Immanuel Wallerstein, The End of The World As We Know It: Social Science For The Twenty First Century

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SOcuI ScencefOrthe
Twenty|rst Century
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Walerstein, Immanuel Mauice, 1930-
The end of the world as we know i t : social science for the twenty
frst century / Immauel Wallerstein.
p. cm.
Includes index.
ISBN 0-8166-3397-5. - ISBN 0-8166-3398-3 (pbk.)
1. Social sciences - Philosophy. 2. Soiology- Philosophy.
I. Title.
H61.W34 1999
300-dc21 99-26087
11 10 09 08 07 06 05 03 02 01 00 99 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
To Jacob, Jesie, Adam, and Joshua -
may they come to know a more useul social science
than the one encountered when came to study it
and
To Don Pablo Gonzale Casanova -
whose whole lie's work has been an attempt to put
social science at the serice of a more democratc world,
and who has inspired us all
Contents
Preface
Uncerainty and Creativity: Premises and Conclusions
PH l
IHLWURLD UF LAPlIALl5m
1. Social Science and the Communist Interlude,
or Interpretations of Contemporary History
2. The ANC and South Africa: Te Past and Future
ix
1
7
of Liberation Movements in the World-System 19
' 3, The Rise of East Asia, or Te World-System
in the Twenty-First Century 34
Coda: The So-called Asian Crisis:
Geopolitics in the Longue Duree 49
4. States? Sovereignty?
Te Dilemmas of Capitalists in an Age of Transition 57
5. Ecology and Capitalist Costs of Production: No Exit 76
6. Liberalism and Democracy: Frere Ennemis? 87
7 Integration to What? Marginalization from What? 104
8. Social Change?
Change Is Eternal. Nothing Ever Changes 118
PH ll
IHL WURLD UF KNUWLLDGL
9. Social Science and Contemporar Society:
The Vanishing Guarantees of Rationality
1 0. Differentiation and Reconstruction in the Social Sciences
1 1. Eurocentrism and Its Avatars:
Te Dilemmas of Social Science
1 2. Te Structures of Knowledge,
or How Many Ways May We Know?
1 3. The Rise and Future Demise of World-Systems Analysis
1 4. Social Science and the Quest for a Just Society
15. The Heritage of Sociology,
the Promise of Social Science
Notes
Permissions
Index
1 57
1 85
202
220
253
269
271
Preface
From 1994 to 1998, I served as president of the International Sociolog
ical Association. I urged the ISA to place at the center of its concerns
the need to reassess the collective social knowledge of social science in
the light of what I argued would be a quite transfrmed world in the
twenty-:rst centuy. Since, as president of the ISA, I was called upon
to address many meetings of sociologists and other social scientists, I
decided to follow my own urgings and use these occasions to lay out my
views on the subject of a social science fr the twenty-frst century.
The title was frnished for me by Patrick Wilkinson, who read many
of these essays as they were written. He told me one day that what I
had been writing about was in fact "the end of the world as we know it,"
in the double sense of "know": as cognoscere and scire. I seized upon this
insight as a way of organizing the collection of essays, divided into "The
World of Capitalism" and "The World of Knowledge" - the world
we have known in the sense that it framed our reality (the world of
capitalism, or cognoscere) and the world we have known in the sense of
acquiring understanding of it (the world of knowledge, or scire).
I believe we are in the midst of wandering through dark woods and
have insufcient clarity abut where we should be heading. I believe we
need urgently to discuss this together, and that this discussion must be
truly worldwide. I believe frthermore that this discussion is not one
in which we can separate knowledge, morality, and politics into separate
corners. I try to make this case briefy in the opening essay, "Uncertainty
and Creativity." We are engaged in a singular debate, and a diffcult one.
But we shall not resolve the issues by avoiding them.
|X
Uncertainty and Creativity
Premises and Conclusions
The Grst haIfof the twenty-Grst centurywiII, l beIieve, befar more
difGcuIt, more unsettIing, and yet more open than anything we have
known in the twentieth century. l say this on threepremises, none of
whichlhavetimetoarguehere.ThenrstisthathistoricaIsystems,Iike
ms,have
Gnite ves.Theyhavebeginnings,aIongdeve|pment,
andGni:eymovefrhomequiIibrium andreach points ofbi-
hrcation, a demise. The second premise is thattwo things are true at
thesepointsofbihrcation: smaIIinputshaveIargeouquts(asopposed
to times of the normaI deeIopment
oasys1em,xcn+:rnputs
have smmI ouquts),andtheoutcomeofsuch bihrcations isinherentIy
indeterminate.
The third premise is that the modernworId-system, as a historicaI
system,has enteredintoaterminaIcrisisandisunIikeIytoexistinGfty
years.However,sinceits outcomeisuncertain,wedonotknowwhether
theresuItingsystem(orsystems)wiI|bebetterorworsethantheonein
whichweareIiving,butwe doknowthattheperiodoftransitionwiII
be a terribIe time oftroubIes, since the stakes ofthe transition are so
high,theoutcomesouncertain,andtheabiIityofsmaIIinputstoa0ect
the outcome sogreat.
ltiswideIythought that the coIIapseofthe Communisms in 1989
marks a grea_rigphofIiaIism. l see it rather as marking the
deGnitivecoIIapseofIibera|sm thedeGninggeocuItureofourworId-
system. LiberaIism essentiaIIy promised that graduaI refrm wouId
ameIiorate the inequaIities of the worId-system and reduce the acute
poIarization. The ihusion that thiswas possibIewithin the hamework
ofthe modern worId-system has in fc| been a great stabiIizing eIe-
ment, in that itIegitimated the states in the eyes oftheirpopuIations
and promised them a heaven on earth in the freseeabIe hture. The
Ta at "Forum 2000: Concerns and Hopes on the Threshold of the New Milennium," Prague,
Septembr 3-6, 1997.
1
2 UNCERTAINTY AND CREATIVITY
coIIapse ofthe Communisms, aIongwith the coIIapseofthe nationaI
Iiberation movements intheThirdVorId, and the coIIapse offith in
the Keynesian modeI in the Vestern worId were aU simuItaneous re-
nections ofpopuIar disiUusionment in the vaIidity and reaIity of the
refrmistprograms each propagated. 8utthisdisiIIusionment,however
merited,knocksthepropshomunderpopuIarIegitimationofthestates
and e0ectiveIy undoes any reasonwhytheir popuIations shouId toIer-
ate the continuing and increasing poIarization ofourworId-system. l
therefreexpectconsiderabIeturmoiIofthekindwe haveaIreadybeen
seeing in the I99Os, spreading hom the 8osnias and Rwandas ofthis
worIdtotheweaIthier(andassertedIymorestabIe)regionsoftheworId
(such as the United States).
These,aslsay, arepremises,andyou maynotbeconvincedofthem,
since l have no time to arguethem. l wish therefresimpIyto draw
the moraI and poIiticaI concIusions hom mypremises. The Grst con-
cIusionisthat
s,unIikewhatth)|ig
te
mentin aIIitsfrms
preached, is not ataII inevitabIe. 8utl do not accept1hat it is there-
freimpossibIe.TheworIdhasnotmoraUy advancedin theIastseveraI
thousand years, but it couId. Ve can move in the direction ofwhat
Max Veber caIIed "substantive rationaIity," that is, rationaI vaIues and
rationaIends,arrived atcoUectiveIyand inteIIigentIy.
The secondconcIusionis that thebeIiefin certainties,ahndamentaI
premiseofmodernity, is bIinding and crippIing. Modern science, that
is,Cartesian-ewonianscience,hasbeenbasedonthecertaintyofcer-
tainty. Thebasic assumption isthat thereexistob|ectiveuniversaIIaws
governinga naturaIphenomena,that theseIawscanb ascertained by
scientinc inquiry, and that once such Iaws are kn,c can ff-
ing hom anysetofinitiaIconditions, predict perfectIy the hture and
the past.
ltisoen argued thatthisconceptofscienceismereIyasecuIariza-
tionofChristianthought,representingsimpIyasubstitutionof"nature"
frOod,andthattherequisite assumptionofcertaintyisderivedhom
andisparaIIeItothetruthsofreIigiousprohssion.ldonotwishhereto
start atheoIogicaI discussionperse,butithasaIwaysstruckmethatthe
beIiefin angfejtpd aviewcommonat Ieast to the so-caIIed
VesternreIgons(|udaism,Christianity,andlsIam),ism fctbothIog-
icaIIyand moraIIyincompatibIewith abeIiefincertainty,oratIeastin
anyhuman certainty. Ior if Ood isomnipotent, thenhumans cannot
constrain him byedictingwhatthey beIieve is eternaIIytrue, or Ood
UNCERTAINTY AND CREATIVITY 3
would not then be omnipotent. No doubt, the scientists of early modern
times, many of whom were quite pious, may have thought they were ar
guing theses consonant with the reigning theology, and no doubt many
theologians of the time gave them cause to think that, but it is simply
not true that a belief in scientific cerainty is a necessary complement to
religious belief systems.
Furhermore, the belief in cerainty is now under severe, and I would
say very telling, attack within natural science itself. I need only refer you
to Ilya Prigogine's latest book, La fn des certitudes, 2 in which he argues
that, even in the inner sanctum of natural science, dynamic sytems in
mechanics, the systems are governed by the arrow of time and move
inevitabl
y
far fom equilibrium. These new views are called the sci
ence of complexity, parly because they argue that Newonian certitudes
hold true only in very constrained, very simple sytems, but also because
they argue that the universe manifests the evolutionary development of
complexity, and that the overwhelming maj ority of situations cannot be
explained by assumptions of linear equilibria and time-reversibility.
The third conclusion is that in human social sytems, the most
complex systems in the universe, therefre the hardest to analye, the
struggle fr the good society is a continuing one. Furthermore, it is
precisely in periods of transition fom one historical system to another
one (whose nature we cannot know in advance) that human struggle
takes on the most meaning. Or to put it another way, it is only in such
times of transition that what we call fee will outweighs the pressures of
the existing system to return to equilibria. Thus, fndamental change is
possible, albeit never cerain, and this fct makes claims on our moral
responsibility to act rationally, in good faith, and with strength to seek
a better historical sytem.
We cannot know what this would look like in structural terms, but we
can lay out the criteria on the basis of which we would call a historical
sytem substantively rational. It is a system that is largely egalitarian
and largely democratic. Far fom seeing any conflict between these two
objectives, I would argue that they are intrinsically linked to each other.
A historical sytem cannot be egalitarian if it is not democratic, because
an undemocratic system is one that distributes power unequally, and
this means that it will also distribute all other things unequally. Ad it
cannot be democratic if it is not egalitarian, since an inegalitarian system
means that some have more material means than others and therefre
inevitably will have more political power.
4 UNCERTAINTY AND CREATIVITY
The funh concIusionl drawis thatuncertaintyiswondrous, and
thatcenainty,wereittobereaI,wouIdbemoraIdeath.lfwewerecer-
tmnofthehture,therecouIdbenomoraIcompuIsiontodoanything.
Ve wouId be hee to induIge everypassion and pursueevery egoism,
since a actions faII within the cenainty that has been ordained. lf
everythingisuncenain, thenthehtureis opentocreativty, notmereIy
humancreativitybutthecreativityofaIInature.ltisopentopossibiIity,
andtherefreto abetterworId.8utwe canonIygetthereasweareready
to invest our moraIenergies in its achievement, andaswe arereadyto
struggIewiththosewho,underwhateverguiseandfrwhateverexcuse,
preferaninegaIitarian, undemocraticworId.
|
Te World of Capitalism
Chuter I
Social Science and the Communist
Interlude, or Interpretations of
Contemporary History
+
A Communist interIude? 8etween what and what? And Grst of a ,
when?!shallconsiderittobetheperiod betweenovemberI9I7(the
so-called Oreat October Revolution) and I99I, theyear ofthe disso-
lutionoftheCommunistPartyofthe SovietUnioninAugust, andof
theUSSRitselfin Oecember. This is the period inwhich therewere
states governed by Communist, orMarist-Leninist, parties in Russia
and its empire and in east-central Europe. To be sure, there are still
today a hw states inAsia thatconsider themselves to begovernedby
Marxist-Leninist parties, to wit, China, the Oemocratic Republic of
Korea, Vietnam, and Laos. And there is Cuba. 8ut the era in which
there was a"socimistbloc ofstates"inanymeaningfulsenseisover. So
inmy viewisthe erainwhichMarxism-Leninismisanideologythat
commands signincant support.
SowearetaIkingofaninterIudein theeIementary sensethatthere
was apointoftimepriortotheerainwhichtherewas acoherentbIoc
ofstatesassertingthattheyweregovernedbyMarxist-LeninistideoIogy
andthattodaywemeIivinginaperiodposteriorto thatera. Ofcourse,
itsshadowwastherebefreI9I7. MarxandEngelshad assertedinthe
Manisto alreadyin I848that"aspectreishauntingEurope,thespec-
treof Communism. "And, in manyway,thisspectreisstillhaunting
Europe. OnlyEurope? Letus discuss that.
Vhatwas thespectrebefre I9I7? Vhatwas it between I9I7and
I99I? Vhat is it today? ! think it is not too difncult to come to an
agreementonwhatthespectrewasbefreI9I7. !twasthespectrethat
Ta at International Sociological Asociation's regional colloquium, "Building Open Society and
Perspctives of Sociology in Eas!-Central Europe," Cracow, Poland, September 15-17, 1996.
7
8 SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE COMMUNIST INTERLUDE
somehowthe"peopIe"seenasaImgeIyuneducated,uncuItivated,and
unsophisticated mass of personswouId rise up in some disorderIy
manner,destroyandconGscateproperty,andredistributeitmoreorIess,
puttinginto powerpersonswho wouId governwithoutrespectfrtm-
entorinitiative.Andintheprocess, theywouIddestroywhatwasseen
as vmuabIe in a country's traditions, incIuding ofcourse its reIigious
traditions.
Thiswas notatotaIIydeIusionaryhar.Thereisasceneinthemovie
versionofPasternak'sDoctor Zhivago whenOr. Zhivago,returninghom
the hont shortIy aer the revoIution to his reIativeIy paIatim home
in Moscow, isgreeted not mereIy byhis fmiIy butby theveryIarge
coIIective of persons who have occupied his home as their new resi-
dence. HisownfmiIyhasbeenreIegated to a singIeroominthevast
house.Zhivago,representingtheessentiaIideaIistic RussianinteIIectum,
isasked somewhataggressiveIywhathethinksofthis newreaIity, and
herepIies, "This isabetterarrangement,comrades,more|ust."'To the
end of his quite eventhI Iih, Or. Zhivago continues to beIieve that
it is better, even if the reader/viewer is Ie to havemore ambiguous
sentiments.
Ve knowthepoIiticmand socim history ofnineteenth-century Eu-
rope firIyweII. Let me summarize it. Aer the Irench RevoIution,
therewaswidespreadandincreasingacceptanceinEuropeoftwocon-
cepts thatwouIdhave beenconsidered strangebymostpersons befre
the Irench RevoIution. The Grst was that poIiticm change was an
absoIuteIy normaI and expectabIephenomenon. The second was that
sovereignty,nationaIsovereignty,residednotinruIersorIegisIaturesbut
in somethingcaIIed the"peopIe."These were notonIynewideas, they
wereradicaIideas,disturbingtomostpersonsofpropertyandpower.
This new set of vaIues that transcended pmticuIar states, what l
caIItheemerginggeocuItureoftheworId-system,was accompaniedby
important changes in the demographic and socim structuringofmost
Europeanstates.Therateofurbanizationincreased,andthepercent-
ageofwageIabor increased. This suddengeographicconcentration of
sizabIe numbers ofurban wageworkers in European cities, whose Iiv-
ing conditions were genermIy abysmaI, created a new poIiticaI frce
composed ofpersons who were ImgeIy excIuded hom the beneGts of
economicgrowth. they su0ered economicaIIy, were excIuded socimIy,
and had no say in the poIiticaI processes, eitherat the nationaI or the
IocaIIeveIs.VhenMarxandEngeIssaid,"VorkersoftheworId,unite,
SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE COMMUNIST INTERLUDE 9
you have nothing to lose but your chains," they were both referring to
and addressing this goup.
Two things happened in Europe between 1848 and 1917 that af
fected this situation. First, the politica leaders of the dif
f
erent states
began to ef
f
ectuate a progam of refrm, rational refrm, designed to
respond to the plaints of this group, palliate their miseries, and appease
their sense of alienation. Such programs were put into efect within
most European states, albeit at diferent paces and at diferent mo
ments. (linclude in my definition of Europe the principa White settler
states: the United States, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand.)
The programs of refrm had three main components. The first was
sufrage, which was introduced cautiously but steadily expanded in cov
erage: so" oner or later all adult males (and then women as well) wer
accorded the right to vote. The second refrm was remedial work
place legislation plus redistributive benefits, what we would later call the
" welfare state." The third refrm, if refrm is the right word, was the
creation of national identities, largely via compulsory primary education
and universal military service (fr males).
The three elements together - politica participation via the bal
lot, the intervention of the state to reduce the polarizing consequences
of ungoverned market relations, and a transclass unifing national loy
alty -comprise the underpinnings, and indeed in actuaity the defni
tion, of the libera state, which by 1914 had become the pan-European
norm and partial practice. After 1848, the pre-1848 diferences between
so-called liberal and so-called conservative political frces diminished
radically as they tended to come together on the merits of a refrm pro
gram, athough of course there continued to be debate about the pace
of refrm and about the degree to which it was usefl to preserve the
veneration of traditional symbols and authorities.
This same period saw the emergence in Europe of what is some
times called the social movement, composed on the one hand of the
trade unions and on the other hand of socialist or labor parties. Most,
although not all, of these politica parties considered themselves to be
"Marxist," though what this really meant has been a continuing matter
of dispute, then and since. The strongest among these parties, and the
"model" party for itself and fr most of the others, was the German
Socia-Democratic Party.
The German Social-Democratic Party, like most of the other par
ties, was fced with one major practical question: Should it participate
in parliamentary elections? (With the subsequent question, Should its
members participate in governments?) In the end, the overhelming
majority of the parties and of the militants of parties answered yes to
these questions. The reasoning was rather simple. They could thereby
do some immediate good on behaf of their constitencies. Eventualy,
with extended sufrage and sufficient political education, the majority
would vote them into total power, and once in power, they could legis
late the end of capitalism and the installation of a sociaist society. There
were some premises that underpinned this reasoning. One was the En
lightenment view of human rationaity: all persons will act in their own
rationa interest, provided they have the chance and the education to
perceive it correctly. The second was that progress was inevitable, and
that therefre history was on the side of the sociaist cause.
This line of reasoning by the socialist parties of Europe in the pre-
I9I4period transfrmed them in practice fom a revolutionary frce, if
they ever were one, into merely a somewhat more impatient version of
centrist liberalism. Athough many of the parties stil talked a language
of "revolution," they no longer realy conceived of revolution as involv
ing insurrection or even the use of frce. Revolution had become rather
the expectation of some dramatic politica happening, say a oOpercent
victory at the polls. Since at the time socialist parties were still doing
quite poorly at the polls on the whole, prospective victory at the polls
stil bore the psychological favor of revolution.
Enter Lenin, or rather enter the Bolshevik faction of the Russian
Socia-Democratic Party. The Bolshevik anaysis had two main ele
ments. First, the Bolsheviks said that the theorizing and praxis of the
European social-democratic parties were not at all revolutionary but
constituted at best a variant of liberalism. Second, they said that, what
ever the justification fr such "revisionism" might be elsewhere, it was
irrelevant to Russian reality, since Russia was not a liberal state, and
there was therefre no possibility that sociaists could vote themselves
into socialism. One has to say that these two assessments seem in
retrospect absolutely correct .
The Bolsheviks drew fom this anaysis a crucial conclusion: Rus
sia would never become socialist (and implicitly neither would any other
state) without an insurrectionary process that involved seizing control of
the state apparatus. Therefre, Russia's "proletariat" (the approved sub
ject of history) , which was in fct still numericaly smal, had to do this
by organizing itself into a tightly strctured cadre party that would plan
SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE COMMUNIST INTERLUDE 1 1
andorganizerhe"revolurion."Jhe "small"size of rheurbanindusrrial
prolerariarwas more imporranrro rheimplicir, norexplicir,rheorizing
rhanLeninandhiscoheaguesadmirred.Forwharweine0ecrgorhere
wasarheoryofhowrobeasocialisrparryinacounrryrharwasneirher
wealrhy nor highly indusrrialized, andwas rherefre nor aparrof rhe
core zone of rhe capiralisr world-economy.
JheleadersofrhecroberRevolurionconsideredrhemselvesrohave
ledrhe6rsrprolerianrevolurionofmodernhisrory.lrismorerealisric
ro say rhar rhey led one of rhe 6rsr, and possibly rhe mosr dramaric,
of rhenarionalliberarionuprisingsinrhe periphery andsemiperiphery
ofrheworld-sysrem.Wharmaderhispricularnarionalliberarionup-
rising di0erenr, however, hom rhe orhers were rwo rhings: ir was led
byacadre pry rhara0ecredauniversalisrideologyandrherefrepro-
ceededrocreareaworldwidepoliricalsrrucrureunder irsdirecrconrrol,
and rhe revolurion occurred inrhe parricular counrry ourside rhe core
zonerharwasrhesrrongesramongrhemindusrriallyandmilirarily.Jhe
whole hisrory of rhe Communisr inrerlude of 1917-91 derived hom
rhese rwo Fcrs.
Aparryrhar proclaims irself avanguard parry, andrhen proceeds ro
achieve srare power, cmnor bur be a dicrarorial parry. lf one de6nes
oneself as vanguard, rhen one is necessarily righr. Andifhisrory ison
rhesideof socialism, rhenrhevangudparryislogicallyml6llingrhe
world's desriny by enfrcing irs will on everyone else, including rhose
persons of whom ir is supposed ro be rhe vanguard, in rhis case, rhe
indusrriprolerariar. lndeed, ir would be remiss in irs dury were ir ro
acr di0erenrly. lf, in addirion, only one of rhese parries in rhe enrire
worldhadsrarepower,whichwasessenriallyrhecaseberween 1917 and
1945, rhen if one were ro organize an inrernarional cadre srrucrure, ir
does seem narural and plausible rhar rhe parry of rhe srare in power
wouldbecomerheleadingparry.Inanycase,rhisparry hadrhemarerial
and polirical means ro insisr on rhis role againsr any opposirion rhar
arose.Jhusirseemsnorunfmrrosrarerharrheone-parryregimeofrhe
USSRandirsdeFcroconrrolofrheCominrernwerealmosrinevirable
consequences of rhe rheory of rhe vangud parry. And wirh ir came,
if norquireinevirably rhenarleasrwirhhighprobabiliry,wharacrually
happened: purges, gulags, andanlron Currmn.
Nodoubrrheclear andconrinuous hosriliry of rheresr of rhe world
rorheCommunisrregimeinRussiaplayed abigroleinrhesedevelop-
menrs.uririssurely speciousroarrriburerhese developmenrsrorhar
12 SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE COMMUNI ST I NTERLUDE
hosriliry,sinceLeninisrrheory predicredrhe hosriliryandrherefrerhe
hosriliryrepresenredparroFrheconsranrsoF exrernalrealirywirhwhich
rhe regime always knew ir hadrodeal.
Jhehosriliry wasrobeexpecred.JheinrernalsrmcruringoFrhere-
gimewasrobeexpecred.Wharwasperhapslessrobeexpecredwasrhe
geopolirics oF rhe Sovierregime. Jherewere fursuccessivegeopoliri-
caldecisions rakenby rhe olsheviks rhar markedrurning-poinrs, and
rhesedonorseemromerohavebeennecessarilyrheonlyrourerharrhe
Sovier regime couldhave raken.
Jhe6rsr was rhereassembling oF rhe Russianempire. !n I9I7, rhe
Russianimperialfrceswere inmilirarydisarray, andvasrsegmenrsoF
rheRussianpopularionwerecallingourfr "breadandpeace."Jhiswas
rhesocialsiruarionwirhinwhichrhersarwasfrcedroabdicare,andin
which, aFrerabrieF period,rheolshevikscouldlaunchrheir arrackon
rheWinrer Palace andseizesrare power.
Ar 6rsr, rhe olsheviks seemed robe indi0erenr ro rhe Fre oF rhe
Russian empire as such. Aer a, rhey were inrernarionalisr socialisrs,
whowerecommirredroabelieF inrhe evils oFnarionalism, oF imperi-
alism, andoF rsarism. Jhey "lergo"borhFinland andPoland. necan
be cynical and say rharrhey were merely casringballasr overboard ar a
diF6culrmomenr.!rhinkrarherrharirwasakindoF immediare,almosr
insrincrive, reacrioninaccordwirhrheir ideologicalprejudices.
Whar happenedrhenwas rarional re6ecrion. Jhe olsheviks fund
rhemselvesinamilirarilydiF6culrcivilwar.Jhey wereahaidrhar "ler-
ringgo"meanrrhecrearionoF acrivelyhosrileregimesonrheirborders.
Jhey wanredro winrhe civilwar, and rhey decidedrharrhis required
reconquesr oF rhe empire. !rrurned our roberoolarefr Finland and
Poland,burnorfrrheUkraineandrheCaucasus.Andrhusirwasrhar,
oF rhe rhree grear mulrinarional empires rhar exisredin Europe ar rhe
rime oF rhe Firsr WorldWar~rheAusrro-Hungarian, rhe rroman,
andrheRussianonlyrheRussianempirewasrosurvive,arleasrunril
I99I . Andrhusir wasrharrhe 6rsr Maoisr-Leninisrregimebecame a
Russian imperialregime,rhesuccessorrorhersarisrempire.
Jhe second rurning-poinr was rhe Congress oF rhe Peoples oF rhe
EasrinakuinI92I . Facedwirhrherealiryrharrhelong-awairedGer-
manrevolurionwasnorgoingrohappen,rheolsheviksmrnedinward
andeas~ard.JheyrurnedinwardinsoFrasrheynowproclaimedanew
docrrine, rhar oF building socialism in one counrry. And rhey rurned
eas~ard insoFr as aku shied rhe world-sysremic emphasis oF rhe
olshevikshomarevolurionofrhe prolerariari nhighly indusrrialized
counrriesroananri-imperiisrsrruggleinrhecoloniandsemicoloni
counrries ofrheworld. orh seemedsensibleaspragmaricshins. orh
had enormous consequences fr rhe raming of Leninism as a world
revoluriony ideology.
Jo rurn inwd meanr ro concenrrare upon rhe reconsolidarion of
rhe Russian srare and empire as srare srrucrures and ro pur frward a
program of economiccarchingup, viaindusrrializarion,wirhrhecoun-
rriesofrhecorezone.Jorurneasrwdwasroadmirimplicirly (noryer
explicirly) rhe virrual impossibiliry of workers` insurrecrion in rhe core
zone. lrwassoro|oin in rhesrruggle frWilson`sself-dererminarion
ofnarions(underrhemorecolorfulbannerofanri-imperiism).Jhese
shifrs inob|ecrives maderhe SovierregimeFrlessunparable ro rhe
poliric leadership of Wesrern counrries rhan irs previous srance, and
laid rhe basis frapossiblegeopoliricalenrenre.
Jhisledlogiclyrorhenexrrurning-poinr,whichcamerheverynexr
year, J922,inRaplo,whenGermanyandSovierRussiaborhreenrered
rhe worldpoliricalsceneas ma|or players by agreeingro resumediplo-
maric and economic relarions and ro renounce l war claims on each
orher,rherebyeecrively circumvenringrhedierenrkindsofosrracism
eachwassueringarrhehandsofFrance,Grearrirain,andrheUnired
Srares.Fromrharpoinron,rheUSSRwascommirredro amllinregra-
rion in rheinrersraresysrem. lr|oinedrhe Leagueof Narionsin J9JJ
(and would have done so sooner, if permirred), allied irself wirh rhe
Wesr in rhe Second World War, cofunded rhe Unired Narions, and
never ceased in rhe posr-1945 world ro seek recognirion by everyone
(and6rsrof l,by rheUniredSrares)as one of rheworld'srwo"grear
powers."Sucheorrs,asChlesdeGaullewasrepearedlyropoinrour,
mighrbehardroexplaininrermsofrheideologyofMarxism-Leninism
bur were perfecrly expecrableas thepoliciesof a grear milirary power
operaringwirhinrhehameworkofrheexisringworld-sysrem.
And ir was rhen nor surprising rhar we saw rhe furrh rurning-
poinr, rhe ofren-neglecred bur ideologically signincanrdissolurion of
rhe Cominrernin J94J. Jodissolve rhe Cominrern was 6rsr of all ro
recognize F rmly whar hadbeen a reaLry fra long rime, rheaban-
donmenr of rheoriginalolshevikpro|ecrofprolerarianrevolurionsin
rhemosr"advanced"counrries.Jhisseems obvious.Whar waslessob-
viousisrharrhisrepresenredrheabandonmenrofrheakuob|ecrivesas
well, or ar leasr in rheir original frm.
akuexrolledrhemerirsof anri-imperiisrnarionliberarionmove-
menrs in rhe "East." ur by J94J rhe leaders of rhe USSR were no
longer really inreresred in revolurions anywhere, unless rhey enrirely
conrrolled rhose revolurions. Jhe Sovier leadership was nor srupid,
and ir reized rhar movemenrs rhar came ro power rhrough long na-
rion srruggles were unlikely ro surrender rheir inregriry ro someone
in Moscow. Who would rhen?Jherewasonly onepossible answer
movemenrsrharcame ro power because of andunderrhe warchmleye
ofRussia'sRedmy.JhuswasbornrheSovierpolicyrowdrheonly
parr of rhe world of which rhis could possibly be rrue, ar leasr ar rhe
rime, easr-cenrr Europe. ln rhe period J944-47, rhe USSR was de-
rerminedro placeinpower subserienrCommunisrregimesin a eas
whererheRedArmyfundirself artheendof theSecondWorldW,
essenrially Europe easr of rhe Elbe. l say essenrially because immedi-
arelyrherearerhreeexceprions:Greece,Yugoslavia,andAlbania.urwe
knowwharhappenedrhere.JheRedArmywaslocaredm noneofrhese
rhreecounrriesin J945. ln Creece, SrinabandonedrheGreekCom-
munisr Pry dramaricly. And borh Yugoslavia and Albania, which
had Maoisr-Leninisr regimes rhar had come ro power rhrough rheir
owninsurrecrionary effrrs,wouldopenlybreakwirhrheUSSR. Asfr
Asia, Srin's for-dragging was obvious ro rhe world, nor leasr of l
ro rhe Chinese CommunisrParry, which so broke dramarically wirh
rhe USSR as soon 3 ir could. Mao'smeeringwirhNixonisrhedirecr
ourcomeof rhisfurrh Sovierrurning-poinr.
Anerfur rurning-poinrs,wharwaslen?Normuchof rheoldspec-
rreof Communism.Wharwaslenwassomerhingquire di0erenr.Jhe
USSR wasrhesecond-srrongesrmilirary powerinrhe world.lrwasin
lcr srrong enough ro make a deal wirh rhe Unired Srares, which was
rhe srrongesrpower,andby lr, rhar allowedir ro care our a zone of
exclusiveinuence,homrheElberorheYu,burnorbeyond.Jhedeal
wasrharrhiszonewasirsroconrrolandrharirsheereinrherewould
be respecredby rhe Unired Srares, provided only rharrhe USSR rely
srayedinsiderhar zone.Jhe dealwas consecraredarYra andwas es-
senrially respecredby rheWesrern powers and rhe SovierUnion righr
upro J99J. lnrhis, rhe Soviersplayedrhe game as rhe direcrheirs of
rhersars, perfrmingrheirgeopoliricalroleberrer.
Economicly, rhe USSR had serour on rhe classic roadro carching
up,viaindusrriizarion. lrdidlirly well, considering a irshandicaps
andrhecosrsofrhedesrrucrionofrheSecondWorldWar.lfonelooks
atthel945-705gures,theyareimpressiveonaworldcomparativescale.
JheUSSRrceditssatellitecountriestopursuethesamepath, which
made less sense fr some oF them, but these countries too did Fairly
wellatnrst. uttheeconomicswerenaive,notbecausetheydidn'tleave
enoughplacefrprivateenterprisebutbecausetheyassumedthatsteady
"catchingup" was aplausiblepolicyandindustrializationwas thewave
oF the economic mture. !n any case, as we know, the USSR as well
as the east-centralEuropean countries began to do badly in economic
terms in the l970s and l980s and eventually collapsed. Jhis was oF
course a period in which much oF the world was also doingbadly, and
much oF what happened inthese countrieswas ptoF alarger pattern.
Jhepont,however,isthat, nomthepointoF viewoF people livingin
thesecountries,theeconomicFilureswereasortoFlaststraw,especially
given the oF6cial propaganda that the greatest prooF oF the merits oF
Marxism-Leninismlayinwhatitcoulddoimmediatelytoimprovethe
economic situation.
!twasthelaststrawbecausetheinternalpoliticalsituationinathese
countries was onethatvirtually no one liked. Oemocratic politicalpar-
ticipationwasnonexistent.!FtheworstoFtheterrorismwasoverbythe
mid-l950s,arbitraryimprisonmentandcontrolbythesecretpolicewere
stillthenormal, ongoingrealityoFlif.Andnationalismwasaowedno
expression. JhismatteredperhapsleastinRussia, wherethe realitywas
thatRussianswereontopoF thispoliticalworld, eveniFtheywerenot
allowedtosayso. utfreveryoneelse,Russiandominancewasintol-
erable. Finally, the one-party sytemmeantthat,inallthese countries,
there wasaveryprivilegedstratum,theNomenklamra,whoseexistence
madetheideologicalclaimoFtheolshevikstorepresentegalitarianism
seem a mockery.
Jhere were always very many people in all these countries who
in no sense shared the original olshevikobjectives. What made the
whole sytem collapse in the end, however,was that lge numbers oF
those who did share these objectives became as hostile to the regimes
as the othersperhaps even more hostile. Jhe spectre that haunted
the world nom l9l7 to l99l had become transfrmed into a mon-
strous caricature oF thespectrethathadbaunted Europe nom l848to
l9l7. Jhe old spectre exuded optimism, justice, morality, which were
its strengths. Jhe second spectre came to exude stagnation, betrayal,
anduglyoppression. !sthere athirdspectreonthehorizon?
Jhe Erstspectre was one notfr Russia or east-central Europe but
ratherfr Europe (andtheworld).Jhesecondspectre was onefrthe
whole world. And the third spectre will surely be that fr the whole
world again. utcan we cah it the spectre of Communism? Cenainly
not in the J9J7-J99J use of the term. And only up to a point in
theJ848-J9J7usageof theterm.utthespectreisnonetheless awe-
some and is not unrelated to the continuing problem of the modern
world, its combination of great materi and technologic advance and
extraordinarypolarizationof theworld'spopulations.
ln the ex-Communist world, many see themselves having gone
"backtonormalcy."utthisisnomorerealisticapossibilitythanitwas
when PresidentWarren Harding launched that slogan fr the United
Statesin J920.JheUnitedStatescouldnevergobacktothepre-J9J4
world, andRussiaanditsex-sateUitescannotgobackto thepre-J945
orpre-J9J7world,neitherindetailnorinspirit.Jheworldhasmoved
decisively on.Andwhilemostpersonsin the ex-Communist worldare
immensely relievedthattheCommunistinterludeisbehindthem, itis
not at ahsurethatthey, or the rest of us, have movedinto a safr or
morehope!lormorelivable world.
For one thing,theworldof the next6ny yearspromisestobeafar
moreviolentonethantheColdWarworldoutof whichwehavecome.
Jhe Cold War was higmy choreographed, higmy constrained by the
concern of both the UnitedStatesand the SovietUnionthat there be
no nuclear war between them, and |ust as importantby the lct that
thetwo countrieshadbetween1hemthenecessary powertoensurethat
suchawarwouldnotbreakout.utthissituationhaschangedradicly.
Russia's military strength, while still great, is considerably weakened.
utso, itmustbe said, is thatof the United States, if less so. lnpar-
ticular,theUnited Statesnolonger hasthree elements that ensuredits
militarystrengthpreviously: the money, popularwillingnesswithinthe
UnitedStatestobearthelossesofmilitaryaction,andpoliticalcontrol
over western Europe and|apan.
Jheresultsareready clear.ltisextremely dif6culttocontain esca-
lating loc violence (osnia, Rwanda, urundi, and so on). lt willbe
vinuly impossible overthenexttwenty-6veyears tocontain weapons
prolifration,andweshouldanticipateasigni6cantincreaseinthenum-
ber of states that have nuclear weapons at their disposition, as well as
biologicalandchemicweapons.Funhermore,given,ontheonehand,
the relative weakening of U.S. power and the emergence of a triadic
division among thestrongeststatesand, on theotherhand, a continu-
ingeconomicNorth-Southpolizationintheworld-system,weshould
expect the likelihood that there will be more deliberate South-North
mility provocations (of the Saddam Hussein viety). Such provoca-
tions will be increasingly dif6cult to handle politically, and if several
occur simultaneously, itisdoubtfulthattheNorthwihbeable to stem
thetide.JheU.S.milityhasreadymovedintoamodeof preparing
tohandletwo suchsituationsatthesametime.utiftherearethree?
Jhesecondnewelementis South-Northmigration (whichincludes
easternEurope-westernEuropemigration).lsayitisnew,butofcourse
such migrationhas been afatureof thecapitalist world-economy fr
nvehundred yearsnow.Jhree things, however,havechanged.Jhe mst
isthe technology of transport, whichmakestheprocessfareasier.Jhe
secondistheextensivenessoftheglobaleconomicand deographic po-
lization, which makesthe global push f more intensive. Jhe third
is the spread of democratic ideology, which undermines the politic
ability of wethy states to resistthe tide.
What will happen? lt seems clear in the short run. ln the wethy
states,weshlseethegrowthofright-wingmovementsthatfcustheir
rhetoricaroundkeepingmigrantsout.Weshallseetheerectionofmore
andmorelegandphysic briers to migration.Weshallnonetheless
seeariseintherealrateofmigration,legalandillegalinpartbecause
the cost of real barriers is too high, in pt because of the extensive
collusionofemployerswhowishtoutil|zesuchmigrantlabor.
Jhe middle-run consequences arealso cle. Jhere will come to be
astatisticahysigni6cantgroupof migrantlmilies(includingonenthe
second-generation lmilies)who will be poorly paid, notsocially inte-
grated,andalmostcertainlywithoutpoliticrights.Jhesepersonswill
constitute essentially the bottom stratum of the workng class in each
country. lf this is the case, we shl be back to the pre-J848 situation
inwesternEuropeanunderclassconcentratedinurbanareaswithout
rights and with very strong complaints, and this time clearly identi6-
ableethnicly.ltwasthissituationthatledtothe6rstspectreofwhich
M and Engels spoke.
Jhere is, however, now another di0erence with J848. Jhe world-
system was riding a wave of enormous optimism about the mture in
the nineteenth century, and indeed up to about twenty years ago. We
livedinan era inwhicheveryonewassurethat history was on the side
of progress. Suchlithhadoneenormous political consequence: itwas
incredibly stabilizing. ltcreatedpatience,sinceitassured everyone that
1 8 SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE COMMUNIST INTERLUDE
rhingswoudbeberreroneday,onedaysoon,frarleasrone'schildren.
lrwaswharmaderhelibersrareplausibleandacceprableasapolirical
structure.Joday the world has lost thar lith, and having lost it the
world has lost its essential stabilizer.
!tis thislossoF lithininevitablerefrmthataccountsforthe great
turnagainstthestate,whichweseeeverywheretoday.ooneeverreally
likedthestate,butthe greatmajority hadpermitteditspowerstogrow
ever greater because they sawthe state as the mediator oF reform. ut
iF it cannot play this function, then why su0er the state? ut iF we
don'thave a strong state, who willprovide daily security? Jhe answer
is we must then provide it ourselves, fr ourselves. And this puts the
world collectively back to the period oF the beginning oF the modern
world-system. !t was to get out oF the necessity oF constructing our
ownlocsecuriry rhat we engagedintheconstruction oF themodern
srare-sysrem.
And one lasr, nor so sma1, change. lr is called democrarizarion.
veryonespeaksoFir, andlbelieveirisrealIy occurring.urdemocra-
rizarionwillnor diminish, bur addro, rhe greardisorder.For, ro mosr
people, democrarizarion rranslares primily as rhe demand fr rhree
thingsas equal rights: areasonable income (a job and latera pension),
access to education fr one's children, and adequate medical Facilities.
Jo the extent that there is democratization, people insist not merely
on havingthese three, but on regularly raising theminimalacceptable
threshold for each. uthaving these three, at the level that people are
demandingeachday,isincrediblyexpensive,evenfrthewealthycoun-
tries, notto speak oF for Russia, China, !ndia. Jhe only way c0cryonc
canreally havemoreoF these is to have a radicallydi0erentsystemoF
distributionoF theworld'sresourcesthanwehavetoday.
So what shall we ca1 this third spectre? Jhe spectre oF disintegra-
tionoFrhestatesrrucrures, inwhichpeoplenolongerhaveconndence?
JhespecrreoFdemocrarizarion,andrhedemandfraradicallydi0erenr
sysremoFdisrriburion?Jhenexrrwenry-6vero6Ftyyearswillbealong
poliricaldebareabourhowro handlerhisnewspecrre.lrisnorpossible
ropredicrrheourcomeoFrhisworldwidepoliricaldebare,whichwillbe
a worldwide poliricalsrruggle. Whar is clear is rhar rhe responsibiliry
oF sociscientistsis tohelpin clari[ingthehistoricchoicesthatare
befre us.
Chuter2
Te ANC and South Africa
The Past and Future of Liberation Movements
in the World-System
The African National Congess is one of the oldest national liberation
movements in the world-system. It is aso the latest movement to have
achieved its primary objective, political power. It may well be the last
of the national liberation movements to do so. And thus May 10, 1994,
may mark not only the end of an era in South Africa but also the end
of a world-systemic process that has been continuous since 1789.
"National liberation" as a term is of course recent, but the concept
itself is much older. The concept in turn presumes two other con
cepts, "nation" and "liberation." Neither of these concepts had much
acceptance or legitimacy befre the French Revolution (athough per
haps the political turmoil in British North America afer J7o5 that
led to the American Revolution refected similar ideas). The French
Revolution transfrmed the geoculture of the modern world-system.
It made widespread the belief that political change is "normal" rather
tha exceptional, and that sovereignty of states (itself a concept that
dates at most fom the sixteenth century) resides not in a sovereign ruler
(whether a monarch or a parliament) but in the "people" as a whole.1
Since that time, these ideas have been taken seriously by many, many
people -too many people as far as those in power are concerned. The
principal political issue of the world-system fr the past two centuries
has been the struggle beteen those who wished to see these ideas im -
plemented fully and those who resisted such a fll implementation. This
struggle has been a continuous one, har fught, and it has assumed
multiple forms in the diferent regions of the world-system. Early on,
class struggles emerged in Great Britain, France, the United States, and
Keynote address at the annual meeting of the South Arican Soiological Association, Durban,
South Arica, Juy 7-11, 1996.
1 9
20 THE ANC AND SOUTH AFRICA
elsewhere in the more industriizedzones of theworldthatpittedan
enlargedurbanproletariatagainstbothitsbourgeoisemployersandthe
istocraciesstillinpower.Jhereweresonumerousnationalistmove-
mentsthatpittedthe peopleof a "nation" againstan"outside"invader
or against a dominant imperi center, as in Spain and Egyt during
the Napoleonic era, or as in the case of the multiple movements in
Greece, !taly, Poland, Hungary, and an ever-expanding list during the
post-Napoleonic era. Andtherewerestillothersituationsinwhichthe
outside dominant frce was combined with an intern settler popula-
tionthatmadeitsownseparateclaimstoautonomy,asin!reland,Pem,
andmost signi6cantly (though it is an oenignoredcase) Haiti. Jhe
movementinSouthAhicaisbasicallyavariantofthisthirdcategory.
Even in the nrst hf of the nineteenth cenmry, as we can rapidly
note,thesemovementswerenotlimitedtowesternEuropebutincluded
the peripheral zones of the world-system. And of course, asthe years
went by, more and moremovements were to be funded in what we
latercame to calltheJhirdWorld, or the South. !ntheperiodhom
circa J870 to the FirstWorldW, a furth variety emerged, that of
movementsinfrmallyindependentstatesinwhichthestmggleagainst
theAncien Regime was considered simultaneously to be a stmggle fr
therenaissanceof nationalvitality andtherefreagainstthedominance
of outside frces. Such were the movements that came into existence,
frexample, inJurkey, Persia, Aghanistan, China, andMeico.
What united a these movements was a sense that they knew who
the "people" were and what "liberation" meant fr the people. Jhey
so all shed the view that the people were not currently in power,
that they were not uuly hee, and that there were concrete groups of
personswhowereresponsiblefrthisunjust,morallyindefnsiblesima-
tion.fcourse,theincrediblevarietyofactualpoliticalsituationsmeant
thateach of the detailed anyes madeby the variousmovementswas
quitedistinctive.And,astheinternalsituationschangedovertime,quite
oenthe anyses of pticulmovementschanged.
Nonetheless,despitethevariety,allthesemovementssharedasecond
common fature as well, their middle-run strategy. r at least it was
sharedby those movements that came to be importantpolitically. Jhe
successml movements, the dominant movements, allbelieved in what
wespeak of as the wo-stage strategy: 6rstattainpoliticalpower, then
transfrmtheworld. Jheir commonmottowasexpressedmostpithily
byKwameNkrumah:"Seekyenrstthepolitickingdom,andallthings
THE ANC AND SOUTH AFRICA 21
shall be added uh to you." This was the strategy fllowed by the socialist
movements that centered their rhetoric around the working class, by
the ethnonational movements that centered their rhetoric aound those
who shared a paticula cultural heritage, as well as by those nationaist
movements that used common residence and citizenship as the defning
fature of their "nation."
It is this last variety to which we have given the name of national lib
eration movements. The quintessential movement of this kind, and the
oldest of them, is the Indian National Congress, funded in J885 and
still existing (at least nominally) today. When the ANC was funded
in J9J2, it named itself the South Afican Native National Congress,
adapting that of the Indian movement . Of course, the Indian National
Congres had one feature that fw other movements shared. It was led
throughout its most difficult and important years of its history by Ma
hatma Gandhi, who had elaborated a worldview and a political tactic of
nonviolent resistance, satyagraha. He elaborated this tactic fst, in fct,
in the context of the oppressive situation of South Africa, and later
transferred it to India.
Whether the Indian strggle was won because of satyagraha, or de
spite satyagraha, is something we can long debate. What is clear is that
the independence of India in l9+7became a prime symbolic event fr
the world-system. It symbolized both the triumph of a major liberation
movement situated in the world's largest colony and the implicit guar
antee that the decolonization of the rest of the world was politically
inevitable. But it sybolized aso that nationa liberation, when it came,
arrived in a frm less than, and other than, that which the movement
had sought. India was paitioned. Terrible Hindu-Muslim massacres
fllow
_
ed in the wake of independence. And Gandhi was assassinated by
a so-called Hindu extremist.
The twenty-five yeas fllowing the Second World War were ex
traordinary on many counts. For one thing, they represented the period
of clear U.S. hegemony in the world-system: unbeatable in terms of
the effi ciency of its productive enterprises, leader of a powerfl polit
ical coalition that efectively contained world politics within a certain
geopolitical rder, imposing its version of the geoculture upon the rest
of the world. This period was aso remarkable fr being that of the
lagest single expansion of world production and accumulation of capi
t al that the capitalist world-economy has known since its inception four
centuries ago.
Jhese rwoaspecrs of rhar eraU.S. hegemony and rhe incredible
expansion of rheworld-economy aresosalienrinourmindsrharwe
oenfailro norice rhar rhis was rhe era as well of rherriumphof rhe
hisroric anrisysremicmovemenrs of rheworld-sysrem. Jhemovemenrs
of rhe Jhird !nrernarional, rhe so-called Communisrparties, came ro
conrrol a rhird of rhe world's surface, rhar of rhe Easr. !n rhe Wesr,
rhe movemenrs of rhe Second !nrernarional were de facro in power
evejwhere, rosome exrenr lirerally and usually fr rhe msr rime, and
indirecrly rhe resr of rhe rime insoFr as rhe parries of rhe righr mIly
acceded ro rheprinciples of rhe welfare srare. And inrhe Sourh, one
narional liberarion movemenr aer anorher came ro powerinAsia,
inAhica, inLarinAmerica. Jheonlylargezoneinwhichrhisrriumph
wasdelayedwassourhernAfrica,andrhisdelayhasnowcomeroanend.
We do nor discuss clearly enough rhe impacr of rhis poliricaI rri-
umphofrheanrisysremicmovemenrs.Lookedarhomrhepoinrofview
of rhe middle of rhe ninereenrh cenmry, ir was an absolurely exrraor-
dinary achievemenr. Compare rhe posr-l945 period wirh rhar of rhe
world-sysremin l848. !n l848,wehadin Francerhe6rsrarremprof a
quasi-sociisrmovemenrroachievepower.Jheyear l848issocalled
by hisrorians rhe "springrime of rhe narions." ur by l85l, a rhese
quasi-insurrecrions had ben easily suppressed evephere. !r seemed
ro rhe powerful peoplerhar rhemenace of rhe"dangerous classes" had
passed. !nrhe process, rhe quarrels berween rhe oldlandowningsrrara
andrhenewmore indusrrialbourgeois srrara, which hadsodominared
rhepoliricsof rhe6rsrhf of rheninereenrhcenmry,werepurasidein
rhesuccessml,uni6ede0orrroconrainrhe"people"andrhe"peoples."
Jhisresrorarionof orderseemedrowork.Forsome6eenrorwenry
yearsrhereaer, noseriouspopularmovemenrscouldbediscernedany-
where inside or ourside of Europe. Furrhermor, rhe upper srrara did
nor merely sir on rheir laurels as successml suppressers of liberarion
movemenrs. Jhey pursued a poliric program nor of reacrion bur of
liberismin orderroensurerhar rhemenaceof popularrevolrwould be
buriedfrever.Jheycommenceddown rhe roadofslowbursreadyre-
frmism:exrensionofsu0rage,prorecrionofrheweakinrheworkplace,
rhebeginnings of redisrriburivewelfare,rhebuildingof an educarional
and healrh inhasrmcrure rhar conrinuously exrended irs reach. Jhey
combined rhis program of refrm, srill limired during rhe ninereenrh
cenrury ro rheEuropean world, wirhrhe propagarion and legirimarion
of a pan-European racismrhe Whire man's burden, rhe civilizing
miss10n, the Yellow Peril, a new anti-Semitism -that served to in
crustate the European lower strata within the folds of a right-wing,
nonliberatory, national identity and identification.
I shall not review here the whole history of the modern world-system
fom l870to l9+5,except to say that it was during this period that the
major antisystemic movements were frst created as national frces, with
an international vocation. The struggle of these antisystemic move
ments, singly and colectively, against the l iberal strategy of an iron
hand within a velvet glove was an uphill struggle a the way. We may
thus be aazed that, between J945and J970,they succeeded b swifly
and, when all is said and done, so easily. Indeed, we may be suspicious.
Historical capitalism -as a mode of production, as a world-system,
as a civilization -has proved itself remarkably ingenious, flexible, and
hady. We should not underestimate its ability to contain opposition.
Let us therefre start by looking at this protracted struggle of the
antisystemic movements in general, and the movements of national
liberation in particular, fom the perspective of the movements. The
movements had to organize within a politica environment that was hos
tile to them, one that was quite often ready to suppress or constrain
considerably their political activity. The states engaged in such repres
sion both directly on the movements as such as well as on their members
(paricularly the leaders and the cadres), and indirectly by the intimi
dation of potential members. They also denied mora legitimacy to the
movements and enlisted quite fequently the nonstate cutural structures
(the churches, the world of kowledge, the media of communication)
in the task of reinfrcing this denial.
Against this massive barrage, each movement -which initially was
almost aways the work of small groups -sought to mobilize mass
support and to canalize mass discontent and unrest. No doubt the move
ments were evoking themes and making anayes that resonated well
with the mass of the population, but nonetheless efective political mo
bilization was a long and arduous task. Most people live day by day
and are reluctant to engage in the dangerous path of defying authority.
Many persons are "fee riders," ready to applaud quietly the actions of
the brave and the bold, but waiting to see whether others among their
peers are joining in active support of the movement .
What mobilizes mass support? One cannot say it is the degree of op
pression. For one thing, this is often a constant and does not explain
therefre why people who have been mobilized at T2 were not already
mobilizedarJ. Furrhermore,quireoenacurerepressionworks,keep-
ing rhe less audacious om being ready ro panicipare acrively in rhe
movemenr. No, ir is nor oppression rhar mobilizes masses, bur hope
and cerrainry rhe belief rhar rhe end of oppression is near, rhar a
berrer world is rruly possible. And norhing reinfrces such hope and
cenainrymorerhansuccess.Jhelongmarchof rheanrisysremicmove-
menrs has beenlike a rolling srone. lrgarheredmomenrumover rime.
Andrhebiggesrargumenrrhar anygivenmovemenr coulduseinorder
ro mobilize suppon was rhe success of orher movemenrs rhar seemed
comparable andreasonably closeingeography andculrure.
Fromrhisperspecrive, rhegrearinrerndebareof rhemovemenrs
refrmversusrevolurionwasanondebare.Refrmisrracricsfdrevo-
lurionaryracrics,andrevolurionaryracricsfdrefrmisrracrics,provided
onlyrharrheyworked,inrheverysimplesenserharrheourcomeof any
parricular e0orr was applauded as posirive by mass senrimenr (as dis-
ringuishedomrhe senrimenrof leadersandcadres).Andrhisbecause
any success mobilized mass supporr fr mrrher acrion, as long as rhe
primary objecriveof srarepower hadnoryer beenachieved.
Jhe passions rhar surrounded refrm versus revoluriondebares were
enormous.urrheywerepassionsrhardividedasmlgroupof poliric
racricians.Jobe sure,rheseracriciansrhemselvesbelievedrharrhe dif-
frencesinracricsmarrered,borhinrheshorrrun (ef6caciry)andinrhe
middle run(ourcome). lrisnorsurerharhisroryhas provenrhemrighr
inrhisbelief, if one looksarwharhappenedinrhelongrun.
lfonelooksarrhissameprocessofmassmobilizarionomrhepoinr
of view of rhose in power, rhose againsr whom rhe movemenrs were
mobilizing,one 6ndsrheobversesideofrhecoin.Wharrhoseinpower
mosr fared was nor rhe mor condemnarion of rhe movemenrs bur
rheirporenriabiliryrodisruprrhepoliricalarenabymassmobilizarion.
Jheinirialreacrionrorheemergenceof ananrisysremicmovemenrwas
ways rherefre ro seek ro mainrain rhe leadership in isolarion om
irs porenrial mass supporrphysic isolarion, poliric isolarion, so-
cial isolarion. Jhe srares precisely deniedrhe legirimacy of movemenr
leaders as "spokespersons" fr larger groups, alleging rhar rhey came
infacr om di0erenr class and/or culrur backgrounds. Jhis was rhe
well-knownandwell-usedrhemeof rhe "ourside agirarors. "
Jhere came however a poinr where, in a given lociry, rhis rheme
of rhemovemenrasbeingmerelyinrrusive"agirarors"nolongerseemed
ro work. Jhis rurning-poinr was rhe consequence borh of rhe parienr
labors of the movement (quite ofen, once i t had turned to a "populist"
mode) and of the contagious impact of the "rolling stone" wthin the
world-system. At this turning-point, the defenders of the status quo
were confonted with the identica dilemma of the movements, but in
obverse frm. As opposed to refrm versus revolution, the defenders of
the status quo debated concessions versus the hard line. This debate,
which was constant, was also a nondebate. Hard-line tactics fed con
cessions, and concessions fd hard-line tactics, provided only that they
worked, in the very simple sense that they altered the perspective of the
movements on the one hand and of their mass support on the other.
The passions that surrounded hard line versus concession debates
were eno:mous. But they were passions, once again, that divided a small
group of political tacticians. These tacticians themselves believed that
the diferences in tactics mattered, both in the short run (effcacity) and
in the middle run (outcome). But here too, it is not sure that history
has proven them right in this belief, if one looks at what happened in
the long run.
In the long run, what happened is that the movements came to power,
just about everywhere, which marked a great symbolic change. Indeed,
the moment of coming to power is everywhere well marked in general
perception. It was seen at the time and remembered later as a moment of
catharsis, marking the accession at last of the "people" to the exercise of
sovereignty. It is also true, however, that the movements came to power
amost nowhere on their m terms, and the real change everywhere has
been less than they had wanted and expected. This is the story of the
movements in power.
The story of the movements in power is parallel in some ways to the
story of the movements in mobilization. The theor of the two-stage
strategy had been that, once a movement achieved power and controlled
the state, it could then transfrm the world, at least its world. But this
was of course not true. Indeed, it was in hindsight extraordinarily naive.
It took the theory of sovereignty at its face value and assumed that sov
ereign states are autonomous. But they are not autonomous, and they
never have been. Even the most powerful among them, like fr ex
ample the contemporary United States, are not truly sovereign. And
when we come to very weak states, like fr example Liberia, to speak
of sovereignty is a bad joke. modern states, without exception, exist
within the famework of the interstate system and are constrained by its
rules and its politics. The productive activities within amodern states,
wIthoutexception,occurwithinthehameworkofthecapitalistworld-
economy and are constrained by its priorities and its economics. Jhe
cuIturaI identities fund within all modern states,without exception,
existwithinageocultureandareconstrainedbyitsmodelsanditsintel-
IectuaIhierarchies.ShoutingthatoneisautonomousisabitIikeCanute
commanding the tides to recede.
Vhathappenedwhenmovementscame topower?Theyfundntst
of alI that they had to make concessions to those in power in the
world-system as a whoIe. And not|ust any concessions, but impor-
tantconcessions.Jheargumentthattheyall used themselveswas that
ofLenin in launching the EP (ew Economic PoIicy) . the conces-
sions are temporary, onestep backward and twostepsfrward.!twas
apowermlargument,sinceinthosefewcaseswherethemovementdid
notmake these concessions, it usualJy fund itseIfousted hom power
aItogether soonthereafer. StilItheconcessionsgrated,Ieadingto intra-
Ieadership quarreIs andpuzzIementandquestioningbythe mass ofthe
popuIation.
!fthemovement was toremain in power, there seemed tobe onIy
onepossiblepolicyatthispoint,thepostponementoftrulymndamental
change, substitutingfrit the attemptto "catch up"within theworld-
system.Theregimesthatthemovementsestablishedallsoughttomake
the state stronger within the world-economy and its standard of Iiv-
ing nearer to that of the Ieading states. Since what the mass of the
popuIation usuaIIy reaLy wanted was not mndamental change (which
was hard to envisage) but rather preciseIy to catch up to the mate-
rial beneGts of the better-ofI (which was quite concrete), the switch
inpostcatharsis poIicies bythe Ieaders of the movementswas actualIy
popular-provided itworked. Jherewas the rub'
Jhe Grstthingwe need to know in orderto determinewhether a
policyworks is the period of time overwhich we shall measure this.
8etween instantaneoustimeandtheOreekcalendsthereisalongcon-
tinuum ofpossibiIities. aturalIy, the Ieaders ofmovements in power
pIeadedwiththeirfIIowersfraIonger ratherthanashortertime-span
ofmeasure.8utwhatargumentscouIdtheygivethemassofthepopu-
Iationforpermittingthemsuch Ieeway?Jhereweretwomain kindsof
arguments. Onewas materiaI. the demonstrationthatthereweresome
immediate, meaningmI, measurabIe improvements, evenifsmall ones,
in the reaIsituation. Some movements fund it easier thanothers to
achieve this, since the nationaI situations varied.And itwas easier to
make such arguments arsome moments i ntime than atothers, given
theuctuatingrealitiesoltheworld-economy. Jherewasonlyalimited
degreetowhichitreaLywaswithinthecontroIolamovementinpower
toeHectuatesuchmeaningluI, evenilsmI, improvements.
Jherewas, however, a second kind ol argument, one aboutwhich
movements inpower lund iteasierto do something. !twas theargu-
ment olhope and certainty. Jhe movementcouId pointto the roIIing
stone oltheworId'scoLectivityolIiberationmovements andusethisto
demonstratethathistopwas ,visibly) ontheir side. Jhey therebyprol-
leredthepromisethatilnottheythentheirchildrenwouldlivebetter,
andilnotthen childrenthentheirgrandchildren.Jhisisaverypower-
hl argutent, anditdid indeed sustain movements inpowerlralong
time,aswenowcansee.!aithmovesmountains.Andlaithi thehture
maintainsantisystemicmovementsinpower aslong aslaithendures.
!aith, aswe all know, is subect to doubt. Ooubt about the move-
ments has been led homtwo sources. ne sourcehas been the sins ol
the omenklatura. Movements inpower means cadres inpower. And
cadres are human. Jheytoowish the good lile and are onen less pa-
tientaboutachievingitthanthemassolthepopulation.Consequently,
corruption, arrogance, andpetty oppressiveness have beenvinuaIIy in-
evitabIe, especiIyasthegIowolthemomentolcatharsisrecedes. The
cadres ol the newregime seemed overtime to Iook increasingIy Iike
the cadres ol theAncien Regime, indeed onen worse. Jhis may have
happenedinnveyears, itmayhavetaken twenty-nveyears,butitdid
happen repeatedly.
Stillwhat then, arevolution againstthe revolutionaries? everright
away. Jhe same lethargy that made it a slow process to mobilize the
mass ol the population against theAncien Regime operated here too.
!t takes something more than the sins ol the omenklatura to undo
movementsinpower.!ttakesacolIapseintheimmediateeconomycom-
binedwithacohapseinthecertaintythattherollingstoneisstillrolling.
Vhenthishashappened,wehavehadtheendolthe"postrevolutionary
era," as has recenrlytakenplace i RussiaandAlgeriaandmany other
countries.
Ietusturn ourlookbacktothe worldwide rolling stone, the pro-
cesswithintheworId-system asawhole.! have alreadyspokenolthe
Iong uphiII struggIe ol the movements hom J870 to J945, and the
sudden breakthrough worIdwide between J945 and J970. Jhe sud-
denbreakthroughIedtoconsideraIetriumphismandwasinebriating.
!tsustainedthe movements inthemost dif6cult zones, like southern
Africa. However, the biggestproblemthemovementshavehadtolce
was their success, notso muchtheir individualsuccesses but their col-
lective worldwide success. When movements in power lced intern
grumblingbecauseof lessthanperfectperformance, they couldusethe
argument thattheir dif6culties derivedin large parthom the hostility
of powermlexternfrces, andinlargepartthiswasanabsolutelytrue
argument. ut as more and more movements were in power in more
and more countries, and as the movementsthemselves were using the
argument of their growing colIective strength, the attribution of their
current dif6culties to outside hostility seemed to lose its cogency.At
the veq least, itseemed incontradictiontothe thesis that history was
visibly on their side.
Jhe failure of the movements in power was one of the underlying
lctors behindthe worldwiderevolutionof J9o8. AlIof asudden, one
heardvoiceseverywherewonderingwhetherthelimitationsof theanti-
systemic movements m power derived less hom the hostility of the
frces of the status quo than hom the collusion of these movements
themselves with the frces of the status quo. Jhe so-called ld Left
fund itself under attack everywhere. Wherever the national libera-
tionmovements were inpower, throughoutthe JhirdWorld, they did
notescapethis criticism. nlythosenotyetinpower remainedlargely
unscathed.
!ftherevolutionsof J9o8shookthepopularbaseof themovements,
thestagnationinthe world-economy inthefllowingtwodecadescon-
tinued the dismantlement of the idols. etween J945 and J970, the
period of the great triumph of the movements, the great immediate
promise was "nation development," which many of the movements
cled"sociism."!ndeed, themovementssaidthattheyandtheyalone
couldspeedup thisprocessandrealizeit!lly intheir respectivestates.
And between J945 and J970, this promise seemedtobeplausible, be-
cause the world-economy was expanding everywhere, anda rising tide
was lifting all ships.
ut whenthe tide began to recede, the movementsinpower in pe-
ripheralzones of the world-economy fund thattheycoulddolittleto
preventthe veqnegative impactof worldeconomicstagnationontheir
states. Jhey were less powerfulthanthey thought,andthantheir popu-
lationsthoughtfar lesspowerful. isilIusionmentwiththeprospects
of catching upwas translatedincountry aner countryinto disillusion-
mentwirh rhe movements themselves. Jheyhad sustained themselves
in powerbysellinghopeandcertainty.Jheynowwerepayngtheprice
ol
_
ashedhopes and the end olcertainty.
Into this moral crisis jumped the snake-oil salesmen, otherwise
known as the "Chicago boys," who, with the massive support ol a
reinvigorated hard line on the part ol the people in power in the
world-system as a whole, o0ered everyone the magic ol the market
as a substitute. 8utthe "market" can nomore translrm theeconomic
prospectsolthepoorer75percentoltheworld`s populationsthantak-
ingvitamins can cure leukemia. Itis afke, andwewillnodoubtsoon
run the snake-oil salesmen out ol town, but only once the damage
is done.
!n th
middIe ol aII thishas occurred the miracIe ol South AIrica,

