transformed m a n ' s relation to things: nature has ceased to be a d a t u m and b e c o m e eligible for genuine comprehension and manipulation. Science is a distinctive cognitive system with s o m e mysterious built-in m e c h a n i s m ensuring sustained and perpetual growth—which has been profoundly beneficial for h u m a n productive systems, and corrosive for our systems of social legitimation. W e d o not really k n o w h o w this sustained and consensual growth is achieved, but w e d o k n o w that it is achieved, and 'science', is the n a m e for the m a n n e r in which it is d o n e , whatever it m a y be . H e n c e the question concerning whether social studies are or are not to be properly included within the limits of science is by n o m e a n s merely terminological: W e are asking whether the

580 Ernest Gellner

same kind of thing is happening in our understanding and manipulation of society.

But this way of presenting the issue contains one important simplification. It suggests that the evaluative charge contained in the appelation 'science', because of its implied promise of understanding and control, is entirely, wholly and unambiguously positive. This is by no means so. Though there exists one major academic industry of producing books telling social scientists what science really is and h o w they can turn themselves into genuine scientists, there also exists another, with at least as flourishing an output, putatively establishing that the study of m a n and society cannot be scientific, or, alternatively, if the positively loaded term 'scientific' is to be retained, that they are scientific, but in a sense radically different from that which applies in natural science. T h e idea that the methods of natural and social science are basically identical, is nowadays almost a definition of 'positivism', and positivism is a term which in recent years has more often than not been used pejoratively. This is significant: originally, the central theme of positivism was the interdict on transcendence. M o d e r n anti-positivism seeks to escape from the weaknesses that flesh and fact are heir to (notably contingency and corrigibility), no longer to some transcendent realm of pure and certain truths such as were fashionable in agrarian days, but to the social and h u m a n realm; and to do so, it must insist that the h u m a n or cultural is radically distinct from nature. O n e also sometimes has the impression that a 'positivist' is anyone w h o subjects a favoured theory to the indignity of testing by mere fact.

T h e arguments purporting to prove that the study of m a n and society cannot be scientific (variant reading: can only be scientific in a sense radically different from that applicable to the. study of nature) can also be catalogued. Authors upholding this view of course often combine or conflate these various points. N o n e the less, it is useful to list them separately. 1. T h e argument from idiography. H u m a n ,

social or historical phenomena either are inherently individual; or our concern is with their individual and idiosyncratic aspects; or, of course, both.

2. The argument from holism. Society is a unity; the 'principle of internal relations', which insists that everything is what it is in virtue of its relationships to everything else within the same system, applies to it. If the main device of old metaphysics was the reality of abstract objects, then this idea, in various terminologies, is the central device of modern socio-metaphysics. Empirical inquiry, however, can ex hypothesi deal only with isolated facts, and it cannot seize any totality. Hence empirical inquiry essentially distorts and misrepresents social reality. This doctrine can be combined with the view that it is the actual function, conscious or latent, of empirical factual inquiry to hide social reality and distort our perception of it, in the service of the established order, which has cause to fear clear-sighted perception of social reality on the part of the less privileged members of society. This view can also naturally be fused with a special dispensation for the propounder himself and those like-minded, w h o possess some means of privileged cognitive access to the real nature of society, insights that are beyond the reach of mere atomic empirical facts, garnered by the ideological watch-dogs of the established order.11

3. The argument from the complexity of social p h e n o m e n a can be used to reinforce the preceding two arguments.

4. T h e argument from meaning. H u m a n actions and institutions are identified not by some shared physical traits, but in terms of what they m e a n to the participants. This fact (if such it is) can be held, wholly or partly, to entail the exemption of h u m a n or social phenomena either from causation or from external and comparative empirical investigation, or of course from both. T h e argument can be put thus: the nexus that exists between natural phenomena or classes of events is independent of any one


'The Pirandello effect', a w a y of breaking d o w n the neat distinction between actors and spectators of a play. A scene from Pirandello's Six Characters in Search of an Author. A 1936 performance by the Pitoeff C o m p a n y in Paris. Rogcr-vioiict.

society, c o m m o n to t h e m all, and blind to the meanings prevailing in any o n e of t h e m . B u t actions are identified by w h a t they m e a n to the participants, and the meanings that identify t h e m are d r a w n from the, as it w e r e , semantic pool of a given culture, which need not b e , and perhaps never is, identified with the reservoir of meanings used b y another culture. H e n c e there cannot be a valid causal

generalization in which o n e of the links is a class of actions, i.e. events b o u n d together only b y the so-to-speak collectively private meanings that h a p p e n to b e in use in a given culture, for these d o not overlap with any so-to-speak natural kind or category. Nature could not recognize and identify t h e m and thus cannot apply any causal lever to t h e m . A s for the links obtaining be tween t w o or m o r e such socially

582 Ernest Gellner

meaningful categories, they are themselves established in virtue of the semantics of the culture in question, and can only be apprehended by penetrating, learning that system, and not by external investigation. Comparative intersocial research and generalizations are absurd and impossible, in so far as the systems of meanings of diverse cultures are not comparable or overlapping, or only contingently and partially so.12 A historical c o m m e n t one m a y allow oneself on this position is that idealism is alive and well, and operates under the n a m e of hermeneutics. T h e views that had once been articulated with the help of terms such as Geist or spirit n o w see the light of day in terms of 'meaning' or 'culture'.

5. 'The social construction of reality'.13 This argument clearly overlaps with the preceding one; perhaps it is identical with it, differing only in the style of presentation and in its philosophical ancestry. T h e preceding formulation is rooted above all in the work of L . Wittgenstein, whereas this one springs from the ideas of E . H u s serl and A . Schutz.

6. T h e so-called 'individual construction of reality'. This slogan, though not as far as I k n o w actually used by the movement in question, could be used to characterize the approach of a recently fashionable school k n o w n as 'Ethno-methodology' and associated with the n a m e of Garfinkel.14 T h e central doctrine of this m o v e m e n t appears to be that of our ability to describe (make 'accountable') events is something w e individually achieve, and that consequently the only scientific understanding available is the description (?) or highlighting (?) or exemplification of the very acts of individual accountability-creation. T h e m o v e ment is not marked either by lucidity of expression or by willingness to indulge in rational discussion (a reluctance that can in turn be rationalized in terms of its central insight, which would preclude the testing of interpersonal generalization, there not being any such; but which also conveniently places the m o v e m e n t out of reach of

criticism). This movement stands to the 'social construction of reality' as Fichte did to Hegel; the ego rolls its o w n world, instead of the world rolling itself in a kind of collective effort. But the temporal order seems reversed this time round, for Fichte preceded Hegel. This view combines idealism with idiographism.

7. The Pirandello effect. The allusion is to the device most powerfully developed by Luigi Pirandello for breaking d o w n the neat distinction between characters, actors, producers, authors and spectators of a play. His plays, in which characters discuss the further development of the plot with each other and, seemingly, the author or m e m bers of the audience, are of course meant to induce bewilderment in the audience by undermining the comfortable separation of stage and auditorium, by compelling involvement by the spectator. The play, he seems to say, is not a spectacle but a predicament. So in observation of social reality—and this, it is claimed, distinguishes it from nature. O n e charge which has been m a d e against empiricist or scientistic social research (though it has not as yet been m a d e in these words) is that it pretends that a society can be a spectacle, and not a predicament, for the investigator. This pretence, the critics insist, is false. It constitutes deception of others and, if sincere, constitutes self-deception into the bargain. W e m a k e a commitment in our choice of ideas or problems or interpretations, and the choice is not or cannot be impartial or guided by logical criteria alone, or perhaps at all. Thus, the inescapable involvement of the investigator in his subject-matter makes any pretence at 'scientific objectivity' spurious. In actual presentation, this argument is generally fused with several others in the preceding list.

8. Special cognitive status for the inquiry into m a n or society can also be claimed not so m u c h in virtue of general considerations, such as those listed so far, but in virtue of alleged special substantive characteristics of the specific object or style of inquiry.


For instance, in the lively debate concerning the scientific status of psycho-analysis, the claim is sometimes m a d e (in defence of the legitimacy of this technique) that the eccentric methods employed in it (by the standards prevailing in other inquiries) are justified by the very peculiar nature of the object investigated, i.e. the unconscious. Its cunning and deviousness in the face of inquiry, which it tries to evade and deceive, justify cognitive emergency measures, which would be held illicit by the rules of evidence prevailing in the normal courtrooms of science. Faced with so ruthless an e n e m y , the investigating magistrate is granted special powers and dispensed from the normal restrictions on methods of inquisition. T h e unconscious cannot be apprehended in any other way, and the difficulty and urgency of the task justifies extreme methods. (Whether these really serve to outwit the quarry, or merely protect the reputation of the hunter, by ensuring that he is never convicted of fundamental error, is another question.)

There is no space here to attempt any kind of thorough evaluation of all these negative arguments. Suffice it to say that none of them seem to m e remotely cogent. Take for instance the one which m a y seem most powerful, namely the one to the effect that the categories of actions or events in a given culture are defined in terms of the meanings current within that culture, which are so to speak private to that culture, and not coextensive with 'natural kinds'. This, though true as far as it goes, in no w a y precludes even a physical determinism for the events within the culture in question. It merely precludes the identification of the determined events (if such they are) in terms of the meanings current in the culture. T h e determining forces, so to speak, will select the events they bring out in terms of s o m e characteristics that only accidentally and contingently overlap with the meanings that accompany and seem to guide the events. For instance, w h e n w e watch a film, w e k n o w full well that what will happen is already determined; and it is deter

mined by the pattern found on the reels which is being transmitted from the projection room. T h e meaningful connections which interest us and which appear to guide and give sense to the series of events observed in the story on the screen are really quite epiphenomenal and powerless. W e do not actually k n o w that our life is like that, and most of us hope that indeed it is not; but the argument from the meaningfulness of social life, alas, in no way establishes that it cannot be so.

If on the one hand the arguments purporting to establish that h u m a n and social life cannot be subject to scientific explanation are invalid, then, on the other hand, any inspection of the lively and vigorous discussions in the field of the philosophy of science indisputably reveal one thing—that the issue of the nature of science, of the identification of that secret which has m a d e possible the unprecedented, totally unique rate of cognitive growth since the seventeenth century, remains unsolved. W e have some very impressive candidates for the solution, powerfully and elegantly presented. But to have an impressive short list is one thing, and to have a firmly identified, recognized, acclaimed winner is quite another. A n d that w e do not have. T h e situation simply is that science is consensual, and the philosophy of science is not.

T h e two contentions which have been affirmed—the putative demonstrations of the impossibility of science in social spheres are invalid, and the absence of an agreed account of w h y and h o w science works in the fields in which plainly it does work—will be crucial in answering the question to which this essay is devoted, namely whether or not the social ~ sciences are indeed scientific.

Conclusion

The question n o w in effect answers itself— once w e have broken it up into its constituent, normally conflated subquestions or variant interpretations.

W e can first of all check the activités of

584 Ernest Gellner

social sciences for the presence or absence of the various traits that figure prominently in diverse theories of science. Those traits are: T h e presence of Well-articulated hypotheses

and their systematic testing. Precise quantitative measurement, and the

operationalization of concepts. Careful observation by publicly checkable

methods. Sophisticated and rigorous conceptual struc

tures, and great insights. Shared paradigms, at any rate over sizeable

communitites of scholars, and persisting over prolonged periods.

There can be no serious doubt that all these traits, often in combination, can be found in diverse social sciences. M a n for m a n , or community for community, it is doubtful whether social scientists are inferior, in intellectual daring and ingenuity, in formal rigour, in precision of observation, to the practitioners of disciplines whose scientific status is not normally doubted. A s a distinguished philosopher of science, Hilary Putnam, ironically and compassionately observed, 'the poor dears try so m u c h harder'.15 A s indicated, w e do not k n o w the secret of science; w e do not k n o w just which of the m a n y blazing beacons w e are being offered really is the 'sacred fire'. W e do k n o w that m a n y beacons are ablaze, and given the short-list supplied to us by the philosophers of science, w e rather think that one of them (or perhaps a number of them jointly) is it. But which one?

M o r e concretely, w e do k n o w that m a n y of the indisputable characteristics of science are often present in social research. T h e aspects of social life that are inherently quantitative or observable with precision (e.g. in fields such as demography or social geography) are indeed investigated. with precision and sophisticated techniques; w e k n o w on the other hand that sophisticated and elaborate abstract models are developed in various areas and serve as shared paradigms to extensive communities of scholars (e.g. economists); and on the other hand, in spheres where the conceptual apparatus is not so very far removed from the ideas of c o m m o n sense,

w e nevertheless k n o w that a well-trained practitioner of the subject possesses understanding and information simply not available prior to the development of the subject. In all these senses, social studies are indeed scientific. Large areas of them do satisfy one or another of the m a n y available, and convincing, theories of the sacred fire. A n d our collective life would be m u c h poorer without them.

So m u c h for the satisfaction of the hallmarks of science, as they are specified by the philosophy of science. But w e obtain a different picture if w e look at it from the viewpoint, not of methods employed, but of the impact on our cognitive world: if w e ask whether there is a generally overall consensual cognitive activity, radically discontinuous from the insights and techniques of ordinary thought, and unambiguously cumulative at an astonishing and unmistakable rate. The answer is obvious. In this crucial sense, in terms of their impact on our social order, social studies are not scientific—much as they m a y rightly claim to be so by the previous criterion or criteria. They claim to have stolen the sacred fire. Does anyone pay them the compliment of wishing to steal it from them?

W e can try to break up this failure into its constituent parts. T h e quantitatively accurate descriptive techniques are not accompanied by correspondingly convincing theory of similarly accurate prediction. T h e sophisticated abstract models do not firmly mesh in with empirical material. T h e powerful insights are not consensual. Paradigms exist and prevail, but only in subcommunities; and when they succeed each other the situation is quite different from that which prevails in natural science. In natural science, w e are generally sure that there is progress, but have great difficulty in explaining h o w it is possible that w e can k n o w that this is so, given that there is no c o m m o n measure for comparing successive visions. In the social sciences w e are spared this worry. W e need not puzzle about h o w it is that w e can k n o w that w e are progressing, because w e are not so very sure that w e have indeed progressed. The partisans of a new


paradigm m a y , of course, b y sure concerning their o w n particular leap (they usually are); but they are seldom sure about the whole series of leaps that constitute the history of their subject. O n the contrary, their o w n leap is very often a reverse leap, a return to an earlier m o d e l .

If I a m right about the logical inadequacy of the alleged proofs of the ineligibility of the social world for science, w e need not despairingly conclude (or confidently h o p e , as the case m a y be ) that this will always continue to

be so. If indeed the sacred fire of science has not yet been identified, w e d o not k n o w h o w to r e m e d y this situation. T h e question remains o p e n . B u t I suspect w e shall k n o w that the social sciences have b e c o m e scientific, w h e n their practitioners n o longer claim that they have at long last stolen the fire, but w h e n others try to steal it from t h e m ; w h e n the philosophy of social science b e c o m e s a search for an ex-post explanation of a cognitive scientific miracle, rather than for a recipe or promise for bringing it about.

Notes

1. Sir Karl Popper has propounded the much-discussed doctrine of methdological individualism, which requires all explanations in the social sciences to be, ultimately, in terms of the aims and beliefs of individuals, and which precludes the invocation of holistic social entities, other than as a kind of shorthand (see for instance, Karl Popper, The Open Society and Its Enemies, Princeton N . J . , Princeton University Press, 1966). At the same time, Popper has more recently argued in favour of a 'World Three' (see Karl Popper, Objective Knowledge, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1972), a realm of objects of thought, in addition to the relatively well-established Cartesian worlds of external objects and internal experiences. It is interesting that some of the arguments invoked in support of this doctrine—the incorporation in a social tradition and its equipment of a wealth of ideas never accessible to any one man—are precisely those which led some others to be tempted by social holism. Is there m u c h gained by option for

an essentialist rather than holist terminology for indicating the same facts? I suppose it depends on whether all such cultural worlds are simply parts of one and the same third world, or whether they are allowed, each of them, to m a k e its o w n world, which need not be commensurate or compatible with others. In the former case, a Platonic language for describing this would seem more appropriate; in the latter, a sociological-holistic one. It should be added that his individualism does not oblige him to see science as only contingently social; on the contrary, in the appropriate sense, he sees it as essentially social. This is discussed later in this essay.

2. Émile Durkheim, Elementary Forms of Religious Life, tr. Joseph W . Swain, Free Press,

' 1954. T h e main contrast between the two great sociologists, Durkheim and W e b e r , is precisely in their attitude to rational thought:

: Durkheim sees this as a characteristic of any society and

correlative with social life as such, whereas M a x W e b e r is preoccupied with it as a differential trait, present in one tradition far more prominently than in all others. So one sees rationality as ever-present, and its explanation is ipso facto the explanation of society: there w a s indeed a social contract, but it had the form of ritual, not of a compact. The other sees it as present in an uneven m a n n e r , and its explanation coextensive not with society as such, but of the emergence and distinctive nature of one kind of society, namely that which concerns us most, our o w n .

3. T h o m a s K u h n , The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 2nd ed., Chicago, 111., University of Chicago Press, 1970.

4. Ibid., pp. vii-viii.

5. Michael Oakeshott, Rationalism in Politics and Other Essays, London, Methuen & Co., 1962.

6. Paul Feyerabend, Against Method, N . L . B . , 1975.

586 Ernest Gellner

7. Michael Polanyi, Personal Knowledge: Toward a Post Critical Philosophy, Chicago, 111., University of Chicago Press, 1974.

8. Gilbert Ryle, 'Knowing H o w and Knowing That' Presidential Address, Aristotelian Society, Proceedings, Vol. X L V I , 1945/46, pp. 1-16; Lewis Carroll, 'Achilles and the Tortoise' in The Complete Works of Lewis Carroll, N e w York, Random House, 1939.

9. Kuhn, op. cit.

10. Willard van Orman Quine, From a Logical Point of View: Nine Lógico—Philosophical Essays, 2nd. rev. ed., Cambridge, Mass., Harvard University Press, 1961.

11. Theodor Adorno et al., 'Sociology and Empirical Research' in Theodor Adorno et al. (eds.), The Positivist

Dispute in German Sociology, pp. 68-86, London, Heinemann, 1976.

12. A n argument of this kind is found in: Peter Winch, The Idea of a Social Science and its Relation to Philosophy, Humanities Press, 1970. A n even more extreme formulation of this position, combined with an ideographiom à outrance, is found in: A . R . Louch, Explanation and Human Action, Oxford, Blackwell, 1966. This position has been frequently criticized; see, for instance, Robin Horton's 'Professor Winch on Safari' in Archives européennes de sociologie, Vol. XVII , N o . 1, 1976; or Percy Cohen, 'The Very Idea of a Social Science', in I. Lakatos and A . Musgrave (eds.), Problems in the Philosophy of Science, North Holland Press, 1968. Or m y own 'The N e w Idealism', in I. C . Jarvie and J. Agassi (eds.), Cause and Meaning in the Social Sciences:

London, Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1973.

13. Peter L . Berger and Thomas Luckman, The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise on the Sociology of Knowledge, Irvington Press, 1980.

14. See Harold Garfinkel, Studies in Ethnomethodology, Englewood Cliffs, N.J . , Prentice Hall, 1967. For critical comments, see a very witty article by A . R . Louch, 'Against Theorizing', Philosophy of the Social Sciences. Vol. V , 1975, pp. 481-7, or m y own, 'Ethnomethodology: the R e -enchantment, Industry or the Californian W a y of Subjectivity', Spectacles and Predicaments, Cambridge, Univeristy Press, 1979.

15. Bryan Magee (ed.), Men of Ideas, p. 233, Viking Press, 1979.

Philosophical schools and scientific working methods in social science

Stefan Nowak

Philosophical orientations

in empirical social science

T h e title of this article announces an analysis of relations between the 'working methods' of the social sciences on the one hand and 'philosophical schools' on the other. A m o n g the different 'philosophical schools' w e will discuss only those that are (or are believed to be) relevant for the social sciences, and especially for ways of conducting sociological studies. T h e term 'working methods'- denotes for us here: (a) the different ways (standardized patterns) of asking questions about social reality; (b) the different standardized ways of delivering answers to these questions, meaning both the logical structure of propositions which m a y constitute such answers and the ways of substantiation of these propositions—both deductively and inductively; and (c) finally, the different standardized ways of organizing the whole sets of these propositions into m o r e comprehensive and (in different meanings of the term), m o r e coherent descriptive or theoretical pictures of that reality concerning which the initial questions have been addressed.

Stefan N o w a k holds the chair of methodology of sociological investigations at the Institute of Sociology, University of Warsaw. A m o n g his principal publications are: Methodology of Sociological Research (1977) and Sociology: The State of Art (1982, co-editor).

B y philosophical schools, from the point of view of sociology, w e understand here different metasociological orientations. T h e editors of a volume of metasociological studies characterize this term in the following w a y :

'Metasociology', a term popularized by Paul Furley in The Scope and Method of Sociology: A Metasociological Treatise, refers to that branch

of sociology concerned with investigating the assumptions and value judgements underlying the theories and methods e m ployed by sociologists. Such assumptions and value judgements often begin with the assertion that sociology is a science and proceed to incorporate the various theoretical (ontological) and methodological (epistemo-logical) choices m a d e daily. Needless to say, such assumptive choices di

rectly affect the very content of sociology, thereby making metasociology an enormously important and far-reaching area of inquiry.

In m a n y ways, metasociology represents' a mechanism for mapping the discipline of sociology. . . . In doing so, discussions underlying assumptions remain analytically distinct from those of substantive sociology.1

This passage stresses that the analysis of assumptions (at least s o m e of which are

588 Stefan Nowak

ontological) and of value judgements belong to sociology. I agree that it is correct that these assumptions are often used for mapping different 'theoretical approaches' to the study of social phenomena .

But w h e n used for mapping different approaches and theories, they are usually regarded as essential components. T o quote J. H . Turner:

M u c h of what is labelled sociological theory is, in reality, only a loose clustering of implicit assumptions, inadequately defined concepts, and

1 a few vague and logically disconnected propositions. Sometimes assumptions are stated explicitly, and serve to inspire abstract theoretical statements containing well-defined concepts, but most of sociological theory constitutes a verbal 'image of society', rather than a rigorously constructed set of theoretical statements organized into logically coherent format. Thus a great deal of so-called theory is rather a general 'perspective' or 'orientation' for looking at various features of the process of institutionalization which, if all goes well, can be eventually translated into true scientific theory.

The fact that there are m a n y such perspectives in sociology poses problems of exposition; and these problems in turn, are compounded by the fact that the perspectives blend into one another, sometimes redering it difficult to analyze them separately.2

For these reasons, it seems m o r e fruitful not to analyse here all 'theoretical-philosophical approaches' to the study of society, but rather particular assumptions that underlie, or m a y underlie, m o r e than one such school. Fortunately, these assumptions have been the subject of analysis and discussion for m a n y years, both in the philosophy of science and of social science. T h e latter have led to the crystallization of a certain n u m b e r of generally formulated questions, the answers to which m a y be regarded as equivalent to those assumptions mentioned above. A n y fairly c o m prehensive monograph in the philosophy of the social sciences3 usually presents a longer or shorter catalogue of such 'problem dimensions' and defines a certain number of possible positions on each. Let us mention here s o m e of those most frequently discussed.

1. At one extreme of the first problem dimension w e locate those w h o believe that m a n is a thinking and feeling being and whose patterned feelings and ways of thinking about the world, society and himself constitute such essential components of social reality that without proper 'understanding' (Verstehen) of these phenomena in the way Dilthey, W e b e r or Znaniecki wanted us to understand them, any attempt to study social phenomena is fruitless. At the other extreme w e usually locate behaviourists with Skinner in the first place and those theoreticians of early positivist sociology (like D o d d or Lundberg) w h o believed that the study of society and of nature have one most important feature in c o m m o n — b o t h should be based only upon the observation of reality and any other method, like Verstehen, is no more than pre-scientific mysticism.4

2. The second frequent problem dimension deals with the question of whether groups are real, or whether the attribute of real existence should be reserved for h u m a n individuals only. Sometimes this question refers not to groups or other collectivities but to their properties. Here w e observe the clash between holists (sometimes called 'realists') and methodological individualists (or in other discussion contexts— 'nominalists').5

3. The third problem dimension—often discussed jointly with the second—is to what degree the different propositions, and especially various generalizations and laws about h u m a n aggregates and social systems can be explained by the propositions and laws about 'lower level units' and especially by the psychological laws of h u m a n behaviour. Here again the reductionists disagree with the emergentists, i.e. those w h o believe that, at each level of analysis, n e w regularities and properties m a y emerge, basically irreducible to the properties and mechanisms of the lower level.0

4. Then w e have the old dispute between determinists and indeterminists about the applicability of the notion of causality to


the world in general, and to social life in particular. The applicability of causal thinking to social life in particular. T h e applicability of causal thinking to social phenomena can be rejected either in principle ('man has free will') or on more practical grounds—by demonstrating that causality implies a both exceptionless (i.e. general) and spatio-temporally unlimited (i.e. universal) character for the discovered regularities, whereas in the social sciences w e usually discover regularities which are both statistical and 'historical', i.e. limited to some spatio-temporal area. In other words, philosophers of science (and sociologists themselves) differ in their opinion as to the degree to which the model of universal causal theories, so successful in certain natural sciences, is applicable to the world of h u m a n thinking and actions and to the functioning and change of the social systems.7

5. At a slightly lower level of abstraction of philosophical discourse w e find the polarity of two approaches to the study of a multiplicity of people. O n e (called 'pluralistic behaviourism' by D o n Martindale8) assumes more or less consciously that society is something of an aggregate of hum a n individuals, each of w h o m can be explained by their o w n 'background characteristics' taken in isolation from the characteristics and behaviour of other people—as w e do in analysis of survey data. T h e other approach assumes that society or social groups and institutions constitute a system of interdependent elements; the nature of the elements can properly be understood only by taking into account their systemic contexts.9

6. Even w h e n scientists agree that a systemic perspective is essential, some of them are more inclined to believe (following Spencer, Durkheim, Malinowski or Parsons in this belief) that the dominant internal relations are those that guarantee the system its harmonious functioning and homeostatic balance, while others have more sympathy for the idea stressed so

thoroughly by M a r x , Simmel, Coser, Dahr-endorf and contemporary Neo-Marxists, that internal conflict and dysfunction are the essential features of any social system, at both the macro and the micro levels.

7. If w e look at theories that deal with social behaviour and man's ways of thinking and feeling about himself and the external social world, w e m a y also find a number of polarized dimensions along which approaches and theories can be located. For example, w e m a y believe (with Skinner and some radical behaviourists) that h u m a n nature is basically reactive, that people react to external stimuli, and that the patterns of rewards and punishments shaping the learned patterns of behaviour in society m a y be apprehended in a way similar to the study of rats in an experimental maze . But w e can also believe with 'humanistic psychologists', that h u m a n nature has a creative potential and that aiming towards self-realization is more important than reaction to the m a z e of constraints imposed by the social structure, and the need to exchange rewards and punishments with others according to certain rules of distributive justice.

8. Quite another aspect of h u m a n behaviour is usually analysed along the dimension 'rational-irrational'. Here w e m a y believe, following m a n y 'purposeful action theorists' from W e b e r to Parsons and contemporary proponents of the application of normative models of mathematical decision-theory to the explanation of real h u m a n actions, that looking into conscious h u m a n motives of behaviour interpreted in terms of rationally oriented goals—means relations m a y give us the proper insight. But w e m a y also follow the line of Freud and Pareto and assume that what people perceive as the motives of their actions are usually by way of being rationalizations (derivations) from actions not themselves necessarily guided by principles of rationality. A n d even if there is agreement that the knowledge of conscious motives is necessary for the proper explanation of

590 Stefan Nowak

behaviour, there m a y be disagreement about the methodological scheme of such explanations. S o m e insist that w e must apply certain 'covering laws' in the scheme of deductive-nomological explanations, while others stress the non-nomological character of 'understanding explanations'.11

All these assumptions (and m a n y others) deal with the nature of reality as applied to social studies. But w e also find differences of approach to sociology rooted in the differences of opinion about what should be the sociologist's attitude towards his o w n studies, or opinions about h o w these studies can or should be conducted. Here w e c o m e across the old issue of 'objectivity' of social studies with s o m e w h o believe that studies can be value-free while others stress that it is impossible to get rid of one's values; therefore the best thing a social scientist can do is initially to declare his value preferences continuing to express them both in his problem-formulation and in the conduct and findings of his study. All those w h o recall the disputes around this problem in the late 1960s k n o w h o w m a n y different meanings were attached to each. possible attitude along this dimension.12 This applies not only to this particular problem dimension in the philosophy of social sciences but to most of them, because not only can different attitudes be taken along each but also the dimensions themselves can be, and were understood in different ways.

U n d e r such circumstances, any attempt to discuss the relevance of such assumptions to the whole process of development of research methodology would probably require at least a whole volume. Here , w e intend to look only into some m o r e general problems of relations between the assumptions underlying sociological studies and the ways these studies are or should be conducted.

The validity of philosophical

arguments for research

methodology in sociology

W h y should these assumptions play any role

at all? That most philosophers and, more reflective sociologists believe in their importance does not constitute sufficient proof of relevance, especially as there are some w h o are inclined to reject the whole matter c o m pletely. Thus , Barry Hindess says:

I propose no methodology or epistemology to the positions criticized here. O n the contrary, I argue that the problems which these disciplines pose are false problems and they arise only as a function of a conception of knowledge which can be shown to be fundamentally and inescapably incoherent. Epistemology and such derivative doctrines as methodology and philosophy of science have no rational and coherent foundation. In particular there can be no rational or coherent prescriptive methodology.13

Methodology, stresses Hindess, tries to prescribe those procedures supposed to be useful either for generating or for testing n e w propositions, and tries to validate them on the basis of philosophical argument. These procedures define what is, and what is not a science:14

Scientific knowledge is thought to be valid only if it conforms to the prescribed procedures: it follows that the prescriptions of methodology cannot be validated by scientific knowledge. . . . Methodology lays down procedural rules for scientific practice which it derives by means of a 'knowledge' provided by philosophy. Methodology is the product of philosophy and the sciences are a realization of their methodology.14

W e r e this the only possible pattern of relations between science and its methodology on the one hand and metascientific assumptions on the other, I would agree with Hindess that this would constitute either a case of nice tautological circularity or, even worse, a situation in which the whole of scientific thinking constitutes nothing more than carrying out the orders of a dogmatic dictatorship of philosophers. Fortunately, this is not the case, for several reasons.


A n allegory of logic, seventeenth-century etching. Explorer.

592 Stefan Nowak

The empirical, normative and analytical premises of problem formulations and research methods in sciences

Before w e look at these reasons, let us first remind ourselves here of the role of less questionable assumptions in the research process.15 Every empirical study begins (or at least it should begin) with a set of questions, to which it is supposed to deliver the answers.16 A s is well k n o w n , the formulation of each question logically presupposes that certain assumptions about the studied objects or phenomena are accepted as valid. If—as is often the case—these assumptions are not explicitly formulated, it is because they m a y seem so obvious that no one cares to recall them. They would become more obvious if one were to undertake a study of problems based on obviously false assumptions. Should one propose to study the attitudes of the representatives of the Hispanic minority in Poland towards the country's political system, one would be reminded that the question is 'wrong' because it is based upon the obviously false assumption that a Hispanic minority exists. O n the other hand, for the undertaking of a similar study in N e w York , the assumption would be taken for granted. A question is only applicable to the object or objects that satisfy its assumptions. But the assumption does not prescribe any specific answer to the question. O u r assumptions only classify reality into two subsets: one—in which it 'makes sense' to ask questions, and the other one—to which the questions do not apply.

T h e same applies to theoretical questions. If one proposes to study in a n e w experimental project what kind of people are more likely to 'reduce cognitive dissonance' than others, one starts from the (explicit or implicit) assumption that 'cognitive dissonance' exists and that one wants to develop a more detailed theory describing the conditions under which this phenomenon is likely to occur. If a study starts from a set of valid assumptions, it does not matter whether they

have been stated explicitly or only implicitly, but if a study is begun from a wrong set of assumptions, one discovers pretty soon that the questions do not apply to the selected objects and phenomena since one obtains answers that reject the initial assumptions.

The validity of the assumptions implies only that w e m a y ask the questions with respect to a given object or class of objects. Whether w e ask or not depends additionally upon our values. Only they can provide the motivation to undertake a study seeking answers to given problem formulation. Whether w e specify our values (curiosity being definitely one of them) explicitly or take them for granted does not matter.

Similarly for the assumptions underlying the use of a certain research method. T h e formulation and use of m a n y research methods is based upon certain identical or descriptive propositions necessary for their validity. W e m a y recall h o w m u c h theoretical physics and engineering science underlies the availability of such 'research tolls' as the cyclotron, electron microscope, or Wilson chamber for elementary particles. T h e situation in the social sciences is similar. Thousands of studies have proved that 'projection' as described by Freud really exists. Hence w e n o w use 'projective tests' if w e suspect that subjects m a y have difficulties in revealing their needs, motives or aspirations. Again, w e use information about the m a k e of a respondent's car, or visible level of consumption as 'indirect indicators' of income, because the correlation between income and levels of living has been well established.

W h a t these propositions usually imply is that w e are free to use a given method for a given cognitive purpose. Whether w e do use any particular method often depends also upon certain normative premises (value assumptions), e.g. the degree of accuracy yielded by different methods, possible margins of error connected with their use, combined with the costs of applications of each. Sometimes methodological decisions involve strictly ethical premises like those which exclude the application of certain (otherwise


efficient) methods for the study of h u m a n subjects. T h e final methodological design of any study arises from interaction of empirical considerations relating to accuracy, with certain normative, axiological premises.

Another kind of premise—the analytically valid theorems ('laws') of formal logic or mathematics—is used in the process of reasoning, in the transformation of the logical or mathematical implications of one body of information into another in deductions, in deriving fresh propositions from those that have already been tested, etc. Sometimes these laws or theorems of logical thinking are so simple (or w e are so used to applying them) that w e are unaware of using them at all. In other cases they are so complex that w e employ the most powerful computers to follow correctly (and with sufficient speed) the prescribed paths of formal reasoning which have their source in certain tautologies of logic and mathematics.

'Visions' of social reality as sources of philosophical assumptions

W h a t has been said so far proves only that sciences do indeed develop in a cumulative manner, n e w research problems arising from the state of knowledge in different disciplines and n e w methodologies attempting to apply positive knowledge about reality to devise more efficient research tools. It does not prove that philosophy—ontology or epistem-ology—are enlisted for such purposes.

But the body of existing knowledge only delivers the premises for new questions, if these are not dramatically new, or in other words, that the process of development is what K u h n calls 'normal science'. The development of 'normal science' is safe enough, because it occurs within the existing and accepted paradigms; n e w questions m a y therefore be based upon well-tested empirical assumptions. If the questions are so new that the answers- might constitute a 'scientific revolution', then the corresponding assump

tions can usually not be found in the tested body of existing scientific knowledge. O n e must go beyond this knowledge and risk some bold, more or less hypothetical guesses about the nature of reality.

W h e r e do such guesses belong at the m o m e n t w h e n they are formulated, thus opening the w a y to basically n e w scientific questions? O n e might say that they are no more than bold scientific hypotheses at the highest level of generality, from which the formulation of lower-level hypotheses were stimulated. But if w e look closely at the history of science in its relation with the history of philosophy, it seems more reasonable to say that m a n y such assumptions were merely taken from philosophy or could be classified with it. 'Visions' of society as an organism go far back in our history,., but anthropology as a science had to wait for Malinowski and Radcliffe-Brown to use such ideas as starting-points for explanatory principles in empirical studies. There is no doubt that the idea of Verstehen as formulated by Dilthey belonged to philosophy, but all its subsequent uses to explain concrete social phenomena and for the development of corresponding methodologies belong to social sciences. It is extremely difficult to point to the border-line between philosophy and 'positive' empirical theory in Karl Marx's thinking, but there is no doubt that Hegelian dialectics, transformed by M a r x into ' m a terialistic dialectics', played an important role in his empirical thinking about society, guiding it in the formulation of testable hypotheses about the relationships between class structure, class conflict, and other aspects of social phenomena .

W h a t happens when the theory or research generated from such philosophical assumptions actually works? It implies that assumptions can also be regarded as indirectly, and partly, i.e. only inductively, confirmed by the empirical findings, thus confirming the theory. T h e validity of initial philosophical assumptions is then proven at least for those areas of reality where a theory works. But this applies only to such philosophical prop-

594 Siefan Nowak

ositions as are logically directly or indirectly related to the questions of the theory or the conceptual scheme of reality.

In principle one could try to formulate these philosophical assumptions, hypothetical as they are, by the rule of maximal parsimony, i.e. postulating only what is absolutely necessary for the n e w questions, e.g. postulating the existence—or possibility of existence—of certain n e w entities, the possibility that they might be interrelated in a given way , that they might change or that they might be stable—and nothing m o r e . If research produces sensible answers, it would m e a n additionally that indirectly and partially it confirms (or at least does not falsify) the e m pirical validity of those assumptions on which the questions were based.

But as w e k n o w , parsimony is not the most typical way the h u m a n mind likes to work at the pre-theoretical and equally most creative stage of scientific thinking. Nor does it like to limit itself to strictly verbal formulations of such assumptions or to strictly logical procedures in their formulation. In thinking about the possible existence of basically n e w phenomena or relationships, w e often use imagination and our tendency to visualize things m u c h more than our logical, verbal thinking. A neuro-physiologist would say that the creative but pre-theoretical stage of a basically n e w scientific study engages m u c h m o r e of the right (imaginative and spatial) hemisphere of the brain than of the left one, believed to be responsible for logic and verbalization. That is w h y n e w theories and areas of study are so often manifested in 'images' and 'visions' and w h y so m a n y spatial metaphors occur in such visions. These metaphors usually pass into theoretical language: groups occupy 'higher' or 'lower' positions in the social structure even though it is k n o w n that they do not actually differ in spatial location; systems are visualized as structures composed of boxes with arrows between them, even w h e n their elements are abstract properties of these systems and the interrelations between them are in no way similar to wires in a television set.

Even w h e n vaguely formulated, and when they are closer to pictures than to propositional hypotheses, these visions often stimulate s o m e kind of strictly scientific activity, by suggesting both the questions and hypotheses. They m a y determine an approach to studied reality, understood narrowly as a set of research questions; consequently such visions or vague notions m a y eventually lead to propositional theories.

Visions of this sort are usually 'structural', including certain components of the visualized wholes. These components m a y later be denoted by the concepts of the n e w approach (if they have been properly conceptualized) or at least by a certain theoretical terminology, the meaning of which is m a d e more or less clear. These concepts constitute the verbalizations of the structure of such aspects of social reality as are in the focus of interest of the approach; they constitute a classificatory pattern or frame of reference in which phenomena are located and from which they derive their more or less theoretical meanings.

Both the 'visions' and their ultimate verbalizations m a y also embrace, explicitly or implicitly, relationships between phenomena, thus transforming them into interconnected structures. These seem to be the actual proposition—like elements of the approaches, but can seldom be classified as general propositions. Even if they sound general it is because their generality has been overstated. In reality they usually are so-called 'elliptical propositions', which, for testability require additional qualifiers, stating to what degree, where and under what conditions they are true. Usually the appropriate formulation for these propositions—like elements—should be: 'x is sometimes related to v' or 'x m a y be related to y', etc.

But these propositions assuming the existence, or even the possibility of existence of certain p h e n o m e n a and possible relations, m a y play the role of assumptions which permit us to formulate research questions, which determined the study of phenomena from that particular angle, and hypotheses


'Ontological Models': a philosopher inscribing a m a n and a w o m a n in geometrical figures, seventeenth-century. Snark/B.N.

which are then empirically testable (to the degree that w e can test any general proposition at all).

If the 'images' of the p h e n o m e n a involved in a given approach are detailed enough it m a y happen that, from a strictly logical point of view, only certain of their elements are needed as assumptions of those n e w questions leading to research on hypotheses, while others m a y not be necessary. Yet, while unnecessary for direct stimulation of science they m a y be needed for other elements which are direct assumptions of our questions or at least they m a y be psychologi

cally necessary as elements of a n e w Gestalt which allows the familiar to be viewed in a basically n e w w a y , as philosophy often does.

For at least twenty-five centuries of E u ropean intellectual tradition (and probably longer in certain other areas) philosophy played a reconnaissance role, trying to say something about the nature, origin, functioning and development of the world or of such of its components as caught the philosophers' attention even w h e n science had little to say about them. T h o u g h usually rather speculative, imprecise, and sometimes almost n e b u lous, the products of philosophic thinking

596 Stefan Nowak

nevertheless yielded a certain knowledge (true or not) thus satisfying curiosity, and also played an essential role in stimulating scientific research and theories. S o m e philosophic guesses were verified as scientific theories, but others obviously proved false on the basis of the research they stimulated. The history of science within the last twenty-five centuries give ample illustration of such a process; almost all scientific disciplines evolved from philosophical speculation (the rest evolved from practical skills) proving it to be at least partly right.

The same also holds true for social philosophy and the social science evolving from it. T o say that the visions of social reality postulated by various approaches, or at least s o m e of their m o r e speculative elements, belong to the area of philosophy, does not say enough about them. T h e tradition of philosophical thought usually distinguished between several branches: gnoseology, ontology and axiology. T h e 'visions' under discussion include in a more or less disguised form all these three branches. First they often say something about the process of cognition of the social world, hence encompassing strictly gnoseological assumptions usually matching the approach adopted with its specific methodology. Second, the images of phenomena, which include or imply as well the concepts of this approach and guide—at least conceptually—the formulation of research problems and more or less general hypotheses often belong to the ontology of the social world. Finally, these approaches either explicitly or implicitly involve certain normative, axiologi-cal assumptions which lend the various elements or aspects of the 'visions' their positive or negative values.

Philosophical assumptions of scientific research methodology

Empirical and ontological assumptions also have their importance for research methodology. First, w e m a y say that to the degree to which the methods of study include the

formulation of the research problem, or are determined in their choice or in their character by it, the implications of these assumptions reach d o w n to the research methodology.

'Research method' is often understood to imply or involve questions of a special kind, including special concepts for the formulation of these questions. Robert Merton's analysis of 'manifest and latent functions' is, no doubt, a contribution to 'functionalist methodology'. W h a t it yields us—along with the result of certain reflections on the nature of social reality—are certain concepts, by using which special kinds of functionalist questions can be asked. These will lead to the formulation of functionalist explanations or theories regarding certain specific social phenomena. Marxist methodology consists primarily in asking M a r xist questions along with the use of special concepts, because a Marxist vision of social reality in which these questions and concepts are rooted is adopted. Neither approach tell us m u c h about h o w concepts and the corresponding questions are transformed into a concrete research design, or what data or. research tools are used for testing hypotheses and propositions. O n the other hand the methodology of survey research, which constitutes a detailed study design involving all the techniques of data collection and analysis, seems to be based on the assumptions that what is being dealt with is a rather loose aggregate of persons whose thinking and behaviour depend primarily upon their individual characteristics. This corresponds to the philosophy of pluralistic behaviourism rather than to any coherent system in which behaviour is primarily governed by interconnection between people, both actions and reactions being shaped by the network of systemic constraints, which might, of course, m a k e quite a difference to research methodology.

W h a t about the method of gathering data or of testing hypotheses themselves? Certain underlying assumptions about the nature of studied phenomena seem to underlie most of them. B y adopting any method of indirect assessment of what is in people's minds (whether by survey questionnaire or clinical


interview, a projective test for assessing anxiety or an intelligence test for the assessment of verbal skills), w e are assuming (with Dilthey) that people do think—or at least that they m a y think) and that one m a y obtain indirect but s o m e h o w valid access to the contents of their minds. Yet in order to use any of the methods mentioned above, it is not enough to assume that 'people m a y be understood'. W e must m a k e m a n y additional assumptions about the condition under which understanding takes place, the possibility of linguistic or. other kinds of communication between the researcher and his subjects in given conditions, circumstances under which people feel free to reveal what they really think, etc. Most of these assumptions are empirically verifiable, but they m a y all be m a d e only on the validity of the most general assumptions about the possibility and necessity of understanding what is going on in other people's minds. T h e same applies to m a n y other situations in which the philosophical conditions constituting the most general frame òf interpretative reference are interwomen with empirically controllable (and controlled) statements about the studied fragment of the world. In adopting any method to assess causal connections between variables, whether it be an experiment in cross-cultural comparison, 'path analysis' of biographical data or traditional multivariate analysis, w e assume (more often implicitly than explicitly) that the phenomena (or at least some of them) m a y be causally interconnected. Without such an assumption, no attempt to discover causal connections would m a k e any sense.

In addition, however, a lot more is k n o w n about situations. It is k n o w n , for instance, whether the variables are quantitative or qualitative, whether one can postulate one-way causation or causal feedbacks with mutual interdependences; whether it is reasonable to believe that external, uncontrolled variables ('errors') are mutually dependent or one should rather postulate their mutual statistical dependencies; whether one is able to select experimental and 'control'

groups at random, or must take them in their natural clusters or series. All this (which can, of course, be empirically tested or manipulated) has essential implications both for the choice of method of causal analysis and for the conclusion concerning the causal connections between the studied phenomena. It implies the use of empirical knowledge in the context of a broader philosophical doctrine of social causality.

Let us look a little more closely at the relations between the assumptions on the one hand and the research methods on the other. Assuming that w e seek results sufficiently close (=) to the characteristics or relationships in the real world, w e m a y designate the results of study by R s , the nature of things in the real world being represented by R w . W h a t w e seek is a method which will result in Rs=* R w . T h e method applied is then designated by M, the assumptions on the basis of which method M is supposed to yield results sufficiently close to the characteristics of the real world being designated by A M . Schematically the relationships in this area can then be set out thus:

(AM • M) -> (Rs = R w ) .

