This is a blog about the social sciences
A History of the Social Sciences in 101 Books ed Cecile Vidal et al (2023)
The purpose driving this work is to reread 101 books, published since the Second World War, that have left their mark on how the social sciences have been built, year after year, in France and around the world. In so doing, we shall encounter countless objects of study, names, tenets, and debates. We shall witness the birth of concepts now central to how we apprehend and intervene in the social world. We shall follow solidly woven lines of thought and look on as others fray and fall apart. From the cultural diagnosis of Theodor W. Adorno to the gender trouble introduced by Judith Butler, from the long time frame of Fernand Braudel’s “Mediterranean” to Randall Collins’s analysis of micro-situations of violence, from Claude Lévi-Strauss’s kinship systems to Anna Tsing’s mushroom growing amid the ruins of capitalism—this book portrays the discontinuous, multifaceted endeavor of the social sciences while showing it to be a pursuit sustained by a common effort and project.
Strikingly, no one has addressed this challenge before. It is as though the social sciences, despite being constituted as such for nearly a century and a half, still struggle to grasp what confers their unity. To portray their development, they have relied on discipline-specific retrospectives and anthologies rather than focusing on how they conjointly drive a movement that is central to contemporary thought. And it is precisely this whole, composed of many different fields, that we seek to capture. For, in addition to being connected by intellectual dynamics, transfers, and debates, these disciplines share a common position vis-à-vis the life sciences and, above all, partake in a common project—adding to the collective reflexivity of contemporary societies and furthering our critiques of ethnocentric bias.
This emancipating project is, to our minds, the crucial element. If the social sciences merit the energies expended on them, it is because they increase our collective capacity to view our societies and their institutions in a denaturalizing light. The movement by which they tirelessly explore the infinite variety of human practices, via the methods and techniques they have devised, is in fact related to their capacity to peel away the veneer of obviousness overlaying our behavior and reveal that a form of necessity, yet equally of arbitrariness, influences our collective organization. This is the emancipating effect of the social sciences—an effect they could not relinquish if they wished to. In studying human life in all its diverse manifestations, the social sciences bring to light its foundations, which, though biologically determined, are fashioned perhaps primarily by sociohistorical forces.
Doing Social Science
Paying tribute to this emancipating effect entails exhibiting the shape it takes in each book presented. It also demands that we address not just a specialist readership but all those who appreciate the social sciences for the knowledge and freedom they bring. But making these books simpler and more accessible does not imply forgoing discussion of their technical dimensions, particularly the place held by the (at times difficult) problems of method in the debates driving the social sciences. Any attempt to erase what makes them more than simple statements about the social world would belie them. Our discussion thus necessarily covers investigation protocols, data-gathering techniques, critical analysis of sources, and tools for comparison and analysis, taking in, as a corollary, the production of concepts and theoretical frameworks. This technical aspect is what “disciplines” each social science, based on established procedures for investigation and reflexivity. These dimensions also relate to the fundamentally collective nature of working in the social sciences (even when the undertaking crystallizes around a name) and to the existence of research communities, whose development and autonomy of judgment undergird advances in knowledge. In addition to focusing on what these books state, it is thus important to further examine how they ground what they say. It is likewise important to pay attention to how each partakes in a series of research debates preceding it, often modifying the parameters and subsequent course of these debates, which amounts to raising the issue of the cumulative nature of knowledge in the social sciences. We have called on some of the leading specialists currently working in France and elsewhere in the various disciplinary fields and objects of study. They go over how the publication of each book represented an event in its field, explain the effects the book produced on scientific debate, and specify where the interest lies today, without immuring each book from the living context of research or enshrining it as a museum piece cut off from any scientific tradition or collective undertaking.