providing a gIowolbright Iight m thisdismalworId scene. !tistime
outoljoint. !tis the I96Ostriumph olnationIiberation movements
aII over again, and it occurred in the pIace everyone had aIways said
had the worst situation and the most intractable. Jhe translrmation
happenedverylast,andwithastonishing smoothness. Inaway,itisan
extraordinarilyunlairburdentheworldhasplacedonSouthAuicaand
ontheAC. Jheyhavetosucceednotonlylrtheirownsake,butlr
thesakeolalltherestolus.AlterSouthAlricacomesnoothertoserve
as the still-optimisticmobilizerolpopularlrces, to be cheeredon by
the solidaritymovementsoltheworld.Itisas though theveryconcept
ol antisystemic movementsintheworldweregiven onelastchance, as
ilwe all lund ourselves at the decisive moment in purgatory belre
history draws its nnal verdict.
I am not sure what will happen in South Alricain the next ten to
nneen years. How can anyone be? 8ut I do leeI that neither South
AuicansnortherestolusshouIdput the burdenolthe worId on their
shouIders.JheburdenoltheworIdbeIongsontheworId. !tisenough
lrSouthAfricanstobeartheirownburdens,andtotaketheirfrshare
oltheworId's burdens.! shaIItherelre resere my remainingwords to
the burden olthe world.
Antisystemic movements as a stncture, and as a concept, were the
natural product ol the post-J799 translormation ol the geocultureol
theworld-system.Antisystemicmovementswereaproductolthe sys-
tem, theyolcoursehadto be. Howevercritical abalance sheetwe may
nowdraw, and I lear thatI have drawn such, I do not see anyhistoric
alternativethatwould have beenbetterinthemid-nineteenth century
thangoingdownthepaththeytook.Jhereexisted nootherlrcelr
human liberation. And ilthe antisystemic movements did notachieve
human liberation, theyattheveryleast reduced some humansu0ering
and held the bannerhigh lr analternativevision olthe world. Vhat
reasonable person does notbelieve that South Alrica is abetterplace
todaythanitwastenyearsago?Andwhomshouldwecreditotherthan
the national libration movement?
Jhebasicproblemlayinthestrategyolthemovements.Jheylund
themselves historicallyinadoublebind.AlterJ949, therewasonlyone
objective that was politically leasible and oltered some hope ol im-
mediate alleviation ol the situation. Jhiswas the obetive ol taking
powerin the state structures, which provided the principal adjustment
mechanism ol the modern worldsystem. 8ut taking power in the
world-systemwasthe oneobective thatensuredtheeventualemascu-
lationoltheantisystemicmovementsandtheirincapacityto translorm
theworld.Jheywere inlactbetween Scyla and Charybdis.either im-
mediate irrelevancy or long-term lailure. Jheychose thelatter, hoping
itwas avoidable. Vhowould not?
!wantto arguethattoday, paradoxically, theveryfilureoltheanti-
systemic movements collectively, including the filure ol the national
liberationmovementstobetrulyandlullylibratory, providesthemost
hopehlelementlorpositivedevelopmentsinthecomingtwenty-nveto
bltyyears.Jo appreciatethiscuriousview,wemustcometotermswith
whatu happeninginthepresent.Veareliving notthe 6naltriumphol
world capitalism but its nrst and only true crisis.`
! wantto point to lur long-term trends,each olwhich is moving
near to its asymptote and each olwhich is devastating lom the point
olviewolcapitalistspursuingtheendlessaccumulationolcapital.Jhe
brst,andtheleastdiscussedolthesetrends,isthederuralizationolthe
world. nlytwo hundred years ago, 9O to 9O percent ol the world`s
population, and indeed oleach country`s popuation,was rural. Joday
worldwide, we are blow 5O percent and rapidly going down. Vhole
areas ol the world have rural populations less than 2O percent, some
less than 5 percent. Vell, sowhat,youmaysay? Are noturbanization
and modernityvirtuallysynonymous?!sthis notwhatwehopedwould
happenwith the socalled industrial revolution?Yes,thatis indeedthe
commonplacesociologicalgeneralizationwe allhave learned.
Jhis is, however, to misunderstandhowcapitalismworks. Surplus-
value is always dividedbetween thosewho have the capital and those
who perlorm the labor. Jhe terms ol this division are i n the nnal
analysis political, the strength ol the bargaining power ol each side.
Capitalists live with a basic contradiction. !lworldwide theterms ol
remuneration ollaboraretoolow, itlimits themarket, and,as Adam
Smithalreadytold us, the extentolthe division ollabor is afunction
oltheextentolthemarket. 8utilthetermsaretoohigh, itlimitsthe
pronts. Vorkers,lortheirpart,naturallyalways want to increase their
shareandstrugglepoliticallytoachievethis. vertime,whereverlabor
is concentrated, workersareableto maketheirsyndicalweightlelt,and
this leadseventuallyto oneolthepro6tsqueezes thathaveperiodically
occurredthroughoutthe historyolthecapitalistworld-economy. Capi-
taIistscai)nghtworkersonIyup toapoint,becausealterthispointtoo
much reductionolreaIwagesthreatens tocutinto dctiveworIdde-
mand frtheirproducts. The recurrent soIution hasbeentoaIIowthe
better-paidworkers to supplythe market and todraw into theworId
workfrcenewstrataolpersonswhoarepoIiticaIIyweakandarew!Iing
lormanyreasonstoacceptverylowwages,therebyreducingoverallpro-
duction costs. vernve centuries, capitalists have consistentlvlocated
suchpersons inruralzonesandtranslrmedthemintourbanproletari-
ans, however, thesepeopleremainlow-costworkersonlylorawhile,at
whichpointothersmustbedrawnintothelaborsupply.Jhederuraliza-
tion oltheworldthreatens this essentialprocess and therebythreatens
the abilityolcapitalists to maintaintheleveloltheirglobalpronts.
Jhe second longtermtrend is what is calledthe ecological crisis.
!rom the point olviewolcapitalists, this shouldbecalledthe threat
ol ending the externalization ol costs. Here again we have a critical
process. A crucial elementin the level olpronts has always been that
capitalists donotpaythetotalityolcosts oltheirproducts. Somecosts
are"externaIized,"thatis,spreadprorataoverthewhoIeolIargerpopu-
Iations,eventuaIIyoverthewhoIeoftheworIdpopuIation.Vhenariver
ispoIIutedbyachemicaIpIant, thecIean-up(ilthereisone)isnormaIIy
assumed by taxpayers. Vhat the ecoIogists have been noticing is the
exhaustion olzones to pollute, ol trees to b cut down, and solorth.
Jhe world fces the choice olecological disaster or ollrcingthe in-
ternalizationolcosts.8utlorcingtheintcrnalizationolcoststhreatens
seriouslythe abilityto accumulatecapital.
Jhe thirdnegativetrendlrcapitalists isthedemocratizationolthe
world. Vehave mentionedpreviouslythe program ol concessionsbe-
gunin the Europeanzonein the nineteenth century, which we have
these days labeled genercally thewellare state. Jhese nvolve expen-
dtures on a socalwage.moneylr chldren and theaged, educaton,
health lacltes. Jhs couldworklr a long tme lr two reasons. the
recpents had modest demands at n rst, and onlythe Europeanwork-
erswererecevngths socalwage.Joday, workers everywhereexpectt,
and the level olther demands s sgnncantlyhgherthan twas even
nltyyears ago. \ltmately, these moneys can only come at the cost ol
accumulatng captal. Oemocratzatons not andhas neverbeenn the
nterest ol captalsts.
Jhe lurth lactor s the reversal ol the trend n state power. !or
lur hundred years, the states have been ncreasng ther pwer, both
nternally and externaIIy, as the adjustmentmechansmsolthe world-
system. Jhs hasbeenabsolutelycrucallorcaptal desptetsant-state
rhetorc. Stateshaveguaranteedorder,butjustasmportantlytheyhave
guaranteed monopoles, whch are the one and only path to serous
accumulaton ol captal.'
8utthe states cannolongerperlormthertaskasadjustmentmech-
ansms.Jhedemocratzatonoltheworldandtheecologcalcrsshave
placedanmpossblelevel oldemandson the state structures,wmch are
all su0ernga"nscalcrss. "8utltheyreduceexpendturesnorderto
meetthe nscal crses, theyalsoreducetherabltyto adjustthe system.
!ts avcouscrcle,nwhcheachflureolthe stateleads to lesswll-
ngnesstoentrusttwthtasks, and thereloretoagenerctaxrevoIt.8ut
asthestatebecomeslesssolvent,tcanprlorm exstngtasksevenless
well.Ve haveenteredntothsvortexalready.
!t here that the flure ol the movements enters n. !t has been
themovements,morethananythngelse,thathavenfctsustanedthe
statespoItcaIIy, especallyoncetheycametopwer.Jheyservedasthe
moral guarantor ol the state structures. !nsolar as the movements are
losng ther clams to support, because they can no longer o0er hope
andcertanty, themassolthepopuatonsbecomngproloundlyant-
state. 8ut states are needed most ol aL not by relrmers and not by
movementsbutbycaptalsts.Jhecaptalstworld-system cannotnc-
tonwellwthout strong states ,ol course, always some stronger than
others)wthntheameworkolastrongnterstatesystem.8utcaptal-
stshaveneverbeenabletoputlrwardthsclamdeologcaLybecause
therlegtmacy derves om economcproductvtyand expanson ol
general wellare and not om ether order or the guarantee ol pronts.
!nthelastcentury,captalstshavereledeverncreasnglyonthemove-
mentstoperlormontherLhalltheFnctonollegtmatngthestate
structures.
Jodaythemovementsarenolongerablet odoths.And,weretheyto
try,theycouldnotpuIltherpopulatons alongwththem. Jhuswesee
sprngnglrtheverywherenonstate"groups"thatareassumngtherole
olprotectng themselves and evenolprovdnglr ther wellare. Jhs
s the patholglobaldsorderdownwhchwehave beenheadng. !ts
thesgnoldsntegratonolthemodernworld-system,olcaptalsmas
a cvlzaton.
You canrestassuredthatthosewhohave prvlege wll notstback
andwatchthsprvlege gounderwthout tryng torescue t. 8utyou
can rest equaIly assured that they cannot rescue tmerelyby adustng
the system onceagan,lrallthe reasons !hve adduced. Jheworlds
n transton. ut olchaoswillcome a neworder, dBerentlromthe
onewenowknow. O0erent,butnotnecessarlyLtter.
Jhat s where the movements come n once agan. Jhose who have
prvlegewl\tryto construct a new kndol hstorcalsystem that wll
Lunequal,herarchcal, and stable.Jheyhavethe advantage olpower,
money, and the servce olmuch ntellgence. Jheywllassuredlycome
upwth somethngcleverandworkable. Can themovements, renvig-
orated, match them? Ve are amd a bFrcaton ol our system. Jhe
uctuatons are enormous, and lttlepusheswll determne whchway
the process moves. The task ol the lberaton movements, no longer
necessarly natonal lberaton movements, s to take serous stock ol
the crss ol the system, the mpasse ol ther past strategy, and the
lrce olthegene olworldpopulardscontentthathasLenunleashed
precselyby the collapse ol the old movements. !t s a moment fr
utopstcs,lorntensve, rgorous analyss ol hstorcal alternatves. !t
s a moment when socal scentsts havesomethng mportantto con-
trbute,assumngtheywshtodo so. 8uttrequreslrsocalscientsts
as well an unthnkng ol ther past concepts, derved lrom the same
nneteenthcentury stuaton that resulted n the strateges adoptedby
the antsystemc movements.
Aboveall,tsatasknetherontheonehandlradayoraweeknor
ontheotherhandlorcentures.!tsataskprecselylrthenexttwenty-
nvetonltyyears, one whose outcomewhbe entrelytheconsequence
olthe knd olnputwearereadyandabletoputnto t.
ChuperJ
The Rise of East Asia,
or The World-System in
the Tenty-First Century
Snce about I97O, the so-caIled rise ol East Asia has been a maor
topic ol discussion among those interested in the evoIution ol the
worIdsystem,whether theremphasswasontheworId-economyoron
geopoIitics.VhatmostpeopIehave hadinmindis,nrst,theextraordi-
nary rise on aIIeconomic indicators ol|apan, compared evenwththe
I96Os, second, the subsequent rse olthe so-caIIed lour dragons, and,
mostrecentIy,thecontinuingpatternoleconomicgrowth inSoutheast
Asia and the!eopIe's RepubIcol Chna. Jhe emprcaIreaItyseems
quitecIear,itisprimariIyitssignincancethatis debated.
Jhis worIdwide discussion has centered around two questions.
(I)VhatstheexpIanatonolthsgrowth, especlysncetseemedto
occurprimariIyatapointintimewhengrowtheIsewherewasmuchIess
signincant, andinsomeregions even negative?(2)Vhatdoestheeco-
nomcgrowth oltheEastAsianregionportendlor theworId-system
in the twenty-nrst century?

l propose to dscuss these two questons successveIy, as ways nto
theanaIysisolthestructureandtraectoryolthemodernworld-system.
Structure and traectoryareolcourseintimateIyIinked. Henceto ds-
cussthetraectory, tsnecessary to startwth areviewolsomeolthe
generaIpremises alut the structure oltheca
[
italistworId-economy. I
wiIIheresummarzevewst
eexp
_
e
_
atIengthe+I:c:
_
y
means olaIistolthepropositions mostreIevanttothesequestions.
ey
ote address at a symposium entitled "Perspective of the Capitalist World-System in the Be

gn
ng of
he Twenty-Fir
t Century," sponsored by the Perspectives on International Studies

project, Institute of Internat10nal Studies, Meiji Gakuin University, Toko, January 23-24, 1997.
34
THE RISE OF EAST ASIA 35
The modern world-system is a capitalist world-economy, which means

-- ' that it is governed by the drive for the endless accumulation of capital,
sometimes called the law of value.
)This world-system came into existence in the course of the sixteenth
_/centuy, and its original division of labor included in its bounds much
of Europe (but not the Russian or Ottoman Empires) and parts of the
Americas.
`
This world-system expanded over the centuries, successively incorporat
jing other parts of the world into its division of labor.
East Asia was the last large region to be incorporated, and this occurred
only in the middle of the nineteenth centuy, after which the modern
worla-system could be said to have become truy worldwide in scope, the
mworld-system ever to include the entire globe.
[}he capitalist world-system is constituted by a world-economy domi
nated by core-peripheral relations and a plitical structure consisting of
sovereign states within the famework of an interstate system.
The fndamental contradictions of the capitalist system have been ex
pressed within the systemic process by a series of cyclical rhythms, which
have served to contain these contradictions.
The two most important cyclical rhythms have been the 50/60-year Kon
dratief cycles in which the primary sources of proft alternate between
the sphere of production and the fnancial arena, and the 100/150-
year hegemonic cycles consisting of the rise and decline of successive
guarantors of global order, each one with its paricular pattern of control.
,;;The cyclical rhythms resulted in regular slow-moving but signifcant ge-

ographical shifts in the loci of accumulation and pwer, without however
changing the fndamental relations of inequality within the system.

hese cycles were never perfectly symmetrical, but rather each new cy
- de brought about small but signifcant strctural shits in paricular
directions that constitute the secular trends of the system.
`
The modern world-system, like all systems, is fnite in duration and wil
"me to an end when its secular trends reach a point such that the fuc-
tuations of the system become suffciently wide and erratic that they can
no longer ensure the renewed viability of the system's institutions. When
this point is reached, a bifrcation will occur, and va a period of (chaotic)
traiton the -xstem.iL<g .!. _berplaced by one or several other
*~* '
` . ` ' '` ~ - . . _ _
systems .
^
36 THE RISE OF EAST ASIA
Withinthissetofptemises,onecananalyzetheso-calledtiseofEast
Asiaquiteeasily. !toccutteddutingaKondtatie-phase,apetiodthat
was also thebeginningofthe decline ,ot-phase)ofU. S. hegemony.
Whethetthissamepetiodconstitutedalsothebeginningoftheageof
ttansition thesubjectofsttenuousdebate. Thisdesctiptionallowsus
to discussmotecleatly thetwoquestions at hand.theexplanation of
the ptesent-past situation ofEastAsia, and theimpottofEastAsia's
tise ft the mtute.
WhatcanwesayaboutKondtatie-phasesingenetal?Theynot-
mallyhavesevetalgenetafatutes ifone compates them toA-phases.
ptontsf:omptoductionatedown,andlatgecapitaliststendtos]i]tthej
pont-seeking tii:i s t
_
__ t -,;|g, !:ich is the te+f
speculation. Wotldwide, wage employment is down. Jhe squeeze on
ptoductionpto6ts leads to signinc:itteltinofprodutiona_
theptiotityoflowttansactions costsyieldingtotheptiotity(f_ teduced
wage levels and mote ef6 cient managemetThe sqeeze o l,
mentleads to acute competitionbetweenthe statesthatatecentetso
accumulation, which seek:oepotttheunemp|mentto eacb
to the degte thattheycanJhisleadsintutnto ucmatiang

rtes. !tis notdif6cult to shwthtr! Iasbecnoccuttig the
ptid fom about J967-73 to today.
Eotthemajotity of ateas of the wotld,sucha Kondtatie-phase
ispetceivedasadowntutn,otbadtimes,"incompatisonwiththepte-
vious A-phase. Howevet, itisnevetthe casethat such apetiod isbad
fteveqone.Eotonething,latgpitalisottleastsomI-
italists,maybeable tonndaltetna ptontableletssuchthattheit
individuallevelofaccumulationtises. AnuesionofIc1'
mtes oI a Kondratm -phase isthe!ocat1onofpdtive..+,
u is notmally
the cae mt some znc u he orld-systemsa.-

ni6cant imptove:nent in its ovetall economic sianding, andrhe:efre
prcives tepetiod as good times."
.
. *"* ""*** ^ ` = ^
! speakofsome economiczone"becauseitis seldominsctibedbe-
ftehand exactly which zone this w be, and usually at 6 tst sevetaI
zonescompetevigotouslytobetheptimebene6ciatyofthistelocation.
ut itis also notmallythe case thatonlyonesuch zoneis in fctable
to dovetywell,sincetheteisonlysomuchptoductionactivitytotelo-
cate, andtheteateeconomicadvantagesftptoducetsm concenttating
thetelocation m one atea. The basic pictute thusisoneofopponunity
ftsevetalzones,butgteatsuccessftonlyoneofthem.! temindyou
THE RI SE OF EAST ASI A 37
that as tecently as the I970s, when the tetm N!Cs ,newlyindusttial-
ized countties)was invented, mostcommentatots listed futcountties
asthemostsigni6cantexamples.Mexico,tazil, SouthKotea,andTai-
wan. utby the I930s,Mexicoandtazilbeganto bedtoppednom
the list ofexamples, and in the I990swe heat talkonIyofthe tise
of East Asia." lt is thus cle that it is East Asia that has been the
gteatbene6ciaty ofthegeogtaphicaltesttuctutingofthis Kondtatie
-phase.
Ofcoutse, we must also explain why it is that EastAsiawas the
gteatbene6ciatytathetthan,say, tazil ot South Asia. Some scholats
atttibute the ptesent tise of East Asia to its histoty ovet the past6ve
hundtedyrats.eithettheMeijiRevolution,accountedftintutnbythe
commetcialdevelopmentoftheEdopetiod ,Kawakatsu Heita), otthe
China-centetedttibutatysytem,TakeshiHamashita) .Howevet,itcan
beplausiblyatgued that, as of I945, the economic situation oftazil
otSouth AsiawasnotinfctallthatdietentfomthatofEastAsia,
andthatthetefteonecouldteasonablyhaveexpectedeithetofthemto
havemadeasutgeftwatdinthepost-I94 5wotld.Thegteatdietence
betweenEastAsiaontheonehandandbothtazilandSouthAsiaon
the othetwas the geogtaphy ofthe ColdWat. EastAsiawas on the
nont line, and the othettwowetenot. HencetheviewoftheUnited
Stateswasquite dietent.|apanwasavetygteateconomicbenehciaty
oftheKoteanWataswellasofditectU. S. assistance.othSouthKotea
andTaiwanwetesuppotted,andindulged)economically,politically,and
militatilyftColdWatteasons.This dietenceinthe I945-70petiod
ttanslateditselfintothectucialadvantagefttheI970-I995petiod.
TheeconomicconsequenceofthetiseofEastAsiahasbeentottans-
ftm theeconomicgeogtaphyofthepostwatwotld.!nthe I950s,the
UnitedStateswastheonlymajotcentetofcapitalaccumulation. ythe
I9o0s, westetn Eutope hadbecomeagain a majotcentet. And by the
I970s,|apan,andmotegenetallyEastAsia)hadbecomethethitd.We
hadattived atthe so-cahed ttiad. Thetiseofwestetn Eutope and East
Asiameantnecessatily a lessened tole ft U. S. -based economicsttuc-
tutes, andthe 6nances ofthe United States state sueted accotdingly.
!n the I930s, the United States acquiteda huge extetnal debt to pay
ftits militaty Keynesianism, and in the I990sthe United States has
given ptiotity to teducing state expenditute. This has had in tutn a
ma|otimpactonits ability to conduct militatyactivities. Eot exple,
the U. S. militaty victoty in the OlfWatwas dependent onthe fct
thatitsfrceswerennancedbyfurotherstates: SaudiArabia,Kuwmt,
Germany, and|apan.
lfonelooksatasomewhatlongerperiod,therwocenturiesthatrun
hom I 799 to I999, one observes another mndamental reality of the
modern world-system,andherealsoEastAsiaplayedanotable role. lt
isthestoryofthepoliticalstabilizationoftheworld-system.Jhestory
stanswiththeFrenchRevolution.'JheFrenchRevolutiontransfrmed
thecapitalistworld-systemby itsculturalimpact.Jhemostsigni6cant
lasting consequence of the revolutionary turmoil and its Napoleonic
aftermath was the widespread acceptance, fr the 6rst time, of two
basic themes associated with it: the normality of political change and
hence its mndamental legitimation, and the view that a state's sover-
eigntywasincarnatednotinthepersonoftherulerorinthelegislature
butrather inthe"people," andhencethe denialof morallegitimacy to
nondemocratic regimes.
Jhese weretruly revolutionary and dangerousideas, andthreatened
allestablishedauthority. Eversince,allthosewhoen|oyprivJegewithin
the existing system have had to contend with these ideas and to seek
to containtheireects.Jheprincipalway inwhichthishasbeendone
has been by the erection and propagation of ideologies, which are in
lctpolitic l strategiesto dealwiththemassivespreadof thesevalues.
[ Historically,threema|orideologieswereputfnh,asmodesof
ment.Jhe 6rst, mostimmediate, and mostobvious was
whichsoughtinitially simply to re|ectoutright these popuiesas
hereceral s
aroseas an ideology to counter conservatism, its

proponents ctiir ng conservatism to be a rigid and self defating
|response to thechallenge. ln its place, liberalsargued the necessity of
channelingthesepopulistvalues,byacceptingtheirlegitimacyintheory
|
butslowingdownthepaceof realizingtheminpractice.Jhey didthis
, by insisting that the rational ipemenro fthese values required
i, theintermediationofspecialists.
so
iroseasthethird
ideology, a breakaway hom liberalism. Jhe aics were appalled by
the timidity of the liberals, and deeply suspicious of the motives and
jinrentionsofthespecialists.Jheyinsistedtherefreontheimportance
of popular control of theadministrationof change.Jhey argued mr-
ther thatonly rapid transfrmation could stemthe underlying popular
,pressuretodestabilizesociallifandmakepossiblethe re-creationof a
,harmonious social reality.
Jhebattlebetweentheadvocatesofthethreeideologieshasbeenthe
THE RI SE OF EAST ASIA 39
central political story of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Two
thingre clear about these battles in retrospect. The first is that r
m
"
o
i
eo
l
s
-prct!.t
i
-: q
de
ite
._
rhetoric
_
ree empl9yg. The movements frmed in the name of these ideolo-
g
i
g
h! _pQt
ic
. }PP09Y-.r- 4,the,
ir
P?litical aim by usi1g and
)g q|g _ _(E?.
e
l} _
had
_
i
!
.
The result was a continuous and significant increase in the administra-
tive a p
p
ar
aq-
ff
e
c.
ti
<
.
-jIIm
a
!,
hineries,
. and in
t
he
s'cope of the legislative interentions that governments made. The jus
tification ofered has regularly been the implementation of the vaues
made popular by the French Revolution.
The second thing to note is that fr a long period -to be precise,
between 1848 and 1968 -Jbe
r_ r: ?L
he.im!
g
:
_
'
t
h
ree
_ 1C..
i
JLS?!
t
-$9X?i!.2!1:s
t
l:]
his can
'-n m the fact that afer 1848 (and until 1968) both conservatives
and radicals modified their views in practice, and even in rhetoric, to
ofer versions of their ideology that turned out to be mere variants of the
political program of the liberal center. The diferences beteen the two
of them and the liberals, originally ones of fndamental principle, were
increasingly reduced to arguments about the rapidity of change: slow
if possible, said the conservatives; fst if possible, said the radicas; and
at just the right speed, decreed the liberals. This reduction of the de
bates to one more about the pace of change than about its content is the
source of the complaint, which became ever more accentuated over the
period, about the minimal diference that the repeated changes in gov
ernment amost everywhere have realy made, if analyzed over a medium
term, even when such changes were proclaimed as "revolutionary."
- To be sure, this is not the whole political story of the nineteenth and
twentieth centuries. We need also to explain how it is that the pop
ulist ideas that had gotten such a strong hold in the wake of the French
Revolution, a hold strong enough to frce al major political frces even
tally to pay lip service to these values, could have been so well contained
in practice. For it was not at al easy to do this. The same period (1848-
1968), which! have suggested was the era of the triumph of liberaism
within the geoculture of the world-syter (and therefre the triumph
of a program of very moderate political change controlled by elites),
was aso afer all the period of the birth, rise, and yes triumph of the so
caled Old Left. Now the members of this Old Lef had always assered
that their objectives were antisystemic, that is, that they were continuing
thebattle oftheEtench Revolutiontoachieve, butthistimettulyand
fu y, thettinityoflibetty, equahty, andfatetnity.
While the values of the Etench Revolution had indeed become
widesptead intheeatly nineteenth centuq, theextensive andgtowing
inequalities of the teal wotld made it in fact exttemely difncult fot
populat fotces to otganize politicly. At ntst, they had neithet votes
notmoneynotttained cadtes. Itwas along, atduous, and uphiI battle
to cteate the otganizational sttuctutes thateventulywouldbecome a
globalnetwotkoftadical-populat movements.
The,,econ_[genjtysawthe slowcteationof
bureaucratic structutes- trade unions, socialistand laborparties, and
nationalist parties-primary in Europe and North America at this
point,buttherewere alreadysomeinthenon-Europeanworld.Atthis
stage, togetevenonepersonelectedto Parliamentortowinevenone
important strike seemed 3 achievement. The antisystemicorganiza-
tions concentrated on creating a cadre of militants, mobilizing larget
gtoupsfotcollectiveactivities,andeducatingthemftpoliticalaction.
This petiod _
ajltaneously the
moment ofthe last gteat_ gq-

grz,ic ansionof
tc ng
t tptation
ofEastAsia.Itsthe mmcntas meUof:helastgteatditectpolitical
subotdinatien oth ptiphe;y~thc+oI:.izatiof^ia, South
east Asia, and the Pacinc. Itwas in addition the moment of,uehtst
gteat demonsttatio
p_|t]e
.pos- ,t+oli.|advance
thacotudaffect the quahtyof ey;ydayl;fe. thetailtoad, then the au-
tmobiIe ad rplane,th telegtaph and telephone, the electtic light,
the tadio, household appliances- al of which seemed dazzling and
seemedto conntmtheplausibilityofthelibetalptomiseofthegtadual
improvementofthe conditionsforeveryone.
lfoneputstheseelements together-thedfective organization of
theworkingclassesinEuropeandNorthAmericaandtheirentry,how-
ever marginal) into ordinary parliamentary politics, the beginning of
a material payofrthe European working classes, and the acme of
Eutopean dominance of the non-European wotld-one has no dif-
nculty undetstanding why the thteefold libetal political ptogtam fot
the Eutopeanwotkingclasses ,univetsalsutage, the welfate state, and
the cteationofanationalidentity,onethatwas combinedwithWhite
tacism)wasablebytheeatlytwentiethcentutytotametheseEutopean
dangetous classes.
Itispteciselyatthispoint,howevet, thattheOtient"taiseditspo-
liticalheadintheworld-system.The)apanesedeleatolRussiainI9O5
was the nxst sign that there could be a rollback ol European expan-
sion. The Chinese Revolution olI9IIcommencedtheprocessolthe
reconstitution ol the Middle Kingdom, the world's oldest and demo-
graphica lylargest entity. !n asense,EastAsia, lastto beincorporated,
was nrst to begin the process olbringing down European triumphal-
ism.'The greatAlrican-AmericanleaderV. E. 8. Ou 8ois had said
in I9OO thatthetwentieth centurywas to be the century olthe color
line. Hewas proved entirely right. The dangerous classes ol Europe
mighthave beentamed, but the muchlargerdangerous classes olthe
non-European world posed a problem lr world order lor the twen-
tieth century to replace the nineteenth-century dangers that had been
resolved.
Theliberalsmadeavaliant,andatnrstseeminglysuccesshl,attempt
to repeattheir successhlstrategyandtotame the dangerous classes ol
the non-European world as wel . n the one hand, the national lib-
eration movements olthe non-European world gained organizational
and political strength and put increasing pressure on the colonial and
imperialist pwers. This process reached a point olmaximum strength
in the twent_-nveyears fo own o_,th Scppq,_gQ
n the other hand, the liberals oBered a world program ol the sell-
d
(
r
)
ag
[
of nau
.!l j1
)el

_
v
__
economic development ol
underdevelope
_
nations (the ar
el
he
w
_
t
[
),
h t
g
e, e
t t
[
essential d
d ol t
g
_
,
Europe
n world.
` `
^ `
`T:~le:+iod,
theperiod -]_gtheL ]d.1re

to power basica y on the
sIsp{bra pI)ti]pg@s,n
[
uropc/o
__
r
__
e ld Let obtain
d the luL politica legiti-

mation olits parties andtheimplementationolIB employment anda
we are state thatwentmuchartherthananythingthathad been con-
structed prcviously. !ntherestoltheworld, nationalliberation and/ or
Communistmovementscameto powerinalarge numberolcountries,
achievingtheirimmediatepoliticalobjectives andlaunchingaprogram
olnational economic development.
Vhat
the membersoltheldLehhadachievedbythispointwas,
however, not at all what they had originally set out to achieve in the
midnineteenth century. Theyhad notbroughtdownthesystem.They
had not obtainedatrulydemocratic, egalitarianworld. Vhat theyhad
achieved was at most hal a pie, exactly what the liberals had set out
42 THE RI SE OF EAST ASIA
to offer themintheGrstha|foffhe ninefeenfh centur. lffheywere
"tamed" at this point, that is, if they were ready fo work within the
wor|d-system pursuing deve|opmenfa|isf, refrmist obycfives, if is nof
becausetheywere satisGedwifh ha|fapie. Iaruom if. lfwas thaffhe
popu|arfrcestru|ybe|ievedfhatfheywereenroufefogetfingfhewho|e
pie. ltwasbecause ofthe incremenfa|ist hope (and faith) ofthemass
ofthepopu|ationsthatfheirchi|drenwou|dinheriffhewor|dfhatthe
movementswereab|eto channe|theirrevo|utionaryardorsinfofhisre-
frmistcu|-de-sac. Ioriffhe popu|afions hadsuchahopandfaifh, if
was not at a||based onthepromisesoffhe |ibera|s/centrists whowere
hopingto confain their democraticardorsandinwhomthepopu|afions
had|tf|etrust,butitwasbasedratherontwootherconsiderafions.one,
the fact that the popu|ar movements had in fact obtained ha|f a pie
through acenturyof strugg|e and, fwo,fhe facf thaffheirownmove
mentswerepromisingthemfhathisforywasonfheirsideandfherefre,
imp|icif|y, thatincrementa|ismwasindeed possib|e.
The genius of the |ibera|s was fhatfheyhad been ab|eto consfrain
thepopu|arfrcesonfheonehandbynimnam (fhehopethaffheha|f
a pie theyoeredwou|d one daybe fhe who|e pie) and on fhe ofher
handbytransformingfhemovementsoffheiropponenfs(andinpartic-
u|artheirradica| /socia|istopponenfs)info fheiravatars,whichindct
verespreadingthe|ibera|doctrineofncrementa|reformasmanagedby
specia|ist/experts. The |imitafions ofthe |ibera|s were nonefhe|ess the
sameastheirgenius. Oneday, itwou|dinevitab|ybecomec|earthatha|f
apiecou|dneverbethewho|epie,sinceiffhepopu|arfrcesweregiven
fhe who|e pie, capita|ism cou|d no |onger exist. And on that day fhe
movemenfs of the O|d Le, the radica| /socia|istavafars of|ibera|sm,
wou|d inevitab|y|ose their credibi|fy.
The day of which we have ben speaking has a|ready come. lf is
ca||edI9o8/I989. AndhereonceagainweGndtheparficu|arityofEasf
Asia.Jhewtvo|utionofI9o8struckeverywhereintheUnited
SfatesandIrance,inOermanyandlta|y,inCzechos|ovakiaandPo|and,
inMexicoand Senega|, inTunisiaand lndia, inChinaand|apan.The
speciGc griefs and demands were particu|ar fo each p|ace, but the two
repeafed themes were these. one, a deounciation offhe worId-ssem
d
['
4
Y'9 !
fa
n
h
nent,th]5S|,)nd, two, acritiqu [fheO|dLeforifsfai|ures,and
.parficu|arfrfhe fct thatitsmultip|emovementshadbe
avatars of fhe |bera| dotri.
.-.. -- - .
The immediate dramatic dFcts of 98were suppressed or were
nittered awayin the two orthreefl|owingyears. But the wor|d rev-
olution of 98 had one lasting immediate effect, and one eect that
came tobefeltin the succeedingtwo decades. Theimmediatelasting
eectwasthedestruction ofthe|ibera|consensusandthe|iberationof
bothconserativrradzmusienoJmetalism.er98
t1ettd-syste .. -u-.,...pitur of I81S48-a
struggle between the three ideologies. Conservatism has been resur-
gent,o[e__ e libetism.!thasproveditlfs
strongthat,farromitpresenting itse|fasanavatarof|ibera|ism today,
it is liberalism that is beginning to present itself an avatar of con-
servatism. AtGrst,radicalism/socialismsoughttoreviveitselfinvarious
guises. as themu|tiple, short-lived Maoisms ofthe early 970s and as
theso-ca||edNewLeu movements ,Creens, identitymovements, rad-
ical feminism, and others) that have been longer lived but that have
not entirelyshedthe image ofbeingavatars ofthepre- 98liberalism.
ThecolIa_se[0:m
:m t
-c
3[.
d
0.';
USSRwas simplythelast phase inthecritiqueofthe faIse radica|ism
vamf;| __.qgg __
e
_
----~
.. .,_
Jhe secondpost-98change, the onethat tooktwo decades to be
fallyrealized,wasthelossofpopularfaith inincrementalism,orrather
intheO|dLefmovementsthathadpreacheditinarevo|utionaryguise.
Jhe hope ,and fith) thatthe childrenofthe mass ofthe populations
would inherit the world has been shattered, or at leastseverelyweak-
ened.Jhe two decades since 98havebeen preciselythe moment of
the|atestbondratieB-_hase.Theperiod)+s_ dbeenthemost
spectacularA-phase in thehistoryofthecapitalistwoud-economyand
WaTso+-co: e::|-..,,g;; ,-:ofhsori.(a:-_..
movements acro_ heglob.The two together had admirablyfed the
mvn(ihehpe and faith)thataUpartsofacapita|istwor|d-economy
couldinfact"develop,"meaningthatthepopu|arfrcescouldlookfr-
wardtoanearlydrasticreductionintheeconomic andsocialpolarities
of the world-economy. Jhe subsequent letdown of the B-phase was
therefore a the more dramatic.
_hat this bondratieg ase ma r_wsthe narrow limits
D-.!!
ed
.ruui ~xt
e
nat[ps _qld,occu. !ndustriuization, even whenpossible,wasno rem-

edy per se. For most of the industriaIization of the periphera| and
semiperiphera| zones has been a hand-me-down industria|ization, the
shif ofactivities thatcould no longer be monopolized and therefore
could no longer give ri to very high proht rates hom the erstwhile
core zone to other countries. This is true, fr example, of steel pro-
duction, notto speak oftextiles, whichinthe late eighteenth century
hadbeenaleadingindustry. Thisistrueofthose aspectsoftheservice
sector that are most routinized.
The game of capitalists jumping hom one activity to another in
; search of relatively monopolizable, highly prohtable sectors has not
,ended. Meanwhile, theoveralleconomicand socialpolarizationhasnot
nIynotdiminished, it hasbeenrapidlyintensifying.Asfastastheso-
'called underdevelopd countries orregions run, the others run fster.
Tobe sure, some individualcountries and regions mayshiftpositions,
buttheriseofsomehasalways meanttherelativedeclineofothers,to
maintainthesameapproximatepercentagesinthevariouszones ofthe
.world-economy.
The immediate impact of the bondratie -phase was hlt most
sharply in the most dehnseless areas, such as Afnca. ut itwas felt
quiteseverelyas we in LatinAmerica, the MiddleEast,eastand cen-
tralEurope,theex-USSR,andSouthAsia.ltwasevenhlt,albeitmuch
!ess severely, in North America and western Europe. The one zone
thatsubstantiallyescaped homthenegativeimpactwasEastAsia. Of
course,whenonesaysthatageographicregionwasafhctednegatively,
it does not meanthatall its residentslostm equalproportions. Notat
all. Within each of these areas, there was increased internal plariza-
tion,which means thateveninthoseareasthebondratie-phasehas
been very positive fr a minorityofthe populations m terms oftheir
incomelevels and possibilities ofcapital accumulation, but notfr the
majority. Again, East Asia, orat least parts of EastAsia, has seen less
ofthisincreased internal polarization.
Letusponderthepoliticalconsequencesoftheworldeconomicdif-
hculties of the period l97095. Iirst and fremost, it has meant the
serious discreditingofthe Old Left, the erstwhile antisystemic move-
mntshena(ionallibcrationm6vements in the ex-colonial world,
the populist movements in Latin America, but also the Communist
partiesinEurope,eastandwest)andthesocial-democratic/labormove-
menrsinwesternEuropeandNorthAmerica.Mostofthem have hlt
that, in order to survive electorIy, they needed to become even more
centrist than befre. Their mass appeal has as a result seriously di-
minished, and their self-conhdence has declined to the same degree.
In any case, theycanscatcelyanylonget setve asguatantots oflibetal
teftmismfotimpatientandimpovetishedpopulations.Theyatethete-
fteunabletosetveasamechanismofconttol,pteviouslytheywetethe
ptincipalmechanismofconttol)ofthepoliticalteactions ofsuchpop-
ulations, manyofwhom have tutned elsewhete-to political apathy
,which, howevet, is always a tempotatyway station), to fandamental-
istmovementsofallkinds, andinsome cases toneofscistmovements.
Thepointisthatthesepopulationshavebecomevolatileonceagain,and
thetefoteuangetousonceagainfomthepointofviewoftheptivileged
sttata inthewotld-system.
The second political consequence has been that, actoss the wotld,
|pqn
s
[ _s
[mrt:
aginsttheg __Theyhave,tobe
sute, been considetably encoutaged in this attitade bytesutgentcon-
setvative ftceswhoateseekingtotakeadvantage ofthe oppottunity,
3 theysee it, to desttoy the lastvestiges of the libtal/centtist polit-
ical ptogtam that had dominated wotld politics nom 1848 to 1968.
utthesepopulations,bytakingthisposition,ateftthemostpattnot
exptessingtheitsuppottofsometeactionatyutopia.Rathettheyateex-
ptessingtheit disbeliefin theidea thatinctementalisttefotmismisany
solutionfottheitmiseties.ndthustheyhavetutnedagainstthe state,
which has been the insttument pat excellence of such inctementalist
tefotmism.
The anti-state attitude is tenectednot metely in a tejection ofthe
state'stoleineconomictedisttibution,butalsoinagenetalnegativeview
oftaxationlevelsandoftheefncacyandmotivationofthestate'ssecu-
tity mtces. Itisteectedas wellin atenewed active dispatagementof
the expetts/specialistswho had ft so longbeen theintetmediatiesof
libetalteftmism. ltisexptessed in an incteased openoutingoflegal
ptocesses, and indeed ofctiminality as aftm ofptotest. Thepolitics
ofsuchanti-statism iscumulative. The populations complain ofinad-
equatesecutity and begin totakesecutityfnctions backintoptivate
hands. They e consequentlyevet mote teticent to paythe taxes that
ateassessed. Each such stepweakens the state machinety andmakesit
still mote difncultfotthe states to flnll theitfanctions,which makes
theotiginalcomplaintsseemstillmotevalid,leadingtostillmotetejec-
tionofthe state. V_ ate living_ in the

ti
@_
v
i
"''
es
''
a
' ~t4 t.,]
cteaton
ofthemodetnwotld-system.
myrealiycsceespteadofanti-statism ispte-
4 THE RI SE OF EAST ASI A
ciselyEastAsia,sinceitistheonlyareathathasnotyetlivedthrougha
serious dec|ine ineconomicprospects during the period 1970-95, and
therefore the only area where disillusionment with incrementalist re-
frmism has not taken place. Jhe relative internal order of the East
Asianstates reinfrcesthe sense oftherise ofEastAsia, bothin East
Asia and e|sewhere. !tmayindeed a|sobethe exp|anation ofthe fact
that the EastAsianCommuniststatesare the onlyonesthathave b far
escapedthe collapse that the others experienced circa 1989.
! have tried thus Frto account for the present/past of East Asia
within the wor|d-system. What does this portend fr the mture?
Nothing is less sure. Jhere are basically two_ossible scenarios. Jhe
* "*v " -
world-systemcancontinuemore orlessasbefre andenterinto another
seofccngesrthcorldsystemhas:-.+ia:c(
viI!see +structliu, ,ep|osion (n
ijplosi,thatwillendwiththeconstitationofsome newkindoJs-
tqrical system. JheconsequencesfrEast Asia mightwellbe dierent
in the two scenarios.
!fwef||owscenarionumber1, andassumethatwhateverisgoingon
intheworld-sysm:,btriowismerelyavariantofthe situationthat
occurs repeatedlywith the earlystages ofthe decline ofa hegemonic
pwer,thenwemayexpectthefllowing"normal"setofdevelopments,
which!wi||resumebrieyinafewquickpropositions.
A new Kondratief A-phase should begin shorly, based on the new

leading products that have come to the fore in the last twenty years.
There will be an acute com!itigl byua
p
a
q
_
__
au,
apd . the United S.tates to become the primary producers of these new
leading products.
There will simultaneously be the beginning of a competition between
Japan and the European Union to be the successor hegemonic power to
the United States.
| -
Since a triad in ferocious mutual competition usually reduces to a duo,
t|e most likely combination is _E.!. t United States versus the
uropean Unio1, a combination that is undergirded by both economic
and paradoxically cultural considerations.
This pairing would return us to the classical situation of a sea-air power
supported by the ex-hegemonic pwer versus a land-based pwer, and
suggests for both geopolitical and economic reasons the eventual success
of Japan.
Each member of the triad would continue to reinforce its economic and
political links with particular regions: the United States with the Amer
icas, Japan with East and Southeast Asia, the European Union with
east-central Europe and the frmer USSR.
The most diffcult political problem in this geopolitical regrouping would
be the inclusion of China in the Japan-U. S. zone and of Russia in the
E.U. zone, but there are no doubt terms on which both of these matters
could b arranged.
!nsuchascenario,we could expectconsiderableqJ
uropeanon)ndast AsiaabouthFyyearshomnoyand aprob-
JastAsia.Wheth poitChinawou|dbe ab|e
towrestnom|apanthedominantro|ewithinthisnewstructureisvery
diFGcu|t to say.
l do notwish to spendmrthertimeonthisscenariobecauseld not
expectittooccur. Orratherlb|ievethatithasindeedbegunandwi||
continue,butwnotcometothe"natura|"conc|usiononemightexpect
because oFtheunderlyingstructuralcrisisoFthecapitalistworld-system
as a system. Hereioo,! shal!summarize myviewssuccinctlybecause !
haveelaborated them elsewhere in some detail.
We cannot be sure whether the present Kondratieff B-phase will end
with a bang or a whimper, that is, whether there wll be a defationary
crash or not. I do not think it much matters, except that the crash would
dramatize the issue. In any case, I believe we are probably moving into a
defationar_y_era,... s:wiftly or slowly.
=&
Restarting a Kondratief A-phase requires, among other things, ex
parding rea effecive demand. Tb.at . means .. tht
_
some 3<.9, )f_ ,
*+r
y
i
_
g
. i
e

