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