M o r e simply, if the assumptions • are correct, the method will lead to correct results. In some cases w e k n o w that the assumptions of our method are correct because they have already been tested in research or belong to c o m m o n knowledge. S o m e examples of this kind were given earlier.

O n the other hand, m a n y methods are not based upon assumptions that are or can be proved to be completely valid. There is no way to verify finally whether people really do think. But were w e to reject this assumption, w e would have to invent another and probably extremely complex philosophy of the social world to account for what can be explained by means of the assumption of the 'Dilthean model of minds'.

Nevertheless basic re-interpretations of collected data and accepted generalizations do sometimes occur, constituting a basic change of 'paradigm' or 'scientific revolution'. Basi-

598 Stefan Nowak

cally n e w assumptions are then m a d e , which m a y compel a change in the meaning of all previous findings and the indicative validity of m a n y research tools and techniques. Fortunately scientific revolutions do not occur often. A s long as the old paradigm obtains the formal process, by which m a n y elements of what was originally tentative and hypothetical, more philosophical than theoretical, but is slowly transformed into positive science unfolds. This applies both to the assumptions on which the questions of the accepted paradigm are based, and to the hypothetical guesses which underlie the construction of research tools and validation of scientific methods. In this w a y some elements of visions or ontological models of reality are transformed into scientifically tested propositions, others are rejected by research, while a third category remains in the realm of philosophy.

W e can distinguish two kinds of 'ontological model' of aspects or components of studied reality. T h e first consists of reality, e.g. the postulation of existence of social classes, h u m a n minds. Most approaches to the background of m a n y theories belong in this category of substantive ontological models, their concepts denoting m o r e or less clearly defined, specific h u m a n and social p h e n o m ena, even if these are very general.

Another kind of ontological model is strictly formal or content-free. T h e concepts denote no particular substantive phenomena , because they denote any phenomena in any science which satisfies their formal assumptions. They are formulated by the use of formal, logical tools alone. T h e typology of elaborations of statistical relations proposed by Lazarsfeld, for example, constitutes only a strictly formal model of a multivariate causal process that could be valid for any cluster of variables attaching to a loose collection of elements, being either cumulative or interactive, either parallel or ordered in a causal chain, etc. T h e reduction of one relationship or theory to another m a y work in any science, but before proof of its applicability to a particular field is established, it is but a content-free, abstract ontological model of any

imaginable reality which conforms to it. Certain m o r e abstract formulations of 'func-tionalism' (for example, those of Ernest Nagel) are typical examples of a formal approach, as are certain analyses of the dynamics of given processes.

S o m e specialized sciences construct what I call ontological models of possible phenomena, for example, by cybernetics and general systems theory to the degree that they are strictly formal, i.e. free from any reference to substantive empirical science. In other cases it m a y be suspected that content-involvement of authors of a certain type of mathematical model of social phenomena or a cybernetic system is a pretext which permits them to lay claim to empirical work w h e n , in fact, they are m u c h m o r e interested in the construction of logically or mathematically possible worlds.

The distinction I have proposed above is rather analytical, because in the real approaches to social phenomena the substantive and the formal 'structural' assumptions usually occur together, being mutually interconnected. Even the simplest 'visions' assume that the variables postulated by a causal model constitute a loose cluster of causes or effects of the variable.

The need for 'middle-range ontologies'

The assumptions discussed—both the empirical and the philosophical ones—must be valid at least for the studied area of reality. Can w e say that they deserve to be called philosophical assumptions? It is usually assumed that philosophy and especially ontology deal with the most general characteristics of the world. A s Barry Hindess observes, quoting Winch:

The difference between the respective aims of the scientists and philosopher might be expressed as follows: Whereas the scientist investigates the nature, causes and effects of particular real things and processes, the philosopher is concerned with the nature of reality as such in general.17

Philosophical, schools and scientific working methods in social science 599

This puts the philosophers' claim to universal validity of their views rather well. 'Ontology' conveys the notion of a set of concepts in a way all-inclusive, embracing the totality of social reality, and with an extremely broad area of applicability. But if w e remember that these ontological models are mere supplements to necessarily partial knowledge, that they are added by insight and imagination to what is k n o w n about various aspects or fragments of reality, or that they stimulate these fragmentary pictures of scientific knowledge, then w e understand that ontological models are not all-inclusive. They are merely a partial picture of social reality from one particular perspective.

W h a t certain contemporary philosophical perspectives in sociology have in c o m m o n with traditional philosophies—or at least did have until recently—is their claim to ultimate and universal validity, and to total truth, at least as some of their proponents are inclined to believe. Thus, psychoanalysis is all of psychology for those w h o believe that Freud said everything essential about the h u m a n mind. A n y attempt even to supplement Freud therefore constitutes a danger of revisionism. For believers in ethnomethodology, the multivariate analysis of standardized questionnaire responses is a pseudo-science, and vice versa.

O n the other hand, ontological models visualizing societies as torn by internal conflicts are as partial as those that focus primarily on their integrative forces. If by analogy Merton's well-known 'theories of the middle range' were to be extended, the notion of 'middle-range ontologies', i.e. partially perspective, mutually complementary philosophical models of social phenomena could be entertained.

Fortunately some such 'ontological' approaches to the social world are consciously partial and consequently usually called 'models'. A n author w h o presents a 'model' as a starting-point for empirical research m a y begin with certain commonsense assumptions about the existence of objects or their characteristics or m a y include assumptions based upon earlier research. Then he usually pro

ceeds to a conceptual restructurization, defining certain n e w concepts, usually enumerating apparently relevant variables and denoting them by certain 'boxes'. Finally, he draws arrows between these bases and leaves it open which values obtain for particular variables, or whether and h o w strongly they are interrelated in each particular case. Thus the approach, the 'model', defines the research strategy. A scientist would not be unhappy if research were to reveal certain generalizable constant relationships between the variables: this would imply a nice propositional theory. But, surely he would not advance the claim that his model constitutes a universal approach to explain everything, from the class struggle to the formation of unconscious defence mechanisms. T h e partial nature of every ontological model is obvious.

That m u c h should be equally obvious for most other ontological assumptions about problems and research methodologies in science in general, and social sciences in particular. There are societies for which it makes more sense to assume that conflict is the basic feature of relations between various groups and others in which the idea of harmony gives a better fit and m a y lead to the formulation of more fruitful research hypotheses. There are patterns of behaviour about which it makes sense to assume that they have been conditioned by external rewards and punishments and others that have arisen as a result of intense moral or social reflection in the course of a prolonged decision-making process. There are situations in which w e work better on the assumption of dealing with an aggregate of people and others w h e n w e learn more by assuming that w e deal with a coherent social system.

T h e same is true for most general assumptions. T h e choice between reductionism and holism m a y finally turn out to be a spurious one: in some areas of reality w e m a y find interconnection between laws or theories at different levels, while certain theories remain without reductive interrelation, even if this goes against the grain. Such is the situation in contemporary science, there being

600 Stefan Nowak

both plenty of reductionist connections as well as reductionist gaps. T h e same m a y turn out to be true for the assumption of causality. O n e has been accustomed to explanations in causal terms in complex situations; but one is not able to explain everything in that manner. E v e n in physics two basic theories exist: strictly deterministic relativity geometry and basically interdeterminate quantum theory.

Almost all other lower-level philosophical alternatives listed at the beginning of this article are definitely spurious as disjunctive alternatives. A s already pointed out, they are complementary in the sense that different fragments of social reality m a y satisfy the assumptions of different philosophical (onto-logical) schools. But their complementarity m a y go even further. If two polarities of a given problem dimension are not defined so that one of them constitutes a simple logical negation of the other (or in other words, w h e n their joint existence in one particular fragment of reality is logically impossible), cases m a y well exist for which the postulation of joint validity of assumptions believed to be mutually exclusive is justified, and theoretically fruitful. O n e m a y assume, for instance, that the h u m a n thought processes can be understood as partly rational and partly irrational—according to various meanings of these terms—thereby attempting to explain group beliefs and ideologies. O n e m a y also sometimes have to assume that in a certain society both the cohesive forces and the con

flicting ones operate strongly while in another neither conflict nor cohesion seem to be at work because the different groups and individuals m o r e closely resemble a loose aggregate than a system marked by powerful internal feedbacks both positive and negative.

That, in the tradition of the philosophy of science (or in substantive, methodological or philosophical disputes in sociology), two 'opposite' assumptions are believed to be m u tually exclusive, thus requiring a 'philosophical option' in favour of one or the other, does not m e a n that they are empirically contradictory—as long as they are not logically contradictory. It is only as a result of empirical knowledge or of more or less intuitive philosophical (ontological) guesses, that one can decide whether, for each particular case regarded separately, or for a whole generally defined class of cases, both (or none) of the 'opposite' ontological positions can be the source of valid and fruitful assumptions for the formulation of more precise research problems and a m o r e complex research design. A n d it is for consecutive empirical studies, aiming towards the verification of hypotheses or towards answering of initial questions, to show to what degree one or m o r e 'ontological options' believed by some to be mutually exclusive turn out to be valid either for the actual cases studied or for the broader areas of reality around us.


1. W . E . Snizek, E . R . Fuheman and M . K . Miller, Contemporary Issues in Theory and Research—A Metasociological Perspective, p. vii, Westport, Conn . , Greenwood Press, 1979.

2. J. H . Turner, The Structure of Sociological Theory, p. 9, H o m e w o o d , 111., The Dorsey Press, 1979.

3. See, for example, M . B . I Brodbeck (ed.), Readings in the ' Philosophy of the Social Sciences, N e w York, 1968; S. N o w a k , Understanding and Prediction—Essays in the Methodology of Social and Beavioural Theories, Dordrecht, Netherlands, D . Reidel Publ. C o . , 1976; Snizek et al., op. cit.; P. Sztompka, Sociological Dilemmas—Toward a Dialectical Paradigm, N e w York, Academic Press, 1979; D . E m m e t and A . Maclntyre (eds), Sociological Theory and Philosophical Analysis, N e w York, Macmillan, 1970.

4. For a detailed discussion of this problem see 'Concepts ' and Indicators in Humanistic Sociology', in Nowak,op . cit.

5. For an excellent discussion of this problem, see M . Brodbeck, 'Methodological Individualism, Definition and Reduction', in Brodbeck, op. cit. See also J. Coleman, 'Properties of Collectivities', in J. Coleman, A . Etzioni, and J. Poster

(eds.), Macrosociology, Research and Theory, Boston, Mass., 1970. See also R . C . Bealer, 'Ontology in American Sociology'.

6. See E . Nagel, 'Reduction of Theories', The Structure of Science, N e w York, 1961. See also 'The Logic of Reductive Systematizations of Social and Behavioural Theories', in N o w a k , op. cit.

7. See 'Comparative Social Research and the Methodological Problems of Sociological Induction'; and 'Causal Interpretation of Statistical Relationships in Social Research', in N o w a k , op. cit.

8. See D o n Martindale, The Nature and Types of Sociological Theory, Boston, Mass. , 1960.

9. See P. Sztompka, System and Function, Toward a Theory of Society, N e w York, Academic Press, 1970; see also J. W . Sutherland, A General System Philosophy for the Social and Behavioural Sciences, N e w York, 1973.

10. See analysis of this problem . in G . C . Hempel , 'Explanation by Reasons', Aspects of Scientific Explanations, N e w York, 1965.

11. P . Sztompka discusses the following list of what he called 'methodological dilemmas' in his book: '1. Naturalism versus anti-naturalism;

2. Reductionism versus anti-reductionism ; 3. Cognitivism versus activism; 4. Neutralism versus axiologism; 5. Passivism versus autonomism; 6. Collectivism versus individualism.' (P. Sztompka, Methodological Dilemmas, p. 28).

12. See 'Empirical Knowledge and Social Values in the Cumulative Development of Sociology', in N o w a k , op. cit.

13. Barry Hindess, Philosophy and Methodology in the Social Sciences, p. 2, Brighton, The Harvester Press, 1977.

14. Ibid., p. 4.

15. See another formulation of the following views in: 5. N o w a k , 'Approaches, Theories and Sociological Subdisciplines', in: T . Bottomore, S. N o w a k and M . Sokolowska (eds.), Sociology, the State of Art, N e w York. Sage Publications, 1984. For an analysis of the nature of assumptions in induction, see 'Logical and Empirical Assumptions of Validity of Induction', in N o w a k , op. cit.

16. In social sciences, of course, the research problem is often finally formulated after the data have been collected and analysed but it should be then rather called the 'problem of the research report' and not of the study.

17. Hindess, op. cit., p. 3.

WSã^M^MíJMW^MM i) Value as a factor in social action

Emérita S. Quito

T h e question of value is so complex and yet so c o m m o n that it is discussed in almost all fields of h u m a n knowledge. T h e list of books and articles on value never seems to end. Ethics no longer holds exclusive rights- over it for the social as well as the physical sciences openly discuss it: whether the social sciences can be value-free1 or whether the physical sciences are exempt from the scientists' value-judgements in choosing their facts and data.2

Value is ever-present in all conscious and deliberate h u m a n acts and yet this presence is elusive, difficult to enclose in a definition; it is still m o r e difficult to determine its etiology and development. O n e has but to look at the spectrum of definitions formulated by a host of philosophers and social scientists to emphasize this point.3

Its very complexity, however, stems from the fact that, if it is ever-present in all conscious and deliberate h u m a n acts, it should be taken for granted; and if the sciences are not exempt from value-judgements, then value must at least be a scientific datum, and hence accessible to scientific analysis. It is, of course, impossible to take value for granted owing to its determining role in h u m a n behaviour and its far-reaching effect in social action; yet the indefinability of value

Emérita S. Quito is Chairman of the Department of Philosophy of D e La Salle University, Manila, and the holder of the Professorial Chair of Humanities. A m o n g her principal publications are: A New Concept of Philosophy, (1967), Oriental Roots of Occidental Philosophy (1975) and Homage to Jean-Paul Sartre (1981).

renders it impervious to scientific scrutiny. T h e long discussion on the question of

value is not to be repeated here. O u r field of inquiry is philosophical, and because it will seek to determine the origin, levels and extent of value in social action, it will also be sociological.

F r o m the outset, the following principles are to be laid d o w n : (a) that the values of individuals are retained in the values of the

society to which they belong; (b) that secondary values cannot be separated from h u m a n freed o m ; and (c) that secondary values are constantly being modified, if not drastically changed, throughout h u m a n life.

T h e central question is whether value concerns the ethical or 'what ought to be' or whether it is simply a 'calculus of pleasure'.4 There is no doubt that both these

views are correct for both conform to our experience. W h a t has not been so widely discussed is that there are two levels of h u m a n values.

A theory of values

H u m a n beings have a deep sense of values about good and evil or about 'what ought to be' which begins to be formed at the very

604 Emérita S. Quilo

inception of consciousness and continues to take firmer shape during formative years. This level of values is referred to by moralists as man's second nature, a system of right and wrong deeply ingrained until the age of 12 s

after which no moral agency can supplant or re-create it. This level constitutes the h u m a n ethical system of primary values, a Freudian super-ego which oversees actions. The individual is very rarely conscious of this deeply embedded ethical system, and even if he were, would perhaps not be able to understand h o w the system was formed in the first place, considering that it took place in early childhood of which he has no m e m o r y .

There is also another and more superficial level of secondary values of which people are conscious because it is of a later formation. At this level, the choice between good and evil, right and wrong, black and white is no longer m a d e since such choices were already m a d e at the deeper level. At this m o r e superficial level, h u m a n beings operate in a grey area, a spectrum of better or worse, of pleasure or pain, of convenient or inconvenient, of n o w or later, of here or there, in short, a scale of relative values, not of absolute ones.

This secondary level of values is the immediate basis of our choices being, in turn, rooted in the primary or deeper level of which w e are no longer even conscious. The superficial level of values is not permanent; it is consciously modified throughout life as one acquires fresh knowledge or experience. N o amount of fresh knowledge or experience, however, can shake the primary- or deeper foundation of values; no modification is possible of this solid basis which firmed up in early childhood. While the deeper level is the bedrock of 'what ought to be', it is at the secondary level that deliberate choices are m a d e in later life. N o freedom in the formation of the level of primary values exists since it is received from parents, teachers or surrogate parents, and thus belongs to the past that can no longer be recalled or recast. In a sense, this deeper sense of values belongs to the unconscious.

Value plays an active role in purposive h u m a n behaviour. Every goal set, every motivation responded to, involves a value. For this reason, the social sciences cannot be value-free any more than physics can be energy-free, or mathematics, quantity-free. It is also w h y physical sciences cannot be exempted from value-judgements, because the scientist unwittingly bases his choice of data on a system of values which determines their degree of importance. Gunnar Myrdal maintains that the biases or inclinations of scientists are so deep-seated that they can insinuate themselves into the fields of research at all stages.6 Thus a system of values accompanies all deliberate h u m a n actions.

H o w does an individual initially form his primary sense of values? T h e origin is to be sought in early childhood. W h e n children are rewarded or punished before the age of 12, a sense of values is unconsciously formed. Spankings and lollipops are determinants of primary values. Until the age of 12 when real freedom is not yet exercised, the child forms its primary sense of values, i.e. of right and wrong, of good and evil. This becomes a part of its second nature for the child imbibes it as naturally as mother's milk. In later life, this sense of values m a y lie buried under thick layers of experience, but exists none the less at a deeper level of consciousness. '

In succeeding years, the individual consciously or unconsciously forms a hierarchy of values but always within the framework of the primary scale, i.e. between the extremes of right and wrong. The individual erects a scale of pleasures, conveniences, of more or less, of better or worse. This secondary scale of values is modifiable throughout life, and in-, deed it is modified, and sometimes drastically changed. Only in old age does this secondary scale of values become set, when at last the primary and secondary scales coincide.

W h e n the individual transfers from the family fold into a wider society, the secondary scale undergoes rigorous re-evaluation. Censure, ridicule,-praise can modify these values; education can alter them to a great extent. W h e n one acquires fresh knowledge, this


Relativity, etching by Escher. Snark.

acquisition impinges itself on the secondary scale of values. N e w insights, theories, perspectives, n e w or alternative forms of behaviour rectify or recast one's scale of-values. Mass media can also manipulate it. If television affords every opportunity to win an electronic gadget by simply phoning in the right answer to a simple question; if newspapers offer extravagant prizes for easy-to-fill obligations, h o w can one's scale of values remain unaffected? If the rewards of work are attainable by other means , can the work ethic

continue to c o m m a n d a high priority in one's scale of values? In fact, every factor or event, be it economic, social or political, impinges upon the scale of secondary values.

Does the individual retain his scale of values w h e n he joins the wider society or group? 'The institution is but the lengthened shadow of one m a n . ' 7 '. . . individual praxis is the synthetic mould from which must flow c o m m o n action'.8

Contrary to popular belief, an individual never really surrenders his values w h e n he

606 Emérita S. Quito

becomes a m e m b e r of an institution, party, social group, etc. Group or collective action is a juxtaposition of individual actions. Only in a m o b where the individual subsumes his personality to the group does he really lose his individuality and, with it, his individual values.

A n individual can belong to three kinds of groups, and in each, retains his values to a varying degree. T h e cohesiveness of groups depends largely on the objectives of those w h o comprise them. 1. There are groups that c o m e together be

cause of an identity of purpose, such as a group of people w h o wait for transportation or w h o form a queue to enter a cinema. O n c e the single purposes are achieved, the group disperses. It is evident that here the total scale of secondary values is retained.

2. There are also groups whose objective m a y be m o r e difficult to attain, as in the case of revolutionary groups which aim to topple a political regime. T h e coming together of this group is spontaneous because it e m a nates from a deep-seated purpose which has become habitual and which for the same reason is less conscious than in the first group. Those forming such a group are desirous of a single, collective aim which can be achieved only through collective action, but this collectivity does not rescind individual values.

3. There are groups that congregate for mutual benefit or concern: institutions, social clubs, political parties, unions or syndicates belong to this kind. There is no urgency in the objectives of such groups. M e m b e r s coalesce because of social concern, which at bottom is really self-interest or utility. This is the very basis of institutions, collectivities the objective of which is an abiding one. Institutions are not questioned as to their social utility because no society can really exist without the stability afforded by them. The state, for example, can be called an institution because citizens view membership in it as desirable for protection and benefit. T h e

individual retains his full scale of values in the institution.

Are there, then, values that can m o v e society as a whole? ,As a general rule, people w h o share a culture, mores or mentality share the same values. Every type of society has a c o m m o n scale of values and hence a c o m m o n code of conduct. Honour for the Japanese is a socially accepted value that can m o v e them to voluntary self-destruction. The defence of democracy and justice can m o v e the A m e r ican and British people into war. Trampling of Christian values can m o v e Christians into collective action. Redress of grievances, oppression, rampant injustice are some of the more urgent and dramatic motives for social action. Inequality of the sexes in terms of job opportunities and compensation inspired the W o m e n ' s Liberation M o v e m e n t to seek to correct these anomalies.

A s a general rule, the people of the East (by this is meant all Asians) differ from the people of the West (i.e. Europeans, North and South Americans) because of socially accepted Eastern and Western values.

The Easterner, or Oriental, is person-oriented, whereas the Westerner is thing-oriented and from these value-orientations flow their value-judgements and conscious actions.

The thing-oriented Westerner values efficiency and productivity. For every effort expended he must accomplish m a x i m u m results. Hence , time is precious for the Westerner. Every 'unforgiving minute' must be filled with sixty seconds' worth of exertion. There is a standard of excellence that must be lived up to: failure to conform to this standard is a fault for which one can be censured.

Self-reliance is another Western value. Self-help is the true ideal. Parasitism on the family is frowned upon. A s a result, young people leave the family fold as soon as they can survive on their o w n and, conversely, when parents grow old, they are sent to homes for the aged. The cycle is repeated when these children become parents themselves. D u e to the emphasis on efficiency and the apparent inability of certain Westerners


The scale of faculties and their transcendance, from Robert Fludd, Utriusque Cosmi Historia (1619). Explorer.

to cope with these socially accepted values, m a n y suicides are committed.

T h e Oriental, o n the other hand , is person-oriented. His regard for h u m a n feelings is supreme. All other values are subordinate to- this supreme value. T i m e or the emphasis on punctuality is not a rule. T h e shoe-maker or tailor m a y have promised to finish a job on a specific day and time, but he

can easily beg off by saying that he w a s slightly indisposed and therefore could not fulfil his contract. This is n o major calamity in Oriental culture: one does not fly off in a rage because one's shoes or shirt were not finished at the appointed time. Forbearance is an Oriental trait.

Another value that flows from personal or h u m a n feelings is 'saving face'. In the East


K'ung Fu-tZU (Confucius), 551-479 B.C. Edimedia.

one does not trap a person between the two horns of a dilemma. O n e always leaves an opening for the other person to exit gracefully. Even when a person falls short of a standard of excellence, he is handled with velvet gloves. O p e n embarrassments are avoided in the East.

T h e Oriental is group- or family-oriented. Smooth personal relationships are of enorm o u s value. Giving in to the majority's will without question is part of the Eastern sense of values. Wranglings or bickerings destroy harmonious h u m a n relationships and have therefore no place in the Eastern code of conduct. In this connection, the family is supreme, and parents are honoured and venerated. A s a result of this close contact with the family, the Oriental, as a general rule, does not develop singly or in isolation from the family and often becomes too dependent on it. Even w h e n a son or daughter can afford it, they stay within the family fold until and even after marriage, continuing to consult their parents on important decisions.

A n Easterner does not stand alone. H e rises or falls with his family.

D o these Eastern, or Oriental, and Western, or Occidental, values belong to the primary sense of values or to the secondary scale of values? O n e sure way of finding out is to determine whether a person acts unconsciously (instinctively) or consciously (freely). The primary sense of values belongs to the unconscious because it was formed when the child exercised neither freedom nor epistemo-logical awareness. W h e n a person acts almost instinctively, i.e. without ratiocination, the act emanates from the primary level of values, hence from a 'sense of values', or the lack of it. W h e n a person acts with knowledge and epistemological awareness of the consequences of his acts, then this act e m a nates from the secondary level, hence a 'scale of values'.

The dispute over the question of values stems from the argument that m a n does not always act with full awareness of a scale of values. Indeed, because some actions e m a nate from the primary level they are totally devoid of a scale of values. The Chinese sage, Confucius, m a d e the difference between yi and ft'.9 A person acts out of yi when he acts out of a sense of Tightness or 'what ought to be done at the m o m e n t ' . Thus, when someone is drowning or is in immediate danger, the action of one w h o saves him is out of yi if no conscious deliberation was previously m a d e . W h e n someone saves a person only after determining w h o the drowning person is, and the extent of possible danger to his o w n safety, then he acts out of li. Acts of heroism which transcend concern of one's own safety are m a d e out of yi, whereas acts for profit or gain are m a d e out of //. Yi corresponds to the primary level of values and li corresponds to the secondary level of values. O n e and the same act can therefore be both out of yi or out • of //. A conscious act without deliberation emanates from yi or the primary level of values, and a conscious, deliberate act stems from // or the secondary level of values.

Oriental values have been so woven into the very texture of the life that there is no


longer consciousness of them. A n Oriental acts out of yi when he tries to 'save face'. Western values likewise have become part of the second nature of a Westerner so that idleness and waste of time and energy are ruled out. While there are always exceptions, these oriental and Western values constitute unwritten codes of conduct. While some Westerners and Orientals do violate these codes, it is certainly out of li.

A s a modification of the Confucian doctrine, it m a y be useful to qualify that an adult very rarely acts out of pure yi. In other words, a person does not act simply from the primary level of values, which would imply that one can revert to that state of innocence whereby one acts out of a sheer perception of good or evil, or from 'what ought to be done'. In adult life 'oughtness' depends largely on situations, circumstances, convenience, selfishness, altruism, nationalism, friendship and a host of other motives, in short on //. These motives are learned from the group or society one joins. Rousseau asserted that m a n is good only in the state of nature, and that once he joins a society is slowly corrupted by it, implying that without society, m a n would retain his original virtue.

This theory of original virtue must, h o w ever, be refined. H u m a n beings are born neither good nor evil: they are born in a state of tabula rasa on which is slowly written a 'sense of values' through tlje rewards and punishments received. O n e w h o is never rewarded or punished will never form an ethical sense or a deeply ingrained sense of valúes. H e would be akin to an animal with no sense of right or wrong and would live according to his o w n pleasures. Rousseau was, however, right in postulating that society can corrupt an individual in the sense that he makes re-adjustments to his scale of values to conform to socially accepted behaviour.

The secondary scale of values is formed within society, i.e. in the company of others. It is therefore a sheen of culture, a gloss of civilization, a mere 'patina which, when scraped off, reveals the primary values. A savage w h o grows up in a jungle and never

has any contact with parents or society, will have neither the primary sense of values nor the secondary scale of values;10 a person w h o was subject to another, even in isolation, can and does form a primary sense of values but hardly any secondary scale of values; while one w h o , without submission to authority at an early age, was immediately projected into a society, like an unwanted child, will only develop a secondary scale of values that will be fragile and foundationless. T h e difference between one w h o was under the tutelage of parents or surrogate parents and one w h o was projected into a society at a very early age without supervision is that the former will always have a basis, a last recourse should the secondary scale of values fail, whereas the latter will act only out of expediency because he does not k n o w any better.

Very often, a person is judged by the laws of society according to prescribed standards of behaviour drawn from clearly established principles of right and wrong. These principles are rigid because they are based on primary values; but people do not act only out of primary but also out of secondary values. If h u m a n beings always acted out of a primary sense of values, they could do no wrong. Socrates was right in saying that 'if m a n knew the law, he would not violate it'. Expressed in another way , if the primary sense of values were always the basis of deliberate actions, then h u m a n beings would do no wrong. It would be like Kant's categorical imperative, whereby a m a n must because he must. Unfortunately, people are never in a primitive state where there are no conventions, no social pressures, no h u m a n complications. H u m a n behaviour is always in function of a society with its o w n values to which one must conform: ' W h e n in R o m e , do as the R o m a n s do' as the saying goes. The degree of adaptation of an individual depends largely on h o w well he is able to conform to the values of society.

A n Oriental m a y find great difficulty in adapting to Western values just as it is difficult for a Westerner to adapt to Oriental values. Compromises can be found only at the secondary level, never at the primary. It is


Changing relations between religious values and science: Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) is forced by the Inquisition to forswear the theory of the rotation of the earth, D . R .

have no place in science. A n d yet, values continue to bedevil the sciences, for their very choice of experimentation and ends are value-loaded. T h e list of published works on value is long because social scientists attempt to quantify what is unquantifiable, while physical scientists attempt to analyse value with their o w n tools. T h e project is d o o m e d to fail from the very start.

Axiology, or the philosophy of values, alone can disentangle the knotty discussion on values, for values are rooted in freedom. If m a n were an animal, it would be easy to plot his behaviour, for animals are structurally oriented towards values inherent in their species, from which there is no deviation. H u m a n beings, on the other hand, are oriented towards happiness, being free to seek this end through means of their o w n choosing.

therefore essential to determine a person's life-beginning, for the values inculcated at this stage can never be taken away.

Philosophy of values

T h e primary level, however, resists quantification and, therefore, analysis. There is no yardstick whereby the sciences can determine the depth and extent of primary values. T h e social sciences propose to study values to determine h u m a n behaviour, but motivations and goals are only the consequences of values. Before one can set a goal or be motivated by it, there is an anterior scale of values or priorities which moves one. T h e physical sciences seek to eliminate value-judgements from the scientific field, believing that values


Demonstration of the rotation of the earth by Léon Foucault's (1819-68) pendulum, in St Paul's Cathedral, London. Camera Press.

A n d herein lies a g a m u t of imponderables that cannot be plotted. W h y does a person pursue an objective relentlessly? W h y not abdicate in the face of overwhelming odds? O n the other hand, w h y does a person surrender to laziness at the slightest difficulty? O r w h y does a m a n exchange his fortune and good n a m e of a lifetime for a few m o m e n t s or months of pleasure? In each case, w h y d o people value one good higher than another?

A s Louis Lavelle points out, whenever or wherever there is an 'inequality a m o n g things' or whenever one thing is to be placed before another, or one is to b e judged superior or inferior to another, a scale of value applies.11 For this reason, values are always philosophical in character because they involve a choice, an option, thereby evoking the

entire spectrum of culture, experience, education, w h i m s , caprices, etc.

T h e topic of values can never be exhausted by social scientists because of the existence of freedom. N o h u m a n agency can predict a future, free act. All h u m a n sciences are reduced to impotence where freedom is involved, for an individual can deny his entire scale of values b y one supreme act of freed o m . H e can even d o violence to his sense of primary values. Values are guidelines and indices of behaviour but they are not the sole determinants of social action because of hum a n freedom. T h e w i s d o m of Bergson's doctrine thus transpires: states the essence of which is to flow like life, consciousness, freedom and duration, can never be understood by intellect; only by intuition.12 W h a t intellect grasps are things that can be arrested


or are already accomplished, but it can never grasp things in a state of flux. Since values cannot be divorced from freedom and consciousness which are continuously in a state of flux, it follows that values are inscrutable to the intellect.

W h e n m a n joins a society, he carries with him his sense and scale of values. Social action is therefore always tinged with individual freedom. For this reason, man's behaviour in society will remain an enigma. T h e question of value is reduced to only one question: ' T o be or not to be', and to this question only the individual, whether alone or in society, can respond. Contrary to general observation, society, as society, does not respond. Society is m a d e up of individuals enjoying free-will or a liberty of indifference. Social action is therefore individual action first. M a r x was right in saying that living h u m a n individuals are 'the first premise of all h u m a n history'.13

There is of course a reciprocal interaction between the individual and society. Society can influence the individual through its accepted values just as the individual can influence society through his reactions to

these values. Socialization is a complex process. It is the transmittal of a totality of culture accumulated through m a n y generations and for which reason, the term 'incul-turation' is n o w preferred.14 There is no way to measure the degree of reaction to this inculturation for the element of freedom is always involved.

All the boons of modern technology, all the statistical sophistication of present-day disciplines are impotent w h e n faced with intractable freedom. It is perhaps salutary to m a n that not all of his faculties can be predicted or managed by computers.

Philosophy has lost a lot of ground to the social and physical sciences in the twentieth century. In the universities, the slots for philosophy are being replaced by more quantified subjects. A n d yet, have the sciences really encompassed all h u m a n faculties? It is evident that as yet, the twin faculty of m a n , as a free-willed and evaluating being has not yet been successfully plotted. Freedom and values belong to m a n ' s deepest humanity, making him what he is. In a sense, it can well be said, 'I value, therefore, I a m . '


Notes

1. M a x Weber, The Methodology of the Social Sciences, N e w York, The Free Press, 1949.

2. Ernst Nagel, The Structure of Science, N e w York, Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1961.

3. See two volumes of W . H . Werkmeister, Historical Spectrum of Value Theories, Lincoln, N e b . , Johnsen Pub. C o . , 1970. These two volumes contain only German and Anglo-American writers on values. Not even French writers are included.

4. Ibid., Vol I, p . 3. The expression belongs to Jeremy Bentham.

5. Child psychologists including Piaget consider the age of 12 as the end of the age of innocence. Until the age of 12, the child is considered impressionable,

docile and capable of imbibing ethical or moral laws of behaviour.

6. Gunnar Myrdal, Objectivity in Social Research, p. 57, N e w York, Pantheon Books, 1969.

7. John F . Emling, Value Perspectives Today, p. 21, N e w Jersey, Associated University Presses, Inc., 1977.

8. Jean-Paul Sartre, Critique de la raison dialectique, p. 543, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1960.

9. Confucius, Analects, Book IV, p. 16. N e w York, Vintage Books, 1938.

10. The Catholic philosopher-theologian, T h o m a s Aquinas, teaches that m a n is born with synderesis, a quasi-angelic power to discern between good and evil so that even if m a n were

born and raised in a jungle, he would still know the moral law. This doctrine, however, bordered on the theological. Summa Theologiae, P.I, Q . 79, A. 12.

11. Louis Lavelle, Traité des valeurs, Vols. I and II, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1951-55; see Vol. I, p. 3.

12. Henri Bergson, Essai sur les données immédiates de la conscience, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1961.

13. German Ideology, Part I, on Feuerbach.

14. S. Takdir Alisjahbana, Values as Integrating Forces in Personality, Society, Culture, p. 132. Kuala L u m p u r , University of Malaya Press, 1966.

Bibliography

A L I S J A H B A N A , S. T . Values as Integrating Forces in Personality, Society and Culture. Kuala Lumpur, University of Malaya Press, 1966.

B A I E R , K . ; R E S C H E R , N . Values and the Future. N e w York, The .Free Press, 1969.

B E R G S O N , H . Essai sur les données immédiates de la conscience. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1961.

C O N F U C I U S . Analects. N e w York, A Vintage Book, N e w York, Random House, 1938.

E M U N G , J. F. Value Perspectives Today. N e w Jersey,

Associated University Presses, Inc., 1977.

F A C I O N E , P . A . , et al. Values and Society. Englewood Cliffs, N . J . , Prentice-Hall, 1978.

L A V E L L E , L . Traité des valeurs. Vols. I and II, Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1951-55.

L O W E , C . M . Value Orientations in Counselling and Psychotherapy. San Francisco, Calif., Chandler Pub. C o . , 1969.

M U R P H Y , G . Personality. N e w York, Harper, 1947.

M Y R D A L , G . Objectivity in Social Research. N e w York, Pantheon Books, 1969.

N A G E L , Ë . The Structure of Science. N e w York, Harcourt, Brace & World Inc., 1961.

S A R T R E , J.-P. Critique de la raison dialectique. Paris, Gallimard, 1960.

S I N G S O N , J. M . Philippine Ethical Values. Manila, Integrated Research Center, D e La Salle University, 1979.

W E B E R , M . The Methodology of Science. N e w York, The Free Press, 1949.

WERKMEISTER, W . H . Historical Spectrum of Value Theories. Vols. I and II. Lincoln, Neb., Johnsen Pub. C o . , 1970.

Commodif ¡cation of the social sciences

Claude Ake

The social sciences have been commodified and it would appear that problems associated with commodification constitute the greatest challenge to the social sciences today. C o m modification limits in very fundamental ways the scientific development of the social sciences and their contribution to h u m a n well-being. M o r e specifically, it divorces the production of the social sciences from social needs, renders social science knowledge m o r e prone to aid domination than enlightenment and focuses research on problems of limited scientific value. These problems can only be seen and grasped in the context of the specificities of the process of commodification. W h a t are these specificities?

The genesis of commodification

Claude Ake , a Nigerian political scientist, is Dean of the School of Social Sciences, University of Port-Harcourt, Port-Harcourt, Nigeria. H e has published books and articles on political science and the political economy of Africa.

of production is revolutionized by the instruments of labour which are n o w machines. The take-over of production by machines was really the essence of the revolutionary character of the Industrial Revolution. W h e n m a chines m o v e in as the basis of production, science begins to dominate production and opens up infinite possibilities for innovation. For, by its very nature, science never accepts the present situation as what must be, it never

accepts absolute solutions or limits and is forever straining beyond present achievements to n e w challenges. M a r x was right in saying:

T h e principal impetus towards the commodification of the sciences stems from the Industrial Revolution. Indeed commodification of science lies in the very essence of this revolution. Following M a r x one can divide the revolution into two phases: an earlier phase of manufacture, in which the m o d e of production is revolutionized essentially by labour power and the instruments of production are still largely tools; a second phase, 'modern industry' in which the m o d e

Modern industry never looks upon and treats the existing form of a process as final. The technical basis of that industry is therefore revolutionary, while all earlier modes of production were essentially conservative. By means of machinery,

chemical processes and other methods, it is continually causing changes not only in the technical basis of production, but also in the functions of labour, and in the social combinations of the labour-process.

This is all the more so on account of the dynamism of capitalism, which emanates from competition. W h e n machines b e c o m e the pivot of production, competition tends to take

616 Claude Ake

the form of using science to improve the technical basis of production in a ceaseless bid to maximize efficiency and corner the market. In so far as capitalism lives up to its ideal character, that is, remains competitive, it has an insatiable appetite for science, a fact epitomized by the ever-increasing corporate investment in research and development. Not surprisingly, capital (corporate and state) has become the major consumer of science and, as such, the decisive influence on the production of science.

Inevitably, the production of science responded to and became conditioned by effective demand . A s capital pressed science into its service and gave impetus to its production, science was progressively c o m m o d i -fied, for it was increasingly produced as an intermediary product, a necessary input for production of commodities or in demand from consumers and therefore exchanged. H o w ever, there is a certain ambiguity in the commodified nature of science. At one level there are ever larger armies of scientists toiling at research, trying to produce exchange values, just like workers in a shoe factory. F r o m this perspective the commodity character of science is unambiguous. At another level, especially in larger corporations, there is a tendency to internalize the consumption of the scientific product, to monopolize aspects of it so that it is not available for indiscriminate use or purchase. F r o m this perspective it is seen that science is not only commodified but also 'accumulated' and hoarded.

These tendencies hold both for the natural sciences and the social sciences, although in the social sciences their manifestations are m o r e subtle. T h e Industrial Revolution created an immense d e m a n d not only for natural science knowledge but also for knowledge about the social sphere. In the wake of the process of primitive accumulation which preceded the Industrial Revolution, there was a serious problem of controlling behaviour, of finding adequate ideological representations of the emerging m o d e of production. First, masses of people had to be dislodged from

pre-capitalist production relations and expropriated, then they had to be dissuaded from occupying themselves in 'unproductive' ways such as begging and thieving, and induced to offer their labour power as a commodity. T h e foundations of contemporary social sciences were laid in the context of these problems and grew in step with the development of industrial capitalism. This can easily be seen in the case of political economy. Political economy developed as the discipline for understanding and rationalizing industrial capitalism, and its growth has followed the development of capitalism. During its earlier history it was easy for political economy to assume an appearance of objectivity and universality. But as the contradictions of capitalism grew its ideological character was more and more exposed. B y the middle of the nineteenth century, political economy had entered what Isaac Rubin called (in his A History of Economic Thought) a 'vulgar phase' in which its investigations were increasingly restricted to 'superficially studying phenomena as they might appear to the capitalist, instead of probing into the internal connection between them'. This was the period of the marginalist school when political economy became more and more engrossed in the refinement of technique while the questions it posed got narrower and more specific, and increasingly unhelpful for understanding the social system as opposed to its manipulation for desired effects.

T h e process of commodification of the sciences was reinforced by the development of the modern state, itself a product of industrial capitalism. T h e state is the political correlate of capitalism. Ideally the state is the modality of class domination specific to the capitalist m o d e of production. For what is unique about this modality of domination is that it is mediated by commodity exchange. It is because of this mediation by commodity exchange that the institutional mechanisms of domination are differentiated and dissociated from the ruling class and even society and thus appear as an objective force 'standing alongside society'. Unfortunately, this must remain


In Praise of Dialectics, painting by R e n é Magritte (1898-1967). Giwudon.

618 Claude Ake

a dogmatic assertion as its elaboration will take us too far afield.

Like the corporations, the state had a huge appetite for science. A s the classic institutional expression of the capital relation the state necessarily epitomized the u n c o m promising rationalism of capitalism. It needed science to maintain the conditions for accumulation, to resolve the contradictions between private capitals and also between social capital and private capitals. These contradictions had to be resolved for capitalism to survive but could not be done efficiently without science at a time w h e n science had m o v e d to a dominant position in material production. Also as arbiter, the state was in competition with private capitals (if it could not match their power it could not discipline them to maintain the conditions for accumulation) and had to be well equipped, in fact, better equipped than the corporations which were obliged to engage in the assiduous accumulation of science. Also, capitalism's tendency towards globalization brought the age of competing nation-states and competing imperialisms and colonial struggles, and the nation-state needed science to maintain itself as a going concern in the n e w system. These were the circumstances in which states themselves became avid consumers of science.

They consumed science in a manner which gave impetus to their commodification. This was particularly so in the case of the social sciences. Since the social sciences deal with h u m a n beings and social relations, they are directly relevant to the maintenance of existing social orders or their subversion. Naturally, governments felt that they could not afford to encourage the production of social science knowledge in a generally uncontrolled w a y . They have been very concerned about controlling the conditions under which social science is produced. T o some extent they have tried to exercise this control by establishing units within their structure for the production of such social science as they need. But this manner of dealing with matters raises other serious problems which need not detain us here. It has been m o r e convenient to farm

out the production of social science knowledge to client institutions which are formally outside governments but largely dependent or controlled by them. Notable among these client institutions are University Social Science Faculties and quasi-independent academic establishments. T h e process of c o m modification is inherent in these conditions for the production of the social sciences, for production is carried out by specialized institutions not for their o w n consumption but for that of the state and the hegemonic classes. It is well to note that this is a rather unique form of commodity production; in some ways it is rather like the putting-out system of guild production. For here, the commodity producer and the consumer of the commodity are not really independent. It is not difficult to imagine h o w this form of commodification impairs the scientific development of the social sciences.

T h e commodification of the social sciences has received impetus from contemporary functional specialization and the peculiar circumstances in which science has been organized as a vocation. T h e production of scientific knowledge demands lenghty, tedious and very expensive training which has to be constantly updated. It is an entirely absorbing commitment. For those w h o produce it, science is a vocation. O n e notable feature of science as a vocation is that it invariably takes the form of commodity production. Only in very exceptional circumstances is anyone likely to enjoy the luxury of independence with personal facilities and freedom to pursue any line of scientific inquiry that captures his fancy. M o r e often than not the scientist seeks work in an institution which pays him a salary and in addition offers access to facilities such as libraries, laboratories and research funds necessary for the application of scientific talent. In short, scientific talent is divorced from the objective conditions for its unfolding, the scientist obtains access to such objective conditions only as a commodity producer. T h e scientific product is thus a means of exchange and scientific activity less a free expression of creativity or a disinterested


quest for truth than routine application to tasks in which the individual is not necessarily interested. Because of the value generally placed on material well-being and status, scientists are often keen to exchange their scientific skills in a manner that will maximize these 'utilities' rather than knowledge or h u m a n well-being. Scientists are understandably anxious to avoid devaluing their skills and reducing their exchange value. This sometimes makes them into obstacles to scientific progress and the spread of enlightenment; for instance, they m a y denigrate n e w and better scientific thrusts and mask the irrelevance and deficiencies of certain skills, procedures and theories in order to ensure continued d e m a n d for their o w n services.

Problems of commodification

Problems associated with commodification are perhaps the greatest obstacle to the development of the social sciences and their contribution to h u m a n welfare. A comprehensive treatment of these problems will not be attempted here. Only a few of the most salient features can be indicated and those only impressionistically.

Whenever production is commodified it tends to be dissociated from social need. This is especially so in the case of the social sciences. W h e n a good becomes commodified the conditions of its production and the nature of the product become defined especially within the range of interaction between dem a n d and supply. O n the one hand, the type of social science produced is dictated by the nature of the effective d e m a n d for it. In this case the effective d e m a n d comes from a limited source, namely, the corporations, the state and its apparatuses. There is very little effective popular d e m a n d for social science

- and that which exists is not sufficiently focused to compel changes in the types actually produced. T h e need for social science knowledge on, for example n o w to maintain order, does not immediately compel the attention of people engrossed in the urgencies of daily

survival w h o are not in a position to exercise domination over others. Even if the need for such knowledge came to.popular attention, there would be little means of satisfying it. In the circumstances, effective demand is exercised by those narrow but powerful interests which control the state and the corporations.