_
__ ;
l
ov
e
h
t
they presently ha. This segment could b disproportionately located
in East Asia.
In any case, an upswing wrequire considerable productive investment,
and it is easy 8 predict that this w be loated di
;
ti
t
Iy
i
in the North, as such investment as is going to peripheral and semi
peri phera zones in seach of cheap labor will diminish significatly. The
result will be a further margnalizat@.oLthe. h,.
The deruralization of the world has virtually eliminated the traditional
compensatory mechanism of opening up new primary production zones,
and therefore the worldwide cost of labor will rise to the detriment of
.,_, ,_
,..~ -- ~ =1 r,
~* . -. . - , . , .
.
- - - .-. . , y+ * `*
48 THE RI SE OF EAST ASIA
The serious ecological diwill create enormous gj jo
g_y_
ernments either to draw fom other expenditures to handle the costs of
-
oring a suffcient level of biotic equilibrium and preventing a futher
deterioration or to impose on productive enterprises the internalization
of such costs. The latter alternative will place gu; (p|ra)0@
the accumulation of cital. The frmer alternative will require either
high
r
-
taa
tion
-
cu
..
tres with the same result or higher taxes/
lowered services for the mass of the population with very negative po
litical consequences, given the disillusionment with the state that I have
discussed previously.
The level c popular demand L state services, especially t education,
health, and income floors, will not diminish, despite the turn against the
state. This is the price of "democratization."
*= ~ ' ` ' `
'

```''~
The excluded South will become politically fa more restive than at
present, and the level of global di!_er williQ\reas mgrkedly .
*w =^
The collapse of the Old Left w have eliminated the most efctive
moderating frces on these disintegrative forces.
We can anricipare hom rhis a |ongish period ofdarkrimes, rhein-
creaseofciviIwars,|oca|,regiona|, andperhapswor|dwide).Andhere
thescenarioends.Iortheoutcomeofthisprocessw6rcethe',i
frorder" inconrradicrorydirections,abihrcation),whoseourcomeis
|:,
unpredicrab|e. Iurthermore,rhe gograhyofrhis conGicris

not easy to ascertain in advance. Some areas maywe||proht hom it
more thanothers, orsuerhomitmorethanothers. Butwhich?East
Asia? ! cannor say.
So, has rhere been a rise ofEasrAsia? Undoubred|y. Bur lor how
|ong?adecade?acentury?ami||ennium?AndisariseofEastAsiagood
frthewor|d,oron|yfrEastAsia?Nothing,lrepeat,is|essc|ear.
Cou
Te So-called Asian Crisis
Geopolitics in the LongueDure
Po|iticians, journa|ists, and to many scho|ars are repeated|y over-
whe|med.by the |atest head|ines. This is unfrtunate because it |eads
to curious and unsatisfactoryana|yses ofthe meaning andimportance
ofeven |arge events. Thus it has beenwith the co||apse ofthe Com-
munisms,thusit has been with thegeopo|itica| cha||enge ofSaddam
Hussein,andthusitiswiththeso-ca||edAsianhnancia|crisis.Tomake
senseofthis "event," itis usem| tohave recourse to themu|tip|esocia|
times that Iernand raude| insisted are the crucib|ewithin which we
may be ab|e to ana|yze rea|ity rea|istica||y.
Let me startwith an interestingeditoria|commentnom the Finan-
cial Times ,Iebruary 16, 1998, p. 15) onthesituation.
Why have [the east Asian countries] sunk now? A big part of the ex
planation has to do with the fckleness of external investors, who frst
behaved as if east Asian economies could do nothing wrong and, shortly
thereafter, as if they could do nothing right . . . .
Panic-stricken lenders. The inflows ofered more temptation than in
experienced businessmen, guaranteed fnancial institutions, or corrpt
and incompetent politicians could resist. The outflows worsened the sub
sequent punishment; a domestic asset bubble can be managed by domestic
institutions. As the capital flooded out, exchange rates collapsed and
bankruptcy engulfed the private sector, countries fund themselves at the
mercy of panic-stricken private lenders and demanding offcial ones . . . .
This is a world of panic. Once panic begins, each investor rationaly
wants to escape befre all the others. Vastly more damage is then done
than the underlying economic situation wo1ld warrant.
There are severa| things to be noted about this ana|ysis. The 6nancia|
s|ump in East Asia is |ooked at nom the point ofview of investors,
Addres at the International Studi Association meeting, Minneapolis, March 20, 1998.
49
50 CODA: THE SO-CALLED ASIAN CRI SI S
prmarlyexternalnvestors,andtheedtoralsuggeststhataprmecon-
sderaton n explanng the extent oF theproblemwas ther panc. !F
onereads closely, one sees thatweare talkng especally oFcompara-
tvelysmmlernvestors,whohavetheleastpoltcalcloutandthe most
reason to need "to escape bFore allthe others." The second thngto
notes thatgeopoltcal consderatons do notseemto entertheanal-
yss. The thrd thngto note s the almost leFt-wngpolcyconcluson
oF the Financial Times:
The wisdom of over-hasty integration of emerging economies into global
fnancial markets must be reconsidered. Foreign direct investment is in
valuable. But easy private-sector access to short-term borrowing can be
lethal. Only the prepared and skilfu can navigate this ocean. Lacking a
tre global lender of last resort, fagile emerging economies should stay
close to shore.
Irst,theartcleattacksrecentneolberalwsdombyspeakngoF"over-
hastyntegraton oFemergngeconomesntoglobalGnancalmarkets. "
Thentsuggeststhattheworld-economy,always?onlyatpresent?)san
"ocean"thatonly"thepreparedandskl!Fulcannavgate."Beware,!sup-
pose,the"nexperencedbusnessmen,guaranteedGnancalnsttutons,
orcorruptandncompetentpoltcans. "Perhapsthecorruptpoltcans
needtobemorecompetent.Inmly,theconclusonnotestheabsenceoF
a"truegloballenderoFlastresort,"analluson ,!wouldsuggest)tothe
structuralGnancalweaknessoFtheUntedStates,whch,Faruombeng
agloballender oFlastresort, s aglobalborrower dependent currently
on |apan.
IoraUtslmtatons,thsedtoralssounderthanmanyaprognostc
onthecurrentstuatonbecause tsbereFtoFthellusonsthatallthat
s neededsalttlemore!MImercurochrome andbecause,aboveall,t
underlnesthe ssue oF"panc."Pancs neveran ssue oFthe so-called
realeconomy.Pancoccurswhentheresspeculaton,thatstosay,when
largegroupsoFpeoplearemakngmoneynotprmarlyoutoFtheproF-
ts uomproductonbutoutoFFnancalmanpulatons.Thealternatng
or cyclcal relatonshp between an emphass on proGts derved uom
productonandoneonproGtsderveduomGn+ncalmanpulatons sa
basc element oFthecaptalstworld-economy`andremndsusthatthe
Grstplace we should look fran explanaton oFwhats gongon s n
thefctthatwearelocatedwthnaB-phaseoFabondrateFFcycle,one
thathas nfctbeengongonsnce1967/73.
CODA: THE SO-CALLED ASIAN CRI SI S 51
!twouldbeworthwhilero remindourselvesofsomerecenteconomic
historyoftheworld-system. We can lookatwhathas happened since
I97/73intwozones.ontheonehand,inthecotecountties,whichate
the United States,westetn Eutope ,co||ective|y), and|apan ,|apan, not
East Asia), and, on the othet hand, inthe semipetipheta| andpetiph-

eta| ateas, which inc|ude the so-ca||ed East Asian tigets, China, and
Southeast Asia. Let us stattwith the cote zone. The basic meaning
ofa KondtatieffB-phase isthattheteis too muchptoduction frthe
available eective demand, so thatthe rate ofproGt hom production
is down. Animmediateglobalsolutionmightbetoreduceproduction.
Butwhowants to puthimselffrwardas thesacriFcialloser?Thereal
reactionordinarily, since the rate of proGt is down, is lor aggressive
producers either to seekto increase production ,thus maintaining their
overallreal proht, albeit at a reduced rate of proGt) or to reloate to
an area oflowerrealwagerates,therebyincreasingtheirrate ofproht.
!ncreasing production ,thehrstsolution) is ofcoursegloballycounter-
productive andcollapses afterawhile.Relocation,the second solution)
doessolvetheglobalproblemforlongerthanincreasingproduction,but
onlyuntilit too leads to increasing the globalproductionwithoutsi-
mu|taneous|yincteasingthe eective demand, ot at |east incteasing it
sufG cient|y.
This what hasbeen happening ovet the pastthittyyeats. G|oba|
ptoduction of aI| sotts ,automobi|es, stee|, e|ecttonics, among othets,
andmotetecent|ycomputetsoftwate) hasbeen te|ocatinghomNotth
America, western Europe, and|apan to other areas. This has led to
considerable unemployment in the core zones. The unemployment,
however, does not need to be evenlyspread. !ndeed, a typical feature
of a Kondratie downturn is the effort ofgovernments in core zones
toexportunemploymenttoeachother.!fwelookatthepatternofthe
past rhirtyyears, the United States suered most at thebeginning, in
the I970s andespeciallythe earlyI980s, thenitwas Europe'sturn and
still is, and only recently has it been that of|apan, whose difhculties
since I990havepermittedthe U.S. employmentratesrogoupagain.
!nthemeantime,investorseverywherehavebeenengagedinallkinds
of hnancial speculations. The OPEC oil price rises ofthe I970s led
to g|obal accumulations that were tecycled as loans to Thitd Wot|d
countties. These|oans eventua||yimpovetishedthebottowets,but, fot
a decade ot so, they did maintaincotezoneincomesg|ob|y, unti| the
Ponzigame GnaI|ygaveoutwith the so-ca||ed debtctisis ofthe eat|y
980s. This manipulation was 6llowed bya second game,thecombi-
nationinthe 980sofborrowingbytheU. S. government ,themilitary
beynesianism ofReagan) andbyprivate capitalists ,|unkbonds), until
that Ponzi game also gave out with the so-called crisis of the U. S.
deG cit.ThePonzi game ofthe 990shas beentheinGows ofglobal
capital via "short-term borrowing" to East and SoutheastAsia, which,
as theFinancial Times says, "canbe lethal."
!nallofthis,ofcourse,somepeoplehavemadealotofmoney,and
othershave lost their shirts). And oneleveldown uom thegreatcap-
italists,there is thelevelofoverpaidyappieswhohavealso donevery
well,providedtheywerein therightcountryintheright decade. The
pointis,however,that,byandlarge,mostoftheproGthas been made
uomGnancialmanipulations.Probablytheonlyarenainwhichsignif-
icant proFts have been made out ofproduction has been incomputers,
a "new"indus, and evenherewe arereachingthepointofoverpro-
duction and hence ofa falling rate of proGt, at least in hardware. !f
we turn to the peripheral and semiperipheral countries as a group, a
bondratie B-phase oers both disaster and opportanity. The disas-
trous side is thereduction ofmarket 6rtheirexports, especially their
primaryproducts,becauseofthereductioninglobalproductionthatoc-
curs.TheoilpriceincreasealsomFctedthemseverely,in that,whileit
resultedinreducedworld production, it also resultedin increased costs
ofimports 6r non-core countries. The combination ofdecreased ex-
ports and increased costsofimportscreated acute balance ofpayments
difGculties 6r most ofthese countries, especially in the 970s, which
made theirgovernmentsrecepnvetoloans ,the recyclingoftheOPEC
superproGts)andledwithin adecadetotheso-calleddebtcrisis.
But a bondratie B-phase also offers opportunities. Because one
ma|or eect is the relocation of industries uom the core countries,
non-core countries are thebeneGciaries ofthisrelocation,thatis, some
non-core countries. !t is crucial to bear in mind thatthere is |ust so
much relocation possible and that ml non-core countries are in com-
petitionwith each other to be the site. !nthe 970s, a newtermwas
invented.Webegan tospeakofN!Cs, that is, of"newlyindustriuizing
countries. "Theliterature ofthe timegave 6ur ma|orexamples. Mex-
ico,Brazil,,South)borea,andTaiwan.Bythe980s,MexicoandBrazil
tended to disappear uom the lists, andwe beganto speak of the Iour
ragons ,borea, Taiwan, Hong bong, and Singapore). By the 990s,
therewere indicationsoffurtherrelocation,beyond theIourragons,
CODA: THE SO-CALLED ASI AN CRI SI S 53
toThailand,Malaysia,!ndonesia,thePhilippines,Vietnam,and,main-
land) China.Andnow, thereis aso-calledGnancialcrisis,G rstofallin
thisIastgroup,butin the Iour ragons asweIl. Ofcourse,|apanhas
beenexperiencingsomeeconomicdifGcuItiessincetheearIyI 990s,and
thepunditssuggestthatthecurrentcrisismight"spread"to|apan,and
thenpossibIyeIsewhere, frexampIe, totheUnitedStates.
lntothispicturehassteppedthelMI,supportedstrongIybytheU.S.
government,withits"soIution" invented frthedebtcrisisoftheearly
980s. therecommendationthatgovernments in crisis practice a com-
bination of5scal austerityand openingthe market fr investors even
morewidely.AsthechiefeconomistoftheeutscheBankinTo|ohas
pointedout, andascitedapprovinglybynoless than HenryKissinger,
the !MI is acting "like a doctorspecializing in measles who] tries to
cure everyillness with one remedy."
KissingerpointsoutthattheAsiancountries hadinfactbeendoing
exactlywhat"conventionalwisdom"hadrecommended andthatneither
thecountriesnortheworld'sGnancialcenters"hadfreseenthecurrent
crisis. "Whothenistoblame?!t'sacombination,saysKissinger,of"do-
mesticshortcomingsandexuberantfreigninvestorsandlenders, who
had beenmaking] Iarge windfa proGts. . . jvia] unsoundinvestments."
lnanycase,KissingerwarnsthatthelMIremedies,frcing"thecom-
pIete crippIing ofthe domestic banking system jin countries| which
havenosociaI safety net," are disastrous, causingwhat isin essence a
"poIiticaI" crisis withpotentiaIIyverynegativeimpacton theU. S.posi-
tionintheworld-system. Kissingerdraws thislesson frthepowerFl
of this world.
[I]t is clear that world leaders need a better understanding of global
capital fows and their potential impact on the economies of both indus
trialized and developing countries. And they must become more awae
of the potential international impact of decisions often taen largely for
domestic reasons.
Kissinger is speaking at this point as a political economist, con-
cerned withmaintaining the stability ofthe capitalistworld-economy
asahistoricalsystem,andwellawareofrhelimitationsofthedegreeof
poIarizationthatispoIiticalIytoIerabIe,especialIywhentheimmediate
causeofincreasedsueringcanbetracedtoGnanciaIspecuIations. But,
ofcourse, heis operating aIso asa pIumberadvising howto stop the
Ieak,andinthiscapacity,heisnotmakingaIong-termanaIysis.
Letuslookattheso-culedEastAsian crisis in threetemporalities,
two ofthem con|unctural andonestructural. We have|ustrecounted
thestoryasastoryofthecurrentbondratiecycle, one still notquite
terminated. b the bondratie B-phase, fr some reason ,to be sug-
gested shortly), the East/SoutheastAsian region ofthe world-system
was the ma|orbeneGciary ofthe relocation caused by the bondratie
downturn. This meant that, unlike other parts of the periphery and
semiperiphery, the countries of the region had a ma|or growth spurt
andseemedtobeprospering,untiltheeectsofthedownturnhiteven
them. !nthis sense, there isnothingunusualorunexpectedaboutwhat
has happened. Of course, to appreciate this, we have to put aside a
the glowing explanations ofEast Asia'svirtues, which have nowgiven
place to all the sour and reproving clucking about "crony capitalism."
EastAsiadiddoexactlytherightthings inthe970sand980stoat-
tract to itself the relocation ofworld industry. What the recent crisis
provesisthatevendoinga ofthisisnotenoughto sustainalong-term
Fndamental improvementinaregion's comparative economicstatusin
the world-system.
Butthereisanothercon|unctural cycle, onethatislonger-termthan
thebondratieff. Thisisthecycleofhegemony. Thatcyclegoesbackin
the presentinstance not to 94Sbutto circa 873, and traces the rise
and nowthedeclineofU. S. hegemonyintheworld-system.!tstarted
with a long competition between the United States and Cermany to
become thesuccessorhegemonicpowerto Creat Britain.Thisstruggle
culminated in the Thirty YearsWarbetween the two contenders that
went on between 94 and 94S, a war that the United States won.
The period of true hegemony fllowed, hom 94S to 9o7/73. True
hegemony, however, cannot last. !tsbase,whichis economicproductive
superiority, must inevitably L undrmined by the entry into a strong
competitive position ofotherpowers, in this casewestern Europe and
|apan. Therelative economic declineoftheUnited States hasbeen go-
ingon apace since then, totheadvantageofits economiccompetitors.
TheUnited Stateshasbeen able,upto apoint,tocontainthempoliti-
caUy,primarilybyusingthemenaceoftheColdWartokeepitsalliesin
line.Thisweapon,however,disappearedwiththecollapseofthe Soviet
Union between 989 and 99.
Iorvariousreasons,|apanhasbeenabletodoevenbetterthanwest-
ern Europe in this period, in part because its economic apparatuses
were "newer" ,theCerschenkron effect) and in partbecauseU. S. Grms
CODA: THE SO-CALLED ASIAN CRI SI S 55
seemedmore inreresred in making long-rerm arrangemenrswirh|apan
rhan wirhwesrern Europe. Wharever rhe explanarion,|apan, which as
lare as rhe I9o0swas being compared byU. S. scholars wirh Turkey,'
became aneconomicsuperpower.Theabi|ityoftheIourragonsand
|ater Southeast Asia to perfrm sowe||in the I980swas duetotheir
geographica|andeconomic|inkagewith|apan,theso-ca||edyinggeese
efect).!n Gveyears,Thai|andmay|ooknobetterthanVenezue|a,and
boreanobetterthanBrazi|,but|apanwi||continuetobe3 economic
superpower, andw probablyemergeinrheearlyrwenry-Grsrcenrury,
in rhe wake of rhe nexr bondrarie uprurn, as rhe leading locus of
capiralaccumularion in rheworld-sysrem. Howlarge arole aresurgenr
China will play in rhis economic cenrraliry of|apan/Easr Asia is one
ofrhegrearuncerrainfacrors ofrhisgeoeconomic,geopoliricalresrruc-
ruring,rhesrarrofanewhegemoniccycle andofcomperirionberween
|apan or|apan/China andwesrern Europe forrhe newrop role. Irom
rhisperspecrive,rheso-calledEasrAsianGnancialcrisisisaminor,rem-
poraryevenr oflimired imporrance rharwillprobablychange norhing
ofrheunderlyingriseof|apanor|apan/Chinaor|apan/EasrAsia.
!fthe EasrAsiancrisisfrcesaseriousworlddepression,rheUnired
States is |ike|ytobe theworst hit ofa||. And evenifeveryone comes
out ofthe Gna| subphase ofthe bondratie B-phase and into a new
A-phase, itwiBprobab|ybethestartofasecu|ardeation,suchasthe
wor|d-economysawintheseventeenthandnineteenthcenturies.
Iina||y, there is the structura| temporahty. The capita|ist wor|d-
economy has been in existence as a hisrorica| sysrem since rhe |ong
sixreenrh century. Every hisrorical sysrem has rhree momenrs. rhe mo-
menrofgenesis,rhemomenrofnormallie or developmenr, andrhe
momenrofsrructuralcrisis.Eachmusrbeanalyzedsepararely.Thereis
muchreasonroblieverharrhemodernworld-sysrem,rheoneinwhich
we all live, has enrered inro irs structural crisis.` !frhis is so, we are
unlikelyro see rhe fuB acring our of anorher hegemonic cycle. |apan
may neverhave irs momenrin rhe sun, as rhe hisroric successorro rhe
Unired Provinces, rhe Unired bingdom, and rhe Unired Srares.Tobe
sure, we mayhave one more bondrariecycle, burirsgloriousA-phase
wouldnodoubronlymakemoreacurerhesrrucruralcrisis,rarherrhan
annul|ing ir.
!nthiscase,wemayconsiderourse|vestobeinwhatthescientists of
comp|exityca||a "bimrcation,'' duringwhich thewor|d-system wi||be
"chaotic,"inthetechnica|sensethattherewi||bemanysimu|taneous|y
possib|eso|utionstoa theequationsofthewor|d-system,andtherefore
no predictab|ity abut the short-termpatterns. ut outofthis system
wiB come some new"order,"abso|ute|yindeterminate,inthesensethat
itis impossib|e to predict), but subject to much agency ,in the sense
that even sma||pushesmayhaveenormousimpact onthepathofthe
system in crisis).
Iromthispointofview,theEastAsiancrisisisanannunciatorysign.
ltisnotthe6rst. The 6rstwasthewor|drevo|utionof1968. utinso-
far asthe neo|ibera|sc|aimedtohave 6undthesecretofrestabi|izing
the system, the EastAsian crisiswi||have demonstratedhowbarren is
theirideo|ogyandhowirre|evant.Thisiswhatispanickingthosewho,
|iketheFinancial Tims and Henrybissinger, areworryingabout the
po|itica| impactofthe"panic"ofthe6nancia|investors.Thesagesare
rightintheircritiques ofthelMJbuttheyinturnhave|itt|etooffer
us, because they he| they have to argue that the historica| system in
which we |ive is immorta|, and thus they must 6rswear ana|yzing its
di|emmas. Nosystem, however, isimmorta|, andcertain|y notthe one
that has generated thegreatest economic andsocia|p|arization inthe
history ofhumanity.
Chuter 4
States? Sovereignty?
The Di l emmas of Capital ists
in an Age of Transition
There hve long been debates, aswe all know, about the relationship
oFtheindividualstates to the capitaLsts. Viewsrangeuom those who
emphasize the degreeto which states are manipulated by capitalists to
serve theirindividualandcoUectiveintereststothosewhoemphasizethe
degreetowhichstatesareautonomousactorsthatdealwithcapitalistsas
one interestgroupamongseveral ormany. Therehasalsobeen debate
about the degree to which capitalists can escape control by the state
machinery, andthere are manywho are arguingthattheirabilitytodo
thishasincreased considerablyinrecentdecades,withthe onsetoFthe
transnationalcorporation and so-cal!edglobalization.
!n addition, there have long been debates about the relationship oF
so-called sovereign states to each other. Views range uom those who
emphasize the eective sovereigntyoFthe various states to those who
are cynical abut tbe abiLtyoFso-called weakstates to resistthepres-
sures,andblandishments)oFso-calledstrongstates.ThisdebareisoF ten
keptseparateuomthe debate abouttherelationshipoFindividualstates
tocapitaLsts,asthoughweweredealingwithtwodierentquestions. !t
seemstomediFFcult,however,todiscusstheseissuesintelLgentlywith-
outlookingatthem intandem,because oFthepeculiarstructureoFthe
modern world-system.
The modernworld-system, in existencein atleastpartoFthe globe
since the long sixteenth century, is a capitalist world-economy. This
means severalthings.Asystemis capitalist iFtheprimarydynamic oF
social activityis the endless accumulationoFcapital.This is sometimes
Keynote address at the conference, "State and Sovereignty in the World Economy," University of
Califoria, Irvine, February 21-23, 1997.
7
58 SATES? SOVEREI GNTY?
calledrhelawoFvalue.Noreveryone,oFcourse,snecessarlymotvared
ro engage n such endless accumularon,and ndeed onlyaFware able
ro do so successFuUy. Bur a sysrem s capralsr Frhose who do engage
n suchacrvryrend roprevalnrhe mddle runoverrhosewho6llow
orherdynamcs.JheendlessaccumularonoFcapralrequresnrurnrhe
ever-ncreasngcommodGcaron oFeveryrhng, and a capralsrworld-
economy should show a conrnuous rrend n rhs drecron, whch rhe
modern world-sysrem surely does.
Jhs rhen leads ro rhesecondrequremenr, rharrhecommodresbe
lnkedn so-called commodrychans,noronlybecausesuchchansare
"eFGcenr",meanngrharrheyconsrrurea merhod rharmnmzes cosrs
n rerms oFourpur), buralsobecauserheyareopaque ,ro use Braudel's
rerm). Jhe opacry oF rhe dsrrburon oFrhe surplus-value n a long
commodry chan s rhe mosr eecrve wayro mnmze polrcal op-
posron, because r obscures rhe realry and rhe causes oF rhe acure
polarzaron oF dsrrburon rhar s rhe consequence oFrhe endless ac-
cumularon oF capral, a polarzaron rhar s more acure rhan n any
prevous hsrorcal sysrem.
Jhelengrh oFrhe commodry chans derermnes rheboundares oF
rhedvsonoFlaboroFrheworld-economy.Howlongrheyaresafunc-
ronoFseveralFacrors.rhekndoFrawmareralsrharneedrobencluded
n rhe chan, rhesrareoFrherechnologyoFrransporrand communca-
rons, and perhaps mosr mporranrrhe degreero whchrhedomnanr
6rcesnrhecapralsrworld-economyhaverhepolrcalsrrengrh ron-
corporare addronalareas nro rher nerwork. ! have argued rhar rhe
hsrorcalgeography oFourpresenr srrucrure canL seenrohaverhree
prncpal momenrs. Jhe Grsr was rhe perod oF orgnal crearon, be-
rween 1450 and 1650, durng whch rme rhe modern world-sysrem
came roncludeprmarly mosr oFEurope ,burnerher Russa norrhe
Orroman Empre)pluscerranparrsoFrheAmercas.Jhesecondmo-
menrwasrhegrear expanson uom 1750 ro 1850, whenprmarlyrhe
Russanempre,rhe OrromanEmpre, SourhAsaandparrsoFSourh-
easrAsa,large parrsoFWesrAhca,andrheresroFrheAmercaswere
ncorporared.Jherhrdandlasrexpanson occurrednrheperod1850-
1900, when prmarly EasrAsaburalsovarous orherzonesnAhca,
rheresroFSourheasrAsa,andOceanawerebroughrnsiderhedvson
oFlabor.Arrharponr,rhecapralsrworld-economyhad become rruly
globalForrhe Grsr rme. !rbecamerhe Grsr hsrorcalsysrem ronclude
rhe enrreglobewrhn rs geography.
STATES? SOVEREI GNTY? 59
Jhough itis fashionable to speakofglobalization today as a phe-
nomenonthatbeganattheearliestinthe I970s, in fact transnational
commodity chains were extensive hom theverybeginning ofthe sys-
tem, and g|oba| sincethesecondha|fofthe nineteenthcentury.Tobe
sure, the improvementin techno|ogyhas madeitpossib|etotransport
more anddierentkinds ofitemsacrossgreatdistances,but! contend
thattherehas notbeenanyundamenta|changeinthestructuringand
operationsofthesecommoditychainsinthetwentiethcentury,andthat
noneislikelytooccurbecauseoftheso-calledinfrmationrevolution.
Still, thedynamicgrowth ofthe capitalistworld-economyover6ve
hundredyearshasbeenextraordinaryandveryimpressive,andofcourse
we aredazzledbytheevermoreremarkable machines andotherfrms
of applied scientihc knowledge that have come into existence. Jhe
basic claim of neoclassical economics is that this economic growth
andthesetechnologicalaccomplishmentsarethe result ofcapitalisten-
trepreneurialactivity, andthat,nowthatthelastremainingbarriers to
theendlessaccumulationofcapitalarebeingeliminated,theworldshall
go nom glory to glory,~ealth to wealth, and therefore satislaction to
satisfaction.Neoclassicaleconomists, andtheirassociates in other dis-
cipIines,paintaveryrosypictureoftheuture,providedtheirformu|as
are accepted, and a quite disma| oneif these frmu|as are rejected or
even hampered.
Butevenneoc|assica|economistswi||admitthatthe|ast6vehundred
yearshavenotbeeninrea|ityonesofun|imited"freHowoftheFctors
ofproduction."!ndeed,thatiswhatthetalkabout"globaIization"tells
us. Seemingly, itisonlytoay, andnotevenyet,thatweare seeingthis
trulyleeGow.!fso, onehastowonderhowthe capitalistentrepreneurs
havebeenabletodosowellpriortothelastfewdecades,sincepersons
ofvirtuallyeveryintellectualandpoliticalpersuasionseemtoagreethat
capitalist entrepreneurs have indeed, as a group, done quitewellover
the past few centuries in terms oftheir abilityto accumulate capital.
Jo explain this seeming anoma|y, we have to turn tothat part ofthe
storythattheneoclassicaleconomists since ALredMarshulhavebeen
strenuouslyexcludingnomconsideration,thepoliticalandsocialstory.
And here iswhere the states come i.
Themodernstateisapecu|iarcreature, sincethese statesareso-ca||ed
sovereignstateswithinaninterstate system. ! contendthatthepo|itica|
structures that existed in noncapita|ist systems did not operate in the
samewayandthattheyconstitutedquahtative|yadifferentkind ofin-
60 STATES? SOVEREI GNTY?
stitution.Whatthenarethepeculiaritiesofthemodernstate?Iirstand
fremost, thatitclaims sovereignty. Sovereignty, as it hasbeen deGned
sincethe sixteenthcentury,is aclaim notaboutthestatebutaboutthe
interstatesystem. !tisadoubleclaim,lookingbothinwardandoutward.
Sovereignty ofthe state, inward-looking, is the assertionthat,within
itsboundaries ,whichthereforemustnecessarilybeclearlydeGnedand
legitimated within the interstate system), the state may pursue what-
ever policies it deems wise, thatit maydecreewhateverlawsit deems
necessary, andthatitmaydothiswithoutanyindividual,group,orsub-
state structure inside the state having the rightto reFse to obey the
laws. Sovereignty ofthe state, outward-looking, is the argument that
no other state in the system has therightto exercise anyauthority, di-
rectlyorindirectly,withintheboundaries ofthegivenstate,sincesuch
an attemptwould constitute a breach ofthe given state's sovereignty.
No doubt, earlierstatefrms alsoclaimedauthoritywithintheirrealms,
but"sovereignty" involves in addition the mutual recognition ofthese
claimsofthestateswithinaninterstatesystem.Thatis, sovereigntyin
themodernworldis a reciprocal concept.
However, as soon as we putthese claims on paper, we see immedi-
atelyhowfartheyarehomadescriptionofhowthemodernworldreally
works. Nomodernstate haseverbeentrulyinwardlysovereigndetcto,
sincetherehasalwaysbeen internalresistancetoitsauthority. !ndeedin
most statesthisresistance has led to institutionalizinglegallimitations
oninternalsovereigntyintheform,amongothers, ofconstitutionallaw.
Norhas anystateevenbeentrulyoutwardlysovereign,sinceinterFrence
byonestateintheaftirsofanotheris common currency,and sincethe
entirecorpusofinternationallaw,admittedlyaweakreed)representsa
series oflimitations on outward sovereignty. !nanycase, strong states
notoriously do not Flly reciprocate recognition ofthe sovereignty of
weakstates. Sowhyissuch an absurd ideaputfrth?Andwhydo! say
thatthis claimto sovereigntywithin an interstate systemisthepeculiar
political characteristic of the modern world-system, in comparison to
other kinds ofworld-systems?
The concept of sovereigntywas in fact frmulated in western Eu-
ropeatatimewhenstatestructureswereveryweakinreaLty. Stateshad
smallandineective bureaucracies,armedfrcestheydidnotcontrol
verywell,andallsorts ofstronglocalauthoritiesandoverlapping|uris
dictionswithwhichtodeal.!tisonlywiththeso-caLednewmonarchies
ofthelateFteenth centurythatthebalancebegins,|ustbegins, to be
SATES? SOVEREIGNTY? 61
redressed. Thedoctrineoftheabso|uterightofmonarchswasa theo-
retica|c|aimofweakru|ers6rafar-outopiatheyhoped toestab|ish.
Theirarbitrarinesswasthemirroroftheirre|ative impotence. Modern
dip|omacy,withitsrecognitionofextraterritoria|ityandthesafepassage
ofdip|omats,wasaninventionofRenaissancelta|yandspreadEurope-
wide onIy in the sixteenth century. The estab|ishment of a minimaBy
institutona|ized interstate system took over a century to rea|ize, with
the Peace of Westpha|ia in 1648.
Thestoryofthepasthvehundredyearshasbeenthes|owbutsteady
|inearincrease,withinthenameworkofthe capita|istwor|d-economy,
of the interna| power of the states and of the authority of the insti-
tutionsoftheinterstatesystem. Sti||,we shou|d not exaggerate. These
structureswent nom avery|owpointon thesca|etosomewheremr-
therup thesca|e,butatno point have theyapproached anythingthat
mightbeca||edabso|utepwer. Iurthermore,ata||pointsintime, some
states ,thoseweca|| strong) had greater interna| andgreater externa|
power than most other states. We shou|d of course be c|ear what we
mean by power here. Power is not bombast, and it is not a theoreti-
ca||y,thatis,|egaBy)un|imitedauthority.Poweris measured byresu|ts,
powerisaboutgettingone'sway. Thetru|ypowerfu|canbe,andusuaBy
are) sou-spoken,respectfu|, and quiet|y manipu|ative, the tru|ypwer-
t succeed. The powerfu| are those who are heeded, even when their
|egitimacyison|ypartia||y accorded. Theirthreat of force most of ten
obviates the needtouse it.Thetru|ypowerfu areMachiave||ian.They
knowthattheirabi|itytouseforceinthemtureusuaByisdiminishedby
theveryprocessofactua|Iyusingitinthepresent,andtheyaretherefore
quite sparing and prudentin such use.
Thispo|itica|systemofsovereign stateswithin aninterstatesystem,
ofstatesandaninterstatesystembothhavingasintermediatedegreeof
power, suited perfect|y the needs ofcapita|ist entrepreneurs. Iorwhat
do persons whose goa| is the end|ess accumu|ation of capita| need in
ordertorea|izetheirobjectives?Or, anotherwayofaskingthis is.Why
isn't the free market sufhcient for their purposes? Cou|d they rea||y
do better in a wor|d in which no po|itica| authority existed at aB? To
ask the question is to see that no capitist or capita|ist apo|ogist
not even Mi|ton Iriedman,notevenAynRandhas everquiteasked
6r this. They have insisted at the very |east on having the so-ca||ed
night watc!manstate.
Nowwhatdoes a nightwatchman do? He sits in re|ative darkness,
twiddling his thumbs in boredom, occasionally twirling his baton or
revolverwhen not asleep, andwaiting. His unction isto ward oin-
truders who intend to piIfer property. He does this primariIy|ust by
beingthere. So herewe are at basics, theuniversallynoted demand fr
securingpropertyrights. Jhere'snopintinaccumulatingcapitalifyou
can't hold on to it.
Jhere are three ma|orways in which entrepreneurs can lose accu-
mulatedcapitaloutside marketoperations. Capitalcanbe stolen,it can
be conG scated, it can be taxed. JheFin one frm or anotheris aper-
sistent problem. Outside the modern world-system,the basic dehnse
againstserious theft had always been to investin private securitysys-
tems. Jhis was even true of the capitalist world-economy in its early
days. Jhere exists, however, an alternative, whichis totranshr therole
ofprovidingantitheFsecuritytothestates, genericallythisiscalledthe
plice Fnction. Jhe economicadvantages of shiftingthe securityrole
uom private to public hands is admirablylaid out in Irederic Lane's
Prots fom Power inwhichheinventstheterm"protectionrent"tode-
scribetheincreasedproGtsthatresulteduomthishistoricshift,abeneGt
uomwhichsomeentrepreneurs,thoseinstrongstates)drewfargreater
advantage than others.
Iorthe trulyrich, however, theFhasprobablybeen asmallerprob
lem, historically, than conGscation. ConG scation always was a ma|or
political and economic weapon in the hands of rulers, especially of
powerulrulers,in noncapitalistsystems. ConGscationhasundoubtedly
been one ofthe ma|or mechanismswherebycapitalists were prevented
uom making the priority of the endless accumulation of capital pre-
vail. Jhis is whyinstitutionmizing the illegitimacy of conGscationvia
the establishment not only of property rights but of the "rule of law"
hasbeen anecessarycondition ofconstructingacapitalisthistoricalsys-
tem ConFscationremainedwidespreadintheearlydaysofthemodern
world-system, if notdirectlythen indirectlyviastatebankruptcies ,see
thefursuccessiveonesoftheSpanishHapsburgs),andconGscationvia
socialization hasbeen a phenomenon of thetwentieth century. None-
theless,theremarkablethingisnothowmuchbuthowlittleconGscation
therehasbeen. Jherehasbeen nocomparablelevelofsecurityforcap-
italistsinanyotherworld-system,andthissecurityagainstconGscation
hasactuallygrownwithtime.Eventhesocializationprocesseshavebeen
uequently effectuated "with compensation," and, urthermore, as we
know, they have often been reversed and, therefre, uom a systemic
SATES? SOVEREIGNTY? 63
pointofview, havebeenon|ytemporary. lnanycase,theprvasiveness
oftheru|eof|awhastendedtomakemture|eve|sofincomemorepre-
dictab|e,whicha|Iowscapita|iststomakemorerationa|investmentsand
therefore u|timate|ymoreproht.
Asfortaxation, no onewantstobe taxed ofcourse, butcapita|ists
asa c|ass havenever been opposed towhattheythinkofas reasonab|e
taxation.Iromtheirpointofview,reasonab|etaxationisthepurchaseof
servicesfrom thestate.Aswitha||otherpurchases,capita|istspreferto
paythe|owestratesavai|ab|e,buttheydonotexpecttogettheseservices
gratis. lnaddition,asweknow, taxesonpaperarenotthesameastaxes
rea||ypaid. Stil|, it isfairtosaythattherateofrea|taxationhas grown
over th centuries of the capita|ist wor|d-economy, but this is because
theserviceshavegrown.ltisnotata||surethatitwou|dbe|esscost|y
fr capita|ists to assume the costs of these necessary services direct|y.
lndeed, l wou|d argue that re|ative|y high rates of taxation are a p|us
for|argecapita|ists,since much, even most, ofthemoneyisrecyc|edto
themin onewayoranother,whichmeansthatstatetaxation tends tobe
awayofshiftingsurp|us-va|uefromsma||enterprisesandtheworking
c|asses to the |arge capita|ists.
Whataretheservicesthatcapita|istsneedofthestate?Thehrstand
greatest servicetheyrequireis protection againstthenee market. The
free market is the morta| enemyofcapita| accumu|ation. The hypo-
thetica| free market, so dear to the e|ucubrations of economists, one
withmu|tip|ebuyersandse||ers,aofwhomshareperfectinFrmation,
wou|dofcoursebeacapita|istdisaster.Whocou|dmakeanymoneyin
it?The capita|istwou|dbe reduced to the income of the hypothetica|
pro|etarian of the nineteenth century, |iving offwhat mightbe ca||ed
"the iron |aw of prohts in a free market," just enough bare|y to sur-
vive.Weknowthatthisisnothowitworks, butthatis becausetherea|
existing market is by no means uee.
Obvious|y, anygivenproducerwiII beab|eto increasehisreturns to
the extent that he monopo|izes the market. But the free market does
tendtounderminemonopo|ies,whichisofcoursewhatthespokesper-
sons ofcapta|ists have a|ways said. lfan operation isproGtab|e, and
monopo|ized operations are by dehnition so, then otherentrepreneurs
wiBenterthemarketiftheycan,therebyreducingthepriceatwhicha
given item is so|d on the market. "lftheycan|" The market itse|fputs
on|yvery|imited constraintsonentry. These constraints are ca||ed efh-
ciency. lf anentrantC matchtheefhciencyofexistingproducers, the
64 SATES? SOVEREIGNTY?
marketyswe|come. Therea||ysignihcantconstraintsonentryarethe
doingofthe state, orratherofthestates.
Thestateshavethreemajormechanismsthattransformtheeconomic
transactions on the market. The most obvious one is|ega| constraint.
Thestatescan decreeorfrbid monopo|ies, orcreatequotas. Themost
uti|ized methodsareimport/exportprohibitionsand,evenmoreimpor-
tant, patents. Byre|abe|ingsuch monopo|ies "inte||ectua|property," the
hopeisthatnoonewi||noticehowincompatib|ethisnotcniswiththe
conceptofaheemarket, orperhapsit|etsus see howincompatib|ethe
concept ofpropertyis with that ofa hee market. After a||, the c|as-
sic mugger's openinggambit, "Your moneyoryour |ife," offers a hee
marketa|ternative. Sodoesthec|assicterroristmenace,"oX ore|se."
Prohibitionsareimportantfrentrepreneurs,buttheydoseemtovi-
o|ate gross|y much of the rhetoric. Sothereexists a certain amount of
po|itica|hesitationto use them toohequent|y. Thestatehasothertoo|s
inthecreationofmonopo|ies thatare somewhat|essvisib|eandhence
probab|y moreimportant. Thestatecan distortthe marketveryeasi|y.
Since themarketpresumab|yfvors the mostefhcient,andefhciencyis
a questionofreducing costfrcomparab|eoutput,thestatecanquite
simp|yassume part ofthe cot of theentrepreneur. lt assumes partof
the costswheneverit in anywaysubsidizes the entrepreneur. The state
cando this direct|yforagivenproduct. But moreimportant|ythestate
can do this onbeha|f ofmu|tip|e entrepreneurs simu|taneous|y in two
ways. lt can bui|d so-ca||edinhastructure, which ofcourse means that
given entrepreneurs do not have to assumethose costs. Thisisusum y
justihed on the grounds that the costs are too high fr any sing|e en-
trepreneurandthatsuchstateexpenditurerepresentsacolIectivesharing
ofthecostthatbenehts everyone. Butthisexp|anationassumesthata
entrepreneurs beneGt equa||y, which is se|dom the case, certain|y not
transnationaByand mostof ten notevenwithin the boundaries ofthe
state. lnanycase, the costs ofthe inrastructure are not usuay im-
posed ontheco|Iectivityofbenehciariesbutona||taxpayers, andeven
disproportionate|y onnonusers.
Norissuchdirect assumption ofcostsviainfrastructure the|argest
sing|e assistancegivenbythestates. Thestates oHer theentrepreneurs
the possibi|ity of not paying the costs of repairing the damage they
do to what is not their property. lfan entrepreneurpol|utes a stream
and doesn't pay the costs either ofavoiding thepol|utionor ofrestor-
ing the stream to a pristine state, defcto the state is prmitting the
STATES? SOVEREIGNTY? 65
transmissionofthecosttosocietyat large, abillthatisoften notpaid
forgenerationsthereafer, butwhicheventuallymustbepaidbysome-
one.!nthemeantime,theabsenceofconstraintontheentrepreneur,his
abilityto"externalize"hiscosts,isasubsidyofconsiderableimportance.
Nordoes this endtheprocess.Thereis aspecialadvantageofbeing
anentrepreneurina strongstate thatentrepreneurs inother states do
not en|oy to the same degree.And here we see the advantage ofthe
location ofstatesinaninterstate system homthe point ofviewofthe
entrepreneurs. Strong states can prevent other states hom conferring
monopolistic advantages against certain entrepreneurs, usuallycitizens
oftheir own state.
The propositionisverysimp|e. Rea|proGt, the kind that permits a
serious end|ess accumu|ation of capita|, is possib|e on|y with re|ative
monopo|ies, fr however |ong they|ast. And such monopo|ies are not
possib|ewithoutthestates. Iurthermore,thesystem ofmu|tip|e states
within an interstate system offers the entrepreneurs great assistance in
makingsurethatthestatesrestrictthemselves tohelpingthemanddo
notoversteptheirboundsandhurtthem.Thecuriousinterstatesystem
permits entrepreneurs,particularlylargeones, to circumventstatesthat
gettoobiglortheirbritches, byseekingthepatronage ofotherstates,
orusingonestatemechanismtocurbanotherstatemechanism.
Thisbringsus tothe thirdway inwhichstates canpreventthelee
marketlromfunctioningheely. The statesarema|orpurchasersintheir
national markets, andlarge states command an impressive proportion
ofpurchasesintheworldmarket.Theyarehequentlymonopsonists, or
near-monopsonists,lorcertainveryexpensivegoods,forexample,today,
frarmamentsorsuperconductors.Theycouldofcourseusethispower
to|ower prices fr themse|ves as purchasers,butinstead theyseem fr
themostparttousethispowertopermittheproducerstomonopo|izea
rough|yequa|shareofthemarket,andtoraise theirpricesscandaIous|y.
But, you wm think, about what thenwas Adam Smith so agitated?
idhe notinveigh againstthe state'sro|eincreatingmonopo|ies?id
henotca||frlaissez-faire,|aissez-passer?Yes,hedid,uptoapoint.The
reason why, however, is thecrucialthingto see. Obviously, one man's
monopolyis anotherman's poison. And entrepreneurs ealwayscom-
petinghrstofalIwitheach other. So, naturally, thosewhoareoutare
always screaming against state-induced monopolies. Adam Smith was
the spokesman of these poor, benighted underdogs. To L sure, once
theunderdogshaveundonethem
9
nopoliesinwhichtheydidnotpar-
ticipate,theyhappi|yproceedtotrytocreatenewonesoftheirown,at
whichpointtheytendtoceasecitingAdamSmithandinsteadbankroll
neoconservative mundations.
Ofcourse,monopo|yisnottheon|yadvantagecapita|istsobtainhom
the state. Jhe other main advantage, regularlynoted, is the mainte-
nance oforder. Order within the state means 6rst ofa||order against
insurgencyby theworking classes. Jhis is more than the police fnc-
tionagainsttheft, it is thestate'sroleinreducingthe ef6cacyofclass
strugg|e byworkers. Jhis is done through a combinationoffrce, de-
ception, and concessions. What we mean by a libral state is one in
whichtheamountofmrceisreducedandtheamountofdeceptionand
concessionsincreased.Jhisworksbetter,tobesure,butitisnotalways
possible, especially in peripheral zones of the world-economy, where
there istoo |itt|e surp|us avai|ab|eto permit the state toa||ocate much
ofittoconcessions.Eveninthemostliberalstate,however,therearese-
riouslegalconstrictionsonthemodesofactionbytheworkingclasses,
andonthewho|etheseconstrictionsaregreater,usual|yfargreater,than
thosereciprocallyimposedonemployers. Nolegalsystemisclass-blind,
a|though,asaresu|tofworkers'po|itica|activityoverthepasttwocen-
turies, thesituationdid tendtogetsomewhatbetterafter 945thanit
previouslyhadbeen.Itisthisimprovementinthepositionofthework-
ing c|asses that the resurgent conservative ideo|ogy around the wor|d
since the 970s has been contesting.
What,however,aboutinterstateorder?Schumpeter,inoneofhisfew
naive moments,insistedthatinterstatedisorderwas anegative :om the
pointofviewofentrepreneurs anda socialatavism.Perhapsitwas not
navetthat|ed Schumpeter to insist on this-perhaps itwas mere|y
his desperate need nottoaccepttheeconomiclogicofLenin's Imperi
alism. In any case, it seems to me quite c|ear that capita|ists genera||y
Fe|aboutwarwhattheyfeelabouttaxation. Jheirattitudedependson
theparticular circumstances. War against Saddam Hussein mayseem
positive interms ofpreservingcertain possibi|ities ofcapita| accumu-
lation or certain capitalists. Evenworld wars are useful fr particular
capitalists, usually provided theyare serving the winning side and are
|ocated somewhat outofthe direct|ineof6re,oriftheirproductionis
panicularlygearedtowartimeneeds ofeither side.
Sti||, Schumpeter has a point ingenera|, in that too much or too
persistentinterstatedisordermakesitdif6culttopredictthemarketsit-
uation and leads to capricious destruction of property. It also makes
impossib|e,orat|eastverydiFhcu|t,certain kindsoFeconomictransac-
tions, interFeringwithpreviousroutes oFcommodity chains. !n short,
iF the wor|d-systemwerecontinuous|yin a state oF"wor|dw," cap-
italism probably wouldn'tworkverywell. So the states are needed to
preventthis. Orratheritis usem|tohavea hegemonicpowerthatcan
institate a certain degree oFregulation in the system, which increases
predictabi|ityandminimizescapricious|osses.Butonceagaintheorder
ahegemonicpowerimposesisalwaysbetterfrsomecapita|iststhanFor
others. CollectiveunityoF the capitalistclassesis nottoo strongin this
domain.We cou|d sum this up bysayingthatwagingwar is, atmany
points in tme andfr certain capitalists, agreat service, eveniFthis is
nota|waystrue.!certain|ydonotwishtosuggestthatcapita|ists,sing|y
orcollectively, callwarsonandoFF. Capitalistsarepowerfalinacapital-
stwor|d-economy, buttheydonotcontro|everything. Others getinto
the pictare oF deciding onwars.
!t is at this point that we must discuss the so-ca||ed autonomy oF
the states. Capitalists seek to accumulate capital. Politicians, fr the
mostpart, primarily seek to obtain, and remain in, oFG ce. One might
thinkoFthem aspttyentrepreneurs who, however, exercise consider-
ablepowerbeyondtheirown capital. RemaininginoFGce is afanction
oFsupport -supportoFcapita|iststratatobe sure,buta|so supportoF
voters/citizens/popular strata.Jhis latter supportiswhatmakespossi-
b|etheminima| |egitimacyoFastatestructure. Withoutthis minima|
legirimacy, thecostoFremaininginoFGceisveryhigh,andthelong-run
stability oF the state structure is |imited.
Whatlegitimatesastatewithinthecapitalistworld-economy?Surely
itisnotthefairness oFthedistributionoFthe surp|us-value orevenoF
the application oFthelaws.!Fonesaysit isthemythsthateverystate
uses aboutitshistoryororiginsorspecialvirtues, onestillneeds toask
whypeop|ebuyinto these myhs. !tis notse|F-evident thattheywi||.
And in any case we knowthat popular insurrections occur repeatedly,
some oF which even invo|ve cu|tura| revo|utionary processes that ca||
into question these basic myths.
So|egitimacyneedsexp|aining.JheWeberiantypo|ogya||owsusto
understandthediIerentFashionsinwhichpeoplelegitimatetheirstates.
WhatWeberca||srationa|-|ega||egitimationisoFcoursethefrmthat
liberal ideologypreaches.!nmuch oFthe modern wor|d, thisorm has
come to prevail, iF not a oFthe time, at least fr a good deal oFthe
time. But why does it prevail? ! nsist not on|y on the importance oF
this question but on rhe act that an answer is ar rom sel-evident.
Welive inahighlyunequalworldWeliveinoneinwhichpolarization
is constantly increasing and in which even the middle strata are not
keeping up proportionately with the upper strata, despite any and all
improvements in their absolute situation. So whydo so manypersons
tolerate thissituation, evenembraceit?
There are, it seems to me, two kinds o answers one might give.
One is relative deprivation. We may be badly o, or at least not well
enougho,butthey arereallybadlyo. Soletusnotroktheboat, and
abve allletusprevent them uom rockingthe boat. That this kind o
collective psychologyplays a majorrole seems to me to b verywidely
accepted, whether one applauds itbytalking oa sizable middle class
as the basis o democratic stability or deplores itby talking oa labor
aristocracy having flse consciousness, andwhetheronethinksoit as
operatingprimarilywithinstatesorwithintheworld-systemasawhole.
Thisexplanationisastructuralone, thatisto say, itisanargumentthat
a certain collective psychologyderives uom the very structure o the
capitalistworld-economy. !this aspect othe structureremains intact,
that is, iwe continue to have a hierarchical structure that has many
positions on theladder, then the degree olegitimationresultinguom
this structure should remain constant. At the moment, theteality o
a hierarchical ladder o positions doe seem to have remained intact,
andthereore the structuralexplanation cannotexplainanyvariationin
legitimation.
Theredoes,however, seemtobeaveryimportantsecondfctorthat
accounts mr continuing legitimation o state structures. This actor is
moreconjuncturalandthereorecanvary,andithasindeedvaried.The
degreeolegitimationothecapitalistworld-economyborethenine-
teenthcenturywasundoubtedlyquitelow, andithasremainedlowin
mostotheperipheralzonesrightintothelate twentieth century. The
continuouscommodi6cationoproductivetransactionsseemedtobring
changes, many or even most owhich were negative hom the point
oviewothe directproducers. Still, afertheIrench Revolution, the
situation began to change. !t is not that the impact o commodi6 ca-
tion becameless negative, atleastmrthelargemajority. !tisthattheir
restiveness tookthemrmoinsistingthatsovereigntycouldnotbe dis-
cussedmerelyasade6 nitionoauthorityandlawulpower. Onehadto
askthequestion,Whoexercisedthispower?Whowas the sovereign?!
the answerwerenotto betheabsolute monarch,whatalternative was
STATES? SOVEREIGNTY? 69
thete?Aswe know, the newanswetthat began to bewidely accepted
was the people."
To saythatthepeopleate soveteignisnotto sayanythingvetypte-
cise, since one then has to decide who ate the people and by what
means they can collectively exetcise this authotity utjustsuggesting
thatthetewas such anentityasthe people" andthattheymightexet-
cisesoveteignpwethadvetytadicalimplicationsftthoseexetcisingde
factoauthotity.Thetesulthasbeenthegteatpolitico-cultutaltutmoilof
thenineteenthandtwentiethcentutiessuttoundingthequestionofhow
tointetptet,andtame,theexetcisebythepeopleoftheitsoveteignty.
The stotyofthetamingoftheexetciseofpopulatsoveteigntyisthe
stotyoflibetalideology-itsinvention,itsttiumphalascendancyinthe
nineteenthcentutyasthegeocultuteofthecapitalistwotld-economy,its
abihtytottansftmthetwocompetitotideologies ,consetvatismonthe
one hand and tadicalism/socialism on the othet) intoavatatsoflibet-
alism. Howthiswas doneI havediscussedatlengthinmybookAfer
Liberalism. Let mejust tesumehete theessentials.
Libetalism ptesented itself as a centtist docttine. The libetals
pteached that ptogtess was desitable and inevitable and could best
be achieved if aptocess of tational tefotm wete instituted, one con-
ttolledbyspecialists, whocould, onthebasis ofaninfotmed analysis,
implementthenecessatyteftmsthtoughoutthehistoticalsystem,us-
ingtheauthotityofthestatesastheitbasicpoliticallevet. Eacedwith
the impetuous demands of the dangetous classes" of the nineteenth
centuty -the utban ptoletatiatofwestetn Eutope and Notth Amet-
ica-thelibetalsofIetedathtee-ptongedptogtamofteftms.sufftage,
the beginnings ofa welfate state, and a politicallyintegtating, tacist
nationalism.
This thtee-ptonged ptogtam wotked exceptionly well, and, by
1914, the otiginal dangetous classes, the utbanptoletatiat of west-
etn Eutope andNotth Ametica,wetenolongetdangetous.|ustthen,
howevet, the libetals found themselves confontedwith a new set of
dangetous classes"-the populat fotces in the test of the wotld. In
thetwentiethcentuty, thelibetalssoughttoapplyasimilattefotmpto-
gtam at the intetstatelevel. The self-detetmination of nations setved
asthefanctionalequivalentofunivetsalsutage.Theeconomicdevel-
opmentofundetdevelopednationswasoetedastheequivalentofthe
nationalwelfate state. The thitd ptong, howevet, was unavailable be-
cause, once one was ttyingto include the entite wotld, thete was no
outsde group aganstwhomone could construct an ntegratng, racst
natonalsm.
Nonetheless,thetwenteth-centuryversonoFworld-levellberalsm
seemed also to work up to a pont and mr a whle, especally n the
"glorous"years aFter 94S. But themrmula came unstuckas oF 98.
To besure,theselF-determnatonoFnatonsoFFeredlttleproblem.But
world-level redstrbuton, even to a modest degree, threatened toput
an enormous strain on thepossbltes oFendlessly accumulating cap-
tal. Andthe thrdprongwas entrely absent. As oFthe 970s, global
lberalsm no longer seemed to be vable.
Tounderstandwhy ths s so devastatng to the system, we have to
understandwhat twasthatlberalsm had o0eredandwhythereForet
had successFuUy stablzed the system poltcallymralong whle. The
three-pronged program thatthelberals had used totame the danger-
ous classes dd not o0er the dangerous classes what theywanted and
hadntallydemandedeasily enough summarzed nthe classcslo-
gan oFthe Irench Revoluton. "Lberty, equaLty, uaternty." !F these
demands had been met, therewould no longerhave been a captalst
world-economy, snce twouldhavebeenmpossbletoensuretheend-
lessaccumulatonoFcaptal.Whatthelberalso0eredthereForewashalF
a pe, or more exactly about one-seventh oF a pe. a reasonable stan-
dard oFlvng For a mnorty oF theworld's populaton ,those fmed
mddle strata) . Now ths small pewas doubtless alotmorethan this
one-seventh had had bemre, buttwas Far less than an equal share oF
thepe, andtwas almostnothngat allForthe other six-sevenths.
Cvng ths much ddnotsgnFcantly dmnsh the possibiltes oF
accumulating captalForthelarge captalsts, butt dd accomplsh the
poltcal objectve oF pullng the plug on revolutonary hrment over
the mddle run. The one-seventh who bene6ted materm y were mr
the most part qute grateFl, all the more so when theysaw the con-
dtons oFthose they le behnd. ,RememberTawney's mage oFthe
talented"scramblngj toshore,undeterredbythethoughtoFdrownng
companons'"')What s more nterestngs the reactonoFthe drown-
ng companons. They came to nterpret the ablty oFthe talented to
swm to shore as evdence oF hop mr them. Ths was understandable
psychologcally F mprudent analytcmly.
Lberalsmo0eredthe opate oFhope,andtwasswallowedwhole.!t
wasswallowednotleastbytheleadersoFtheworld'santsystemcmove-
ments,whomoblzed onthepromse oFhope.Theyclamedthatthey
wouldachieve thegood societybyrevolution,butoFcourse theyinFact
meantbyreorm,which they, as substitute specialists or those oFFered
bythe currentauthorities,wouldadministeroncetheygainedcontroloF
theleversoFstatepwer. IsupposethatiFyouaredrowning,andsome-
oneoershope,itisnotirrationaltograbholdoFwhateverisextended
asa|iFesaver.One cannotretrospective|yreprimandthepopu|armasses
oFthewor|dfroering theirsupportand theirmora| energy to the
mu|tip|eantisystemicmovements thatvoiced theirgrievances.
Those in authority, fcedwithvo|ub|e, vigorous, and denunciatory
antisystemicmovements, cou|d reactinone oFtwo ways. !Ftheywere
uightened, and they ofen were, they could tryto cut oFFthe heads oF
whatthesawasvi pers.ButsincethebeastswereinFacthydra-headed,
the more sophisticated deFenders oF thestatus quo realized thatthey
needed more subtle responses. They came to see that the antisystemic
movementsactuallyservedin aperversewaytheinterestsoFthesystem.
Mobilizingthe masses meantchannelingthe masses, and statepower
ortheleaders hadveryconservatizingeFFects.Iurthermore,once such
movementswereinpower, theymovedthemselves againsttheimpeta-
ous demands oF their fllowers, and tended to do so with as much,
evenmore,severitythan theirpredecessors. Iarthermore, the sedative
oF hope was even more eFGcacious when the peddler was a certiFed
revolutionary|eader. !Fthe Fturewas theirs, the popular masses rea-
soned that theycou|d aord to wait a whi|e, especial|yiF theyhad a
"progressive" state.Theirchi|dren,at|east, wou|dinherittheearth.
The shockoF1968 was more than momentary. The shock oF 1968
was the rea|ization that the who|e geocu|ture oF |ibera|ism, and es-
peciu|y the construction oF historica| optimism by the antisystemic
movements, was tainted, nayuaudulent, and that the children oFthe
popular masses were not scheduled to inherit the earth, indeed, their
children might be even worse oFF than they. And b these popular
massesbegan to abandon the antisystemic movements, andbeyondthe
movements alloFliberal refrmism, andtherefre abandonedthe state
structures as vehicles oFtheircollectivebetterment.
To abandon awell-wornpath oFhopeis notdonewithlightness oF
heart. Ior it does not fllow thatthe sx-sevenths oF humanitywere
ready to accept quietly their fte as oppressed and unFulGlled human
beings. _itethecontrary. When oneabandonsthe accepted promises
oFhope,onesearchesForotherpaths.Theproblemisthattheyarenot
so easy to G nd. But there is wo
se. The states maynot have oFFered

72 STATES? SOVEREI GNTY?
|ong-termbettermentfrthemajorityofthepopu|ationsofthewor|d,
buttheydido eracertain amountofshort-termsecurityagainstvio-
|ence. lf, however, thepopu|ations no|onger|egitimatethestates, they
tend neither to obey its po|icemen nor to pay its t-co||ectors. And
thereuponthestatesare|essab|etooershort-termsecurityagainstvi-
o|ence.lnthiscase,individua|s ,and6rms)havetoreturntotheancient
so|ution,that ofprovidingtheirownsecurity.
As soon as private securitybecomes onceagain an important socia|
ingredient,conhdenceintheru|eof|awtendstobreakdown,andthere-
fre so does civiI ,or civic) consciousness. C|osed groups emerge ,or
reemerge) as theon|ysahhaven, and c|osedgroupstend to beinto|-
erant, vio|ent, and inc|ined toward zona| puri6cations. As intergroup
vio|ence rises, the |eadership tends to become more and more Mahoso
in characterMa6oso in the sense ofcombining muscu|arinsistence
onunquestioningintragroup obedienceandvena|pro6teering. We see
thisa aroundusnow, andwesha||seemuchmoreofitinthedecades
to come.
HostiIity to the state is tshionab|e now, and spreading. The anti-
state themes common to conservatism, |ibera|sm, and radica|sm/
socia|ism, which had been ignored in practice fr over 150 years, are
now 6nding deep resonance inpo|itica|behavior in a||camps. Shou|d
notthecapita|iststrata behappy?lt seems doubtfuthatthey are, for
theyneed the state, the strongstate,farmorethantheirofhcia|rhetoric
has ever admitted.
Nodoubttheydon'twantperiphera|statestointerferewiththetrans-
actions ows of the wor|d-economy, and now that the antisystemic
movements are in deep troub|e, the big capita|ists are current|y ab|e
to use the lMI and other institutions to enfrce thisprehrence. lt is,
however, one thingfrthe Russian state no|ongerto keep outforeign
investors, it is quite anotherthing fr the Russian stateto be unab|eto
guaranteethe persona|safetyoftheentrepreneurswhovisitMoscow.
m arecentissueof CEPAL Review, |uan Car|os Lerdamakesavery
cautious assessmentofthe |oss of autonomy ofstate authoritiesin the
tce ofg|oba|ization. He does,however, stress whathebe|ieves tobe a
bright side inthe increasedvigorofwor|dmarketfrces.
The globalization phenomenon efectively restricts national governments'
fredom of movement. However, the disciplining frce of international
competition which underlies at least a large part of the process may have