This approach is intended as a dual tribute to the social sciences community. First, in bringing these books and researchers together, we wished to emphasize intergenerational solidarity. From the Second World War through to the present day, each new generation of researchers has received from the preceding one the technical and intellectual training without which they would have been incapable of producing their own works. This solidarity, however, is not merely a matter of acknowledging this legacy: rather, it entails appropriation through critique, carrying the legacy forward by building up a distance from predecessors’ thought and approach, thereby opening up new vistas. Second, by calling on so many authors, we also wished to profess our vision of the social sciences as a unified whole. Such a vision is currently imperiled by the ongoing trend toward specialization, in which researchers in the social sciences are increasingly viewed as mere “experts” on a given question or domain. This reveals the full extent of the changes to research practices over the past seventy years, illustrating how the advent of mass higher education and, more recently, the managerialization of research output have radically altered what it means to be a researcher in the social sciences, affecting career training, the processes of intellectual consecration, investigation practices, the transmission of research techniques, publication modes, and even the very ethos of the researcher and associated professional ideal. But the interdisciplinary solidarity that we hold dear has not disappeared. A hundred or so researchers have recognized our approach as their own, and the existence of this book may be viewed as an act of resistance, an assertive reminder that the social sciences form a unitary endeavor. Further, this book can be seen as proof that such a project still makes sense to many of us, at a time when other approaches to scientific work—promoting the fragmentation of research fields, emphasizing individual strategies and expertise—are being paraded as a universal model. No doubt projects such as ours will garner ever more support in the future, as the need is felt to move beyond the dynamic of hyper-specialization that bleeds all reflexivity dry and turns the social sciences away from their emancipatory project.
Better than a Pantheon
It took an institutional event to trigger the opportunity to profess this unitary and emancipatory vision and to tackle this challenge—namely, the seventieth anniversary in 2017 of the creation of a new department devoted to “economic and social sciences” at the École pratique des hautes études (EPHE). As is widely recognized, the department’s creation in 1947 was of major scientific importance in France at that time. It is equally acknowledged that this was the kernel of the institution that developed and then acquired autonomy in 1975 as the École des hautes études en sciences sociales (EHESS), where the editors of this book work. This fortuitous occasion to go back over the previous seventy years of the social sciences was the germ whence this book grew.
Our readers will thus better understand why we settled on the period 1947–2017. But we still need to explain how we went about our undertaking—that is, how we selected, chose, and prioritized such and such a book. To tackle this obviously irresoluble problem, the five editors met on numerous occasions in 2016. During these meetings, our group engaged in fierce discussions. Although we had fixed the objective of drawing up a list of 100 or so books published since 1947, new and “indispensable” books kept on coming and asserting their right to be included. It was only very gradually, painfully, that we whittled down our list to 101 titles, rather than 100, which is too neat, too tidy a number. The figure also invites others to continually reopen and enrich this selection and, as far as possible, lessens the impression inherent to this type of project that the works listed are somehow the “best.”
There was never any question in our minds of restricting our selection to an abridged series of canonized authors, supposedly equating to some golden age of the social sciences around the 1960s and 1970s. Rather, it was a matter of following the social sciences as an ongoing endeavor, characterized by its ups and downs, surprises, and fluctuations in intensity. We decided that each year was to be represented, and no author, however influential, was to appear more than once. We also opted to follow these disciplines through to the present day while remaining alert to the difficulties occasioned by lacking the requisite distance to pick our way surely through the most recent output. Lastly, we wished to limit imbalances between disciplines, between French and non-French authors, between men and women, and between historical periods and cultural areas, though our selection is obviously marked by the social conditions of research—mostly male, mostly European and American—during the period under consideration and by our project having been carried out at the heart of a French institution. So, this work is not a little pantheon. It is less monumental and less fettered. Our readers are invited to circulate freely among the books, not to admire them. Nor is it the result of a selection that could be described as objective, as if criteria could exist wholly detached from the sociohistorical situation of those choosing. We have no such radical conception of objectivity. It is clear to our minds that our choices are necessarily situated.