This is unfortunately reinforced by what happens on the supply side. O n e can normally expect some dissociation of supply from dem a n d in the sense that effective demand decides what is supplied only to. a limited extent. Actual products depend to some extent on what suppliers or-commodity producers can offer while producers can often create a certain demand for their products H o w e v e r , in our case, producers do not have m u c h autonomy from those w h o wield effective d e m a n d for the social sciences. The state and the corporations provide the material ' conditions for the creation of social science knowledge, it is they w h o supply the institutional context, the libraries and laboratories, the grants and research tools which enable the social scientist to produce. This lack of autonomy is reinforced by the socioeconomic specificity of social scientists. Those w h o are in a position to produce significant social science knowledge are themselves highly privileged with essentially identical class positions as those of the powerful interests that control the state and the corporations: indeed, the social science establishment is a mechanism of such control.

T h e import of all this is that social science knowledge is largely produced in response to very narrow interests. It is dissociated from social need, if not actually antagonistic to it. For by virtue of their objective interests the controlling groups in the corporations and the state d e m a n d a very specific kind of social knowledf °-, namely, one that reproduces their exploitative domination of the rest of society.

N o w h e r e is the dissociation of the production of social science knowledge from needs more apparent than in post-colonial Africa. Outsiders tried • to influence the characters and teaching of the social sciences

620 Claude Ake

in Africa in order to further their imperial purposes. This was done largely through the big foundations, the provision of university teachers to Africa, the award of scholarships to promising African students as part of university staff-development programmes, and the sponsorship of textbooks. Such an effort, combined with the legacy of Western education surviving from the colonial experience firmly established Western mainstream social science in most of Africa. However these social sciences with their foundations in the well-known classics, were oriented towards defending the values of order and capitalism. A n d that m a d e them exactly what African countries did not need. T o illustrate briefly with the value of order: those w h o were producing and propagating order-oriented social sciences were the ones w h o labelled the newly independent countries underdeveloped and submitted that they must, as a matter of the highest priority, break out of their condition because underdevelopment means; a m o n g other things, crushing poverty, debilitating dependence, ignorance and disease, technological backwardness, limited freedom and political instability. In other words, underdeveloped society is thoroughly undesirable and needs to be changed drastically, quickly. If that is granted, then it is a blatant contradiction to study such societies in the context of social sciences the value assumptions and conceptual apparatuses of which are primarily concerned with h o w to maintain order. It would appear that the type of social sciences required would be that with an affinity for revolution.

T h e received social sciences in Africa broke d o w n in contradiction even in relation to their o w n purpose. In an attempt to seduce by an appearance of relevance, they adopted a developmental thrust; societies were seen as existing along a continuum, the underdeveloped ones being assessed in terms of the possibility of m o v e m e n t towards development. Unfortunately, while the conceptual and theoretical apparatus of Western mainstream social sciences was perfectly capable of elaborating on the problem of order, it

was quite unsuitable and indeed inimical to the elaboration of change, especially the wholesale change that the underdeveloped countries need. Hence the contradiction; the tools of social science were dissociated from the goal which it set itself.

The dissociation of the production of knowledge from social need is related to the fact that those interests promoting the production of social science knowledge are excessively class-bound. This class bias is not just contingent, it is objectively necessary. It is inherent in the nature and origin of the social sciences. A s sciences of h u m a n relations, the social sciences actually arose from class differentiation and the need for exploitative control of h u m a n behaviour and relations. U n fortunately space does not permit a detailed argument of this thesis but a skeletal argument can be presented. In simple pre-capitalist societies such as those that Durkheim characterized as having 'mechanical solidarity', the need for social sciences does not really arise. While contradictions and conflict do exist knowledge of social relations is un-problematic, everyone knows their station and duties, there is no need for specialist interpretation of role expectations, laws and punishment, or even of culture. Knowledge of social relations is so widely shared, so well inculcated as part of the socialization process that a specialized study of social relations would be largely redundant. For the same reason m a n y forms of functional and structural specialization are absent (for instance, the presence of a specialized administrative apparatus) and roles can be functionally diffuse without any risk of orientational confusion.

But w h e n mechanical solidarity gives way to individualism and the differentiation of interests, w h e n society splits into conflictual social groups struggling for hegemony, the situation changes fundamentally. Social relations become problematic and so does knowledge of social relations. T h e established and widely shared knowledge of social relations becomes more and more irrelevant as the centrifugal pulls of the n e w social forces


c o m e to the fore. T h e salient problems of social relations n o w are those of co-ordination for goal attainment, integration, system maintenance and the maintenance of order. It is precisely these problems that the social sciences deal with. Interest in them is essentially class-specific; they arise primarily w h e n antagonistic contradictions have developed, w h e n the maintenance of hegemony has bec o m e problematic and w h e n some people must control and administer others.

T h e class biases of the social sciences are not a historical accident. They are not contingent on the fact that a certain class at a certain point in time captured control of a system of objective sciences and pressed them into the service of its narrow interests. They are inherent in the nature and genesis of the social sciences. B y the same token, they are not a product of the particular manner in which conditions for the production of social science are constituted. But, of course, these conditions reinforce the class character of the social sciences not least by ensuring their commodification. For, as w e have seen, the peculiar character of the conditions of production of this commodity is that its producers are not autonomous of its primary consumers w h o constitute a highly monopolistic group.

At this point w e are in a better position to clarify the dissociation of the production of social science knowledge from social needs. This should not be construed in an absolute sense. The social sciences serve some social needs. But they are primarily those of the small hegemonic social group, which, by virtue of its hegemony, controls the production of social science knowledge in accordance with its objective interests. T h e problem, of course, is that these needs are dissociated from and tendentially antagonistic to those of the vast majority of people in the social formation. It is in this sense, that is, taking the social formation as a whole, that one can refer to the dissociation of the production of social science knowledge from social need.

Implications for the scientific development of the social sciences

I n o w turn to consider the implications of the nature of social sciences and the conditions of their production for their scientific development. Since the social sciences are largely the product of very narrow interests tendentially in fundamental conflict with the rest of society, they tend to be ideological representations rather than tools of scientific understanding. T o illustrate with political economy: cause is deliberately confused with effect by representing as h u m a n nature modes of being (e.g. acquisitive individualism), which are the historical product of the capitalist m o d e of production; the unequal exchange of the market-place is misrepresented as the exchange of equivalents, the contribution of labour-power to value is minimized or glossed over while self-seeking is represented as the vehicle for the optimization of the public interest.

W e can illustrate the ideological character of social sciences more concretely by reference to some of the mainstream scholarship on the developing countries. Because of the interests of those w h o sponsored this effort, the central problem of development was essentially reduced to the question of h o w the developing countries could be m o r e like the West , and the practical concern became that of fashioning these countries after the image of the West. Not surprisingly this did not conduce to m u c h scientific evolution as development was trivialized and confused with a particular type of change; the desirability, feasibility or even the necessity of effecting this particular change was not left an open question, but rather taken for granted. There was limited interest in understanding the uniqueness of these countries and their o w n laws of development.

In these circumstances, the work produced very limited scientific understanding of development and of the countries in question. Yet in the developed countries the social

622 Claude Ake

m

"Contemporary social sciences grew in step with the development of industrial capitalism.' Above: Pre-capitalist industry: carpet-maker in El-Minya, Egypt. H . Cartier-BressonyMagnum.

Opposite: Powell's steam engine, which won a gold medal at the 1867 Paris Universal Exhibition. Explorer.

sciences have not fared m u c h better. Their scientific unfolding has been hampered by their preoccupation with the preservation and rationalization of the existing social order. T h e assumption that the existing social order is as it ought to be forecloses interesting scientific questions, depriving the social sciences of essential stimulus and confining them to relatively trivial problems and the refinement of technique. W e can see these tendencies in the famous 'end of ideology' -stance associated with authors like Daniel Bell, the confusion of empiricism with science and incremental mathematicization of minor problems with scientific progress.

T h e groups that control the production of the social sciences, especially government and the corporations, do encourage research. But

the research they encourage does not contribute m u c h to progress in the social sciences. W e have already touched on one reason for this state of affairs, namely, the tendency to avoid certain kinds of problems. In addition, there is the bias caused by their preference for research supportive of their o w n policies. They tend to lean heavily towards research that will solve largely short-run policy problems. There is very little basic research of an open-ended nature that questions fundamental assumptions of existing social science practice. Research problems are often defined by official functionaries and entrepreneurs w h o want unambiguous answers to rather narrow questions. A n d research is more often than not evaluated and the possibilities or further work determined not by those


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interested in scientific progress but by those with practical concerns for w h o m the advancement of science is a peripheral issue.

T h e situation is not helped by the transformation of social scientists into commodity producers. A s is to be expected, they gear their productive effort to the locus of effective demand and highest returns on their input. This has encouraged some social scientists to go along with the utilitarian concerns of governments and corporations, to collaborate in the use of science to rationalize instead of promoting understanding. Since the marketability of their skills depends so m u c h on social recognition which is largely controlled by the hegemonic social groups, social scientists are under pressure to remain in the 'mainstream' where practice is dominated by

the values of those same hegemonic groups. Worse , some enter into active opposition to novel and m o r e scientifically promising developments which threaten to devalue their o w n skills. Taking account of all these factors, it m a y well be that the limited scientific development of the social sciences is due less to the complexity of their subject-matter than to the circumstances in which they are produced and consumed.

Conclusion

Problems associated with the commodification of the social sciences limit in very fundamental ways their scientific development and contribution to h u m a n well-being. These prob-

624 ClaudeAke

lems are perhaps the greatest challenge to the social sciences today. H o w is this challenge to be met? T o begin with, it is necessary to intensify criticism of current social science practice. A considerable amount of critical work is being done but there is need for an increase in scope, depth and concreteness. In the-past insufficient attention has been paid to the conditions under which social science is produced or to the phenomenon of corn-modification and its effects. Also, certain questions about the objective character of the social sciences have not been examined closely enough, in particular, whether the problems under review here are due to the historical specificities of particular producers or consumers of the social sciences, or the condition of production, or whether the social sciences c o m e into being essentially as sciences of exploitative domination. Here it is pertinent to point out that even the existence of radically critical social science, such as Marxism, does not even settle such questions conclusively. Marxism arose from the contradictions of what w e have called mainstream social sciences and is ultimately their negation. But as the product and antithesis of the older social sciences it is paradoxically in dialectical unity with them and it is not at all clear h o w Marxism can be constructed as a social science beyond this negation.

N o r does the experience of contemporary socialist formations mitigate such uncertainty. T h e differences between them and the capitalist formations are fundamental enough; none the less the problems of the social sciences reviewed here largely apply to them also because these problems are inherent in the nature of the state and the phenomenon of commodification. Commodification is clearly a feature c o m m o n to both socialist and capitalist formations. In contemporary socialist formations, labour power is also divorced from its means of realization and alienated as a condition for gaining access to the means of its realization. T o be sure, in this case, its alienation m a y not be exploitative, that is, it m a y not entail the expropriation of surplus value. However , the adverse effects of corn-

modification of the social sciences which have been discussed here have little to do with the expropriation of surplus value. A s to the state, it represents a modality of domination and presupposes antagonistic contradictions and class struggle. T h e state is never really the state of all, but rather expresses the hegemony of some . A s a relation of domination characterized by intense hegemonic struggles the state can never be democratic in the concrete sense. This is all too clear in the case of capitalist formations. However , it is also true, though to a lesser extent, even for social formations in which the popular class has become hegemonic.. For one thing the necessities of domination and class struggle impose hierarchic structures that tendentially alienate those w h o directly control state power from those they are supposed to be representing. Thus Marxism in power invariably falls into serious contradiction with Marxism in opposition and is unable to provide a reliable image of what a social science rooted in popular interests would look like. The problem is not solved by invoking the authenticity of Marxism in opposition and extrapolating from it. For Marxism is so completely in dialectical unity with the system it seeks to negate that such an exercise will be futile, and it is so geared to the limited purpose of negation that it does not formulate what happens afterwards. Indeed, the doctrine would have contradicted its very essence if it did not leave the determination of the future to the dialectics of history.

T h e conditions under which social science knowledge is produced and consumed render the task of broadening and deepening critical work along the lines suggested very difficult. However , there is some leverage in the contradictions of prevailing social science practice: the contradiction between its latent functions as ideology and its manifest functions as science, the contradiction between its practical utility for the manipulative purposes of hegemonic groups and its uselessness far making sense of social life. These contradictions provide an objective basis for the promotion of the kinds of heightened critical

Cotnmodification of the social sciences 625

consciousness which has been suggested here.

T h e n e w critical consciousness will not just materialize from anywhere but must be based on objective conditions, especially contradictions in material life. T h e implication is that the task of dealing with the problems of commodification in the social sciences is first and foremost a 'political' task and only incidentally a scientific task. For the first order of business must be to decide what and whose problems are to be solved by the social sciences, what interests are to be served, what values maximized. A n d these are clearly political decisions. T h e social sciences will

serve the well-being of humanity to the extent that social scientists decide to commit themselves firmly and concretely to popular interests in their practice. This commitment will provide the greatest stimulus to the development of the social sciences. For with this commitment the social sciences enter into the mainstream of history, confront and concern themselves with the problems that are critical for mankind and develop from the impetus of their challenge. Whether the social sciences can m o v e decisively in this direction must remain an open question. But if they do, they will be radically different from what they are today.

wmmMmmÊSimËMMgssËsaÊSgmm The social sciences and the study of international relations

Philippe Braillard

T h e rapid development of the social sciences is no doubt one of the m o r e striking p h e n o m ena of our century. T h e diversification of approaches, adoption of n e w research tools and methods, broadening of analytical scope and penetration into n e w areas have caused a profound upheaval in the social science landscape, especially in the last few decades. T h e number and pace of these developments have led the social sciences to lay a claim to proper scientific status, and to recognition and a role of their o w n in academic institutions and in the world of research in general. W h a t is m o r e , a large number of n e w fields have emerged as a result of the desire to give the social sciences a direct active role to play.

H o w e v e r , these changes have not occurred entirely smoothly and without clashes between different conceptions of the actual nature of social relations and between different approaches and analytical methods. They have also had the effect of bringing about increasingly marked specialization in the various disciplines, and this has led to increasing criticism and expressions of concern over the tendency in the social sciences to reflect in a piecemeal and often reductionistic manner the richness and c o m plexity of real life. S o m e even go so far today

Philippe Braillard teaches the theory and sociology of international relations at the Graduate School of International Studies, Geneva. H e has published several books, including Théorie des systèmes et relations internationales (1977), L'imposture du Club de Rome (1982) and Tiers Monde et relations internationales (1984).

as to call fundamentally in question the idea of the social sciences as a rigorous scientific discipline, on the grounds that the inevitable ethnocentrism ideological commitment of any researcher impose radical limitations on her or him.

Since the impression given by the social sciences today is of a complex field in a state of flux, it is legitimate and indeed necessary to ask what functions m a y be assigned to them

and what challenges and difficulties, and even limitations, they encounter in their development. Rather than indulge in general, abstract speculation, however, w e felt that it would be useful to focus our attention on one particular aspect of social reality. This will enable us to adopt a m o r e precise and m o r e concrete approach to s o m e of the problems faced today by the social sciences.

O f the various aspects of social reality that m a y be investigated, there is one that seems to lend itself particularly well to this kind of inquiry, namely international relations, for here w e have a subject of research that, m o r e than any other, is n o w c o m m o n ground for the various social sciences. Whereas , traditionally, political philosophy, diplomatic history, international law and political economy all used to contribute to the

628 Philippe Braillard

study of international relations, in the course of this century m a n y of the social sciences—sociology, political science, ethnology, psychology, anthropology, demography, etc. —have progressively laid claim to the subject. This is w h y it can be said that ever since the period between the two wars not only have international relations earned themselves the position of an independent field of study but there has also been a degree of decentralization in research on the subject, which has been increasingly extended to include m a n y of the rapidly developing social sciences in addition to traditional disciplines.

Furthermore, the growing importance of international relations today in the life of societies cannot leave social scientists indifferent, as attested to by the swift expansion of research on the subject. W e live in an era deeply marked by conflict and one in which the potential for destruction available to us renders the consequences of a major conflagration quite incalculable. After the Second Wor ld W a r , the cold war , reflecting the strategic and ideological antagonism of the two superpowers, deeply affected the structure, development and lives of m a n y societies, particularly as a result of the building of systems of alliance dominated respectively by the United States of America and the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. Again, the emergence of the Third World on the international scene hs opened up a n e w dimension in international relations and has led to confrontation between the developing countries and the industrialized countries. Within the Third World itself, there are evergrowing conflicts whose consequences often reach far beyond the borders of the regions directly concerned. In the course of this century the international system has thus b e c o m e truly worldwide in scale; international relations have acquired a global dimension, it being no longer possible for any single country to stand outside the international strategic context.

These changes and the importance of international relations today do not, however, stem solely from technological developments

in weaponry and the—at least potential—globalization of conflicts: they are also the result of the growth of economic, technological and cultural exchanges between the various societies. This growth, which is one of the end results of the modernization process set in train by the Industrial Revolution, has unquestionably provided the framework for a complex network of interdependent relations between the various societies. While this p h e n o m e n o n is no doubt characterized by the existence of serious inequalities or imbalances within that interdependence, to the point where it has often become a means for penetration and domination, the fact remains that on a global scale there is n o w more interpénétration between societies, it is m u c h m o r e difficult to distinguish foreign policy from domestic policy and there are m a n y transnational forces and non-state actors that tend to restrict governments' scope for manoeuvre. International relations, therefore, are tending to play an ever more decisive role in the functioning and development of our societies.

The need for interdisciplinarity

It is not unusual to hear researchers—particularly political scientists—assert that the study of international relations has, in the course of its development, given birth to a separate, self-contained discipline.1 A s sertions of this kind are usually based on the belief that it is essential to take account of the specific nature of international relations as an object of study. Particular emphasis is placed on the difference between the structures and political processes specific to integrated societies and the international system, the latter being characterized by a low degree of intergration and by the absence of political structures binding its m e m b e r s . In other words, the conceptual and methodological tools developed in the study of integrated societies are considered to be inoperative and even dangerous as a means of studying a social system in its natural state.


It seems difficult to dispute the specific nature of international relations. T h e existence of an international sphere m a d e up of sovereign state entities able, within certain limits, legitimately to resort to armed force to defend their interests2 characterizes a specific field of social relations. Admittedly, it is increasingly difficult today to draw the line between domestic and foreign policy, and there is clearly an increasing part played in international relations by non-state entities such as multinational corporations and transnational forces, which tend to restrict the power of states. T h e swift development of bonds of economic, technological, cultural and strategic interdependence and the emergence of countless co-operation structures, whether governmental or non-governmental, are also signs that international relations are becoming increasingly highly organized, reducing the gap between the international system and the various integrated political systems of nation-states.

Despite this growth in international relations, however, there is no denying the existence of states and of frontiers between the various societies forming states. T h e specific characteristic of international relations is the fact that they constitute flows that cross frontiers. International relations are therefore determined primarily not by the nature of the actors involved—states or other social entities—but by the structure of the system in which they develop—the existence of frontiers crossed by communication flows. T h e specific nature of international relations can thus be brought out by defining them as social relations that cross frontiers and link the various societies forming nation-states. Describing them as relations established between various societies covers not only intergovernmental relations, in which the actors are states but also infra-governmental relations, in which the actors are such diverse social groups as enterprises, scientific societies, sporting and religious associations, etc.

There is no doubt that this definition of international relations is conditioned by his

tory, for it applies strictly to something whose existence m a y be limited in time. It is conceivable, for instance, that state structures will disappear one day. Such a change would not only m a k e this definition obsolete but would even render the very notion of international relations meaningless.3

T h e fact that international relations are recognized as possessing a specific nature—if only relative and partial—is a legitimate reason for making them a clearly defined object of study or field of analysis but does not, in m y view, justify the claim for a n e w discipline within the social sciences under the n a m e of 'international relations'. T h e fact is that what is properly characteristic of any discipline is not just its object but the approach adopted in the study of that object and therefore the w a y of delimiting the field of analysis. W h e n w e look at the study of international relations today w e are bound to recognize that, far from being conducted by a single discipline, it involves a great m a n y of the social sciences, such as political science, sociology, economics, law, history, anthropology, social psychology, etc., with each of these disciplines approaching the subject from a particular standpoint. There are in fact m a n y aspects to inernational relations—economic, political, social and cultural—and, unless international relations are reduced to just one aspect considered to be of paramount importance, it is not possible to explain the eminently complex subject of international p h e n o m e n a through just one discipline, n e w though it m a y be.

A n d yet, as has already been suggested above, is it not likely that the social sciences m a y be unable to study international relations to any good effect by using concepts and models developed in the analysis of integrated societies? T h e specific nature of international relations—social relations across frontiers—does not preclude the existence of s o m e degree of organization and co-operation in those relations. Moreover, there is a widespread tendency in the study of what are k n o w n as integrated societies to reject—and in this they are following the path opened up


by Marxist sociology—the model of a society exempt from conflict and proof against anarchy. A s a result, the social sciences have to a great extent included in their approaches the conflictual dimension characteristic of any social relationship, and this enables them to develop models that m a y shed light on international relations.

Because there are several disciplines involved and hence a number of different approaches, the study of international relations today gives the impression of being piecemeal or even completely disjointed. T h e wealth of knowledge gained from a multiplicity of approaches tends to be achieved at the expense of coherent analysis. W h a t at the outset was meant simply to be a guarantee of comprehensiveness has tended tö become actually a source of incoherence. W e have c o m e to the point today where the study of international relations is broken up into a host of different approaches and disciplines with all too often little or no connection between them and too little concern to relate their different approaches to an overall view of the object studied. W e have here a phenomenon that is typical of all the social sciences today and one scientists have become increasingly aware of, prompting m a n y of them to advocate an interdisciplinary attitude and approach.

Interdisciplinarity has thus become a fashionable cry, and the study of international relations has not remained outside its range. It must be admitted, however, that there has not been m u c h progress beyond solemn pronouncements about the virtues of integrating the various disciplines, which has prompted m a n y people to accuse interdisciplinarity of being a failure or in any event an illusion. In m y view it cannot in fact be otherwise as long as interdisciplinarity continues to be seen as a global, undifferentiated exercise that has the effect of merely juxtaposing different viewpoints in a haphazard fashion. T h e interdisciplinary enrichment based on integration of the various dimensions of social reality cannot be brought about either on a global scale or by decree. W h a t must be done, as

increasing numbers of scientists are doing, is to start out more modestly from the precise needs that emerge from the study of a phenomenon or a structure and to seek to achieve cross-fertilization between different standpoints w h e n analysing the object in question. Thus, to take but a few examples in the field of international relations, subjects like the study of development, that of transnational corporations or international organizations and that of international conflicts might lend themselves to interdisciplinary working methods.

A n initial approach to such working methods might be to incorporate into a discipline dimensions, variables and hypotheses taken into account and brought to light by other disciplines. Thus, for example, the political scientist wanting to study the stratification of the international system and particularly the ascendancy of the industrialized countries over the developing countries must consider in his analysis the norms of international public law as an element of that stratification and as an instrument of domination.4 Conversely, a jurist looking at the progressive emergence of development law cannot afford to overlook the power structure characterizing the contemporary international system, for it is against that structure that the Third World countries seeking to establish the broad principles of a n e w international economic order are fighting.

However , this initial form of interdisciplinary enrichment cannot alone meet all the requirements that arise in the study of certain phenomena. It1 is not enough merely to incorporate into one particular discipline viewpoints stemming from other disciplines, because certain phenomena must be considered globally from the outset. Only a transdisciplinary approach going beyond traditional disciplinary frameworks and opening the way to a paradigm of complexity5 can do justice to the multidimensional and complex nature of certain objects. T h e study of development is highly revealing in this respect. It is n o w realized that the phenomenon of development, which plays a very important role in

The social sciences and the study of international relations '631

' A n increasing part is played by multinational corporations and transnational forces'. Rapho.

the study of international relations, cannot be apprehended satisfactorily from models developed within the frame of a specific discipline, even if such models take into account the contributions of other disciplines.6 There is no such thing as economic development, social development or political development taken separately. Development is a global p h e n o m e n o n that must be seen as such from the start in all its m a n y dimensions—economic, political, social, cultural, etc. This requirement can be satisfied only by a trans-disciplinary approach in which an attempt is m a d e to cut across the boundaries of traditional disciplines, developing n e w conceptual frameworks and models. It is by seeking to respond to this need for transdisciplinarity that the study of international relations will no doubt m a k e s o m e progress in the future beyond its present fragmented state.

Looking for a paradigm

T h e study of international relations is fragmented or piecemeal not only because of the diversity of disciplines or viewpoints upon which it is based but also—and to a far greater extent—because of lack of agreement a m o n g scientists about what it is that constitutes the specific nature, the essence, of its object and about the general explanatory framework to be built for organizing the research. In other words, the study of international relations is characterized by the absence of a paradigm7

and by the fact that there are several general explanatory models pitted against one another, several conceptions of its object. This situation is not in fact peculiar to the study of international relations: it is characteristic of the whole field of investigation covered by the social sciences.

A n initial conception of international


relations, which stems from T h o m a s Hobbes' theory of the natural state, puts emphasis on the non-integrated anarchical and therefore conflictual nature of the international system. It sees the specific characteristic of international relations in the recourse to conflict, or m o r e precisely in what R a y m o n d Aron calls 'the legitimacy of recourse to armed force on the part of states'. F r o m this standpoint, the state is seen as the central actor in international relations, whose dynamic is the evolving pattern of the balance of power a m o n g states. The sphere of foreign policy is quite distinct from that of domestic policy, and its central concern in the security of the state. Foreign policy options are rational choices m a d e in the national interest. The foreign policy of states, while it does not succeed in obliterating the profoundly anarchical nature of the international system, can nevertheless ensure a m i n i m u m degree of order and some balance of power, notably through diplomacy and the development of international law and international organizations.8

F r o m the end of the Second World W a r onwards, this conception of international relations was widely disseminated by the American realistic school of thought which set itself up in opposition to the Wilsonian idealistic and legalistic view of an international society progressing towards pacification and integration as a result of a process of d e m o cratization. The failure of the League of Nations, the Second World W a r and then the development of the cold war unquestionably lent weight to this 'conflictual' conception of international relations, which prevailed until the 1960s and still has a considerable following.

A second conception of international relations places emphasis on interdependence and co-operatjon and subscribes to the view that contemporary international relations do not correspond to the conflictual and interstate model of the realistic paradigm. The dynamic of modernization set off by the Industrial Revolution and given an unprecedented impetus after the Second World

W a r as a result of the development of technology and growth of international exchanges has helped to construct a complex pattern of interdependence between the various societies and has led to the emergence of new types of actors in international relations. This modernization process has for instance given rise to n e w needs and demands in our societies and to value systems based on economic and social welfare. T h e development model progressively adopted by the various societies, whether in the Third World or in the industrialized countries, has placed new social and economic responsibilities on the state, which has proved less and less1, capable of meeting these n e w demands on its o w n . Other forces—supranational, transnational and sub-national—have thus emerged on the international scene and in m a n y cases have tended to restrict states' room to manoeuvre, as testified to, for example, by the development of transnational corporations. In order to meet the demands for economic and social development, states have as a rule had to open themselves up increasingly to exchanges with the outside world, thereby heading towards growing interdependence and as a direct consequence, a restriction of their o w n autonomy. This is w h y it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish foreign policy from domestic policy and to account for the international behaviour of a state in purely strategic and military terms.

In this context the development of international co-operation with, in particular, a growing number of co-operation mechanisms in the form of international organizations, reflects a far-reaching change in international relations, whose conflictual nature is coming to be of secondary importance, and a tendency towards the organization of an international system characterized ever more deeply by interdependence and community of interest.

This view of international relations was already to be found in the functionalistic ideas of such theorists as David Mitrany, w h o saw the foundations of a n e w , more integrated international system in the demand for func-


tional, technical and economic co-operation,9

and it served as an ideological framework for the development and functioning of m a n y international organizations after the Second World W a r . It has also taken on increasing importance since the beginning of the 1960s in political-science studies on international relations, particularly those on international organizations,10 the settlement of conflicts,11

the formulation of foreign policy12 and certain other themes. In addition, it is central to m a n y analyses of North-South relations.13

A third conception of international relations, stemming more or less directly from a Marxist view of social relations, considers that the international system today is the direct expression of the functioning, development and contradictions of capitalism. In other words, the international system is held to be marked by the dynamic of capitalism, which, because of its contradictions, is a vehicle for imperialistic policy. This conception of international relations was formulated in the works of Rudolf Hilferding, Nicholas Bukharin, Rosa Luxemburg and Lenin in an attempt to account for colonial expansion at the end of the nineteenth century and the conflicts that arose a m o n g the imperialist powers. After decolonization, a great m a n y neo-Marxist

I schools of thought or those drawing on certain Marxist-Leninist theories m a d e attempts to demonstrate that imperialism was still the dominant factor in international relations and the reason for the underdevelopment of the Third World.

They suggested that capitalism, in order to survive, has to rely on the exploitation of a 'periphery' to which it can export its capital at higher profit rates and where it can find an outlet for part of its production and secure raw-material supply sources. This state of dependence of the 'periphery', maintained and reinforced by various means—transnational corporations, international organizations, aid, export of capital, self-colonization, the part played by Third World élites as relays of imperialism, etc.—is thus held to lead to a plundering of the Third World by the industrialized capitalist countries.14 This view of

international relations is today central to the demands for a n e w international economic order and to a significant school of thought on development problems that rejects an analysis of underdevelopment in terms of endogenous factors alone (cultural, political, social, etc.) and attempts to explain the phenomenon by the dependence of Third World societies and m o r e specifically by the incorporation of these societies into the world capitalist economy. T h e development of international relations, with, in particular, the division of the world into rich and poor countries, is thus alleged to be a logical corollary of the word capitalist system.15

T h e compartmentalization of the object of research that emerges from these three paradigms of international relations is, no doubt, not entirely insurmountable. It is clear that each of these conceptions of international relations is based on an important dimension of the phenomena studied and that by attempting to highlight that dimension it tends to overlook other no less important aspects. It can also be seen that the development of each paradigm is connected with the w a y in which international relations have themselves developed and that each conception of international relations tends to reflect certain trends and concerns of a particular period, neglecting quite naturally other factors that m a y have been brought to the fore previously. Thus for instance the second paradigm, by according somewhat less attention to conflict, gives precedence to the growth of interdependence and the development of non-state actors—significant phenomena of the 1960s that, in the prevailing climate of détente, seemed to be conducive to an abatement of East-West conflict. Hence , as is beginning to be realized today, the various paradigms m a y well be complementary rather than irrevocably antagonistic in that they show up the various facets of a single reality m a d e up, like any social reality, of both harmony and conflict, interdependence and dependence, balance and change.16

There is, however, a fundamental limitation to this complementarity of paradigms as


they can be seen today in that their taking into account this or that aspect of international relations is based on philosophies of history, on views of social relations and on ideological options that are difficult to reconcile. In other words, although one can hope to integrate within a c o m m o n model the various aspects of international relations channelled by the paradigms, that integration can be effected only by dissociating those aspects from the philosophical and ideological frameworks within which they appear. It stills remains to be seen h o w they can be integrated within a coherent structure that might one day become the paradigm around which the research could develop. This is no easy matter, however, for it is not a technical problem but one that involves the philosophical and ideological choices on which such a paradigmatic structure would be based.

Towards a scientific approach

In the last three decades a marked feature of the study of international relations, as of fields of social reality, has been the trend towards acquiring scientific status. Increasing numbers of scientists have been striving to adopt a scientific approach to the study of international p h e n o m e n a , and several debates have grown up over the criteria for such an approach.

T h e fallacious argument consisting in contrasting the so-called classic approaches relying to a great extent on intuition and qualitative analysis with the so-called scientific approaches based on the quantification of social phenomena and recourse to formalization is fortunately n o w a thing of the past.17 It has n o w been realized that neither quantification nor formalization can m a k e an approach scientific, for these are merely instruments that c o m e into play only once an object of study has been delimited, the problem areas identified and a conceptual framework and certain initial assumptions adopted. It is coming to be accepted that a scientific approach involves precise defini

tion of the field of study, a departure to some extent from notions of c o m m o n sense and the possibility of intersubjective control, rather than indiscriminate adherence to rigid procedures.18

T h e question remains whether there is not an essential difference in kind between the social sciences—whether nomothetic or idiographic—and what are k n o w n as the exact sciences. A s Jean Piaget clearly d e m o n strated:

having h u m a n beings in their countless activities as their object and being developed by human beings in their cognitive activities, the human sciences find themselves in the distinctive position of depending on h u m a n beings both as subject and as object.19

This epistomological situation means that it is m u c h more difficult to separate the epistemic subject from the egocentric subject. It is even doubtful—if one agrees with Jürgen Habermas that the social sciences derive from gnoseological interests (Erkenntnisinteresse) that are different from those upon which the natural sciences are based20—whether such a separation is really possible in the social sciences. This is w h y the scientist studying social reality must constantly be ideologically critical of his o w n approach and of his o w n situation in relation to its object, while recognizing the relative and partial nature of such an approach. Only then can the social sciences acquire a genuinely critical dimension, adopt a critical outlook on society and avoid being merely techniques for solving problems21 and instruments that, under cover of a value-free approach, tend to justify an established social order.22

This, however, has all too often been the case until n o w in the study of international relations. W h o l e areas of research have been determined largely by ideological options—of which the scientists themselves have been unaware—channelled by the choice of analytical tools or conceptual frameworks. A n example of this is systems analysis. For one thing it is all too often reduced to a mere


... í *

'The positivist illusion is firmly rooted in the collective mentality', Temple of Humanity, the Positivist Church of Brazil. Edimedia.

pseudo-scientific language that by a confused use of terms and concepts employed by the various exact sciences—system, structure, function, balance, homoeostasis, morphostasis, morphogenisis, feedback, etc.—is designed to confer scientific status and social recognition on the social scientists. M o r e seriously, systems analysis as it has usually been employed in the study of international relations tends to have a highly normative effect by placing a

high value on the status q u o , treating as normal anything that contributes to the internal h a r m o n y of the system by maintaining existing structures and as deviant and dysfunctional anything that upsets the balance of the system.23 T h u s , for example , John B u r ton considers that in studying international systems, systemic patterns of behaviour must be distinguished from non-systemic patterns, the former implying integrative processes and


the latter disintegrative processes based on a differentiation of power. 2 4

T o take another example, the fact of bringing into play—as is increasingly done today —the concept of interdependence, which is indeed the basis of one of the paradigms of contemporary research on international relations, also tends to introduce implicit ideological choices into the analysis. Emphasis on the growth of interdependence and its depiction as a symmetrical situation (the mutual dependence of social actors) to obscure the conflictual aspect of international relations and the stratification of the international system. This type of attitude is very clearly to be seen in m a n y analyses of North-South relations that underscore the bonds of interdependence between industrialized and Third World countries, ignoring the asymmetrical nature of that interdependence and the far-reaching clashes of interest between the two groups of countries, as are attested to by the breakdown of the negotiations to define in concrete terms the structure of a n e w international economic order. The report of the independent commission chaired by Willy Brandt provides a good illustration of this. T h e report endeavours to show that the conflict between the North and the South can be resolved only if there is a recognition, both in the North and in the South, of interdependence reflecting a profound community of interests. B y proclaiming that the development of the North necessarily involves the development of the South, and vice versa, and that that interdependence should be the basis for a n e w international economic order founded on a community of interests, the Brandt report obscures the fact that such interdependence is asymmetrical and supports a plan for restructuring the world economy designed merely to reinforce the Third World countries' incorporation into a world economic system in which their situation is one of dependence.

A s can be seen, ideological criticism is essential, both in the study of international relations and in that of other sectors of social reality. It does, however, if it is considered

merely a technique, entail the danger of a return to the positivism its function is to combat, by giving the illusion of an approach that has been thoroughly purged of all ideological contamination. This danger is all the greater in that the positivist illusion is firmly rooted in the collective mentality, a fact that moreover enables some scientists to speak of scientific and ideology-free analysis for the purpose of deliberately concealing their ideological commitment and political options.

A good example of this attitude is to be found in the approach adopted by the Club of R o m e , which is a grouping of about a hundred leading figures—company directors, academics, etc.—and has set itself the aim of shedding light on the complex problems of the world today and proposing n e w courses for action so that the world m a y be saved from the dangers threatening it.25 The Club of R o m e maintains that it has 'no ideological or political prejudice'.26 It has moreover attempted to authenticate its analysis of the contemporary world by several reports drawn up by research-teams, sometimes using mathematical analysis and computers.27 The stated aim is thus to replace the myth of growth, which lies at the heart of the model for the development of our societies and threatens to lead them to their downfall, by a scientific, clear-sighted view of the world today and its problems.'However, as w e have shown elsewhere,2 8 the picture that emerges from all the reports presented at the Club of R o m e and sanctioned by it and from the publications and declarations m a d e by the Chairman of the group, the Italian Aurelio Peccei, remains a fanciful hypothesis and surreptitiously introduces a whole set of political options which it tries to pass off simply as self-evident conclusions drawn from lucid, scientific analysis. While proclaiming that it speaks on behalf of mankind, and more specifically as the defender of the survival of the h u m a n race, the Club of R o m e is trying, by means of a technocratic ideology, to impose on us a planned world society whose leadership takes as its model the transnational corporation.


*"** " ^ . » i / " • < • . . ' • * > i a r - i ^ « - ' ; W

Le Père Ubu, the central character of the satirical plays of Alfred Jarry (1873-1907), exploring modern absurdity. Lithography by the author. Snark.


The nature and limitations of theory

In their bid for scientific status and social recognition, the various nomothetic social' sciences—sociology, political science, economics, etc.—set themselves in their study of international relations the goal of developing an explanatory theory of an abstract, general and timeless nature. Their approach was based on a positivistic epistemology modelling the social sciences on the natural sciences.

T h e aim was to single out a number of recurrent themes from all the various events coming within the scope of international relations and to formulate the explanatory models or laws governing the behaviour of those involved in international relations. In other words it meant developing explanatory models composed of a n u m b e r of variables and putting these models to the test by using history as a laboratory, either by comparing the models to the past record of international relations or by endeavouring to apply them to the present time, or again by making forecasts—which would in due course be tested—of the future pattern of international relations. T h e collection of statistics in an attempt to find correlations in the study of international conflicts29 and the construction of models in sectors like foreign policy decision-making30 are altogether representative of approaches directed at this type of objective.

T h e fact must be faced today that this goal is far from being attained and that the quest for a general, timeless explanatory theory applicable regardless of w h o is applying it or where and w h e n it is applied has brought research to a dead end.

A n y explanatory model involves a choice, a selection from a m o n g the huge range of variables relating to a set of p h e n o m ena. It means singling out from the c o m plexities of real situations those factors that are significant and leaving aside those that are not. In addition, precise relations must be established between the variables selected. T h e fact is that in the contemporary study of

international relations very little satisfactory progress has been m a d e towards any such process of selection and ordering. Most of the 'explanatory models' that have been developed are in fact merely taxonomies or conceptual frameworks pointing up a set of variables that m a y have a bearing on the p h e n o m e n a and processes studied, without there being really any selection and arrangement of the kind needed in developing an explanatory model .

T o take just one example, w h e n G r a h a m Allison attempts to shed light on the processes of foreign-policy decision-making, he places emphasis, in each of the three paradigms he proposes (rational, organizational, bureaucratic), on a number of variables that m a y have a determining role in decision-making but does not establish any precise relationships between these variables and confines himself m o r e to a description of the process governing the formulation of a particular foreign policy (that which was behind the C u b a n missile crisis in 1962).31 W h a t is m o r e , he does not really tell us h o w to integrate the three different interpretations he makes of the decision-making process in terms of the three paradigms he presents. Allison's contribution is therefore descriptive and taxonomic.

O n e might of course be tempted to bypass this difficulty in incorporating the various potential explanatory variables into a model by resorting to a reductionistic approach basing the explanation on a single factor.32 But it has been amply d e m o n strated that such an approach is unable to explain the multidimensional character of social p h e n o m e n a and their m a n y and varied causes.

T h e current block to finding an explanatory theory of international relations, without any progress in fact having been m a d e beyond the taxonomic stage, can but lead scientists to become m o r e fully aware of the possibilities and limitations to which the formulation of a theory is subject. In opting for a general approach, the representatives of the n o m o thetic social sciences strove to devise too


timeless a theory, w h o s e only link with history would c o m e from the scientist's neutral action in a particular experimental field. T h e y did not realize however that it is not possible to understand international relations without incorporating the dynamic of history into the explanatory models themselves. E v e n if the establishing of a set of potential explanatory variables m a y be valid in general terms and is hence not linked to a specific situation, it is only by interpreting a given set of historical circumstances that the scientist can and must select and arrange those variables. In other words , progress beyond the taxo-nomic stage can be m a d e only by taking into consideration a specific historical dynamic, by analysing a given set of historical circumstances.

N o doubt there are explanatory factors c o m m o n to latter-day conflicts like the cold war or the Viet N a m W a r and to the major conflicts of European history in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Explanatory models of these various conflicts cannot be constructed, however , without taking into account the dynamic and the forces at w o r k in the international system during the period in question. Furthermore, one cannot set out to infer laws governing the functioning and balance of international systems merely from a comparison of the polarity of the contemporary system with that of the European system in the nineteenth century and without

taking into consideration the other basic structural characteristics of each of these two systems (in particular stratification and the degree of ideological and cultural h o m o g e n eity) and the dynamic of their development.3 3

It is n o doubt possible to conceive of spheres of generalization other than that of highlighting potential explanatory variables. B y elaborating various explanatory models concerning specific historical situations, scientists m a y reasonably expect to discern certain trends evolving as laws34 and certain explanatory structures c o m m o n to different p h e n o m e n a . 3 5

Trying to find a general theory in the study of international relations should not, however , m e a n negating the cultural dimension of international relations, as has unfortunately too often the case in the past.36 It is not by generalizing from the study of a particular society—particularly the United States of A m e r i c a in the case under discussion—in other words by refusing to consider cultural diversity, that the theory of international relations can acquire a genuinely transcultural, transsocietal and transnational dimension consistent with the requirements of anomothetic approach. Cultural diversity, as indeed the dynamic of history, must be central to the social sciences' proposed theory for the study of international relations.


Notes

1. See for example Hoffman (ed.), I960, pp. 2-3. See also Taylor (ed.), 1978, p. 1.

2. This is the characteristic emphasized by R a y m o n d Aron (1962) to identify the specific nature of international relations.

3. O n e might in that case speculate whether it would not be preferable to see international relations as the expression—at a given m o m e n t in history—of the development of a world system—which would thus become the object of study.

See, for example, Immanuel Wallerstein's works in which he sets out to develop a theory of world systems, in particular The Capitalist World Economy, 1979. Thus the possible disappearance of state entities would not m a k e the object


studied a dead letter, being just one stage in the evolution of a social system. While not denying the danger of a reductionistic approach seeing all international relations merely in terms of state entities, and therefore while acknowledging the merits of a systems approach of this kind (see m y work Théorie des systèmes et relations internationales, 1977), I do not think it possible—without resorting to another form of reductionism—to overlook the fact that the state is a structuring element in international affairs.

4. See Bedjaoui, 1979, on the subject.

5. See Morin's comments in Science avec conscience (1982, p. 273).

6. See in this connection the comments by McGranahan (1974).

7. O n the paradigm concept, see K u h n , 1972.

8. See, for example, Morgenthau, 1955.

9. See Mitrany, 1946.

10. See Haas, 1964.

11. See Burton, 1969.

12. See Morse, 1969.

13. See, for example, the Brandt Commission report, 1980.

14. See the work by Jalée, 1973. O n the various theories of imperialism, see Braillard and de Sénarclens, 1981.

15. See, for example, Wallerstein, 1974.

16. See in this connection the highly pertinent comments by

Ralph Dahrendorf (1967, p. 486), w h o stresses the necessary complementarity of the co-operative and conflictual models in the study of society.

17. O n this fallacious argument, Knorr and Rosenau, 1969, m a y be consulted.

18. See on this point m y Théorie des relations internationales, 1977, pp. 21-2.

19. cf. Piaget, 1970, p. 45.

20. See Habermas, 1976.

21. Cox speaks of 'problem-solving theories'. See his study 'Social Forces, States and World

. Orders . . .', 1981, p. 129.

22. See Himmelstrand's comments (1982, p. 542). It m a y also be noted that in the development of peace research in Europe over the past twenty years there has been, at the instigation of Johan Galtung in particular, an attempt to adopt a genuine critical attitude, which has strongly influenced the study of international conflicts.

23. See m y work Théorie des systèmes . . ., op. cit., pp. 99-101. This conservative trend is not, however, in m y view inherent in the system concept itself.

24. See Burton, 1968, Chapters VI and VII.

25. See Peccei, 1976, pp. 128-9.

26. See Peccei, 1975, p. 75.

27. See, in particular, M e a d o w s et al., 1972; Mesarovic and Pestel, 1974.

28. See m y work, L'imposture du Club de Rome, 1982.

29. See, for example, Singer and Small, 1962.

30. See Snyder, Brück and Sapin (eds.), 1962; Rosenau, 1971.

31. See Allison, 1971.

32. For example, the sociology of conflicts as seen by Gaston Bouthoul, w h o , in the final analysis, reduces conflictual interaction to population dynamics (1970).

33. This is why the various analyses m a d e until now of the stability of international systems seen from the standpoint of their polarity are so unconvincing. See for example: Deutsch and Singer, 1964; Waltz, 1964; Haas, 1970.

34. O n e of the attendant dangers in trying to ascertain such laws lies in adopting a teleological approach whereby, it is thought, an evolving process can be explained and justified by its outcome, as has often been done by the advocates of functionalistic analysis.