SATES? SOVEREI GNTY? 73
considerable benefcial efects on the fture course of public policy i n the
countries of the region. Thus, when talking abut "loss of autonomy,"
care must be taken to check whether it is not rather a matter of a wel
come "reduction in the level of arbitrariness" with which public plicy is
sometimes applied.2
HereweseewhatonemghtcalltheoFGcallne.Themarketsob|ectve
and thereFore "dscplnng."What tdscplnes, tseems,s everyone's
perverse nstncts to make socal decsons on anybass otherthan the
maxmzaton oF proGts. When states make socal decsons on such
grounds,theyarebengarbitrary.
Butlet the states try not to b "arbtrary" when mportantcaptalst
nterestsare at stake, and you wllhear the shoutng. When n 1990,
ma|orU. S. Gnancal nsttutonsweren danger oFbankruptcy, Henry
bauFmanwroteanop-edpecentheNew York Times nwhchhesad.
Financial institutions are the holders, and therefore, the guardians of
Americans' savings and temporary funds, a unique public responsibility.
Trly letting the marketplace discipline the fnancial system would mean
acquiescing in an avalanche of potential failures.3
Sotherewehavet, clearlyoutlned.!tswelcomefrthemarkettods-
cplnethestateswhentheyarearbtrary, butrresponsbleFthe states
allowthesamemarkettodscplnethebanks.Asocaldecsontoretan
socalwelFaresrresponsble,butasocaldecson tosavebankssnot.
Wemustalwayskeepclearlynmndnotonlythatoneman'smonop-
oly ,or arbtrarydecson) s anotherman's poson, butthatcaptalsts
depend on the nterventon oF the states n such a multtude oFways
that any true weakenng oF state authorty s dsastrous. The case we
have been argung here s that globalzaton s not m Fact sgnGcantly
aFFctng the ablty oF the states to Fncton, nor s t the ntenton
oF large captalsts that t do so. The states are, however, frthe Grst
tmenGvehundredyears, on adownwardsldenterms oFthersover-
egnty,nwardand outward. ThssnotbecauseoFatransFormatonoF
the world-economc structures but because oFa transFormaton oFthe
geoculture, and, Grst oFalI, because oFtheloss oFhope bythepopular
massesn lberalrefrmsm andts avatars on theleFt.
OFcourse, the changen the geocultures the consequenceoFtrans-
Formatons n the world-economy, prmarly the fct thatmanyoFthe
nternalcontradctons oF the system have reached ponts where t s
nolongerpossbletomakead|ustentsthatwlIresolve onceaganthe
issuesuchthatoneseesacyc|ica|renewa|ofthecapita|istprocess.These
critica|di|emmasofthesysteminc|udeamongothersthederura|ization
of thewor|d,the reaching of|imits of eco|ogica| decay, and the 6scm
crises ofthe statesbrought onby the democratization of the po|itica|
arena and the consequent rise in the |eve|s of minimum demand fr
education and hea|th services.'
The sovereignty of the states their inward and outward sover-
eigntywithinthehameworkofaninterstatesystemisamndamenta|
pi||arofthe capita|istwor|d-economy. !fit fm s, or serious|y dec|ines,
capita|ism is untenab|e as a system. ! agreethatit is in dec|ine today,
frthe 6rst time in the history ofthe modern wor|d-system. This is
theprimarysign oftheacutecrisisofcapita|ismas ahistorica|system.
Theessentia|di|emmaofcapita|ists,sing|yandasac|ass,iswhetherto
takefu|I short-run advantageoftheweakening ofthe states, orto try
short-run repair to restore the |egitimacy of the state structures, or to
spendtheuenergytryingtoconstructana|ternativesystem.Behindthe
rhetoric, inte|ligent defenders ofthe status quo are aware ofthis crit-
ica|situation. Whi|e they aretryingtoget the rest ofus to ta|k about
the pseudo-issues ofg|oba|ization, some ofthem at |east are trying to
6gureoutwhat a rep|acement system cou|d be hke and how to move
things inthat direction. !fwedon'twant to|iveinthemturewith the
inega|itarian so|ution that theywi||promote, we shou|d b asking the
same question. Let me thus resume myposition. A capita|istwor|d-
economyrequiresa structure inwhichtherearesovereign states|inked
in aninterstate system. Such statesp|aycrucia|ro|es to sustain entre-
preneurs.Theprincipa|ones arethe assumption ofpartofthecostsof
production,theguaranteeofquasi-monopo|iestoincreaseprohtratios,
and theireortsbothtorestrain thecapacityoftheworkingc|assesto
defendtheirinterestsandtosoftendiscontentbypartia|redistributions
of surp|us-va|ue.
However, this historica| system, |ike any other, has its contradic-
tions, and when these contradictions reach a certain point ,otherwise
put,whenthetrajectoryhasmovedfarhomequi|ibrium),thenthenor-
ma|unctioningofthesystem becomes impossib|e.Thesystemreaches
apointofbifurcation. Therearemanysignsthat,today,wehavereached
this point. erura|ization,eco|ogica|exhaustion, and democratization,
eachindifferentways,reducetheabi|itytoaccumu|atecapita|.Sodoes
thefact thatthestatesare,for the6rsttimein hve hundredyears, de-
c|ining in strength not at a||becauseoftherisingstrength ofthe
SATES? SOVEREI GNTY? 75
transnationa|corporations, as is ouen asserted, butbecause ofthede-
c|ining|egitimacyaccordedtothestatesbytheirpopu|ations,theresu|t
ofhaving |ost faith inthe prospects ofgradua| ame|ioration.The state
sti|| mattersto the entrepreneurs abovea . Andbecause ofthe de-
c|iningstrengthofthestates, thetransnationa|shndthemse|vesinacute
difhcu|ty,facedastheyarewitha|ong-termprohtssqueezeforthehrst
timeandwithstatesthatareno|ongerinapositiontobai|themout.
We haveentereda time oftroub|es. The outcome is uncertain.We
cannot be sure what kind of historica| system wi rep|ace the one in
which we hnd ourse|ves. What we can know with certainty is that
the very pecu|iar system in which we |ive, and in which the states
havep|ayed a crucia| ro|e in supporting the processes of the end|ess
accumu|ation ofcapita|, canno|ongercontinueto unction.
Chuter5
Ecolog and Capitalist Costs
of Production
No Exit
Today, virtuallyeveryone agreesthattherehas been a serious degrada-
tion ofthe natural environment in whichwelive,by comparison with
thirty years ago, afrtioriby comparison with one hundred years ago,
not to speakof Gve hundred yers ago. And this is the casedespite the
fctthat there havebeencontinuoussigniGcanttechnologicalinventions
andan expansionofscientiG cknowledgethatonemighthaveexpected
wouldhaveled to the opposite consequence. As aresult,today, unlike
thirty or one hundred orGve hundred years ago, ecology hasbecomea
serious political issue in many parts ofthe world. Thereare even rea-
sonably signiFcant plitical movements organizedcentrally around the
theme ofdehnding the environment against mrther degradation and
reversing the situation to theextent possible.
Of course, the appreciation of the degree of seriousness of the
contemporaq problem ranges from those who consider doomsday as
imminent to those who consider that the problem is onewell within
the possibility ofan early technical solution. Ibelievethe majority of
persons holdaposition somewhere in-between. I aminno positionto
argue the issue homa scientiGcviewpoint. Iwilltakethisin-between
appreciationasplausibleandwiUengageinananalysis oftherelevance
ofthis issueto thepolitical economy oftheworld-system.
The entire process of the universe is of course one of unceasing
change, so themerefctthatthings arenotwhattheywerepreviously
isso banalthatit merits no noticewhatsoever. Iurthermore,withinthis
constantturbulence,therearepatternsofstructuralrenewalwecalllfe.
Keynote address at PEWS 7, "The Global Environment and the World-System," University of
California, Santa Cruz, April 3-5, 1997.
76
ECOLOGY AND CAPITALIST COSTS OF PRODUCTION 77
Living,ororganic,phenomenahaveabeginningandanendrorheirin-
dividualexisrence,burinrheprocessprocreare,sorharrhespeciesrends
ro conrinue. Bur rhis cycLcal renewal is neverperfecr, and rhe overall
ecology is rherefore never sraric. !n addirion, all livingphenomenain-
gesrinsomewayproducrsexrernalrorhem,includingmosrofrherime
orherlivingphenomena, andpredaror/preyrarios are neverperfecr, so
rharrhebiologicalmilieu is consranrlyevolving.
Iurrhermore,poisonsarenaruralphenomenaaswellandwereplaying
a role in rhe ecological balance sheers long bfore human beings gor
inro rhe picrure. To be sure, roday we know so much more chemisrry
andbiologyrhanourancesrorsdidrharweareperhapsmoreconscious
ofrhe roxinsin ourenvironmenr, a|rhough perhaps nor, since weare
aIso |earningrhese days howsophisricared rhe pre|irerare peop|eswere
aburroxinsandanriroxins.We|earnal|rheserhingsinourprimaryand
secondaryschoo|educarionandnomrhesimp|eobservarionofeveryday
|iving.Yerouenwe rend ro neg|ecr rhese obvious consrrainrs whenwe
discuss rhe polirics ofecological issues.
The onlyreasonirisworrh discussingrheseissues arallis ifwebe-
lieverharsomerhingspecialoraddirionalhasbeenhappeninginrecenr
years,alevelofincreaseddanger,andifarrhesamerimewebelieverhar
irispossiblerodosomerhingaburrhis increaseddanger.Thecaserhar
is generally made byrhegreenand orherecologymovemenrs precisely
comprisesborhrheseargumenrs.increasedlevelofdanger,forexample,
holes in rhe ozone layer, or greenhouse effecrs, oraromic melrdowns),
andporenrial solurions.
As ! said, ! amwilling ro srarr on rhe assumprion rhar rhere is a
reasonable case forincreaseddanger, onerharrequires someurgenr re-
acrion. However,inorderrobeinrel|igenrabour howroreacrrodanger,
we need ro ask rwo quesrions. Iorwhom does rhe danger exisr? And
whar exp|ains rhe increased danger? The "dangerfr whom" quesrion
hasinrurnrwocomponenrs.whom,amonghumanbeings, andwhom,
among|ivingbeings.The6rsrquesrionraisesrhecomparisonofNorrh-
Sourharrirudesoneco|ogicalquesrions,rhe secondisrheissue ofdeep
ecology. Borh in facr involve issues abourrhe narure ofcapiralisr civ-
ilizarion and rhe funcrioning of rhe capiralisr world-economy, which
meansrharbeforewecanaddressrheissueof"frwhom,"wehadberrer
analyzerhe source ofrhe increased danger.
The srory begins wirh rwo elemenraryfearures ofhisrorical capiral-
ism. One iswellknown. capiralis is a sysrem rhar has an imperarive
78 ECOLOGY AND CAPITALIST COSTS OF PRODUCTION
need to expand- expand in terms of total production, expand ge-
ographicaI|y - in order to sustain its prime obj ective, the endless
accumu|ation ofcapita|.Thesecondhatureis|essofendiscussed. An
essentia|e|ementinthe accumu|ation ofcapita|isfrcapita|ists, espe-
cia||y|argecapitaIists,nottopaytheirbi||s.Thisiswhat!caI|the"ditty
secret" of capita|ism.
Letmee|aboratethesetwopoints.The6rst, theconstantexpansion
ofthecapita|istwor|d-economy, isadmittedbyeveryone.Thedefenders
ofcapitalismtoutitasoneofitsgreatvirtues. Persons concernedwith
ecologicalproblemspointtoitasoneofitsgreatvices,andinparticular
often discuss one of the ideological underpinnings of this expansion,
which is theassertionofthe right ,indeedduty)ofhumanbeings"to
conquernature. "Now,tobesure,neitherexpansionnortheconquestof
naturewasunknown before theonsetofthecapitalistworld-economy
in the sixteenth century. But, like many other things thatwere social
phenomenapriortothistime,neitherhadexistentialpriorityinprevious
historicalsystems.Whathistoricalcapitalismdidwastopushthesetwo
themes-the actual expansion andits ideologicaljustiGcation-tothe
frenont, andthuscapita|istswereabletooverridesocialobjectionsto
thisterrib|eduo.Thisistherea|dierencebetweenhistorica|capita|ism
and previous historica| systems. theva|ues ofcapita|istciviIization
are mi||ennial, but so are other contradictory va|ues. Whatwe mean
byhistorica|capita|ism isa systemin whichthe institutions thatwere
constructed made it possib|e fr capita|istva|ues to takepriority, such
thattheworld-economywassetuponthepathofthecommodiGcation
of everythingin order that there be ceaseless accumulation of capital
fr its own sake.
Of course, the eect of this was not felt in a day or even a cen-
tury. Theexpansionhad a cumulative effect. !ttakestimeto cutdown
trees.Thetreesof!relandwere allcutdowninthe seventeenth centuty.
But there were other trees elsewhere. Today we talk about the Ama-
zon rain frest as the last real expanse, and it seems to be going fst.
!ttakestimeto pourtoxins intorivers orintotheatmosphere.Amere
Gftyyearsago, "smog"was a newlyinventedwordto describethe very
unusualconditionsofLosAngeles. !twas thoughttodescribelife i a
|oca|e that showed a heart|ess disregardforthequa|ityofIifeandhigh
cu|ture. Today, smog is everywhere, it infests Athens and Paris. And
the capita|istwor|d-economyissti||expanding atareck|essrate. Even
in this bondratiedownturn, we hearofremarkab|egrowthratios of
Eastand SoutheastAsia. Whatmaywe expectinthenext bondratie
upturn?
Iurthermore,thedemocratizationoftheworld, andtherehasbeen a
democratization, has meantthatthisexpansionremains incrediblypop-
ular in mostparts of theworld. !ndeed, it is probably more popular
than ever. More people are demanding their rights, and this includes
quite centrallytheirrightsto apiece ofthe pie. Butapiece ofthepie
foralargepercentageoftheworld'spopulation necessariIymeansmore
production, nottomentionthefactthattheabsolutesizeoftheworld
population is stillexpandingaswelI. So itis notonlycapitalistsbutor-
dinarypeoplewhowantthis.This does notstopmanyofthesesame
peopleuom also wanting to slowdown the degradation oftheworld
environment. But thatsimplyproves thatwe are involved in one more
contradiction ofthishistoricalsystem.Thatis,manypeoplewanttoen-
|oyboth more trees and morematerialgoods frthemselves, and alot
ofthem simplysegregatethetwodemandsin theirminds.
Iromthepointofview ofcapitalists, aswe know, thepointofin-
creasingproduction is to make pronts. !n a distinction thatdoes not
seemtomein theleastoutmoded,itinvolvesproductionfrexchange
and not productionfor use. ProFs on a single operation are the mar-
ginbetweenthesalespriceandthetotalcostofproduction,thatis,the
cost of everythingit takes to bring that productto the point of sale.
Ofcourse, the actual pronts on thetotality of a capitalist's operations
arecalculated by multiplyingthismarginbythe amountoftotalsales.
Thatistosay, the"market"constrainsthesalesprice,inthat,atacertain
point, the pricebecomes sohighthatthetotal sales proGts is less than
ifthe sales price were lower.
Butwhatconstrainstotalcosts?Thepriceof laborplaysaverylarge
rolein this, andthisof course includes theprice ofthelabor thatwent
intoalloftheinputs.The marketprice oflaborisnotmerely, however,
the result of the relationship of supply and demand of labor but also
of the bargaining power oflabor. This is a complicated sub|ect, with
manyfactorsenteringintothestrengthofthisbargainingpower.What
can be said is that, over the history of the capitalist world-economy,
this bargaining power has been increasingas a seculartrend, whatever
the ups and downs of its cyclical rhythms. Today, this strength is at
theverge of asingularratchet upward aswemove into thetwenty-nrst
centurybecauseofthe deruralization oftheworld.
eruralizationiscrucialtothepriceoflabor.Reservearmiesoflabor
80 ECOLOGY AND CAPITALI S COSTS OF PRODUCTION
areoFdnrentkindsintermsoFtheirbargainingpower.Theweakest
group has mways been those persons resident in rur areas who come
to urban areas Forthe Grst time to engage inwage employment. Cen
erallyspeaking,Forsuchpersonstheurbanwage,eveniFextremelylow
by world, or even local, standards, represents an economic advantage
overremainingintherural are. !tprobablytakes twentyto thirtyyears
beFore such persons shi their economic uame oF reFerence and be-
comeFuLyaware oFtheirpotentialpwerintheurbanworkplace,such
thattheybegintoengageinsyndicalactionoFsomekindtoseekhigher
wages. Personslongresidentinurbanareas,eveniFtheyareunemployed
inthefrmal economy andlivnginterrible slum conditions, generally
demandhigherwage levels beFore acceptingwage employment.This is
becausetheyhavelearnedhowto obtainuom alternativesourcesinthe
urbancenteraminimumleveloFincomehigherthanthatwhichisbeing
oFFered to newlyarrived ruralmigrants.
Thus, eventhough there is stillan enormous armyoFreservelabor
throughouttheworld-system, theFact thatthesystemis being rapidly
deruralized means that the average price oF labor worldwide is going
up steadly. This means in turn that the average rate oF proGts must
necessarilygodownovertime.This squeezeontheproGtsratiomakes
allthemoreimportantthereductionoFcostsotherthanlaborcosts.But,
oFcourse,allinputsintoproductionaresueringthesameproblemoF
risinglaborcosts.Whiletechnicalinnovationsmaycontinuetoreduce
the costs oF some inputs, and governments may continue to institute
andde6ndmonopolisticpositionsoFenterprisesprmittinghighersales
prices, itis nonetheless absolutelycrucialForcapitalists to continue to
havesome importantpartoFtheircosts paidby someoneelse.
This someone else is oFcourse either thestateor, F not the state
directly, then the"society. " Let us investigate howthis is arranged and
how the bill is paid. The arrangement fr states to pay costs can be
doneinoneoFtwoways.Thegovernmentscanaccepttherolefrmly,
which means subsidies oF some kind. However, subsidies are increas-
ngl yvisibleandincreasnglyunpopular.Theyaremetwithloudprotests
bycompetitorenterprisesandbysimilarprotestsbytaxpayers. Subsidies
pose political problems.Thereisanother, moreimportant,way, which
has beenpoliticallylessdFGcultForgovernments,becauseallitrequires
is nonaction. Throughout the historyoF historical capitalism,govern-
mentshavepermittedenterprisesnottointernalizemanyoFtheircosts,
byFailngtorequirethemtodoso.Theydothisinpartbyunderwriting
inhastructure and in part, probablyin larger part, bynotinsistingthat
aproductionoperationincludethecostofrestoringtheenvironmentin
such a waythatitis"preserved. "
There aretwo dilIerent kinds of operations inpreserving the en-
vironment. The 6 rst is the c|eaning up ofthe negative effects of a
production exercise ,for examp|e, combating chemica| toxins that are
a by-product ofproductionorremovingnonbiodegradab|ewaste) .The
secondis investmentin the renewa| ofthe natura| resources thathave
been used ,for example, replanting trees). Once again, the ecology
movements have put 6rward a long series of speci6c proposals that
would address these issues. !n general, these proposals meetwithcon-
siderableresistanceonthepartoftheenterprisesthatwouldbeaffected
bysuchproposals, onthegroundsthatthesemeasuresarefartoo costly
and would thereforelead to the curtailmentofproduction.
Thetruthisthattheenterprisesareessentiallyright.Thesemeasures
are indeed too costly, by andlarge, ifwe de6ne the issue interms of
maintainingthepresentaverageworldwiderateofpro6t.Theyaretoo
costlybyfar. Civenthe deruralization oftheworldandits alreadyse-
rious effect upontheaccumulation ofcapital, theimplementation of
signincant eco|ogica| measures, serious|y carried out, cou|d we|| serve
asthe coup degrce to theviabi|ityofthe capita|istwor|d-economy.
There6re,whateverthepub|icre|ationsstanceofindividuaIenterprises
onthesequestions,wecanexpectunremittingfot-draggingonthepart
of capita|ists in genera|. We are in fact Fced with three a|ternatives.
One, governmenrs can insist that a enterprises internalize a costs,
and we would be faced with an immediateacutepro6 ts squeeze. Or,
two, governments canpaythebiU6recologicalmeasures ,cleanup and
restoration plus prevention) and use taxes to pay fr this. But if one
increases taxes, one eitherincreasesthetaxes onthe enterprises,which
wouldleadtothesamepro5tssqueeze,orraises taxes oneveryoneelse,
whichwouldprobablyleadto anacutetaxrevolt.Or,three,we cando
virtuallynothing,whichwillleadtothevariousecologicalcatastrophes
ofwhich theecologymovementswarn. So far, thethirdalternative has
been carryingthe day. !n anycase, this is why ! saythatthereis "no
exit,"meaningbythatthatthereis noexitwithinthehameworkofthe
existing historica| system.
Ofcourse,ifgovernmentsremsethe6rsta|ternativeofrequiringthe
interna|izationofcosts, theycantrytobuytime.Thatis,infact, what
manyhave beendoing. One ofthemainwaystobuytime istotryto
shinrheproblemhomrhepolirically srrongerrorhebacks of rhe po-
lirically weaker, rhar is, hom rhe Norrhro rhe Sourh. Jhere are rwo
waysinrurnrodorhis. Oneisrodumprhewasre inrheSourh.While
rhis buys a lirrle rime fr rhe Norrh, ir doesn'r afhcr global cumula-
rion andirseffecrs. Jhe orherisrorryroimposeuponrhe counrries of
rhe Sourh aposrponemenrof "developmenr" by asking rhem ro accepr
severe consrrainrs on indusrrial producrion or rhe use of ecologicly
sounder bur more expensive frms of producrion. Jhis immediarely
raises rhe quesrion of who is paying rhe price of global resrrainrs and
wherherinanycaserheseparrialresrrainrswillwork. lf Chinawerero
agree,f orexample, roreducerheuseoffssilmels,wharwouldrhisdo
ro rhe prospecrs of China as an expanding parr of rhe world marker,
and rherefore rhe prospecrs fr capiralaccumularion?We keep coming
back ro rhe same issue.
Framly,iris probablyfrrunarerhardumpingonrheSourhprovides
infacrno real long-rerm solurionro rhe dilemmas. One mighr y rhar
such dumping has been parr of rhe procedure aU along, fr rhe pasr
6ve hundred years. urrhe expansion of rhe world-economy has been
sogrear, andrhe consequenr level of degradarionsosevere, rharweno
longerhaverhespaceroadjusrrhesiruarionsigni6canrlybyexporrngir
rorheperiphery.Wearerhusfrcedbackromndamenrals.lrisamarrer
of poliricaleconomy6rsrof all,andconsequenrlyamarrerofmoraland
polirical choice.
Jhe environmenral dilemmas we Fce roday are direcrly rhe resulr
of rhe facr rhar we live in a capiralisr world-economy.Whileall prior
hisrorical sysrems rransformed rhe ecology, and some prior hisrorical
sysremsevendesrroyedrhepossibiliryofmainrainingaviablebalancein
givenareas rhar wouldhave assured rhe survival of rhe locally exisring
hisroricalsysrem, only hisrorical capiralism, byrheFcrrharirhasbeen
rhe6 rsrsuchsysremroengloberheearrhandbyrhefacrrharirhasex-
pandedproducrion (and popuarion)ara previously unimaginable rare,
has rhrearenedrhe possibiliry of aviablemrureexisrencef ormankind.
lrhasdonerhisessenriaUybecausecapiralisrsinrhissysremsucceededin
renderingine0ecriverheabiliryofallorherfrcesroimposeconsrrainrs
onrheiracriviryinrhenameofvaluesorherrhanrharofrheendlessac-
cumularionofcapiral. lris precisely Promerheus unboundrharhasbeen
rhe problem.
urPromerheusunboundis norinherenrinhumansociery.Jhe un-
bounding, of which rhe defenders of rhe presenr sysrem boasr, was
ECOLOGY .AND CAPITALIST COSTS O PRODUCTION 83
itselF a diFGcult achievement, whose middle-term advantages are now
bing overwhelmedbyitslong-term disadvantages. Thepoliticalecon-
omyoF the current situation is that historical capitalism is in Fact in
crisispreciselybecauseitcannotGndreasonablesolutionstoits current
dilemmas, oFwhich theinability to contain ecological destruction is a
ma|or one, iF not the only one.
! draw om this analysis several conclusions. The 6rst is that re-
6rmistlegislation has built-in limits. !Fthemeasure oFsuccessis the
degree to which such legislation is likely to diminish considerably the
rate oFglobalenvironmental degradation in ythe nexttento twenty
years, ! would predict that this typ oFlegislationwillhaveverylittle
success.This isbecause the po|itica| opposition can be expected to be
Ferocious,giventhe impactoFsuch|egis|ation oncapita|accumu|ation.
!tdoesn't Fo||ow, however, that it is thereFore pointless topursue such
eFForts.Qitethe contrary, probab|y. Po|iticalpressureinFvoroFsuch
|egis|ationcanaddtothedi|emmasoFthecapita|istsystem.!tcancrys-
tallize therealpolitical issues thatareatstake, provided, however, that
these issues areposed correctly.
The entrepreneurs have argued essentially that the issue u one oF
|obs versus romanticism, or humans versus nature. To a large degree,
manyoFthoseconcernedwithecologicalissueshaveFallenintothetrap
by responding in two dierent ways, bth oF which are, in myview,
incorrect. The 6rstis to argue that "a stitch in time saves nine."Jhat
is to say, some persons havesuggested that, within theamework oF
the present system, it is 6rmallyrational6r governments to expend
x-amounts nowinorder notto spendgreater amountslater. Thisis a
lineoFargumentthatdoes makesensewithintheuameworkoFagiven
system. But! havejustargued that, homthepointoFviewoFcapita|ist
strata, such "stitchesintime," iFtheyaresuF6cientto stemthedamage,
are not at a|| rationa|, in that theythreatenin a fundamenta|waythe
possibi|ity oFcontinuingcapita|accumu|ation.
Thereis a second, quite dierent, argumentthatis made, onethat
! Gnd equa!IypoliticaLyimpractical. !tis the argumenton the virtues
oF nature and the evils oF science. This translates in practice into
the deFense oF some obscure funa oFwhom most people have never
heard, and about which most people are indierent, and therebyputs
the onus oF|ob destruction on a| middle-class urban intellectuals.
The issue becomes entirelydisplaceduom the underlying ones, which
are, and must remain, two.1he nrstis that capitalists are not paying
their bills. And the second is that the endless accumulation of cap
ital is a substantively irrational objective, and that there does exist a
basic alternative, which is to weigh various benefits (including those
of production) against each other in terms of collective substative
rationality.
There has been an unfrtunate tendency to make science the en
emy and technology the enemy, whereas it is in fact capitalism that is
the generic root of the problem. To be sure, capitalism has utilized the
splendors of unending technological advance as one of its justifications.
And it has endorsed a version of science -Newtonian, determinist sci
ence -as a cultura shroud, which permitted the political argument that
humans could indeed "conquer" nature, should indeed do so, and that
thereupon all negative efects of economic expansion would eventually
b countered by inevitable scientifc progress.
We know today that this vision of science and this version of science
are of limited universal applicability. This version of science is today
under fundamental chalenge fom within the community of natural sci
entists themselves, fom the now very large group who pursue what they
cal "complexity studies." The sciences of complexity are very diferent
fom Newtonian science in various important ways: the rejection of the
intrinsic possibility of predictability; the normaity of systems moving
far fom equilibrium, with their inevitable bifrcations; the centrality of
the arrow of time. But what is perhaps most relevant fr our present
discussion is the emphasis on the self-constituting creativity of natural
processes and the nondistinguishability of humans and nature, with a
consequent assertion that science is of course an integral part of culture.
Gone is the concept of rootless intellectual activity, aspiring to an un
derlying eternal truth. In its place we have the vision of a discoverable
world of reaity, but one whose discoveries of the fture cannot be made
now because the future is yet to be created. The fture is not inscribed
in the present, even if it is circumscribed by the past.
The political implication of such a view of science seems to me quite
clear. The present is aways a matter of choice, but as someone once said,
although we make our own history, we do not make it as we choose.
Still, we do make it. The present is a matter of choice, but the range
of choice is considerably expanded in the period immediately preceding
a bi
f
urcation, when the system is furthest fom equilibrium, because at
that point small inputs have large outputs (as opposed to moments of
near equilibrium, when large inputs have smal outputs).
Let us return therefore to the issue of ecology. I placed the issue
within the framework of the political economy of the world-system.
I explained that the source of ecological destruction was the necessity
of entrepreneurs to externalize costs and the lack of incentive therefore
to make ecologically sensitive decisions. I explained also, however, that
this problem is more serious than ever because of the systemic crisis
into which we have entered. For this systemic crisis has narrowed in
various ways the possibilities of capital accumulation, leaving as the one
major crutch readily available the externalization of costs. Hence, I have
argued it is less likely toay tha ever before in the history of this system
to obtain the serious assent of entrepreneurial strata to measures fighting
ecological -degradation.
All this can be translated into the language of complexity quite read
ily. We are in the period immediately preceding a bifurcation. The
present historical system is in fact in terminal crisis. The issue befre
us is what will replace it. This will be the central political debate of the
next twenty-fve to fty years. The issue of ecological degradation, but
not of course only this issue, is a central locus of this debate. I think
hat we all have to say is that the debate is about substantive ratio
nality and that we are struggling for a solution or for a system that is
substantively rational.
The concept of substantive rationality presumes that in all social de
cisions there are conficts between diferent values as well as between
different groups, of ten speaking in the name of opposing values. It pre
sumes that there is never any system that can realize fly these sets
of values simultaneously, even if we were to feel that each set of values
is meritorious. To be substantively rational is to make choices that will
provide an optimal mix. But what does optimal mean? In part, we could
defne it by using the old slogan of
.
Jeremy Bentham, the greatest good
for the greatest number. The problem is that this slogan, while it puts
us on the right track (the outcome), has many loose strings.
Who, for example, are the greatest number? The ecological issue
makes us very sensitive to this issue. For it is clear that, when we talk
of ecological degradation, we cannot limit the issue to a single country.
We cannot even limit it to the entire globe': There is also a generational
issue. On the one hand, what may be the greatest good for the present
generation may be very harmfl to the interests of fture generations.
On the other hand, the present generation also has its rights. We are al
ready in the midst of this debate concerning living persons: percentage
of total social expenditures on children, working adults, and the aged. If
we now add the unborn, it is not at all easy to arrive at a just allocation.
But this is precisely the kind of alternative social system we must aim
at building, one that debates, weighs, and collectively decides on such
fndamental issues. Production is important. We need to use trees as
wood and as fel, but we also need to use trees as shade and as aes
thetic beauty. And we need to continue to have trees available in the
fture for all thes uses. The traditional argument of entrepreneurs is
that such social decisions are best arrived at by the cumulation of indi
vidua decisions, on the grounds that there is no better mechanism by
which to arrive at a collective judgment. However plausible such a line
of reasoning may be, it does not justify a situation in which one per
son makes a decision that is profitable to him at the price of imposing
costs on others, without any possibility fr the others to intrude their
views, preferences, or interests into the decision. But this is what the
externalization of costs precisely does.
No exit? No exit within the famework of the exsting historical
system? But we are in the process of exit fom this system. The real
question before us is where we shall be going as a result. It is here and
now that we must raise the banner of substantive rationality, around
which we must raly. We need to be aware that once we accept the.
importance of going down the road of substantive rationality, this is
a long and arduous road. It involves not only a new social system, but
new structures of knowledge, in which philosophy and sciences will no
longer be divorced, and we shall return to the singular epistemology
within which knowledge was pursued everywhere prior to the creation
of the capitalist world-economy. If we start down this road, in terms
of both the social system in which we live and the structures of knowl
edge we us to interpret it, we need to b very aware that we are at a
beginning, and not at al at an end. Beginnings are uncertain and ad
venturous and diffcult, but they off er promise, which is the most we
cn ever expect.
Chuter 5
Liberalism and Democracy
FrresFnnem/s
Both liberalism and democracy have been sponge terms. Each has been
given multjple, ofen contradictory, definitions. Furthermore, the two
terms have had an ambiguous relationship to each other ever since the
first half of the nineteenth century when they frst began to be used in
modern political discourse. In some usages, they have seemed identical,
or at least have seemed to overlap heaviy. In other usages, they have
been considered virtually polar opposites. I shall argue that they have in
fct beenferes ennemis. They have been members in some sense of the
same family, but they have represented pushes in very diffrent direc
tions. And the sibling rivalry, so to speak, has been very intense. I wl
go frther. I would sy that working out today a reasonable relationship
between the two thrusts, or concepts, or values is an essential political
task, the prerequisite for resolving positively what I anticipate wil be
the very strong social conflicts of the twenty-frst century This is not a
question of definitions, but first and fremost one of social choices.
Both concepts represent responses, rather different responses, to the
modern world-system. The modern world-system is a capitalist world
economy. It is based on the priority of the ceaseless accumulation of
capital. Such a system is necessarily inegalitarian, indeed polarizing,
both economically and socially. At the same time, the very emphasis on
accumulation has one profundly equalizing effect. It puts into question
any status obtained or sustained on the basis of any other criteria, in
cluding all criteria that are acquired through fliation. This ideological
contradiction between hierarchy and equality that is built into the very
rationale fr capitalism has created dilemmas, from the beginning, for
all those who have privilege within this system.
Fourth Daalder Lecture, Rksuniversiteit Leiden, lnterfacultaire Vakgrop Politieke Wetenschap
pen, March 15, 1997.
87
88 LI BERALI SM AND DEMOCRACY
Let us look at this dilemma from the point of view of the quintessen
tial actor of the capitalist world-economy, the entrepreneur, sometimes
called the bourgeois. The entrepreneur seeks to accumulate capital. To
do this, he acts through the world market, but seldom exclusively by
m6OH o the market. Successfl entrepreneurs necessarily depend on the
aid of the state machinery's to help them create and retain relative sec
torial monopolies, which are the only source of truly substantial profits
i the market. 1
Once the entrepreneur has accumulated substantial amounts of cap
ital, he must worry about retaining it - against the vagaries of the
market to be sure, and also against the attempts of others to steal it,
confscate it, or tax it away. But his problems do not end there. He must
also worry about passing it on to heirs. This is not an economic ne
cessity, but rather a sociopsychological necessity, one however that has
serious economic consequences. The need to ensure that capital is be
queathed to heirs is an issue not primarily of taxation (which can be
treated as an issue of defending the market against the state) but of
the competency of heirs as entrepreneurs (which means that the mar
ket becomes the enemy of inheritance) . Over the long run, the only
way to ensure that incompetent heirs can inherit and retain capital is to
transform the source of renewal of capital from profts to rents.2 But
while this solves the sociopsychological need, it undermines the social
legitimacy of entrepreneurial accumulation, which is competency in the
market. And this in turn creates a continuing political dilemma.
Now, let us look at the same problem fom the point of view of the
working classes, those who are not in a position to accumulate capital
in any serious way. The development of the productive frces under
capitalism leads as we know to vastly increased industrialization, ur
banization, and geographical concentration of wealth and higher-wage
employment. We are not concerned here with why this is so or how it
occurs, but merely with its political consequences. Over time, and espe
cialy in the core or "more developed" countries, this process leads to a
reconfguration of the state-level stratification pattern, with increasing
percentages of middle strata and higher-waged employees, and there
fre to the increasing political strength of such persons. The primary
geocultural consequence of the French Revolution and its Napoleonic
afermath was to legitimate the political demands of such persons via
the argument that national sovereignty resided in the "people." While
popular sovereignty was possibly compatible with the hypothetical egal-
LIBERALISM AND DEMOCRACY 89
itarianism of market accumulation, it was absolutely at odds with any
and al attempts to create rentier sources of income.
Reconciling the ideology of market legitimacy with the socio
psychological need to create rentier income has always been a matter
of fst talk for the entrepreneurs. The contradictory language of liberals
is one of the results. It is this attempt to juggle the language that set
the stage fr the ambiguous relationship during the last two centuries
of "liberalism" and "democracy." At the time that liberalism and democ
racy first began to be political terms in common usage, in the first haf
of the nineteenth century, it was the case that the basic political cleavage
was between conservative and liberals, the party of order and the party
of movement. Conservatives were those fndamentaly opposed to the
French Revolution in all its guises - Girondin, Jacobin, Napoleonic.
Liberals were those who saw the French Revolution as something pos
itive, at the minimum in its Girondin version, which was blieved to
represent something akin to the English evolution of parliamentary
government. This positive view of the French Revolution, cautious at
first in 1815 in the wake of the Napoleonic defeat, became bolder as
.
the years went by.
m the years between 1815 and 1848, in addition to the conserya
tive and the liberals, there were persons sometimes called democrats,
quite of ten republicans, sometimes radicals, even occasionaly socialists.
These persons represented, however, not much more than a small left
appendage of the liberals, sometimes playing the role of its ginger ele
ment, more often seen as an embarrassment by the mainline contingent
.
of liberals. It is only later that this lef appendage emerged as a full
fledged independent ideological thrust, at this later point usualy under
the label of socialists. Afer 1848, the ideological horizon became sta
bilized; we had arrived at the trinity of ideologies that have famed the
political life of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries: conservatism,
liberalism, and socialism/radicalism (otherwise known as right, center,
and lef). I shall not repeat here my argument about how and why liber
alism afer 1848 gained the upper hand over its rivals as an ideological
construct, creating a consensus around it that became consecrated as the
geoculture of the modern world-system and transforming both conser
vatism and socialism in the process into avatars of libralism. Nor shall
I repeat the argument that this consensus held firm until 1968, when
it was once again called into question, allowing both conservatism and
radicalism to reemerge as distinctive ideologies.3
90 LI BERALISM AND DEMOCRACY
What is crucial, I think, for the purposes of this discussion is to
understand that, ater 1848, the central concern of librals ceased be
ing to argue against the Ancien Regime. Rather, their central concern
came to be at the other end of the political spectrum: how to counter
the growing demand fr democracy. The revolutions of 1848 showed,
for the first time, the potential strength of a militant left frce, the be
ginnings of a real social movement in the core zones and of national
liberation movements in the more peripheral zones. The strength of
this upsurge was frightening to the centrist liberals, and even though
the revolutions of 1848 al petered out or were suppressed, liberals were
determined to reduce the volubility of what they saw as the too radical,
antisystemic demands of the dangerous classes.
Their countereforts came in three frms. First, they put frward
over the next half-entury a program of "concessions" that they thought
would satisfy these demands sufficiently to calm the situation but in
such a way that the concessions would not threaten the basic structure
of the system. Second, they quite openly replaced the de facto polit
ical coaition with the left (which they had pursued in the 1815-48
period, when the left seemed tiny and they thought their primary op
ponent was the conservatives) with a priority to political coalition on
the right, whenever and wherever the left seemed threatening. Third,
they developed a discourse that subtly distinguished liberalism fom
democracy.
The program of concessions - the suffage, the beginnings of a
welfare state, an integrative racist nationalism -was magnificently suc
cessful in the European/North American world and laid the basis for the
ability of the capitalist system to surmount all its storms, at least until
the last twenty years or so. The second measure, the political coalition
with the right, turned out to be all the easier to achieve in that the right
had drawn a similar conclusion as a consequence of 1848. "Enlight
ened conservatism" became the dominant version of right politics, and,
since it was essentialy an avatar of liberalism, there was no longer a real
obstacle to a frm of parliamentary life that involved the regular shif
of frmal power between parties whose real politics revolved around a
centrist consensus, never swinging too far in either direction.
It is the third tactic, the discourse, that created some problems. This
was because liberals wanted to have it both ways. They wanted to dis
tinguish liberalism fom democracy, but they wished at the same time
to appropriate the theme of democracy, indeed the very term of democ-
racy, as an integrative frce. It is on the discourse and its problems that
I wish to concentrate this discussion.
Liberalism, as is of ten noted, starts its analysis fom the individual,
whom it takes to be the primary subject of social action. The liberal
metaphor is that the world consists of a multitude of independent indi
viduals who have somehow, at some time, entered into an accord (social
contract) to establish common ties fr the common good. They have
also pictured this accord as a quite limited accord. The source of this
emphasis is obvous. Liberalism had its origins in the attempt to remove
those persons whom liberals defined as "competent" from the arbitrary
control of institutions (the church, the monarchies, and the aristoc
racy, and therefore the state) that they saw as being essentialy in the
hands of 1ess competent persons. The concept of a limited social con
tract provided exactly the rationale fr such a putative liberation of the
competent.
This explains of course such traditional slogans identified with the
French Revolution as "la carriere ouverte aux talents." The combination
of the word "open" and the word "talent" gave the essential message.
This quite precise language however soon slid into the vaguer, more fluid
language of the "sovereignt
y
of the people." The problem with this latter
phrase, which was widely legitimated in the wake of the French Revo
lution, is that the "people" are a group far more difficult to bound than
the "talented people." Taented people constitute a measurable group
with logical boundaries. All we need to do is decide on some indicators
of talent, no matter whether they are plausible or spurious, and we can
.
identify who these persons are. But who constitute the "people" is not
relly a matter of measurement at all, but a matter of public, collective
definition; that is, it u a politica decision, and acknowledged as such.
Of course, if we were ready simply to define the "people" as truly
everyone, there would b no problem. But the "people" as a political
concept is primarily used to refer to rights within a state, and there
upon it becomes contentious. What is obvious is that virually no one
was, or is, prepared to say that the "people" is everyone, that is, that
truly everyone should have full political rights. There are some widely
agreed-upon exclusions: not children, not the insane, not criminals, not
freign visitors -al these exceptions being considered more or less ob
vious to almost everyone. But then to add to this list other categories of
exceptions -not migrants, not the propertyless, not the poor, not the
ignorant, not women -seemed to many just obvious, especialy to
92 LI BERALI SM AND DEMOCRACY
those who were not themselves migrants, propertyless, por, ignorant,
or women. Who the "people" are constitutes to this day a continuing
and major source of political controversy, everywhere.
For the last two hundred years, throughout the world, those who have
no rights, or less rights than others, have been constantly knocking at
the door, pushing and shoving the door open, always asking fr more.
Let some in, and others have been coming right behind them request
ing entry as well. Faced with this political reality, which is evident to
everyone, the responses have been varied. In particular, the tonalities of
the responses associated with liberalism and with democracy have been
quite diferent, almost opposite.
Liberals have tended to seek to constrain the fow. Democrats have
tended to applaud it and to push it. Liberals have asserted a primary
concern with process; bad process leads to bad outcome. Democrats
have asserted a primary concern with outcome; bad outcome indicates
bad process. Liberals pointed to the past and stressed how much had
been achieved. Democrats looked to the future and talked of how much
was yet to be flflled. Cup half full? Cup half empty? Perhaps, but
perhaps also a diference in objective.
The mantra of liberals is rationality. Liberals are the most loyal
scions of the Enlightenment. They believe in the potential rationality
of all persons, a rationality that is achieved, not ascribed, and achieved
through education, Bi/dug. What education can create is not, how
ever, merely intelligent citizens endowed with civic virtue. Liberals in
the modern world have been well aware that the town meeting model
of democracy, derived from the Greek city-state, is unmanageable in the
physically large entities that are modern states, which are furthermore
required to decide upon a wide range of complex matters. Liberals share
the metaphor of Newtonian science: that complexity is best handled by
reducing it to smaller parts, by diferentiation and specialization. It fol
lows that, in order to perfrm their role as intelligent citizens endowed
with civic virtue, individuals have need of expert counsel to guide them,
to delimit the alternatives, and to suggest criteria by which to judge
political alternatives.
If rationality, to be exercised, requires expertise, it also then requires
the civic culture of giving the specialists pride of place. The modern ed
ucational system, whether in its humanistic or scientifc frm, has been
intended to socialize citizens into accepting the edicts of experts. This is
the nexus around which athe debates about sufrage and other frms
LI BERALISM AND DEMOCRACY 93
of political participation has revolved: who has the necessary expertise,
who has the cultural fame of mind to allow themselves to be infrmed
by these experts. In short, although all persons are potentially rational,
not all persons are actually rational. Liberalism is the call to accord rights
to the rational in order that the irrational not b those who make crucial
social decisions. And if, under pressure, one is obliged politically to ac
cord frmal rights to the many who are not yet rational, it then becomes
essential that the frmal rights be circumscribed in such a way that no
hasty folishness occur. This is the source of the concern with process.
What is meant by process is slowing down decisions long enough and
in such a way that experts have an excellent chance of prevailing.
Exclusions of the irrational are aways effectuated in the present. It
is, however, aways promised that the excluded will be included in the
future, once they have learned, once they have passed the tests, once they
have become rational in the same way as those presentl inclued While
unfunded discrimination is anathema to the liberal, the liberal sees a
world of diference between unfounded and funded discrimination.
The discourse of the liberal hence tends to be farfl of the majority,
farful of the unwashed and unknowing, of the mass. The discourse of
the liberal no doubt is always ful of praise for the potential integration
of the excluded, but it is
i
lways a controlled integration of which the
libral is speaking, an integration into the values and structures of those
who are already included. Against the majority, the lbral is constantly
defending the minority. But it is not the group minority that the lib
eral defnds, but the symbolic minority, the heroic rational individual
against the crowd -that is, himself.
This heroic individual is both competent and civiized. The concept
of the competent is not in tcvery diffrent fom the concept of the
civiized. Those who are civilized are those who have learned how to
adjust themselves to the social neds of the civis, how to be both civil
and civic, how to enter into a social contract and b responsible fr the
obligations that thereupon are incumbent upn them. It is aways we
who are civilized and they who are not. The concept is almost necessar
ily a universalist one, in the sense that the values involved are asserted to
hold universaly, but it is also a developmentalist one. One learns to be
civilized; one is not born civilized. And individuals, groups, and nations
can become civilized. Competence is a more instrumentalist notion. It
refers to the abilty to fnction socially, especially in work. It is linked
to the idea of a metier a profession. It is the result of education, but of
94 LIBERALISM AND DEMOCRACY
more frmal education than is the case fr cviliztion, which is first ad
fremost a matter of childhood socialization within the family. Still, it
is always assumed that there is a high correlation between the two, that
those who are competent are aso cvlized and vice versa. A dis |unction
is surprising and anomalous and most of all disturbing. Liberalism is
as much as anything a code of manners. That such definitions, how
ever frmally abstract, are always class-based or class-biased seems to
me obvious.
The minute however we invoke cvilization and competence, it is
clear in any case that we are not speaking of everyone - not of all
individuals, of all groups, of all nations. "Civilized" and "competent"
are inherently comparative concepts, which describe a hierarchy of per
sons: some are more so than others. At the same time, they are universal
concepts: everyone can become so in theory, eventually. Indeed, the
universalism is closely related to the other inherent connotation of lib
eralism: paternalism toward the weak, the uncivilzed, the incompetent.
Liberalism implies a social duty to improve the others, by individual ef
frts to be sure, but most of all by collective efrts of the society and
of the state. It is therefore perpetualy the call fr more education, more
Bi/dung, more social refrm.
The very term "liberal" has built into it not only the political mean
ing but the usage of largesse, of noblesse oblige. Powerful individuals
can be liberal in their distribution of material and social vaues. And
here we see quite openly the link with the concept of aristocracy, to
which liberalism purports to b opposed. In reality, what librals have
opposed is not the concept of aristocracy per se, but the idea that aris
tocrats are persons defined by certain external signs of status, derived
fom past achievements of an ancestor, of titles that accord privileges.
In his theorizing, the liberal is in that sense extremely present-oriented.
It is the achievement of the current individual with which the lib
eral is concerned, at least theoreticaly. The aristocrats, the best, are
realy, can only realy be, those who have proved in the present that
they are the most competent. This is expressed in the twentieth
century usage of "meritocracy" as the defining legitimation of social
hierarchy.
Meritocracy, unlike nobility, u presented as an egalitarian concept
because frmaly it can be made open to everyone to take the tests that
accord or define merit. One presumably does not inherit merit. But of
course one inherits the advantages that improve considerably the pos-
sibility for a child to acquire the skills that are tested. And this being
the fact, the results are never really egalitarian, which is the recurrent
complaint of those who do poorly in the formal testing, and the alloca
tion of position and status that is its consequence. These then are the
complaints both of the democrats and of the "minorities," meaning by
"minority" here any group (whatever its size) that has been persistently
and historically treated as a socially inferior group and that presently
at the lower end of the social hierarchy.
The competent def end their advantage on the basis of frmal rules
that are universalst. They therefore def end the importance of frmal
rules in political controversy. They are by nature farful of anything
that can be caled or considered "extreme. " But what is "extreme" in
modern politics? It is anything and everything that can be labeled "pop
ulist. " Populism is the appeal to the people in terms of the outcome: the
outcome in legislation; the outcome in social distribution of roles; the
outcome in wealth. The liberal center has been fr the most part viscer
aly antipopulist, although on rare occasions, when the threat of fscism
was on the horizon, it has accepted for brief periods the legitimacy of
popular demonstrations.
Populism has normally been a game of the left. At one level, the
political left has been traditionally populist, or at the very least has tra
ditionally pretended to be populist. It is the left that has spoken in the
name of the people, of the majority, of the weaker and the excluded. It
is the political left that has sought repeatedly to mobilize popular sen
timent and to utilize this mobilization as a frm of political pressure.
And when this popular pressure emerged spontaneously, the leader
ship of the political lef has usually run to catch up with it. Democrats
have given priority to including the excluded, in specifc opposition to
the liberal notion that the good society is one in which the competent
prevail.
There hast also been right-wing populism. However, ppulism as
played by the left and by the right are not quite the same game. Right
wing populism has never been truly populist, since it is right-wig, and
what characterizes the right conceptually is that it puts no faith in the
people except as fllowers. Right-wing populism has in practice com
bined hostility to experts with some social welfare concerns but always
on the basis of great exclusionism, that is, limiting these benefits to an
ethnica y delimited group and often defning the experts as members of
the out-group. Right-wing populism is therefore not democratic at all
96 LI BERALISM AND DEMOCRACY
in the sense that we are using the term, as a concept that give priority
to including the excluded.
What we have meant by democracy is in fact quite opposed to right
wing populism, but it is also quite opposed to what we have meant
by liberalism. Democracy precisely implies suspicion of the experts, of
the competent -of their obj ectivity, of their disinterestedness, of their
civic virtue. The democrats have seen in liberal discourse the mask for a
new aristocracy, all the more prnicious in that it has claimed a univer
salist basis that somehow tended always to result in maintaining largely
the existing patterns of hierarchy. Liberalism and democracy have thus
been very much at odds with each other, standing fr deeply diverging
tendencies.
This is sometimes openly admitted. We find it in the discourse con
cerning the fmous slogan of the French Revolution, about which it is
often said that liberals give priority to liberty, meaning individual lib
erty, and that democrats (or socialists) give priority to equality. This, it
seems to me, is a deeply misleading way to explain the difference. Lib
erals do not merely give priority to liberty; they are opposed to equality,
because they are strongly opposed to any concept measured by out
come, which is the only way the concept equality is meaningfl. Insofar
as liberalism is the defense of rational government, based on the in
frmed judgment of the most competent, equality appears as a leveling,
anti-intellectuai and inevitably extremist concept.
However, it is not true that democrats are in a parallel manner
opposed to liberty. Far fom it! What democrats have refsed is the
distinction between the two. On the one hand, democrats have tradi
tionally argued that there can be no liberty except within a system based
on equaity, since unequal persons cannot have equal ability to partici
pate in collective decisions. They have also argued that unfree persons
cannot be equal, since this implies a political hierarchy that thereby
translates itself into social inequality. This has recently been given the
conceptual labl of egaliberty (or equaliberty) as a singular process.4 On
the other hand, it is true today that few on the self-proclaimed left have
been ready to make egaiberty their theme of popular mobilization, out
of the very sme fear that has made librals insist on process and compe
tence: fear that the people, given fll rein, will act irrationally, meaning
in a fscist or racist fshion. What we can say is that the popular de
mand fr democracy has been constant, whatever the frmal position of
left parties. Indeed, over the long run, left parties that have refsed to
embrace egaliberty have fund that their popular base of support has