First, our choices are situated in time, for it is necessarily from where our disciplines now stand that we have scrutinized their pasts, looking for works that have come down through the years, standing out as “noteworthy” or “remarkable,” even as “foundational” or “representative” of a current they themselves did not envisage. But rather than engaging with the works of the past from the standpoint of our expectations, we have reconsidered them from theirs—thus arguments that have become selfevident are rehearsed afresh with the novelty they had when formulated.
Second, our selections are situated in space, for our enterprise, conducted in a French research establishment, which assumes a standpoint toward the global history of the social sciences (no doubt a very different one from that our American colleagues would have assumed if asked to draw up such a list). However, we considered the importance attached to the selected titles in places outside France and Europe. Thus, though clearly “situated,” our approach is driven by a constant effort to decenter it in both time and space.
Clashes and Choices
Our overall line led us to embrace a certain number of deliberate choices. The first and main such choice is to adopt the standpoint of the social sciences rather than of a particular discipline. That does not mean championing some flat, bland vision of the social sciences. Rather, we profess a more structured vision, drawing notably on the history of the EPHE economics and social science department and what it owed to the Annales school.1 We are mindful of what Jean-Claude Passeron has called the “epistemological indiscernibility”2 of the three disciplines underpinning the social sciences—history, anthropology, and sociology. Around this base is a constellation of other disciplines with fundamentally different epistemologies—law, linguistics, philosophy, the history of art, literary studies, economics, the cognitive sciences, and so on. The whole interest of their interaction with the three underpinning disciplines springs, of course, from this difference. Admittedly, placing certain disciplines at the center and others on the periphery is in itself controversial. Clearly, the way in which the social sciences figure the relationships between their constitutive fields sparks clashes. Additionally, while these three disciplines are the main force behind the social sciences, it is only conjointly, not singly, that they impart this drive, drawing on the exchanges, theoretical debates, and questionings issuing from the surrounding disciplines grounded in another epistemology and affecting them. One has only to think, for example, of the emblematic role played by linguistics in the 1960s.
A second deliberate choice, which is important to us, is to honor a particular form of scholarship—namely, books published under the author’s (or authors’) name. Changes currently favor the article and, to a lesser extent, chapter in a joint volume from a conference or colloquium. For its part, the world of publishing encourages social science researchers to produce brief essays, textbooks, and other “contributions.” All these formats have their merits, meeting the requirements of different publics while adding to the production and raising the profile of the social sciences. But historically, the publication of books has assuredly been central to building the social sciences, and it is the main means by which they have forged their reputation with the general public. Our choice to privilege books as the preeminent form of scholarly output explains why a certain number of important works—particularly articles—do not figure on our list, and nor do specific journal issues, dictionaries, or encyclopedias. This place granted to books does not issue solely from one of the essential differences between the social sciences and the natural sciences (in which the seminal format is the article). It also expresses the tie linking them—from the outset —to the world of the literature.3 The social sciences have an irreducibly hermeneutic and narrative dimension that stems not solely from their object of study (human activities and their historical transformations) but also from the type of labor they require, which entails framing reality as an enigma, seeking to “speak true.” This demands, or should demand, that none shirk the task of voicing and being mindful of the issues involved in describing and categorizing reality. Here once again, not everyone will agree. Within our little editorial group, for that matter, the literary question gave rise to lively debates—and the place accorded to matters of form, the feeling that the “essay” is an inherently dignified genre, or the belief that the effort involved in writing is central to all thinking, did not always emerge victorious. Claiming that one format of scholarly output has primacy, or denouncing how it is treated by our epoch, necessarily figures among the issues at stake in clashes within the highly diverse world of research and could not transpire in a different light.
Which History of the Social Sciences?