35. See on this subject the highly pertinent comments by Boudon and Bourricaud in their Dictionnaire critique de la sociologie, 1982, pp. 261-7.

36. See Preiswerk's comments in 'La place des relations interculturelles . . .', 1975. The study of foreign policy is a field that illustrates particularly well this negation of the cultural specificity of the societies constituting the international system. See on this subject Korany's comments (1974).


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of Decision. Explaining the Cuban Missile Crisis. Boston, Mass. , Little Brown .

A R O N , R . 1962. Paix et guerre entre les nations. Paris, Calmann-Lévy.

B E D J A O U I , M . 1979. Pour un

nouvel ordre économique international. Paris, Unesco.

B O U D O N , R.; BOURRICAUD, F.

Dictionnaire critique de la sociologie. 1982. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France.

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L'infanticide différé. Paris, Hachette.

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des systèmes et relations internationales. Brussels, Bruylant.

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P. D E . 1981. L'impérialisme. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France. (Que sais-je? N o . 1816.)

B R A N D T COMMISSION. 1980.

Nord-Sud? Un programme de survie. Paris, Gallimard.

B U R T O N , J. 1968. Systems,

States, Diplomacy and Rules. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press.

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C o x , R . 1981. Social Forces, States and World Orders: Beyond International Relations Theory. Millennium, Vol. 10.

D A H R E N D O R F , R . 1967. Out of

Utopia. Toward a Reorientation of Sociological Analysis. In: N . J. Demerath III and R . A . Peterson (eds.) Systems, Change and Conflict. A Reader on Contemporary Sociological Theory and the Debate over Functionalism. N e w York, Free Press.

DEUTSCH, K . ; SINGER, J. D .

1964. Multipolar Power Systems and International Stability. World Politics, Vol. 16, pp. 390-406.

H A A S , E . B . 1964. Beyond the

Nation-State. Functionalism and International Organization. Stanford, Calif., Stanford University Press.

H A A S , M . 1970. International

Subsystem: Stability and Polarity. American Political Science Review, Vol. 64, pp. 98-123.

H A B E R M A S , J. 1976.

Connaissance et intérêt. Paris, Gallimard.

HIMMELSTRAND, U . 1982.

Ideology, Science and Policy Impact: Thought on the Task and Challenges of the Social Sciences. International Social Science Journal, Vol. X X X I V , No. 3. 1982.

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Contemporary Theory in International Relations. Englewood Cliffs, N . J . , Prentice-Hall.

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Policy Models and Their Empirical Relevance to Third-World Actors: A Critique and an Alternative. International Social Science Journal, Vol. X X V I , N o . 1, pp. 70-94.

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The institutionalization of sociology in France: its social and political significance

Edmund Burke III

Introduction:

structures, discourses, crises

H o w do disciplines b e c o m e established, impose their authority and decline? These questions are central to the sociology of knowledge, and have renewed relevance today. Perhaps because our o w n time is a m o m e n t of' intellectual openness and epis-temological self-consciousness, in which the boundaries between disciplines are blurred and the governing paradigms are being called into question, concerns about the origins of the modern social sciences and their impact upon society are at the centre of intellectual discussion. In this m o m e n t of openness, the basic presuppositions of social thought stand revealed with special clarity, and it is possible to trace the formation and crystallization of disciplines, and the discourses to which they have given rise.1

Through an examination of the development of the discipline of sociology in France in the period 1880-1925 this article seeks to shed light on some of the more general processes at work in the institutionalization of the social sciences, and its social and political

consequences. M y argument is that the institutionalization of a n e w discipline is not simply the result of strong ideas, strong personalities and money—to take a prevailing notion—but that it must be situated in its particular political and intellectual context. T h e results of reconstructing the origins of disciplines and schools of thought can often be surprising, as a consideration of the case of the Durkheim school in France in the period

1880-1914 m a k e s clear. T h e autonomous de

velopment of colonial sociology in France in the same period points to a de facto division of labour within the field, and constitutes our second topic of discussion. Here I shall be particularly concerned with tracing the emergence of the field of the sociology of Islam. A n insignificant back eddy in the onrushing stream of Pari

sian science, the sociology of Islam was none the less tied into metropolitan politics in ways that had a direct bearing upon the nature of its production. Ideologically saturated but intellectually flabby, the discourse of the sociology of Islam was none the less politically powerful. H o w authoritative discourses are generated, h o w they impose themselves, and with what effect are all subjects that can be examined through the study of this case.

Edmund Burke III is professor of history and director of the Comparative and International Studies research activity at the University of California, Santa Cruz. H e is the author of Prelude to Protectorate in Morocco: Patterns of Protest and Resistance (1977) and (co-editor with Ira Lapidus) Islam and Social Movements (in press).

644 Edmund Burke III

Finally, through the exploration of the role of controversies in the life of disciplines, I shall examine the crisis of authority to which all disciplines are subject, arguing that such crises are integral to the development of disciplines, and are the vehicle by which n e w views are imposed or resisted by establishments. T h e struggle for a scientific paradigm is integral to this operation—competition for-epistemological domains and objects of study are inseparable from the advance of science. At the core of the institutionalization of the social sciences, as w e shall see, is the interrelation of ideological, scientific, political and rational processes. T h e problem of the authority of scientific pronouncements is thereby posed: h o w is this authority created, imposed and institutionalized? F r o m the work of Michel Foucault and Pierre Bourdieu w e k n o w that science arises not from the naivety of the m o m e n t of critical insight, but in a given social and intellectual conjuncture.2

All knowledge is therefore contingent. This raises some important questions about the sociology of knowledge and the institutionalization of the social sciences which will be dealt with in a brief conclusion.

Institutionalization: the case of sociology in France

Recent studies of the origins of the modern social science disciplines have considerably altered our sense of the ways in which they became institutionalized. Previously the study of the history of ideas had focused upon the intellectual origins of contemporary social science thought, stressing the influences of successive generations of thinkers upon one another, and the importance of intellectual innovation.3 T h e implicit or openly avowed aim of this approach was to valorize one's o w n intellectual genealogy by connecting it to a prestigious chain of authorities, while simultaneously delegitimizing that of one's adversaries by demonstrating the relative weakness of their intellectual tradition.

M o r e recently, scholars have become

dissatisfied with the explanatory value of this approach, at the same time as they have become suspicious of the assertion of authority it necessarily involves. T h e emergence of the disciplines has been seen not as the inevitable triumph of stronger ideas over weaker ones (as was implied by the history of ideas approach), but as a multi-faceted struggle for intellectual and political advantage between different groups and factions. The sociology of knowledge has thus m o v e d towards a m o r e sociological understanding of the question.

The establishment of the Durkhèim school in France (1880-1914) is one of the best studied cases of institutionalization in the literature on the sociology of knowledge. A s a result, w e k n o w more about the exact circumstances in which Durkheim and his followers were able successfully to establish the discipline of sociology in France than w e do about any other case in the history of the social sciences.4 Precisely because it has been studied in such detail, the establishment of the Durkheim school is an especially useful one to consider in coming to some understanding of h o w disciplines are formed.

T h e central discipline in the French university system in the nineteenth century was philosophy. It attracted the best and most ambitious students, awarded the most degrees, and by virtue of its control of the baccalauréat and agrégation examinations, exercised its dominance over the educational system. Towards the end of the century it entered a period of prolonged intellectual crisis as a consequence of a fatal attraction of spiritualism. This m o m e n t of crisis provided the opportunity for the emergence of n e w disciplines. U n d e r the influence of positivism, Kantianism and rationalism (distinct minority tendencies at the time), the intellectual con-^ ditions were created for the launching of proposals for the reorganization of the teaching of philosophy in the university which stood some chance of success. The D u r k -heimian enterprise, it has been suggested, can best be seen as one of the major efforts to resolve the crisis of philosophy in the univer-

The institutionalization of sociology in France 645

Émile Durkheim (1858-1917), played a leading role in the institutionalization of sociology in France; portrait from Leçons de sociologie (reproduced with permission from Presses Universitaires de France).

sity by changing the intellectual content of the p r o g r a m m e of study, as well as replacing the spiritualists in the teaching corps with n e w professors having a scientific and positivist approach.5 T h e importance of crises in the authority of intellectual fields in the emergence of n e w disciplines is a subject w e will return to at the end of this essay. For the m o m e n t it is sufficient to note the intellectual context of the development of sociology in France.

O n e of the first to study the emergence of the social sciences in m o d e r n France was Terry N . Clark, whose book and articles focused upon the context and strategies e m ployed by the different contending groups in

the French A c a d e m y . H o w can the institutionalization of sociology in the French university system be explained? Clark asks. W h y only in its Durkheimian version? Clark notes that at the end of the nineteenth century four schools of sociology existed in France, yet only one of them, the D u r k -heimians, were able to establish themselves successfully in the university. T h e four schools were: (a) the several groups of followers of L e Play, (b) the social statisticians Bertillon and Levasseur and their associates, most of w h o m were employed in the government; (c) the somewhat anomalous group gathered around R e n é W o r m s , and his journal, Revue internationale de sociologie and Gabriel Tarde; and (d) the followers of D u r k h e i m .

Clark's approach focuses upon the institutional structures and emphasizes an interactive perspective. 'For most n e w fields to develop,' he argues, 'three fundamental elements are essential: good ideas to build on, talented individuals, and adequate institutional support.'6 Clark notes that the Durkheimians were able to succeed because they were recruited from the most prestigous academic backgrounds, were-more coherently organized than their rivals, were able to impose their definition of the field within the university (via Durkheim's The Rules of Sociological Method,1 and his definition of a 'social fact'), and because they enjoyed the patronage of the president of the Sorbonne, Louis Liard. Rival groups, he notes, were' less favourably placed and less adroit in asserting their o w n claims to predominance. Through their writings, and still m o r e through the review, Année sociologique, the Durkheimians had the m e a n s to impose their authority and definitions of the field. Clark argues that Durkheim's highly publicized debates with rivals, notably Gabriel Tarde and Georges Sorel enabled him to clarify the boundaries of the field, and to draw the attention of the public to his school.

B y de-emphasizing Durkheim's ideas and focusing upon the strategies he employed to establish the n e w discipline, Clark provided a


n e w perspective on the subject. Informative as it is, however, Clark's approach has its limits. Thus , for example, it cannot explain the reception of Durkheim's ideas in France, nor the sociological conditions that governed their institutionalization. Indeed, upon reflection, Clark's schema stops asking questions just at the point it should begin to do so. His lack of close attention to the intellectual and political context in which the field of sociology developed makes his conclusions unsatisfactorily vague, if not wrong. However , thanks to the work of the Groupe d'Études D u r k -heimiennes, it is possible to c o m e a lot closer to understanding precisely this aspect of the question.8 A s a result, w e can attain a m o r e satisfactory and complete understanding of the general process by which the social sciences have been institutionalized.

In order fully to understand the D u r k -heim strategy, it is necessary to situate sociology in the intellectual field of its day, as well as to the institutional setting in which it developed. According to Victor Karady, a leading specialist, despite the unquestioned prestige and charisma of Durkheim and the Durkheimian quasi-monopoly of sociology positions in the French university system, their institutional weakness is clear. Karady m a k e s a useful distinction between intellectual and institutional prestige. H e argues that despite the unquestioned intellectual authority of Durkheim and the recognized social utility of the field, major institutional weaknesses seriously impeded the development of the Durkheim school within the university. Durkheimian sociology was never able to establish its institutional autonomy from philosophy, could not find a job market for its graduates, and had degree programmes that led nowhere. Also, the fact that sociology developed in the Faculty of Letters, rather than in the Faculty of L a w , meant that it had greater difficulty in establishing itself, since the social science fields that developed in the law faculty were better able to assure their autonomy and prestige. But it also benefited from the higher intellectual standing of the classic disciplines in letters, particularly phil

osophy. In s u m m a r y , from the perspective of the dominant system of values of the university, the requirements for advancing in a career, and the hierarchy of the disciplines in the French academic world, the Durkheim school achieved at best only a partial success.

Finally, to round out the discussion, it is important to consider the political and social significance of sociology within the political field of fin de siècle French society. T h e central role of the social sciences in the period was to aid in the elaboration of the republican ideology of the embattled Third Republic. The contribution of the Durkheimians was to inculcate correct ideas facilitating the life in c o m m o n of individuals and classes. Thus at the close of his first year at Bordeaux, Durkheim concluded his class on the social sciences with a definition of the social role of sociology. According to him, since the social problem resulted from the weakening of the spirit of the collectivity, it was necessary to reinstil a consciousness of the organic unity of society:

Well, gentlemen, I believe that sociology is more capable than any other science of restoring these ideas. It is sociology which will make the individual understand what society is, as it will complete him, and [show him] h o w small he is [when] reduced to his own power. Sociology will teach him that he is not an empire in the midst of another empire, but the organ of an organism. It will show him h o w good it is to carry out conscientiously his role as organ.9

B y virtue of its republicanism, anti-clericalism, Dreyfusard convictions, and non-Marxist concern with the social question, Durkheimian sociology was politically near the centre of the political field of pre-war French society. The Catholicism and internationalism of its chief rivals—the L e Playists and the followers of R e n é Worms—placed them in a less-favourable position, and helped seal their fate.

T h e political centrality of sociology in the liberal effort to reform society was not limited to France. Neither was the ambiguous relationship to the intellectual and political legacy of Karl M a r x . T h e formation of the


modern social science disciplines resulted in the emergence of separate specialized studies of different aspects of h u m a n existence. T h e field of sociology split off from political economy in the English-speaking world, or from philosophy in France, and elected as its domain the study of social relations. Its formation, w e can n o w see, was directly connected to the ripening of the 'social question' in nineteenth-century Europe—the emergence of an increasingly militant working class, and the challenge to bourgeois order produced by the breakdown of social structures. T h e work of Ferdinand Tönnies, M a x W e b e r , Henry Maine, Auguste C o m t e , Emile Durkheim, Robert Redfield and Talcott Parsons all in various ways can be perceived as responses to the dangers posed by social anomie arising from the Industrial Revolution, and as so m a n y dialogues with the ghost of Marx . Thus , in some ways, the development of Western sociology can be seen as an attempt to deal with the social disorder arising from the collapse of c o m munity by offering a theory of social order. The basic postulates of the emerging discipline of sociology considered social relations as causal in their o w n right, apart from the political or economic context.10

The sociology of Islam: a discourse of domination

The definition of the field of sociology in France excluded for all practical purposes the study of colonial societies. This was left to the odd amalgam of gifted amateurs, enlightened colonial officials and (somewhat later) professional ethnologists whose writings taken together comprise the corpus of what was then called colonial sociology. Despite the extremely broad coverage of subjects in Année sociologique, Durkheim showed little interest in colonial societies, while Marcel Mauss and his other principal collaborators were only slightly m o r e attracted by colonial subject-matter. There seems little doubt that

the lack of prestige of the study of colonial subjects in France played an important part in the establishment of this de facto division of labour. But the resolutely metropolitan intellectual orientation of the Durkheim group had perhaps even more to do with it: in contrast to the- emerging anthropological profession in the English-speaking world, with its celebration of field-work, the Durkheimians were against such participant observation and in favour of utilizing printed sources.11 Thus it was that sociology as an academic discipline in France emerged bifurcated, with the high-prestige Durkheimians focusing on the dilemmas of modern society, while the sociology of the colonies was left to ethnologists.

O n e of the most important branches of French colonial sociology was the sociology of Islam. A n exploration of its several dimensions can help us to understand not only the process of institutionalization, but also the political and social context of ideas, and their consequences in policy. T h e most important aspect of the sociology of Islam, as w e shall see, was less its intellectual importance or its institutional significance in France, than the political potency of its discourse.

The French tradition of the empirical study of Muslim societies began in 1798 with the Napoleonic expedition to Egypt. T h e central paradigms of the tradition were laid d o w n in the volumes of the Description de l'Egypte (23 vols., Paris, 1809-23), and developed subsequently in Algeria (1830-70) and Morocco (1900-30). T h e major phases of its development correspond to the shifting patterns of French colonialism. B y the outbreak of the Algerian war in 1954, it had become a mummified version of its former self, and in its evident inability to explain the outbreak of the war, or its raison d'être, collapsed under its o w n weight. S o m e h o w a tradition that had begun with aspirations of bringing the fruits of the French Revolution to the lands of Islam had become an apologist for empire, a disseminator of racist stereotypes, and a producer of irrelevant folklore. It is no accident that the life-span of this intellectual tradition m a y be demarcated by the beginnings of


French imperialism in the Middle East, and its bloody and convulsive end.

If w e examine the French tradition of the sociology of Islam in historical perspective, it can be seen to consist of three broad strands, the complex patterning of whose interactions over a century and a half constituted the field.12 T h e Algerian experience is in m a n y ways paradigmatic for what was to come later. These were the traditions of the Arab B u reaux, the civilian amateurs, and the academics. Attached to real social forces with real interests and perceptions of the society, these three groups are of primary importance in understanding not only the unfolding of the intellectual field, but also m u c h of the dynamics of French colonial politics.

T h e most important of the three as they developed in colonial Algeria was the military tradition of native-affairs officers embodied in the Arab Bureaux. F r o m these 'Robinsons galonnés', as Jacques Berque has called them, came a major share of the most important works on Algerian society, customs and religion.13 T h e officers were especially concerned with uncovering the structures of tribal society, no less than its 'moral topography' and material culture. T h e second major strand of French sociology of Islam was the work of civilian amateurs and explorers, whose writings were coloured by their direct interest in the acquisition of land, and the well-being of settler society. Their intellectual contribution to the field was the weakest of the three. If that contribution is assessed in political terms, however, it emerges as fundamental.

The intensification after 1871 of the debate in colonial Algeria between settler

, interests and the chief protectors of the Muslim populations, the Arab Bureaux, led to the growing politicization of French ethnography. F r o m a quasi-autonomous intellectual by-product of the Arab Bureaux, the ethnography of Algeria became increasingly dominated by the discourse of French colonial politics. N o longer a serious threat, Muslims did not have to be taken seriously.

There was thus little incentive to study them. Between 1871 and 1919 the stereotypes of the colonial vulgate crystallized into a racialist image of Algerian society.14 Though elements of this view can be found in earlier writings, what is new about the post-1871 version is its comprehensive character, and the effort to forge a systematic policy based upon them. I shall have more to say about the development of the discourse of the sociology of Islam further on in this essay.

French academics, the third strand of the sociology of Islam, emerged as a distinct group only after 1871, in response to the expansion of French education and the development of the social sciences in their modern forms. The individual w h o more than any other endowed the academic study of Algerian society with prestige and legitimacy was Emile Masqueray. His Formation des cités chez les populations sédentaires de l'Algérie appeared in 1886.15 A graduate of the prestigious École Normale Supérieure, Masqueray was at the centre of the intellectual currents of his time, rather than on the fringes as were the other French Algerian academics. Although he did m u c h to establish the École d'Alger as a respectable provincial institution, and might have been the Durkheim of the sociology of Islam (he was not lacking in ambition: his thesis was a frontal attack on the work of Fustel de Coulanges, the leading historian of his time), he was finally unable to transcend the crippling effects of the politicization of colonial sociology, and had no disciples.

The emergence of a group of French academics interested in the study of Algerian society comes into sharp focus with the establishment of the École d'Alger, in particular with the group that gathered around René Basset at the end of the century. A manifestation of m a n y of the same forces that had led to the transformation of French higher education at the end of the nineteenth century (including the crystallization . of the Année sociologique group which gathered around Durkheim) , the École d'Alger group possessed considerable ambitions. In E d m o n d

The'institutionalization of sociology in France 649

Doutée, they had an important intellectual leader, whose sociology was largely self-taught, but w h o was able to attach himself through some artful manoeuvring to the D u r -kheimians.16 T h e intellectual production of the École d'Alger group focused upon the study of folklore, popular religion, and dialectology—that is to say, subjects of lesser interest and intellectual ambition. It was also highly politicized, exacerbated especially by the atmosphere of chauvinism which dominated the period that led to the Morocco Crisis of 1905. O n the eve of its professional-ization, then, the sociology of Islam (and of Algerian society) had generated a discourse that was profoundly imbued with and shaped by the fact of the French colonial presence. H o w and w h y did this c o m e to be the case, and with what effect? Here a brief detour seems in order.

T h e study of Islamic subjects in France was dominated by the discipline of orientalism, an intellectual tradition grounded in the discipline of philology and concerned with the study of classical texts produced by Asian peoples as exemplary models of the different aspects of their civilizations. In its Islamic studies variant (which here includes what I a m calling the sociology of Islam), Orientalism claimed to speak in an authoritative voice about Islamic civilization based on a knowledge of the relevant languages. Like other Asian civilizations, Islamic civilization was said to be defined by s o m e essential traits, which the orientalist, by virtue of his training was best placed to discern. The highly interested (not to say racialist) character of m u c h of orientalist production has been pointed out by numerous authors, myself included.17

T h e critics of orientalism have d e m o n strated the numerous ways in which it was characterized by distortions, misrepresentations, and errors in the portrait it painted of Islamic societies. But it has taken the publication of E d w a r d Said's remarkable Orientalism18 to demonstrate the ways in which orientalism constitutes a discourse in the Foucaultian sense of the term.19 Said's contri

bution is to show h o w the development of the discourse of orientalism was shaped by the particular context and auspices under which the field developed.

Orientalism is thus a timely effort at the deconstruction of an entire intellectual tradition, and its political and cultural correlates: imperialist domination and the literary and artistic image of the exotic East. Through a detailed study of the work of some of the major orientalists of the period (chiefly French and British)—Silvestre de Sacy, Ernest R e n a n , E d w a r d Lane , Louis Massignon, and1

H . A . R . Gibb—Said explores the c o m m o n assumptions and attributes of the practice of orientalism. His chief concern is with orientalism as a discourse of power, which by a series of calculated intellectual moves was able to assert the dominance of the West over Eastern peoples. B y drawing attention to the ways in which orientalism represents its subjects, through figures of speech, rhetorical flourishes, and narrative devices, as well as to the audiences for w h o m orientalist production was intended. Said shows the pervasiveness of the orientalist version of the history of Asians. Said argues that orientalism creates not only knowledge, but in a sense the very reality it claims to describe. B y reducing Islamic civilization to a few key texts that purport to explain everything that needs to be k n o w n about it, rather than confronting the universe of alternative texts not selected, or the manifold complexities of actual existing Muslim societies, the orientalist asserts his authority over them: that which can be k n o w n , can be controlled. T h e connections that bound orientalism to imperialism were never very far from sight.

Crises in authority

All disciplines in some sense generate a dominant discourse, and are outgrowths of particular intellectual contexts. All as well are located within the political field of their time. W h a t the example of the sociology of Islam makes clear in a particularly dramatic way is


'Orientalism creates not only knowledge, but in a sense the very reality it claims to decry.' A n Orientalist painter at work in El-Kantara, Aurès region, Algeria, at the turn of the century. Roger vioiiet.

that discourses are powerfully moulded by these contextual factors, often in ways quite unforeseen. Both the authority of dominant schools (like the Durkhe im school, or the École d'Alger), and their political potency in the societies in which they existed derive from these considerations. W h a t w e c o m e to understand as a result of these examples is the degree to which and the manner in which all knowledge is knowledge for, that is connected to, power and its exercise. But, w e m a y ask, are social science discourses (as Said uses the term) iron cages that irrevocably trap the minds of their practitioners, orienting thoughts and feelings without alternative, even as they generate authoritative versions of their object.of study? H o w can w e under

stand the relationship between the institutionalization of the social science disciplines, the consequences (both political and intellectual) of the discourses they generate, and the fact of change? A consideration of the role of crises in the authority of disciplines in their fates and that of the discourses. to which they have given rise can illuminate this question.

A curiosity of the word 'discourse' not remarked by either Foucault or Said, is that in its root meaning, it implies a shuttling back and forth between subject and object, interrogator and interrogated. A discourse, then, refers less to an assertion of power and authority, than to a m o r e complex and dialectical relationship. Such an observation


Algerian Women in Their Quarters, oil painting by Eugène Delacroix (1798-1863), Louvre M u s e u m . Buiioz.

prompts a reassessment of h o w the discourse of orientalism w a s constructed, but also of the ways in which discourses and disciplines c o m e into existence. Finally, it suggests a reconsideration of the role of crises of authority in the production and reproduction of knowledge.

Is orientalism the authoritative representation of Asian realities as part of a discourse of power and domination? Such a view, while coveying a certain truth, places the emphasis upon what orientalism as a discourse does, rather than on the process by which it has emerged, and reifies rather than explains. B . S. C o h e n , in a forthcoming work, studies the emergence of the tradition of British orientalism in India.20 A crucial example

from this unpublished study brings the question of the nature of the discipline into high relief: it is the compilation of the first Sanskrit-English dictionary. W h a t C o h e n has discovered is the extent to which the dictionary was not just a manifestation of British power to n a m e and control the very language of India, but a m u c h m o r e complex and mediated joint product in which both British orientalists and Indian pundits were active. T h e words included in the dictionary, no less than those discarded, and the meanings attached to them were the result of discussion and debate. M u c h the same w a s the case of the mapping of the boundaries of the Indian languages—again the result is far from a straightforward application of power . T h e


discourse thus generated was reflective of the interests of the informants no less than of the imperial designs of the colonial overlord. If there is a textualism of the orientalist, w e are reminded, there is also the textualism of the guardians of the sacred scriptures. Each makes use of the other; each serves and is served in the elaboration of the resultant product.

T h e image of a discourse as a mere expression of authority and power is false in a second respect which a brief consideration of the so-called crisis of orientalism makes clear. T h e intellectual origins of nationalism in m a n y Asian and Islamic countries have been carefully studied. O n e finding, not generally m a d e in this context, is the w a y in which the writings of orientalists could and did serve as authorizing and legitimizing sources of the emerging nationalist counter-discourse. These philo-orientals, as they m a y be called, played a crucial role, for example, in the intellectual roots of Indian nationalism. David K o p f (among others) has shown h o w the work of E . L . Jones and his collaborators were seized upon by some of the earliest nationalists ( R a m m o h u n R o y a m o n g others) to validate the greatness of the past of Indian civilization, and the hope of its resurrection in the present.21 Similar observations have been m a d e for nationalism in Turkey, Egypt and Iran, where once again the writings of the philo-orientals (men like Leon Cahun, W . S. Blunt, and Arthur de Gobineau) played an important role in providing inspiration and legitimation for the first generation of cultural nationalists.22 M u c h the same uneasy relationship between nationalists and revisionist Western historians can be observed in the development of the Algerian nationalist counter-version of the colonial period of Algerian history.23 If w e study the elaboration of a nationalist counter-discourse, then, once again w e remark the complex relationship between the orientalist and oriental. In s u m , orientalism was a negotiated product deriving from the reciprocal relationship between the studiers and the studied, the seeds of its destruction as a discourse already planted at the m o m e n t of its first sprouting. This relation

ship was necessarily both an intellectual and a political one. Both the origins and significance of the crisis of orientalism of the present era take on a rather different coloration when seen from this angle, and the limitations of the study of discourse appear more clearly.

W h a t is the role of crisis in the transformation of disciplines? W h a t sorts of crises result in enduring transformations in disciplines, and which ones do not? It is in the nature of things that disciplines are always undergoing challenge. It is also clear that disciplinary paradigms can be consolidated only by excluding those elements of. the discipline that call the credentials of the discipline into question. H o w can w e distinguish a serious crisis likely to result in a n e w breakthrough from the quotidian trumpeting and clash of academic elephants?

For example, just n o w in the United States m u c h has been m a d e of the attack Derek Freeman has launched on the work and reputation of the late Margaret M e a d . 2 4 The challenge is directed at fundamental issues: the validity of field-work (the hallmark of the discipline) and beyond it some of its basic assumptions. W h a t has m a d e Freeman's attack significant is that he explicitly connected it to a generalized assault on what he calls 'cultural determinism', and with it the school of Franz Boas, A . L . Kroeber, and Robert Lowie. In its place he argues for the primacy of biological determinism, and the socio-biology of Edward Wilson and his school. In fact, in the guise of an attack on M e a d , Freeman seeks to discredit the governing paradigm in American anthropology since the 1920s—the notion that h u m a n beings are the products not only of nature (as propounded at the time by the pseudo-science of racist eugenics), but also of 'nurture', that is of culture. Franz Boas and his disciples (among them Margaret M e a d ) were fighting to establish the legitimacy of their position in the 1920s. T h e stakes in the Freeman/Mead debate are therefore extremely high. But it is unlikely to result in any significant transformation of the discipline.

A complete explanation cannot be given


here. It is perhaps sufficient to note the marginal position of both M e a d and Freeman in the discipline, the lack of any rival institutional network (Freeman's attack, despite its claims to wider relevance, is largely ad feminam—he himself has no school, and is not a m e m b e r of one). Finally, the challenge of psycho-biology to the discipline of anthropology (and indeed the whole nature/nurture debate) has long been settled as far as American anthropologists are concerned: indeed it was precisely this debate which helped launch the profession in its modern form. A s a result, the positions taken by each side are k n o w n , and established defences exist against them. It is not in this w a y that the discipline of anthropology will be overthrown.

A second negative example will permit us to grasp the point more completely. In m y o w n research on the French sociology of Islam I have argued that the field underwent a period of profound crisis in the period 1890-1914. The first crisis of French orientalism, as I have called it, was an expression of the more general crisis of French higher education out of which the modern disciplines (notably the Durkheim school) emerged.25 That is, it was a crisis in the conception of the field, its internal organization, and its relationship to the larger intellectual field of French science. In this period something called the sociology of Islam in a modern sense first emerged. N e w institutions were created, new journals launched, claims were m a d e to the scientific status of the n e w field, and new conceptions of the work process were developed: just the sort of thing that characterized the Durkheimians.

T h e crisis was simultaneously a crisis within the orientalist paradigm itself, a break with its stereotypes and essentialism, a m o mentary openness to the historicity and variety of the Muslim peoples, a time when M u s lims themselves where permitted to appear as both the subjects and objects of study. The prime expression of this aspect of the crisis was the journal, Revue du monde musulman, which appeared from 1906 to 1926. It was 'ni orientaliste, ni colonialiste', according to its

founder, Alfred LeChatelier, w h o held the chair of Muslim Sociology and Sociography at the Collège de France. I have elsewhere reviewed the remarkable openness of the Revue to the currents of the age, its refusal to hypostasize Islam and Muslims, its love of dialogue. All of these traits were distinctively n e w , and posed a sharp challenge to the older orientalist view, which concentrated upon texts, spoke of Islam as a timeless essence, and resolutely refrained from recognizing the dynamism of Muslim societies in the period.

W h y then did the first crisis of orientalism, though it possessed m a n y of the features of the crisis that gave birth to sociology in France, not give rise to a modern discipline of the sociology of Islam? It is not possible to give a fully adequate answer here, because of constraints of space. Those interested are referred to m y above-mentioned essay. But the answer has several parts. O n e has to do with the particular historical context for relations between France and Islamic societies early in the twentieth century. T h e uncertainties of the French colonial offensive in M o rocco in the period 1890-1904 created an opening for views that did not agree with the stereotypes of the colonial vulgate view of Muslim society.

Secondly, and more generally, the period is one of unusual openness in the relations between European and Muslim liberals. In their c o m m o n hope for the establishment of constitutional regimes, representative governments and the principle of the rule of law, and their c o m m o n awareness of the forces in their o w n societies which threatened these positions, European and Muslim liberals had m u c h upon which they could agree. The Revue du monde musulman is the fruit of this joint political expectation. T h e shifting of political winds with the First World W a r undermined the basis on which this m o m e n tary openness could exist, and the old orientalist paradigm reasserted itself.

The primary reason w h y the so-called first crisis, of orientalism did not yield a new school or a modern discipline of the sociology of Islam, then, is because the field itself was


so politically saturated that any hope of a fundamental transformation was crucially dependent upon particular political conjunctures. A slight shift in political currents, and the opening w a s closed. Finally, the relatively marginal intellectual position of both the École d'Alger and of Alfred LeChatelier to the emerging French mainstream social science disciplines further weakened any possibility of a m o r e fruitful outcome of this fortuitous m o m e n t .

T h e study of a crisis which in fundamental ways might very well have been expected

to lead to a transformation of the field and lead to the forging of a n e w paradigm and the crystallization of a n e w discipline, but which did not, is therefore particularly interesting. It permits us to see h o w the ways in which the authority of discourses is created, imposed and institutionalized depends upon a complex interrelationship of intellectual and political forces, as well as upon the place of the intellectual challenger within them. T o study the institutionalization of the social sciences and their impacts must necessarily involve an uncovering of these relationships.26

1. See, for example, Clifford Geertz, 'Blurred Genres', American Scholar, 1980, pp. 165-79.

2. Michel Foucault, The Order of Things: An Archeology of the Human Sciences, Paris, Gallimard, 1966, Vintage Books edition, 1973; Pierre Bourdieu, Esquisse d'une théorie de la pratique, Geneva/Paris, Droz, 1972.

3. For two of the most influential examples of this approach, see Raymond Aron, Main Currents in Sociological Thought, 2 vols., N e w York, Basic Books, 1965; French edition: Gallimard, 1967; Talcott Parsons, The Structure of Social Action, 2 vols., N e w York, McGraw-Hill, 1937; reprint: Free Press, 1968.

4. O n Durkheim, see among other works Terry N . Clark,

I Prophets and Patrons: The French University and the Emergence of the Social Sciences, Cambridge, Mass. , Harvard University. Press, 1973; Steven Lukes, Emile Durkheim: His Life and Work, London,

Allen Lane, 1973; and the several special issues of the Revue française de sociologie on Durkheim ' À propos de Durkheim' Vol. XVII, N o . 2, 1976, and 'Les Durkheimians' Vol. X , N o . 1, 1979, especially the articles by Philippe Besnard . and Victor Karady.

•5. Victor Karady, 'Stratégies de réussite et modes de faire valoir de la sociologie chez les durkheimiens', Revue française de sociologie, Vol. X X , N o . 1, 1979, pp. 54-6.

6. Clark, op. cit., p. 242. See also his 'Emile Durkheim and the Institutionalization of Sociology in the French University System', Archives européennes de sociologie, Vol. IX, 1968, pp. 37-71.

7. First published in 1895, and now a classic in the history of the social sciences, this volume is important for its authoritative definition of the scope of the field. It played an important role in shaping the parameters within which sociology developed in France until the Second World W a r .

8. The following is based upon two articles of Victor Karady, 'Durkheim, les sciences sociales et l'Université: bilan d'un semi-échec', Revue française de sociologie, Vol. XVII , N o . 2, 1976, pp. 267-311, and 'Stratégies de réussite et modes de faire valoir de la sociologie chez les durkheimiens', ibid., Vol. X X , N o . 1, 1979, pp. 49-82, as well as Philippe Besnard, 'La formation de l'équipe de l'Année sociologique', ibid., Vol. X X , N o . 1, 1979, pp. 7-31. See also Lukes, op. cit.

9. Durkheim, quoted in Georges Weisz, 'L'idéologie républicaine et les sciences sociales: Les durkheimiennes et la chaire d'économie sociale à la Sorbonne', Revue française de sociologie, Vol. X X , N o . 1, 1979, p. 84.

10. Leon Bramson, The Political Context of Sociology, Princeton, N .J . , Princeton University Press, 1961; also Alvin W . Gouldner¡ The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology, N e w York, Basic Books, 1970.


11. O n the relationship of French ethnography and the Durkheimians, see Donald Ray Bender, Early French Ethnography in Africa and the Development of Ethnology in France, Northwestern University: Anthropology, 1964 (Ph.D. dissertation).

12. The following account is drawn from m y 'The Sociology of Islam: The French Tradition', in Malcolm H . Kerr (ed.) Islamic Studies: A Tradition and its Problems, pp. 73-88. Malibu, Calif., Undena Publications, 1980.

13. Jacques Berque, Le Maghreb entre deux guerres, p. 124, Paris, Éditions Seuil, 1962.

14. O n the French colonial vulgate and the Kabyle myth, see Charles-Robert Ageron, 'La France a-t-elle eu une politique kabyle ?' Revue historique, Vol. 223, 1960, pp. 311-52.

15. Recently reissued, with an important introduction by Fanny Colonna, Aix-en-Provence, Edisud, 1983. See also her essay (with Claude Brahimi) ' D u bon usage de la science coloniale', Le Mal de voir. Ethnologie et orientalisme: politique et épistemologie, critique et autocritique, Cahiers Jussieu, N o . 2, Paris, Collection 10/18, 1976, pp. 221-41.

16. Lucette Valensi, 'Le Maghreb vu du centre: sa place dans l'école sociologique française,' in Jean-Claude Vatin (ed.), Connaissances du Maghreb : Étude comparée des perceptions françaises et américaines, Aix-en-Provence, Éditions du C N R S (in press).

17. For an introduction to what has become an extensive

literature, see among others, Anouar Abdel-Malek, 'The End of Orientalism', Diogenes, Vol. 44, 1963, pp. 103-40, and Abdallah Laroui, La crise des intellectuels arabes, Paris, Maspero, 1974. English translation: The Crisis of the Arab Intellectual, Berkeley/Los Angeles, University of California Press, 1976. See also m y essays 'The Image of the Moroccan State in French Ethnological Literature: A N e w Look at the Origin of Lyautey's Berber Policy,' in Ernest Gellner and Charles Micaud (eds.), Arabs and Berbers From Tribe to Nation in North Africa, pp. 175-99, London, Duckworth, 1973, and 'Fez, the Setting Sun of Islam: A Study of the Politics of Colonial Ethnography', The Maghreb Review, Vol. II, N o . 4, 1977, pp. 1-7.

18. Edward Said, Orientalism, N e w York, R a n d o m House, 1978.

19. For an important critical examination of Foucault's and Said's use of the term 'discourse', see the review article by James Clifford in History and Theory, Vol. 19, N o . 2, 1980, pp. 204-23.

20. B . S. Cohen, 'The C o m m a n d of Language and the Language of C o m m a n d ' , unpublished manuscript, 1983. Also his lecture, 'The Colonial Sociology of Knowledge', Santa Cruz, University of California, February 1979.

21. David Kopf, British Orientalism and the Bengal Renaissance, Berkeley/Los Angeles, University of California Press, 1969.

22. See, for example: Niyazi Berkes, The Rise of Secularism

in Turkey, Montreal, McGill University Press, 1964; Albert Hourani, Arabic Thought in the Liberal Age, London, Oxford, 1962; and Nikki R . Keddie, Roots of Revolution An Interpretative History of Modern Iran, N e w Haven, C o n n . , Yale University Press, 1982.

23. Here the locus classicus is Yves Lacoste, André Nouschi, and André Prenant, Algérie passé et présent, Paris, Éditions Sociales, 1960.

24. Derek Freeman, Margaret Mead and Samoa: The Making and Unmaking of an Anthropological Myth, Cambridge, Mass. , Harvard University Press, 1983. Freeman attacks Mead's early work on Samoa, especially her Coming of Age in Samoa (New York, William Morrow, 1928). A debate of major proportions had been going on for the past six months. A m o n g the more important contributions, see George E . Marcus, New York Times Book Review, 27 March 1983, and James Clifford, Times Literary Supplement, April 1983. For a Samoan view, see Robert Trumbull, 'Samoan Leader Declares: 'Both Anthropologists are Wrong' . New York Times, 24 M a y 1983, p. 18.

25. For a more complete discussion, see m y article, 'The First Crisis of French Orientalism', in Vatin, op. cit.

26. Pierre Bourdieu, 'Les conditions sociales de la production sociologique: sociologie coloniale et décolonisation de la sociologie', in Henri Moniot (ed.) Le mal de voir, Paris, Collection 10/18, 1976.

Geography in the late twentieth century: n e w roles for a threatened discipline

Milton Santos

W h e n w e consider the multi-faced reality of the world today, it is essential to recognize the revolution in both history and science which gives the sciences of m a n and society a prominent position a m o n g all fields of knowledge. In a world thus restructured, a special role should be allocated to the science of geography—the science of h u m a n space— and w e must ponder the problems of ensuring that this special science realizes its full potential and keeps pace with modern progress. Will inertia prevent geography from developing, or will a n e w , re-invigorated discipline begin to assert itself?

The rediscovery and remaking of the world in the age of science and technology and the new role of the sciences

From international to global

K . Polanyi (1957) rightly spoke of The Great Transformation when hailing the far-reaching changes that have affected our civilization since the beginning of the century. W h a t , then, can be said of the.profound upheaval that the world has experienced since the end

Milton Santos is professor of geography at the University of São Paulo, Brazil. H e has published several books, including Les villes des pays soiis-développés (1971), The Shared Space (1979) and Por uma geografia nova (1978). His address: rua Nazaré Paulista 163, apt. 64, 0548 São Paulo, Brazil.

of the Second World W a r , w h e n , through the shiftjo ajlobal outlook, an entirely n e w page in the history "of mankind was turned?

O r course, today's world has been long in the making, and the internationalization process is no recent phenomenon. T h e trend towards worldwide economic, social and political relations began with the pushing back of trade frontiers in the early sixteenth century, m a d e a rapid headway during the centuries of

capitalist expansion, and has finally become an established fact at a time w h e n a n e w scientific and technical revolution is occurring and patterns of life on earth are suddenly changing: relations between M a n and Nature have reached a turning-point as a result of the tremendous power n o w at man' s disposal. Startling qualitative changes are occurring: in particular, the possibility

of knowing everything and using everything on jt_\yorld._ scale, which from n o w on will form the background to social relations. It makes sense to speak of a world-system, whereas in the past there was simply "a tendency towards an international system (Amin, 1980, p. 188).

Given the n e w scope of history, 'the entire structure of the postulates and prejudices on which our world-view was based' must be

658 Milton Santos

revised, according to G . Barraclough (1965, p. 10). M o r e recently, Katona and Strum-pel (1978, pp. 2-3) have critized our conception of economics, in which n e w phenomena play too small a part, and have deplored a state of affairs in which factors such as finance are still being studied in a purely national setting and not in their world context. Sociology as developed in the second half of the nineteenth century, according to A . Bergesen (1980, p. 1), should be replaced by_a_wprldr-system approach, better adapted to the n e w reality.

C a n w e conclude that this world-system (Bergesen-and Schoenberg, 1980), regardless of whether it is called world society (Pettman, 1979), or global system (Modelski, 1972) actually exists? It is alleged to be the corollary of linkages connecting the most distant and, in every respect, the most disparate of national societies, as a result of the n e w conditions governing life in society, namely, a capitalist division of labour on a world scale, based on the development of the forces of production throughout the world and operated by states and giant corporations or transnational companies (Mazazavala, 1976, p. 43.)

Universalization is n o w a fact: universal-ization of production, including agricultural production, production processes and marketing, trade, capital and the capital market, goods, prices and m o n e y as a standard c o m modity, finance and debts, the model for utilizing resources through universally interrelated techniques (Breton, 1968, p. 112), labour (i.e. the labour market and nonproductive work) , the working environment of firms and households; and universalization, too, of tastes, consumption, food, culture and models of social life, universality of rationality

' in the service of capital, which have c o m e to enshrine an equally universal standard of morality, universality of a trade ideology imported from abroad, universalization of space, of society which has become a world society, and of m a n , threatened with total alienation.

W e live in a world in which all production is governed by a worldwide standard of value,

through dominant forms and techniques of production which use the universal scientific labour envisaged by M a r x (Mandel, 1980, p. 132). All these forms of production also have a universal basis, and n o w depend on the existence of a world market.

Is the globalization process n o w complete? For m a n y , there can be no question of establishing universal social classes (Navarro, 1982; Bergesen, 1980, p. 10) or a universal moral code, even if this were to be the moral code of states. Although multinational corporations are everywhere producing a transnational middle class (Sklar, 1977), and although institutions of a similar nature exist in all countries, social classes are still defined on a territorial basis, just as the aspirations and characteristics of a people are still determined by their historical inheritance. States, which have increased in number with n e w historical circumstances, m a k e up a world system, but, taken individually, they offer both an invitation and a barrier to outside influence. Their action, even when authoritarian, is rooted in the past, and therefore the underlying structures of the nation never become fully universal. Nevertheless, globalization is a phenomenon to be reckoned with. Today, anything which is not globalized must be defined in terms of globalization.

An age of science and technology?

O n e m a y disagree about the features of the present age and about what it should be called. W e are living through it, and nothing is more difficult than defining the present. However , w e k n o w already that our age has encompassed a worldwide revolution which is not yet quite complete, but'whose effects are apparent in every area of life. A s Lucien Goldmann (1978, pp. 185-6) has said:

Since the Second World W a r , it has become more and more obvious to serious-minded researchers that w e are faced with a third type of capitalism, which goes by a whole series of names: organizational capitalism, mass society,

Geography in the late twentieth century 659

Global economic relations: a Panamanian vessel at Kawasaki shipyard, K o b e , Japan. Pierre Biouzard.

660 Milton Santos

etc. It is still capitalism, without a doubt, but fundamental changes have occurred.

The way w e live today should prompt us to remember Marx's warning that new historial departures are doomed to be regarded as mere counterparts of earlier, even defunct, forms of social life, which they resemble (Marx, 1970, p. 58).

W e believe, like m a n y others, that the upheavals characteristic of this phase of hum a n history are largely the consequence of the unprecedented progress achieved in science and technology. This is the age of technological capitalism, according to L . Karpik (1972), or of the technological society, in the words of H . Lefèbvre (1971).