eroded, and found that their erstwhile base came to classify them fr
this reason as "liberals" rather than as "democrats."
The tension between liberalism and democracy is not an abstract issue.
It returns to us constantly as a set of political dilemmas and politi
cal choices. The world-system was engulfed by this tension and these
dilemmas between the two world wars, with the rise of fscist move
ments in a large number of countries. We can remember the hesitations
and indecision that were the mark of both centrist and left politics in
this era. These hesitations have become visible and acute once again
in the 1990s with the rise of multiple destructive racisms masking
as nationalisms and the attempts, within the Western world, to build
new exclusionary politics on the basis of anti-immigrant, antioutsider
rhetoric.
At the same time, there is a second, quite diferent issue that emerged
in the post-1968 era with the great upsurge of movements of the ex
cluded, who were framing their demands for political rights in terms
of group rights. This has taken the frm of calls for "multiculturalism."
Originaly an issue primarily in the United States, it has now come to be
discussed in most of the other countries with long-standing pretensions
to being liberal states. This issue is ofen confounded with the issue of
opposition to what the French call the lepinisation of society, but it is
not the identical issue.
The relationship of the feres ennemis is thus once again today very
much at the center of debates about political tactics. I don't think we
are going to make any signifcant progress on this issue, unless we can
cut through the rhetoric.
Let us start with some contemporary realities. I think there are fur
elements in the post-1989 situation that are basic, in the sense that
they frm the parameters within which political decisions are neces
sarily being made. The first is the profound disillusionment, worldwide,
with the historic Old Lef, in which I group not only the Commu
nist parties, but the social-democratic parties and the national libration
movements well. The second is the massive ofensive to deregulate
constraints on the movement of capital and commodities and to dis
mantle simultaneously the welfare state. This ofensive is sometimes
called "neoliberalism." The third is the constantly increasing economic,
social, and demographic polarization of the world-system, which the
neoliberal ofensive promises to fuel further. The furth is the fact that,
despite all of this or perhaps because of al of this, the demand fr de
mocracy-fr democracy, not liberalism -is stronger than it has been
at any time in the history of the modern world-system.
The first reality, the disillusionment with the Old Left, is primar
ily, in my view, the result of the fact that, over time, the Old Lef
abandoned the struggle fr democracy and advanced in fact a liberal
program, in the very simple sense that they built their programs around
the crucial role of the competent people. To be sure, they defined who
was competent somewhat diferently fom centrist political parties, at
least theoretically. However, in practice, it is not sure that they recruited
their competent people fom social backgrounds very different fom
those privileged in libral discourse. In any case, the relity turned out
to be insufficiently diferent for their mass base, and this base has been
abandoning them as a result.5
The neoliberal ofensive has been made possible by this widespread
popular disillusionment with the Old Left. It has garbed itself with an
essentially false rhetoric about globalization. The rhetoric is fase in that
the economic reality is not at all new (certainly the pressure on capitalist
frms to be competitive in the world market is not new), but this alleged
newness has been used as the justification fr abandoning the historic
liberal concession of the welfare state. It is precisely for this reason that
neoliberalism cannot be considered in fact a new version of liberalism.
It has adopted the name, but it is in fact a version of conservatism, and
conservatism is, after a , diferent fom liberalism. Historic liberalism
has not been able to survive the collapse of the Old Lef, which, far
from being its mortal enemy, wa it most important social underpin
ning, in that the Old Lef had for a long time been playing the crucial
role of containing the democratic pressures of the dangerous classes by
purveying the hope (and the illusion) of inevitable progress. To be sure,
the Old Lef argued that this would be in large part via its own effrts,
but this argument in efect endorsed policies and practices that were
merely a variant on the incrementalist liberal theme.
What brought the Old Lef down was the demonstration that it had
not been able in reality to stanch the polarization of the world-system,
especially at the world level. The neoliberal ofensive has taken advan
tage of this to argue that its program would be able to do this. This is
an incredible claim because, in point of fact, its program has been ac
centuating with striking rapidity the economic, social, and demographic
polarization of the world-system. Furthermore, this recent offensive has
actually renewed the process of polarization internal to the wealthier
states, a process that the welfare state had been able to hold at bay for
a relatively long time, and most notably in the period 1945-70. The
correlate of increased polarization has been the increased immigration
fom South (including the old so-called East) to North, despite the ever
strengthened legislative and administrative barriers to legal migration.
Perhaps most importantly, the strength of democratic sentiment is
greater than ever, probably more because of all of this than despite all
of this. This strength can b observed in thre specifc demands, which
can b seen operating across the globe: more education faciities, more
health facilities, and a higher income base. Furthermore, what is consid
ered the minimum acceptable threshold has been constantly increasing,
never receding. This is of course deeply at odds with the program of
dismantling the welfare state, and it therefore raises the potential fr
acute social conflict -on the one hand, in the frm of relatively spon
taneous worker mobilization (as has occurred in France, for example) or,
on the other hand, and more violently, in the frm of civil uprising (as
has occurred in Albania, following the acute loss of income base in the
wake of the Ponzi scheme scandal) .
Whereas, from 1848 to 1968, we lived i n a geoculture that was based
on the liberal consensus, and the liberals were therefore able to appro
priate the term "democracy" and vitiate the effcacy of its proponents,
we have now entered the world of Yeats -"the center cannot hold."
The issue befre us is more polarized: either egaliberty or neither lib
erty nor equality; either a true effrt to be inclusive of everyone or
a retreat into a deeply partitioned world, a kind of global apartheid
system. The strength of liberalism fom 1848 to 1968 had frced the
democrats to choose between accepting largely liberal premises or being
condemned to political irrelevance. They opted fr the former, which
describes the historical traj ectory of the Old Left. Today, however, it is
for the surviving liberals to choose: either accepting largely democratic
premises or being condemned to political irrelevance. We can see this
by examining more closely the two great debates today between liberals
and democrats: multiculturalism and lepenisation.
What are the issues in the multiculturalism debate? Groups that
have been signifcantly excluded, both at national and at world levels,
fom political participation, economic reward, social recognition, and
cultural legitimacy-most notably women and persons of color, but of
course many other groups as well -have put frward demands in three
diferent fshions: (1) They have quantifed historic outcomes and said
that the fgures are disgracefl. (2)They have looked at the objects of
study and of esteem, and the presumed "subjects of history," and said
that the choices up to now have been deeply biased. (3) They have
wondered whether the standards of objectivity that have been used to
justify these realities are not themselves a false barometer and a leading
generator of the realities.
The liberal response to these demands has been that demands fr
outcomes are demands fr quotas, which in tur can only lead to per
vasive mediocrity and new hierarchies. They have asserted that esteem
and historic relevance are not decreed but deduced fom objective cri
teria. They have said that tampering with the standards of objectivity
is the slippery slope to tota subjectivity and thereby total social irra
tionaity. These are weak arguments, but they are not arguments that
do not point to real problems with multiculturaism in its vaguer, less
self-aware frmulations.
The problem with all multicultural claims is that they are not self
limiting. First, the number of groups is not self-limiting, and indeed
they are infnitely expansible. Second, the claims lead to unresolvable
disputes abut hierarchies of historic injustice. Third, even if adjust
ments are made in one generation, there is no assurance that they will
last into the next. Should then readjustments b made every x-number
of years? Fourth, the claims give no clue as to how to allocate scarce
resources, especialy nondivisible resources. Fifth, there is no guaran
tee that multicultural allocation will in the end be egalitarian, since the
claims can in fct simply result in designating new criteria fr member
ship in the group of competent persons who will receive privilege.
This being said, it is hard not to see how self-serving such anti
multiculturalist arguments are in the deeply inegalitarian world in
which we presently live. Despite the hype and the howls of anti-PC
publicists, we are far fom living in a world alredy dominated by mul
ticultural realities. We are barely beginning to make a small dent in
historic unfairesses. Blacks, women, and many others are still get
ting the short end of the stick, by and large, whatever the marginal
improvements here and there. It is certainly far too soon to cal for a
swing back of the pendulum.
What is rely more to the point is to begin a serious investigation
of how we can build structures and processes that will constantly move
LI BERALI SM AND DEMOCRACY 101
us in the right direction, without ending us up in the culs-de-sac that
the liberals correctly fear might result from doing this. It is clearly the
moment for liberals, as a dying breed with however strong intellectual
traditions, to use their cleverness as part of the team, instead of carping,
or denouncing, fom the sidelines. To take a simple example, would it
not really have been more usefl for someone like Alan Sokal to enter
into cooperative discussion with those who have been raising real ques
tions about the structures of knowledge, instead of deflating folish
excesses, and thereby making the discussion of the underlying issues
more, rather than less, difficult?
The thing to bar in mind is the problem: the problem is exclusion,
and the fact that this problem has not at all been resolved by the so
called advance of the modern world-system. If anything, it is worse
today than ever. And democrats are those who put priority on fight
ing exclusion. If inclusion is diffi cult, exclusion is immoral. And liberals
who seek the good society, who seek the realization of a rational world,
must bear in mind Max Weber's distinction between formal and sub
stantive rationality. Formal rationality is problem-solving but lacks a
.
soul, and is therefore ultimately self-destructive. Substantive rational
ity is extraordinarily difficult to defne, lends itself to much arbitrary
distortion, but is ultimately what the god society is all about.
Multiculturalism is an issue that will not go away, as long as we are in
an inegalitarian world, which is as long as we are in a capitalist world
economy. I think that this will be far less long than many others do,
but, even in my view, it will take another ffty years or so befre our
present historical system has entirely collapsed.6 The issue during these
fifty years is precisely what kind of a historical system we shall build
to replace the present one. And here is where the issue of lepinisaton
comes in, fr a world in which racist, exclusionary movements gain an
increasing role and are able to set. the agenda fr public political debate
is a world that is likely to end up with an even worse structure than our
present one, fom the point of view of maximizing egaliberty.
Let us take the concrete case of the Front National (FN) in France.
This is a movement that is against both competence and inclusion.
It therefore violates the principles and Qbj ectives of both liberals and
democrats. The question is what to do about it. Its strength derives fom
a difuse axiety among persons of relatively little power, but across
diferent class positions, about their personal security, physical and ma
terial. These persons have a realistic basis for their fars. What the FN
1 02 LIBERALISM AND DEMOCRACY
offers, as do al such movements, is three things: a promise of more
physical security via a repressive state; a promise of more material secu
rity through a vague program combining neoliberalism and the welfare
state; and, most of al, a visible scapegoat explanation for the difficulties
people are experiencing. In the case of the FN, the scapegoat is first of
al "migrants," a term used to mean al non-West Europeans (who are
al defined as non-Whites), adding to the potion an argument abut the
proper role of women. The second scapegoat, carefuly intruded fom
time to time, but less overtly to evade French antiracist laws, is clever
and wealthy Jews, cosmopolitan intellectuas, and the existing political
elites. In short, the scapegoats are the excluded and the competent.
For a long time, the response to the FN has been evasive. Conser
vatives have sought to recoup FN voters by adopting a watered-down
version of the exclusionary theme. Centrist liberals, whether in the
RPR, UDF, or the Socialist Pary, initialy tried to ignore the FN, in
the hope that it would somehow go away, if ignored. Antiexclusionist
mobilization was left to a handfl of movements (like SOS-Racisme)
and some intellectuals, as well of course to members of the communities
under attack. When, in 1997, the FN for the first time won an outright
majority in a local election at Vitrolles, the panic button was pushed,
and a national mobilization occurred. The government, split between
its true conservatives and its centrist liberals, retreated on one egregious
clause in proposed antimigrant legislation and maintained the rest. In
short, the policy of seeking to recoup FN voters largely prevailed.
What has been the program of the democrats? Basically, it has been
to argue that all persons alredy in France should one way or another be
"integrated" into French society by according them rights, and to op
pose all repressive legislation. But the crucial subtext is that this applies
only to all persons aready in France, as well as perhaps to bona fide
refgees. No one has dared to suggest that al limitation of individual
movement across fontiers be eliminated, although, indeed, such lack of
limitation is aready in practice among the countries of the North ad
was historically in practice in most of the world until the twentieth cen
tury. The reason for such reticence, of course, is that even the French
democrats fear that taking such a position would strengthen the hold of
the FN on members of the working class.
If I pose, however, this "extreme" possibility, it is precisely because it
illuminates the issue. If the issue is exclusion, why should the struggle
against exclusion only b within state frontiers ad not throughout the
LI BERALI SM AND DEMOCRACY 1 03
world? If the issue is competence, why should competence be defined
within state frontiers and not throughout the world? And if we take the
conservative, so-called neoliberal, perspective of the virtues of deregu
lation, then why shouldn't the movements of people also be subj ect to
deregulation? Neither in France, nor elsewhere, is it likely that racist, ex
clusionary movements will be checked if the issues are not posed clearly
and up font.
Let us return to the relationship of liberals and democrats. The one,
I have said, has put frward the defense of competence. The other, I
have said, has put frward the urgent priority of combating exclusion.
It would be easy to say, Why not do both? But it is not easy to give equal
emphasis to both. Competence, almost by definition, involves exclusion.
If there is competence, then there is incompetence. Inclusion involves
equal weight to everyone's participation. At the level of government and
all political decision making, the two themes come, almost inevitably,
into confict. The feres become ennemis.
The liberals have had their day in the sun. Today, we are threatened
by the return of those who want neither competence nor inclusion, in
short the worst of all worlds. If we are to build a barrier to their rise, and
to construct a new historical system, it can only be on the basis of inclu
sion. It is time fr the liberals to defer to the democrats. If they do this,
they can still play a salutary role. The liberals can continue to remind
democrats of the risks of folish and hasty majorities, but they can only
do so within the context of the recognition of the fndamental prior
ity of the majority in collective decisions. The liberals can of course,
in addition, constantly call fr eliminating from the realm of collective
decisions m those matters that should be best left to individual choice
and variation, and they are legion. This kind of libertarianism would be
very salutary in a democratic world. And of course, in placing inclusion
before competence, we are taking primarily of the political arena. We
are not suggesting that competence is irrelevant in the workplace or in
the world of knowledge.
There is an old joke about the relationship of the wealthy person to
the intellectual. It goes this way. The wealthy person says to the in
tellectual: If you're so smart, why aren't you rich? Answer: If you're so
rich, why aren't you smart? Let us vary this joke slightly. The liberal
says to the democrat: If you represent the maj ority, why don't you gov
er competently? Answer: If you're b competent, why can't you get the
majority to agree with your proposals?
Chuper
Integration to Wat?
Marginalization from Wat?
Both "integration" and "marginalization'' are words that are currently
widely used in public discussion of contemporary social structures. They
are concepts central to the social science enterprise as well, insofr as
both refer implicitly to the concept of "society. " The problem with
the discussion within social science is that, athough the concept of
society is basic to our analyses, it is at the same time an extraordinar
ily vague term, and this confses the discussion about integration and
marginalization.
The concept of society is, I suppose, millennial, in the sense that it
has probably been true for at least ten thousand yers, if not longer,
that humans have been aware of two things abut the world in which
they live. They interact on a regular asis with others, usually persons
located in propinquity. And this "group" has rules of which they all take
account, and which in fact fshion in many ways their consciousness
of the world. The membership of such groups, however, is always less
than the totality of human beings on the earth, and hence the members
aways distinguish between "we" and "the others."
The classic myths that humans have tended to create abut their
own "societies" is that the gods somehow created their particular one,
usualy created it especially, in some remote era, and that the current
members are descended fom this fvored original group. Aside fom
the self-serving character of such myths, they also imply consanguineal
continuity.
Of course, we know that consanguineal continuity is quite literally
a myth, in the sense that no group has ever operated this way per
fetly. And we know that this is particularly true of the modern world.
Keynote address at the nineteenth Nordic Sociology Congress, entitled "Integration and Margin
aization," June 13-15, Copenhagen.
1 04
INTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGINALIZATION FROM WHAT? 1 05
Hence, since persons fom outside the groups are constantly seeking to
enter them or are being pulled into them in one way or another, we talk
of integration. And since other people are constantly seeking to with
draw fom the groups or are being pushed out of them, we speak of
marginalization.
The basic intellectual problem is that the modern world-system has
created considerable confsion about what we can identify as our "so
ciety" and therefore about what we can mean by integration into and
marginalization fom such societies. It is quite clear that, in practice,
we have been using the word "society" fr at least two centuries now
to mean the group that is located within the boundaries of a sovereign
state, or sometimes what we think ought to be the boundaries of some
sovereign state, existing or to be created. Now, whatever is the ancestry
of such state-bounded groups, they bear little resemblance to continuing
consanguineal groups.
Indeed, one of the principles of most sovereign states in the last two
centuries has been that they are composed of "citizens," of demos and not
of ethnos, and therefore represent a category that is more juridical than
cultural in character. Furthermore, the category "citizens" is not at a
self-evident in its geographical contours; that is, it is not perfectly con
gruent with persons resident at any particular point of time in a given
sovereign state. Some inside the state are not citizens, and some outside
the state are. In addition, while states have quite varying rules about
the acquisition (and loss) of citizenship, they all have some rules, as
well as rules governing the entry of noncitizens into their territory (im
migration) and the legal rights of resident noncitizens. Furthermore,
migration (inward and outward) is not an exceptional phenomenon
in the modern world-system, but rather a continuing (and relatively
massive) phenomenon.
Let us begin at the beginning. The modern world-system was con
structed during the long sixteenth century, and its original geographical
bounds included a large part of the Europan continent and parts of the
Americas. Within this geographic zone, an axial division of labr grew
up that took the frm of a capitalist world-economy. An institutional
famework to sustain this kind of historical system grew up alongside it.
One such institutional element, a quite essential one, was the creation
of so-called sovereign states, which were located within an interstate
system. Of course, this was a process and not an event. Historians
describe this process when they discuss state-building within Europe
1 06 INTEGRATI ON WHAT? MARGI NALI ZATI ON FROM WHAT?
beginning with the New Monarchies of the late ffeenth century, the
rise of diplomacy and its rules beginning with the Italian city-states in
the Renaissance, the establishment of colonial regimes in the Americas
and elsewhere, the collapse of the Hapsburg world-empire in 1557, and
the Thirty Years' War culminating in the Treaty of Westphalia with its
new fundations fr state integration and interstate order.
This process of state-construction was not, however, a process sepa
rate fom the development of historical capitalism, but rather an integral
part of the story. Capitalists were well served by the establishment of
such sovereign states, obtaining fom them a multiplicity of services: to
guarantee their property rights, to provide them with protection rent,1 to
create the quasi-monopolies they needed to make significant profits, to
advance their interests over those of rival entrepreneurs located in other
countries, and to provide suffi cient order to guarantee their security.2 Of
course, these states were not equal in strength, and it was precisely this
inequality that enabled the stronger states to serve well their entrepre
neurs. But there was no land area within the division of labor that was
not under the jurisdiction of some state, and therefre there were no
individuals who were not subject to some primary state authority.
The period going from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries
marked the institutionalization of this system. During this period, the
original claim to the exercise of sovereignty was put frward in the name
of a so-called absolute monarch, although subsequently in some states
the ruler was under pressure to share the exercise of these sovereign
powers with a legislature or a magistrature. We are still however bfore
the era of passports and visas, or of migration controls, or of significant
voting privileges for more than a very small minority of the populations.
The mass of the population were "subjects," and a distinction between
subjects who had some kind of descent rights and those who did not
was seldom invoked and not very meaningfl. In the seventeenth cen
tury, the juridical and social difference in day-to-day lfe between say a
Breton migrant to Paris and a Rhineland migrant to Leyden (one cross
ing a not very visible international frontier and the other not) was hard
to discern.
The French Revolution transformed this situation, by transfrming
subjects into citizens. There would be no turning back, either fr France
or fr the capitalist world-system as a whole. The states had become
theoreticaly, and to some degree in practice, responsible to a large group
of persons with constituted political claims. During the nineteenth and
I NTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT? 1 07
twentieth centuries, implementation of these political claims may have
been slow and quite uneven in reality, but there was a clear triumph of
the rhetoric. And rhetoric matters. But once there were citizens, there
were noncitizens as well.
The transfrmation of subj ects into citizens was the consequence of
pressures both fom abve and below. Popular demands fr participation
in governance, what might be called the demand fr democratization,
expressed itself constantly and in whatever ways it could. It served as an
underlying frce that fund expression in populism and in revolution
ary upsurges. The claimants were regularly suppressed, but the concept
survived in a larval frm, always there with a potential to grow, even if
of ten weak as an immediate presence.
The long-run response to these demands of the so-called dangerous
classes was the political program of liberalism, the triumphant ide
ology of the capitalist world-system in the nineteenth century. The
liberals proposed a program of rational refrm, of measured conces
sions, of gradual institutional change. The nineteenth-century program
of liberalism had three main components: sufrage, redistribution, and
nationalism. 3 Sufrage involved giving the vote to larger and larger seg
ments of those resident in the state. By the twentieth century, universal
sufrage of adult males and females (with exceptions for specified cate
gories like flons and the insane) came to b the norm. Redistribution
involved state-decreed and state-enforced minimal levels of wages and
state-administered social security and welfare benefts, the so-called
welare state, a program that also became the norm, at least in the
wealthier countries, by the mid-twentieth century. The third element
in the program, nationalism, involved the creation of a sense of patri
otic attachment to one's own state, systematicaly transmitted primarily
by two institutions: primary schools (once again virtually universal by
the mid-twentieth century) and the armed services (participation in
which came to be the norm in most countries, even in peacetime, at
least fr men). Collective nationalist rituals also became quite frequent
everywhere.
If we look at each of these three major political institutions -suf
fage, the welfare state, and nationalist rituals/sentiments - we see
immediately the relevance of the distinction citizen/noncitizen, at least
as it operated up to twenty years ago or so. Only citizens had votes. It
was unthinkable that noncitizens would be allowed to vote, however
long they might have been resident in a country. State-administered
1 08 I NTEGRATI ON TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT?
welfare benefits usually, although not in every case, made distinctions
between citizens and noncitizens. And of course, nationalist rituals/
sentiments were the domain of citizens, fom which noncitizens were
socialy excluded, as a consequence of which the latter became moraly
suspect, especialy in times of interstate tension.
It is not only that these three institutions were developed as institu
tions of the separate states, albeit in parallel manner, but that citizens
were thereby privileged to be central to the process of constructing and
strengthening their own states. Since the states were involved in an in
terstate competition fr the "wealth of nations," and since the privileges
of the citizens seemed to depend on the achievement of the states, cit
izenship was considered to be an exceptional privilege, certainly at least
in all those states that were in the upper quartile of the hierarchy of
GNP Furthermore, these states all presented themselves to their citi
zens as somehow quite special, and this seemed plausible to those who
benefited fom citizenship.
Citizenship thus became something very vauable, and consequently
not something one was very willing to share with others. Citizenship in
one's state might b doled out to a few eager applicants, but in general it
was an advantage to be hoarded. This was al the more true insofar as the
citizens believed that they had struggled internaly (and externaly) to
acquire this privilege and that it had not been a mere gift to them. They
felt they merited the citizenship morally. Thus the fct that citizenship
as a concept constituted a demand from the bttom up made it all the
more effcacious as a mechanism by which the dangerous classes were
tamed fom the top down. the state rituals combined to reinfrce
the belief that the "nation" was the only society to which one belonged
or, if not the only one, the most important one by far.
Citizenship effced, or at least obscured, al other sorts of conficts -
class conficts; conficts btween groups or strata defned in terms of
race, ethnicity, gender, religion, language, or any other social criterion
other than "nation/society." Citizenship brought national confict to the
frefont. Citizenship was intended to be unifying within the state, and
it did in practice serve this purpose well, all the more so since citizen
ship conferred privilege, or at least seemed to do so. The concept of
citizen has been in general a quite stabilizing element in the modern
world-system. It did reduce intrastate disorder, and it cannot be ar
gued that it increased signifcantly interstate disorder abve the level
that would probably have existed in its absence. It has not only been
I NTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT? 1 09
a stabilizing concept; i t has been a central one. One has but to look
at the juridical scafflding of modern states to realize how much of
the legislation and administration of states depends on the category of
citizen.
Nonetheless, the concept of citizen has created diffculties, for one
of the socioeconomic underpinnings of the capitalist world-economy is
the imperative of continuing physical fows of the labor frce, or mi
gration. Migration is first of all an economic necessity. The constant
shifts in the location of economic activities, combined with the un
even distribution of demographic norms, means that, inevitably, there
are disparities in local supplies and demands fr specifc kinds of work
ers. Whenever this happens, the interests of some workers and some
employers are clearly served by some kind of labor migration, and it
therefore tends to occur, with greater or lesser promptness depending
on the legal constraints (as well as the practical possibilities of evading
these constraints). The disparity of local supplies and demands of the
labor force cannot be calculated simply in absolute totals of the labor
force. Diferent groups of workers tend to price themselves at different
levels for similar kinds of work. This is what we mean by "historical
wages." Hence, it is perfectly possible that, in a given local area, there
are persons seeking wage work who wil refuse to accept certain types
of low-paid wage work, and employers will turn to potential or actual
immigrants to fill the needs.
So, despite the fact that citizenship is a cherished good, which give
rise to "protectionist" sentiment, migration is a constantly recurring phe
nomenon in the modern world. This has been true since the beginnings
of the modern world-system. I am not sure that migration, however de
fned, is really quantitatively greater today than in previous centuries as
a percentage of the total population, despite the improvement in trans
port facilties, but it is certainly a more plitically noticed and politicaly
controversial phenomenon.
.
It is the concept of citizen that has changed the meaning of the
term "migrant. " A person who leaves a rural area or a small town and
moves to a large city fty kilometers away may be going through a
social transformation as great as one who moves to a large city five
thousand kilometers away. Or, if this is no longer true in many coun
tries in the late twentieth century, it was probably more or less true
everywhere until at least 1950. The diference is that the fve-thousand
kilometer migrant is quite lkely to traverse a state fontier, whereas the
1 1 0 INTEGRATI ON WHAT? MARGI NALI ZATI ON FROM WHAT?
fify-kilometer migrant is unlikely to do so. Hence, the frmer is legally
defined as a migrant (ergo not a citizen), whereas the latter is not.
A significant proportion of migrants tend to stay in the locale (or at
least the state) into which they have migrated. They tend to have chil
dren who are born in the new locale and who, quite ofen, are culturally
the products of their birthplace and not that of their parents' birthplace.
When we discuss the issue of integration, it is the integration of such
long-term migrants, and their children, of which we are usually speak
ing. Receiving countries have diffrent rules about the citizenship of
persons born in the count, fom thejus soli of the United States and
Canada to thejus sOnguinis of Japan and in a modifed frm Germany,
with a continuum of possibilities in between.
Integration is a cultural concept, not a legal one. The concept of in
tegration assumes that there is some cultural norm into the acceptance
of which one has to be integrated. For some states, which are largely
mono-lingual and mono-religious, such a norm may seem relatively ob
vious and not too intrusive, although even in such states one can always
find "minorities" who deviate from these normative patterns. For other
states, which have more "variegated" populations, dominant norms exist
nonetheless, but they seem more overbearing and pernicious. Take the
United States. At the time of the founding of the republic, the cultural
norm of citizenship was to be an English-speaking Protestant of one of
four varieties (Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Methodist, and Congrega
tionalist) . Of course, this definition corresponded to the upper stratum
but included parts of the middle and lower strata as well. This def
inition was slowly extended to include other varieties of Protestants.
Roman Catholics and Jews were fully included in the cultural defnition
only as recently as the 1950s, at which point politicians began to speak
of the "Judea-Christian heritage." Afican-Americans have never really
been included, whereas Latinos and Asian-Americans seem to be in a
holding pattern, awaiting their fture admission. Muslims, now fr the
first time a significant minority, are still excluded.
The U.S. example shows the flexibility that is possible in defining
the cultural normative pattern of any particular state. The quasi-official
ideological interpretation of this flexibility within the United States is
that it shows the capacity of the U.S. political system to incorporate out
siders into the category of citizen, and thereby to "integrate" them into
the nation. No doubt it does show this. But it also shows that at no point
have all migrants been integrated. One might wonder whether there is
INTEGRATI ON TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT? 1 1 1
not something inherent in the process such that at no point would it
ever be true that all outsiders will be incorporated. Emile Durkheim
once suggested that, whenever deviance disappears de fcto, the social
system redefines its norms so as to re-create statistical deviance. Perhaps
the same thing is true in relation to the concept of citizen. When all
residents are de facto integrated, does the "nation" redefine itself so as
to re-create "marginals"?
Such an outrageous idea assumes that there is social utility to the
creation of marginals, and social scientists have in fact often suggested
this in one way or another: the value of a scapegoat on whom to thrust
our collective sins; the existence of an understratum to create permanent
far among the dangerous classes that they might be made even worse
of than they are, and that they therefore should restrain their level of
demands; the strengthening of in-group loyalty by providing visible, and
undesirable, contrasting strata. These are all plausible suggestions; they
are, however, also quite general and generic.
I noted earlier that this pattern remained more or less the same fom
about 1800 to the 1970s, intimating that matters have changed some
what since then. I believe this is true. The world revolution of 1968
marked a turning-point i n the history of our modern world-system in
many ways. What has not been noticed is that one of its consequences
was to put into question, for the first time since the French Revolu
tion, the concept of citizenship. It was not merely the fact that 1968
was "internationalist" in spirit. After all, we had internationalist move
ments already throughout the nineteenth and twentieth centuries: on
the one hand, the various workers' internationals, and, on the other
hand, all kinds of peace movements. As we know, such internation
alist movements were not very effi cacious in constaining the outburst
of nationalist sentiment among their members or audience when ten
sion in the interstate system rose sharply. The most notable instance,
regularly noted, was the response of the socialist parties to the outbreak
of the First World War.4 The reason is well explained by A. Kriegel and
]. ]. Becker in their book on the French socialist debates in the weeks
preceding the outbreak of war in 1914:
It appears thus that a certain socialism is nothing but a modern frm
of Jacobinism, and, fced with one's country in danger, the voice of the
"great ancestors" outweighed that of socialist theories, whose relevance to
the immediate situation was diffcult to perceive. In the immense patri
otic whirlwind in which the country was enveloped, war was once again
1 12 INTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATION FROM WHAT?
seen as capable of achieving old aspirations: instead of human faternity
through peace, it was human faterity through war, through victory.
5
The internationalist orientation of workers' and peace movements
was deeply constrained by the fact that each had created their organiza
tions at the national level. But even more important, they had created
their organizations at the national level because they considered that
their objectives could best, perhaps only, be realized at the national level.
That is, they acted primarily as citizens, joined together m a political
efort to influence, even transform, their states. It was their presump
tion that, by changing their states, they would contribute to creating the
international solidarity of which they were partisan. Nonetheless, the
political activity was frst of a and most of ten exclusively, national.
What was diferent about the world revolution of 1968 was that it
was just the opposite, an expression of disillusionment in the possi
bilities of state-level refrmism. Indeed, the participants went frther.
They argued m efect that the orientation to national refrmism was it
self a prime means of sustaining a world-system they wanted to reject.
The revolutionaries were not against popular action but against citizen
action, even when it claimed to be "revolutionary." It was this stance that
perhaps aroused the greatest dismay among those distressed by the 1968
uprisings, especialy among the Old Left.
This attitude of the 1968 revolutionaries arose out of two analyses
they made of the history of the modern world-system. The frst was
that the historic two-step strategy of the world's antisystemic move
ments -frst achieve state power, then transform the world -was in
their view a historic failure. The revolutionaries of 1968 said in effect
that the antisystemic movements born in the nineteenth and twentieth
centuries -the Social-Democrats, the Communists, and the national
liberation movements -all had in fact already come to state pwer,
more or less, in the period fllowing the Second World War. But, having
done so, they hadn't changed the world.
This frst observation was rendered still more critical by the sec
ond element of the analysis. Insofr as the antisystemic movements
had achieved power, it was indeed true that they had effectuated cer
tain refrms that seemed to be progressive, if not revolutionary. But,
but . . . these refrms were said to have systematically fvored a partic
ular and smal segment of the lower strata - those of the dominant
ethnic group in each country, males primarily, those who were more ed-
INTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT? 1 1 3
ucated (Shall we say more "integrated"?) into the national culture. There
were many others left out, forgotten, "marginalized," who hadn't bene
fted really even fom the limited reforms that had been instituted: the
women, the "minorities," and all sorts of nonmainstream groups.
What happened afer 1968 is that the "forgotten peoples" began
to organize both as social movements and as intellectual movements
and set frth their claims not merely against the dominant strata but
against the concept of the citizen. One of the most important themes
of the post-1968 movements was that they were not merely opposed
to racism and sexism. After all, there had long been movements who
fught against racism and sexism. But the post-1968 movements added
something new. They insisted not merely that racism and sexism were
matters of individual prejudice and discrimination but that they took
on "institutional" frms as well. What these movements seemed to be
talking about was not overt juridical discrimination but the covert frms
that were hidden within the concept of "citizen," insofar as citizen was
meant to indicate the combination of competence and inherited rights.
Of course, any struggle against covert denial of rights is plagued by
the problem of plausibility, evidence, and ultimately proof. What the
movements pointed to was outcome. They argued that, in point of fact,
there continued to exist g-ross differentials in the hierarchical position
of multiple groups, and this outcome could only be, it was argued, the
outcome of institutional marginalization. As an argument in social sci
ence, the assertion that institutional marginalization was systematic and
fndamental to the contemporary world-system has basically only two
possible responses.
One is the conservative response: to deny the premises. The difer
ential in outcomes in group hierarchization may be patently observable,
but it does not flow that the cause is institutional marginalization. It
can be argued that other fctors explain the diferential outcome, fctors
having to do with cultural differentials among the groups. This line of
reasoning faces a simple logical problem. Even if we discover so-called
cultural diferentials among the groups being measured, how in turn
do we explain these differentials -by other cultural diferentials? Ul
timately, we must return either to a social-structural explanation, which
was the case of those who put forward the hypothesis of institutional
racism/sexism, or alternatively to a sociobiological one, which quickly
glides into classical racism-sexism.
If we wish to reject the conservative stance and accept the social-
1 1 4 INTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATION FROM WHAT?
structural explanation, then the issue shifts fom accounting fr the
differentials to reducing them, presuming that this is seen as a moral
good. And indeed, this has been one of the central, if not the central,
political debate of the last twenty years. Let us review the various posi
tions put frth in this debate. The simplest position -simplest because
it accords best with the traditional arguments of liberal ideology -has
been that institutional racism and sexism can be overcome by making
overt what was covert. And, many added, since it takes time fr the pro
cess to work, it can be speeded up by temporary systematic assistance to
those against whom institutional marginalization had historicaly oper
ated. This was the essential case for the original program of this kind,
the U.S. program called "affirmative action."
In efect, affrmative action programs are intended to "integrate"
those who in theory should long since have been integrated. They are
programs to carry out the original intent of the concept of citizenship,
which, it was being argued, had somehow been subverted by frces anti
thetical to the fl realization of democracy, or citizenship. Affirmative
action programs tended to assume the good faith of the "system," but
the bad fith of individual participants. They therefore seldom, if ever,
posed the prior question of whether there was anything systemic in the
fact that theoretical citizenship had never been fully realized, even for
the categories of persons to whom it supposedly applied.
Affrmative action programs -which, even with great efforts (po
litical and fnancial), had accomplished limited results - had three
drawbacks. In the first place, there was considerable covert resistance to
them, and this resistance fund many outlets. For example, transgroup
school integration was extremely difficult, as long as de facto housing
segregation existed. But to challenge de facto housing segregation meant
both to intrude in an area generally considered to be part of individual
choice and to tackle the issue of class-based de fcto housing segregation
(since class and race/ethnicity categories were highly correlated) .
In the second place, affirmative action only took into account i n some
sense those who theoretically had citizen rights. But the definition of
these categories was in itself part of the issue. Should the children
of migrants (Turks in Germany Koreans in Japan, and so on) b ex
cluded fom the rights enjoyed by the children of nonmigrants? Should
migrants themselve be excluded? This led to many demands fr the
extension of citizenship rights to juridical noncitizens -both by the
easing of the mechanisms of acquiring citizenship and even by the for-
INTEGRATI ON TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATI ON FROM WHAT? 1 15
mal extension of some rights historically accorded only to citizens to
noncitizens (for example, the right to vote, at least in so-called local
elections) .
In the third place, the logic of affirmative action led to the expan
sion of the kinds of groups making claims, as well as to the subivision
of groups making claims. And inevitably, this led to a de fcto quota
system that seemed to have no end. Nor was it clear when this tempo
rary adjustment could or would make place fr a so-called refrmed or
fully implemented citizenship to operate without reference to subgroups
of citizens. This led inevitably to the charge of "reverse racism" -that
is, to the charge that the previously marginalized groups were now in
fact being juridically fvored, and particularly at the expense of other
low-ranking groups who had been historically more integrated (say,
members of the working classes who were male and of the dominant
ethnic group). Affirmative action thereupon became not merely difficult
to administer and of uncertain benefits but politically very difficult to
sustain. This was true not merely within the states as plitical structures
but within the universities as structures of knowledge as welL
There was of course another path to pursue if one wished to over
come the limitations of traditional concepts of citizenship, limitations
in terms of the unequal outcomes. Instead of pursuing further "integra
tion" into the structures of marginalized groups, one could pursue the
path of the equality of groups. Whereas affrmative action found legit
imation in the liberal concept of the perfect equality of all citizens, the
concept of group equality fund legitimacy in the liberal concept of the
self-determination of nations. To be sure, the latter concept had been
intended to apply only to the relations of states to each other, and hence
to the rights of "colonies" to become sovereign states, but it was only a
slight stretch of the concept to apply it to groups within states.
This was the path of group "identity,'' which, as we know, has fund
strong support within women's groups, within groups based on race
or ethnicity, within groups based on sexuality, and indeed within an
expanding number of other groups. The path of group identity has in
volved the rejection of the concept of integration entirely. Why, said its
proponents, should marginalized group want to integrate into domi
nant groups? The very concept of integration involves, they argued, the
assumption of biological or at least biocultural hierarchy It assumes that
the group into which one is being called to integrate is, in some way, su
perior to the group that has been marginalized. On the contrary, said the
1 1 6 I NTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGINALIZATION FROM WHAT?
proponents of group identity, our historical identity is at least as valid
as, if not outrightly superior to, the identity into which we are being
called to integrate.
The path of groups proclaiming the validity of their identity, and
hence the need to reinforce group consciousness of their identity, is the
path generically of "cultural nationalism." This is essentialy a segre
gationist path, but (it turns out) not one necessaily antithetical to state
integration. One can argue for it in the name of a state integration based
not on individual citizens but on collective citizens, so to speak.
The diffculties with this path lie in the definition of the groups
that could be the collective citizens. This is not necessarily insoluble.
Switzerland historically has acknowledged, in certain ways, collective
linguistic citizens. Some persons in Qebec have argued for the recog
nition of two historic "nations" within the Canadian state. Belgium
has gone down this path. Without arguing the specifc political situ
ations of each of these cases, it is apparent that, whenever one puts
forth the idea of collective citizens, one political dilemma is that
there are always unresolved, and perhaps unresolvable, nodal points of
noninclusion (so-called allophones in Canada) or overlap (Brussels in
Belgium).
But this is the not the greatest diffculty of cultural nationalism. After
all, one can in many cases arrive at plitical compromises. The greatest
problem, as in the case of affrmative action, is the defnition of the
groups themselves, and for themselves. For, as we know, however we
defne cultural groups, they contain subgroups or crosscutting groups.
The discussion within women's movements about the neglect of the in
terests of women of color (at a national level) or of Third World women
(at a world level) by White women has led to divisions parallel to those
provoked by the discussion within states of the neglect of the interests
of women by men.
Once again, there ae ways to handle this politically. They al take
the form, more or less, of proposing a "rainbow" coalition, that is, a
coalition of all marginalized groups within the state to pursue transfor
mations of interests common to them. But rainbow coalitions too run
into two problems: debates about compaative victimship and decisions
about which groups are to be considered marginalized for the purposes
of inclusion in the coaition. And they run into the same reaction as
affrmative action: the charge of exclusion. If there can be separate
schools for Blacks or for women, in order to foster consciousness, may
I NTEGRATION TO WHAT? MARGI NALIZATION FROM WHAT? 1 17
there also be separate schools fr Whites or fr men? Essentialism is a
double-edged sword.
It is no wonder that, given the fct that each proposed solution
has run into difficulties, marginalized groups have been deeply divided
about their strategy and have been osciJlating in their tactics. One might
ask the question whether the difficulties do not lie in the fct that, at the
bottom, the entire debate about integration and marginalization, even
for the post-1968 groups, despite their skeptical rhetoric, has ben based
on the assumptions of the concept of citizenship, and that the concept
of citizenship is, in its essence, always simultaneously inclusionary and
exclusionary.
The concept of citizen makes no sense unless some are excluded fom
it. And "the some who are to be excluded must be, in the last anay
sis, an arbitrarily selected group. There is no prfect rationale for the
boundaries of the categories of exclusion. Furthermore, the concept
of citizen is bound up with the fundamental structure of the capital
ist world-economy. It derives from the construction of a states-system
that is hierarchical and polarizing, which means that citizenship (at least
in the wealthier and more powerfl states) is inevitably defned as a priv
ilege that it is not in its members' interest to share. It is bound up with
the need to hold in check the dangerous classes, and they can best be
held in check both by including some and by excluding others.
In short, I am arguing that the entire discussion about integration
and marginalization has led us into a cul-de-sac, out of which there
is no exit. Better not to enter it and instead to begin to conceive how
we can go beyond the concept of citizen. Of course, this means going
beyond the structures of our modern world-system. But, since I believe
that our modern world-system is in a terminal crisis (a case I do not
have the time to develop now),6 we should perhaps at least consider the
kind of historical system we wish to construct and whether it would be
possible to dispense with the concept of citizen; and if so, to replace it
with what?
Chuper 8
Social Change?
Change Is Eternal. Nothing Ever Changes
I have included in my title the opening sentences of The Mode World
System: "Change u eternal. Nothing ever changes." It u a theme that
seems to me to be central to our modern intellectual endeavor. That
change is eternal is the defning belief of the modern world. That
nothing ever changes is the recurrent wail of all those who have been
disabused of the so-called progress of modern times. But it is also a re
current theme of the universalizing scientifc ethos. In any case, both
statements are intended to be assertions about empirical reality. And of
course both often, even usualy, refect normative preferences.
The empirical evidence is very incomplete and ultimately uncon
vincing. For one thing, the kind of evidence one can ofer and the
conclusions one can draw fom the evidence seem to depend on the
time periods measured. Measurement over short periods of time in some
ways best captures the enormity of social change. Who does not think
that the world looks diferent in 1996 fom 1966? and even more fom
1936? not to speak of 1906? One need only look at Portugal -its polit
ical system, its economic activities, its cultural norms. And yet of course
in many ways Portugal has changed very little. Its cultural specifcities
are still recognizable. Its social hierarchies are only marginally diferent.
Its geopolitical alliances still refect the same fndamental strategic con
cerns. Its relative rank in the world's economic networks has remained
remarkably constant in the twentieth century. And of course the Por
tuguese still speak Portuguese -not a small matter. So which is it: Is
change eternal, or does nothing ever change?
Suppose we take a longer time period, say fve hundred years -the
duration of the modern world-system. In some ways the changes seem
Address at the opning session of the III Portuguese Congress of Sociolog, Lisbon, February 7 ,
1996. The theme of the congress was "Practices and Processes of Social Change."
1 1 8
SOCIAL CHANGE? 1 1 9
even more striking. In this period, we have seen the emergence of a
worldwide capitalist system, and along with it extraordinary technolog
ical changes. Airplanes circle the globe today, and many of us, while
sitting in our homes, can instantly contact persons at the other end of
the globe via the Internet and download texts and graphics. In January
1996, astronomers announced that they are able to "see" so much frther
than ever bfore that they have quintupled the estimated size of the uni
verse. We are now talking of there being billions of galaxies, each with
billions of stars, covering a distance of I cannot begin to imagine how
many light-years. And at the same time these astronomers have just
uncovered planets similar to the earth around two of these stars, the
frst such planets they have fund, ones they assert to have the climatic
conditions that could support complex biological structures, in short,
possible life. How many more will we soon discover? Five hundred years