In offering a renewed, updated, and internationalized perspective on the major (together with some lesser known) works in the repository of knowledge built up by the social sciences, the panorama we sketch allows us to gauge changes in these sciences, together with the directions in which they have evolved. This book assumes these constraints and, thanks to its collaborative nature, is strongly placed to set out these discontinuities and attendant effects of convergence and densification, thus highlighting the major lines of change. One of the lines of change—perhaps the most flagrant, and in no way a discovery, but with a notable inflection over the decades studied here—is the curve traced by structuralist thought, from its emergence just after the Second World War through its domination in the 1960s, followed by its supposed decline. Did the social sciences, under the aegis of the idea of structure, manage to demonstrate their unity to themselves and triumph awhile, before researchers, naturally given to critique, set about dismantling this unifying belief? Some such nostalgic and disillusioned vision is hawked in accounts that abridge the social sciences to what they are held to have been in the 1960s—some “golden age” corresponding to that of their “great names.” But the path we follow allows us to see things differently and to recognize in the very critique of structuralism (commencing in the 1970s and flourishing as of the 1980s), in its reappraisals and rereadings, a renewed expression of the unity of the social sciences. This critical movement borrows from one discipline to the next such similar schema (emphasizing agency, refusing totalizations, paying attention to situational constraints, etc.), makes methodological recommendations that so frequently converge, and operates on such a scale that we are fully entitled to view the phase on which the social sciences embarked thirty or so years ago in a different light. This view is no longer based on the idea of decline or crisis—characterized by dispersal, fragmentation, and powerlessness even—but on the conviction that this phase exhibits a multiform yet common effort to move beyond the limits of the structuralist enterprise and to take further the goal of denaturing the social world. Starting in the 1990s, on most university campuses around the world involved in teaching and practicing the social sciences, the common language across disciplines tended to center on the idea of “social constructs,” which emerged as the most significant marker of these sciences’ contribution to public debate. From there, we may trace a second evolution, relating to the importance acquired by feminist studies, together with colonial, subaltern, and postcolonial studies. Feminist studies appeared in the late 1940s, and the others surfaced during the 1950s. It was only during the 1970s and the 1980s, however, that they genuinely took off in English-speaking academia.
It took a while for them to reach France, where they were received critically. Yet here, too—though admittedly in the central disciplines of the social sciences rather than in the fields organized into “studies”—they sparked renewed interest in matters of sex, gender, colonization, empire, and domination, steering research in the social sciences toward rehabilitating the “agency” of the dominated. In this case, no doubt more than others, the social sciences show how they are united around a common project to increase reflexivity within societies: In enabling subjects to denaturalize traditional relations of domination, the transformations to these societies gave feminist, subaltern, and postcolonial arguments an everexpanding audience and reach. In return, social science methods have been profoundly modified: confronting hitherto unsuspected practical difficulties, they now seek to better “symmetrize” the point of view of the dominant and the dominated and to avoid importing the prejudices of the dominant enswathed within their conceptualizations and research procedures.
Let us mention one final evolution, which arguably lies at the heart of how we experience the contemporary world: the change in how the social sciences apprehend humanity as a whole and the limits of our planet. Here, it is the questioning of the nation-state that is the crucial element. Constructivist thought once again played a prime role here, making it possible to flush out the overly naturalizing aspects in the conceptions that the social sciences (often unconsciously) favor for apprehending such entities as “nations,” “societies,” and “ethnic groups.” Hence the effort to “deconstruct” these notions and conceive of the realities they overlay as performances rather than as givens. Hence, too, the devising of innovative instruments, primarily methodological, to successfully vary the scales of analysis for apprehending phenomena and for thinking of social activities in terms of “networks,” without being hidebound by the preexisting blueprint afforded by social groups and borders. This is the viewpoint from which to understand the singular importance that, since the 2000s, the social sciences have attached to the dynamics of capitalism, the loss of state sovereignty, the failures in regulating (and thinking about) the ecological crisis, and the depletion of natural resources—all of which require us to extricate our analysis from a viewpoint centered on nation-states. Here, once again, the social sciences show how they are connected to evolutions in the societies within which they develop. By taking globalization as their object and conceiving of their task within this movement, they summon us to be mindful of the sociohistorical conditions engendering them and assert their genuinely political role.
Cyril Lemieux, Laurent Berger, Marielle Macé, Gildas Salmon, and Cécile Vidal