W e m a y , of course, object that economic development has always depended on scientific progress (Tsuru, 1961; Jalee, 1969; Bettelheim, 1967; Aron , 1961; Ellul, 1954), or recall, like Mandel (1980), that this is only the third scientific revolution; on the other hand, Heilbroner's question (1967), ' D o machines m a k e history?' must be . raised again and again. S o m e thinkers believe in a kind of technological determinism (Ferkiss, 1969, p . 30), while others warn against the dangers of believing in a 'technological illusion'. W e prefer to side with the latter without, however, underrating the fundamental role played by scientific and technological progress in recent changes that have occurred on this planet. Such a 'total transformation of the foundations of h u m a n life' mentioned by Bernai would have otherwise been impossible (Richta, 1970, p . 43.)

There is n o w a true interdependence between science and technology that did not exist before. A s R . Richta (1970, p. 37) has stated, nowadays 'science precedes technical knowledge', although scientific achievement is increasingly dependent on it. The resultant technology is used worldwide and, where circumstances are favourable, nothing matters apart from a frantic .quest for profit. This is a salient feature"of the present situation. The fact that technology has become a foreign element for m u c h of mankind, as pointed out

by Herrera (1977, p. 159), has far-reaching consequences; for its use throughout the world, most frequently without regard for local natural resources or manpower, causes seriously false situations. This has come about only because scientific work has always been, directly or indirectly, harra&ed to production. Science n o w has a directly productive role to play (Thibault, 1967). ^ ^ ^ .

Misguided globalization and misuse of science !

I The present-day shift „to a world scale is \ misguided (Santos, 1978). The concentration

and centralization of the economy and of political power, mass culture, the scientific invasion of bureaucracy, and over-centralization of decision-making and information, are the root causes of worsening inequalities between countries and between social classes, as well as causing oppression and alienation of individuals. It is thus not surprising that there is a connection between world society and world crisis. Nor is it surprising, though regrettable, that this general trend has affected scientific activity itself.

The rediscovery of the planet Earth and of m a n , in other words, the growth of knowledge about them, yields only the two terms of a single equation. That equation in conditioned by production, in both material and immaterial forms. The state of our knowledge affects the tools that w e use, while at the same time it often changes them abruptly, and introduces constraints or benefits, according to the conditions under which they are used.

! W h e n science is co-opted by a technology / whose objectives are economic rather than

social, it becomes subservient to the interests of production and of producers w h o reign supreme, and it abandons any vocation to serve society. It becomes a body of knowledge confined to its practical uses, in which methodology replaces method.

Knowledge that is corrupted by vested


A fifteenth-century m a p of the world. Arts Décoratifs.

interests and institutionalized on rigidly restrictive lines eventually splits apart: the result is not the desirable autonomy of scientific disciplines, but their separation.- Economic developments widen these gaps and in- i creasingly obscure the global perspective.], and its corollary, a critical awareness of the world as a whole. The work of the scientist is thus deprived of a sense of purpose, and must be carried out from purely pragmatic motives to meet the requirements of those

w h o commission research work or control educational institutions. W h e n scientific work is chained to utilitarian goals, theory is divorced frompraxis (Gouldner, 1976). Hence the likelihood-of" false theories achieving practical success (Bunge, 1968). It is appropriate, then, to talk of the corruption of science (Ravetz, 1977, p . 79).

T h e social sciences are no exceptions to this rule. They have also been distorted by this tendency. Not enough emphasis has been

662 Milton Santos

laid on the dangers of a monodisciplinary social science that is unconcerned by the relations—albeit universal—linking the multifarious components of society as a whole. O n e of the most potent causes of the current crisis in the social sciences m a y well prove to be their insularity. M u c h of the intellectual output in this field neglects comprehensive, worldwide studies. This short-sightedness in planetary terms is one of the signs that the h u m a n sciences have gone astray.

Since they have become incapable of distinguishing between principles and standards (Catemario, 1968, p. 74), and have thus become degenerate, it is not surprising that they n o w serve,theJnterests, often somewhat inglorious, of the world of production in m a n y and various ways. Sometimes, they commit themselves, without demur, to the marketing of what is called h u m a n relations, to all kinds of 'social engineering' and to the production of ideologies to order (Useem, 1976), thereby gradually reducing their scope. T h e social sciences, then, support a tendentious selection of major contradictions: the state and transnational corporations, the state and the nation, growth and impoverishment, East and West, development and underdevelopment, etc., while obscuring the real causes and predictable results of interlinked phenomena.

B y narrowing their scope in this manner and curtailing their field of action, they become internationalized while at the same time they are incapable of taking a comprehensive and critical view of the world. Over-specialization and loss of ambition to attain any degree of universality are two aspects of one phenomenon which leads to misuse of the social sciences.

Geography does not escape this trend. Developed partly for utilitarian ends, and based on neo-classical and therefore aspatial ^economics, it was bound to contradict its o w n nature. Its weaknesses therefore include a lack of a clearly defined purpose and the shaky theoretical and epistemológica! foundations on which its practice rests. Moreover, the absence of a more reliable system of

reference accounts for the key role played by this discipline in the inegalitarian reorganization of space and of society, both locally and internationally.

Fresh possibilities for the human sciences

Although the present historical period is typified by scientific activities that are very often channelled into short-term, utilitarian concerns, it is also showing signs of a different trend. W h e n science becomes a direct force of production, there is a corresponding increase in the importance of man—that is, of h u m a n knowledge—in the production process. Knowledge permits broader and deeper familiarity with the planet, a true rediscovery of the world and its vast possibilities, since new value is attached to h u m a n activity itself. O n e need only harness these tremendous resources to m a k e them serve mankind. This a long-term, though not impossible, task, and it calls for the autonomy of science as defined by W u t h r o w (1980, p. 30).

For the time being, local conditions under the international economy tend to give priority to technological requirements and technical units, which are regarded as fixtures, since the postulates of economics itself seem to be organized around rigid technical equations. W e must n o w find a way of escaping from the dictates of technology and subordinating technological choices to goals that are m u c h wider even than the economy. Clearly, then, this is by no means a technical issue, nor does it concern the natural sciences; on the contrary, it concerns the social sciences, and gives them added responsibility.

Although historical needs inevitably produced it, the recent rediscovery of nature and m a n should be attributed more particularly to the biological and physical disciplines known as 'the sciences'. It has also infused new value, as yet inadequately measured, into the 'non-sciences', the disciplines concerned with society and m a n , in the reasoned construction of history.


N e w 'scientific' knowledge points to the realm of the possible, whereas its concrete embodiment depends more on economic, cultural and political circumstances. A s the future is not unique but has to be chosen, the social sciences should take the lead in the voluntary construction of history, by expanding their philosophical frame of reference to include the postulate that the teleo-logical concerns are not an obstacle to the faithful transcription of phenomena.

N e w circumstances are both cause and effect of a host of latent or actual possibilities whose multiple patterns are a ̂ factor j)î growing complèloty^r^differentiation. T h e present Tieed is not to adapt tHé̂ past, but to overturn fundamental concepts, methods of approach and paradigms of analysis. Consequently, content, methods, categories of study and keywords must all change at once.

A s a promise for the future, the growth of possibilities concerns the entire world and all mankind, but the historical and geographical implications of the possibilities are subject to the laws of necessity. Divisions are seldom clear-cut between the various fields, but there is reason to believe that, in tomorrow's world, it is the h u m a n sciences that will broaden this scope. Moreover, m a n y of the combinations n o w possible are not desirable; others, equally numerous, cannot be applied indiscriminately to any country or region.

Regeneration

of a threatened discipline

A threatened discipline

T h e current importance of territory (to avoid the term 'space') in the making of history is probably indicated by the growing interest that it attracts, not only a m o n g geographers but also, and increasingly, on the part of town planners, planners in other fields, scientists in fields as diverse as economics, sociology, ethnology, political science, history, population studies, etc. Both Neis Anderson (1964, p. 5) and, more recently, Pierre George

(1982, p. 1) noted that the so-called traditional subject-matter of geography was being increasingly taken over by various specialists. ' O u r subject' is apparently better studied by others, complains V . D . Dennison (1981, pp. 271-2).

Moreover, geography, which has succumbed to the blandishments of the world of production, m a y well be a victim of over-specialization. A s early as 1957, M . Sorre (p. 10; pp. 35-6), wrote of a threat of 'dism e m b e r m e n t ' . J. Allan Patmore (1980) drew attention to these dangers, and, despite his scepticism, R . J. Johnson (1980) nevertheless suggested that if it continued along the same route, the discipline was heading for anarchy. The same concern prompted Brian Berry (1980, p. 449) to say in his presidential address to the Association of American Geographers that the trend was from pluralism to a free-for-all. Must w e therefore agree with M . E . Eliot Hurst (1980, p. 3) , w h o claims that it is a dying discipline? It is, without a doubt, a threatened discipline; but as things stand at present it is threatened more from within than menaced by related disciplines.

T h e issue becomes more complicated if one adopts the view of R . J. Johnson (1980) that there are as m a n y geographies as geographers, or if one agrees with H . Lefèbvre (1974, p. 15) that

specialized texts inform readers about all kinds of fields that are themselves specialized . . . there is probably an infinite number of fields: geographical, economic, demographic, sociological, ecological, commercial, national, continental, global, etc.

Y . Lacoste (1981, p. 152) summarized these two points of view to some extent when he wrote:

In fact there are as many concepts of 'the geographical field' or of 'the social field' as there are 'schools of thought' in geography, sociology or ethnology; in the extreme case, there are as many ways of viewing things as there are

664 Milton Santos

individual personalities conducting investigations within a scientific procedure.

Perceptions of the same things do indeed differ because individuals differ. But should all attempts to achieve an objective definition of something be abandoned on that account? If so, one would not k n o w where to begin scientific work and one would always be vulnerable to ambiguity. In fact, with regard to the issue at hand, what is seemingly a twofold problem must be reduced to a single one. The problem is that of defining the field of geography, whether regenerated or redefined, and thus of determining its subject-matter and its limits (Holt-Jensen, 1981, p . 4).

In search of subject-matter: space

A system of reality, that is, a system m a d e up of things and the life that sustains them, implies laws: a structure and rules of operation. A theory, i.e. its explanation, is itself a system, constructed in thought and with categories that reproduce the structure that determines the interlinking of facts. It m a y be called spjtialjDrganization, spatial.structure, organization.of.space," territorial structure or simply space, but only the n a m e changes, and this"is not of vital importance. Our concern is to find the analytical categories that will enable us to build up systematic knowledge of it, so that both analysis and synthesis become feasible with the same components.

M u c h time and talent have recently been wasted by geographers in fruitless semantic debate. They have even indulged in the g a m e of inventing n e w names. For example, some prefer to speak about the spatiality or even the spatialization of society, while rejecting the word 'space', even if they m e a n social space. However," the n e w geography calls for a refinement of the concept of space and a quest for n e w categories with which to analyse it. W h e n A r m a n d o Correa da Silva (1982, p . 52) said that there is no geography without a consistent spatial theory, he also said that this 'consistent spatial theory' is valid analyti

cally only if it rests on a 'conception of the nature of space'.

¡ Space is neither a thing nor a system of i things, but a relational reality: things and | relations together~(Maboguhjë,' 1980, p . 58). "Hence it can be defined only in relation to other realities: nature and society, through the m e d i u m of work. Space is therefore not, as in conventional definitions of geography, the result of interaction between m a n and nature in the raw, or even an amalgam of present-day society and the environment.

Space must be consideredas an indivisible whole, comprising both a certain arrangement of geographical, natural and social objects, and the life that runs through them, that is to say, society in motion. Content (society) is not independent of form (geographical objects) and each form contains a fraction of the content. Space, then, is a set of forms, each containing fractions of society in motion. Forms therefore have a role to play in the achievements of society.

A s a totality, society is a set of possibilities. Totality, according to Kant, 'is plu

rality viewed as unity', or 'the unity of diversity' according to A . Labriola (1902) and E . Sereni (1970). That unity is none other than n e w or regenerated essence whose purpose is to cease to be a potentiality and to become action. That content—essence— can be compared to a society on the m o v e . O r better yet, to its as yet unrealized present.

. Embodied content, being that has already become existence, is society moulded into geographical forms, society which has become space. Hegel's phenomenology would speak of the transformation of total society into total space. Society would be being and space would be existence. Being is metamorphosed into existence by processes imposed by its o w n determining factors, which m a k e each form appear as a 'form-content', a separate entity capable, in its turn, of influencing social change. It is perpetual motion, and through this infinite process society and space evolve dialectically.


' D o machines make history?' from Stanley Kubrick's film 2001: A Space Odyssey (1967). Edimedia.

The importance of space today

T h e globalization of society and of the economy lead to the globalization of geographical space, infusing it with n e w significance (Amin , 1980, p. 226). In the development of society, each component has a different role in the m o v e m e n t of the whole, and the roles differ from m o m e n t to m o m e n t .

Space today is acquiring fundamental importance, for nature in its entirety is becoming a productive force (Prestipino, 1973, 1977, p. 181). W h e n all places have been affected, directly or indirectly, by the needs of the production process, patterns of selectiveness and hierarchies of utilization also develop, with the active or passive assistance of various agents. Hence there is a reorganization of functions a m o n g the various fractions of territory. Each point in space thus becomes potentially or actually important; its importance depends on its o w n virtualities,

whether natural or social, pre-existing or acquired according to selective interventions. A s production becomes globalized, the possibilities of each place assert themselves and are differentiated on a world scale. With the growing internationalization of capital and the rise of transnational corporations, w e shall observe a trend towards global rather than national fixing of production costs, and towards the equalization of profit returns^ owing to the international mobility of capital (Mandel, 1978, pp . 187-8), while the search for the most profitable areas will be a constant factor.

So it is that geographical distinctions are acquiring basic strategic importance, as noted by Y . Lacoste (1977, p. 147). T h e ideal location for a given firm can be chpsefl̂ frprn_ 'ä|ar~Ross"et al. (1980) have recalled in this connection that local projets today are subjected to world constraints.

With regard to these n e w developments,

666 Milton Santos

w e m a y thus conclude that such specialized uses of territory, whether originally natural or cultural, or due to political and technical interventions, imply a true rediscovery of nature, or at least, a total reassessment, in which ^a^h gart,_each_lpcation, is given a n e w "rolé and acquires a n e w value.

A s the phenomenon is a general one, it might be claimed that the geographical nature , of society which C . van Paassen referred to in I 1957 (Grano, 1981, p. 22) is n o w coming to I the fore. M a n is finally gaining analytic and synthetic knowledge of the whole of nature, and is acquiring the ability to m a k e general use, on a world scale, of things around him. W h e n nature is given a n e w definition and its relations with h u m a n beings are cast in a n e w mould, it becomes necessary to renovate the disciplines with which it is studied. In geography, n e w outlooks and a n e w ability to work with universal laws will be needed.

Towards a global geography

But was not geography already global? A century ago, K . Ritter and Vidal de la Blache spoke of the unity of the earth. A n author such as K . Boulding (1966, p. 108), though an economist, unhesitatingly affirmed that of all the disciplines, geography was the one which viewed the earth as a global phenomenon to be studied. But, in a recent article, V . D . Dennison (1981, pp. 271-2) seems be answering both yes and no in reply to the question, although, in his opinion, this discipline is synonymous with world studies. T h e ambition to m a k e it global, that is to say, the desire to embrace the totality of phenomena and express them in scientific terms, is one thing; success in doing so is another (McConnell, 1982, pp. 1633-4).

The old tradition of national schools of geography, or, at any rate, the historical assumptions underlying the development of geographical science in various national contexts, m a y have hindered attainment of the stage of global geographical studies. It is true that the concern to be all-encompassing has w o n greater success in the field of what is

known as physical geography (Voropay, 1978, p. 616), whereas success has been more , difficult to achieve in the sphere of social factors. In fact, it is hard for attempts at theorization in this field to get beyond the embryonic stage, even supposing that they do not fail miserably or lapse into mere verbiage.

The internationalization of economics had m a d e it possible to speak of global cities, authentic links in the chain of multiple relations which determine the shape of social life on this planet (Santos, 1978). But, in fact, space in its entirety has been globalized, and there is no longer a single point on the globe which can be regarded as isolated.

Geographical theory should therefore be constructed on m u c h broader lines. A s long ago as 1950, J. F . Unstead was advocating the need for a 'world geography' or 'global geography'. But plans to achieve this goal were not followed through. Vacillating between description and generalization from antiquity to the nineteenth century, geography has never been able to describe everything or avoid generalizations that have often been inconsistent. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, it opted for theorization—or at least scientific independence—with the postulation of principles. However , m u c h remains unknown about the earth, and m a n y other branches of knowledge are still in their infancy. However , geography is making a tremendous effort to become established as a science, although it has not been entirely successful.

W e believe that the reason for these failures lies not in geographers' lack of talent, but in the fact that actual historical conditions were not ideal; hence the difficulties of working out a geographical theory. Throughout this century, while the debate on the true nature of geography has merged with discussion of its claims to be a science, more substantial epistemological concerns have been set aside. Even efforts m a d e after the Second World W a r have yielded only a small portion of the expected results. W e believe, however, that historical conditions are n o w ripe for establishing a geography that is

668 Milton Santos

both global and theoretically based, thereby fulfilling a century-old ambition.

The globalization and the empiricization of categories

N o w that the world has become global, what will happen to geography? The world has, undoubtedly, always.been-a-single-unit. H o w ever, it has not always been possible to grasp its oneness,,, except in the, case of a few phenomena with more general impact, which tend to occur outside the social field. Today, with the internationalization of techniques, production and products, capital and labour, tastes and consumption, the globalization of social relations in every respect (economic, financial, political, etc.) is a guarantee of universality that allows every inch of space in the world to be understood in terms of global space. ' ','"""""

Only through such universality, which is empirical, can certain philosophical categories be translated into geographical language without loss of meaning. This is true of the categories of universality, particularity andj singularity and of the categories of form,| function, process and structure, this last being synonymous with essence, defined through the opposition—not yet sufficiently studied— between landscape and society of even between landscape and space.

Geography is n o w equipped to go beyond the 'palaeo-dialectic' of classical and even present-day geographers. A s the 'zero law' of the dialectic proposed by E . Marquit (1981, pp. 309-10)—the law of universal interconnection—can be verified empirically, the role of contradiction in the process of developing knowledge, rightly emphasized by Sean Sayers (1981-82), is an absolute requirement . W e are succeeding precisely because the internationalization process that started nearly five centuries ago has become a globalization process. Until then, the concept of totalization with which w e were able to work was primarily an intellectual one, and not a fully fledged fact. Today, it occurs in

empirical events and relationships prior to being grasped by the intellect.

W e can n o w say that the great universais become empirical w h e n , on the one hand, the practical development of technologies occurs independently of the recipient environment and w h e n , on the other, all the technologies used are potentially the same everywhere. Technologies' independence of the environment and the globalization of the technological model m a k e technology an authentically concrete universal (Ladrière, 1968, pp. 216-17; Breton, 1968, p. 114), the instrument of a growing bond between times and places. W e are dealing with a homogeneous collection of techniques which has become systemic because it is governed and animated by globalized international relations, and consequently these are also unified in a system. Supranational institutions and transnational corporations have a part to play in this scenario, together with major centralized bureaucratic organizations which o w e their existence to the worldwide expansion of transport and communications.

The universal value of the m o d e of production at the present m o m e n t is the stepping-stone to universal concepts. Samir A m i n (1980, p. 4) states that concepts of general applicability are generally valid, recalling that the feudal m o d e of production does not necessarily have universal validity, since it was an intrinsic part of a period of history and a place, namely Europe. H e also thinks that M a r x failed to arrive at certain universal laws because of his limited experience of social conflict and ignorance of non-European countries, which at the time was quite usual. This is perhaps not quite true, but since internationalization has not yet reached its current stage of development, it was often impossible to work out universal categories.

T h e quantity of relations involved in the functioning of society, the economy and the political scene increases exponentially, so that the range of variables related to one particular object or phenomenon is m u c h greater today than it was in the past. Broad generalizations


are therefore not only possible, but necessary, and they are becoming both more systematic and more sophisticated. Their basis, it should be recalled, is empirical.

So w e could return to the old theme of geography as a 'science of places', associated with such names as Vidal de la Blache and C. Sauer, or w e could revive this same dis-, cussion with the debate on uniqueness, par-i ticipants in which have inclu3èa"Hartshorne (1955), James (1972), Schaefer (1953), G o u rou (1973), Grigg (1965), Kalesnik (1971) and Bunge (1966, 1979).

A s places become more globalized,, so they become more singular and specific:, unique / in other words. This is attributable to the unrestrained specialization of components of space—people, firms, institutions, the environment—the ever-widening dissociation of the processes and subprocesses required for greater accumulation of capital, the increasing number of actions which turn space into a field of multidirectional and variously complex forces, where every place is very different from every other but also clearly bound to alUhê,others.by_a^ngle_nexus_pro;y duced by the driving forces behind the he-gemonically_uniyersal ...pattern of accumulation. Thus it seems that w e are faced with a concrete totality, perceptible through a concrete dialectic, as presented by G . Lukacs (1960) and by Karel Kosik (1967).

W e can no longer speak of a contradiction between uniqueness and globalism. The two are complementary and mutually explanatory. A place is a point in the world where some of the world's possibilities become reality. A place is part of the world and plays a role in its history, or, to quote Whitehead (1938, p . 188), 'any local agitation shakes the whole universe'. The world has always been a set of possibilities; today, however, those possibilities are all interdependent.

Towards a new geography

Today, as w e have seen, technology is used everywhere without reference to local, natu

ral and h u m a n resource systems, and it is superimposed on differing economic and social situations. The results, which create distortions and inequalities everywhere, give each place special combinations, which are all specific forms of the complexity of social life. The problem is therefore that pLrecognizing the effects of these jugerimpositions on the life of each society.

W a y s of bridging gaps between half-formed possibilities and of building a n e w history will be found in the complex sphere where these data occur, in varying combinations. Hence the renewed importance of the sciences of space and of m a n , that is to say, of geography, if w e are to gain proper control of the forces n o w at our disposal.

Outgrowing the old framework, the n e w , larger and differentiated store of knowledge and possibilities calls for a general re-ordering of all the sciences, with redivisions and rearrangements in scientific fields, the creation of n e w disciplines and the regeneration of existing ones. The sciences must start afresh from real circumstances which influence their development and which are a challenge to them. That challenge is primarily defined by the n e w relations, already established or already a possibility, between a society that has become universal and the resources of the world as a whole.

For geography, the new and dominant factor is that which w e m a y call its historical maturity, or all the n e w data that world history imposes on the history of the discipline. For geographers, w h o are professionally concerned with h u m a n space, the n e w situation is a fascinating one. O n the one hand, their_hflrizo_ns_are.̂ wid^ning, _since so-called geographical space has become, more than ever before, IT fundamental "feature of the h u m a n adventure. O n the other, the globalization of space creates the necessary conditions—hitherto unfulfilled—for the establishment of a conceptual framework, a system of reference and an epistemology, a stock-in-trade which has always been lacking in this discipline, and which has accordingly narrowed its field of study so far this century.

670 Milton Santos

T h e pledge of universality is a trump card, for it entails the possilility of better understanding of every fraction of world space in terms of global space, and thus m a k e s it possible to recognize and interpret interventions that have occurred while devel

oping a science that is critically aware. T o do this was impossible before the world b e c a m e truly a world-system, that is, before it bec a m e at each and every the point the object of action by variables on a planetary scale.


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Development research and the social sciences in India

T. V . Sathyamurthy

Introduction

During the last decade or so there has been a veritable explosion of institutions of higher learning and research throughout India in the fields of social science study as well as various aspects of development. Not only traditional centres of higher learning such as universities, but also the central government, state governments and various autonomous and semi-autonomous bodies, such as the Indian Council of Social Science Research (ICSSR), and the University Grants C o m mission ( U G C ) , have taken initiatives in establishing such institutions. Interdisciplinary, multidisciplinary as well as discipline-orientated research; policy studies; data-gathering; commissioned work as well as work of more or less purely intellectual or academic interest; and, research of a speculative or future orientated kind, pour out of these institutes. Yet, surprisingly, although individuals from these various institutes m a y have knowledge of what research others are doing, there is a notable lack of knowledge of each other's work at an inter-institutional level. This has certain disadvantages, the most serious being duplication of

T . V . Sathyamurthy is Fellow at the Christian Michelsen Institute, Bergen, Norway.

effort and the difficulties of gaining access to a critical awareness of work done all over the country.

It is not our purpose to list, let alone summarize, the substantive concerns of the fifty-odd institutes of research and development in India or to focus upon any specific aspect of their work1 or on the methods used to organize research and the criteria applied to choose questions for research. O u r purpose

is to set the emergence of an impressive number of such institutes in a context of development of ideas concerning social science research and its priorities as part of independent India's intellectual history. W e leave out of account the great volume and range of research carried out in numerous institutions or ad hoc bodies on behalf of or under the aegis of important government

ministries, international agencies and other statutory bodies such as the Universities Grants Commission ( U G C ) .

It is useful to point out that, in no other developing country (with the possible exception of Sri Lanka) was there already in existence, at the time of independence, such a pool of trained personnel in the social sciences which could be entrusted with the bulk of research needed as a continuous back-up for

674 T. V. Sathyamurthy

policy-making and for the generation of e m pirical data, theoretical models, or the specification of relevant research problems as could be found in India. T h e interesting feature, given such an initial advantage, lay in the fact that, during the first fifteen years of independence, the growth of institutions of higher learning and research in the field of social science and development was incredibly slow and partial. It was only during the period subsequent to the early 1960s (and especially during the 1970s) that centres of development study and various other bodies devoted to research in social sciences began to appear in considerable numbers. T h e reasons for this delayed fruition of India's potential are not far to seek, as will become evident in the course of this account.

Psychologically, too, it must be r e m e m bered that in India the climate for indigenously initiated research on problems facing the country's economy, society, political system and culture was far more favourable than research based on mechanically following the example of developed countries. The psychological predilection in favour of nationally rooted thinking is partly attributable to a preference based on qualitative considerations, buttressed by the specific course that the nationalist m o v e m e n t took (stressing, for example, swadeshi; indigenously evolved techniques of non-cooperation and struggle against the colonial power; the importance, at least in principle, of the c o m m o n m a n as the main beneficiary of social reform, progress, development, etc.), and partly also to the fact that, in sheer quantitative terms, the country had, at independence, a vast pool of qualified social scientists (initially consisting mainly of economists) which could be drawn upon for extending horizons.

A caveat must, however, be added to this general observation on Indian intellectuals. Let us bear in mind that, at independence, almost all Indians w h o had received university education in the country or abroad had been intellectually moulded by ideas, values, theories, models and techniques generated over a long period in Western institutions

of higher learning, even though these were ostensibly applied to problems of a specifically Indian nature in such fields as economics and, to a lesser degree, sociology and anthropology. This meant that the same educated and academically highly trained people w h o gave their unqualified support to the nationalist m o v e m e n t (led by Gandhi, w h o attached great importance to Indians refusing to be a part of the colonial, i.e. Western, value system), were, in the context of post-colonial India and by virtue of their intellectual training, to provide a direction to India's economic, social, and political development that would be essentially along

. the path that had already been followed in the past by countries that are n o w regarded as industrialized, modern or advanced—be it capitalist or socialist.

This duality of orientation derived from their psychological preferences and intellectual training being wide apart, was a dominant feature of Indian research in the social sciences until a n e w generation of scholars and researchers emerged during the 1960s which questioned the relevance of colonially inherited world views from different standpoints, e.g. by returning to neo-indigenous modes of formulating urgent problems facing the country, by turning to n e w forms of Marxism specifically responsive to conditions of underdevelopment and dependence, or by re-formulating Gandhian ideology to suit contemporary Indian conditions.

The first phase (1947-60)

During the first fifteen years after independence, the main responsibility for research and higher study in development and the social sciences was borne by universities. For decades before independence, departments of economics (as indeed departments of history) of a number of universities (chiefly, but not only, the three Presidency universities of B o m b a y , Calcutta and Madras) had succeeded in building up a corpus of research on problems relating to the Indian economy

Development research and the social sciences in India

and to Indian economic and social history. The B o m b a y School of Economics, under C . N . Vakil, and the Madras University department of economics under the leadership of John Mathai and P . J. Thomas , had been specially active in research in the field of Indian economics though they concentrated on fairly orthodox fields such as public finance, taxation, budgeting problems, national income, etc., rather more than on questions of development per se.

Yet, at independence, university departments of economics had an infrastructure and adequately trained personnel which could serve as nuclei for development-focused research. In a limited sense, even prior to independence, these university researchers in economics had taken an interest in questions of a developmental nature. Thus, the B o m b a y School of Economics had been successful in generating an impressive array of empirical knowledge on the agrarian scene (though as yet without the theoretical sophistication that was to follow during subsequent years) under the leadership of such teachers as Jathar and Beri; and all the three Presidency universities departments of economics were engaged in work directly relevant to India's industrialization—work upon which, for example, those engaged in drawing up the Bombay Plan relied to some degree.

While the study of economics (and economic and social history) in universities had been raised to a fairly sophisticated academic level according to the standards prevailing in metropolitan universities, the level of instruction and research in the other social sciences—sociology, anthropology and political science—was low (here again with certain exceptions, e.g. Calcutta and Lucknow in anthropology, and B o m b a y and Pune in sociology) while interdisciplinary social science was conspicuous by its near total absence throughout the Indian higher education system.

T h e first crop of n e w economists returning from abroad constituted the nucleus of higher studies and research in the field in independent India. In the new political order,

675

a disproportionate amount of importance was attached to a knowledge of economics, considered as the queen of social sciences by the more intellectually inclined leaders of India—both in government (e.g. Nehru, Rajagopalachari, Krishnamachari and Krishna M e n o n ) and in the opposition (e.g. Asoka Mehta, Minoo Masani and Hridaya Nath Kunzru). But neither interdisciplinarity (or, for that matter, multidisciplinarity) nor even balanced economic development (rural and urban; agricultural and industrial) was given m u c h importance during this phase. A great deal of attention was paid to the study of economics with special reference to planning (and, of course, to modern theory) and statistics (and latterly econometrics), as well as to the economics of industrialization and modernization of the Indian economy.2

The main thrust of development-oriented study of social sciences and research was felt in new schools of advanced learning which were established with government patronage and liberal financial support. Within a few years of their establishment, centres of research and higher study such as the Delhi School of Economics (subsequently also the Institute of Economic Growth) and the Indian Statistical Institute at Calcutta (subsequently both at Calcutta and at Delhi) under the leadership, respectively, of V . K . R . V . R a o and K . N . Raj; and P . C . Mahalanobis and C . R . R a o , acquired a considerable degree of national and international prestige. The more traditional departments of economics in the older universities were, to some extent, eclipsed by these new centres of research. At the same time, a few independent centres of research—mainly in the field of economics—such as the National Council of Applied Economic Research ( N C A E R ) , initially under the leadership of P . S . Loka-nathan, also came into being.

Researchers w h o received their training in these n e w institutions went on to teach economics and statistics in some of the established universities; but a substantial number of them started departments of economics in n e w universities (e.g. Jadavpur, Pune,


Baroda, Saugor, etc.) established during the 1950s and 1960s. They inculcated in their students a new awareness of quantitative rigour and the need for empirical thoroughness, as well as of appropriate research methods and techniques. T h e better departments of economics in India thus became the production line of a vast corps of qualified economists and statisticians, a large proportion of which were absorbed in government posts in the field of development and planning, the remainder becoming teachers and university researchers. There was also some brain-drain to more advanced countries and to bodies such as the United Nations and its Specialized Agencies from the ranks of this n e w generation of Indian economists.

B y and large, during.the first phase of India's independence, disproportionate attention was focused on economic aspects of development in the research carried out in universities. Other social sciences were not encouraged nearly to the same extent, though sociology was gradually beginning to come into its o w n by the early 1960s. Apart from economics, only in the field of economic and social history was there a steady growth and accumulation of freshly researched knowledge in Indian universities during this period.

During the latter half of the 1950s, however, it was already becoming evident that Indian universities were subject to enorm o u s pressures that rendered sustained research of a high quality difficult to ensure on a continuous basis. First, education being a state prerogative under the Constitution, most universities (with the exception of national universities of which there was only a handful) were controlled by state governments which had to cater to large numbers of students with limited resources. Second, the quantitative increase in access to education of ever larger numbers meant that the quality of teaching and research inevitably suffered. Third, the question of whether and to what degree higher education ought to be in the language of the state concerned was never satisfactorily settled, and this led to a great deal of confusion about the aim,

scope and standards of higher education in almost all states.

At the same time, the demand for development of technological education was keenly felt. Indian universities, which had had a long tradition of engineering as well as medical education, lacked (with the exception of very few such as Benares Hindu University and the much less well-known Pilani College and Madras Institute of Technology) centres of technological education and research. During the first decade of independence, the government sought to fill this gap by planning to establish, with the help of models adopted from different advanced countries—the Federal Republic of Germany , the United States and the USSR—Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) to which recruitment of students would be on the basis of an all-India competitive entrance examination. In these institutes (at Kharagpur, Madras, Powai near B o m b a y , Kanpur and Delhi), undergraduate and postgraduate students have been trained in the entire gamut of technological and associated 'pure science' disciplines, while academic staff have engaged in research and publication activities in addition to their normal teaching and examining work.

A characteristic feature of IITs has been the importance attached in their curricula and research programmes to the socio-economic aspects of modernization and technological development as well as to the humanities. The departments of humanities in these centres of learning are not mere adjuncts to a core of technological subjects but consist of fine complements of established scholars with intellectually sound programmes of research on the social and h u m a n implications of technological developments in the Third World in general and India in particular.

India's experience of this new kind of educational enterprise has, however, thrown into bold relief a few problems. IITs, by virtue of their sheer size and the vast number of disparate departments, soon became hotbeds of interdepartmental competition for resources. It was not long before the penchant for heavily hierarchical bureaucratic styles of

University of Bombay, India. Roger Viollct.

product, has thus resulted in a considerable loss to the Exchequer while depriving the country in the long term of the services of some of its best-trained talent.

B y 1960, universities could no longer be depended upon to ensure, on a predictable basis, the promotion of research and higher learning in the social sciences or in the field of economic, social and political development.3

A t the same time, the narrower vision of the first decade of independence according to which development was seen as essentially economic in character and the crux of economic development was thought to lie in strategies of rapid industrialization and in the development of modern capitalist relations of production under the auspices of state planning, was rapidly yielding place to a wider and much more complex vision of the Indian reality.

Economic development was seen, not least

functioning, for which India is noted, invaded the corridors of power in these centres of higher learning. Resentment and frustration mounted not only among students but also among the academic staff.'

M o r e serious even than the erosion of academic morale was the gap between the quality, range and number of qualified young m e n and w o m e n (belonging, it might be added, to the cream of the Indian intelligentsia) produced by IITs on the one hand, and, on the other, the capacity of the government and various industrial and other establishments in the country to absorb them in suitable employment. A s a result, large n u m bers of graduates and research degree holders from IITs have, oyer the years, emigrated to the advanced countries of Western Europe and North America. The very success of the Indian Government's policy of technological education, judged in terms of the quality of its


by the more sensitive a m o n g the economists themselves, as only a part of the overall process of development which was integrally tied to social, political and cultural development; most important, in the Indian econo m y , the rural sector was going to be the dominant sector for the foreseeable future, and, as such, agricultural production, agrarian relations, land reform, rural sociology, mofus-sil politics and agriculture-linked industry would have to be brought within the ambit of academic research in a more systematic and rigorous manner than had hitherto been the case.

Thus the feeling grew, during the late 1950s, a m o n g academics, professional people, government leaders and some bureaucrats that Indian development problems should be studied in a genuinely interdisciplinary manner and that, even in economic research, greater attention should be focused on rural society, and on the balance between agriculture and industry in the emerging Indian economy. At the same time, with the rapid expansion of the public sector and the increasing interest evinced by the state governments in economic and social development and planning within their jurisdiction, the climate had become suitable for establishing separate centres of research and higher study in the field of social sciences and development rather than continuing to rely on universities to take over an expanded agenda and to carry out the tasks involved to which, clearly, they were no longer equal.

The second phase (1960-70)

T h e years of prospective thinking underlying the Third Five Year Plan in the government, which reflected to a considerable degree the need for information and knowledge in fields that ranged far beyond economics, narrowly or technically conceived, spawned a general climate in which centres of development studies and social science research (with or without facilities built into them for post

graduate study) were well placed to emerge. Even so, it must be remembered that, during this phase, social scientists continued to be shy of widening their disciplinary horizon to m a k e economics a truly interdisciplinary part of social science taken as a whole, though there was a m u c h greater readiness on their part to diversify their interest within economics itself to include close attention to the problems posed by the rural economy.

Thus, interdisciplinary research, initially, had as its votaries researchers drawn from non-economic subjects. A m o n g these were the founders of what was the first centre for the study of development, as an integrated field of study—the Centre for the Study of Developing Societies ( C S D S ) established in 1963 under the leadership of Rajni Kothari, a leading political scientist, with the help of foreign finance, which, at the time, was not tainted by suspicion. Here, research was undertaken on political participation, psychological aspects of politics, psychiatry, rural sociology, cultural psychology, studies of political attitudes, politics of intercommunal relations, urban development, d e m o cratic decision-making and problems of nation-building. The approach was largely behavioural though in more recent years this has been tempered somewhat by other orientations and by systematic attempts to collect and store different kinds of empirical data of state and district level politics obtained from various parts of India.

T h e uneasiness expressed in a number of quarters throughout India over foreign funding of development and social science research institutes4 indirectly served to stimulate the establishment of national and indigenous higher institutions in these fields.5 In fact, the 1960s constituted the seed time of such activity, and the period during which more and more thought was bestowed upon development studies as a cognate field of research and higher education. Apart from C S D S and a few centres of area studies established in certain universities (e.g. Delhi, Rajasthan and B o m b a y ) , the period under review was noteworthy for the


emergence of three different types of higher research institutions.

First, the central government itself gave recognition to the importance of interdisciplinary research and data collection and storage in respect of rural India by establishing the National Institute of Community D e velopment ( N I C D ) in Hyderabad.6 Here, equal importance was given to public administration, community development, economics and sociology. T h e work was of immediate use to such central government ministries as Food and Agriculture, Rural (and Community) Development, Health and Family Planning, Planning, etc. C . Subra-manian, the then Food Minister, took a keen interest in the functioning of this institute. H e was responsible for the highly controversial treaty relationship under which the data gathered from all over India, as a result of laborious field-work at N I C D was m a d e automatically available (at no cost) to the University of Michigan for storage and use.7

The establishment of an institution of higher study and research such as N I C D also served as an occasion to illustrate another problem faced, from time to time, by social scientists on the Indian academic scene. The first generation of social scientists (mainly economists) bred in Indian and British universities were, by their academic provenance and training, characterized by a more or less homogeneous outlook, and their ideological inclinations blended well with the Nehru Government's general policy of creating the conditions for the emergence of a domestic mixed economy ('the socialist pattern of society') and equidistance from both superpowers (with a commitment to identify with poor countries) abroad. This generation of social scientists was followed by others w h o constituted a mixed bag, both by virtue of the number of social science disciplines to which they belonged, and by virtue of the fact that they received their academic training in foreign universities in ideologically and politically diverse environments.

Although economists continued to constitute the largest contingent, more and more

sociologists, political scientists, geographers, anthropologists, environmentalists and others were recruited to the ranks of social scientists. Unlike economics, the other social sciences in Indian universities were, by and large, either antedeluvian or underdeveloped (or both) and lacked academic distinction. Under such circumstances, social scientists in these non-economic disciplines returning from abroad had no indigenous intellectual moorings or academic loyalties. This meant that, apart from those locally educated (disadvantaged since their intellectual training was widely regarded as substandard by any normal international reckoning), an increasing number of specialists had as their academic reference group or peer group the foreign research schools where they had received their training.

Thus, any institution of higher study or research in fields other than economics could be expected to become a battleground in which protagonists of different methods, techniques, theories, models and intellectual values would come into conflict, rather than a centre in which divergent orientations would blossom together to yield the best possible results. Sharp clashes sometimes took place between, say, those w h o took a 'nationalistic' approach to problems of research and those w h o were thought of as 'pro-American', or, between those w h o were 'Marxist' orientated on one hand, and, on the other, those w h o were regarded as 'functionalist' or 'behav-iouralist' in inclination.

Academic differences thus tended to become translated into wider ideological divisions yet the interesting feature during this period was that there were not m o r e of such clashes. T h e reason lay in the fact that Indian academic establishments have in general a record of toleration on the one hand, while, on the other, there has been, over the years, a strong sympathy for approaches of a broadly liberal or leftist character.8

Second, the idea of establishing national universities, exclusively devoted to postgraduate education and research and designed to become centres of academic excellence, was strongly canvassed, a m o n g others, by Nehru.


Even though such centres were to be engaged primarily in 'pure' research, their concerns would be directly relevant to the problems faced by Indian society in different spheres; thus, they would not be far removed from the concerns of 'applied' research. In the event, however, that the first of these centres—the Jawaharlal Nehru University ( N e w Delhi)— did not c o m e into being until the latter part of the 1960s; to be followed, over a decade later, by a similar institution in Hyderabad.9

Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU) has been the focus of student politics, and, it must be pointed out that it is not a research centre in the same sense as those with which this article is primarily concerned. But the latter, like the former, almost invariably have a certain proportion of researchers w h o are registered for higher degrees (M.Phil, and D.Phil.); at the same time the'former, being a university, has a large concentration of students preparing for higher degrees, and staff time in it is divided between postgraduate teaching and research. Even so, it would be a mistake to ignore such national postgraduate universities while, at the same time, remembering that research focused on social sciences and development is bound to represent only a fraction of their total output of research and intellectual work.

In particular, the centres for political studies, economic studies, historical studies, social studies, and the various area studies in the School of International Studies at Jawaharlal Nehru University are engaged in a wide variety of theoretical and empirical research affecting India's development and throwing light on problems of comparative development in the Third World. However its very situation and highly articulate student body places it in the maelstrom of national politics, leading to the criticism, often voiced by those in authority, that J N U has not really justified the hopes of its founders and the expectations of the wider community.

A t about the same time that the idea of setting up such national centres of academic excellence was conceived, the central government (and especially Nehru) also undertook

to establish a well-provided research institution to which established senior scholars in different disciplines could repair from their normal teaching duties in order to write up their latest books or monographs in peace. Its actual functioning did not begin until 1965, a year after Nehru's death, the old Viceregal Lodge in Shimla being converted into the premises of the Indian Institute of Advanced Study ( H A S ) . 1 0 A small core of permanent Fellows in the historical and social science disciplines acted as catalysts to attract and stimulate academics, drawn from different parts of the country. The turnover was impressive. A large number of publications of varying calibre resulted while research conferences, symposia and seminars were also organized from time to time on interdisciplinary social science themes.

B y virtue of the direct patronage of the central government (as well as the political identification of some of its permanent senior staff), H A S also attracted some adverse criticism. W h e n , in 1977, the Janata government came to power, Prime Minister Morarji Desai was inclined to close it d o w n , as a prelude to restructuring it radically into an autonomous body akin to the 'think tanks' in some Western countries. With the return to power of M r s Gandhi's government in 1980, however, the institute was given a new lease on life.

Towards the end of the 1960s, two major ideas began to circulate in higher education and policy-making circles concerning the organization and funding of research in the social sciences. There was a growing feeling that research in development should take place in a number of centres, and that these should be set up in different states (their capitals as well as other towns) and not be crowded into the national capital or the metropolitan cities. T o some extent, experienced academics entertained the notion that the existence of a number of decentralized facilities pursuing similar goals would, in and of itself, betoken a will to national integration in a country in which, they felt, the pull of regionalism to be growing stronger with each passing year.


T h e urge to decentralize development and social science research went hand in hand with a burgeoning consciousness of the need to diversify work beyond the disciplinary realm of economics to include other social sciences, as a first step in the long-term task of building up a corpus of genuinely interdisciplinary research. In the general ambience provided by such thinking, a number of different institutions emerged towards the end of the second phase and throughout the current phase. For our purposes, it would be fruitful to take the view that, while the latter part of the period with which this section is concerned witnessed the birth of the idea of institutional decentralization, it was only in the subsequent period that a truly p h e n o m enal growth of institutions and of substantive research was going to take place. W e shall, accordingly, consider in detail the emergence of these institutions in the following section. Here, w e shall simply note that, under this rubric, four different kinds of institutions were brought into existence.11

1. Academies or institutes of administration (both at the central government and at the state government levels).

2. Institutes of management . 3. T h e first few of the centres of development

studies and social science research.12

4. Centres of research devoted to the study of different forms of 'alternative development'.

Let us conclude with a brief reference to the • methods available for central co-ordination and financing of such centres and their work. T h e main body concerned is the Indian Council for Social Science Research (ICSSR), which was set up during the 1960s, and which occupies a position of crucial importance in the organization, funding and commissioning of all social science work throughout the field of research and higher learning. It received its original impetus from the indefatigable labours of its founding secretary, the late J. P . Naik, and its work n o w is conducted by a rapidly expanding army of social science researchers drawn from different disciplines.

Although I C S S R is open to the familiar

charge that its style of functioning is a trifle too bureaucratic, it performs the tasks expected of a huge umbrella organization, e m bracing the whole of India, in a generally commendable manner. Its overall organizational responsibilities include evaluation of projects, general supervision and financing of the various centres of research, and keeping an inventory of work done in different disciplines by commissioning trend reports, compiling bibliographies, and conducting seminars and research conferences at which latest results of work in progress in different specified fields m a y be more or less directly communicated to scholars drawn from different institutions of research.

Given the complexity of the tasks involved, it would appear that I C S S R has developed the skills necessary to encourage the various centres of development research to push forward the frontiers of their chosen disciplines and to contribute to our knowledge and information relating to the developmental problems faced by the country as a whole and its various parts severally.