ago Bartolemeu Dias was thought remarkable to have reached by sail the
Indian Ocean, but even he never dreamed of such exotic possibilities as
are now before us. Yet at the same time, we are being told by many
persons, including many social scientists, that we have reached the end
. of modernity, that the modern world is in terminal crisis, and that we
may soon find ourselves in a world that resembles the furteenth cen
tury more than the twentieth. The more pessimistic among us fresee
the possibility that the infastructure of the world-economy, in which
we have invested fve centuries of work and capital, may go the way of
the Roman aqueducts.
Suppose we now lengthen our horizons even more, to a period of
some ten thousand years. This takes us back to a moment in time
when neither Portugal nor any other contemporary politicocultural en
tity existed, to a moment in time that is almost beyond our ability to
reconstruct historically, to a moment in time bfore agriculture was a
signifcant human activity. There are those who look back on the mul
tiple hunting and gathering bands that flourished then as structures in
which humans worked many fewer hours pr day and pr year to main
tain themselves than they do today, whose social relations were infnitely
more egalitarian, and that operated in an environment that was far less
polluted and dangerous. For some analysts, the so-called progress of the
past ten thousand years may therefore rather be sid to constitute one
long regression. And, fr some furthermore, the expectation and hope
are that this long cycle is near an end and that we may be returning to
the "healthier" conditions of yesteryear.
120 SOCIAL CHANGE?
How may we appraise such contrasting views? And how may we deal
with the issues under debate, scientifcally and philosophically? These
seem to me the key questions facing social scientists in general, and
indeed all the bearers and creators of knowledge. They are not ques
tions, however, that will be resolved by one more empirical study, even a
very ambitious one. Nonetheless, one may say that it is very diffcult to
frmulate intelligently empirical studies on any concrete issue, without
creating fr ourselves the solid underpinning of an intellectual fame
work that enables us to place our analyses intelligenty within this larger
famework. For too long, fr two centuries now, we have declined to do
this on the grounds that this larger famework was a lure of "philosoph
ical speculation," not to be taken seriously by "rational scientists. " This
was an error that we can no longer affrd to indulge.
The social sciences, as we know them today, are a child of the
Enlightenment. Indeed, in some ways, they are the fnest product of
the Enlightenment: they represent the belief that human societies are
intelligible structures whose operation we can understand. From this
premise, it has been thought to fllow that humans can affect their own
world crucially by using their capacities to achieve rationaly the good
society. Of course, social science has accepted, virually without ques
tioning it, the frther Enlightenment premise that the world is evolving
inevitably toward the good society that is to say, that progress is our
natural heritage.
If one blieves in the certainty of progress, and in its rationaty, then
the study of social change cannot be thought of as merely one partic
ular domain of social science. Rather, all of social science is necessarily
the study of social change. There is no other subject. And in that case,
it is clearly true that "change is eternal," albeit in a specifed direction.
Indeed, the whole theme is quite teleological: fom barbarism to civi
lization, fom animal behavior to godlike behavior, fom ignorance to
knowledge.
If then we are called upon to discuss the practices and processes of
social change, we ft ourselves into a very clear and simple mold. It be
comes virualy a technocratic exercise. We are required to analyze the
immediate changes that we perceive and then to judge whether they are
more or less rational, or, if you prefer, fnctional. Essentialy, we are ex
plaining how it is that they are as they are. And we then can, if we wish,
prescribe what can be done to adjust the arrangements, such that we ad
vance collectively more rapidly toward the good society. We are thereby
SOCIAL CHANGE? 121
thought to be useful, or policy-oriented, or practical. We can of course
vary the parameters of time and space we use in such exercises, applying
our knowledge to the case of very small groups over very short periods
of time or to much larger groups (say sovereign states) over medium
length periods of time, as, for example, when we ask what we can do to
"develop the national economy."
Social scientists of akinds have been engaged in these sorts of anal
yses fr at least a century, overtly or coverty. When I add coverty, I
mean that many social scientists would not defne their activities as be
ing so immediately tied to the exercise of public rationality. They might
defne it rather as the pursuit of more perfect knowledge in the abstract.
But even when they do this, they know that the knowledge that they
produce is being used by others to help achieve the more prfect society.
And they are aware that the economic underpinnings of their scientific
research are conditioned on their ability to show social beneft fom the
work, at least in some longer run.
The same Enlightenment assumptions, however, can lead us in a dif
ferent, even opposite, direction. The presumed rationality of the social
world, just lke the presumed rationality of the physical world, implies
that lawlike propositions may be frmulated that describe it flly and
that such propositions hold true across time and space. That is to say, it
implies the possibility of universals that can be stated exactly and ele
gantly and concludes that the object of our scientifc activity is precisely
to frmulate and test the validity of such universals. This is of course
nothing but the adaptation of Newtonian science to the study of so
cial realities. And it is therefore no accident that, already in the erly
nineteenth century, some authors used the labl of "social physics" to
describe such activity.
This search fr lawlike propositions is, in fct, totally compatible with
the policy-oriented practical research that u centered on the achieve
ment of the teleological objective of the good society. No one need feel
uncomfrtable pursuing the two objectives at the same time. Still, there
is one small hitch in this double pursuit, one that has to do with social
change. If the patterns of human interaction fllow universal laws that
hold true across time and space, then it cannot be true that "change
is eternal." ite the opposite, in fct: it fllows that "nothing ever
changes," or at least nothing fndamental ever changes. At which point,
not only is it not true that all of social science is the study of social
change, but precisely the inverse. The study of social change becomes
1 22 SOCIAL CHANGE?
defned as simply the study of the deviations fom equilibria. In this
case, even if one starts out, like Herbert Spencer, by offering the study
of social change 50 percent of the space -the study of social dynamics
as a pendant to the study of social statics -one w:B rapidly arrive at
a practice wherein social change as a topic is the vermiform appendix
of social science, an antiquated leftover fom an early penchant for so
cial refrm. We can see that this did in fact happen by looking at many
of our elementary textbooks for students, which reserve fr their very
last chapter the topic of "social change," a blated acknowledgment that
there exist some minor problems with the static description of the social
structure.
Today, the Enlightenment view of the world is under much attack,
and fom many sides. Few persons would admit to accepting it without
qualifcations. They would seem naive. Nonetheless, the view remains
deeply rooted in the practice and the theorizing of social science. And
it will take more than bombastic denunciations by postmodernists to
uproot it. Social scientists wil not be ready to accept a basic reorien
tation of their view of social change without being frst convinced that
they will not thereby lose the raison d'etre of social science. What I
should like therefore to present is a rationale for a social science that
has a alternatve logic to one based on a belief in progress. I believe we
no longer need to b prisoners of a Methodenstreit between idiographic
and nomothetic frms of knowledge. believe that the presumed fn
damental split between the "two cultures" -science versus philosophy/
literature -u a lure and a deception and must be overcome. I believe
that neither statement about social change -change is eternal; nothing
ever changes -can be accepted as valid as stated. I believe, in short,
that we need to fnd another and better language with which to describe
social reality.
Let me start by discussing the most traditional concept of sociology,
that of society. We are said to live within, to be part of, societies. There
are supposed to be many societies, but (as the term is used) each of us is
supposedly a member of only one of them, and at most a visitor in any
other. But what are the boundaries of such societies? This is a question
that has been in many ways strenuously and deliberately ignored by so
cial scientists. Not, however, by pliticians. For the origin of our current
concept of "society" lies not too very far in the past. It came into use in
the ffty-year period fllowing the French Revolution, when it became
SOCIAL CHANGE? 1 23
common practice i n the European world to assert (or at least assume)
that social L in the modern world was divided into three diferent
spheres -the state, the market, and the civil society. The boundaries
of the state were defned juridically. And implicitly, never explicity, the
boundaries of the other two spheres were assumed to share those of the
state, if fr no other reason than that the state asserted that this was
true. France, or Great Britain, or Portugal was each assumed to have
a national state, a national market or national economy, and a national
society. These were a priori assertions, for which evidence was rarely
ofered.
Although these three constructs existed in the same boundaries, it
was nonetheless insisted that they were distinct fom each other -dis
tinct both in the sense of being autonomous, each supposedly fllowing
its own set of rules, and in the sense that each was operating in ways
that might put it at odds with the other entity. Thus, fr example, the
state might possibly not b representative of the "society." This is what
the French meant when they distinguished le pays lgal from le pays
reel. Indeed, the social sciences were constructed originally around this
distinction. To each of these hypothetical entities corresponded a "disci
pline. " Economists studied the market; political scientists the state; and
sociologists the civil society.
This partitioning of social reality was, to b sure, an immediate
derivation fom Enlightenment philosophy. It incarnated the belief that
human social structures had "evolved" and that the defining fature of
higher social structures, that is modern social structures, is their "dif
frentiation" into autonomous spheres. This is quite recognizably the
dogma of libral ideology, the dominant ideology of the past two cen
turies, which has served as the geoculture of the modern world-system.
The proof, incidentally, that postmodernism is less a break with mod
ernism and more plausibly merely the latest version of modernism is the
fact that the postmodernists have not at al escaped from this schematic
model. When they inveigh about the oppression of objective structures
and preach the virtues of "culture" embodying subjective agency, they
are essentially invoking the primacy of the sphere of civil society over
those of the state and the market. But i the process they are accepting
the thesis that the differentiation into three autonomous spheres is real
and a primordial analytic element.
I do not believe myself that these three arenas of action are in fact
autonomous and that they fllow separate principles. Qiite the oppo-
1 24 SOCIAL CHANGE?
site! I believe that they are so thoroughly intertwined with each other
that action in any of the arenas is always pursued as an option in which
the overall effect is the determining consideration, and that it obscures
rather than clarifies analysis of the real world to attempt to separate the
description of the sequential chains of action. In this sense, I do not
believe that the modern world is any different fom previous periods of
world history. That is to say, I do not believe that "diferentiation" is a
distinguishing feature of modernity. Nor do I believe that we live within
multiple, distinctive "societies" within the modern world, that each state
contains one and only one "society," and that each of us is a member
essentially of only one such "society."
Let me explain why. It seems to me that the appropriate units of
analysis fr social reality are what I call "historical systems." What I
mean by a historical system is implied by the name itself. It is a system
insofar as it is built around an ongoing division of labr that permits
it to sustain and reproduce itself. The boundaries of the system are an
empirical question, to be resolved by determining the boundaries of the
efective division of labor. To be sure, every social system necessarily
has various kinds of institutions that in efect gover or constrain so
cial action such that the basic principles of the system are realized, to
the degree possible, and persons and groups in the social system are so
cialized into behavior that is consonant with the system, once again to
the degree possible. We may designate various of these institutions as
bing economic, political, and sociocultural, if we wish, but such desig
nations are in fact inaccurate, since all the institutions act in ways that
are simultaneously political, economic, and sociocultural, and could not
be efective if they did not.
But, at the same time, every system is necessariy historical. That
is to say, the system came into existence at some moment in time as
a result of processes we can anayze; it evolved over time by processes
we can analyze; and it came (or wil come) to an end because (like z
systems) there comes a moment when it has or will have exhausted the
ways in which it can contain its contradictions, and it thereby goes out
of existence as a system.
You will notice immediately what this implies about social change.
To the degree that we are talking of a system, we are sying that "noth
ing ever changes." If the structures do not remain essentialy the same,
in what sense are we taking about a system? But, to the extent that we
insist that the system is "historical," we are saying that "change is eter-
SOCI AL CHANGE 1 25
nal." The concept of history involves a diachronic process. It is what
Heraclitus meant when he said that we cannot step into the same water
twice. It is what some natural scientists mean toay when they talk of
the "arrow of time." Hence, it fllows that both statements about social
change are true, within the famework of a given historical system.
There are various kinds of historical systems. The capitalist world
economy in which we are presently living is one of them. The Roman
Empire was another. The Maya structures in Central America com
prised another. And there have been countless tiny historical systems.
How to decide when any one of these came into existence and when
it then ceased to exist is a diffcult and contentious empirical question;
but theoretically there is no problem at a. By defnition, the label of
historicaf system is assigned to entities that have a division of labor with
integrated production structures, a set of organizing principles and in
stitutions, and a definable life span. Our task as social scientists is to
analyze such historical systems, that is, to demonstrate the nature of
their division of labor, to uncover their organizing principles, to describe
the fnctioning of their institutions, and to account for the systems'
historical trajector, including both their genesis and their demise. Of
course, each of us does not have to do the whole thing. Like any other
scientifc activity, this is a task that can be divided up and shared. But
unless we are clear about the famework of our analysis (the historical
system), our work will not be very insightfl or fuitfl. What I have j ust
said applies to any particular historical system. And each of us may de
vote energy to the analysis of one or another particular historical system.
In the past, most persons who called themselves sociologists restricted
their concern to an analysis of the modern world-system, but there is no
sound intellectual reason for this.
There is, however, a further task fr social science. If there have been
multiple historical systems in the history of the world, we may won
der what their relation to each other is. Are they ontologically linked
to each other, and if so in what way? This is the question of what
Krzysztof Pomian calls chronosophy. The Enlightenment view of the
world had a particular answer to that question. It saw the relation of
what I am calling historical systems, the oties to the others, as sequential
and cumulative: over time, the successive systems became more complex
and more rational, culminating in "modernity." Is this the only way to
describe their relationship? I do not think so. In fct, I think this is
distinctly the wrong way to describe their relationship. The basic ques-
1 26 SOCI AL CHANGE?
tion of social change repeats itself at this level. We have to ask whether
change or repetition is the norm not only about the internal life of each
historical system but also about the composite history of human life on
this planet. And here too I am going to argue that neither statement -
change is eternal; nothing ever changes -is satisfactory.
Befre, however, we discuss the composite history of human lif on this
planet, let us return to the issue of social change within any given his
torical system. And let us do this by looking at the historical system of
which we are a part, and which I defne as a capitalist world-economy.
There are three quite separate intellectual questions that ought not to
be confounded one with the other. The frst is the question of genesis.
How is it that this historical system came into existence, at the time and
place that it did and in the way that it did? The second is the question
of systemic structure. What are the rules by which this particular his
torical system, or perhaps more generaly, this type of historical system,
fnctions? What are the institutions through which these rules are im
plemented? Who are the social actors in confict with each other? What
are the secular trends of the system? The third is the question of demise.
What are the contradictions of the historical system, and at what point
do they become intractable, leading to a bifurcation in the system, en
tailing the demise of the system, and the emergence of one (or more)
replacement system(s)? Not only are the three questions separate, but
the methodology (the modes of possible inquiry) that may be used to
respond to these queries ae not at all the same.
I wish to emphasize the importance I attach to not confounding the
three questions. Most analyses of socia change center around only the
second set of issues, the functioning of the historical system. The an
alysts quite often assume a functionalist teleology; that is to say, they
presume that its genesis is adequately explained, once they can dem
onstrate that the kind of system they are describing works well, and
they can argue that the system is "superior" in its mode of fnctioning
to prior systems. In this sense, the genesis assumes a quasi-inevitable
character, situated in the logic of history and tied to setting in motion
the particular kind of system. As fr demise, this is explained in the
case of defunct systems not by the inherent contradictions in the sys
tem (for every system has contradictions) but by the asserted infriority
of its mode of functioning, which inevitably gave way to presumably
superior modes of functioning. And, it should be noted, this question
SOCIAL CHANGE? 127
is seldom posed at all fr the current historical system, so obvious to
us seems its superiority. You can observe this kind of reasoning in the
endless num her of books that seek to explain the emergence of the mod
ern Western world as the end point of a logical evolutionary process,
books whose argumentation normaly involves a searching in the depths
of history for the seeds that have led to the present -the glorious
present.
There is an alternative way of discussing this same histor. Let us il
lustrate this by discussing the modern world-system. We may take the
period of its genesis as being somewhere about A. n. 1450, and its locus
western Europe. At that moment of time in that region, there occurred
the more or less simultaneous great movements we call the Renaissance,
the Gutenberg revolution, the Descobrimentos, and the Protestant Refr
mation. Now this moment in time came in the wake of a somber period
in this same region, in which there was the Black Death, the abandon
ment of vilages (the Wustungen), and the so-caled crisis of feudalism
(or the crisis of seigniorial revenues). How might we go about explain
ing the end of the feudal system and its replacement by another system,
more or less in the same geographic zone?1
First we need to explain why the previously existing system could no
longer make the adjustments necessary to continue operating according
to its rules. I beleve that, in this case, it is explained by a simultaneous
collapse in the three key institutions that sustained the feudal system:
the seigniors, the states, and the Church. The drastic demographiccol
lapse meant that there were fewer persons to till the land, that revenues
fell, that rents fell, that commerce contracted, and that consequently
serfdom as an institution declined or disappeared. In general, peasants
were able to exact far better economic terms fom large landowners. As
a result, the power and the revenues of the seigniors declined signif
icantly. The states in turn collapsed both because of the drop in their
own revenues and because the seigniors turned on each other in order to
salvage their persona situations in difficult times (which, by decimat
inthe nobility, frther weakened them vis-a-vis the peasantry). And
the Church was attacked fom within, both because of its weakened
economic situation and because the collapse of the seigniors led to a
generalized decline in authority.
When a historical system flls apart m this way, what normaly hap
pens is that it becomes subject to a renewal of the ruling strata, most
fequently by conquest fom without. Had this been the fate of western
128 SOCIAL CHANGE?
Europe in the fifeenth century, we would have taken no greater notice
of this transformation than we have taken of the historical replacement
of the Ming dynasty in China by the Manchus (which essentially was
precisely what I have described, a renewal of the ruling strata by con
quest fom without) . This did not, however, happen in western Europe.
Instead, as we know, the feudal system was in fact replaced by something
radicaly diferent, the capitalist system.
The first thing we must note is, far fom being inevitable, this was
a surprising and unanticipatable development. And the second thing to
note is that it was not necessarily a happy solution. In any case, how did
this occur, or why? I would suggest that it occurred primarily because the
normal external renewal of ruling strata was accidentally and unusualy
not possible. The most plausible conquering stratum, the Mongols, had
themselves just collapsed fr reasons quite external to what was happen
ing in western Europe, and there happened to be no other conquering
frce immedately available. The Ottomans came along a little too late,
and by the time they tried to conquer Europe, the new European sys
tem was already strong enough (but just) to keep them from advancing
beyond the Balkans.
But why then was feudalism replaced by capitalism? Here we have to
remember that capitalist entrepreneurial strata had long existed in west
ern Europe as in many others parts of the globe; indeed, such groups
had existed fr centuries, if not millennia. There had, however, been m
all previous historical systems very strong frces that limited their ability
to have fee rein and to make their motivations the defining character
istics of the system. This was very clearly true of Christian Europe,
where the powerful institutions of the Catholic Church maintained a
constant battle against "usury. " In Christian Europe, as elsewhere in the
world, capitalism was an illegitimate concept, and its practitioners were
tolerated in only relatively small corners of the social universe. Capital
ist frces did not suddenly become stronger or more legitimate in the
eyes of most people. In any case, it had never been primariy the degree
of strength of capital st frces that had been the decisive fctor but the
strength of the social opposition to capitalism. Suddenly, the institu
tions that sustained this social opposition had become quite weak. And
the inability to reestablish them or create similar structures by renewing
the rulng strata via external conquest gave a momentary (and probably
unprecedented) opening to such capitalist frces, which swty entered
the breach and consolidated themselves. We must think of this occur-
SOCIAL CHANGE? 129
rence as extraordinary unexpected, and surely undetermined (a concept
to which we shall return).
onetheess it happened. In terms of social change, this was a once
only event, which we certainly cannot put under the heading of "nothing
ever changes. " The change in this instance was fndamental. Instead of
calling this fndamental change "the rise of the West," as is usualy and
self-servingly done, I would designate it myself as "the moral collapse
of the West." Since, however, capitalism, once given its head, is indeed
a very dynamic system, it rapidly took hold and eventually swept the
entire planet into its orbit. This is how I perceive the genesis of the
modern world-system in which we are lvng. It is wondrously aleatory.
We thereupon come to the second question about a historical ,
ter: What are the rules by which it works? What is the nature of its
institutions? What are its central conflicts? I shall not take time to deal
with this here in detail about the modern world-system.2 I shal merely
briefy summarize the essential elements. What defnes a system, this
system,_s..Ca!?!l lt seems to me that the direntia specica is
t
the );ti!
p
_iiQ!_.. __
u-
ation capit. Tha
_
- it is a system whose institutions

are geared to rewardi!g_ver the middle run all those who give pri
m
a
cy to
.
th
muation of capital and _p}nish_il the middle run all
th-atte_Lmnt_ohe
,o.ies. The set of institutions

t
h
-
at
-
re established to. make this po_ssile inclu+the elaboration of

ng-
t
-
,-go,_ car
t
g tion
a<.. QQeratig to optimize
p
roft
:
a
.
:U
.
he
s
.
as a whole,
. the --:w.:. -:::-
system, the creation of income-pooling households as the basic units of
social reproduction, and eventually an integrated geoculture legitimating
the structures and seeking to contain the discontents of the exploited
classes.
Can we speak of social change within this system? Yes and no. As
with any system, the social processes fuctuate constantly, in ways we
C explicate. P a result the system has cyclical rhythms that C b ob
served and measured. Since such rhythms by definition always involve
two phases, we can, if we want, suggest that there is a change each time
the curve rounds the bend. But in fct we are here dealing with pro
cesses that are essentially repetitive in broad outine and that thereby
defne the contours of the system. Nothing, however, ever repeats it
self exacty. And even more important, the mechanisms of "returning to
1 30 SOCI AL CHANGE?
equilibrium" involve constant changes in systemic parameters that can
themselve be charted and that thereupon describe secular trends of the
system over time. An example in the case of the modern world-system
is the process of proletarianization, which has fllowed a slow secular
upward trend for five centuries. Such trends provide constant quantita
tive increments that are measurable, but (old question) we still need to
ask at what point such quantitative increments add up to a qualitative
change. The answer must surely be: not as long as the system continues
to function by the same basic rules. But of course sooner or later this
ceases to be true, and at that point we can say that such secular trends
have prepared the third phase, that of demise.
What we have described as secular trends are essentially vectors mov
ing the system away fom its basic equilibrium. trends, if quantified
as percentages, move toward an asymptote. When they approach it, it is
no longer possible to increase the percentage signifi cantly, and therefore
the process no longer is able to fulfll the fnction of restoring thereby
the equilibria. As the system moves further and further fom equilib
rium, the fluctuations become ever wilder, and eventually a
occurs. You will notice that I am here applying the model Prigog
n_d .o.thers w_lo e e.1;:-.procsses .he_explan!..on
c!! e!." QJd.etermine.d.radica-transfrratoisTh
;
._(J-that
the processes of the univ
_:..p
li_cble .;t
-
ely orderly w-
:de;
_
)
!
?
.
.
9
st interesting
.
contribution. to _
leage
of the natura sciences in the iecides ...I-:--::.'i"radical.revi
sionfne dominant scientifc views that had previously prevailed in the
modern world. It is also, may I say, the most hopefl reaffrmation of
the possibility of creativity in the universe, including of course human
creativity.
I believe that we are involved right now in a transfrmational period
of the kind I have been describing in our modern world-system.3 One
can argue that there are a series of developments that have undermined
the basic structures of the capitalist world-economy and therefre have
created a crisis situation. The first is the deruralization of the world. To
be sure, this has been regularly hailed a triumph of modernity. We no
longer need so many people to provide basic subsistence. We can move
beyond what Marx scorned as the "idiocy of rural life," a value judgment
that is widely shared beyond the confines of Marxists. But seen fom
the vantage point of the endless accumulation of capital, this develop
ment means the end of a previously seemingly inexhaustible reservoir of
SOCIAL CHANGE? 131
persons, a portion of whom could periodicaly be brought into market
oriented production at extremely low levels of remuneration (to restore
global proft levels by baancing the greater incomes of their predeces
sors whose syndical action had resulted in raising their historic level
of wages). This shifing pool of workers at the bottom who are paid
marginal sums has been a major element in worldwide proft levels for
fve centuries. But no particular group of workers remained m such a
category fr too long, and the pool had to be regularly renewed. The
deruralization of the world makes this virtually impossible. This is a
good example of a trend reaching an asymptote.
The second such trend is the escaating social costs of permitting
enterprises to externalize their costs. Externalizing costs (that is, making
the collective world society pay in efect for a signifcant part of a frm's
costs of production) has been a second major element in maintaining
high proft levels and therefore ensuring the endless accumulation of
capital. As long as the cumulative costs seemed low enough, no attention
was paid. But suddenly they are too high, and the result is the worldwide
concern with ecology. The fact is that to many trees have ben cut
down. The costs of repairing the ecological damage are enormous. Who
will pay them? Even if the repair costs are spread among all persons
(however unfair this might be), the problem would recur immediately
unless governments insisted that frms internalize al costs. But if they
did this, proft margins would ctapult downward.
The third trend is the consequence of the democratization of the
world-system, itslf a result of the geoculture that legitimated this pres
sure as an essential element of political stabilization. It has now come
to the point that these popular demands have become very expensive.
Meeting what are the current social expectations of a large portion of
humanity for adequate educational and health expenditures is begin
ning to take a major bite out of the total of world surplus-value. Such
expenditures are in fact a frm of social wage, returning to the produc
ing classes a signifcant share of the surplus-value. This had been largely
mediated via the state structures, as social welfare programs. We are wit
nessing today a major political battle about the size of the bill Either
the bill is cut (but is this compatible wit? political stability?) or once
again the profit margins will be cut, and in no small amounts.
Finally, there is the collapse of the Old Lef, of what I call the
traditional antisystemic movements. This is in fact not a plus fr the
capitalist system, but its greatest danger. De fcto, the traditional move-
132 SOCIAL CHANGE?
men ts served as a guarantee for the existing system, in that they assured
the world's dangerous classes that the fture was theirs, that a more
egalitarian world was on the horizon (if not for them, then for their
children), and thereby these movements legitimated both optimism and
patience. In the last twenty years, popular faith in these movements (in
all their varieties) has disintegrated, which means that their ability to
canalize angers has disappeared with them. Since all these movements
had in fct preached the virtues of strengthening the state structures (in
order to transform the system), faith in such reformist states has also
declined radicaly. This is the last thing that defenders of the present
system really want, despite their anti-state rhetoric. Accumulators of
capital in fct count on the state both to guarantee economic monop
olies and to repress "anarchistic" tendencies of the dangerous classes.
We are seeing today a decline in the strength of state structures every
where in the world, which means rising insecurity and the rise of ad hoc
defensive structures. Analytically, this is the road back to feudalism.
In such a scenario, what can we say about social change? We can say
that we are once again seeing the demise of a historical system, par
allel to the demise of Europe's feudal system fve to six hundred years
ago. What will therefore happen? The answer is we cannot know for
sure. We are in a systemic bifurcation, which means tat very small ac
tions by groups here and there may shift the vectors and the institutional
forms in radically different directions. Structurally, can we say that we
are in the midst of fundamental change? We cannot even sy that. We
can assert that it is unlikely that the present historical system will last
too much longer (perhaps fifty years at most). But what will replace it?
It could be another structure that is basically similar, or it could be a
structure that is radically different. It could be a single structure over
all of the same geographic area. Or it could be multiple structures in
different zones of the globe. As analysts, we will not be sure until it is
over. As participants in the real world, we can of course do whatever we
think wise to achieve the good society.
What I have offered here is a model with which to approach the analy
sis of a particular historical system in terms of social change, illustrating
the issues by an analysis of the moern world-system. When a histor
ical system is in genesis or demise (the demise of one is always the
genesis of one or more others), we may designate it 3 social ch
nge
if the category of historical system that existed is replaced by a dif-
SOCIAL CHANGE? 1 33
ferent category of historical system. This i s what occurred in western
Europe when fudalism was replaced by capitalism. But it is not social
change if it is replaced by the same kind of historical system. This is
what happened when the Ming Chinese world-empire was replaced by
the Manchu world-empire. They were different in many ways, but not
in their essential form. We are going through such a process of systemic
transformation right now in the modern worldwde world-system, and
we do not know yet whether this involves a fundamental social change
or not.
This alterative model of analyzing the concept of social change
allows us to see that, when we are analyzing an ongoing functioning
historical system, the language of social change can be very deceptive.
The details keep evolving, but the qualities that defne the system re
main the same. If we are concerned with fundamental social change,
we have to try to discern and distinguish the secular trends from the
cyclical rhythms, and estimate how long the secular trends can con
tinue to cumulate quantitatively without endangering the underlying
equilibria.
Furthermore, when we turn our attention fom the analysis of partic
ular historical systems to the collective history of humanity on the earth,
there is no reason whatsoever to OMum a linear trend. Thus far, in the
known history of humanity, any such calculations give quite ambigu
ous results and justify a great skepticism about any theory of progress.
Perhaps, with much greater depth of vision, social scientists in the year
A. n. 20,000 may be able to argue that global secular trends have al
ways existed, despite all the cyclical rhythms that the constant shifting
from one st of historical systems to other sets seemed to belie. Per
haps. In the meantime, it seems far safer to me to take the intellectual
and moral stance that progress may be possible, but it is by no means
inevitable. My own reading of the past fve hundred years leads me to
doubt that our modern world-system is an instance of substantial moral
progress and to believe that it is more probably an instance of moral re
gression. That does not render me innately pessimistc about the fture,
just sober.
We are faced today, as we have been faced at other points of the
demise of historical systems, with historic choices in which our indi
vidual and collective inputs will make a real difference in terms of the
outcome. Today's moment of choice is, however, in one way different
than previous such moments. It is the frst one in which the entire
1 34 SOCIAL CHANGE?
globe is implicated, since the historical system in which we live is the
first one that encompasses the entire globe. Historic choices are moral
choices, but they can be illuminated by the rational analyses of social
scientists, which thus becomes the defnition of our intellectual and
moral responsibility. I am moderately optimistic that we shall rise to
the challenge.
| |
Te World of Knowledge
Chuter
Social Science and
Contemporary Society
The Vanishing Guarantees of Rational ity
What is "politics" fr the productive class becomes "rationality" for the
intellectual class. What is strange is that some Marxists blieve "ratio
nality" to be superior to "politics," ideological abstraction superior to
economic concreteness.
A1otoLaAmsct,Prison Notebooks
It is not only that intellectuals transformed politics into rationality but

that this proclamation of the virtue of rationality constituted an ex
pression of optimism on their part and served to fel the optimism of
everyone else. Their credo was: as we proceed toward a truer under
standing of the real world, we proceed thereby to a better governance
of the real society, ergo toward a greater fulfllment of human poten
tial. Social science as a mode of constructing knowledge was not merely
built on this premise; it offered itslf as the surest metho of realizing
the rational quest.
It was not always thus. Once, social thought was dominated by a
pervasive mundane pessimism. The social world was seen as unequal
and imperfect and would always, it was believed, remain so. Augustine's
bleak view that we are all irremediably marked by original sin dominated
much of the history of Christian Europe. No doubt, by world standards,
this was an unusually harsh chronosophy. However, even other more
stoic visions, indeed even the more Dionysian visions, offered few guar
antees for the fture. The Buddhist quest fr nirvana seemed a very long
Inaugural address, International Colloquium of the Italian Association of Sociology, Palermo, Oc
tober 26-28, 1995. The theme of the meeting was "The University and the Social Sciences: New
Paths to Public Rationality."
1 37
1 38 SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
and difGcuIt path, to b achievedbyveryfew, aboutthe same number
whomightachievethe Christian questfrsainthood.
f
ye,nodern.wasoongcelebrateditseIf, commenqeditsyl
on the "modernity" of its U'ltanschauung, ;t isec)usprIaimeda
chro
nosophythatwassyrIiy
sti,The so-
cialvor1_hoveveLad, couId bemade better, and
madebetter fr
everyoc Thefaith in ihe psibibo1
i tteet hasbetna
Ldrockofmodernity.ltwasnotargued,itshouIdbe emphasized, that
theindividuaIwouIdnecessariIybecomemoraIIybetter.lndividuaIover-
comingofsinmIness,anancientreIigiousquest,remainedsubjecttothe
judgment (and grace) ofOod.ltsvahdation anditsrewardwere other-
worIdIy.The modernworldhasbeenresolutelythis-worId!y.Vhatever
it promiseds to b vaIiated +-r htand shortIy. lts
quest was in fct resoIuteIy materiaIist in that it promised economic
improvement,uItimateIyonceagainforeveryone.ltsnonmateriaIprom-
ises, ensconcedintheconceptofIiberty,wereaIIuItimateIytransIatabIe
into materiaIbeneGts, and supposed Iibrties thatwerenottransIatabIe
in thiswaywereusuaIIydenounced asfIse Iiberties.
IinIy,we mustnoticehowcoIIectivistthepromiseofmodernityhas
been. The phiIosophers and the sociaI scientists ofthemodernworId
have taIked so incessantIy about the centraIity ofthe individuaIinthis
modern worId thatwehavefiIedto observe the degree towhichthe
modernworIdproducedthenrstgenuineIycoIIectivistgeocuIfureinhis-
tory, inthat it produced theGrstgenuineIyworkaday egaIitarian sociaI
vision. Ve have aII been promisedthatourhistoricaI system wiIIone
day achieve a sociaIorderinwhich everyone wiII enyy adequate, ergo
roughIy equaI, materiaIcomfrts, and inwhich no onewiIIhaveprivi-
Iegesthatothersdonothave. Ofcourse, lamtaIkingonIyofpromises,
notofreaIities.StiII,nophiIosopherinmedievaIEuropeorT'angChina
orintheAbbassidCaIiphatepredictedthatonedayeveryone onearth
wouIdbemateriaIIyweIIo0andthatpriviIegewouIddisappear.Ppre-
viousphiIosophies assumedthe inevitabiIityofhierarchies and,bythis
fct, rejectedearthIycoIIectivism.
lf,therefre,wearetounderstandthecurrentdiIemmas ofourhis-
toricaIsystem,thecapitaIistworId-economy,andifwearetounderstand
why, in my view, the concept ofrationaIity is tasting so sour in our
mouths, l beIieve we must start hom the awareness of the degree to
whichmodernityhasbeenjustiGedonmateriaIistandcoIIectivistprem-
ises. Ior, of course, it was totaIIy seIf-contradictory to do this. The
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY 1 39
raisond'treofthe capitalistworld-economy, its motorfrce, has been
theceaselessaccumulationofcapital.Andtheceaselessaccumulationof
capital is totallyincompatible with these materialist, collectivistprom-
ises,becauseitisbased ontheappropriation of surplus-valuebysome
Fom others. Capitalism represents material reward fr some, but in
orderthatitbe so, itcanneverbematerialrewardfreveryone.
Ve know, associalscientists,thatoneofthemostuitful routes of
analyzmgsocialrealityistofcusonacentraldescriptive anomaly and
askwhyitexistswhatexplainsitandwhatareitsconsequences.That
iswhatlproposetodohere.lshalldiscusswhythephilosophersofthe
modern world havemadeunfmablepromisestoitsparticipants,why
these pro;niseswere fr alongtime trustedbut no longer trusted,
andwhataretheconsequencesofthisdisnlusionment.Andlastlylshall
trytoassesstheimplicationsofallofthisfrusas socialscientists,that
is,as proponents ,ifnotalwayspractitioners) ofhumanrationahty.
Modernity and Rationality
!tisacommonplaceofsocialsciencetoobservethelinkbetweentherise
ofacapitalistworld-system andthe development ofscience and tech-
nology. 8utwhyhavethetwobeenhistoricaIlylinked?To thisquestion,
bothMarxandVeber,andindeedmostothers)haveansweredthatcap-
italistshadtobe"rational"iftheyweretoachievetheirprimeobjective,
which is maximizingproGt.TotheextentthatcapitalistsconcentratealI
theirenergieson this objectivebforeothers,theywdIdowhattheycan
toreducecostsofproductionandproducethekindofproductthatwlI
attractbuyers,andthismeansapplyingrationalmethodsnotonlytothe
processes of production but also to the administration of their enter-
prise. Hence,theyGndtechnologicaladvances ofeverykind extremely
useFul to them and lend their weight to encouraging the underlying
development of science.
odoubtthisistrue,butitseemstometo explainratherlittle.Ve
mayassumethatpersonswishingR engageinproGt-makingenterprises
andpersonscapableofscientiGcadvanceshaveexisted,innottoodier-
entaproportion,inallma|orzones ofhumanlife,andfrthousandsof
years at least. Thewhole monumentalcorpusof|osepheedham,Sci
ence and Civilization in China, demonstratestheextensiveachievements
ofscientinc dfort inthe Chinese culture-zone.Andwe knowingreat
detailhowintensiveandcommercializedwasChineseeconomicactivity.
This is of coursethenthe classicquestion,VhytheVest?! donot
proposetodiscussthisquestiononemoretime.Manyhavedoneso,and
! havedone so myself. ' ! wouldsimplynote herethatit seems to me
quiteobvious thatthecrucialdifference is that, in themodernworld-
system, there existed clearrewards mrtechnological advance, andthat
what accounts mrthis difference is not theattitude of entrepreneurs,
whohadaIways hadobviousmotivesforrewardinginventorsandinno-
vators, butratherthe attitude ofpoIiticaIIeaders,whosemotives were
aIways far more mixed and whose periodic hostiIity to technoIogicaI
change had constituted the ma|orinhibition in other pIaces and times
mrthe kind of scientinc revoIution that western Europe Iaunched in
the seventeenth century.
! drawthe very clear conclusion thatyou must have capitalism nrst
inordertomaketechnologicalinnovationcentral, ratherthantheother
way around. This is imprtant because it is a clue to the realities of
powerrelationships. Modernscienceis thechildof capitalism andhas
beendependentupon it. Scientistsreceivedsocialsanctionandsupport
becausetheyofferedtheprospectofconcreteimprovementsinthe real
worldwonderFl machinerythatwould foster productivity and re-
ducetheconstraintsthattimeandspaceseemedto impose, andgreater
comfort mr everyone. Science worked.
Awhole worldviewwas created to surround this scientinc activity.
Scientistsweresaidtobe, ad|uredtobe, "disinterested."Scientistswere
said tobe, ad|uredtobe, "empiricaI."Scientistsweresaidtobe,ad|ured
tobe, insearchof"universaI"truths. Scientistsweresaidtobe,ad|ured
tobe,thediscoverersofthe"simpIe."TheywerecaIIedupontoanaIyze
compIexreaIitiesandestabIishthesimpIe,thesimpIest,underIyingruIes
governingthem. And nnally, perhaps most important ofall, scientists
were said to be, ad|ured to be, uncoverers of efncient causes and not
ofGnalcauses. Iurthermore,allthesedescriptionsandad|unctionswere
said to mrm apackage, theyhadto b takentogether.
The scientiGc ethos was of course mythical insofr as it pretended
to describe fuly andtrulywhatscientistsactually did.Ve have but to
refertoStevenShapin'slovelystudy,A Social Hitory o Truth, 2 torealize
how central social prestige and extrascientinc authoritywere in estab-
lishingthecredentialsand scientinccredibilityoftheRoyal Societyof
London intheseventeenthcentury. !twas,she notes,thecredibility
SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY 141
of gentlemen, based on trust, civility, honor, and integrity. onethe-
less, science, empirical science, indeed ewtonian mechanics-as it
wastheorized becamethemodelofintellectualactivitytowhichan-
alysts ofthe socialworldwouldrepair, the modeltheywouldby and
large aspire to copythereaer.' And it was thisgentlemanlyscientinc
ethosthatthe modernworldwouldcometo insistwastheonlypossible
meaningofrationality, andthatbecameandhasremainedtheleitmotiv
of its inteIIectuaI cIass.
Vhat, however, does rationaIitymean?Thereis a ma|ordiscussion
ofthis issue, we|Iknown toaIIsocioIogists.lt is the discussionfund
inVeber'sEconomy and Society.4 VeberhastwopairsofdeGnitionsof
rationaIit. The G rst is fund in his typoIogy of fur types of sociaI
action. Two ofthese fur types are deemed rational. the "instrumen-
tally rational (zweckrational)" and the "value-rational ( wertrational)."
Thesecondisfundinhis discussionofeconomicaction, inwhichhe
distinguishes between "frmal" and"substantive" rationality. Thetwo
antinomies are almostthe same, but not quite, not at leastit seemsto
me) in their connotations.
Allowme to quote at somelengthhomVeber in order to discuss
thisquestion.Veber'sdennitionofinstrumentallyrationalsocialaction
is action that is "determinedbyexpectations as to the behavior ofob-
|ectsintheenvironmentandofotherhumanbeings,theseexpectations
are usedas'condiuons'or'means' frtheattainmentoftheactor'sown
rationallypursued andcalculated ends" (1:24). His dennition ofvaIue-
rationaIsociaIactionisactionthatis"determinedbybeIiefinthevaIue
fr its own sake of some ethicaI, aesthetic, reIigious, or otherfrm of
behavior, independentIyofitsprospectofsuccess"(1:24-25).
Veberthenproceeds to eIaborate thesedeGnitions with morecon-
crete examples.
Examples of pure value-rational orientation would be the actions of
persons who, regardless of possible cost to themselves, act to put into
practice their convictions of what seems to them to be required by duty,
honor, the pursuit of beauty, a religious call, personal loyalty, or the
importance of some "cause" no matter in what it consists. In our termi
nology, value-rational action aways involves "commands" or "demands"
which, in the actor's opinion, are binding on him. It is only in cases
where human action is motivated by the flfllment of such uncondi
tional demands that it w be called value-rational. This is the case in
widely varying degrees,. but for the most part only to a relatively slight
142 SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
extent. Nevertheless, it will be shown that the occurrence of this mode
of action is important enough to justfy its frmulation as a distinct type;
though it may be remarked that there is no intention here of attempting
to frmulate in any sense an exhaustive classifcation of types of action.
Action is instrumentally rational (zweckrational) when the end, the
means, and the secondary results are all rationally taken into account and
weighed. This involves rational consideration of alternative means to the
end, of the relations of the end to the secondary consequences, and fi
nally of the relative importance of diferent possible ends. Determination
of action either in affectual or in traditional terms is thus incompatible
with this type. Choice between alterative and conflicting ends and re
sults may well be determined in a value-rational manner. In that case,
action is instrumentally rational only in respect to the choice of means.
On the other hand, the actor may, instead of deciding between alterna
tive and conficting ends in terms of a rational orientation to a system of
values, simply take them as given subjctive wants and arrange them in
a scle of consciously assessed relative urgency. He may then orient his
action to this scle in such a way that they are satisfed far as pos
sible in order of urgency, as frmulated in the principle of "marginal
utility." Vaue-rational action may thus have various different relations
to the instrumentally rational action. From the latter point of view, how
ever, value-rationality is always irrational. Indeed, the more the value to
which action is oriented is elevated to the status of an absolute value,
the more "irrational" in this sense the -corresponding action is. For, the
more unconditionaly the actor devotes himself to this value for its own
sake, to pure sentiment or beauty, to absolute goodness or devotion to
duty, the less is he influenced by considerations of the consequences of
his action. The orientation of action wholly to the rational achievement
of ends without relation to fndamental values is, to be sure, essentially
only a limiting case. (1:25-26)
owIetustumtoVeber'sotherdistinction,whichI againquoteinmII.
The term "frmal rationality of economic action" will be used to des
ignate the extent of quantitative clculation or accounting which is
techniclly possible and which is actualy applied. The "substantive ra
tionality," on the other hand, is the degree to which the provisioning
of given groups of persons (no matter how delimited) with goods is
shaped by economicaly oriented social action under some criterion (past,
present, or potential) of ultimate values (wertene Postlate), regardless
of the nature of these ends. These may be of a great variety.
1. The terminology suggested abve is thought of merely as a means
of securing greater consistency in the use of the word "rational" in this
field. It is actually only a more precise frm of the meanings which are
continually recurring in the discussion of "rationalization" and of the
economic calculus in money and in kind.
2. A system of economic activity will be called "formally" rational ac
cording to the degree in which the provision fr needs, which is essential
to every rational economy, is capable of being exressed in numericl,
calculable terms, and is so expressed. In the first instance, it is quite
independent of the technicl frm thes clculations take, particularly
whether estimates are expressed in money or in kind. The concept is thus
unambiguous, at least in the sense that exression in money term yields
the highest degree of frmal calculability. Naturally, even this is true only
relatively, so long as other things are equal.
3. The concept of "substantive rationality," on the other hand, is full
of ambiguities. h conveys only one element common to al "substan
tive" analyses: namely, that they do not restrict themselves to note the
purely frmal and (relatively) unambiguous fact that action is based on
"goal-oriented" rational clculation with the techniclly most adequate
available methods, but apply certain criteria of ultimate ends, whether
they be ethical, politicl, utilitarian, hedonistic, feudal (stindisch), egal
itarian, or whatever, and measure the results of the economic action,
however frmally "rational" in the sense of correct calculation they may
be, against these scales of "value-rationality" or "substantive goal ratio
nality." There is an infinite number of possible value scales fr this type
of rationality, of which the socialist and communist standards consti
tute only one group. The latter, although by no means unambiguous in
themselves, always involve elements of social justice and equality. Others
are criteria of status distinctions, or of the capacity for pwer, especially
of the war capacity, of a political unit these and many others are of
potential "substantive" significance. These points of view are, however,
signifcant only as bases from which to judge the outcome of economic
action. In addition and quite independently, it is possible to judge fom
an ethicai ascetic, or aesthetic point of view the spirit of economic activ
ity ( Wirtschafsgesinnung) as well as the instruments of economic activity.
P of these approaches may consider the "purely frmal" rationality of
calculation in monetary terms as of quite secondary importance or even
as fundamentally inimicl to their respective ultimate ends, even before
anything has been said about the consequences of the specifcally modern
clculating attitude. There is no question i
n
this discussion of attempt
ing value judgments in this field, but only of determining and delimiting
what is to be called "frmal." In this context the concept "substantive" is
itself in a certain sense "frmal"; that is, it is an abstract generic concept.
(1: 85-86)
144 SOCIAL SCIENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCIETY
Vhen l y mat the connotations of the two pairs of distinctions
are not quite the same, l admit this is a highIy subjective interpreta-
tion.ltseemstomethatindistinguishinginstrumentaIIyrationaIsociaI
action hom vaIue-rationaI sociaI action, Veber suggests considerabIe
reservetowardtheIatter. HetaIksof"unconditionaIdemands."Here-
mindsus thathomthepointofviewofinstrumentmIyrationaI sociaI
action, "vaIue-rationaIity is aIways irrationaI." However, when he dis-
tinguishesfrmaI and substantive rationaIity, he seems to tiItthetone
theotherwy. SubstantiveIyrationaIanaIyses"donotrestrictthemseIves
to note thepureIyfrmaIand(reIativeIy) unambiguous fctthataction
is based on 'goaI-oriented' rationaI caIcuIation," but measure it against
some vaIue scaIe.
Ve couIddiscussthisinconsistencyasanissueintheambivaIenceof
Veber's position on theroIe ofthe inteIIectuaI in the modernworId.
8utthatisnotmyinteresthere.lbeIieveratherthattheambivaIenceor
ambiguityofthedistinctionisbuiItintoourmodernworId'sgeocuIture.
lt comes backtothequotehom Oramsci thatl used asanepigraph to
thisdiscussion.Vhen Oramsci saysthatwhattheproductivecIasscal!s
poIiticaItheinteIIectuaIcIass renames rationaI, he ispointingpreciseIy
to this hndamentaI ambiguity. 8ycaIIing the "poIiticaI" the "rationaI,"
arewe notimpIyingthat issues ofsubstantiverationalityshouIdbeput
in the background sothat issues offrmaI rationaIitywiIIbe the onIy
onesthat remainunderdiscussion?Andifbg is this not because issues
offrmaIrationaIityinfactinvoIveunadmittedbutquitecIearcommit-
mentstovaIue-rationaIsociaIactionofaparticuIarkind,thekindthat
takesconicting ends, inVeber'swords, "asgivensubjectivewantsand
arrangejs]them inascaIe ofconsciousIyassessedreIative urgency"?As
Veberpoints out,thisiswhattheprincipIeofmarginaIutiIityisabout.
Todecide,however,whatis marginaIIy usehI, onemustdesign ascaIe.
HewhodesignsthescaIedeterminestheoutcome.
Rationality and the Dangerous Classes
To taIk of rationaIity is to obscure the poIiticaI, the vaIue-rationaI
choices, andtotiIttheprocess againstthe demands ofsubstantive ra-
tionaIity.Iromthesxteenthtotheeighteenthcenturies,theinteIIectuaI
cIassescouIdstiIIbeIievethat,inpressingthecIaimsofrationaIity, their
primary enemy was medievaIcIericaI obscurantism. Their sIogan was
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY 145
the one shouted Ioud and cIear by VoItaire, "Ecrasez I'infme." The
Irench RevoIution changedaII that because it transfrmed andcIari-
Ged the terms oftheworId cuIturaI debate.TheIrenchRevoIution,l
haveIongargued,` didIess to changeIrance than itdidto change the
worId-system
ltwasthedirectcauseofestabIishingaviabIeanddurabIe
geocuIture within the worId-system, one ofwhose consequences (and
not the Ieast) was thatitIed to the institutionaIization ofsomething
caIIed the sociaI sciences.Ve come therefore to the heart ofwhat we
are discussing.
The Irench RevoIution and its apoIeonic aftermath spread two
beIiefs that became pervasive intheworId-system and that have dom-
inatedmentaIities ever since,notwithstandingtheferociousopposition
ofsomeverypwerfuIfrces.ThesebeIiefsare(1) thatpoIiticaIchange
is continuous and normaI, that is, the norm, and (2) that sovereignty
resides in the "peopIe." either of these beIiefs was widespread be-
fre1789, andbothhavenourishedsince,persistingtothisdaydespite
theirmanyambiguities and mishaps. TheprobIemwiththesetwobe-
Iiefs is that they are avaiIabIe as arguments toeveryone, andnotonIy
to those who have pwer, authority, and/or sociaI prestige. They can
indeedbeusedbythe"dangerouscIasses,"aconceptthatcameinto ex-
istencepreciseIyintheearIynineteenthcenturytodescribepersonsand
groups who hadneitherpwer, nor authority, norsociaIprestige, but
weremakingpoIiticaIcIaimsnonetheIess.Thesewerethe growing ur-
banproIetariat ofwestern Europe, thedispIaced peasants, the artisans
threatenedbyexpandedmachineproduction,andthemarginaImigrants
homcuIturaIzonesotherthantheoneintowhichtheyhadmigrated.
TherobIems of sociaI adjustment of such groups and the conse-
quentsociaIturmoiI are fmiIiar ones to socioIogists andothersociaI
historians, ones we have Iong treated in our Iiterature. 8utwhat has
thistodowiththeconceptofrationaIity?Everything, infct!Thepo-
IiticaIprobIemposedbythe dangerous cIasseswas not, asweknow, a
minorone.AttheverymomentthatthecapitaIistworId-economywas
gettingintomIIswinginterms ofexpandedproductivityandmajorre-
ductions intheimpediments imposedbytime and space to therapid
accumuIationofcapitaI(aphenomenonwehaveIabeIedincorrectIythe
industriaI "revoIution," as though ithadjust started then), andjust as
thecapitaIistworId-economywasexpandingtocovertheentireterritory
ofthegIobe (a phenomenonwe have misIeadingIycaIIed the onset of
imperiaIism,asthoughitwere speciaI tothis era), just at this time the
dangerous classes were beginning to pose a most serious threat to the
politicalstabilityoftheworld-system ,aphenomenonwenolongerlike
to call theclassstruggle,butitwas one) .Vecan assumethatprivileged
strataarereasonablyintelligentandalertindefnseoftheirinterestsand
willnormmlyseekto meetemergingchallengeswithsophisticatedtools.
Thetoolsthistimewerethree.socialideologies, socialsciences,andso-
cialmovements. Eachmeritsdiscussion, though!shallconcentratemy
attention on the second.
lfpoliticalchangeisconsideredthenormandifsovereigntyiswidely
believedtoresideinthepeople,thequestionbecomeshowone ridesthe
tiger, or, to state this more academicay, how one manages the social
pressures so as to minimizeturmoil, disruption, and infctchangeit-
lf.Thisiswhereideologies comein. ldeologiesarepoliticalprograms
tomanage change.Thethreeprincipalideologiesofthe nineteenth and
twentieth centuries represent the three possibleways one can manage
change so as to minimize it. one can slow it down as much as possi-
ble, one cansearchfortheexactlyrightpace, andonecanspeeditup.
Ve have inventedvariouslabels forthesethreeprograms.Oneisright,
center, and left. The second ,a bit more expressive) is conservatism,
liberalism, and radicalism/socialism.VeknowthemwelI.
The conservativeprogram appealedtothevalue oflong-existing in-
stitutionsthefamily, the commumty, the Church, themonarchy-
as funts ofhuman wisdom and therefore as guides to political|udg-
ment as well as to codes of personalbehavior. Anyproposedchanges
in theways counseled bythese "traditional" structuresrequiredexcep-
tional|ustiGcationandshould, itwasargued,beapproachedwithgreat
prudence.Theradicals, onthecontrmy, blievedbasicallyinRousseau's
general will, incarnatingthe sovereigntyofthepeople, as the funt of
political|udgment. Political|udgments should, theyargued, renect such
general will and do so as rapidly as possible.The middle road, that of
theliberals,wasonethatbaseditscaseondoubtsabouttheeternalmer-
its ofexistingtraditional institutions, too sub| ectto theimperatives of
maintainingexistingprivilege,butequallyondoubtsaboutthevalidity
ofexpressionsofthe generalwill, too sub|ectto thevagaries ofimpul-
sive, short-term advantagesforthema| ority.Theycounseledremitting
|udgments to the experts, whowould carefullyassessthe rationalityof
existinginstitutionsandtherationalityofproposednewinstitutionsand
would come up with measured and appropriate refrms, that is, with
political changes at preciselytherightpace.
l shaII not here retrace the poIiticaI history of nineteenth-century
Europe orofthetwentieth-centuryworId.lwiIIrathersummarizethis
history in afew sentences. The IiberaI via media prevaiIedpoIiticalIy.
lts beIiefs became the geocuIture of the worId-system. lt estabIished
the frms ofthe statestructuresin the dominantstates ofthe worId-
system andthe modeItowardwhichotherstateswere, indeedstiIIare,
requiredto aspire. Most consequentiaIIy ofaII,IiberaIism tamed both
conservatismandradicaIism,transfrmingthem(atIeastbetween1848
and1968) fromideoIogicaIaItemativesintominorvariants, avatars,of
IiberaIism. Through theirthreefoIdpoIiticaIprogram ofuniversaI suf-
age,theweIfarestate,andthecreationofnationaIidentity(combined
withexternaIIyorientedracism),nineteenth-centuryIiberaIs e0ectiveIy
ended the menace of the dangerous cIasses in Europe. Twntieth-
century IiberaIs attempted a simiIar program to tame the dangerous
cIassesoftheThirdVorIdandseemedfraIongtimetobesucceeding
there as weII.6
The strategy of IiberaIism as a pIiticaI ideoIogy was to manage
change, and this required that it b done by the right persons and in
therightway. Thus, nrst,theIiberaIs hadto ensurethatthismanage-
ment be in the hands of competent persons. Since theybeIieved that
competencycouId beguaranteed neitherthrough seIectionbyheritage
(the conservative bias) nor through seIectionbypopuIarity(the radicaI
bias),theyturned to theonIyremainingpossibiIity, seIectionbymerit,
which of course meant turningto the inteIIectuaI cIass or at Ieast that
partofitthatwasreadytoconcentrateon"practicaI"matters.Thesec-
ondrequirementwasthatthesecompetentpersonsactnotonthebasis
ofacquiredpre|udicesbutratheronthebasisofpriorinfrmationabout
theprobabIeconsequencesofproposedrefrms. lnordersotoact,they
needed knowIedge about how the sociaI order reaIIy hnctioned, and
this meant that they needed research, and researchers. SociaI science
was absoIuteIycruciaIto theIiberaIenterprise.
The Iinkbetween IibraI ideoIogy andthe sociaI science enterprise
has been essentiaI and notmereIyexistentiaI. l am not saying simpIy
thatmostsociaIscientists were adherents ofIiberaI refrmism. This is
true, but minor. Vhat l d sayingis thatIiberaIism and sociaI science
werebasedonthesamepremise-thecertaintyofhumanperfectibility
basedontheabiIitytomanipuIatesociaIreIations,providedthatthisb
done scientincalIy(that is, rationaIIy). ltisnotmereIythattheyshared
thispremisebutthatneithercouIdhaveexistedwithoutit,andthatboth
148 SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
buiItitinto theirinstitutionaIstructures.The existentiaIaIIiancewas the
naturaIconsequenceoftheessentiaIidentity.Tobsure,I am not deny-
ing thattherewere sociaIscientistswhowere conservatives orradicaIs,
ofcoursethereweremanysuch. 8utaImostnoneofthemstrayedvery
far hom the centraI premise that rationaIity was the key to what we
soughtto do, and that itwas its own|ustiGcation.
VhatsociaI scientists did not do,byandIarge, was fce up to the
consequences ofthedistinctionbetweenfrmaIand substantive ratio-
naIity, and therefore to a cIearreexive awareness oftheir sociaI roIe.
However, as Iong as the sociaI worId mnctioned reasonabIy weII in
terms ofIiberaIideoIogy, thatis, as Iong as optimism prevaiIed about
the reaIityofsteady, even u uneven, progress, then these issues couId
bereIegatedto theperipheryoftheinteIIectuaIarena.I beIievethiswas
true even in the darkdays when the monsters of fscism achieved so
much pwer. Their strength shook up this fciIe fith in progress but
never realIy undid it.
Rationality and Its Discontents
I have chosen the titIe of this section with an aIIusion, ofcourse, to
SigmundIreud'simportantworkCivilization and Its Discontents.7 This
work is an important socioIogicaI statement, evenifthe essentiaI ex-
pIanationIreudoffers is statedinterms ofpsychoanaIytictheory. The
underIying probIem is statedsimpIybyIreud.
Life as we find it is too hard fr us; it entails too much pain, too
many disappointments, impossible tasks. We cannot do without palliative
remedies. We cannot dispense with auxiliary constructions, as Theodor
Fontane said. There are perhaps three of these means: pwerfl diver
sions of interest, which lead us to cre little abut our misery; substitutive
gratifications, which lessen it ad intoxicating substances, which make us
insensitive to it. Something of this kind is indispensable. (25)
8utwhyisitsohardforhumanstobehappy?IreudG ndsthreesources
of human suering.
namely, the superior frce of nature, the disposition to decay of our bod
ies, and the inadequacy of our methods of regulating human relations
in the family, the community and the state. In regard to the first two,
our judgment cannot hesitate: it frces us to recognize these sources of
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY 149
sufering and to submit to the inevitable. We shall never completely sub
due nature; our body, too, is an organism, itself a part of nature, and
will always contain the seeds of dissolution, with its limited powers of
adaptation and achievement. The effect of this recognition is in no way
disheartening; L the contrary, it points out the direction fr our efforts.
If we cannot abolish all sufering, yet a great deal of it we can, and can
mitigate more; the experience of several thousand years has convinced us
of this. To the third, the social source of our distresses, we take up a dif
ferent attitude. We prefer not to regard it as one at all; we cannot se why
the systems we have ourselves created should not rather ensure protection
and well-being fr us all. (43-44)
Havingsaidfhis, IreudfhenspeakshisforicaIIy. VrifinginfheI 92Os,
he renects upon fhe affifude faken foward fhe sociaI sources of our
disfresses and nofes fhaf an eIemenf of disappoinfmenf has enfered
the scene.
In the last generations man has made extraordinary strides in knowledge
of the natural sciences and technical applications of them, and has es
tablished his dominion over nature in a way never befre imagined. The
details of this frward progress are universally known: it is unnecessary
to enumerate them. Mankind is proud of its exploits and has a right
to b. But men are bginning to perceive that all this newly won pwer
over space and time, this conquest of the frces of nature, this flllment
of age-old longings, has not increased the amount of pleasure they can
obtain in life, has not made them any happier. (46)
Lef us see whafIreud is fel!ingus. PeopIe fry fo undo fhe sociaI
sources of fheir unhappiness because if seems fhe onIyfruIyfracfabIe
source, fhe onIy one fhey couId, fhey beIieve, fofaIIyeIiminafe. Ireud
does nof feII us if fhis percepfion is correcf, onIyfhaf if is fhe under-
sfandabIepercepfion. lhavesaidfhafIiberaIismoffered fhe dangerous
cIasses fhe hope fhaf, af Iasf, ifwouIdnowbepossibIefoeIiminafefhe
social sources of unhappiness. !t is nowonder that this assertion had
suchapositiveresponse.!tisnowonderthatconservatives andradicals
hadto ralIyaroundliberal themes. Iurthermore, liberals said thatthey
couldguaranteethissuccess,viathe spreadofrationality.Theypointed
to the clear
successes ofrationalityin the natural sciences and said it

wouldworkaswellinthe socialsciences.!twaswe,the socialscientists,
who made this guarantee.
Ireudalso saidthathumansprotectthemselves againstpaininthree
ways.diversion,substitutegratiGcations,andintoxication.Ve shouldat
theveryleastaskourselvesiftheguaranteesofrationality,thepromises
of a progress that was said to be certain, were not in reality a frm
of intoxicationthe opium ofthe masses said Marx, the opium of
the intellectualclassitselfretortedRaymondAron. PerhapsbothMarx
andAronwere right. And 6nallyIreud suggested thatperhaps, inhis
day, there were the beginnings of disappointmentwiththe palliative.
Afterall,intoxicantsusethemselvesup.Addictsrequirelargerandlarger
doses tohavethe sameeect.Thesideeectsbecome toogreat. Some
personsdieofthis,otherskickthehabit.
Ireudwthisbeginninginhisera. l see thishavinghappened to a
far Iarger extent in the I97Os and I98Os. As a resuIt, the survivors are
kicking the habitinaverybigway. Tounderstandthis,wehaveto re-
turnto thequestionofthe toolswithwhich thosewithpowermetthe
challenge of the dangerous classes. I said there were three such tools.
social ideologies, social science, and social movements. You mayper-
haps havewonderedhowI dared suggest that social movements were
a tool ofthoseinpwer, since by soial movements we normaLy mean
structuresthatopposethoseinpwer,evensometimesseektooverthrow
completelythebasicstructures thatsustainthoseinpwer.
This standard dennition of social movements is of course basically
correct. The antisystemic movements that came into existence in the
nineteenth century intheirtwoprincipalfrms-labor/socialistmove-
ments and nationalist movements-didopposethose in power and in
many cases did seekto overthrowcompletelythe basic structures that
sustained thoseinpower.onetheIess,overtime, thesemovementsbe-
cameoneofthekeymechanismsbywhichthestructuresofpowerwere
infactsustained. How did such a paradoxicaI resuIt come abut?The
answer is not conspiracy. in generaI, those in pwer did not pIan it
thus and did notcorruptthe Ieadership ofthese movements. o doubt
such conspiracies occasionally occurred, but they were not the basic
mechanism,theywerenotevenaveryimportantmechanism.Thetrue
explanation, as most sociologists normally contend abouteverything,is
structural.
Popularoppositionto those inpowerhas repeatedlytakenthefrm
of disruption, everywhere and throughout the history of the world.
Therehavebeenriots,strikes,rebellions.Almostallofthesehavebeen
spontaneous in the sense of there being some immediate situational
provocation but no priororganizationalbase. As a result,such disrup-
tions mayhaveresultedinameliorationoftheimmediateproblembut
SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY 1 51
didnotresultinanycontinuedsocialtransfrmation.Occasionally,such
oppositiontooktheform ofreligiousmovements, or morepreciselyof
dissidentreligiousviewsthatresultedinthecreationofsectsorordersor
otherongoingorganizationalstructures.Jhelonghistoryoftheworld's
ma|or religious communities has been one ofthe eventual absorption
ofsuch dissidentmovementsinto marginalbutstablestructuredroles
withinthelargerreligiouscommunities,whereupontheytendedtolose
mostoftheirsteamas expressionsofpoliticalopposition.
lnthepost-I789atmosphereofthenineteenthcentury, especiaIIyin
Europe,oppositionaImovementstookonmoresecuIargarb.TheworId-
system revoIutionofI 848was a ma| or turning-point. lt became cIear
inthedefeatthat popuIarfrces su0eredthatconspiratoriaI sectswere
not going to be veryefncacious. Vhat ensued was a ma| or sociaI in-
novation. Iorthe nrsttime,antisystemicforces madethe decision that
socialtransfrmation, ifitwere to come about, had to be planned and
therefore organized. Jhe victory of the Marxists over the Anarchists
within the socialist/labor movements and the victory of political over
culturalnationalists withinthevarious nationalistmovementswerevic-
tories ofthose who stood lorthe bureaucratization ofrevolution, that
is,thecreationofongoingorganizationsthatwouldpreparetheground
inmultiplewaysfrthegainingofpoliticalpwer.
Vhat ! am calling the bureaucratization of revolution had pwer-
arguments in its favor. Jhey were essentially three. One, those in
pwer would make signincant concessions onlyiftheywere frced to
do so bythethreatofworse. Two,those who were sociallyand politi-
caIIyweakcouIdbecome ane0ectivepoIiticaIlorceonIybyassembIing
theirfrceswithindiscipIinedorganizations.Three,thekeypoIiticaIin-
stitutionswerethestatestructures,whichweredaiIybecomingstronger,
andno signincanttransferofpowercouIdcomeaboutunIessitwasme-
diated by achange inthe nature andpersonnelofthe state structures.
!tseemstomehardtoarguewith anyofthethreepostulates,anditis
hardtoseethat,asofI848,antisystemicmovementshadanyaltenative
to the bureaucratization of revolution.
onetheless, it was a medicinewith fatal side e0ects. Onthe one
hand, the medicine worked. !n the IOO to I25 years thereater, the
political strength of these movements grew steadily, and the politi-
cal concessions o0ered to these movements grew accordingly. Jhey
achieved many, even most, oftheir short-run obyctives. On the other
hand,attheendofthisprocess,frargument'ssakeletussayasofI9o8,
152 SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
the situation seemedveryunsatisfctoryhomtheperspectiveofpopu-
larfrces. The inequalities intheworld-system seemedveryfar hom
havingbeenliquidated.lndeed,manyofthemseemedtobeworsethan
ever.Vhilefrmalparticipationinpoliticaldecisionmakingseemedto
haveincreasednotab|yforthemassofthepopulation,onlyasmallper-
centageofthemfeltthattheyhadanyrealpwer. AsIreudsaid,they
were disappointed.
Vhyshould this have been so? There is adownsidetothebureau-
cratization of revolution. One of them was documented a verylong
timeagobyanltaliansocialscientist,RobertoMichels,whenhespel|ed
out the ways in which the process ofbureaucratization of revolution
transformstheleadershipofthemovementsandindfectcorruptsand
def angs them. This nnding is now considered a commonplace socio-
logicaltruism.VhatMichels's analysis omittedwastheimpactofthe
bureaucratizationofrevo|utiononthefIlowers.This seemstomeeven
more important.
l believethis iswhereIreud's discussion ofintoxiGcation comes in.
8asicaIly, the antisystemicmovements intoxicated their members and
fllowers. Theyorganized them,mobilizedtheir energies, disciplined
theirlives, and structuredtheirthinkingprocesses. The intoxicantwas
hope, hope in the rational mture thatbeckonedbefre them, hope in
thenewworldthatthesemovementswouldconstructwhentheycame
topower.orwasthis|ustsimplehope, rather, itwas inevitablehope.
History, thatisOod,wasonthesideoftheoppressed-notintheaf-
terlife, but here and now, in the world inwhich they |ive or at |east
the one in which their children would |ive. One can see why, hom
the point of view of those in pwer, the socia|movements could be
described as a toolwithwhich to manage change. Aslongaspopular
angerswerechanneledviasocialmovements,theseangerscouldbelim-
ited. Thebureaucratizedmovemets became the interlocuteurs valables
of me defenders of privilege. These movements guaranteed in e0ect
therestraintoftheirfllowersagainstcertainkindsofconcessions, in-
cluding the socia| mobility ofthe leadership and its children. 8y the
twentieth century, it could be said thatthe onlythingthat effetive|y
stoodinthewayofreal revolutionswere the revolutionarymovements
themselves.Thisisnottosaythatthesemovementsdidnotbringabout
importantrefrms.Theydid.Vhattheydidnotdowastransfrmthe
system. 8ypostponing tothe Oreekcalends suchtransfrmation,they
became theguarantors ofsystemic stability.
Theworld revolution of I9o8 was when these popular masses be-
gan to kickthehabit. The popular antisystemic message was fr the
Grsttimeturnedagainsttheleadershipofthema|orantisystemicmove-
ments intheworld themselves-the social-democratic movements in
theVesternworld, Communist movements inthe bloc homthe Oder
to the Yalu, national liberation movements in Asia and Aica, pop-
ulistmovements inLatinAmerica. Kicking the habit is neveraneasy
task. !t took twentyyears fr the revolution of I9o8 to reach its cli-
max in I 989andfrpopular disiIIusionmentwithantisystemicforces
toovercomethelegacyofIoyaltyengenderedbypastindoctrination,but
eventu yit succeededinbreakingtheumbilicalcord.The processwas
aidedanabettedbytherealityofthefact,whichbecameclearin the
I97Osand I98Os,thatthe socialimprovementsofthe I945-7Operiod
had been a passing chimera,thatthe capitalist world-economy could
nevero erarealprospectofuniversalprosperitythatwouldovercome
theever-growinggap btween core andperiphery.'
Theresultofthisdisillusionmenthasbeentheturnagainstthestate,
sovisibleworldwideinthe 99Os. !tisbeingtoutedasthe turnto neo-
liberalism.8utitisinrealitytheturnagainstliberalismanditspromise
of salvation via social refrmism that would be implemented by the
states. !t is being touted as the return to individualism. !t is inreality
the resurgence of collectivism. !t is being touted as the return to op-
timism. !t is in reality a tum to a deep pessimism. Ireud's essay once
againoffers ushelpinunderstandingwhat has happened.
Human ht in communities only becomes possible when a number of
men unite together in strength superior to any single individual and re
main united against all single individuals. The strength of this united
party is then opposed as "Right" against the strength of any individ
ual, which is condemned as "brute frce. " The substitution of the power
of a united number fr the pwer of a single man is the decisive step
toward civilization. The essence of it les in the circumstance that the
members of the community have restricted their possibilities of gratifi
cation, whereas the individual recognized no such restriction. The first
requisite of culture, therefore, is justice -that is, the assurance that a
law once made will not be broken in favor'of any individual. This implies
nothing about the ethical value of any such law. The frther course of
cultural development seems to tend toward ensuring that the law shall no
longer represent the will of any small body -caste, tribe, section of the
populaton -which may behave like a predatory individual toward other
154 SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
such groups perhaps containing larger numbers. The end reult wod
b a state of law to which all -that is, who are capable of umt
ing -have contributed by making some sacrifce of their own desires,
and which leaves none -again with the same exception -at the mercy
of brute force.
The liberty of the indivdual is not a benefit of culture. It was greatet
before any culture, though indeed it had little value at that time, be
cause the individual was hardly in a position to defend it. Liberty has
undergone restrictions through the evolution of civilization, and justice
demands that these restrictions should apply to . The desire for free
dom that makes itself felt in a human community may be a revolt against
some existing injustice and so may prove favorable to a further devel
opment of civilization and remain compatible with it. But it may also
have its origin in the primitive rots of the personality, still unfettered
by civilizing infuences, and so become a source of antagonism to culture.
Thus the for freedom is directed either against particular demands of
culture or else against culture itself. (59-60)
Social Science and Substantive Rational ity
Today, theguaranteesthatrationaIityonce seemed to offer-guaran-
teesto thoseinpower,butguaranteesasweII,otherguarantees,tothose
whowereoppressed- seemtohavevanished.Vearefcedwiththe
"cryfrheedom."ltis acryfr fmedomhomthe reIentIess subordi-
nation to frmaIrationaIitythatmasks asubstantive irrationaIity. The
cryfrheedomisgrowing sostrongthatouressentiaIchoice,asIreud
said, iswhetheritis to be directedprimariIyonIyagainstparticuIar de-
mands ofcuIture ormore mndamentaIIy againstcuIture itseIf.Ve are
comingintoabIackperiod,whenthehorrorsof8osniaandLosAnge-
IeswiIIbemagninedandoccureveywhere.Ve arebeingpIacedbefre
ourresponsibiIities astheinteIIectuaIcIass. AndtheIastthingthatwl
b heIpmIistodenythepoIiticaIbydesignatingaparticuIarpoIiticsthe
rationaIandremsingtherebyto discussitsmeritsdirectIy.
SociaIsciencewasborn theinteIIectuaIpendantofIiberaIideoIogy.
b itremainsthis,itwiII die IiberaIismdies. SociaIsciencebuiItitself
upon the premise ofsociaI optimism. Canitnndsomethingto sayin
an erathatwiIIbemarkedbysociaIpessimism?lbeIievethatwe sociaI
scientists musttotaIIytransfrmourseIves orwe shaII become sociaIIy
irreIevant and reIegatedtosomeminorcornerofsomeminoracademy,
condemnedt owhiIe away our time i nmeaningIess rituaIs as the Iast
monksofafrgottengod.lbeIievethatthekeyeIementinoursurvivaI
isto retum the conceptofsubstantive rationaIityto the center ofour
inteIIectuaI concerns.
VhentherupturebetweenscienceandphiIosophybecamedennitive
atthe endofthe eighteenth andbeginningofthe nineteenthcenturies,
sociaIscienceprocIaimeditseIfscienceandnotphiIosophy.The|ustin-
cationofthisdepIorabIespIitofknowIedgeintotwohostiIecampswas
thatsciencewasdeemedtobe empiricaIinits search frtruthwhereas
phiIosophy was metaphysicaI, that is, specuIative. This was an absurd
distinction, since empiricaIknowIedgehasmetaphysicaIfundations
thatareinescapabIe, andnometaphysicsisworthconsidering unIess it
canbedemonstratedtospeaktothis-worIdIyreaIities,whichmeansthat
it must have empiricaI markers.lntheeffortto|ump out ofthehying
Q ofimposed,reveIedtruth,theinteIIectuaIcIass|umpedintothenre
ofthe mysticism offrmaIrationaIity.Ve didit, eventheMarxists,
as Oramsci remindedus.
Today,weare temptedto|ump backintheother direction, andwe
arebeingburned again. OisiIIusionmenthasgiven birth to howIing in-
teIIectuaI critics. They are makingverypowerfuI critiques about the
irrationaIityofthescientincenterprise.Muchofwhattheysayisvery
saIutary, but it is going fartoo far and threatens to end in a kind of
nihiIistic soIipsismthatwilI get us nowhere, andwilI shortIybegin to
boreevenitsmostardentadepts.onetheIess,wecannotwardofftheir
critiquesbyexposingtheirweaknesses.lfthatisthepathwe flIow,we
shaIIaIIcrashtogether. SociaIscience must insteadre-createitseIf.
lt must recognize that science is not and cannot be disinterested,
since scientists aresociaIIyrootedandcannomore escape theirminds
thantheirbodies.ltmustrecognizethatempiricismisnotinnocent,but
aIwayspresumessomeaprioricommitments.ltmustrecognizethatour
truthsarenotuniversaItruthsandthatifthereexistuniversaItruthsthey
arecompIex,contradictory, andpIuraI.ltmustrecognizethatscience is
notthesearchfrthesimpIe,butthesearchfrthemostpIausibIein-
terpretation ofthecompIex.ltmust recognize thatthe reasonwe are
interestedin efncientcausesisasmarkers on the roadtounderstanding
nnaIcauses.ltmustGnaIIyacceptthatrationaIityinvoIvesthechoiceof
amoraIpoIiticsandthattheroIeoftheinteIIectuaIcIassistoiIIuminate
the historicaIchoicesthatwe colIectiveIyhave.
VehavewandereddownfaIsepathsfrtwohundredyears.Vehave
1 56 SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND CONTEMPORARY SOCI ETY
misIedothers,butmostofaIIwe have misIedourseIves.Ve are inthe
process ofwriting ourseIves outside the reaI game of the struggIeto
achievehuman heedom andcoIIectiveweIfre.Vemust turnourseIves
around, uwe aretohaveanyhope ofheIpingeveryoneeIse (or indeed
anyoneeIse) toturntheworIdaround.Ve mustmostofaIIIower our
arrogancedecibeIs.Vemustdo aIIthesethingsbecause sociaI science
reaIIy does have something to o0 er theworId. Vhatthas to o0eris
thepossibiIityofappIyinghumaninteIIigencetohumanprobIems, and
therebytoachievinghumanpotentiaI,whichmaybeIessthanperfection
butis certainIymorethan humans haveachievedheretofore.
Chuter I0
Differentiation and Reconstruction
in the Social Sciences
Oierentiationisoneofthebasicconcepts inthesocioIogicaIarmory.lt
refersto presumedprocesswherebytasksthatwereatonepointseenas
singuIarortobedonebyasingIeperson and/orgroup are dividedsuch
thattheyareseen as multiple anddonebymorethanoneactor.!tis a
morphological concept andthus canbe appliedto anyGeld ofactivity.
!t is the process that results in adivisionoflabr.
On the one hand, it has been argued that one of the marked fea-
tures ofthe modernworldhasbeentheextentofits dierentiation. A
divsion of labor is said to be by deGnition more efG cient, and there-
mre to lead to increased collective productivity. Obvously, the more
dierentiation there is, the more specialized the roles that are played
by actors, and therefore the more room there is mr individuation,
ultimatelyresultingingreater(worldwide) heterogeneity.
On the other hand, it h been argued that, in the modern world,
we are moving hom Gemeinscha to Gesellschaf, thatwe are therefore
increasingIyspeaking a common conceptuaIIanguage and increasingIy
operatingbyasingIesetofpresumabIyrationaIvaIues, that everything
isbecomingmoreintegrated,uItimateIyresuItingingreater(worIdwide)
homogeneity.
So we are said tohavetwoprocesses, both Fndamental, movingin
directlyopposite directions.orisittotallyclearfromthese assertions
whatsubstantive valueweareto putonhomogeneityandheterogene-
ity. Vhichistobepref erred,forwhatends, andwhy?!tis notobvious
that either heterogeneity or homogeneity is inherently more efGcient.
orareweevenagreedontheempiricalevidenceas to the directionin
whichwe have benmoving.Therearemanyanalystswhohaveargued
Presentation at the International Soiological Association Research Council, 11ontreal, August 6,
1997.
1 57
1 58 DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES
fhaffhe modern worId has been one of increasing convergence (and
henceimpIicifIyharmony),whereasofheranaIysfshaveinsisfedfhaffhe
modernworId has ben one ofincreasing poIarizafion (and hence im-
pIicifIydeep conicf). ln fhis debafe, bofh sides seem fo be asserfing
fhafhomogeneifywouIdbebeffer,bufonesideseesifoccurringandfhe
ofherdoesnof. There are,however, aIsomanyanaIysfswhohavebeen
arguingfhafindividuaIs areheerhomsociaIconfroIfhan everbefore,
whereas ofher anaIysfs havebeen arguingfhafsociaIconfroI has never
been greafer (whefher in fhe frm of OrweII's /S4 orMarcuse's "re-
pressivefoIerance"). ln fhis debafe,bofh sidesseemfobeasserfingfhaf
nofhomogeneifybufheferogeneifywouIdbebeffer,bufone side seesif
occurring and fhe ofher does nof.
VhenwefurnfofheanaIysisoffhesfrucfuresofknowIedge,wennd
a sifuafionfhafis noffoodi0erenf hom fhe anaIysis offhepoIificaI
economy of fhe worId-sysfem. Ve have asserfions ofgreafer hefero-
geneify. Today, knowIedge is dividedinfo amuIfipIicifyofdiscipIines,
and each discipIine has an ever-Iengfhening Iisf of neIds of inferesf,
so-caIIed speciaIizafions. Yef our knowIedge sfrucfures seem fo fran-
scendmanydi0erencesofspaceandfime,andadenningcharacferisfic
of modern sfrucfures ofknowIedge has been fhe prominence, in facf
fhe dominance, offhe cIaim fo fhe exisfence of univerI knowIedge, a
cIaimfhafadmifsofnopossibIefheoreficaIvariafioninwhafconsfifufes
frufh. Here foo,wenndnoreaIconsensus aboufwhefherhomogeneify
orheferogeneifyisfhepreferredoufcome. lndeed, fheinfensifyoffhe
confemporaryso-caIIedsciencewarsandcuIfurewarsiscIearfesfimony
fofhedepfhofdivisionwifhinfheschoIarIyworIdonfhisvaIuafion.
LefusIookaffhelnfernafionaI SocioIogicaIAssociafion.lfifseIfis
fheproducfofaseveraI-cenfuries-Iongprocessofdifferenfiafion.Vhen
MachiaveIIi or Spinoza orevenMonfesquieuwrofefheirbooks, fhey
didnof caII fhemseIves socioIogisfs, indeed,fherewas no such concepf
as"socioIogisf."More,fherewasnofevenyefacIeardisfincfionbefween
suchbroadercafegoriesas"phiIosopher" and"scienfisf."ThisIafferdis-
fincfion, mndamenfaI fo fhe universifysysfemwe have creafedin fhe
Iasf fwo hundredyears, was inifiaIIy 3 invenfion based on fhe Carfe-
siananfinomyofhumansandnafure,onefhafbecamemIIycrysfaIIized
onIyinfheIafe eighfeenfh cenfury. The addifionaI concepfuaIcafegory
of sociaI science, as a fhird schoIarIy domain in befween science and
phiIosophy, orin universify| argon befween fhe fcuIfyofnafuraI sci-
ences andwhaf in someIanguages is caIIedfhe fcuIfyofhumanifies,
DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCI AL SCI ENCES 1 59
emerged only in the nineteenth century. And separate university de-
partments that distinguished amongvarious social sciences came into
existenceonlybetweentheI88Os and I945,aninstitutionalizationthat
was fuLy consummated inmanyparts ofthe world only in the I 95Os
and I9oOs.
Aslateasthe I95Os,nationalmeetings ofsociologists,aswellasthe
meetings ofthe !SA, were still intellectuallyuni6edevents of a small
number of scholars. To Frther its work, the !SA created Grst a sin-
gleall-encompassingresearchcommiffee,fhenseveralcommiffeeswifh
speciGcnames.TodaywehaveGffysuchresearchcommiffees,andmany
ofher appIicanfs knockingaf fhe doors. The sfory is repIicafed wifhin
mosfofournafionaIassociafions,afIeasffheIargerones.Thereisevery
reason fbeIieve fhaf fhe pressure forcreafing fhese speciaIized sfruc-
fures will confinue and may even accelerafe. And l should nof af all
be surprised to see these research committee structures, or specialized
groupings, themselves hactionate in turn. !s this evidence ofhealthy
division oflabr or ofcancerous growth?Ve knowfrom biology that
the line between the two models is thin, and the medical researchers
frtheirpartarenotyetabletoexplainexactlywhatturns oneintothe
other. Can we?
There is a Frther problem. !f, as we subdivided, the subgroupings
wereall,soto speak, isolationist, keepingtothemselves,wemighthave
an atmosphere that could be accused of being intellectually stunting,
but itwould atleastbeorganizationallyquite viable. 8ut this isnotat
all fhe case. The more divided we become, fhe more imperialisf each
subunifseems fo become. Once upon a fime, economisfs were in one
corner, socioIogisfsinanofher,andhisforiansinafhird.Theysawfhem-
seIves as consfifufing separafe, quifedi0erenf, discipIines, wifh cIearIy
deG nedanddisfincfive ob|ecfsofsfudy, and indeed ofmodes ofsfudy-
ingfhem. 8uffodayeconomists seek foexpIainhowFmiIiesfunction,
sociologists explain historical transfrmations, and historians explain
entrepreneurialstrategies.! o0erasimple test.Takethetitlesofpapers
listedintheprogramsofahalf-dozeninternationalsocial sciencecon-
gressesofdi0erentorganizations. Shufethetitles, andaskagroupof
socialscientitstoidentifyatwhichcongressthesepaperswereo0ered.
! haven't done this,butmyguess isthata 5Opercentcorrectresponse
wouldbeveryhigh. So we have incredible so-called overlap, whichis
sometimes dressed up as the spread of "interdisciplinarity." !s this an
instance ofefGciencyorofinefGciency?!thinkthesametestusingthe
papers offered at different research committees of!SA atitscongress
wouId show a simiIar dif6cuIty in identi6cation of the committee at
which theywere being offered, perhaps not quite as greatas the 6rst
testidentifying the so-caIIed discipIine.onetheIess,therewiIIcIearIy
be titIes that couId have been given at a haIf-dozen, if not a dozen,
difIerentresearchcommittees.
Vhat i sthe source ofthis homogeneity amid heterogeneity? One
simpIe,structuraIanswerissize.ThenumberofresearchersintheworId
today has grown enormously in the last nve hundred years, and geo-
metrically in the last mty years. This has in turn two organizational
expressions.Iirst,eachindividualresearcherisstillrequiredtoprovehis
orheroriginality. EachmustthereforeGndaniche,oranapproach,ora
reservedcorner, orsomething.Andtherejustdonotseemtobeenough
of these to go around. So poaching has become awidespread strategy
ofsurvivaI.However, onecanneveradmitthatoneispoaching,because
thatwouIdprove IackoforiginaIity. So everyoneinsiststhathisorher
particuIarvariant is signi6cantIy differentom everyone eIse'svariant.
Second, as the numberofresearchers grows, the sizeoftheirmeetings
grows and tends to become Iess manageabIe and Iess conducive to in-
teIIectuaIexchange. Hence,thereisasearchforgroupsthataresmaIIer
in size. One can achieve this in turn intwo ways. One is byeIite se-
Iection. And the second is by democratic subdivision. 8oth have been
occurring.The!SAresearchcommittees havesoughttobe aninstance
ofthe Iatter, but as theygrowin size, theymaydiscoverwithin them
new pressures fr elite seIection, IeadingtothecreationofeIite smaIIer
groups outside the research committees.
Youwillnotethat, thus fm, ! havenotexplained subdivisionbythe
overallaccumulationofknowledge.Thisisacommonexplanation.!tis
saidthatknowledgehasbecometoolargeforanysinglepersontohandle
(presumabIyunIikein earIiertimes), andhence requiresspeciaIization.
TheexpansionofcumuIatedknowIedgehasofcourseoccurred.!wish,
however, to register a certain skepticism that the increase is as great
as many assert. !t is to fciIe and seIf-serving an expIanation and is
seIf-contradictory. !ftheexistingknowIedgeinGeIdX issogreatthatit
requires speciaIizationinto7 andX_ who is abIe toknowthis, since no
onepresumabIycanhandIeaIIofx?Orifsome exceptionaIIyendowed
personcanknowthis,arewesayingthatthesubivisionsare tobethose
decreedvaIidbythis exceptionaIIyendowedperson?CIearIy, thisis not
howitworks.PeopIedivideintothespeciaIizationsandthen,onIythen,
DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCIAL SCI ENCES 1 61
tend to assert,withoutanyreal evidence, thatitwasnecessarybecause
ofthe growth ofknowledge overall.
Oiventhethinintellectual|usti6cationfrmuchofourso-calledspe-
cialization, there have been multiple responses. One is the defensive
one. the attempt to erect cumbersome theoretical and methodological
|usu6cationsmrtheautonomyofthespecialty,whetheritbe sociology
as awhole or some sub6eld) . A second is to go in the opposite direc-
tion and undertake a search for "transversal" themes. Yes, say some,
there mayweIl be di0erent zones of inquiry (say health, education,
religion, and so on), but there are common ways of analyzing these
Gelds (say rational choice or conict theory) . The transversalthemes
seek to be universalizing, hence homogenizing. 8ut in organizational
terms, far hom reducing the variety of names of subGelds, they tend
insteadlargelytoexpandthe numberofspecialized units and the over-
lap. The third responseisthe callfr somethingmore than transversal
themes, to call for synthesis. The proponents ofsynthesis often deni-
grate the reality and/or the importance ofthe specializations, and not
only within the disciplines, but among the social sciences, and even
wthin the world ofknowledge as a whole. 8ut, as in the case ofthe
transversal themes, whateverthe intellectual intent, the organizational
consequence is often merely the creation of one more specialization.
Scott Iitzgerald quipped, alreadyin the I92Os in The Great Gatsby,
aboutthatnarrowestof a specialists,thewell-roundedman.
Shallwe then|ust throw up our hands? Ve dare not, both fr or-
ganizationalandmrintellectual reasons. OrganizationaLy, thedrivefr
subivisionisgettingoutof hand. The Research Council oflSA, like
similarbodiesinotherinternationalandnationalorganizations,isbeset
by requests mr newgroups,which quite often seem to "overlap" with
existing groups. The new groups always insist that they are di0erent,
to which existinggroups often respond thatthe theme of the already
existing group encompasses the interests ofthe newapplicants. Orga-
nizationally, we are having turf battles, and it taxes the sagacity and
diplomatic skills ofthose making the decisions. As time goes by, this
can onlyget worse. Ve could ofcourse fml back on laissez-fire. any
group ofa speci6ed number ofpersons shaL be authorized to mrm a
research committee and theymaygiveitanytitle theychoose. Orwe
couldcreateamorphology,likethetableofchemicalelements,edicting
that only groups 6!Iing one ofthe emptyboxes would be acceptable.
In practice, wetryto fllowanintellectuallyill-de6ned middleground
1 62 DIFFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES
betweenthesetwopossiblepractices,butthatinturnhasgivenriseto
chargesofbureaucraticarbitrariness.Evenifunfair,suchchargescreate
organizational dissensus.
The mndamental issue is, however, not organizationalbut intellec-
tual.Areweontherightorganizationalpathintermsofthepossible,or
probable, intellectualconsequences?The questionis asoldasthecon-
ceptofeducation.oonedoubtsthateachofusstudiesonlyacorner
of the intellectual universe. And no one doubts that each ofus nnds
utilityin reading and/ortalkingto others who are studying the same
cornerornearbycorners. However,twothings aretobenoted imme-
diately. Iirst, corners resembleeach other as lociofresearch effrt. lt
is notmoreorless difhculttostudythemacroorthemicro.To study
the cosmologyofthe univer om the "big bang" to nowis as small,
oraslarge, acornerastostudythepatternsofconversationalexchange
on aplice emergencyphone.That is to say the macromicrodistinc-
tionhasnoimpactwhatsoeveronthe amountoftimeandenergy, and
prior training, it requires to studywell one's particular corner.Macro
is notbiggerthan micro as a researchpro|ect, it isbiggeronlyin the
spatiotemporaldeGnitionoftheboundaries ofthecornerunderstudy.
Second, there no simple schema that deGnes howwe may delimit
a corner ofthe intellectual universe. Or rather, there are innumerable
such schemas, and none has attained clearintellectualhegemonyover
the others.
Butthird,andperhapsmostimportant,theseschemascloseoutin-
tellectual issues |ust as much 3 they open them up. lt is not that
some schemas are nefrious and others virtuous. m a sense, aIl schol-
arly activity is a process of establishing schemas, andthereby closing
outaltemativesisinsome sensetheob|ectiveofallknowIedge.Ve seek
to demonstrate thatthings worklikethis and notlike that. Ve seek
todemonstratethatthiswayofatrainingknowledgeisbetterthanthat
wayofattainingknowledge. Ve seekto demonstratethatthiskind of
knowledge isbetterthanthatkindofknowledge.Ve alldothis.And
whenothersperceive ourrelative and momentary success,theysaywe
have developed aparadigm.
Vhen we nnd ourselves amidcompetingparadigms, proponents of
thestrongeronetendtoarguethatitistheonlypossibleone,andpro-
ponents of the weaker ones assertthatthey arebeingoppressed.The
latterequently make use of the argument ofthe relativism of para-
digms-allparadigmsareequallyvalid.Asideomthefctthatthisis
DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES 1 63
an argumenthomweakness,i ti s aIsoonenoonereIIybeIieves,Ieast
ofaIIthosewhomakethe argument. Oopostmodernists reaIIybeIieve
that positivism is simpIy another point ofview in aworId of endIess
perspectives?lfso,theyhaven'tmadethatverycIear.
l myseIfbeIievethatthere aremuItipIepossibIe paradigms, butthat
some are morevaIid,that is more usemI, than others. But thevaIidity
and utiIityofgiven paradigms are not eternaI, andthereforedominant
paradigms canneverrest onpastIaureIs. TheyshouId aIways take in-
teIIectuaIchaIIengesseriousIy andtheyneedtospendtimereexamining
basicpremises,intheIightofseriouscriticisms.Ofcourse,thekeyword
is "serious," and most defenders ofthe status quowiII assert that the
critics ar not serious. But in many cases, it is evident that the asser-
tionthatthecritics arenotserious is itseIfnotserious. Ve knowthis
simpIybyIooking atthe past historyofschoIarship.Acceptedwisdom
has sohequentIybeen subsequentIyoverthrown andregardedaswiIdIy
faIIacious that it scarceIy needs to b iIIustrated. Andyet ifwe Iook at
thewritingsinthe moments|ustbforeasetofacceptedtruthsbecame
asetofre|ectedfaIsities,we shaIIaImostaIways nndthedef enders of
thefaithpassionateintheinteIIectuaIdefenseofthesetruthsthatwere
infactontheverge ofcoIIapse-indeed morethanpassionate,vioIent
anddeepIyintoIerant. ThishistoryshouIdgive uspause.
Thequestionthenbeforeusiswhetherornotthereisanythingspe-
ciaIaboutthe current momentwith regard to thepersistent issue of
competingparadigms3 theyarerenectedinthe structures ofknowI-
edge. l beIieve there is. l beIievewe can see whatis speciaI onIyu we
move not onIybeyond our subneIds,butbeyond socioIogy, and indeed
beyond sociaI science. l beIievewe areIiving a moment inwhichthe
Cartesianschemathathasundergirdedourentireuniversitysystem,and
therefore our entire edince ofspeciaIization, is beingchaIIenged seri-
ousIyforthe nrsttimesincetheIateeighteenth century. l beIieve that
this chaIIengewiIIinfact Iead to considerabIe institutionaI restructur-
ing inthe next nftyyears. Andl beIievethat it isreIativeIyurgentfr
aII ofustotake a Iook at the basic epistemoIogicaI questions that are
under debate-that is, to Iook uphom each ofour speciaIized con-
cernstothiscommonconcernofaIIschoIars.To besure,wenorm y
don'twantto spend time L such epistemoIogicaI questions, regarding
them asthe purviewofsimpIyone moregroup ofspeciaIists. Butthat
is true onIywhen there is not much argument and when we operate,
soto speak, normaIIy. 8utthe argumenttodayaboutundebatedprem-
164 DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTION W THE SOCIAL SCIENCES
iseshasbecome acute andimportant, andinthat sensewe are notin
normal times.
The most Fndamental and original challenge to the basic culture
underlying the workofmostsociologists, and to b sure of most other
social scientists as well indeed ofall scholars), is a challenge that has
beenlargelyignoredbysociologists,oratleasttreatedas thoughitwere
a minor, marginal revision to accepted premises of thought. !t is the
challengeto thevalidityof8aconian-ewtonianconceptsofwhatcon-
stitutes science. Since atIeastthe seventeenth century, theewtonian
modeI has been the consecrated modeI of science, at Ieast untiI the
I97Os, when, frthe nrst time, ama|orchaIIengegained sufncientor-
ganizationaI strengthwithin the natur scientinc community to make
the modeI an openquestion,a question internaItoscience.
! shallignorefrthemomentthe questions ofthesociologyofsci-
ence, how it is that, at this point of time, such a challenge is being
posed. And!shallignoreforthemomentthemultiplechallengestothe
validityof science as an enterprise, because inmyviewtheyrepresent
nothingnew.Theyareacontinuationofthe"romantic"re|ectionofsci-
encethatfllowedinthewakeoftheso-calleddivorcebetweenscience
andphilosophy,theafGrmationoftheparticularandofagency.!tisnot
that these challenges, in their current frms, are not strong and even
signiGcant, but that they are attacking a model that is cracking hom
within. !fwearetoreevaluatewhatplaceweshouldgive science inthe
structures ofknowledge,weneed6rsttobeveryawareinwhatdirection
the natural sciences havebeen heading.
Ve are aII fmiIiarwith the ewtonian modeI. Let us nonetheIess
review itsprincipaIeIements.!tassertsthatthereisareaImateriaIuni-
verse. !tasserts thateverything thatexistsin this universe is governed
byuniversaInaturaIIaws andthatscienceis the activityofuncovering
whattheseuniversalnaturallawsare. !t asserts thattheonlyreliable, or
useful,waywe can knowwhat are these laws isthrough empirical in-
vestigation, and speciGcallythatassertions ofknowledgebyauthorities
clerical orlay) that are not validated empirically have no standing as
knowledge. !tassertsthatempiricalinvestigationinvolves measurement
andthatthemoreprecisethemeasurementsthebetterthequalityofthe
data.!tassertsthatmeasuring instruments canbedevised, canalwaysbe
improved, and thatthere is no intrinsic reasonwhywecannot one day
arriveatmeasurements thatarequasi-perfectintheirprecision.
oristhisall.!tassertsthatthemostadequatestatementofnatural
DI FFERENTIATON AND RECONSTRUCTION IN THE SOCI AL SCI ENCES 1 65
laws is the statementthatis simplest and covers thelargestnumberof
natural phenomena. Ultimately, weshould be able tostate all knowl-
edge inasingle equation.!tassertsthatthetra|ectoriesofmostnatural
phenomena are linear and that such tra| ectories always tend to return
to equilibria. !t asserts ,and this is the most difGcult to understand in
prima fcie terms) that aIIlaws are mathematically"reversible,"which
means thattimeis irrelevanttothe understanding ofnaturalprocesses.
Therefre, providedweknow alawandknowso-called initialcondi-
tions,we canpredictorpostdictwhatwiIlbe orwasthelocationand
measurementofanyprocess inthefutureorthepast. !inally, itasserts
thatanyprocess thatseems tobhaveinanyotherwaydoes notreally
do so. Vhat we are observing is the consequence of our ignorance of
howthprocessreallyworks, andwhenwehavedevisedbetter measur-
ing instruments,weshallarrive at knowledge ofaprocess conforming
to these tenets.
owlet us take averyrecentsummationby!lya Prigogine ofthe
alternate set of assumptions that sometimes is called the science of
complexity. ' He assertstwobasic things. Scienceis intransition to a
newform ofrationality based on complexity, one that moves beyond
therationalityofdeterminismandthereforeofaFturethathasalready
been decided. And the fact that the mture is not given is asource of
basic hope.
!nplaceoftheomnipresenceofrepetition,stability, andequilibrium,
whichwasthevisionofclassicalscience,thescienceofcomplexitysees
instability, evolution,anductuationeverywhere,notmerelyintheso-
cial arenabut inthemostfundamentalprocesses ofthenaturalarena.
Prigogine callsthismovingfrom ageometricaluniverse to a narrative
universe, in which the problem of time is the central problem. Hence
nature andhumansarenotseparate,evenless strangers toeach other.
This is not, however, because humans operate in terms ofthe descrip-
tions of classical science aboutnature, but preciselyfor the opposite
reason,thatnatureoperatesintermsofthedescriptionswehaveusually
used about humans.
He draws homthisnota re|ection ofsciencebutthenecessityfr
sciencetoenunciate a more universalmessage.!tis notthat equilibria
do not exist, but thattheyare exceptional and temporary phenomena.
structuresmoveaway hom equilibrium over time. "The sub|ective
emerges uom everything, while bing a part of this everything" o8).
Thearrowoftimeisthe commonelementoftheuniverse.Vhile time
makes everything grow old in the same direction, i t also diferentiates
everything. Evolution is multiple. Probability is not a lesser frm of
truth, the pis ale because we are ignorant. It is the only scientifc truth
there is. Probability derives fom the fact that there are always new sta
tistical solutions of dynamic equations. Interactions within systems are
continual, and this communication constitutes the irreversibility of the
process, creting ever more numerous correlations. Matter, not merely
humans, has memory.
Alongside therefore the experience of repetition, humans have a
second experience, that of creativity. These two experiences are not in
compatible, nor a matter of choice. We have both experiences, and both
experiences are part of reality. Science, in its more universal frm, has
to be the search fr "the narrow passage" between the determined and
the arbitrary.
The implications for social science seem to me obvious. Te dis
tinction between nomothetic and idiographic epistemologies, the great
Methodenstreit, is erased. Or rather, this reading of science renders a
nomothetic view untenable (as well it might, since the nomothetic view
was based on Newtonian premises) , but it also renders an idiographic
view untenable, since precisely the features that the idiographic epis
temology singled out as its justifcation are now to reside in scientifc
activity itself, even into the very sanctuary of physics. It raises questions
about what we mean by order and ther
e
fore by rationality, without sug
gesting that we live in an anarchic and meaningless universe. It raises
questions about the very objective of precision and abut the presumed
correlation between precision and validity (or even reliability). It raises
questions about whether anything can or ever could be value-neutral,
while holding to the principle that communication really exists and
therefore some statements are more valid than others.
It is as though we were tearing down the building in which we all
have lived fr some fur hundred years now, while at the very same time
trying to build new pillars that will hold up some kind of roof over our
heads, metaphorically one more open to the light than the old one. No
wonder Prigogine argues that science is at its very beginnings. Social
science, which is the effr to study the most complex systems of all,
becomes not merely the queen of the sciences, but the most diffcult
of the sciences. It also becomes, however, the arena fom which the
epistemological truths of science (even the natural sciences) will now
be drawn.
DI FFERENTIATION AND RECONSTRUCTI ON IN THE SOCIAL SCI ENCES 1 67
Are we ready for such a central role? Far fom it, I would say. For
many of us are just burrowing inward instead of eploding outward.
The "crisis" of continual splicing off into new specializations that are
ever more overlapping with other transversal splices may not be a sign of
loss of fnction or viability but rather a sign of the crumbling of the old
structures under the weight of th,e epicycles we have been constucting
because we have not been ready to recognize the end of the Newtonian
era. Can we also tear down the old structure of social science while
simultaneously constructing new pillars fr some kind of roof? And will
this roof b limited to just social science or rather encompass a reunited
single world of knowledge that knows no divsion between humans and
nature, no divorce between philosophy and science, no separation of the
search f
o
r the true and the search fr the good? Can we unthink social
science while reconstructing the structures of knowledge?
I do not know. Indeed, the science of complexity tells us that no
one can know. But we can ty. Insofar as we give ourselves such an in
tellectual task, what does this imply fr our organizational structures?
At the very least, that we should interpret organizational and bureau
cratic boundaries with great fexibility and that we should encourage
intelligent collaboration all over the place. Perhaps one day when we
have opened up enough, and reconstructed the world of knowledge
enough, we can close down again fr a while and talk of "disciplines"
and of specializations. But this is not the moment. Opening ourselves
up, singly and collectivey, is a not an option; it is the minimum strategy
for intellectual surviva and relevance.
Chuter I I
Eurocentrism and Its Avatars
The Dilemmas of Social Science
SociaIsciencehasbeenEurocentricthroughoutits institutionaIhistory,
whichmeanssincetherehavebeendepartments teachingsociaIscience
withinuniversitysystems.ThisisnotintheIeastsurprising.SociaIsci-
ence is a product of the modern worId-system, and Eurocentrism is
constitutiveofthegeocuItureofthemodernworId.Iurmermore, asan
institutionaI structure, sociaIscience originatedIargeIy inEurope. Ve
shaIIbeusing"Europe"heremore as acuIturaIthan as acartographicaI
expression, inthis sense, inthediscussionabouttheIasttwocenturies,
we are referring primariIy and |ointIy to western Europe and orth
America.ThesociaIsciencediscipIineswerem fact overwheImingIyIo-
cated,atIeastupto1945, in|ustnvecountries -Irance,Oreat8ritain,
Oermany, ltaIy, andthe United States. Even today, despite the gIobaI
spreadofsociaI science asanactivity,theIargema|orityofsociaIscien-
tistsworIdwideremainEuropeans. SociaI scienceemergedin response
toEuropeanprobIems,atapointinhistorywhenEuropedominatedthe
whoIeworIdsystem.ltwasvirtuaIIyinevitabIethatitschoiceofsub|ect
matter,itstheorizing,itsmethodoIogy,anditsepistemoIogyaIIrenected
theconstraints ofthecrucibIewithinwhichitwasfrmuIated.
However, inthe period since 1945, the decoIonization ofAsia and
Ahica,pIusthesharpIyaccentuatedpoIiticaIconsciousnessofthenon-
EuropeanworIdeverywhere, has affectedtheworIdofknowIedge|ust
asmuchas ithasa0ectedthepoIitics oftheworId-system. Onema|or
suchdi0erence,todayandindeedfor somethirtyyearsnowatIeast,is
thatthe"Eurocentrism"ofsociaIsciencehasbeenunderattack, severe
attack. The attackis of course mndamentaIIy|ustiGed, andthere is no
questionthatifsociaI scienceistomakeanyprogress inthetwenty-Grst
Keynote address at the International Sociological Association's East Asian regional colloquium,
"The Future of Sociology in East Asia," November 22-23, 1996, SeouL Kore.
1 68
EUROCENTRI SM AND ITS AVATARS 1 69
century,i tmustovercometheEurocentricheritagethathasdistortedits
analysesanditscapacitytodealwiththeproblems ofthecontemporary
world. !f, however, we are to do this, we must take a careFl look at
whatconstitutes Eurocentrism,for,asweshallsee, itisahydra-headed
monsterandhasmanyavatars.!twillnotbeeasytoslaughterthedragon
swiftly. !ndeed, ifwe are notcareFl, inthe guise oftryingto Gght it,
we may in fct criticize Eurocentrism using Eurocentric premises and
therebyreinfrceitsholdonthe communityofscholars.
There are at IeastGve dierent ways inwhich sociaI science has been
said tobe Eurocentric.Thesedonot constitute aIogicaIIytight set of
categories,sincetheyoverIapinuncIearways.StilI,itmightbeusehIto
reviewtheaIIegatons undereachheading. lt hasbeen argued thatso-
cial science expressesitsEurocentrismin (I) itshistoriography, ,2)the
parochiaIityofitsuniversalism,(3) itsassumptionsabout,Vestern)civ-
iLzation, (4) its Orientalism, and,5)its attempts to imposethe theory
of progress.
Historiography. ThisistheexplanationofEuropean dominanceofthe
modern world by virtue of speciGc European historical achievements.
Thehistoriography is probablyfundamentalto the otherexplanations,
butit isalsothemostobviouslynaivevariantandtheonewhosevalid-
ityis most easilyput in question. Europeans in the last two centuries
have unquestionably sat on top of the world. Collectively, they have
controlled the wealthiest and militarilymostpwerfu countries. They
have enoyedthe most advancedtechnoIogyand were the primarycre-
ators ofthisadvancedtechnoIqy.Thesefcts seemIargeIyuncontested
andareindeedhardtocontestpIausibIy.TheissueiswhatexpIainsthis
dierentiaIinpowerandstandardofIivingwiththerestoftheworId.