The current phase (from 1970)

T h e main point to note about this period is that it has witnessed no innovations in the realm of ideas concerning development research, but it rather represents a period of ramification, growth and development; or the implementation of ideas that had already begun to géstate during an earlier period. However , it should be noted ithat policymakers as well as professional administrators and academics have, during the last fifteen years, c o m e to appreciate the need for a multi-pronged approach to the task of building n e w research institutions. Three main areas have been identified as requiring attention.

First, of course, research and application of the findings of research to the general area of policy: in other words, centres where social sciences c o m e to be seen not only as subjects of basic research but also as instru-


ments of policy or simply as policy sciences. Second, the area of training managers in

a systematic manner in modern methods, tailored to suit Indian conditions, has also received m u c h attention in recent years. T w o kinds of managers and administrators constitute the target groups—middle-level and higher-level managers—of large enterprises in the public sector and administrators entrusted with the tasks of development (rural and urban) as well as with the maintenance of law and order.

Third, there has been a growing tendency to impart training for management on a scientific and academically sound basis through intensive short-term courses under the direction of experts (drawn from both the public and the private sectors, as well as from academic institutions). Legal, financial (auditing and accounting), organizational, operational, and research and development ( R & D ) aspects, a m o n g others, are focused upon in these courses in which the substantive material m a y be drawn upon either from a body of theoretical literature or from case-studies or both.

T h e sociological significance of such:

heavy emphasis laid on managerial training must not be missed. Despite claims that such courses encourage India's managers to adopt a rational approach to the h u m a n , economic and social dimensions of their work, it is difficult to overlook the fact that the resources poured into the field of managerial in-service education betoken a bias in favour of those enjoying power and privilege and exercising control over the m u c h more numerous workforce where production takes place. The class basis of the Indian state (emphasized by the dirigisme of this managerial élite), despite the claims of its rulers that they are engaged in the task of creating conditions suitable for the emergence of 'a socialist pattern of society', is clearly evident from the growth and general direction of such elitist institutions.

Managerial consciousness on the part of the bureaucracy and the public enterprise sector rose rapidly as a consequence of the close proximity between a rising generation of

Indian managers w h o were being trained to take over these large n e w institutions, and managers imported to train them from the advanced capitalist and socialist countries, along with industrial and other plants and turnkey projects. T h e rise of an indigenous technocracy is one of the main indicators of social and economic change in the urban and industrial sectors of the society. A rising tide of political radicalism a m o n g the intelligentsia, however questions the relevance of technocratic power for the wider problems of poverty and underdevelopment faced by a vast majority.

Another educational innovation is the rising consciousness, a m o n g policy-makers, of the need to give prominence to the developmental needs and imperatives of the countryside. Rural development and agricultural (and extension) education were seen as areas in need of fresh injections of vigour and imaginative expansion. Agricultural education and research, which received only peripheral attention during the colonial period, n o w began to attract a larger slice of resources ] twenty-two agricultural universities being established on the initiative of both the central and the state governments.

T w o main influences have been at play in this vast process. The few successful experiments in the private and governmental spheres in agricultural education and research constituted models for this sphere of education. A t the same time, the Indian Council of Agricultural Research (under the Ministry of Food and Agriculture), led successively by M . S. R a n d h a w a and M . S. Swaminathan,13 provided vigorous leadership in the field of agricultural education during the period of its greatest expansion.

A s in the case of Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs), agricultural universities too have become prone to the addictions of hierarchism and bureaucratism as well as to some of the undesirable features of the general tendency of upper-echelon academics and administrators to adopt feudal attitudes of work. A t the same time, the student intake has been, by and large, a reflection of the


class structure of Indian rural society: the largest proportion tends to come from the families of rich peasants, to a lesser degree from middle peasant families, very few having a poor peasant social background, let alone one in agricultural or landless labour.14

Despite such difficulties, a generally high standard of academic and research work (subject to fluctuations of the general political climate of the milieu in which these universities have to function) has been maintained. Unlike IITs, the agricultural universities have, for understandable reasons, not been very prone to brain-drain to advanced countries.

The sharper awareness of rural conditions that agricultural education necessarily provides, as well as the fact that students are, despite all bias, drawn from a wider social spectrum than the largely urban meritocracy from which the student intake of IITs is drawn, have led to a rise of political radicalism and a clearer understanding of the problems faced by the poorer sections of the Indian peasantry which is often reflected in the research problems chosen by some of the academics.15

Academies and institutes of administration

At the time of independence, there were practically no such institutions, though recruits to the Indian Administrative Service (IAS) and the Indian Police Service (IPS) (and, to a lesser degree, those recruited to the administrative and police services of the states) and the other central services were given probationary training in establishments set up for the purpose.

The importance of public administration as an academic discipline, integrally related to the tasks and policies of development, was first recognized through the establishment of the Indian Institute of Public Administration (IIPA) which has a large staff engaged in research on various aspects of administration spread across the entire spectrum of social sciences. IIP A is an autonomous institution

financed by the central government and situated in Delhi. It has its o w n scholarly journal, the quarterly Indian Journal of Public Administration, containing thematically arranged articles based on research on a wide variety of relevant topics.

During the tenure of Gobind Ballabh Pant as India's H o m e Minister, and subsequently during the Prime Ministership of Lai Bahadur Shastri, fresh thought was devoted to the training appropriate for new recruits to I A S and the allied central services. S o m e dissatisfaction was felt on the ground that I A S probationers were still being trained16 as though they were ICS probationers of the colonial epoch and not as public servants of independent, democratic India. A t the s a m e time, dispersion throughout India of the centres of training for probationers recruited to over a dozen different central services w a s thought to involve not only a waste of infra-structural facilities and teaching personnel but also an unnecessary repetition of teaching a number of core subjects c o m m o n to all the services.

A n initiative of Pant, a single National A c a d e m y of Administration in Mussourie (subsequently named as the Lai Bahadur Shastri National Academy) was established to which all probationers recruited by competitive examination (with the exception of IPS) , are sent for initial training in c o m m o n subjects before they disperse to different centres for further training in subjects relevant to their particular service. For IPS, a separate academic centre was established in Hyderabad.

A major impetus for such restructuring was provided by the rise in development-consciousness of politicians and administrators in the growing realization that ruling or administering, predominantly rural India, w a s a radically different kind of responsibility from that involved in maintaining law and order seen by m a n y as the colonial viewpoint of government. In both the national academies, therefore, curricula consist not only of manuals of rules and regulations and laws, but also of case material put together as exer-

684 T. V. Sathyamiirthy

cises in research by qualified social scientists. During the last fifteen years. T h e initia

tive provided by the central government has stimulated the creation of state-level academies. Their aim is to train administrative service recruits to the state governments (and in s o m e cases even lower-grade officials) the training offered generally consisting of a mixture of academic courses and practical w o r k .

While these academies are primarily concerned with the relations between the administrators and the public, a small number of centres have also been established which address themselves to the task of toning up the managerial cadre in the governmental, public and private sectors. The best k n o w n and most high-powered is the Administrative Staff College of India (ASCI) in Hyderabad. It has a staff of well-qualified experts w h o have the advantage of combining high academic attainment with long and varied practical experience in senior administrative or managerial positions. They have the responsibility for designing short and intensive courses on different subjects for carefully chosen groups of recruits. In addition A S C I also employs a number of experts as consultants commissioned to carry out research projects or provide teaching skills in subjects of a highly specialized character. A S C I is thus a highly prestigious institution, comparable to a military staff college.

Institutes of management

In India, problems of development and social, economic and regional policy-making, as well as the shaping of such financial and banking institutions of immense social depth as the Reserve Bank of India and the State B a n k of India, with their numerous lending and other facilities reaching d o w n to the villages, have c o m e to be seen as requiring systematic management for which training is needed in a n u m b e r of related disciplines. A n approach to m a n a g e m e n t , adapted from the American institutions to suit the particular problems of developing India was sought in the form of

curricula available both to young graduates seeking higher academic qualifications, and to others belonging to various professions seeking to improve their efficiency an3 career prospects.

The Institute of Management (IIM), established at A h m e d a b a d twenty years ago, was modelled on the Harvard School of Management and Business Administration. Its staff m e m b e r s were largely theoretically orientated and the curriculum steered clear of case material, preferring instead to generate a body of first principles applicable to conditions of underdevelopment on the basis of which concrete problems in various spheres could be tackled. This somewhat resembled the generalist approach to administrative training associated with the colonial period, but the similarities should not be stretcched too far. IIM (Ahmedabad) has, by and large, retained its professionalism and steered clear of politics (both in the sense of party politics and in the sense of ideological politics), while of course making itself useful in planning and public sector economics. Its staff is also marked by a spirit of camaraderie rare in Indian institutions of higher learning.

Not long after the establishment of IIM (Ahmedabad) , another group interested in management from a very different vantage point started the Institute of Management at Calcutta. Its orientation was m u c h more sympathetic to the use of case material, IIM (Calcutta) being modelled on the school of management of M I T .

However , not long after IIM (Calcutta) was founded, the radical politics to which West Bengal was prone reached its portals. At the height of the Naxalbari uprising in the mid and late 1960s, the majority of the academic staff was split up between varying shades of left-wing sympathies ranging over the entire spectrum.

The interesting feature of this phenomenon of politicization was that some of the academics (the majority being social scientists of considerable international stature) viewed their politics as integrally related to their academic activities, including the choice of


problems for research, methods of teaching, choice of subject-matter for intensive discussions, etc. Thus, even though IIM (Calcutta), like IIM (Ahmedabad) , is a privileged institution, its political sensitivity and the sympathies of its senior staff with generally popular policies, has led to the use of the case-method approach in originally unintended ways and have radically changed its character over the last fifteen years or so.

T h e emergence of two such institutions, strongly identified in the first instance with two major American schools (and, in fact, set up with foreign aid and under close supervision of their metropolitan counterparts) provoked some thought in certain quarters. It was felt that no amount of adaptation to suit the specific conditions of India could really bring the staff and students of such heavily borrowed institutions close to Indian reality. W h a t was needed, it was argued, was an institute of management that was entirely homespun and capable of generating the interdiscipline of management with special local reference by immersing itself in the research and teaching problems of Indian society and economy.

Ten years after the IIM (Ahmedabad) was established, a third Indian institute of management was set up in Bangalore in 1973, staffed largely by professionals essentially (and, it should be noted, paradoxically) of the IIM (Ahmedabad) vintage. It was directed by an engineer-economist, N . S. Ramaswami , whose main claim to fame has been his work on h o w to make draught animals more efficient and h o w to persuade the ordinary peasant to be more responsive to elementary innovations in the field of locomotive power.

Under his IIM (Bangalore) rapidly expanded as an institution in which such fields as the sociology of law and civil rights, rural and urban development problems, agricultural production, financial management, and various others were included in the curriculum and among the projects investigated. Because of the smaller scale on which IIM (Bangalore) began, it was thought by some to be rather more personalist in its initial direction, and

the directorate was criticized for a degree of arbitrariness and dirigisme. After such teething troubles were over, IIM (Bangalore) at the start of its second decade, has indeed become, like its two older sister IIMs, a power house for generating n e w information and data as well as fresh knowledge about different aspects of developmental policies and institutional performance. Perhaps, our remarks about IIMs should be brought to a close with the observation that, despite their sympathy for applied and policy-related work, they are essentially institutions of an academic character and, in this sense, they are vitally different from the academies of administration and A S C I discussed in the previous subsection.

Centres for deve lopment studies a n d social science studies and research

It was not until the mid-1960s that national centres for the study of development began to appear in different places and, not until the mid-1970s that centres of development studies sponsored and financed by various state governments were started. A s already noted, these centres predominantly tended, at least in the beginning, to have a rather pronounced inclination towards a study of the quantifiable, which meant that economic development studies involving collection of hard data and the use of statistical techniques were pursued by staff drawn largely from the allied disciplines of economics, economic history, demography, planning, economic statistics, etc.

But this picture soon changed, partly because institutions that started as centres of research in economic development problems quickly saw the need to root economic research in sociological and subsequently also political understandings of a complex society, and partly also because new centres emerged in which there was an explicit initial commitment to interdisciplinary research reflected in the staffing and the choice of long-term research priorities, programmes and initiatives.

It should not, however, be thought that


an awareness of the need for a broad interdisciplinary approach to the study of development was n e w to the Indian intellectual scene. In fact, a number of the senior social scientists w h o took the initiative to set up such centres had been occupying positions of influence in the policy-making sections of the central and state governments, in universities and in other public institutions.

A t the same time, a few institutions and university departments, with a m u c h longer history of promotion of research in social science disciplines directly related to Indian problems, provided inspiration to the new centres, even though there was a difference of emphasis between the older institutions (which are m u c h more discipline-orientated) and the newer centres (which tend to focus m u c h m o r e on specific problems and concrete policies).

T h e Gokhale Institute of Politics and Economics (GIPE) in Pune (under the direction of the late D . R . Gadgil and V . M . Dandekar), and the precursor of the Institute of Social Studies in Surat, South Gujarat (under the direction of I. P . Desai, an eminent sociologist), were centres well k n o w n and respected for the quality and range of their output. In fact, unlike the founding directors of a majority of the new centres w h o had had a career in government policymaking bodies prior to devoting their whole time to directing research, the staff of the Gokhale Institute contributed to • a flow of talent in the reverse direction. Thus, for example, the institute m a d e available D . R . Gadgil's services to the Planning Commission to which he gave distinction as its vice-chairman for a number of years.

O f the centres for development studies and those for the study of social science (both referred to as C D S s , unless otherwise specified), the Centre for Development Studies ( C D S ) at Trivandrum and the Institute for Social and Economic Change (ISEC) at Bangalore were started by the economists K . N . Raj and V . K . R . V . R a o respectively. The former, after a distinguished academic career and public life, and the latter, after a long

career in the academic profession culminating in political experience as a Cabinet Minister in the Union Government, conceived the idea of concentrating research of both applied and fundamental kinds in centres intended exclusively for the purpose.

A few years of later, another centre of a similar nature, the Madras Institute of Development Studies ( M I D S ) was set up in Tamil N a d u by Malcolm Adiseshiah, retired Deputy Director-General of Unesco. Both C D S (Trivandrum) and M I D S started as centres of economic research, but soon appreciated the importance of broadening their interdisciplinary scope to include other social science disciplines. Over a period of years, sociologists, anthropologists, political scientists and economic historians were recruited as full-time academics. C D S (Trivandrum) and M I D S fulfilled both a student programme for postgraduates and a research programme for staff and doctoral candidates. I S E C started as an interdisciplinary centre with an ambitious programme and a m u c h larger staff than the other two institutions.

In order to grasp the nature and scope of the work done in the field of social studies and development research, it is useful to describe the activities of these three institutes, which happened to be pace-setters for the many more that followed suit during the mid and later 1970s.

First, these were centres in which there was an initial dominance of economic research and scholarship, a bias that has never quite been overcome despite a great show of willingness on the part of the founders to widen the scope of work to include the other major social science disciplines. A n important reason for this lies in a certain intellectual modesty on their part that prevents them from 'dabbling' in other social sciences; this m o d esty is often combined with a commitment to m a x i m u m theoretical and methodological rigour in the practice of their o w n discipline, which, in this case, happens to be the relatively harder social science of economics.

A s has already been suggested, I S E C overcame the difficulty of accommodating all


social sciences as equals by starting with a number of academic staff members drawn from the various disciplines. M I D S is n o w making conscious efforts to widen its interdisciplinary input by following an advisedly cautious policy of recruiting permanent staff from the sociological and political disciplines. C D S , on the other hand, with its almost entirely economics-trained professoriat, has started a policy of ramifying into the other social sciences by recruiting middle-rank academic staff in such fields as sociology and anthropology.

Second, almost equal importance is attached in these institutions to the two facets of producing original work of quality on the one hand, and on the other, of training qualified economists (and, to a limited degree, other social scientists) by putting them through a rigorous academic course leading to a M.Phil, degree and supervised research leading to a P h . D . degree. This teaching activity, with a full programme of academic work, is a part of C D S ' s (Trivandrum) normal activities, and has already paid rich dividends in the form of an excellent annual crop of students ready to undertake independent research or jobs in the fields of social, economic and agricultural development.

A rather interesting variation of this kind of experience is M I D S ' s emphasis on training university and college teachers (mainly but not only of economics) in the state of Tamil N a d u to teach effectively and with a greater sense of commitment as well as with a better awareness of their disciplines. A t Madras, unlike Trivandrum, there is no full-time academic course leading up to a M.Phil, degree. Instead, a number of workshops are organized throughout the year for university and college teachers of economics at which rigorous and intensive short-term courses are given on methodological, theoretical and interdisciplinary questions. The staff input as well as the teaching work carried out by guests has indeed been truly impressive.

Tne I S E C is m u c h more an institution that provides a variety of established researchers (including young scholars from

abroad, especially from the Scandinavian countries), engaged in projects of their o w n , with a sound intellectual base and a local infrastructure to back.up their work. It has a large number of ongoing projects of its o w n in the different social science disciplines ranging over the entire field of development in which its o w n staff as well as others visiting I S E C are engaged.

Like the other two centres at Trivandrum and Madras, I S E C also holds conferences on topics of contemporaneous relevance. Thus, at the height of the national controversy on centre-state relations, I S E C organized a seminar (August 1983) on the subject to which a large number of participants drawn from various walks of life—academic, political and professional—were invited. The papers that emerged from the conference were not only of topical importance but, in some-cases, also constituted excellent researched contributions on a subject.on which there has of late been a pronounced tendency to produce more heat than light.

Third, these institutes, in their o w n separate ways, concentrate on problems of development at two interrelated levels. In the first place, of course, they are involved in problems on a global (i.e., in this case, all-India or India-wide) scale in the fields of planning, resource mobilization, energy conservation and use, industrialization, rural development, agricultural production, etc. In the second place, and more important, they also tend to concentrate on local problems centred in the states, districts and villages within them, and often in the states of the region in which they are situated.

Their task is threefold in this latter respect: gathering raw data and storing them, as well as making them available to those interested in research within the region or outside; undertaking policy-orientated studies in an academic setting, either at the request of appropriate state or central government bodies or both, and generating their o w n research programmes linking the needs of the region with the needs of the country as a whole, comparing different regions or sub-

688 T. V. Sathyamiirthy

regions, and providing links of understanding encompassing the different aspects (and not merely a particular one defined narrowly in terms of a single discipline) of the specific problems with which they m a y be concerned at a given time.

Thus, M I D S has become, over the last decade or so, a very advanced data bank giving an up-to-date account of the political economy of Tamil N a d u (within an all-India setting) through its monthly Bulletin. C D S and I S E C have produced a vast quantity of literature covering different aspects of the political economy and sociology of Kerala and Karnataka.

Mention should also be m a d e of the rather fewer occasions on which members of these institutes undertake research commissions—jointly as well as individually— from such international bodies as the Economic and Social Commission for Asia and the Pacific ( E S C Á P ) , the International Labour Organisation (ILO), the World Health O r ganization ( W H O ) and the Food and Agriculture Organization ( F A O ) (but not, it m a y be added, generally, from the International B a n k for Reconstruction and Development ( I B R D ) and the International Monetary Fund (IMF). In no centre has this aspect of the work been given more than minor or secondary importance to the task of generating an even flow of information and knowledge about the problems of economic development and social change of the region in particular and India in general. Consultancy work on an international (developed country) scale is not usually considered to be a socially useful way of utilizing scarce academic skills. Academic researchers in the field of development w h o have a tendency to deploy their skills in this direction to a disproportionate extent often forfeit the respect of their colleagues.

Lastly, attention must be drawn to the style of functioning of these centres of advanced study and research. T o be sure, each has its o w n idiosyncracies and academic folkways and mores, not to speak of values generated over a period of time. Yet certain c o m m o n characteristics can be gleaned even

from a cursory observation of their functioning. These centres attach a great deal of value to their autonomy and intellectual freed o m which they have no wish to compromise, either by too great an involvement in the affairs of the state or central government, or by becoming enmeshed in too close a relationship with the local university or other institutions of higher learning.

They are indeed jealous of their professional and research time, which they are commendably keen to put to the best possible use. This applies both to individual researchers on the staff of these centres as well as to these institutions in a collective sense. A spirit of dedication is universally to be found in these centres. At the same time, it must be pointed out that there is a great deal of variation of style in their internal functioning, and in the relationships that prevail within them between staff and students, among staff members on different levels of seniority, or between academic and non-academic (e.g. karmacharis) staff.

Over the past decade or so, these centres and especially their senior scholars have been in great d e m a n d as advisers, consultants and members of government committees of inquiry, both at the centre and in various state governments. The amounts of advisory and policy assistance expected is far out of proportion to the time scholars are able to spare from their teaching and research responsibilities and obligations, which have to be carried out in an institutional setting with fairly limited infrastructural facilities (by international standards).

The general atmosphere of stimulation for development research provided by these centres coincided with the interests shown by I C S S R in encouraging the establishment of a string of such institutes of higher learning and research specifically devoted to the study of social sciences. At the same time, there was • a growing feeling in the minds of a number of social scientists and politicians that, in a country divided by language and culture on the one hand, and, on the other, by problems engendered in its uneven economic develop-

Development research and lhe social sciences in India 689

ment, centres of scientific research on problems of political, economic and social development, set up in different parts of the country, would represent a unifying influence. Although such thinking never really gained sufficient force, the impetus for the emergence of a large number of centres of development and social science studies, funded in most cases on a fifty-fifty basis by I C S S R and the state government, was indeed considerable.

Certain state-level political leaders as well as social science academics teaching in universities in state capitals perceived the need for social and economic research devoted to problems at the state level and below. Anugraha Narayan Sinha, a former Chief Minister of Bihar, was one such. The first centre for development research to be started on the initiative of a state government was the A . N . Sinha Institute of Social Studies (ANSISS) , Patna, founded in 1964. In the neighbouring state of Uttar Pradesh, a similar institute, named after Gobind Ballabh Pant (the first Chief Minister after independence), was established sixteen years later in Allahabad. There are several other institutes of similar provenance by n o w which owe their origin to the initiative and financial encouragement of state governments.

A N S I S S , as a typical product of the 1960s, started with a rather heavy emphasis on economic research. It has been influenced by the interests of sociologists and political scientists as well as academics engaged in labour and agrarian studies at Patna University. In recent years, A N S I S S has undertaken a number of projects embracing political sociology and political economy as well as research focusing on the economic social and political conditions of the tribal peoples of Bihar.

G B P S S I , a m u c h younger centre, was conceived and founded at a time when interdisciplinary social science was very m u c h in vogue and the dominance of economics among the social sciences was no longer axio-matically or universally accepted. A m b a Datt Pant, its founding director, is a political

scientist and teacher with à fine reputation at Allahabad University for nearly three decades. Within a brief span, he has been able to gather a varied group of scholars drawn from the neighbouring disciplines of sociology, political science, economics and geography.

G B P S S I , like similar institutes in India, does face certain problems. First, the fluctuation of political power within the state, between the different factions of Congress (I) as well as between the Congress Party and the Janata/Lok Dal combinations, has imparted a degree of uncertainty to the prospects of (if not sometimes an altogether destabilizing effect on) such institutions, dependent as they are on the financial support of the state government. T o some degree, this has been offset by the I C S S R providing 50 per cent of the annual running cost in the form of recurring grants. But there is no denying that these institutions are vulnerable to the pressures and counter-pressures of state politics.17

Second, bringing together very senior and quite young social scientists researching in different disciplines can sometimes be difficult to handle. The generation gap in a setting in which hierarchical social relations are invariably carried into the work-place inhibits free exchange or communication between the two sides, each having certain preconceptions about the other which it finds difficult to shed. T o this must be added the problems created by disciplinary insularity of which certain older specialists are readier victims than some younger ones. T h e result of such tensions tends to be a dilution of that interdisciplinary orientation which is so important a founding premiss.

A slightly different subgroup of centres is constituted by those that start from a specific disciplinary orientation other than economics and m o v e from there into the recesses of interdisciplinary work. A n example is the Centre for Studies in Social Sciences (CSSS) at Calcutta, started by a group of economic and social historians about ten years ago. They strongly felt that history was an important social science and held the key to a


scientific understanding of the background to the current problems of development. During his ten-year stint as CSSS's first director, Barun D e , a well-known historian, strengthened the historical side of the work of the centre with the help of a number of colleagues already well k n o w n for their contributions to the economic and social history of Bengal and the north-eastern part of India.

T o this team was added A m i y a K u m a r Bagchi, one of India's most distinguished economists, w h o cheerfully abandoned the temptations of international jet-setting and academic power-wielding as professor of economics at the University of Calcutta to bec o m e a Fellow at C S S S . His role in promoting, leading and picking up cues for further work from younger researchers and, above all, in keeping the level of research at the centre both academically unimpeachable and socially and politically appropriate to India's problems, cannot be exaggerated. H e is indeed a m e m b e r of that rare species of scholars w h o are able to combine an excellent knowledge of their o w n subjects with a penetrating insight into the core concerns of other social science disciplines.18

T h e Centre for Social Studies (CSS) at Surat in South Gujarat is an institute of very long standing started by I. P . Desai, a sociologist of high repute.19 His total dedication enabled the centre to develop into a powerhouse for the generation of academic knowledge concerning Gujarat, one of the most dynamic and economically advanced states of India. A s a sociologist with sympathy for the condition of the poor and oppressed, he has been able to stimulate research to highlight the oppression and social relations of dominance to which agricultural labour, migrant workers, urban industrial workers, w o m e n , tribal peoples and backward communities as well as communal minorities are subject.

After I. P . Desai's retirement, C S S came under the direction of Ghanshyam Shah, a young sociologist with an excellent record of empirical and field research, especially in the states of Gujarat and Bihar. C S S has m a d e an effort, in recent years, to broaden even

further its disciplinary scope by recruiting social scientists from anthropology, political science, education, • economics and women' s studies. T h e Giri Institute of Development Studies ( G I D S ) at Lucknow was founded in 1973 and attained national status in 1977, headed by T . S. Papóla, originally an economist but whose formative years were spent át IIM (Ahmedabad) . Before his arrival in Lucknow, the institute had virtually been the research arm of the Department of Economics of the University of Lucknow but had a far-sighted approach to interdisciplinary research in development studies from as far back as the 1950s.

At G I D S , a number of economists, sociologists, anthropologists and political scientists are engaged in a joint study of Uttar Pradesh's agarian problems with special reference to the poorer areas in its eastern parts, the districts of the Terai region, and the poorer sections of the areas covered by the Green Revolution. G I D S is indeed an example of a centre which,- between 1973 and 1977, when it graduated from transitional to national status, showed its capability of successfully ramifying its previous orientation towards economics to include other social sciences. This was a particularly sensitive period both in national and in Uttar Pradesh politics. Immediately after the Emergency (1975-77), both the n e w Janata Government at the centre and its counterpart in the state were suspicious of the credentials of G I D S , not being altogether happy with institutions that had enjoyed the patronage of previous . Congress regimes.-

T h e fact that the newly appointed director had had no close political association with the Congress, as well as the encouragement provided by • senior Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers of a scholarly disposition and with intellectual interests which n o w enjoys an eviable position as a generator of reliable sociological, economic and political data relating to different levels in the state.

O u r last example of centres, starting with disciplinary commitments somewhat different

The Observatory of Jaipur, dating from 1740. H . Cartier-Bresson/Magnum.

This was quite unnecessary in view of the fact that, by the late 1970s, India had accumulated the rich and varied experience of setting up sound indigenously conceived institutions of this kind with excellent results, from which fledgling institutes and centres could easily derive the inspiration they needed.

Second, after C S D S (which was founded nearly twenty years prior to the establishment of the IDSJ) , this was the first development research institute to be started on a disciplinary base provided by political science. Inter-disciplinarity at IDSJ has certain characteristics that stem from this fact alone. Like C S D S , IDSJ is not likely to engage in research on problems relating to the Indian political economy; but it does have an interest in interdisciplinary work involving problems of environment, energy and science policy questions, and in the field of administration.

O n paper, however, the commitment of IDSJ to interdisciplinary research is far more wide-ranging in character,.though, from the

from the first three, is the Institute of Development Studies in Jaipur (IDSJ). The moving spirit behind its establishment in 1980 was Professor S. P . V a r m a , a highly respected political scientist whose long association with the University of Rajasthan led to IDSJ being located in the sprawling premises of the former. But it is an autonomous research institute set up with the help of the government of the state of Rajasthan and I C S S R in equal proportions in the same manner as similar institutions in a number of other states.20

T w o interesting features relating to the origin of IDSJ deserve to be noted: First, it is consciously modelled on similar institutes in the Western world. A s its founding document 2 1 makes clear, it traces its establishment back to a blueprint that a Canadian visiting scholar (who happens to be of Indian origin) prepared at the request of both the Honorary Director-Designate of IDSJ and the Vice-Chancellor of the University of Rajasthan.


w a y this is phrased, it is by no means clear whether what is intended is bringing different disciplines to focus on a set of problems, or making institutional r o o m at IDSJ available for a n u m b e r of disciplines in order to enable them 'to do their o w n different things'.22

IDSJ, being still in a formative stage, has yet to prove its mettle, but there is no reason to doubt that it will, in its o w n way, m a k e significant additions to our knowledge of India's development problems in general and Rajasthan's in particular.

T h e era of expansion of social science; and development research is perhaps rapidly drawing to a close. During the next few years, with at least one such centre based in each state and funded by both the central and state governments, the main task will be to consolidate by producing research work and generating data likely to be useful to policy-makers and social activists. S o m e adjustments m a y well be required such as a shift from rigid academic approaches to more supple policy-orientated approaches, or a m o v e away from data-gathering to problem-solving, or a change of methodological focus from hard empiricism to theorizing or vice versa, or a variation of interdisciplinary strategy in order to solve n e w problems that confront researchers in the course of their work.

Research centres devoted to 'alternative' studies of development

T h e strengthening of state power in India (as indeed in the Third World countries as a whole) during the last two decades, and the increasing remoteness of left-wing alternatives to the populist politics of the day, have acted as a stimulus to thinking in certain quarters about a serious, indigenously based alternative path of development. T h e enormity of the power wielded by the state is seen as directly related to the policies of modernization; rapid industrialization and government policies aimed at supporting industry in favour of agriculture, mechanized agriculture in favour of labour-intensive agriculture, and large

technological innovations at the cost of indigenous crafts and small industries.

Hitherto, the demand for fundamental structural transformations to put the people at the centre of the political process and democratizing decision-making by increased political participation at all levels in an essentially decentralized polity, has been voiced only by parties on the left of the political spectrum.

In recent years, however, the initiative for this kind of thinking and action has c o m e from grass-roots organizations in different parts of the country, often starting as energetic campaigns in respect of specific issues, such as environmental questions, campaigns against deforestation as in the chipco m o v e ment, questions relating to agricultural labour conditions in specific areas where the stranglehold of caste manifests itself with undue severity, the w o m e n ' s health m o v e ment in rural Maharashtra, issues affecting the living conditions and social oppression of tribal people or the conditions of urban slum dwellers.

At the same time, such thinking is also reflected in the distinction that some of the aid donors m a k e between aid so packaged as to reach the beneficiaries direct and aid channelled through governments. Implicit in this general orientation is a distrust of the countries of the North and, in particular, Western countries which are widely believed to have stayed the hand of progress by their policies of encouraging military dictatorships and repressive anti-democratic and counterrevolutionary regimes in a number of poor countries.

Unfortunately, however, not all of this n e w awakening in the form of 'micro' as well as 'large-scale' popular movements points in a progressive or democratic direction. A s one observer has pointed out, massive disillusionment of the kind experienced over the past two decades in a number of poor countries, instead of leading to changes in a more democratic direction,

m a y breed retrogressive movements that tend to


push these societies towards attempts at reviving the dark periods in their history, or movements that feed on the newer and much darker shades of chauvinist and fascist assertions. Both types of movement are in fact emerging today.23

The Indian scene has already begun to absorb this new tendency to think outside the frame of reference of the more conventional approaches as yet another dimension of institutionalized social science research, under the broad rubric of 'alternative approaches to development'. The key to the evolution of this particular feature of study and research lies in the involvement of intellectuals and activist workers in research focusing on social and economic problems at different levels. Already, C S D S has accumulated several years of experience of this kind of work in its project known as Lokayan.24

Member s of the Lokayan project have, over the last four years or so, undertaken a kind of social science research equivalent of padayatra25 with the express purpose of identifying the various efforts that have been initiated in 'alternative development' at the grass roots in various parts of the country. Its aim is to change 'the existing paradigm of social knowledge and its use'. In order to work towards the creation of new paradigms, the researchers engaged in Lokayan, led by Rajnai Kothari, have identified 'action groups and micro movements and the key participants of these processes' w h o are then brought together 'in dialogues among themselves, as well as with intellectuals, journalists, and when possible, even concerned public officials'.26

Given the fact that such projects as Lokayan are still oriented towards 'opinion makers' and 'trend setters' in the local areas, it is difficult to avoid a degree of scepticism that, in the final analysis, the emphasis in this approach m a y not have been shifted away from local power-holders (or those beholden to them) and élites in the direction of the voice of true democracy, to a sufficient extent. It m a y really turn out to be old wine in new bottles.

In a number of institutes of research, Gandhian ideas are more or less systematically pursued within the disciplines of the social sciences, while, in a few, far greater energy is expended on elaborating and deepening Gandhi's thoughts and beliefs in the development especially suited to rural Indian conditions.

The Gandhi Peace Foundation ( G P F ) , with its headquarters in Delhi, has been engaged in giving Gandhism an international focus in addition to encouraging work on it bearing upon domestic problems. A third type of institute engaged in Gandhian studies is devoted almost entirely to rural development (e.g. Gandhigram Rural Institute of Higher Education).27

T h e Gandhian Institute of Studies at Varanasi (GISV) is perhaps the, most high-powered research institute engaged in social science research, as it is commonly understood, using Gandhian methods and paradigms in a critical and sensitive manner. O n e of the projects, for example, makes an interesting differentiation between two mutually contradictory strands of Indian political, social and economic, as well as scientific, experience— one based on a conscious act of withdrawal from the colonial value structure, and the other based on willing incorporation into it—both of which run through the political experience of the nationalist and anti-colonial movement in all their phases and have persisted throughout the period since independence.

In the work carried out at G I S V , an awareness is shown of other theoretical positions besides Gandhi's ideas—positions originating in the West as well as elsewhere —with a view to subjecting Gandhism to a general critique, and not simply to putting it forward as a panacea for India's problems. Such institutes receive support from the government in one form or other, G I S V itself being recognized and funded by the ICSSR.


Conclusion

In both their qualitative and quantitative dimensions, interest on the part of India's social scientists in the complex endeavour of improving the living conditions of the most disadvantaged sections of society has paid s o m e important dividends, not least the enorm o u s push given by a sense of commitment on the part of large numbers of them to sociopolitical goals as well as to intellectual rigour of analysis, fact-finding, data-gathering and generalizing on a sound basis.

Yet it would be folly to ignore that, in certain spheres of research and higher learning at any rate, some hard lessons have had to be learnt. Thus , for example, in the field of technological education, two questions are often raised in attempts at reappraisal of the nature and scope of IITs. H a s the expansion occurred too fast for the infrastructure of technological education to cope with the pressures generated by numbers as well as by the rapid strides m a d e in the field internally? Further, is it too far in advance of the rate of technological development of the country as a whole? There is some truth in the view advanced by critics of IITs that higher technological education has developed in a lopsided manner so that Indian industry has not been able to m a k e the best use of the graduates of these institutions. Lastly, has the rapid expansion of such a rarefied field in a political atmosphere of hierarchical and bureaucratic

rigidity not tended to induce a premature ossification of the system as a whole, given the enormous initial advantages with which it started?28

In social science research, the main factor of interest is that the political system as a whole is undergoing a crisis of confidence, one of the main characteristics of which is to put the long-term future of the institutional structures through which state power is exercised in some doubt. Under these circumstances, it is difficult for active social science and development-oriented researchers, w h o have been nurtured in a relatively stable atmosphere, to become suddenly aware of the demands of a system in the throes of change, the precise directions of which it is as yet difficult to predict.

Even so, there is a vanguard a m o n g social scientists and policy analysts in socioeconomic and political development which is well placed to experiment with different kinds of possible scenarios to which political changes involving different kinds of tensions and the need to resolve acute social and economic contradictions could possibly give rise in the next quarter of a century. T o give a rough estimate, if even 20 per cent of the total n u m b e r of researchers in the different social science fields are tuned in to these problems, the investment of financial resources and h u m a n talent will have been worth while. O u r assessment would point to India as a whole having achieved such a target.


Notes

1. A s , for example, the links between social science research and public policy, which were examined in a controversial paper some years ago by M y r o n Wiener. See his 'Social Science Research and Public Policy in India' (in two parts), The Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. X I V , Nos . 37 and 38 (15 and 22 September 1979), pp. 1579-87; and pp. 1622-8. For controversial correspondence on it, see ibid., Vol. X I V , 1979, p. 2029, and Vol. X V , 1980, p. 49.

2. It is interesting that, during this period, economists focusing attention on agricultural problems in a big way tended to be of foreign extraction, or Indians w h o happened to be orientated to economic history as their main discipline (e.g. Daniel Thorner; Irfan Habib).

3. It must, however, be pointed out that, despite odds, there seemed to be a determined though small corps of teachers and researchers in most universities w h o were able to carry out work of a high standard and reliable quality.

4. This reached particularly acute proportions in 1967, when , for the first time, the CIA's involvement in social science research activities throughout the Third World was admitted to in Washington, D . C . , in the wake of an international scandal that broke out around a social science research project in Chile code-named 'Camelot'.

5. There are indeed very few instances of research institutes in the social sciences in India that were started with foreign resources. Another example of American-financed institution of higher study and research is the Centre of South Asian Studies of the University

of Rajasthan. Over a period of time, such institutions have come under complete financing from Indian sources, usually by means of annual recurring grants given by I C S S R . It is quite another point, however, that I C S S R itself is a recipient of resources of foreign provenance, but since it is a body responsible to the central government which in turn is responsible to Parliament, this is a problem of a quite different order.̂ It is true that, for nearly two decades n o w , no institution of higher learning in India has been allowed to raise financial resources directly from abroad.

6. Founded in 1958, N I C D was the first organized research body to collect an impressive range of raw data of all sorts from the whole of rural India. Its Directors of Sociology and Political. Science, during the 1960s, travelled throughout the length and breadth of the country, solely with a view to mapping out the social and political forces in the countryside with the aid of data derived from direct observation.

7. Indian social scientists, including a sizeable proportion of those employed in N I C D , deeply resented the fact that a foreign university (and American at that) had access to sensitive data on India. Given the fierce independence of social scientists in such matters, and a general tendency on their part to be wary of American academia, the then Food Minister's brazen policy of sharing (or rather giving away) information in this manner was widely criticized.

8. A sizeable proportion of social science scholars w h o have gone to American universities (especially in the post-1960 period) were either already 'left-

orientated' before leaving India, or, have returned from their American experience rather less sympathetic to 'functionalism', 'positivism', 'behaviourism' or 'number crunching' of most descriptions.

9. Jawaharlal Nehru University differs from other longer established national or central universities—Benares, Aligarh, Santiniketan, and Jamia Milia—in one essential respect. The latter are based essentially on undergraduate training with postgraduate education and research added to it, while the former, as has already been indicated, has no undergraduate departments (except in the field of foreign languages).

10. The founding director, the art historian N . R . R a y was succeeded by S. C . D u b e , a social anthropologist. It is worth noting that a characteristic feature of the H A S has been to give less importance to economics than to the other social sciences. Apart from the social sciences and history, culture, archaeology, linguistics, and philosophy seem to have claimed a good deal of attention. In fact, D u b e was succeeded by B . B . Lai, a well-k n o w n archaeologist, w h o is at present holding the fort as caretaker-director, pending the restructuring of the institute.

11. This categorization does not, of course, include a whole host of institutions that are directly or indirectly concerned with development-orientated research, but in such highly specialized and exclusive contexts as labour union research, productivity research, pollution research, research relating to Antyodaya, which is a homespun term for alternative development steering clear of

696 T. V. Sathyamurlhy

modernization in both the Western and the socialist senses. It gained wide currency in India during the Janata regime.

12. It should be noted that, henceforth, Centres for Development Studies and Centres for Social Science Research or Studies will be used interchangeably in the text, because, in both of these, the same kind of activity takes place.

13. M . S. R a n d h a w a was a senior ICS officer w h o was sympathetic to rich farmers and highly knowledgeable about practical agriculture. M . S. Swaminathan is a scientist w h o recently resigned from the Planning Commission in order to take up the directorship of the International Rice Research Institute in Manila. Before joining the Indian Council- of Agriculture Research in Pusa, he had had a long scientific and research career as a scientist and subsequently as the director of the Indian Rice Research Institute in Bhubaneswar.

14. There are, however, a few Naxalite sympathizers both a m o n g students and a m o n g staff in some of the agricultural universities. These pockets of left-wing sympathy become activated from time to time, w h e n there is some glaring injustice that needs to be fought, or, on occasions when the authorities adopt an attitude of arrogance or complacency or patronizing indifference to elementary demands concerning working conditions, learning conditions, food in the hostels, etc. In the agricultural universities in the Punjab at the present time, for example, there is a considerable degree of political activity, not all of which by any manner of means Naxalite in nature, that is directed against the centre's policy, on the Punjab crisis.

15. I have c o m e across several commendable examples of such teachers and researchers w h o , by dint of their commitment, have been able to amass a wealth of research material germane to an understanding of the character of exploitation suffered by the Indian peasantry in a number of different parts of the country.

16. Until the mid-1950s, that is, for nearly ten years since India's independence, IAS probationers used to be given their initial general training at Metcalfe House in Civil Lines, Delhi, where they were turned into little sahibs w h o were expected to maintain the traditions of their ICS forbears when they went to their subdivisions and districts. T h e m e n in charge of the training, needless to say, were, during this period, senior members of ICS. It must, in fairness, be added that a good proportion of officers trained in this manner have subsequently sloughed off the cultural 'whitewash' to which their training at Metcalfe House subjected them, in order to become sensitive discerners of Indian problems, if not exactly true servants of the Indian people.

17. At the time of this writing, G B P S S I , which is housed in temporary accommodation, is trying hard to persuade the government to part with the m o n e y already committed for building n e w premises into which its expanding staff could m o v e . Constant trips to Lucknow to get the ministers to agree to release funds, already committed long since, is quite wasteful, for the effort involved in making frequent crosscountry trips to the state capital is great. IDSJ is experiencing similar problems with the government of Rajasthan, though its good fortune consists in its being situated in Jaipur

itself (which happens to be the seat of the Government of Rajasthan). There is no intention to suggest any bad motive on the part of the governments concerned, but these examples are given merely to point out the bureaucratic bottle-necks that stand in the way of quick and effective translation of promises into concrete results before it becomes too late.

18. A m o n g the m a n y projects in which Professor Bagchi is involved is a history of the State Bank of India (SBI), commissioned by the authorities of the bank, the first volume of which has already been completed. There is little doubt that Bagchi's history of SBI will

•become an important source material for a study of contemporary India's economic and banking history.

19. I. P . Desai received his training in Pune where he studied sociology and anthropology under G . S. Ghurye and Iravati Karve, w h o were highly respected not only for their learning but also for their radical brand of political liberalism.

20. Under the sixth Five Year Plan, Orissa was to have its o w n Social Science Research Institute at Bhubaneswar in 1978/79, and Assam was to follow suit. T h e Lalit Narayan Mishra Institute of Social Sciences ( L N M I S S ) , named after the former Union Railway Minister w h o was killed in 1974 at Samastipur, was set up by the Government of Bihar at Patna, mainly as a result of the efforts of his brother, D r Jagannath Mishra, w h o was Chief Minister of Bihar during the Emergency, and again during the period 1980-83.

21. This document is entitled Institute of Development Studies, Jaipur: Genesis and Growth of


an Idea. It was written by Professor S. P . V a r m a and published in Jaipur towards the end of 1981 or the beginning of 1982.

22. See, for example, the following passage: 'Professor • Somjee was requested to prepare a note on the Institute, and it was on the basis of that note that Professor S. P.' V a r m a drew up a proposal for the setting up of the Institute of Development Studies. [The institute] while confining itself mainly to social, economic, cultural and political problems, would, it was envisaged, be able to take up problems of research transcending social sciences' [emphasis added] Ibid., pp. 7-8.

23. D . L . Sheth, 'Grass-Roots Stirrings and the Future of Polities', Alternatives, Vol. IX, 1983, pp. 1-24 (p. 8).

24. Lokayan (of Sanskrit derivation), literally means, 'people's movements' , i.e. movements o /and by the people for the people. Sheth refers to the project as being 'action cum research' in kind, and describes it as operating 'at the interface of social knowledge and social institutions, of academic institutions and activist groups'. Ibid., p. 11.

25. Padayatra is a special term used to refer to political leaders in quest of the social truth or political reality, by going out on their o w n two feet throughout the length and breadth of the country on a fact-finding walking tour. The most recent political figure to undertake such a padayatra (1983) was Chandra Sekhar, the Janata party leader. In their times, Gandhi and Vinoba Bhave, the 'Sage Paunar' (d. 1982), used to undertake periodic padayatras.

26. Sheth, op. cit., p. 11.

27. The inspiration for this originally came from the Bhoodan movement , which was started by Vinoba Bhave not long after independence. T h e movement itself was not successful, but the various institutes of rural studies spawned as vehicles for the propagation of Gandhi's ideas on rural development and cooperation have been functioning without interruption.

28. For a recent critical evaluation of the work of research institutions in the sphere of agricultural economics, see a report entitled 'Agricultural Research: Decline of Agro-Economic Research Centres' (by a special correspondent), The Economic and Political Weekly, Vol. XVIII, N o . 23, 4 June 1983, pp. 993-6.

Regional science: evolution over thirty years

G. B. Benko

The essentials of regional science: an attempt at a definition

Regional science is perhaps the newest branch of social science. It owes its existence to the m a n y problems that could not be adequately dealt with by the traditional methods of social science. With the introduction of this n e w science, existing lines of research are the richer for m a n y theories, techniques and concepts.

Regional science is a discipline situated at the crossroads where economics, geography, sociology, political science and anthropology meet. Its main subject of study is h u m a n intervention on the terrain. T h e descriptions given by engineers, geologists, meteorologists or biologists are of scant relevance to regional science, but it makes use of them if need be. A research worker or practical user of this discipline takes a more quantitative view; he shows interest in population distribution, the location of activities, environmental pollution, tourism, urban development, etc.

In short, regional science is by nature a science of synthesis: from the analytical data supplied by various specialists it is possible to deduce, from among the aggregate specific

G . B . Benko is a researcher at the Centre for Spatial Research and Analysis (University of Paris I— C N R S ) and the author of studies on regional development and urban geography.

cases presented by the region, certain basic laws concerning the distribution of activities.

A t the centre of gravity of regional science w e find economics and, m o r e particularly, a specialized branch k n o w n as spatial economics, which is mainly concerned with the location of economic activities, the spatial behaviour of firms, territorial accounts, etc. T h e spatial economists felt at a disadvantage a m o n g their colleagues and, in order to lend

greater weight to their concerns, broke away from general economics to form a separate m o v e ment. In their studies, they turned to mathematics and econometrics to test the hypotheses advanced.

Along with the economists, the geographers are the most closely concerned with regional study inasmuch as h u m a n geography by definition describes and

explains the distribution of h u m a n beings, their actions and their works on the surface of the earth (Claval, 1984). A t the time when regional science emerged, geography was radically changing; the old methods developed by the various national schools no longer satisfied the researchers' curiosity. In the 1950s the research workers set about developing the n e w instruments they needed in order to meet the n e w social demands. In the post-

700 G. B. Benko

war period, economic and population growth was strong and there was an increasing need for land-use planning and for control of urban development. Towards the 1970s changing economic and social conditions brought a more insistent demand for pollution control, energy conservation, environmental protection, social balance and, in general, environmental management and planning: a field that was invaded by the geographers in connection both with economic and with social problems.

F r o m the standpoint of sociology—which studies social reality and h u m a n action in different social and physical settings—as from the standpoint of economics and political science, the physical environment and the spatial prospect are minor considerations. F r o m the standpoint of regional science, on the other hand, knowledge and understanding of the objectives, goals and interests of different social groups situated at different points in space are priority concerns. Thus the study of family life, of relationships between individuals and between social groups, and of social classes provides the data needed for the examination of societies as a whole. It is essential to understand the aims and values of different social groups in the various regions of the world and to follow their development and their approaches to regional problems if w e are to find the means of attaining social objectives and settling social conflicts. Thus regional science has m a d e a great contribution to economic development; on the social plane, on the other hand, it contributed nothing, at least in its early days, and so far as the environment is concerned, it m a y even be said to have been destructive. A s w e k n o w from wide experience, economic development cannot be set in motion without a knowledge of the social and physical environment.

A s to anthropology, a distinction must be drawn between physical anthropology, which is concerned with the biological factors affecting the h u m a n being and his relationship to his physical environment, and cultural anthropology, which studies vanishing societies and cultures, and, above all, the unidentified

elements of social life by identifying the geographical distribution of peoples and cultures throughout the world. Anthropology has greatly influenced the development of postwar social sciences, contributing both theoretically and empirically to the building of development policy models, especially in the Third World, and to the preparation of economic and social plans in which regional science plays a dominant role.

Political science provides administrative and legislative support for the implementation of regional development. The mid-twentieth century brought a new awareness of regional disparities in development, with the result that town and country planning (which can also be termed regional planning or spatial organization, and which is a political and economic development of space) is a concern c o m m o n to all industrialized or developing countries. T h e United Nations and its Specialized Agencies are making efforts to promote the economic and social advancement of economically weak countries whose inhabitants live under precarious conditions. Even in the most advanced countries, economic growth is unevenly distributed in space, resulting in regional disparities and inequalities. This has attracted the attention of economists and politicians, w h o are trying to reduce the imbalance using the instruments of regional science.

A s w e have just seen, the difficulty of defining this discipline stems from its c o m plexity; there are almost as m a n y definitions as there are researchers. Walter Isard, in his Introduction to Regional Science (1975), gives thirteen definitions. B y comparison with earlier publications, which put economic considerations first, relatively recent descriptions tend to focus on the environment, ecology and m a n ; hence the following summary definition: 'in brief, regional science as a discipline concerns the careful and patient study of social problems with regional or spatial dimensions, employing diverse combinations of analytical and empirical research'.

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The historical foundations and birth of regional science

T h e earliest origins of regional science go back to van Thiinen, w h o published Der isolierte Staat in 1826. Its true precursors were economists and geographers like August Lösch and Walter Christaller, w h o showed interest in problems connected with the location of activities. Their theoretical models represent what is termed central-place theory. A t the beginning of the century, space was a variable u n k n o w n to or neglected by the world of science, and of economics in particular. Only the geographers, by vocation, formed an exception to the rule; beginning in the nineteenth century, they developed the concept of the region that was later to serve as a framework for m a n y spatial studies. F r o m the 1930s onwards, research became more systematic; it progressed from sectoral analyses—agriculture, industry, trade, tertiary activities in general—to the general schema of the spatial balance of the system: a schema established by Lösch which constituted the unifying concept for specific models and also served as the link with general economic theory. During this period the Germans and Scandinavians in particular emerged as the pioneers. In the United States Edgar Hoover (1948) broke n e w ground in the field of transport costs and devised a general theory of the 'margin line' as a factor in enterprise location. During the war years, territorial accounting techniques m a d e progress and were brought into use in regions and cities. Various models were built to measure migratory movements of population and areas capable of attracting commercial activity; the gravity model m a d e its appearance; and the notion or urban hierarchy, Zipfs rank-size rule (1949) and the density-distance relationship came into increasing use. The first stages in urban analysis were past.

Walter Isard, an economist by training, remains a major influence to this day. His works are grounded in Keynesian economics. H e s u m m e d up the work of his predecessors, introducing n e w ideas and drawing upon

different schools of thought; and he gave n e w impetus to the multiplier theory—a trail blazed by H o m e r Hoyt (1933), one of the founders or urban economics, w h o applied the multiplier concept in 1937. Isard was quick to provide regional analysis with an essential tool for use in theoretical discussions and practical applications alike.

During the post-war period of economic expansion this teaching was of great social value. Furthermore Isard had no difficulty in bringing together researchers and decisionmakers from different walks of life in a n e w association aimed at facilitating the spread of knowledge. In December 1954, the Regional Science Association was established and held its first meeting. T h e expression 'regional science' has been in regular use ever since. The association, which is international, has set itself scientific objectives which it approaches along economic, social and political lines.

In some respects, Isard's approach to this n e w discipline resembles Auguste Comte's approach to sociology. C o m t e believed that scientific thought would continue to evolve until it reached what he called 'a positive stage' marking the culminating point of scientific evolution. Comte m a d e use of the idea that the knowledge embodied in different sciences was unified and correlative, and he assumed that the different strands of scientific thought would ultimately converge in a positive sociology. H e obviously overestimated the capacity of scientists for keeping abreast of the latest developments in all fields of thought. H e believed, for the distant future, in a single unified science. Similarly, at the beginning, Isard and his followers regarded regional science, not as an interdisciplinary activity, but as a n e w , unified discipline. •

Growing attention was paid to this branch of science. Annual symposia have been held regularly in Europe since 1961, and since then other regions of the world have followed suit. Associations have been founded one after another: in France, on the initiative of Jacques Boudeville and François Perroux with Isard's support; in Scandinavia, Japan,


Contrasted uses of space. Opposite: an urbanized countryside. Magnum. Above: a bit of countryside in an urban setting. Magnum.

entity such that it is possible to describe natural and h u m a n phenomena , to analyse socio-economic data and to apply a policy. It is based on two principal features—homogeneity and functional integration—and culminates in a sense of practical solidarity and in relations of interdependence with other regional aggregates and with national and international space.

Studies o n the regional development process began in France with Claude Ponsard (1955, 1958) w h o , in neo-classical vein, started by reviewing the work already done; at the s a m e time he broke n e w ground by constructing mathematical spaces to correspond to economic spaces. In the mid-1950s François Perroux (1955) invented both the term and the theory of polarisation, which gave n e w impetus to research and marked the starting-point for original thinking in French in this field. T h e notion of the région polarisée or nodal region, defined as a 'heterogeneous space w h o s e various parts are mutually complementary and maintain m o r e exchanges

; with one another, and particularly with the dominant nodes, than with the neighbouring region', strongly influenced spatial thinking and town-and-country planning alike.

Since the early 1950s the developing countries have engaged the attention of the theorists, w h o have looked into the difficulties experienced by enterprises in those countries. Their failure to function properly has to d o with external e c o n o m y . T h e first to explore the problem and propose remedies were Ragnar Nurkse (1953) and Albert O . Hirsch-m a n (1958), w h o suggested that investment

- should be m a d e in strategic sectors in order to achieve rapid and lasting growth and to benefit from ; external economies. T h e first analyses m a d e of this p h e n o m e n o n , b y Alfred Marshall, were taken further by M e a d and Scitovsky (1954), and Balassa (1962) e x a m ined the question of economic integration.

T h e techniques of spatial analysis evolved rapidly in the 1950s and 1960s. T h e widest field of study w a s that of m e s o - and macro-


the United Kingdom, the Federal Republic of Germany , Hungary and Latin America, and, more recently, on other continents.

Initially this new science was taught in traditional departments such as those of economics and geography; then specific courses in regional science as such began to be offered, especially at the higher educational level. M o r e than thirty specialized journals and various collections on regional science topics appear every year.

T h e research worker practising this discipline is not an active planner but an analyst w h o makes a critical approach to present-day problems, formulates hypotheses and verifies them, drawing conclusions and submitting recommendations; he thus plays a key role in the decision-making process. The second phase of regional action is in the hands of decision-makers, w h o usher in the stage of 'town-and-country planning' or 'regional planning', which is known as aménagement du

territoire or planification régionale in French, as Raumordnung in G e r m a n and as piani-

ficazione territoriale in Italian. The purpose of town-and-country planning is to define the operational concepts and major political options through which the organization of land use and of national space becomes a reality.

The main schools of thought

After the concept of space was introduced into economic theory at the turn of the century, regional science—that concerted synthesis—gave fresh impetus to studies working this vein. They were spurred by a shared interest in 'the spatial dimension of life' and were conducted in a n e w spirit whose first discoveries lay in the maze-like interdependence of regions (Isard, 1960):

r This maze interlaces interregional systems of populations, resource patterns, industrial locations, local economies, social accounts, balance of payments positions, markets, central places and urban-metropolitan areas, administrative and political structures and institutions, and

even values, motives and social goals. It interlaces all these systems via interregional systems of interindustry (interactivity) linkage, of commodity flows and money flows, of population movements, and of communications, and, in general, of socio-cultural interaction inclusive of decision-making processes.

Research to clarify the concept of the region goes back a very long way . In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the geographers in particular displayed great curiosity about this problem; from the 1950s onwards, the economists and political scientists ventured to define the concept of the region and to make it operational. A n initial stage witnessed a gradual shift away from the notion of the natural region to that of the economic region; then came a renewal of ideas inspired by the spatial economists and impelled by the ' n e w geography', which sought to explain regional phenomena. T h e first essays in definition were of a piecemeal nature (Brocard, Lösch, Leontief, etc.); then Isard, the founder of regional science, held that the concept of region was deceptive and no more than an abstract generalization. H e therefore attached great importance to a sound analysis of the structures and flows characterizing the portion of space under consideration. A t the third stage of this fundamental research, Perroux, Boudeville and Richardson complemented one another in economic space analysis applied to the region, distinguished between: (a) the homogeneous region (la région homogène), which is essentially agricultural and whose touchstone is that the characteristics of • each elementary unit vary very little from the general average; (b) the nodal region {la région polarisée), which is essentially industrial and corresponds to the concept of space as a field of force; and (c) the planning region {la région-plan ou de programme), which is essentially forward-looking, an operational concept designed for action in the service of business and the public authorities. In the light of previous studies, Lajugie (1979) formulated a synoptic definition:

The region is a geographical area constituting an

706 G. B. Benko

economics: a field influenced by neo-classical theory, which held it essential not only to define a geometry of space but also tò meet certain immediate imperatives regarding location. T h e researchers tried to discover universal principles and apply them to regional planning. B y way of illustration w e shall mention a few methods that have helped the experts to grasp regional realities.

A variety of analytical instruments were used to determine the number and nature of industries that could be established and developed in a region. Thus the comparative cost method, a very convenient technique for regional planning, was conceived. T h e object is to identify the region where a particular industry could produce and distribute its product at lowest total cost; so as to justify the establishment of that industry in the area. This technique makes no allowance for non-economic factors such as cultural models; as a result, m a n y attempts at industrial development have failed. In addition several econometric models and locational coefficients have been used to measure the advantages and then describe and rank the regions according to their location quotient.

Input-output tables, a very important technique for the formalization and interpretation of data, have been the subject of study and have revealed certain processes underlying the links between the regions of a territory and between various aspects of their economies. W . Leontief (1953), winner of the 1973 Nobel Prize in economics, in collaboration with A . Strout, broke n e w ground with his work in this field. Researchers like Miernyk (1965), Isard (1971) and Gerking m a d e advances in the application of this method.

The technique of interregional linear programming emphasizes the general interdependence of activities; it is applied to the study of an interindustry linkage system, and proceeds by optimization. This method provides an efficiency model while tackling the problem of different types of regional scarcities.

Other quantitative approaches, such as

gravity models, highlight significant aspects of social mobility, particularly—among other factors—interregional migratory movements. Gravity models are also used to measure the hinterland of towns or, as in their first application by Reilly (1931), to study competition in the field of retail trade! The model is built by analogy with physics (phenomenon of magnetism or universal gravity).

The concept of entropy employed in the social sciences also has its origin in physics, and particularly in the second law of thermodynamics; as a result of Shannon's research it became the principal measure of information theory. Its use has been the subject of m a n y articles, especially in the English-speaking countries, represented by Wilson, M e d v e k n o w and Semple, and in France, represented by B . Marchand.

The dividing-line between meso-econ-omics and micro-economics is difficult to draw because the criteria are inevitably arbitrary, but a fundamental distinction emerges from the analyses. In meso-economics the individual is not the basic decision-making unit, whereas in micro-economics he is.

The foundations of spatial micro-economics also go back to Isard and, in France, to Ponsard. Next, the functionnal and h u m a n organization of space was studied using, on the one hand, quantitative methods like graph theory and, on the other, the perception of space—which is at the stage of fundamental research into the epistemology of the h u m a n sciences—and the cycle of information and decision. A behaviourist approach to decision-making by firms is developing among researchers influenced by the thinking of H . Simon (Nobel Prize in economics, 1978), Cyert and March. Hamilton and his coauthors analyse the logic of organizations' behaviour in space by highlighting such factors as information or the environment, which influence the decision-makers.

The neo-classical and neo-positivist approach of contemporary geography is characterized by the development of quantitative methods; marked progress has been m a d e in the formulation of spatial programming

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models, spatial econometrics, data analysis and classification, which are employed in explaining the spatial organization and dynamics applied to urban systems and industrial structures.

G a m e theory explains the logic of decisions taken in a situation of uncertainty about partners' intentions. Cyberne'tics— under the impetus of Norbert Wiener, its founder, in the 1950s—afforded a n e w angle from which to view the problem of social regulation, and also prompted the first inquiries into systems.

T h e third major trend in research—the critical approach to space—is Marxist in inspiration. This critical school of thought came into being in France, Italy and the Latin American countries in the 1950s and 1960s, and since the 1970s has gained an increasing foothold in the United States and the United Kingdom. T h e great debate on the ideological role of space in modern society hinges on such vital questions as spatial justice, equality, environmental balance and the strategies of dominant groups.

These Marxist and neo-Marxist studies are contributing to economic analyses by making a systematic inquiry into real property markets, the economic theory of residential rent and the housing question, as d e m o n strated by Lipietz (1974), Topalov (1973) and Castells (1972) a m o n g others. This debate—as yet epistemológica! rather than truly operational—extends also, with the contribution of Y . Lacoste, to questions of strategy and geopolitics at the international level. T h e efforts of the economists and sociologists are supplemented by socio-geography, as represented by D . Harvey and K . C o x , w h o deal with the problems of modern cities; phenomena of segregation and, in general, the impact of the capitalist system on the modern city.

F r o m this rapid review, it will be clear that regional science research began with the. development of analytical methods, the better to grasp spatial reality by recourse to such varied means as spatial models, econometrics and quantitative methods based on the latest

theories. S o m e models have become operational and have been applied to regional policy.

The theoretical hypotheses have been continuously revised and renewed, and the contribution of the 'new geography' and of sociology is increasingly apparent. It has made possible a more thorough analysis of social behaviour in space: a field in which theoretical, epistemological and philosophical debate between different schools of thought has recently intensified without, however, losing sight of the fundamental objectives of revealing and explaining the role of space in social practices, society being wholly committed to the task of giving shape to space.

N e w prospects for spatial analysis

The whole controversy surrounding the regional idea makes a pluridisciplinary approach essential. Hence economists, geographers, sociologists and others have m u c h to gain by banding together; for a region can be explained as m u c h by its economic characteristics as by its geographical, socio-cultural and historical attributes. People can be seen clinging to a scrap of space for reasons that have nothing to do with economics. T h e important role played by such space in the social science was discovered rather late in the day. Analyses and research in this area have been given a structure only in the last thirty years. T h e studies carried out have revealed to us, on the one hand, the spatial framework of the economy and, on the other, the ideological role of space in modern society. Regional science, as w e have seen, is the case-study of phenomena of economic, social and political behaviour from the standpoint of a spatial dimension; with the discovery of the distinctive features of space, it has become an independent branch of knowledge.

Regional policies do not always conform smoothly to the analyses and recommendations of regional theory, with the result that researchers are increasingly to be found in an academic setting. H o w will regional reality evolve? T h e Industrial Revolution shook


up the regional structure which until then could be explained by criteria of homogeneity. Notions of operationality and functionality had to be added, the better to grasp that structure and m a n a g e it. A t the d a w n of a technological revolution that is witnessing a speed-up and territorial expansion of exchanges (goods and services, capital, information, etc.), are w e to see 'our space', our

territorial organizations, b low u p in our faces? O n e thing is certain: it will not stand still. A n enlightened pluridisciplinary approach is m o r e essential than ever before. T h e contradictions between analysis and action can b e overcome, to enable us to m e e t the interests of m a n k i n d , to harmonize our space and attain a better 'spatial setting' for our lives.


Bibliography

The purpose of this bibliography is to convey the thrust, originality and evolution of regional science.

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A L L E N , P. ; S A N G L I E R , M . ; et al. Models of Urban Settlement and Structure as Dynamic Self-Organizing Systems. Washington, D . C . , Department of Transportation, 1981.

A L O N S O , W . Location and Land Use—Toward a General Theory of Land Rent. Cambridge, Mass . , Harvard University Press, 1964.

A M I N , S. L'accumulation à l'échelle mondiale. Critique de la théorie du sous-développement. Dakar, IF A N , 1970.

A R O N , R . Dix-huit leçons sur la société industrielle. Paris, . Gallimard, 1962.

A Y D A L O T , P. Dynamique spatiale et développement inégal. Paris, Económica, 1976.

B A I L L Y , A . L'organisation urbaine. Paris, C R U , 1975.

B A L A N D I E R , G . Sociologie actuelle de l'Afrique noire. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1963.

B A L A S S A , R . The Theory of Economie Integration. London, Allen & U n w i n , 1962.

B A R T H , F . Models of Social Organisation. London, Royal Anthropological Institute of Great Britain, 1969.

B E A U J E U - G A R N I E R , J. La géographie: méthodes et perspectives. Paris, Masson, 1971.

B E R R Y , B . J. L. ; H O R T O N , F . E . Geographie Perspective on Urban Systems. Englewood Cliffs, N . J . , Prentice-Hall, 1970.

B E R R Y , B . J. L.; K A R A S K A , J. D . Contemporary Urban Ecology. N e w York, Macmillan, 1977.

B O B E K , H . . Beiträge zur Raumforschung. Vienna, Guberner & Hierhammer, 1964.

B O U D E V I L L E , J. R . Les espaces économiques. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1961.

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V O N B Ö V E N T E R , E . Theorie des räumlichen Gleichgewichts. Tübingen, M o h r , 1962.

B U N G E , W . Theoretical Geography. Lund , Gleerup, 1962.

BURGESS, W . ; P A R K , R. E. The City. Chicago, 111., 1925.

C A S T E L L S , M . La question urbaine. Paris, Maspero, 1972.

CHOMBART DE L A U W E , P . H . Photographies aériennes. Paris, A . Colin, 1951.

. Des hommes et des villes. Paris, Payot, 1963.

C H R I S T A L L E R , W . Die zentralen Orte in Süddeutschland. Jena, 1933.

C L A V A L , P . Régions, nations, grands espaces. Paris, M . - T h . Génin, 1968.

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——. Espace et pouvoir. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1978.

. Géographie humaine et économique. Paris, Presses Universitaires de France, 1984.

710 G. B. Benko

COURBIS, R. ; CORNILLEAU, G . ;

B O U R D O N , J. Le modèle . REGINA. Paris, Económica, 1983.

C o x , K . Man, Location and Behavior. An Introduction to Human Geography. N e w York, John Wiley, 1972.

C Y E R T , R. M . ; M A R C H , J. G . A

Behavioral Theory of the Firm. Englewood Cliffs, N . J . , Prentice-Hall, 1963.

C Z A M A N S K I , S. Regional Science Technics in Practice. Lexington, Mass., Lexington Books, 1972.

D A N I E L S , P . Office Location: An Urban and Regional Study. London, Bell Books, 1975.

E A S T O N , D . The Political System. N e w York, Alfred Knopf, 1953.

E M M A N U E L , A . L'échange inégal. Paris, Maspero, 1969.

F R I E D M A N N , J. Regional Development Policy: A Case Study of Venezuela. Cambridge Mass., M I T Press, 1966.

FRIEDMANN, J.; W E A V E R , C.

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G A R R I S O N , W . Toward a Simi-lation Model of Urban Growth and Development. Lund, Gleerup, 1960. (Lund Studies in Geography, Series B , N o . 24.)

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. Profiles and Critiques in Social Theory. Berkeley, University of California Press, 1982.

G O D D A R D , J. Office Location in Urban and Regional Development. London, Oxford University Press, 1975.

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H A M I L T O N , F . E . Spatial Perspectives on Industrial Organisation and Decisionmaking. London, John Wiley, 1974.

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G . J. R . Spatial Analysis, Industry and the Industrial Environment. Chichester, John Wiley, 1981.

H A R V E Y , D . Social Justice and the City. London, Arnold, 1973.

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Efficiency of the Coal Industry; An Application of Linear Programming. Cambridge, Mass., Harvard University Press, 1958.

H I G G I N S , B . Economic Development. Principles, Problems and Policies. N e w York, Norton, 1959.

H I R S C H M A N , A . O . The Strategy of Economic Development. N e w Haven, Conn. , Yale University Press, 1958.

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H O Y T , H . One Hundred Years of Land Values in Chicago. Chicago, III., Chicago University Press, 1933.

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VIETARISZ, T. Industrial Complex Analysis and Regional Development. N e w York, John Wiley, 1959.

J U I L L A R D , E . La région: essai de définition. Annales de géographie, Vol. 71, 1962, pp. 483-99.

K O L O S S O V S K I , N . Théorie de la régionalisation économique. Moscow, Éditions du Progrès, 1975.

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L A C O U R C . Espace régional et aménagement du territoire. Paris, Dalloz, 1979.

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N E K R A S S O V , N . L'organisation territoriale de l'économie de l'URSS. M o s c o w , Éditions du Progrès, 1975.

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P A P A G E O R G I O U , G . The Impact of the Environment upon the Spatial Distribution of Population and Land Values. Economie Geography, Vol. 49, N o . 3, 1973, pp. 251-6.

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POLISH A C A D E M Y O F SCIENCES, Methods of Economic Regionalisation. Geographia Polonica (Warsaw), Vol. 4, 1964.

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712 G. B. Benko

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P. Tableau géographique de la France. Paris, A . Colin, 1903.

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Main periodicals

The Annals of Regional Science (Bellingham, Western Regional Science Association; 1967-).

Cahiers de l'Institut de Mathématiques Économiques (Dijon).

Economie Geography (Worcester, Mass. , Clark University; 1925-).

Environment and Planning (London, Pion; 1969-).

Espace géographique (Paris, Éditions Doin; 1972-).

Études et documents (Montreal, INRS-Urbanisation; 1976-).

International Regional Science Review (University of Iowa; 1976-).

Journal of Regional Science (Philadelphia, Pa. , University of Pennsylvania, Wharton School; 1961-).

Land Economics (Madison, Wis. ; 1925-).

Lund Studies in Geography (University of Lund, Sweden; 1949-).

Papers of the Regional Science Association (Philadelphia Pa.; 1955-).

Regional Studies (Oxford, Pergamon Press; 1967-).

Regional Science and Urban Economics

(Amsterdam; 1971-). • Revue canadienne des sciences régionales (Dalhousie University; 1978-).

Revue d'économie régionale et urbaine (Paris, A D I C U E E R . 1978-).

Urban Studies (Glasgow University, Department of Social and Economie Research; 1964-).

The teaching of anthropology: a comparative study

Jacques Lombard

A t the Second World Congress on Anthropology, held in Copenhagen in 1938, the Standing Committee on Research stressed the value of making a study of the teaching of anthropology and ethnology in the countries represented at the Congress, and of the obstacles to the introduction of such teaching. Today, more than forty-five years later, this project is still unrealized, and it is sad to see h o w little attention is devoted by scholarly meetings to the most elementary aspects of the perpetuation of research and improvement of the transmission of knowledge.

Nevertheless, the addition of a discipline to a system of education is one of the most reliable means of making it grow and ensuring that it reaches a

' broader public. Curiously enough, the investigation of the methods used to teach either the techniques of research in the discipline or the body of general knowledge pertaining to it is something that is rarely discussed at scientific gatherings of researchers or academic specialists. In France, in particular, it is left to the initiative of a few specialists associated with the Ministry of Education, and these in turn, in the n a m e of the academic freedom of universities ¡and examination boards, consider that the

Jacques Lombard is Professor of Anthropology at the Université des Sciences et Techniques in Lille, France. H e is a former president of that university and is the author of various works, including Structures de type féodal en Afrique Noire, and l'Anthropologie britannique contemporaine.

teacher should remain master of his teaching. For this reason, a group of anthropol

ogists from a variety of countries, involved with both teaching and research, decided that it would be a good idea to meet on the occasion of the Eleventh International C o n gress of the Anthropological Sciences, held in Quebec City in August 1983, to exchange views on the current situation of anthropology teaching, so very different n o w from what it

was in 1938 w h e n the value of conducting a study on the subject was first emphasized. Anthropologists from Belgium, France, the Federal Republic of Germany , the Netherlands, Portugal, South Africa, the United Kingd o m and Yugoslavia took part and an initial situation report was prepared on the basis of five countries.1 T h e report dealt for the most part

with what is termed 'social and cultural' anthropology, and referred only in passing to teaching in related areas such as physical and biological anthropology, anthropolinguistics and prehistory. Transcending the differences that can be seen among teaching systems, each of which has its o w n traditions, deep-rooted similarities are observable, especially as regards current developments in teaching which has been deeply affected by the econ-

714 •Jacques Lombard

omic crisis. This crisis has had a severe impact on European universities and on new trends in anthropology, which is itself frequently said to be experiencing an internal crisis.

Anthropology or ethnology?

Terminology provides one initial point of convergence, with the term 'anthropology' becoming more popular than 'ethnology'. A s everyone knows, in the United Kingdom, where social anthropology originated, and in the United States, the h o m e of cultural anthropology, the term 'ethnology' was dropped very early on since the word is associated in English-speaking countries with evolutionary theories and the conjectural historical approach. 'History of contemporary archaic peoples, I a m prepared to let that discipline go to ruin,' said Kroeber, w h o shared the view of his British colleagues that it had become too concerned with the enu-merative investigation of cultural characteristics or attempts to achieve the historical— and ultimately unscientific—reconstruction of races and cultures. This preference for the term 'anthropology' has been imitated in m a n y other countries, like the Netherlands' and nowadays France as well. In France, anthropologie is increasingly coming to be regarded as synonymous with ethnologie, even though it had- traditionally been associated with the study of races and h u m a n physical characteristics, in contrast to ethnologie, and despite the fact that, on occasion, anthropologie assumes a broader connotation than ethnologie, denoting a general study of m a n kind in space and time, as in the writings of Lévi-Strauss. However, 'ethnologie' continues to be used in the administrative nomenclature of the disciplines taught at university level. In the Federal Republic of Germany, the term 'Ethnologie' can still be found in scientific writing, as is apparent from the titles of a number of recent articles. Ethnologie c o m prises the two fields k n o w n traditionally in that country as Völkerkunde, the anthropology of non-European peoples, and Völks

kunde, the branch of anthropology that is concerned with local, i.e. European, folklore and traditions. However , it is not u n c o m m o n nowadays to find the term 'Sozial und Kulturanthropologie' used in certain publications, and this, here again, indicates the growing influence of Anglo-American usage. Even so, anthropologists in the Völkerkundler tradition tend to be wary of these terms, as in France anthropology has always been strongly associated with physical and biological anthropology.

However, this general trend in favour of the term 'anthropology' is mirrored by a nearly identical development in the relations of anthropology with its neighbouring sciences. Within a few decades, the close relationships that used to exist between prehistory and linguistics on the one hand and social and cultural anthropology on the other, especially with respect to the teaching of physical and biological anthropology, have been progressively displaced by a closer association with sociology, particularly in the United Kingdom, France and, to some extent, the Netherlands.

Early in this century, a British anthropologist would also be a specialist in archaeology and physical anthropology, and C a m bridge had a Faculty of Archaeology and Anthropology, Oxford a Department of Ethnology and Prehistory. Since the 1960s, the options open to a Cambridge student have been more or less restricted to anthropology, sociology or social psychology, rather than archaeology or physical anthropology. The same thing can be seen in France. Until 1968, the Musée de l ' H o m m e in Paris offered a course that included social and cultural anthropology, linguistics, prehistory and physical and biological anthropology. After the reform of higher education, the establishment of growing numbers of chairs of ethnology in the universities and the general tendency to attach them to the former faculties of literature and social science caused anthropology in the broad sense to break up, leaving it with only its ethnological aspect. Ethnology became an ancillary subject

The anthropologist and her objects: Margaret Mead. Rapho.

and this tends to isolate anthropologists from archaeologists, sociologists and biologists, and to m a k e interdisciplinary work difficult in practice.

The historical background to the teaching of anthropology

These similarities, which, with variations, are to be found in all five countries can probably be accounted for to some extent by fairly similar historical circumstances. In Western Europe more than elsewhere, anthropology was 'the daughter of colonialism', and this inevitably influenced the nature and content of the subject.

T h e anthropology of far-away, alien lands flourished primarily in France, T h e United Kingdom, Portugal, Spain, Belgium, the Netherlands, Germany and Italy. M u c h less attention was paid to it in the Central European nations, where research tended rather to concentrate on the study of regional customs and folklore in an effort to reinvig-

in sociology and the social sciences generally. In the specialized institutes, with the possible exception of the Institut des Langues et Civilisations Orientales, anthropology is taught either as a separate discipline or with reference to a cultural area, as is the case with the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales. In the Netherlands, departments of anthropology are still part of Faculties of Social Science, and the subject is taught in close association with non-Western sociology. A similar but less systematic situation is also occasionally found in France and the United Kingdom as well. T h e same is also true of Belgium, anthropology being associated with sociology at one university, psychology at another, and so on. In the Federal Republic of Ge rmany , by contrast, ethnology is taught as a specific subject which has come to be distinct both from archaeology and prehistory on the one hand and from the empirical sciences of culture (Empirische Kulturwissenschaften) on the other. Only linguistics, and to a lesser extent the history of civilizations, are incorporated into the curriculum,

716 Jacques Lombard

orate the local cultures of peoples in search of their national identities (Poland, Hungary, and so on). Then in some countries an intermediate situation prevailed, the study of 'exotic' communities being prompted by the need to build an integrated pluralistic nation in response to domestic political concerns. Anthropology in the United States concerned itself initially with Indian reservations, extending its purview further afield as time went on. T h e situation was similar in Australia and South Africa. These diffèrent historical backgrounds had a decisive influence even on the basic approach to the teaching of anthropology. In this connection, the example of France is highly instructive. The French colonial empire and the political wish for French cultural unity, one and indivisible, naturally resulted in a lower level of interest in folklore and regional peculiarities and correspondingly greater interest in countries overseas, particularly African countries. However , while colonialism gave a particular direction to scientific activity, different approaches to colonialism itself m a y also have played a role in the development of research, and hence of teaching. It has been observed, for example, that anthropological studies began earlier in British territories than they did in French territories, largely because the British used a system of indirect rule so that it was more important to k n o w something about local customs, whereas the assimilationist policy followed in French colonies m a d e the study of social organizations and cultures a less urgent matter.

O n the other hand, the end of the colonial era produced the opposite effect, and both in the United Kingdom and in France there was a noteworthy revival of interest in regional customs and provincial characteristics. For political and also financial reasons, access to 'the field', in newly independent countries, had become m o r e difficult for investigators. Another factor, in the case of France, was the wish to support a broad decentralization movement matching the wishes of a people suffering more and more from imposed uniformity and urban pressures.

Beginning in the 1960s, w e find an increasing number of ethnological studies on France and to some extent a shift,in curriculum content, particularly in provincial universities. A similar development occurred in the United Kingd o m . Whereas earlier generations of research workers and teachers had devoted the bulk of their efforts to the countries of Africa, Oceania and India, anthropological research nowadays extends to other parts of the world, including the British Isles themselves.

The crisis in anthropology and the crisis in the universities

The growing success enjoyed by anthropology after the 1960s, and the growing numbers of students from all backgrounds w h o have turned to it cannot conceal the depth of the crisis besetting it. Before the war, there were only six universities in the United Kingdom with anthropology departments, whereas the subject is n o w taught in over thirty universities, not counting those in which sociology and anthropology are lumped together. The teaching of anthropology has also taken root and grown in unrelated departments, such as education or psychiatry. The same thing has happened in France where n e w courses were introduced after 1960 in the universities, and departments were set up in specialized institutes such as the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales. Concurrently, there was substantial growth in the number of investigators engaged in research at the C N R S (Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique) until 1976 or thereabouts. In the Netherlands, out of eight major universities, six offer a complete training in anthropology in their Faculties of Social Science to over 2,000 students (anthropology and sociology of the Third World) . In the Federal Republic of Germany , the number of students increased fourfold between 1974 and 1983, with 8,300 registered in all, over 4,000 of w h o m were concentrating on sociology. T h e reasons ; for success on this scale are unclear, and


A . Doutreloux, of the Catholic University of Louvain, has expressed curiosity about w h y there has been such a strong demand from students of psychology, law, literature or architecture no less than from students of the social sciences. Conceivably the explanation is not so m u c h the students' desire for explicit knowledge about anthropology as their vaguely felt wish to dissociate themselves from their o w n society and to look for cultural enrichment and a source of humanistic values in cultures that are remote and less anonym o u s than our o w n .

It seems clear, at all events, that this success has caused anthropology to develop into a discipline aimed at cultural enrichment and supplementing a large number of other fields, while at the same time it has lost the specific character and professional, training function that it formerly had. Accordingly, it offers the student more in the way of 'culture' and 'ideas' than of 'technique' or ' k n o w - h o w ' . This is the price that has had to be paid for the striking growth in universities of new fields of science and technology associated with occupations calling for training that is both precise and specialized. T h e result has been the development of a considerable degree of opposition between teaching which is specialized and technical but geared to occupational purposes, and teaching which is general and 'cultural' but offering no assurance of employment . All observers agree that there is virtually no recruitment either to the ranks of teachers or to those of investigators, and this is due not only to the crisis in anthropology or in the universities generally, but also, and indeed primarily, to the economic crisis as such.

F . Valjavec showed that in the Federal Republic of Germany , ethnology benefited very little from the expansion of higher education during the years of economic growth. Surveys at the universities have shown that the teacher/student ratio in ethnology was 1 to 85 in 1983, whereas the average for all fields was only 1 to 47. Similar figures would doubtless be found in the case of other countries.

This crisis in anthropology is evident everywhere. There is firstly a crisis in its subject-matter with the disappearance of what are termed 'traditional' societies and the shift of its specific focus from a vanished subject to a research method and research techniques that are less dominated by quantitative tools than are those of sociology. There is a crisis in its boundaries as a discipline, which are somewhat unclear; and above all there is a crisis in the use to which anthropologists can be put, since there are too m a n y of them for the few employment opportunities still available.

In s o m e universities, themselves with reduced staff and financial resources, anthropology for a time was able to gain a n e w lease of life with the upsurge of research on the development of Third World countries. Experience has shown, however, that in this field, the natural sciences, such as the earth sciences, marine biology, and so on , have attacted more researchers than the social sciences. Even a m o n g the social sciences, economics and demography have fared better than anthropology or even sociology.

The current situation of the universities does not offer m a n y grounds for optimism, either. J. S . Eades has pointed out that in the United Kingdom, n o w that the government has decided to put a stop to the growth of the university sector and m a n y professors are being offered early retirement, the ranks of eminent anthropologists will doubtless not be replenished by n e w appointments, and this will jeopardize the renewal of the teaching body and harm the promotion prospects of the most outstanding lecturers. Increases in university fees also seem likely to inhibit entry to universities, especially for Third World students. This has already been observed in Belgium in respect of Zairian students w h o are transferring to universities in northern France where lower fees are charged.

The fact remains, however, that this crisis has not yet brought growth in the teaching of anthropology to a halt, even though its purpose and subject have changed somewhat, losing part of their former specific focus.

718 Jacques Lombard

The organization of teaching

T w o important things mentioned above are going to exercise a considerable influence on the w a y the teaching of anthropology is organized: (a) the progressively and steadily closer relationship between anthropology and sociology (whether Western-oriented or Third-World-oriented) at the expense of the former type of training, which was more broadly interdisciplinary, incorporating as it did prehistory, ethnolinguistics and physical anthropology; and (b) the general trend for anthropology to be the teaching of 'culture', open to an ever-growing extent to students from other fields, and compelled as a result to provide a progressively less specialized form of instruction for students w h o are less directly committed to the discipline than was formerly the case.

These two trends, c o m m o n to all five countries, are accompanied by a divergence in those countries' respective traditional views of the teaching of anthropology. In France, in particular, this subject has rarely been regarded as the goal of a long course of study extending over the number of years required to earn a university degree or maîtrise. Until 1968, ethnology was a special field of university study which a student could choose after two years of higher education, i.e. specialized subject open to advanced students only. At some institutions, indeed, such as the Ecole Pratique des Hautes Études in Paris and the M u s é e de l ' H o m m e , it was intended for postgraduates wishing to learn something about research. After 1968, degrees and maîtrises in ethnology were awarded by some universities, but it was not taught as a subject in its o w n right until the third year (eight universities out of seventeen offering anthropology, according to a recent survey conducted by the Association Française des Anthropologues). Elsewere, the subjects of ethnology and sociology are associated, leading to degrees and maîtrises in sociology, with compulsory or in some cases optional courses in anthropology. In other countries, by contrast, the discipline has traditionally enjoyed a

greater degree of independence,, with longer courses of study. The United Kingdom, in particular, has universities (eight or nine) with separate departments of anthropology, offering courses up to the postgraduate level, universities in which the departments of sociology and anthropology are associated, others in which anthropology is more widely taught in the social science departments, and still others in which the subject is even more interdisciplinary and is spread over a number of different faculties. The situation is similar in the Netherlands, where there are six universities with departments of anthropology offering a five-year degree course, and also in Belgium, where there are full courses in anthropology at the Free University of Brussels and the Flemish Catholic University of Louvain. Lastly, in the Federal Republic of Germany ethnology is taught as a major subject in some fifteen universities, the largest of which, in terms of enrolment, are West Berlin, Munich, Göttingen, Cologne, Frankfurt, Mainz and H a m b u r g . T h e curriculum for a Master's degree extends over a period of four to five years, during which anthropology is a required subject.

However , the traditional organization of anthropology as a subject can vary. In addition to the independence or specific nature of the subject in relation to others, the independence and specific nature of the university with respect to the kind of teaching and the curricula are also a factor. F r o m this standpoint, British and Netherlands universities m a y conveniently be set in opposition to universities in France and the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y . In the United Kingdom, departments of anthropology have remained faithful to the traditions of certain professors and heads of department, whose names are associated with various universities. These include Evans-Pritchard at Oxford, Fortes and Leach at Cambridge and Gluckman at Manchester, each of these universities being marked by a particular approach to anthropology and by concentration on particular fields. Each university was linked to a 'school', and consequently somewhat inward-


Amateur ethnology: an Easter Island scene sent by the nineteenth-century French author of'exotic' novels, Pierre Loti, to the famous actress, Sarah Bernhardt. Edimagcs.

720 Jacques Lombard

looking. In the Netherlands, specialization has occurred mainly in relation to particular regions or cultural areas, or else around special fields within anthropology, e.g. Black Africa and Indonesia at Leiden; Europe and the Mediterranean, South-East Asia and linguistics at Amsterdam; Latin America at Utrecht; the Pacific Ocean and economic anthropology at Nijmegen.

This tendency for universities to specialize is not found in France or the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y , where teaching tends to be more interchangeable and specialization depends on the personalities and experience of different professors, each of w h o m organizes his lectures and research in accordance with his o w n concepts. O n the other hand, in s o m e institutes in the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y and in France (including the Institut des Langues et Civilisations Orientales, the École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales and the M u s é e de l ' H o m m e in Paris), teaching m a y be quite specialized, especially since it is aimed at advanced students. It is another distinctive feature of the French system that it has to some extent dissociated general education, which is provided essentially in universities, from practical teaching arid research training, which are concentrated mainly in Paris and in specialized institutions.

Teaching and the students

Approaches to teaching and educational methods have changed over time as have the foci of interest in anthropological research. T h e attention devoted to various societies or continents is itself influenced by fashion, as m a d e k n o w n by the press and other media.

In France, for example, Africa was very m u c h in vogue between 1950 and 1965, but shortly thereafter began to lose ground in favour of the South American Indian and, subsequently, in the 1970s or thereabouts, there was a wave of enthusiasm for the regions of France.

T h e same applies to teaching methods. Eades emphasizes that in the United Kingd o m — a n d doubtless the same is true of other

countries—the 1960s were years of m o n o graph studies dealing typically with a single ethnic group from a rural area in a colonized country. T h e study of traditional activities was seen in an ethnographic present. In 1970, Gluckman's dynamic approach and Marxist influence progressively pushed investigators in the direction of the study of social change, complex societies and work-related migrations. In 1980, finally, the Marxist contribution increased even further, while the outlines of an anthropology that was m u c h more closely associated with the problems of development began to take shape, within the context of a m u c h greater degree of inter-disciplinarity (involving economics, history, political science, and so on). O n the other hand, some countries, notably the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y and Austria, were subject for years to the influence of the dif-fusionist school (Kulturkreislehre, Kulturmorphologie), and that influence was widely felt in the approach to teaching at all universities. The long-continued popularity of diffusionism (the ethnohistorical. school) crowded out the other trends.

While the teaching of anthropology is determined by the approach characteristic of a particular university (as is the case in the United K i n g d o m to some extent) or even of an entire country (as was formerly the case in the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y ) , it is also determined by the nature of the teaching material itself—in this instance, the anthropological literature that the students can be provided with.

In France, for example, some publishers have brought out translations of a great m a n y works by Malinowski, Evans-Pritchard or the American anthropologists. T h e publication of ' these works in paperback editions has helped to generate wider awareness of the ideas and interests of these authors a m o n g beginners or non-specialist students, even though subsequently more advanced study m a y lead them to adopt a more critical attitude towards this initial basic information. Only later, in the context of work at a higher level, is it possible for the teacher to abandon this

The leaching of anthropology: a comparative study 721

general, 'cultural' aspect of his teaching and turn instead to what he considers to be more fundamental, namely transmission of 'field' experience, which was formerly regarded as the key ingredient in the ethnologist's training and k n o w - h o w . A n additional factor is concentration on a particular, more specialized field of anthropological research (kinship, economy, ritual, political life, and so on). T h e fact remains, none the less, that in France a specialized field cannot be taught to the majority until cheap paperback editions, offering in one volume articles by various authors on a single theme, become c o m m o n .

Generally speaking, interdisciplinarity is coming to be an increasingly prominent feature of the teaching of anthropology, except perhaps in the Federal Republic of Germany where the pace of change is slower. In the United Kingdom, some courses are given by groups of lecturers from different disciplines. In the Netherlands, anthropology is taught in combination with other social sciences, especially those that are of use in research on development in the Third World. In France, a tradition going back to Durkheim and Mauss is used as a theoretical basis for the increasingly close association between sociology and anthropology, which is also justified on the grounds of the small number of professional opportunities available in anthropology. In Belgium, as A . Doutreloux emphasized, the anthropologist tends through force of circumstances to become a 'sort of general practitioner of the social sciences', and anthropology 'the art of interdisciplinarity' in that its function has become not so much to answer to a theory as to be able to take into consideration, when confronted with an actual phenomenon, the various levels or orders of reality constituting that phenomenon.

The curriculum itself varies not only from country to country, but also from university to university and hence, a fortiori, from one specialized institution to another. Except in France, where the course of study is not so long, even in universities that offer a Master's degree in ethnology, the general rule is a three- or four-year course, which of course is

even longer in the case of a student w h o wishes to obtain a doctorate. In such cases the programme m a y be as long as five or seven . years.

In the United Kingdom, the first year of studies is highly multidisciplinary, with sociology, law, economics and political science alternating with anthropology (University of Kent). In the second year the student is introduced to the various special fields within anthropology, and in the third year, specialization by cultural area or themes of application to development are introduced.

In the Netherlands, where anthropology is still a clearly defined subject in its o w n right and is not taught as a form of 'culture' to the same extent as in France and Belgium, the work of the first and second years also includes a substantial multidisciplinary component which includes sociology, political science, philosophy and the economics of development, anthropology being taught in combination with the sociology of the Third World (Free University of Amsterdam). Specialization begins in the third year, both in anthropology and in a related discipline, the choice of which is left to the student. For example, a student w h o intends to work in Latin America m a y decide to specialize in political anthropology with religious anthropology as his second subject, choosing Spanish-language subjects as an option. Research training really begins in the fourth and fifth years w h e n the student is preparing for his doctorate. T h e doctorate is based on the fields of specialization selected in the student's third year.

In France, on the other hand, anthropology is not really taught until the third year, and then only at universities that offer undergraduate degrees and maîtrises in ethnology. In some instances, however, courses m a y be given in the second year, or even the first, as part of the sociology programme.

Training in specialist anthropology does not really begin until the fifth year {diplôme d'études approfondies), at the doctoral level and in seminars given in specialized institutes such as the Musée de l ' H o m m e and the École

722 Jacques Lombard

des Hautes Études. Such training m a y also occasionally be available at a few universities offering different fields of specialization at this level.

In the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y , a, Master's degree is awarded after the fourth year, study beyond that level leading to the doctorate. T h e teaching of the subject, somewhat as in France, is related to the personality of the professor concerned rather than to the nature of the university as in the Netherlands and the United Kingdom. Consequently, it is less susceptible of overall organization as it is neither homogeneous (same training in all universities) nor specialized (each university having its o w n area of specialization defined in relation to an overall structure). According to F . Valjavec, there is no course planning and no course differentiation, apart from the formal distinctions between undergraduate, Master's and doctoral studies. In the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y , Belgium and to a considerable extent in France as well, the complaint is that excessive emphasis has been placed on theory, which is frequently divorced from field experience. A . Doutreloux stresses that students frequently find it difficult to 'perceive a practical fact as it actually is—ordinary, diversified or even disparate', even though in m a n y instances they are cramed . with concepts and theories and well armed with reading matrices and methods.

This trend is also observable in France, where the Marxist school of anthropology has developed a formidable body of theory on pre-capitalist formations and forms of transition between production systems, in m a n y instances on the basis of formerly fashionable concepts such as the 'Asian m o d e of production'. O n the other hand, the swing back tó local ethnology and the study of regional customs has led to a renewal of interest in the descriptive approach and in ethnography, formerly used in monographs about the exotic 'field'.

T h e students, discouraged by the lack of any professional opportunities, look less for training than for 'culture' and are increasingly

interested in events in the non-European world. They have filled the lecture halls of Western universities and displayed considerable interest in anthropology since the years 1965-70. Those were the years of the great debates about ideas and the reassessment of Western society. This interest in other peoples and different cultures also arose out of the success of great theories such as Lévi-Strauss's structuralism which have gone well beyond the bounds of the academic world. In France, in particular, books on anthropology were widely read in secondary schools and were extensively used by teachers at that level.

At present, the economic crisis and the rise of unemployment, along with the decline of the traditional general disciplines in favour of technological subjects that lead on to employment, have changed the attitudes and expectations of students, w h o are more interested in acquiring k n o w - h o w than knowledge. T h e n e w aids in education (such as statistics and computers) are being progress-, ively introduced into social science curricula and are a contributing factor in the choices m a d e by students. Those w h o learn to handle these techniques best will tend to prefer economics to sociology, and at a later stage, will prefer sociology to anthropology. In France, where there is no selection for university entrance, a survey taken in October 1983 at the University of Lille I showed that 75 per cent of the students entering the first year of sociology were girls, whereas boys tended to choose that subject as their subsidiary field of study. In the Federal Republic of G e r m a n y as well, increasing numbers of w o m e n students are going in for ethnology.

Doubtless there is a cause-and-effect relationship between the lack of opportunities for employment and the trend of anthropology towards a general 'cultural' approach. This trend can only grow stronger if the number of students from related fields increases, or if, in addition to their degrees and jobs, they display an increasing tendency to regard a degree in anthropology as a 'cul-


tural passport' for any intelligently prepared stay in a distant country.

W h a t can be done about these various crises in education, the universities, and anthropology? This is what J. S. Eades asks with respect to the United Kingdom in wondering what the short- and long-term prospects are for anthropology as an academic discipline.

In the short term, he thinks that it would be desirable to continue to meet the demand of a minority of students by preserving anthropology education in its entirety. T h e departments of anthropology exist, and they must continue to meet the demand of a public that is still attracted by the exotic. For the longer term, there are two possible courses. In the first place, anthropology education could be given a m o r e historical orientation, concentrating on vanishing cultures and demanding a m o r e searching study of the substantial quantity of material accumulated by earlier scholars. This approach might be of interest to a small number of students, even though it has no institutional basis in the academic system. Alternatively, anthropology could be given a more contemporary orien

tation, associated with the problems of today's world, but this would lead to a fragmentation of the discipline in view of the need for genuinely interdisciplinary research. Anthropologists would have to affiliate, themselves, both theoretically and empirically, with specialists in the other social sciences, working with them in closer collaboration than they worked in the past with their former colleagues in other special fields of anthropology.

Anthropology has already given the other social sciences its specific techniques such as participant observation and small-group analysis and it has already turned to the study of complex societies, even though the techniques just referred to have sometimes proved to be less appropriate there than in the study of rural societies. Furthermore, in interdisciplinary debate, anthropology has always been able to emphasize the reality and complexity of any socio-cultural situation. It still faces the task of adapting m o r e fully to the contemporary world, even if in so doing it must lose some part of what its 'substance' originally was.


Note

1. Eleventh International Congress of the Anthropological and Ethnological Sciences. Phase I—Quebec City, 14-17 August 1983, symposium A-208: 'The teaching of anthropology'. A . Doutreloux, University of Louvain (Belgium), 'Enseigner l'anthropologie en 1983' [Teaching Anthropology in 1983].

J. S. Eades, University of Kent (United Kingdom), 'The teaching of social anthropology in the United Kingdom'. A . Koster, Free University of Amsterdam (Netherlands), 'L'enseignement de l'anthropologie aux Pays-Bas' [The Teaching of Anthropology in the Netherlands], J. Lombard, University of Lille I

(France), 'L'enseignement de l'anthropologie en France' [The Teaching of Anthropology in France]. F. Valjavec, University of Tübingen (Federal Republic of Germany), 'L'ethnologie en Allemagne fédérale' [Anthropology in the Federal Republic of Germany].

Books received

Sternberg, Ghitta. Stefanesti: Portrait of a Romanian Shtetl. Oxford/New York/Toronto, Per-g a m o n Press, 1984. 289 pp. , figs., illus., tables, bibliog. £20.

Trappe, Paul. Entwicklungssoziologie. Basle, Social Strategies Publishers Co-operative Society, 1984. 711 pp . , index. (Social Strategies: Monographs on Sociology and Social Policy, 12.) 60 Swiss francs.

D e m o g r a p h y

Franco Biffi (ed.). International Federation of Catholic Universities. Centre for Coordination of Research. Demographic Policies from a Christian View Point, Symposium, Rio de Janeiro, 27-30 Sept. 1982: Proceedings. R o m e , Herder, 1984. 587 pp. , figs., tables.

Nations Unies. Département des Affaires Economiques et Sociales Internationales. Tables types de mortalité pour les pays en développement. N e w York, United Nations, 1984. 351 pp . , tables. ( S T / E S A / S E R . A / 7 7 . )

United Nations. Department of International Economie and Social Affairs. The World Population Situation in 1983: Concise Report. N e w York , United Nations, 1984. 108 pp . , tables. ( S T / S E A / S E R . A / 8 5 . )

Generalities, documentation

Roberts, Stephen A . (ed.). Academic Research in the United Kingdom. Its Organisation and Effectiveness: Proceedings of a Symposium of the Association of Researchers in Medicine and Science. London, Taylor Grah a m , 1984. 112 pp . , figs., tables. £12.

Cronin, Blaise. The Citation Process: The Role of Significance of Citations in Scientific Communication. London , Taylor G r a h a m , 1984. 103 pp . , bibliog. £10.

Marien, Michael (ed.); with Lane Jennings. Future Survey Annual, 1983: A Guide to Recent Literature of Trends, Forecasts, and Policy Proposals. Bethseda, World Future Society, 1984. 240 pp . , index. £25.

Tedd, Lucy A . An Introduction to Computer-based Library Systems, 2nd ed. Chichester/New York/Brisbane, John Wiley & Sons, 1984. 262 pp . , figs., tables, index.

Psychology

Guéguen, Cécile; Leveau, H é lène T . Rendez-vous à la crèche. Toulouse, Privat, 1984. 164 pp . , illus. (Mésopé.) 65 francs.

Martino, Joël de. Formation paradoxale et paradoxes de la formation. Toulouse, Privat, 1984. 228 pp. , figs., bibliog. (Histoire contemporaine des sciences humaines.) 98 francs.

M o z n y , Ivo. Rodina vysokoSkol-sky vzdèlanych manzelû. Brnë,

Universita J. E . Purkynë, 1983. 189 pp. , graphs, tables, bibliog.

Social sciences

Ander-Egg, Ezequiel. Metodología del trabajo social. Instituto de Ciencies Sociales Aplicadas, 1982. 244 pp . , figs., illus., tables.

. Técnicas de investigación social. [Alicante], Humanitas, 1983. 500 pp . , figs., graphs, illus.

Bilsborrow, R . E . ; Obérai, A . S.; Standing, G . (eds.). Migration Surveys in Low Income Countries: Guidelines for Survey and Questionnaire Design. London/Sydney, C r o o m H e l m ; 1984. 552 pp . , tables., bibliog. £14.95.

Sri Lanka. Natural Resources, Energy and Science Authority. Social Science Research Methodology, Seminar, Peradeniya, 24 Aug.-13 Sept.1980: Seminar Report. C o l o m b o , Natural R e sources, Energy and Science Authority, 1983. 268 pp . , tables.

Sociology

Grenier, Philippe. Chiloé et les Chilotes: Marginalités et dépendance en Patagonie chilienne. L a Calade, Aix-en-Provence, E D I S U D , 1984. 585 pp. , figs., maps , illus., tables, bibliog., index. 240 francs.

Kwasniewski, Jerzy. Society and Deviance in Communist Poland: Attitudes Towards Social Control. Leamington Spa, Berg Publishers, 1984. 209 pp'.

Political science

International Federation of Catholic Universities. The Peace Movements/Les mouvements de la paixlFriedensbewegungen— Analysis and Evaluation; Mo-

726

tivations and Aspects, Symposium, Salzburg, 18-21 Feb. 1983: Proceedings. R o m e , R e search Centre of the I F C U , 1984. 333 pp., tables, bibliog.

Whitaker, Ben (ed.). Minorities: A Question of Human Rights? Oxford/New York/Toronto, Per-gamon Press, 1984. 131 pp.

Economics

Agh , Attila. National Development in the Third World. Budapest, Institute for World Econo m y of the Hungarian Acade m y of Sciences, 1984. 68 pp. (Studies on Developing Countries, 115.)

Australia. Department of Foreign Affairs. The Development Crisis and the North-South Dialogue: An Australian Perspective. Canberra, Australian Government Publishing Service, 1984. 93 pp., tables.

Inter-Regional Coordinating Committee of Development Associations. Third Inter-Regional Meeting on Development Research, Communication and Education, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, 7-9 June 1983: Beyond the North-South Dialogue/Au-delà du dialogue Nord-Sud. Kuala Lumpur, Asian and Pacific Development Centre, 1983. 130 pp. (English/French.)

Jennings, Anthony (ed.) Our Response to the Poorest of the Third World. Oxford/New York/Toronto, Pergamon Press, 1984. 64 pp. , index.

Mikkelsen, Arne; Vartia, Pentti; Eliasson, Gunnar; Selvik, Arne (eds.). Economic Growth in a

Nordic Perspective. Stockholm, The Industrial Institute for Economic and Social Research, 1984. 373 pp. , figs., tables. (SEK 223.)

Rose, José. En quête d'emploi: formation, chômage, emploi. Paris, Económica, 1984. 196 pp. , tables., index, bibliog. 98 francs.

Tolnai, György. The Role of the Peasant Small-Scale Commodity Producing Sector in the Third World. Budapest, Institute for World Economy of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, 1984. 51 pp. (Studies on Developing Countries; 114.)

United Nations. The Voluntary Fund for the U . N . Decade for W o m e n . A Guide to Community Revolving Loan Funds. N e w York, United Nations, 1984. 158 pp., illus., tables.

Law

Université de Paix. Les droits des humains: textes fondamentaux pour l'éducation et l'action. H u y , Belgium, Georges Malempré, [1984]. 143 pp. (Critères pour l'action.) 25 francs.

Public administration

Kleczkowski, B . M . ; Roemer, M . I.; Van der Werff, A . Les systèmes de santé nationaux: réorientation sur la voie de la santé pour tous. Geneva, World Health Organization, 1984. 136 pp., bibliog. (Cahiers de santé publique, 77.)

Social relief and welfare

International Labour Office. Financing Social Security—The Options: An International Analysis. Geneva, International Labour Office, 1984. 145 pp., $14.25; 25 Swiss francs.

World Health Organization. Regional Office for Europe. Family Planning and Sex Education of Young People. Copenhagen, W H O Regional Office for Europe, 1984. 41 pp. ( E U R O Reports and Studies, 89.)

Social anthropology

Koenig, Jean-Paul. Malagasy Customs and Proverbs. Montreal, Sherbrooke, 1984. 50 pp., illus., bibliog.

Polo, Jaime B . The Binalayan Fishing Ritual-Drama: A Fellowship at Sea. Tacloban City, Divine W o r d University Publications, 1983. 110 pp., illus., bibliog.

Literature

Collet, Paulette. Les romanciers français et le Canada, 1842-1981: Anthropologie. Sherbrooke/Paris. Editions Naaman Agence de Coopération Culturelle et Technique, 1984. 163 pp., gloss., index.

History

Pichardo, Hortensia. Biografía del Colegio de San Cristobal de la Habana. Havana, Editorial de la Academia de Ciencias de Cuba, 1979. 292 pp., bibliog.

Recent Unesco publications (including publications assisted by Unesco)

Bibliographic Guide to Studies on the Status of Women: Development and Population Trends. Paris/Epping/New York, Unes-co/Bowker/Unipub, 1983. 292 pp., index. 175 francs.

Bibliography ofMono-and Multilingual Vocabularies, Thesauri, Subject Headings and Classification Schemes in the Social Sciences, by Aslib Library in collaboration with Jean Aitchison and C . G . Allen. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 101 pp. (Reports and Papers in the Social Sciences, 54.) 18 francs.

Directory of Institutions involved in Intercultural Studies/Répertoire des institutions d'études interculturelles. Paris, Unesco, 1984. 169 pp. (CLT.84 /WS.5 . )

Dynamics of Nation-Building with Particular Reference to the Role of Communication: Country Profiles in Historical Perspective. Bangkok, Unesco Regional Office for Education in Asia and the Pacific, 1983. 201 pp. , tables. ( R A S S A P Series on Occasional M o n o graphs and Papers, 7.)

Education, Employment and Development in the German Democratic Republic, by K . Korn et al. Paris, Unesco/IIEP, 1984. 170 pp., tables, bibliog., 60 francs.

Evaluation Manual, by Sven Grabe. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 84 pp., figs. (Socio-economic Studies, 6.) 20 francs.

Historical and Socio-cultural Relations between Black Africa and the Arab World from 1935 to the Present: Report and Papers of the Sympsoium organized by Unesco in Paris from 25 to 27 July 1979. Paris, Unesco, 1984.

205 pp. , figs., tables. (The General History of Africa: Studies and Documents, 7.) 60 francs.

History in Black and White: An Analysis of South African School History Text-books, by E . Dean , P . Hartmann, and M . Katzen. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 137 pp., tables., bibliog. 40 francs.

International Bibliography of the Social Sciences: Economies/Bibliographie internationale des sciences sociales: Science économique, Vol. 30, 1981. London/ N e w York/Paris, Tavistock Pub-lications/Offilib, 1983. 522 pp., 560 francs.

International Bibliography of the Social Sciences: Political Science/Bibliographie internationale des sciences sociales: Science politique, Vol. 30, 1981. London/New York/Paris, Tavistock Publications/Offilib, 1984. 534 pp. 560 francs.

International Bibliography of the Social Sciences: Social and Cultural Anthropology! Bibliographie internationale des sciences sociales: Anthropologie sociale et culturelle, Vol. 26, 1980. London/New York/Paris, Tavistock Publications/Offilib, 1983. 528 pp. 560 francs.

International Bibliography of the Social Sciences: SociologylBi-bliographie internationale des sciences sociales: Sociologie, Vol. 31, 1981. London/New York/Paris, Tavistock Publications/Offilib, 1983. 382 pp. 560 francs.

Measuring Readership: Rationale and Technique, by John T . G u thrie and Mary Seifert. Paris, Unesco, 1984. 166 pp.

The Methodology of Contemporary African History: Report and Papers of the Meeting of Experts organized by Unesco at Ouagadougou, Upper Volta, from 17 to 22 May 1979. Paris, Unesco, 1984. (The General History of Africa: Studies and Documents , 8.) 60 francs.

Modelling Techniques and Development Planning in the Arab Region: Proceedings of the Regional Symposium in Rabat, M o rocco, 25-28 Oct. 1982. Paris, Unesco, 1984. 290 pp. , figs., tables, bibliog. (SHS/SES/84/ W S / 3 1 . )

Organization of Social Science Information and Documenr tation: Reports on 11 Countries. Bangkok, Unesco Regional Office for Education in Asia and the Pacific, 1983. 128 pp . (Social Sciences in Asia and the Pacific. Occasional M o n o graphs and Papers, 8.)

Science and Technology Education and National Development. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 197 pp. , bibliog.

Scientific Forecasting and H u man Needs: Trends, Methods and Message. Paris/Oxford, Unesco/Pergamon Press, 1984. 204 pp. , figs., tables. 90 francs.

Social Science Research and Women in the Arab World. Paris/London/Dover, Unesco/ Frances Pinter, 1984. 175 pp . , tables. 75 francs.

Unesco: 1984-1985—Introduction to the Draft Programme and Budget, by A . - M . M ' B o w . Paris, Unesco, 1984. 120 pp . , tables. 30 francs.

Unesco Yearbook on Peace and Conflict Studies, 1982. Paris/ Westport, Greenwood/Unesco,

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1983. 269 pp . , tables. 250 francs.

Women and Work in Uruguay, by Graciela Taglioretti. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 79 p p . , figs., ta-

,bles. ( W o m e n in a World Perspective.) 30 francs.

World Directory of National Science and Technology Policy Making Bodies/Répertoire mondial des organismes directeurs de la politique scientifique et technologique nationale!Repertorio mundial de organismos responsables de la política científica y tecnológica nacional. Paris, Unesco, 1984. 99 p p . (Science Policy Studies and Documents /

Études et documents de politique scientifique/Estudios y documentos de política científica, 59.) 21 francs.

World Directory of Peace Research Institutions, 5th ed¿ rev. Paris, Unesco, 1984. 228 pp. (Reports and Papers in the Social Sciences, 55.) 36 francs.

World Directory of Social Science Institutions/Répertoire mondial des institutions de sciences sociales/Repertorio mundial de instituciones de ciencias sociales, 1982. 3rd rev. ed. Paris, Unes co, 1982. 535 pp . (World Social Science Information Services,

Il/Services mondiaux d'information en sciences sociales, II/Ser-vicios mundiales de información sobre ciencias sociales, II.) 60 francs.

World List of Social Science Periodicals/Liste mondiale des périodiques spécialisés dans les sciences sociales/Lista mundial de revistas especializadas en ciencias sociales, 1982, 3rd rev. ed. Paris, Unesco, 1983. 446 pp. (World Social Science Information Services, I/Services m o n diaux d'information en sciences sociales, I/Servicios mundiales de información sobre ciencias sociales, I.) 72 francs.

How to obtain these publications: (a) Priced Unesco publications can be obtained from the Office of the Unesco Press, Commercial Services ( P U B / C ) , 7 place de Fontcnoy, 75700 Paris, or from national booksellers (see list at the end of this issue); (b) unpriced Unesco publications can be obtained free from Unesco, Documents Division ( C O L / D ) ; (c) publications not put out directly or in co-publication by Unesco can be obtained through normal retail channels.

Unesco publications: national distributors

Albania: N . Sh. Botimeve Nairn Frasheri, T I R A N A .

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Argentina: E D I L Y R , SRLTucumán 1685, Librería El Correo de la Unesco, 1050 B U E N O S A I R E S .

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Costa Rica: Librería Cooperativa Universitaria, Ciudad Universitaria 'Rodrigo Fació', S A N JOSÉ.

Cuba: Ediciones Cubanas, O'Reilly N ° 407, L A H A B A N A . For the 'Unesco Courier' only: Empresa Coprefïl, Dragones n. 456 El Lealtad y Campanario, H A B A N A 2.

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Czechoslovakia: S N T L , Spalena 51, P R A H A 1 (Permanent display); Zahranicni literatura, 11 Souke-nicka, P R A H A 1. For Slovakia only: Alfa Verlag, Publishers, Hurbanovo nam. 6, 89331 B R A T I S L A V A .

Denmark: Munksgaard Export and Subscription Service, 35 N0rre S0gade, D K 1370 C O P E N H A G E N K .

Ecuador: Periodicals only: Dinacur Cia. Ltda, Santa Prisca n.° 296 y Pasaje San Luis. Oficina 101-102, Casilla 112-B, Q U I T O , AU publications: Casa de la Cultura Ecuatoriana, Núcleo del Guayas, Pedro Moncayo y 9 de Octubre, casilla de correos, 3542, G U A Y A Q U I L ; Casa de la Cultura Ecuatoriana, avenida 6 de Diciembre n.° 794,

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casilla 74, Q U I T O ; Nueva Imagen, 12 de Octubre 959 y Roca, Edificio Mariano de Jesús. Q U I T O .

Egypt: Unesco Publications Centre, 1 Talaat Harb Street, C A I R O .

El Salvador: Librería Cultura Salvadoreña, S . A . , calle Delgado n° 117, A p . Postal 2296, S A N SALVADOR.

Ethiopia: Ethiopian National Agency for Unesco, P . O . Box 2996, A D D I S A B A B A .

Finland: Akateeminen Kirjakauppa, Keskuskatu 1, SF-00100 H E L S I N K I 10; Suomalainen Kirjakauppa O y , Koivuvaarankuja 2, 01640 V A N T A A 64.

France: Librairie de l'Unesco, 7, place de Fonte-noy, 75700 P A R I S . C C P Paris 12598-48.

Gabon: Librairie Sogalivre (Libreville, Port Gentil and Franceville); Librairie Hachette, B . P . 3923, L I B R E V I L L E .

German Democratic Republic: Buchhaus Leipzig, Postfach 140, 701 Leipzig or international bookshops in the German Democratic Republic.

Germany (Fed. Rep.): S. Karger G m b H , Karger Buchhandlung, Angerhofstr. 9, Postfach 2, D-8034 G E R M E R I N G / M Ü N C H E N . 'The Courier": M r Herbert B a u m , Deutscher Unesco-Kurier Vertrieb, Be-saltstrasse 57, 5300 B O N N 3.

Ghana: Presbyterian Bookshop Depot Ltd., P . O . Box 195, A C C R A ; Ghana Book Suppliers, Ltd., P . O . Box 7869, A C C R A ; The University Bookshops of Ghana, A C C R A ; The University Bookshop, C A P E C O A S T ; The University Bookshop, P . O . Box 1, LEGON.

Greece: International bookshops (Eleftheroudakis, Kauffmann, etc.); John Mihalopoulos & Son S . A . , International Booksellers, 75 Hermou Street, P . O . B . 73, T H E S S A L O N I K I ; Commission nationale hellénique pour l'Unesco, 3 rue Akadimias, ATHENS.

Guadeloupe: Librairie Carnot, 59, rue Barbes, 97100 P O I N T E - A - P I T R E .

Guatemala: Comisión Guatemalteca de Cooperación con la Unesco, 3.a Avenida 13.30, zona 1, apartado postal 244, G U A T E M A L A .

Haití: Librairie ' A la Caravelle', 26, rue Roux, B . P . Ill, P O R T - A U - P R I N C E .

Honduras: Librería Navarro, 2. a Avenida N . ° 201, C O M A Y A G U E L A , Tegucigalpa.

Hong Kong: Swindon Book C o . , 13-15 Lock Road, K O W L O O N ; Federal Publications ( H K ) Ltd., 2 D Freder Centre, 68 Sung W o n g Toi Road, Tokwa-

wan, K O W L O O N ; Hong Kong Government Information Services, Publication Section, Baskerville House; 22 Ice House Street, H O N G K O N G .

Hungary: Akadémiai Könyvesbolt, Váci u. 22, B U D A P E S T V , A . K . V . Konyvtárosk Boltja, N é p - . koztársaság utja 16, B U D A P E S T VI.

Iceland: Snaebjörn Jonsson & C o . , H F , Hafnar-straeti 9, R E Y K J A V I K .

India: Orient Longman Ltd., Kamani Marg, Ballard Estate, B O M B A Y 400038; 17 Chittaranjan Avenue, C A L C U T T A 13; 36a Anna Salai, Mount Road, M A D R A S 2; 80/1 Mahatma Gandhi Road, B A N G A L O R E 560001; 5-9-41/1 Bashir Bagh, H Y D E R A B A D 500001. Sub-depots: Oxford Book & Stationery C o . , 17 Park Street, C A L C U T T A 700016; Scindia House, N E W D E L H I 110001; Publications Section, Ministry of Education and Social Welfare, 511, C-Wing, Shastri Bhavan, N E W D E L H I 110001.

Iran: Iranian National Commission for Unesco, Seyed Jamal Eddin Assad Abadi A v . , 64th St., Bonyad Bdg. , P . O . Box 1533, T E H R A N .

Ireland: The Educational Company of Ireland Ltd., Ballymount Road, Walkinstown, D U B L I N 12; Tycooly International Publ. Ltd., 6 Crofton Terrace, D Ú N L A O G H A I R E , C O . Dublin.

Israel: A . B . C . Bookstore Ltd., P . O . Box 1238, 71 Allenby Road, T E L A V I V 61000.

Italy: Licosa (Librería Commissionaria Sansoni S.p .A.) , via Lamarmora 45, casella postale 552, 50121 F I R E N Z E ; F A O Bookshop, Via délie Terme di Caracalia, 00100 R O M E .

Ivory Coast: Librairie des Presses de l'Unesco, C . N . Ivoirienne pour l'Unesco, B . P . 2871, A B I D J A N .

Jamaica: Sangster's Book Stores Ltd., P . O . Box 366, 101 Water Lane, K I N G S T O N ; University of the West Indies Bookshop, Mona, K I N G S T O N .

Japan: Eastern Book Service, Inc., 37-3 Hongo 3-chome, Bunkyo-ku, T O K Y O 113.

Jordan: Jordan Distribution Agency, P . O . Box 375, A M M A N .

Kenya: East African Publishing House, P . O . Box 30571, N A I R O B I .

Korea (Republic of): Korean National Commission for Unesco, P . O . Box 64, S E O U L .

Kuwait: The Kuwait Bookshop Co. Ltd., P . O . Box 2942, K U W A I T .

Lebanon: Librairies Antoine, A . Naufal et Frères, B . P . 656, B E Y R O U T H .

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Lesotho: Mazenod Book Centre, P . O . M A Z E N O D .

Liberia: Code & Yancy Bookshops Ltd., P . O . Box 286, M O N R O V I A .

Libyan Arab Jamahiriya: Agency for Development of Publication and Distribution, P . O . Box 34-35, TRIPOLI.

Liechtenstein: Eurocan Trust Reg., P . O . B . 5, FL-9494, S C H A A N .

Luxembourg: Librairie Paul Brück, 22 Grand-Rue, LUXEMBOURG.

Madagascar: Commission nationale de la République démocratique de Madagascar pour l'Unesco, B.P . 331, A N T A N A N A R I V O .

Malawi: Malawi Book Service, Head Office, P . O . Box 30044, Chichiri, B L A N T Y R E 3.

Malaysia: Federal Publications Sdn Bhd., Lot 8238, Jalan 222, Petaling Jaya, S E L A N G O R ; Univer- ¡ sity of Malaya Co-operative Bookshop, K U A L A L U M P U R 22-11.

Mali: Librairie populaire du Mali, B . P . 28, BAMAKO.

Malta: Sapienzas, 26 Republic Street, V A L L E T T A .

Mauritania: G R A . L I . C O . M A , 1, rue du Souk X , Avenue Kennedy, N O U A K C H O T T .

Mauritius: Nalanda Co . Ltd., 30 Bourbon Street, P O R T - L O U I S .

Mexico: Insurgentes Sur no. 1032-401, M É X I C O 12, D F ; Librería El Correo de la Unesco, Actipán 66, Colonia del Valle, M É X I C O 12, D F .

Monaco: Brjtish Library, 30, boulevard des M o u lins, M O N T E - C A R L O .

Morocco: Librairie 'Aux belles images', 282, avenue M o h a m m e d - V , R A B A T , C . C . P . 68-74. For 'The Courier' (for teachers): Commission nationale marocaine pour l'Éducation, la Science et la Culture, 19, rue Oqba,. B . P . 420, A G D A L - R A B A T (C.C.P. 324-45); Librairie des écoles, 12, avenue Hassan-II, C A S A B L A N C A ; Société chérifienne de distribution et de presse,'SOCHEPRESS, angle rues de Dinant et St Saens, B . P . 683, C A S A B L A N C A 05.

Mozambique: Instituto Nacional do Livro e do Disco (INLD), avenida 24 de Juhlo 1921, r/c e I.° andar, M A P U T O .

Nepal: Sajha Prakashan, Polchowk, K A T H M A N D U .

Netherlands: Publications: Keesing Boeken B . V . , Joan Muyskenweg 22, Postbus 1118, 1000 B C A M S T E R D A M . Periodicals: D & N-Faxon B . V . , Postbus 197, 1000 A D A M S T E R D A M .

Netherlands Antilles: Van Dorp-Eddine N . V . , P . O . Box 200, W I L L E M S T A D , Curaçao, N . A .

New Caledonia: Reprex S A R L , B . P . 1572, NOUMÉA.

New Zealand: Government Printing Office Bookshops: Retail Bookshop—25 Rutland Street; Mail orders—85 Beach Road, Private Bag C . P . O . , A U C K L A N D . Retail—Ward Street; Mail orders— P . O . B o x 857, H A M I L T O N . Retail—Cubacade World Trade Center, Mulgrave Street (Head Office); Mail orders—Private Bag, W E L L I N G T O N . Retail—159 Hereford Street; Mail orders—Private Bag, C H R I S T C H U R C H . Retail—Princes Street; Mail orders—P.O. Box 1104, D U N E D I N .

Nicaragua: Librería Cultural Nicaragüense, calle 15 de Septiembre y avenida Bolivar, apartado n.° 807, M A N A G U A ; Librería de la Universidad Centroamericana, Apartado 69, M A N A G U A .

Niger: Librairie Mauclert, B . P . 868, N I A M E Y .

Nigeria: The University Bookshop, IFE; The University Bookshop, Ibadan, P . O . Box 286, I B A D A N ; The University Bookshop, N S U K K A ; The University Bookshop, L A G O S ; The Ahmadu Bello University Bookshop, Z A R I A .

Norway: All publications: Johan Grundt Tanum, Karl Johans Gate 41/43, O S L O 1; Universitets Bokhandelen, Universitetssentret, P . O . B . 307, Blindem, O S L O 3. For 'The Courier': A / S Narver-sens Litteraturjeneste, Box 6125, O S L O 6.

Pakistan: Mirza Book Agency, 65 Shahrah Quaid-i-A z a m , P . O . Box 729, L A H O R E - 3 .

Panama: Distribuidora Cultura Internacional, Apartado 7571, Zona 5, P A N A M Á .

Paraguay: Agencia de Diarios y Revistas, Sra. Nelly de García Astillero, Pte. Franco no. 580, ASUNCIÓN.

Peru: Librería Studium, Plaza Francia 1164, Apartado 2139, L I M A .

Philippines: National Book Store Inc., 701 Rizal Avenue, M A N I L A .

Poland: Ars Polona-Ruch, Krakowskie Przedmie-scie 7, 00-068, W A R S Z A W A ; ORPAN-Import , Palac Kultury, 00-901, W A R S Z A W A .

Portugal: Diaz & Andra de Ltda., Livraria Portugal, rua do Carmo 70, L I S B O A .

Puerto Rico: Librería Alma Mater, Cabrera 867, Río Piedras, P U E R T O R I C O 00925.

Romania: ARTEXIM—Export/Import, Piata Scienteii n° 1, P . O . Box 33-16, 70005 B U C U R E S T I .

732

. Saudi Arabia: Dar Al-Watan for Publishing and Information, Olaya Main Street, Ibrahim Bin Sulaym Building, P . O . Box 3310, R I Y A D H .

Senegal: Librairie Clairafrique, B . P . 2005, D A K A R ; Librairie des 4 vents, 91, rue Blanchot, B . P . 1820, D A K A R .

Seychelles: N e w Service Ltd., Kingsgate House, P . O . Box 131, M A H É ; National Bookshop, P . O . Box 48, M A H É .

Sierra Leone: Fourah Bay College, Njala University and Sierra Leone Diocesan Bookshops, F R E E TOWN.

Singapore: Federal Publications (S) Pte Ltd., Times Jurong, 2 Jurong Port Road, S I N G A P O R E 2261.

Somalia: Modern Book Shop and General, P . O . Box 951, M O G A D I S C I O .

Spain: Mundi-Prensa Libros S . A . , Castelló 37, M A D R I D 1; Ediciones Liber, apartado 17, Magdalena 8, O N D Á R R O A (Vizcaya); Donaire, Ronda de Outeiro, 20, apartado de correos, 341, L A C O -R U Ñ A ; Librería Al-Andalus, Roldana 1 y 3, SEVILL A 4 ; Librería Castells, Ronda Universidad 13, BARCELONA 7.

Sri Lanka: Lake House Bookshop, Sir Chittampa-lam Gardiner Mawata, P . O . Box 244, C O L O M B O 2.

Sudan: Al Bashir Bookshop, P . O . Box 1118, KHARTOUM.

Suriname: Suriname National Commission for Unesco, P . O . Box 2943, P A R A M A R I B O .

Sweden: All publications: A / B C E Fritzes Kungl. Hovbokhandel, Regerinsgatan 12, Box 16356,.

, S-103 27 S T O C K H O L M . For 'The Courier': Svenska FN-Förbundet, Skolgränd 2, Box 150 50, S-104 65 S T O C K H O L M . (Postgiro 18 46 92.) Subscriptions: Wennergren-Williams A B , Box 30004, S-10425 STOCKHOLM.

Switzerland: Europa Verlag, Rämistrass'e 5, 8024 Z Ü R I C H ; Librairies Payot (Genève, Lausanne, Bâle, Berne, Vevey, Montreux, Neuchâtel, Zurich).

Syrian Arab Republic: Librairie Sayedh, Immeuble Diab, rue du Parlement, B . P . 704, D A M A S .

Thailand: Nibondh and Co. Ltd., 40-42 Charoen Krung Road, Siyaeg Phaya Sri, P . O . Box 402, B A N G K O K ; Sukaspan Panit, Mansion 9, Rajdam-nern Avenue, B A N G K O K ; Suksit Siam Company, 1715 R a m a IV Road, B A N G K O K .

Togo: Librairie évangélique, B .P . 378, L O M É ; Librairie du Bon Pasteur, B . P . 1164, L O M É ; Librairie universitaire, B . P . 3481, L O M É .

Trinidad and Tobago: National Commission for Unesco, 18 Alexandra Street, St Clair, P O R T O F SPAIN.

Tunisia: Société tunisienne de diffusion, 5, avenue de Carthage, T U N I S .

Turkey: Haset Kitapevi A . S . Istiklâl Caddesi, N o . 469, Posta Kutusa 219, Beyoglu, I S T A N B U L .

Uganda: Uganda Bookshop, P . O . Box 7145, KAMPAL.

United Kingdom: H M S O Publications Centre, P . O . Box 276, L O N D O N S W 8 5 D T ; Government Bookshops: London, Belfast, Birmingham, Bristol, Edinburgh, Manchester; Third World Publications, 151 Stratford Road, B I R M I N G H A M B U 1 R D . For scientific maps only: McCarta Ltd, 122 King's Cross Road, L O N D O N W C 1 X 9 D S .

United Republic of Cameroon: Le Secrétaire général de la Commission nationale de la République-Unie du Cameroun pour l'Unesco, B . P . 1600, Y A O U N D E ; Librairie des éditions Clé, B . P . 1501, Y A O U N D E ; Librairie St Paul, B . P . 763, Y A O U N D E ; Librairie aux Messageries, Avenue de la Liberté, B . P . 5921, D O U A L A ; Librairie aux frères réunis, B . P . 5346, D O U A L A ; Centre de diffusion du livre camerounais, B . P . 338, D O U A L A .

United Republic of Tanzania: Dar es Salaam Bookshop, P . O . Box 9030, D A R E S S A L A A M .

United States of America: U N I P U B , 205 East 42nd Street, N E W Y O R K , N Y 10017. Orders for books-and periodicals: U N I P U B , Box 433, Murray Hill Station, N E W Y O R K , N Y 10157.

Upper Volta: Librairie Attie, B . P . 64, O U A G A D O U G O U ; Librairie catholique 'Jeunesse D'Afrique', OUAGADOUGOU.

Uruguay: Edilyr Uruguaya, S . A . , Maldonado 1092, M O N T E V I D E O .

USSR: Mezhdunarodnaja Kniga, M O S K V A G-200.

Venezuela: Librería del Este, Av . Francisco de Miranda, 52, Edificio Galipán, Apartado 60337, C A R A C A S ; D I L A E C A . (Distribuidora Latinoamericana de Ediciones C A . ) , Calle San Antonio entre A v . Lincoln y A v . Casanova, Edificio Hotel Royal—Local 2, Apartado 50.304, Sabana Grande, • CARACAS.

Yugoslavia: Jugoslovenska Knjiga, Trg Republike 5/8, P . O . B . 36, 11-001 B E O G R A D ; - Drzavna Zaloz-ba Slovenije, Titova C.25, P . O . B . 50-1, 61-000, L J U B L J A N A .

Zaire: Librairie du C I D E P , B . P . 2307, K I N S H A S A ; Commission nationale zaïroise pour l'Unesco, Commissariat d'État chargé de l'Education nationale, B . P . 32, K I N S H A S A .

Zambia: National Educational Distribution Co. Zambia Ltd., P . O . Box 2664, L U S A K A .

of Zimbabwe: Textbook Sales (PTV) Ltd. Avenue, H A R A R E .

733

67 Union

UNESCO BOOK COUPONS Unesco Book Coupons can be used to purchase all books and periodicals of an educational, scientific or cultural character. For full information please write to: Unesco Coupon Office, 7 place de Fontenoy. 75700 Paris, France. [49]

Past topics1

F r o m 1949 to the end of 1958, this Journal appeared under the n a m e of International Social Science Bulletin, not all issues of which were devoted to a main topic.

Microfilms and microcards are available from University Microfilms Inc., 300 N . Zeeb R o a d , A n n Arbor, M I 48106 (United States of America). Reprint series are available from Kraus Reprint Corporation, 16 East 46th Street, N e w York, N Y 10017 (United States of America).

Vol. XI, 1959 No. 1. Social aspects of mental health* N o . 2. Teaching of the social sciences in the U S S R * N o . 3. The study and practice of planning* No. 4. Nomads and nomadism in the arid zone*

Vol. XII, 1960

N o . 1. Citizen participation in political life* N o . 2. The social sciences and peaceful

co-operation* N o . 3. Technical change and political decision* N o . 4 . Sociological aspects of leisure*

Vol. XIII, 1961

N o . 1. Post-war democratization in Japan* N o . 2. Recent research on racial relations N o . 3. T h e Yugoslav c o m m u n e N o . 4. T h e parliamentary profession

Vol. XIV, 1962

No. 1. Images of women in society* N o . 2. Communication and information No. 3. Changes in the family* N o . 4. Economics of education*

Vol. XV, 1963

N o . 1. Opinion surveys in developing countries N o . 2. Compromise and conflict resolution N o . 3. Old age N o . 4. Sociology of development in Latin America

Vol. XVI, 1964

N o . 1. Data in comparative research* N o . 2. Leadership and economic growth N o . 3. Social aspects of African resource

development N o . 4. Problems of surveying the social sciences

and humanities

1. The asterisk denotes issues out of print.

Vol. XVII, 1965

N o . 1. M a x W e b e r today/Biological aspects of race*

N o . 2. Population studies N o . 3. Peace research* N o . 4. History and social science

Vol. XVIII, 1966

N o . No . N o .

No.

1. H u m a n rights in perspective* 2. M o d e r n methods in criminology* 3. Science and technology as development

factors* 4. Social science in physical planning*

Vol. XIX, 1967 N o . 1 N o . 2, N o . 3

Linguistics and communication* The social science press Social functions of education*

N o . 4. Sociology of literary creativity*

Vol. XX, 1968

N o . 1. Theory, training and practice in management*

N o . 2. Multi-disciplinary problem-focused research*

N o . 3. Motivational patterns for modernization N o . 4. T h e arts in society*

Vol. XXI, 1969

N o . 1. Innovation in public administration* N o . 2. Approaches to rural problems* N o . 3. Social science in the Third World* N o . 4. Futurology*

Vol. XXII, 1970

N o . 1. Sociology of science* N o . 2. Towards a policy for social research N o . 3. Trends in legal learning N o . 4. Controlling the human environment

736

Vol. XXIII, 1971

N o . 1. Understanding aggression N o . 2. Computers and documentation in the social

sciences N o . 3. Regional variations in nation-building N o . 4. Dimensions of the racial situation

Vol. XXIV, 1972

N o . 1. Development studies N o . 2. Youth: a social force? N o . 3. The protection of privacy N o . 4. Ethics and institutionalization in social

science

Vol. XXV, 1973

N o . 1/2. Autobiographical portraits N o . 3. The social assessment of technology N o . 4. Psychology and psychiatry at the cross-roads

Vol. XXVI, 1974

N o . 1. Challenged paradigms in international relations

N o . 2. Contributions to population policy N o . 3. Communicating and diffusing social science N o . 4. The sciences of life and of society

Vol. XXVII, 1975

N o . 1. Socio-economic indicators: theories and applications

N o . 2. The uses of geography N o . 3. Quantified analyses of social phenomena N o . 4. Professionalism in flux

Vol. XXVIII, 1976

N o . 1. Science in policy and policy for science* N o . 2. The infernal cycle of armament N o . 3. Economics of information and information

for economists N o . 4. Towards a new international economic and

social order

Vol. XXIX, 1977

N o . 1. Approaches to the study of international organizations

N o . 2. Social dimensions of religion N o . 3. The health of nations N o . 4. Facets of interdisciplinarity

Vol. XXX, 1978

N o . 1. The politics of territoriality N o . 2. Exploring global interdependence N o . 3. H u m a n habitats: from tradition to

modernism N o . 4. Violence

Vol. XXXI, 1979

N o . 1. Pedagogics of social science: some experiences

N o . 2. Rural-urban articulations N o . 3. Patterns of child socialization N o . 4. In search of rational organization

Vol. XXXII, 1980

N o . 1. The anatomy of tourism N o . 2. Dilemmas of communication: technology

versus comunities? No. 3. Work N o . 4. O n the state

Vol. XXXIII, 1981

N o . 1. Socio-economic information: systems, uses and needs

N o . 2. At the frontiers of sociology N o . 3. Technology and cultural values N o . 4. Modern historiography

Vol. XXXIV, 1982

N o . 91. Images of world society N o . 92. Sporting life N o . 93. M a n in ecosystems N o . 94. Makings of music

Vol. XXXV, 1983

N o . 95. Burdens of militarization N o . 96. Political dimensions of psychology N o . 97. The World economy: theory and reality N o . 98. W o m e n in power spheres

Vol. XXXVI, 1984

N o . 99. Interaction through language ' N o . 100. Industrial democracy N o . 101. Migration

Back numbers may be purchased from your Unesco publications national distributor at current single-copy rates.

French edition: Revue Internationale des Sciences Sociales . . (ISSN 0304-3037), Unesco, Paris (France). Spanish edition: Revista Internacional de Ciencias Sociales (ISSN 0379-0762), Unesco, Paris (France). Chinese edition: Guóji shehui kexue zazhi Gulouxidajie Jia 158, Beijing (China).

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Published texts m a y be freely reproduced and translated (except illustrations and when reproduction or translation rights are reserved), provided that mention is m a d e of the author and source.

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Typeset by Coupé S.A., Sautron Printed by Imprimerie des Presses Universitaires de France, Vendôme © Unesco 1984 Printed in France