One kind ofanswer is that Europeans have done something merito-
rious and derent om peopIes in other parts ofthe world. This is
whatis meantby scholarswho speakofthe"Europeanmiracle. "' Eu-
ropeans have launched the industrial revolution or sustained growth,
or they have launched modernity, or capitalism, or bureaucratization,
or individual liberty. Of course, we shall need then to denne these
termsrathercareFllyanddiscoverwhethetitwasreallyEuropeanswho
launchedwhatevereachofthese novelties is supposed to be, and ifso
exactly when.
8ut even ifwe agree onthe deGnition and the timing, and there-
fre so to speak onthe reality ofthe phenomenon, we have actually
170 EUROCENTRI SM AND ITS AVATARS
epIained very IittIe. Iorwe must then expIain why it isthat Euro-
peans, and notothers,Iaunched the specined phenomenon, and why
they did at a certain moment of hstory. m seeking such expIana-
tions, theinstinctofmostschoIarshasbeentopushusbackinhstory
to presumed antecedents. lfEuropeans in the eighteenth orsuteenth
century did7 it is said to be probabIybecause ther ancestors (or at-
tributedancestors,fortheancestrymaybe Iess bioIogicaIthan cuIturaI,
or assertedIy cuIturaI) did, orwere,y in the eIeventhcentury, orinthe
mthcenturyB. C. , orevenmrtherback. Ve can aIIthinkofthe muIti-
pIeexpIanations that, oncehavingestabIished orat Ieast asserted some
phenomenonthathasoccurredinthesixteenthtonineteenthcentures,
proceedtopushusbacktovarious earIierpoints inEuropean ancestry
fr thetruIy determinant variabIe.
There is apremiseherethatisnotreaIIyhidden,butwas fraIong
time undebated. The premise is thatwhateveristhenoveItyforwhch
Europe is heIdresponsibIeinthesixteenthtonineteenthcenturies,this
noveItyis agoodthing, one ofwhich Europe shouIdbe proud, oneof
whichthe restoftheworId shouId be envious, oratIeast apprecatve.
ThisnoveItyis perceived as an achievement, andnumerousbooktitIes
bear testimony to this kindofevaIuation.
There seemstomeIittIe question thatthe actuaI historiographyof
worIdsociaIsciencehasexpressedsuchaperceptionofreaIitytoavery
Iarge degree. This perception can be chaIIenged of course on various
grounds, andthishasbeendoneincreasingIyinrecentdecades. Onecan
chaIIenge the accuracyofthepicture ofwhathappenedwth:nEurope
and intheworId as awhoIe in thesixteenth to nineteenth centuries.
One can certainIychaIIenge the pIausibiIity ofthe presumed cuIturaI
antecedentsofwhathappenedinthisperiod. One canimpIantthestory
ofthe sixteenthtonineteenthcenturies inaIonger duration, homsev-
eraIcenturiesIongerto tensofthousandsofyears.lfonedoesthat,one
isusuaIIyarguingthattheEuropean"achievements"ofthesixteenthto
the nineteenth centuries thereby seemIess remarkabIe, ormoreIike a
cycIicaIvariant, orIess Iike achievementsthatcanbe creditedprimariIy
toEurope.IinIy, one can acceptthatthenoveItieswerereaI,but argue
thattheywereIess apositive than anegative accompIishment.
This kind of revisionist historiography is often persuasive in detaiI
andcertainIytendstobecumuIative.Atacertainpoint,thedebunking,
ordeconstructing,maybecomepervasive, andperhapsacountertheory
takes hoId. This is, frexampIe,what seems tobe happening (or has
EUROCENTRISM AND IT AVATARS 1 71
aIready happened) with the historiography ofthe Irench RevoIution,
wheretheso-caIIedsociaIinterpretationthathaddominatedtheIitera-
tureforatIeast acenturyanda haIfwaschaIIengedand thento some
degree toppIed inthe Iast thirtyyears. Ve areprobabIy enteringinto
suchaso-caIIedparadigmaticshirightnowinthebasichistoriography
of modernity.
Vhenever such a shi happens, however, we ought to take a deep
breath, step back, and evaIuatewhether the aIternativehypotheses are
indeed more pIausibIe, and most ofaIIwhether theyreaIIybreakwith
the cruciaI underIying premises ofthe frmerIy dominant hypotheses.
This is the question l wish to raise in reIation to the historiography
ofEuropeanpresumed achievements in the modern worId ltis under
assauIt.VhatisbeingproposedasarepIacement?Andhowdferentis
thisrepIacement?8efre,however,wecantackIethisIargequestion,we
mustreviewsomeoftheothercritiques ofEurocentrism.
Univesalism. UniversaIismistheviewthatthereexistscientinctruths
that are vaIid across aII of time and space. European thought of the
Iastfewcenturies hasbeenstrongIyuniversaIistfrthe mostpart.This
was the era of the cuIturaItriumph ofscience as aknowIedge activity.
Science dispIaced phiIosophy as the prestige mode of LowIedge and
thearbiterof sociaI discourse. Thescience ofwhichwe aretaIking is
ewtonian-Cartesianscience.ltspremiseswerethat theworIdwasgov-
ernedbydeterministIaws takmg theformofIinearequiIibriaprocesses
andthat,bystatingsuchIawsasuniversaIreversibIeequations,weomy
neededknowIedgeinadditionofsomesetofinitiaIconditionstopermit
ustopredictthestateofthesystematanyhtureorpasttime.
VhatthismeantfrsociaIknowIedge seemedcIear. SociaIscientists
mightdiscovertheuniversaIprocessesthatexpIainhumanbehavior,and
whateverhypothesestheycouIdverifywerethoughttohoIdacrosstime
and space, or shouIdbestated inways suchthattheyhoIdtrue across
timeandspace.ThepersonaoftheschoIarwasirreIevant,sinceschoIars
wereoperatingasvaIue-neutraIanaIysts.AndtheIocusoftheempiricaI
evidence couIdbe essentiaIIyignored,providedthedatawere handIed
correctIy, sincethe processeswerethoughtto beconstant.The conse-
quenceswerenottoo diuerent, however, inthe case ofthose schoIars
whoseapproachwasmorehistoricaIandidiographic,asIongasoneas-
sumedtheexistenceofanunderIyingmodeIofhistoricaIdeveIopment.
stagetheories (whetherofComte or Spencer orMarx, to choose
onIyafewnameshomaIongIist)wereprimariIytheorizationsofwhat
1 72 EUROCENTRISM AND ITS AVATARS
has been caIIed the Vhg nterpretaton ofhstoq, the presumpton
thatthepresentsthebest tmeeverandthatthepastIednevtablyto
the present.Andevenveryemprcsthstorcalwrtng,howevermuch
t procIamed abhorrence of theorzng, tended nonetheIess to reect
subconscouslyan underIyng stage theory.
Vhether n the ahstorcal tme-reversble frm of the nomothetic
socaI scentsts or the dachronc stage theory form of the hstor-
ans, EuropeansocalscencewasresoIuteIyunversaIstnassertngthat
whatevertwasthathappenednEuropenthesixteenthtonneteenth
centures represented a pattern that was appIcabIe everywhere, ether
because t was a progressve achevement of manknd that was rre-
versbIe or because t represented the fulGIlment of humanty's basc
needs va the removaI of artncaI obstacIes to ths reaIzaton. Vhat
you sawnown Europe was not onlygood but the fce ofthe Fture
everywhere.
UnversaIzng theores have a|ways come under attack on the
grounds that the partcular stuaton n a partcular tme and pIace
dd not seem to Gt the modeI. There have also always been scholars
who argued that unversaI generaIzatons were ntrnscaIIy mposs-
ble. 8ut nthe last thrtyyears a thrd knd of attack has beenmade
agansttheunversaIzngtheoresofmodernsocalscence.!thasbeen
argued that these aIIegedIyunversaItheores arenotn fct universaI,
butratherapresentatonoftheVesternhstorcal patternas thoughit
were unversal.]osepheedhamqute sometme ago desgnatedasthe
FndamentaI error ofEurocentrsm. . . the tact postuIate thatmodern
scenceandtechnology,whchnfacttookrootnRenassanceEurope,
sunversaIandthattfIIowsthataIlthatsEuropeans."
SocalscencethushasbeenaccusedofbengEurocentrcnsofras
twaspartcularstc. More than Eurocentrc, twassadto be hghly
parochaI. Thshurttothequck, sncemodernsocaIscenceprdedt-
lfspecGcallyon havng rsen abvetheparochaI.Tothe degree that
ths charge seemed reasonable, twas farmore tellng than merelyas-
sertngthattheunversaIpropostonshadnotyetbeenformuIatedna
waythat could accountforeverycase.
Civilization. CvIzaton refers toa setofsocalcharacterstcs that
arecontrastedwthprmtvenessorbarbarsm.Modern Europconsd-
eredtselfto be morethan mereIy one "cvIzaton" amongseveraI, t
consderedtseIftobeunquelyoratIeastespecally) "civlzed."Vhat
characterzed ths state of beng cvIzed s not somethng onwhch
EUROCENTRISM AND ITS AVATARS 173
therehasbeenanobviousconsensus,evenamongEuropeans.Iorsome,
civilizationwasencompassedin"modernity," thatis,intheadvance of
technologyandtheriseofproductivityaswellas theculturalbeliefin
theexistenceofhistoricdevelopmentandprogress.Iorothers,civiliza-
tionmeanttheincreasedautonomyofthe"individual"vis--visallother
socialactorsthefamily, thecommunity,thestate,the religiousinsti-
tutions. Ior others, civilization meantnonbrutalbehavior in everyday
lif, socialmanners in thebroadestsense. And for still others,civiliza-
tion meantthedecline ornarrowingofthescopeoflegitimateviolence
andthebroadeningofthedennitionofcruelty.Andofcourse,frmany,
civiIizationinvoIvedseveraIor aII of thesetraits m combination.
Vhen
Irench coIonizersinthenineteenthcenturyspokeofla mis

sion civilisatrice, theymeantthat,bymeansofcoIoniaIconquest,Irance
(or moregeneraIIyEurope)wouId impose upon non-EuropeanpeopIes
the vaIues and norms thatwere encompassed by these dennitions of
civilization. Vhen, in the I99Os,various groups inVestern countries
spoke ofthe "right tointerfere"inpoliticalsituations invarious parts
ofthe world,butalmostalways innon-Vesternparts ofthe world, it
was inthe name ofsuchvalues ofcivilization that theywere asserting
such a right.
This set ofvalues,howeverwepreferto designate themcivilized
values, secular-humanistvalues, modernvalues-permeates socialsci-
ence, as one mightexpect,since socialscienceis aproductofthesame
historicalsystemthathaselevatedthesevaluestothepinnacleofahier-
archy. Socialscientistshaveincorporatedsuchvaluesintheirdennitions
ofthe problems (the socialproblems, the intellectual problems) they
considerworth pursuing. Theyhaveincorporated thesevaIues intothe
concepts they have inventedwithwhich to anaIyze the probIems and
into the indicators they utiIize to measure the concepts. SociaI scien-
tistsnodoubthaveinsisted,frthemostpart,thattheywereseekingto
bevaIue-hee, insofrastheycIaimedtheywerenotintentionaIIy mis-
readingordistortingthedatabecauseoftheirsociopoliticalpreferences.
8ut to be value-hee inthissense does not at allmeanthatvalues, in
thesenseofdecisionsaboutthehistoricalsignincanceofobservedphe-
nomena,areabsent.ThisisofcoursethecentralargumentofHeinrich
Rickert(I9I3)aboutthelogicalspecincityofwhathecallsthe"cultural
sciences."`Theyare unable to ignore "values" in the sense ofassessing
social signincance.
Tobesure,theVesternandsocialscientincpresumptionsabout"civ-
1 74 EUROCENTRI SM AND ITS AVATARS
iIization"werenotentireIyimpervioustotheconceptofthemuItipIicity
of"civiIizations. "Vheneverone posedthequestionoftheoriginofciv-
iIizedvaIues, howitwasthattheyhaveappearedoriginaIIy(or soitwas
argued)inthemodernVesternworId,theansweraImostinevitabIywas
thattheyweretheproducts ofIong-standingand uniquetrends inthe
pastoftheVesternworId-aIternativeIydescribedastheheritage of
antiquityand/oroftheChristianMiddIeAges,theheritageoftheHe-
brewworId, orthe combinedheritage ofthe two, the Iattersometimes
renamedandrespeciGedasthe|udeo-Christianheritage.
Manyob|ectionscanandhavebeenmadetothesetofsuccessivepre-
sumptions.VhetherthemodernworId,orthemodernEuropeanworId,
is civiIized intheverywaythewordisusedinEuropean discoursehas
beenchaIIenged.Thereisthe notabIe quipofMahatmaOandhi,who,
whenasked,"Mr. Oandhi,what doyouthinkofVesternciviIization?"
responded,"!twouIdbeagoodidea. "!naddition,theassertionthatthe
vaIues of ancient Oreeceand Rome orof ancientlsraeIweremore con-
ducive toIayingthebase for these so-caIIedmodernvaIues thanwere
the vaIues ofother ancient civiIizations has aIso been contested. And
nnaIIy whether modern Europe can pIausibIy cIaim either Oreece and
Rome on the one hand or ancient !sraeI on the other as its civiIiza-
tionaImregroundis notataIIseIf-evident. lndeed,therehasIongbeen
a debate between thosewhohave seen Oreece or!sraeIas aIternative
cuIturaIotigins. Each side ofthis debate has denied the pIausibiIity of
the aIternauve. This debate itseIfcasts doubt on thepIausibiIityofthe
derivation.
lnanycase,whowouIdarguethat|apancancIaimancientlndicciv-
Jizations as its mrerunner on the grounds that theywere the pIace of
originof8uddhism,whichhas becomeacentraIpartof|apan'scuIturaI
history? ls the contemporaryUnited States cIosercuIturaIIy to ancient
Oreece, Rome, or !sraeIthan|apan is to !ndic civiIization? One couId
after z make the case that Christianity, ! hom representing conti-
nuity, marked adecisive breakwith Oreece, Rome, and!sraeI. !ndeed
Christians,uptotheRenaissance,madepreciseIythisargument.Andis
notthebreakwithantiquitystiIItodaypartofthedoctrineofChristian
churches?
However, today, thesphereinwhich the argument aboutvaIueshas
come to the mre is thepoIiticaI sphere. Prime MinisterMahathir of
MaIaysiahasbeenveryspeciGcinarguingthatAsiancountriescanand
shouId"modernize"withoutacceptingsomeoraofthevaIuesofEuro-
EUROCENTRISM AND ITS AVATARS 1 75
peancivilization.AndhisviewshavebeenwidelyechoedbyotherAsian
poIiticaIIeaders.The"vaIues"debatehasaIsobecomecentraIwithinEu-
ropeancountriesthemselves,especially,butnotony)withintheUnited
States, asadebateabout"multiculturalism. "Thisversionofthecurrent
debate has indeed had a major impact on institutionaIized sociaI sci-
ence,withtheblossoming ofstructureswithintheuniversitygrouping
schoIars who denythe premise of the singuIarity ofsomething caIIed
civilization.
Orienta/ism. Orientalismreferstoastylizedandabstractedstatement
of the characteristics of non-Vestern civiIizations. !t is the obverse
of the concept "civilization" and has become a ma|or theme in pub-
Iic discuss;on since the writings ofAnouarAbdel-Malekand Edward
Said.' Orientalismwas not too long ago abadge of honor.` Oriental-
ism is amode ofknowledgethatclaims rootsintheEuropeanMiddle
Ages,when some inteIIectuaI Christian monks set themseIves the task
ofunderstandingbetternon-Christianreligions,bylearningtheirlan-
guagesandreadingcarehllytheirreligioustexts. Ofcourse,theybased
themselvesonthepremiseofthetruthofChristianFithandthedesir-
ability ofconverting thepagans, but nonethelesstheytookthese texts
seriousIyas expressions,howeverperverted,of humancuIture.
Vhen Orientalism was secularized in the nineteenth century, the
mrm of the activitywas not very different. Orientalists continued to
learn the languages anddecipherthe texts. !ntheprocess,theycontin-
uedtodependuponabinaryviewofthesocialworld.!npartialplaceof
the Christian/pagan distinction, theypIaced theVestern/OrientaI, or
modern/nonmodern,distinction.!nthesocialsciences,thereemergeda
longlineoffamouspolarities.militaryandindustrialsocieties,Oemein-
schmt and OeseIIschaft, mechanicaI and organicsoIidarity, traditionaI
andrational-legallegitimation, statics anddynamics.Thoughthesepo-
IaritieswerenotusuaIIydirectlyrelatedtotheliteratureonOrientalism,
we should not mrget that one of the earliest of these polarities was
Henry Maine's status and contract, and it was explicitly based on a
comparisonofHindu andEngIishIegaIsystems.
Orientalistssawthemselvesaspersonswhodiligentlyexpressedtheir
sympathetic appreciation of a non-Vestern civilization by devoting
theirlivestoeruditestudyoftextsinordertounderstand(vestehen) the
culture.The culturethattheyunderstoodinthis fashionwas ofcourse
aconstruct, asociaIconstructby someonecomingltomadierentcuI-
ture.!tisthevalidityoftheseconstructsthathas comeunder attack, at
176 EUROCENTRISM AND ITS AVATARS
three difrent levels: it is said that the concepts do not fi t the empirical
reality; that they abstract too much and thus erase empirical variety; and
that they are extrapolations of European prejudices.
The attack against Orientalism was however more than an attack on
poor scholarship. It was also a critique of the political consequences
of such social science concepts. Orientalism was said to legitimate the
dominant power position of Europe, indeed to play a primary role in
the ideological carapace of Europe's imperial role within the famework
of the modern world-system. The attack on Orientalism has become
tied to the general attack on reifcation and allied to the multiple efforts
to deconstruct social science narratives. Indeed, it has been argued that
both some non-Western attempts to create a counterdiscourse of "Oc
cidentalism" and, for example, "all elite discourses of antitraditionalism
in modern China, fom the May Fourth movement to the 1989 Tien
anmen student demonstration, have been extensively orientalized,"6
therein sustaining rather than undermining Orientalism.
Progress. Progress, its reality, its inevitability, was a basic theme of
the European Enlightenment. Some would trace it back through all of
Western philosophy.7 In any case, it became the consensus viewpoint
of nineteenth-century Europe (and indeed remained so for most of the
twentieth century as well). Social science, as it was constructed, was
deeply imprinted with the theory of progress.
Progress became the underlying explanation of the history of the
world and the rationale of almost all stage theories. Even more, it be
came the motor of all of applied social science. We were said to study
social science in order better to understand the social world because
then we could more wisely and more surely accelerate progress every
where (or at least help remove impediments in its path). The metaphors
of evolution or of development were not merely attempts to describe;
they were also incentives to prescribe. Social science became the ad
viser to (handmaiden of?) policy-makers fom Bentham
'
S panopticon to
the Verein for Sozialpolitik, to the Beveridge Reprt and endless other
governmental commissions, to UNESCO
'
s postwar series on racism, to
the successive researches of Jam es Coleman on the U. S. educational sys
tem. Afer the Second World War, the "development of underdeveloped
countries" was a rubric that justifed the involvement .of social scientists
of all political persuasions in the social and political reorganization of
the non-Western world.
Progress was not merely assumed or analyzed; it was imposed as well.
This i s perhaps not so diferent fom the attitudes we discussed under
the heading of "civilization." What needs to be underlined here is that,
at the time when civilization began to be a category that had lost its
innocence and attracted suspicions (primarily after 1945), progress as a
category survived and was more than adequate to replace civilization,
smelling somewhat prettier. The idea of progress seemed to serve as the
last redoubt of Eurocentrism, the falback position.
The idea of progress of course has always had conservative critics,
although the vigor of their resistance could be said to have declined
dramaticaly in the 1850-1950 period. But since at least 1968 the critics
of the idea of progress have burst frth anew, with renewed vigor among
the conservatives and with newly discovered faith on the left. There are
however many diferent ways one can attack the idea of progress. One
can suggest that what has been called progress is a false progress but that
a true progress exists, arguing that Europ's version was a delusion or an
attempt to delude. Or one can suggest that there can be no such thing
as progress, because of "original sin" or the eternal cycle of humanity.
Or one can suggest that Europe has indeed known progress but that it
is now trying to keep the fuits of progress from the rest of the world,
as some non-Western critics of the ecology movement have argued.
What is clear, however, is that for many the idea of progress has
become labled as a Europan idea, and hence has come under the attack
on Eurocentrism. But this attack is of ten rendered quite contradictory
by the effrts of other non-Westerners to appropriate progress fr part
or all of the non-Western world, pushing Europe out of the picture, but
not progress.
The multiple frms of Eurocentrism and the multiple frms of te cri
tique of Eurocentrism do not necessarily add up to a cohe
_
renp1cure.
What we might do is try to assess the central debate. Inst1tut1onahzed
social science started as an activity in Europe, as we have noted. It has
been charged with painting a false picture of social reality by misread
ing, grossly exaggerating, and/or distorting the historical role of Europe,
particularly its historical role in the modern world .
.
The critics fundamentally make, however, three different (and some
what contradictory) kinds of claims. The fi rst is that whateveit ithat
Europe did, other civilizations were also in the process of do1g 1t, up
to the moment that Europe used its geopolitical power to mterrupt
the process in other parts of the world. The second is that whatever
Europe did is nothing more than a continuation of what others had
already been doing for a long time, with the Europeans temporarily
coming to the freground. The third is that whatever Europe did has
been analyzed incorrectly and subjected to inappropriate extrapolations,
which have had dangerous consequences for both science and the po
litical world. The first two arguments, widely ofered, seem to me to
sufer fom what I would term "anti-Eurocentric Eurocentrism." The
third argument seems to me to be undoubtedly correct and deserves
our full attention. What kind of curious animal could "anti-Eurocentric
Eurocentrism" be? Let us take each of these arguments in turn.
There have been throughout the twentieth century persons who have
argued that, within the famework of say Chinese or Indian or Arab
Muslim "civiization," there existed both the cultural fundations and
the sociohistorical pattern of development that would have led to the
emergence of full-fledged modern capitalism or that were indeed in the
process of leading in that direction. In the case of Japan, the argument is
ofen even stronger, asserting that modern capitalism did develop there,
separately but temporally coincident with its development in Europe.
The heart of most of these arguments is a stage theory of develop
ment (fequently its Marxist variant), fom which it logically follows
that diferent parts of the world were all on parallel roads to modernity
or capitalism. This frm of argument presumes both the distinctiveness
and social autonomy of the various civilizational regions of the world
on the one hand and their common subordination to an overarching
pattern on the other.
Since almost all the various arguments of this kind are specific to a
given cultural zone and its historical development, it would be a mas
sive exercise to discuss the historical plausibility of the case of each
civilizational zone under discussion. I do not propose to do so here.
What I would point out is one logical limitation to this line of argu
ment whatever the region under discussion, and one general intellectual
consequence. The logical limitation is very obvious. Even if it is true
that various other parts of the world were going down the road to
modernity/capitalism, perhaps were even far along this road, this still
leaves us with the problem of accounting for the fct that it was the
West, or Europe, that reached there frst and was consequently able
to "conquer the world." At this point, we are back to the question as
originally posed, Why modernity/capitalism in the West?
Of course today there are some who are denying that Europe in a
deep sense did conquer the world, basing their argument on the grounds
that there has always been resistance, but this seems to me to be stretch
ing our reading of reality. There was ater all real colonial conquest that
covered a large portion of the globe. There are after all real military
indicators of European strength. No doubt there were always multiple
frms of resistance, both active and passive, but if the resistance were
truly so frmidable, there would b nothing fr us to discuss today. If
we insist too much on non-European agency as a theme, we end up
whitewashing all of Europe's sins, or at least most of them. This seems
to me not what the critics were intending.
In any case, however temporary we deem Europe's domination to be,
we still red to explain it. Most of the critics pursuing this l ine of ar
gument are more interested in explaining how Europe interrupted an
indigenous process in their part of the world than in exlaining how
it was that Europe was able to do this. Even more to the point, by
attempting to diminish Europe's credit for this deed, this presumed
achievement, they reinfrce the theme that it was an achievement. The
theory makes Europe into an "evil hero" -no doubt evil, but also no
doubt a hero in the dramatic sense of the term, fr it was Europe that
made the fnal spurt in the race and crossed the fnish line frst. And
worse still, there is the implication, not too far beneath the surfce, that,
given half a chance, Chinese or Indians or Arabs not only could have,
but would have, done the same -that is, launch modernity/capitalism,
conquer the world, exploit resources and people, and play themselves
the role of evil hero.
This view of modern history seems to be very Eurocentric in its anti
Eurocentrism because it accepts the signifcance (that is, the value) of
the European "achievement" in precisely the terms that Europe has de
fined it and merely asserts that others could have done it too, or were
doing it too. For some possibly accidental reason, Europe got a tempo
rary edge on the others and interfered with their development frcibly.
The assertion that we others could have been Europeans too seems to
me a very feeble way of opposing Eurocentrism and actually reinfrces
the worst cons.equences of Eurocentric thought fr social knowledge.
The second line of opposition to Eurocentric analyses is that which
denies that there is anything really new in what Europe did. This line
of argument starts by pointing out that, as of the late Middle Ages,
and indeed for a long time before that, western Europe was a marginal
(peripheral) area of the Eurasian continent whose historical role and
cultural achievements were below the level of various other parts of the
world (such as the Arab world or China). This is undoubtedly true, at
least as a frst-level generalization. A quick jump is then made to sit
uating modern Europe within the construction of an tumH or world
structure that has been in creation for several thousand years.
8
This is
not implausible, but the systemic meaningfulness of this tumH has yet
to be established, in my view. We then come to the third element in the
sequence. It is said to fllow fom the prior marginality of western Eu
rope and the millennial construction of a Eurasian world tumH that
whatever happened in western Europ was nothing special and simply
one more variant in the historical construction of a singular system.
This latter argument seems to me conceptually and historically very
wrong. I do not intend however to reargue this case.9 I wish merely
to underline the ways in which this is anti-Eurocentric Eurocentrism.
Logically, it requires arguing that capitalism is nothing new, and in
deed some of those who argue the continuity of the development of
the Eurasian tumH have explicitly taken this position. Unlike the po
sition of those who are arguing that a given other civilization was also
en route to capitalism when Europe interfered with this process, the ar
gument here is that we were all of us doing this together, and that there
was no real development toward capitalism in modern times because the
whole world (or at least the whole Eurasian tumH)had ben capitalist
in some sense for several thousand years.
Let me point out frst of al that this is the classic position of the lib
eral economists. This is not really difrent fom Adam Smith arguing
that there exists a "propensity [in human nature] to truck, barer, and
exchange one thing for another."10 It eliminates essential diffrences be
tween diferent historical systems. If the Chinese, the Egyptians, and
the western Europeans have all been doing the same thing historically,
m what sense ae tey diferent civiliztions or diferent historical sys
tems?11 In eliminating credit to Europe, is there any credit lef to anyone
except to pan-humanity?
But again worst of all, by appropriating what modern Europe did for
the balance sheet of the Eurasian tumH, we are accepting the essential
ideological argument of Eurocentrism, that modernity (or capitalism)
is miraculous and wonderfl, and are merely adding that everyone has
aways been doing it in one way or another. By denying European credit,
we deny European blame. What is so terrible about Europe's "conquest
of the world" if it is nothing but the latest part of the ongoing march
of the ecumene? Far fom being a frm of argument that is critical of
Europe, it implies applause that Europe, having been a "marginal" part
of the ecumene, at last learned the wisdom of the others (and elders) and
applied it successfully.
And the unspoken clincher flows inevitably. bthe Eurasian ecumene
has been fllowing a single thread fr thousands of years, and the capi
talist world-system is nothing new, then what possible argument is there
that would indicate that this thread will not continue frever, or at least
for an indefnitely long time? If capitalism did not begin in the six
teenth (or the eighteenth) century, it is surely not about to end in the
twenty-frst. Personally, I simply do not blieve this, and I have made
the case in several recent writings.12 My main point here, however, is
that this line of argument is in no way anti-Eurocentric, since it accepts
the basic set of values that have been put frward by Europe in its pe
riod of world dominance and thereby in fct denies and/or undermines
competing value systems that were, or are, in honor in other parts of
the world.
I think we have to fnd sounder bases fr being against Eurocentrism
in social science, and sounder ways of pursuing this objective. For the
third frm of criticism -that whatever Europe did has been analyzed
incorrectly and subjected to inappropriate extrapolations, which have
had dangerous consequences fr both science and the plitica world -
is indeed true. I think we have to start with questioning the assumption
that what Europe did was a positive achievement. I think we have to
engage ourselves in making a carefl balance sheet of what has been ac
complished by capitalist civilzation during its historical life and assess
whether the pluses are indeed greater than the minuses. This is some
thing I tried once, and I encourage others to do the same.13 My own
balance sheet is negative overall, and therefore I do not consider the
capitalist system to have been evid
e
nce of human progress. Rather, I
consider it to have ben the consequence of a breakdown in the historic
barriers against this particular version of an exploitative system. I con
sider that the fact that China, India, the Arab world, and other regions
did not go frward to capitalism evidence that they were better immu
nized against the toxin, and to their historic credit. To turn their credit
into something that they must explain away is to me the quintessential
frm of Eurocentrism.
Let me be clear. I believe that, in a major historical systems (civ
ilizatons), there has aways been a ertain degree of commodifcation
and hence of commercialization. As a consequence, there have always
been persons who sought profts in the market. But there is a world of
difference between a historical system in which there exist some entre
preneurs or merchants or "capitalists" and one in which the capitalist
ethos and practice are dominant. Prior to the modern world-system,
what happened in each of these other historical systems is that when
ever capitalist strata got too welthy or too successfl or too intrusive on
existing institutions, other institutional groups (cultural, religious, mili
tary, political) attacked them, utilizing both their substantial power and
their value systems to assert the need to restrain and contain the proft
oriented strata. As a result, these strata were frustrated in their attempts
to impose their practices on the historical system as a priority. They
were often crudely and rudely stripped of accumulated capital, and in
any case made to give obeisance to values and practices that inhibited
them. This is what I mean by the antitoxins that contained the virus.
What happened in the Western world is that, for a specifc set of
reasons that were momentary (or conjunctural, or accidental), the anti
toxins were less available or less effcacious, and the virus spread rapidly,
and then proved itself invulnerable R later attempts N reversing its ef
fects. The European world-economy of the sixteenth century became
irremediably capitalist. And once capitalism consolidated itself in this
historical system, once this system was governed by the priority of the
ceaseless accumulation of capital, it acquired a kind of strength vis-a-vis
other historical systems that enabled it to expand geographically until it
absorbed physically the entire globe, the frst historical system ever to
achieve this kind of total expansion.
The fct that capitalism had this kind of breakthrough in the Eu
ropean arena, and then exanded to cover the globe, does not however
mean that this was inevitable or desirable or in any sense progressive. In
my view, it was none of these. And an anti-Eurocentric point of view
must start by asserting this.
I would prefer therefore to reconsider what is not universalist in the
universalist doctrines that have emerged fom the historical system that
is capitalist, our modern world-system. The modern world-system has
developed structures of knowledge that are signifcantly diferent fom
previous structures of knowledge. It is often said that what is different
is the development of scientifc thought. But it seems clear that this
is not true, however splendid modern scientifc advances are. Scientifc
thought long antedates the modern world an< is present in all major
civilizationalzones.JhishasLeenmagisteriallydemonstratedfr China
inthe corpus ofworkthat|osepheedhamlaunched.'
Vhat is specinc to the structures of knowledge in the modern
world-systemratheristheconceptofthe"twocultures. "ootherhis-
toricalsystemhasinstitutedalndamentaldivorcebetweenscienceand
philosophy/humanities, orwhat ! thinkwould be better characterized
asthe separation ofthe quest fr thetrue and the quest for the good
and the beautihI. lndeed, itwas not aII that easy to enshrine this di-
vorcewithinthegeocuItureofthe modernworId-system.lttookthree
centuries before the spIit was institutionaIized. Today, however, it is
FundamentaI to the geocuIture and frms the basis of our university
systems.
Thisconceptual splithasenabled the modern world to putfrward
the bizarre concept ofthevalue-neutral specialist, whose ob|ecuve as-
sessments ofreality could frm the basis not merely of engineering
decisions,inthebroadestsenseoftheterm)butofsociopoliticalchoices
as well. Shielding the scientists f:omcollective assessment, and inef
fctmergingthemintothetechnocrats, didliberatescientistsfromthe
dead hand ofintellectually irrelevant authority. 8ut simultaneously, it
removedthe ma|orunderlyingsocialdecisionswe havebeen takingfor
the last 6xe hundred years hom substantive ,as opposed to technical)
scientinc debate. The idea that science is over here and sociopolitical
decisionsare overthere isthecore conceptthat sustains Eurocentrism,
since the only universaIist propositions that have been acceptable are
those that are Eurocentric. Any argument that reinfrces this separa-
tion ofthetwocuItures thus sustains Eurocentrism. lfone deniesthe
speciGcityofthemodernworId,onehasnopIausibIe wayofarguingfr
the reconstruction ofknowIedge structures, and therefre no pIausibIe
wayofarriving at intelIigent and substantively rational alternativesto
the existing world-system.
!nthelasttwentyyearsorso,thelegitimacyofthisdivorcehasbeen
challengedfrthenrsttimeinasignincantway.Jhisisthemeaningof
the ecology movement, frexample. Andthis isthe underlyingcentral
issueinthepublic attackonEurocentrism.Jhechallengeshaveresulted
inso-calledsciencewarsandculturewars,whichhavethemselves often
been obscurantistand oblscating. !fwe areto emergewithareunited,
and thereby non-Eurocentric, structure of knowledge, it is absolutely
essential that we not be diverted into sidepaths that avoid this central
issue. !fwe areto constructanalternativeworld-system to the onethat
184 EUROCENTRISM AND ITS AVATARS
is today in grievous crisis, we must treat simultaneously and inextricably
the issues of the true and the good.
And if we are to do that we have to recognize that something special
was indeed done by Europe in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries that
did indeed transform the world but in a direction whose negative con
sequences are upon us today. We must cease trying to deprive Europe
of its specifcity on the deluded premise that we are thereby depriving
it of an illegitimate credit. Qite the contrary. We must flly acknowl
edge the particularity of Europe's reconstruction of the world because
only then will it be possible to transcend it and to arrive hopeflly at a
more inclusively universalist vision of human possibility, one that avoids
none of the difficult and imbricated problems of pursuing the true and
the good in tandem.
Chuper I2
Te Structures of Knowledge, or
How Many Ways May We Know?
The report of the Gulbenkian Commission for the Restructuring of the
Social Sciences bars the title Open the Social Sciences. 1 The title bears
witness to the sense of the commission that the social sciences have
become closed of, or have closed themselves of, fom a fll under
standing of social reality, and that the methods that the social sciences
had historically developed in order to pursue this understanding may
themselves today be obstacles to this very understanding. Let me try
to summarize what I think the report says abut the past two hundred
years, and then turn to what this implies fr what we should now do.
The commission saw the enterprise of the social sciences as a histor
ical construction, institutionalized primarily in the period 1850-1945.
We emphasized that this construction was therefore quite recent and
that the way in which social science was constructed was neither in
evitable nor unchangeable. We tried to explain what elements in the
nineteenth-century world led thoe who constructed this edifice to make
the decisions that were made concerning the distinctions that were cre
ated between a named list of "disciplines." We sought to outline the
underlying logic that accounted for why the multiple disciplines adopted
various epistemologies and why each chose certain practical methodolo
gies as their preferred ones. We also tried to explain why the post-1945
world fund this logic constraining and set in motion a series of changes
in the academy that had the effect of undermining the distinctions
among the disciplines.
The picture that we drew of the history pf the social sciences was that
of a U-shaped curve. Initialy, fom 1750 to 1850, the situation was very
confsed. There were many, many names being used as the appellations
Presentation at conference, "Which Sciences for Tomorrow? Dialogue on the Gulbnkian Reprt:
e:e8:::a/8::e:es,Stanford University, Pal
?
Alto, California, Jue 2-3, 1996.
1 85
1 86 THE STRUCTURES OF KNOWLEDGE
ofproto-discipIines, andnone or few seemedto command wide sup-
port.Then,intheperiodhom 1850 to1945, thismuItiplicityofnames
was reduced to a smI standard group cIearIy distinguished the ones
homtheothers. lnourview,therewereonIysxsuchnamesthatwere
very wideIy accepted throughout the schoIarIy worId. 8ut then, inthe
priodhom1945 on,thenumberofIegitimatenamesofneIdsofstudy
hasbeenonce again expanding, andthereis everysignthatthenumber
wiII continuetogmw. Iurthermore,whereasin1945 therestilIseemed
to be cIeardemarcations that separated one discipIine hom another,
these distinctions have inthe subsequentperiodbeen stediIy eroded,
sothattodaythere is considerabIe de fcto overIap and confusion. ln
short,wehaveinasensereturnedtothesituationof1750-1850, onein
whichaIargenumberofcategoriesdonotprovideausemItaxonomy.
8utthis overIap and conmsion are the Ieast of ourprobIems. This
processofdenningthecategoriesofthesociaIscienceshasbeenoccur-
ringwithinthecontextofamuchIargerturmoiIthatgoesbeyondthe
sociaI sciences andimpIicatestheentireworIdofknowledge.Ve have
beenliving fortwo hundredyears inastructure oftheorganization of
knowIedge inwhichphiIosophyand science havebeen considered dis-
tinctive,indeedvirtualIyantagonistic,frmsofknowIedge.ltissutary
torememberthatthiswas notwaysso. This divisionbetweentheso-
caIIedtwocuItures isaIsoaratherrecentsociaIconstruction, onIy abit
oIderthanthatwhichdividedupthesociaIsciencesintoaspecinedIist
ofdiscipIines. ltwasinfct virtuIyunknownanywhere inthe worId
bfore the middIe ofthe eighteenth century.
ThesecuIarizationofsociety,whichhasbeenacontinuingfeatureof
the-ueve@ eft o0e
g ,__ lthe
worId ofknowledge zs a fwo-segp;qess. _ ,.s(
r
r
-
|ection o fo@ as the excIusiv, pr _minant,y_de of
k ong.
[
aced..theoIog, 1hatis, humans.repIacedOod
as|rce of.knowIedge. ln practice, this meant ashi ofIocusof
th-uthoritieswhocouIdprocIaimthevaIidityofknowIedge. lnpIace
ofpriestswhohad some speciaIaccesstothewordofOd,wehonored
rationaI men who had some speciaIinsight into naturaI Iaw, ornatu-
raIIaws.Thisshiwas notenoughfrsome persons,whoarguedthat
phiIosophywas mereIyavariantoftheoIogy.both procIaimed knowI-
edge as being ordained by authority, in the one case ofpriests, inthe
otherofphiIosophers.Thesecriticsinsistedonthenecessityofevidence
drawnhomthestudyofempiricaIreaIity. Such evidence,theysaid,was
THE STRUCURES OF KNOWLEDGE 1 87
the basis of another frm ofknowledge they called "science. " 8y the
eighteenth century, these protagonists of science were openlyre| ecting
philosophyas merelydeductive speculation, and proclaimingthat their
frm ofknowledgewas the onlyrationalform.
On theone hand, thisre| ectionofphilosophyseemedtoargueare-
|ection ofauthorities. !twas in that sense "democratic."The scientists
seemed to be saying that anyone could establish knowledge, provided
he (or she) usedtherightmethods.Andthevalidityofanyknowledge
that any scientists asserted couId b tested by anyone eIse, simpIy by
repIicating the empiricaIobservations and manipuIation of data. Since
thismethodofassertingknowIedgeseemedtobecapabIeofgenerating
practicaIinventionsasweII,itIaidcIaimtobeingaparticuIarIypwerfuI
modeof knowing. lt was not Iong, therefre,beforescienceachieveda
dominantpIace inthehierarchyofknowIedgeproduction.
There was one ma|or problem, however, in this "divorce" between
philosophy and science. Theology and philosophy had both tradition-
alIy asserted thattheycouldknowtwo kinds ofthings. bothwhatwas
true andwhatwasgood. Empirical science didnotfelithadthetools
iodiscernwhatwas good, onlywhatwas true. The scientists handled
thisdifncultywithsomepanache.Theysimplysaidtheywouldtryonly
toascertainwhatwastrueandtheywouldleave the search frthegood
in the hands of the philosophers (and the theologians). Theydid this
knowinglyand,todefendthemselves,with some disdain.Theyasserted
that it was more important to knowwhatwas true. Eventually some
wouldevenassertthat itwasimpossibletoknowwhatwas good, only
what was true. This division between the true and the goo consti-
tuted the underIyingIogicofthe"twocuItures. "PhiIosophy(ormore
broadIy, the humanities)wasreIegatedtothesearchfrthegood (and
thebeautau). Science insistedthatithadthemonopoIyon thesearch
forthe true.
Therewas a secondproblemaboutthis divorce.Thepath of empir-
ical science was infact less democratic than itseemed to claim. There
rapidly arose the question of who was entitled to ad|udicate between
competingscientiGcclaimstotruth.Theanswerthatthescientistsgave
was that onIy
the community of scientistscould do this. 8ut since sci-

entincknowledgewasinevitablyandincreasinglyspecialized,thismeant
thatonlysubsets ofscientists(thoseineach subspecialty)weredeemed
part of the group that had a claim to|udge the validity of scientiGc
truth. !n point of fct, these groups were no larger than the group
of philosophers who had previously claimed the ability to judge each
other's insights into natural law or laws.
There was a third problem about this divorce. Most persons were un
willing truly to separate the search fr the true and the good. However
hard scholars worked to establish a strict segregation of the two activ
ities, it ran against the psychological grain, especially when the object
of study was social reality. The desire to reunify the two searches re
turned clandestinely, in the work of both scientists and philosophers,
even while they were busy denying its desirability, or even possibility.
But because the reunifcation was clandestine, it impaired our collective
ability to appraise it, to criticize it, and to improve it.
three diffculties were kept in check fr two hundred years, but
they have returned to haunt us in the last third of the twentieth cen
tury. The resolution of these diffculties constitutes today our central
intellectual task.
There have been two major attacks on the trimodal division of
knowledge into the natural sciences, the humanities, and the social sci
ences. And neither of these attacks has come fom within the social
sciences. These attacks have come to be called "complexity studies" (in
the case of the natural sciences) and "cultural studies" (in the case of the
humanities). In reality, starting fom quite diferent standpoints, both
of these movements have taken as their target of attack the same object,
the dominant mode of natural science since the seventeenth century,
that is, that frm of science that is that based on Newonian mechanics.
To be sure, in the early twentieth century Newtonian physics had
been challenged by quantum physics. But quantum physics still shared
the fndamental premise of Newtonian physics that physical reality was
determined and had temporal symmetry, that therefore these processes
were linear, and that fluctuations always returned to equilibria. In this
view, nature was passive, and scientists could describe its fnctioning in
terms of eternal laws, which could eventually be asserted in the frm
of simple equations. When we say that science as a mode of knowing
became dominant in the nineteenth century, it is this set of premises
of which we are speaking. That which could not be ft into this set of
premises, fr example, entropy (which is the description of necessary
transformations in matter over time), was and is interpreted as an ex
ample of our scientifc ignorance, which could and would eventually be
overcome. Entropy was seen as a negative phenomenon, a sort of death
of material phenomena.
THE STRUCTURES OF KNOWLEDGE 1 89
Since the late nineteenth century, but especially in the last twenty
years, a large group of natural scientists has been challenging these
premises. They see the fture as intrinsicaly indeterminate. They
see equilibria as exceptional and see material phenomena as moving
constantly far fom equilibria. They see entropy as leading to bifr
cations that bring new (albeit unpredictable) orders out of chaos, and
therefore the process is not one of death but of creation. They see
auto-organization as the fndamental process of al matter. And they
resume this in two basic slogans: not temporal symmety, but the arrow
of time; not simplicity as the ultimate product of science, but rather the
explanation of complexity.
It is important to see what complexity studies is and what it is not.
It is not
;
rejection of science as a mode of knowing. It is a rejection of
a science based on a nature that is passive, in which all truth is already
inscribed in the structures of the universe. What it is rather is the be
lief that "the possible is 'richer' than the real."2 It is the assertion that
al matter has a history, and it is its sinuous history that presents ma
terial phenomena with the successive alternatives between which each
"chooses" throughout its existence. It is not the belief that it is impos
sible to know, that is, to understand how the real world operates. It is
the assertion that this process of understanding is far more complex that
science traditionaly asserted that it was.
Cultural studies attacked the same determinism and universalism
under attack by the scientists of complexity. But fr the most part those
who put frward these views neglected to distinguish between New
tonian science and the science of complexity, or in many cases to be
aware of the latter. Cultural studies attacked universalism primarily on
the grounds that the assertions about social reality that were made in
its name were not in fact universal. It represented an attack against the
views of the dominant strata in the world-system that generalized their
realities into universal human realities and thereby "frgot" whole seg
ments of humanity, not only in the substantive statements but in the
very epistemology of their research.
At the same time, cultura studies represented an attack on the tra
ditional mode of humanistic scholarship,. which had asserted universal
values in the realm of the.good and the beautiful (the so-caled canons)
and analyzed texts internaly as incarnating these universal apprecia
tions. Cultural studies insists that texts are social phenomena, created
in a certain context and read or appreciated in a certain context.
Classical physics had sought to eliminate certain "truths" on the
grounds that these seeming anomalies merely reflected the fact that we
were still ignorant of the underlying universal Dw. Classical human
ities had sought to eliminate certain appreciations of "the good and
beautiful" on the grounds that these seeming divergences of appreci
ation merely reflected the fct that those who made them had not yet
acquired good taste. In objecting to these traditional views in the natu
ral sciences and the humanities, both movements -complexity studies
and cultural studies -sought to "open" the feld of knowledge to new
possibilities that had been closed of by the nineteenth-century divorce
between science and philosophy.
Where then does social science m in this picture? In the nineteenth
centu, the social sciences, fced with the "two cultures," internalized
their struggle as a Methodemtreit. There were those who leaned toward
the humanities and utilized what was called an idiographic epistemol
ogy. They emphasized the particularity of all social phenomena, the
limited utility of all generalizations, the need fr empathetic under
standing. And there were those who leaned toward the natural sciences
and utilized what was called a nomothetic epistemoloy. They empha
sized the logical parallel between human processes and aother material
processes. They sought to join physics in the search for universal, simple
laws that held across time and space. Social science was like someone
tied to two horses galloping in opposite directions. Social science had
no epistemological stance of its own and was torn apart by the struggle
between the two colossi of the natural sciences and the humanities.
Today we fnd we are in a very different situation. On the one hand,
complexity studies is emphasizing the arrow of time, a theme that has
always been central to social science. It emphasizes- complexity and ad
mits that human social systems are the most complex of all systems.
And it emphasizes creativity in nature, thus extending to all nature what
was previously thought to b a unique feature of Homo sapiens.
Cultural studies is emphasizing the social context within which all
texts, all communications, are made and are received. It is thus utilizing
a theme that has always been central to social science. It emphasizes
the nonunifrmity of social reality and the necessity of appreciating the
rationality of the other.
These two movements of er social science an incredible opportunity
to overcome its derivative and divided character and to place the study
of social reality within an integrated view of the study of all material
THE STRUCTURES OF KNOWLEDGE 1 91
reality. Far fom bing torn apart by horses galloping in opposite direc
tions, social science, I believe, lies in the direction that both complexity
studies and cultural studies are moving. In a sense, what we are seeing is
the "social scientization" of all knowledge.
Of course, like all opportunities, we shall only getfrtuna if we seize
it. What is now possible is a rational restructuring of the study of social
reality. It can be one that understands that the arrow of time ofers the
possibility of creation. It can be one that understands that the multiplic
ity of human patterns of behavior is precisely the feld of our research,
and that we may approach an understanding of what is possible only
when we shed our assumptions about what is universal.
Finaly we are all ofered the possibility of reintgrating the knowl
edge of what is true and what is good. The probabilities of our ftures
are constructed by us within the famework of the structures that limit
us. The good is the same 3 the true in the long run, for the true is the
choice of the optimally rational, substantively rational, alternatives that
present themselves to us. The idea that there are two cultures, a frtiori
that these two cultures are in contradiction to each other, is a gigantic
mystifi cation. The tripartite division of organized knowledge is an ob
stacle to our fuller understanding of the world. The task bfore us is to
reconstruct our institutions in such a way that we maximize our chances
of futhering collective knowledge. This is an enormous task, given the
inherent conservatism of institutional authorities and the danger such a
reconstruction poses to those who benefit from the inegalitarian distri
bution of resources and pwer in the world. But the fact that it is an
enormous task does not mean that it is not doable. We have entered a
bifurcation in the structures of knowledge, which appears in many ways
to b chaotic. But of course we shall emerge fom it with a new order.
This order is not determined, but it is determinable. But we can only
have fortuna if we seize it.
Chuper IJ
Te Rise and Future Demise of
World-Systems Analysis
World-systems analysis as an explicit perspective within social science
dates fom the 1970s, although of course it refects a point of view that
has a long history and builds on much earlier work. It never put it
self frward as a branch of sociology or of social science. It did not
think of itself as the "sociology of the world," side by side with ur
ban sociology or the sociology of small groups or political sociology.
Rather x presented itself as a critique of many of the premises of ex
isting social science, as a mode of what I have called "unthinking social
v
" science.
It is fr this reason that I, for one, have always resisted using the
term "world-systems theory," fequently used to describe what is being
argued, especially by nonpractitioners, and have insisted on calling our
work "world-systems analysis." It is much too early to theorize in any
serious way, and when we get to that point it is social science and not
world-systems that we should be theorizing. I regard the work of the
past twenty years and of some years to come as the work of clearing the
underbrush, so that we may build a more usefl famework fr social
science.
If world-systems analysis took shape in the 1970s, it was because
conditions for its emergence were ripe within the world-system. Let
us review what they were. The prime factor can be summarized as the
world revolution of 1968 -both the events themselves and the un
derlying conditions that gave rise to the events. Let us remember the
shape of U.S. and world social science of the 1950s and 1960s. The
biggest change in world social science in the twenty-fve years afer
1945 had been the discovery of the contemporary reality of the Third
Paper delivered at the Ninety-frst Annual Meeting of the American Sociological Assoiation,
New York, Augut 16, 1996.
1 92
THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSIS 1 93
World. This geopolitical discovery had the effect of undermining the
nineteenth-century construction of social science that had created sepa
rate theories and disciplines for the study of Europe/North America on
the one hand and for that of the rest of the world on the other hand.
After 1945, social science became, was frced to become, geographi
cally integrated, so to speak. Thus it became legitimate, but only then,
for persons called sociologists or historians or political scientists to do
research on and in Afica or Asia or Latin America. 1
This was the era of area studies, and area studies changed the so
cial organization of social science, first in the United States and then
in most other parts of the world.2 In seeking to justify area studies in
tellectuall
y
, its advocates faced a fndamental epistemological dilemma.
They wished to argue that the theories of social science applied to all
areas of the world, and not merely to Europe/North America. Previ
ously the theories of the nomothetic social sciences had been applied
de fcto only to what was thought of as the modern "civilized" world,
and only Europe/North America was considered as belonging to such
a world. In this sense, area studies proposed "universalizing universal
ism. " At the same time, however, proponents of area studies wished to
argue that this could not be done simply by applying the generalizations
previously developed in Europe/North America to the Third World.
Conditions in the Third World, said the area studies people, were quite
different. After all, if they had not been different, why would we have
needed area studies?
Arguing that conditions are the same and arguing simultaneously that
they are diferent is not the easiest thing to do. However, area studies
people came up with a clever, and plausible, solution to the apparent
dilemma. They based their work on a view that had already been wide
spread in the social sciences, to wit, that there exist stages through which
society goes (and therefore societies go), and that these stages repre
sent evolutionary progress. Applied to the Third World, this theory was
baptized "modernization theory" or developmentalism. Modernization
theory argued quite simply the fllowing: al societies go through a de
fined set of stages in a process ending in modernity. The operational
definition o
f
a society was a state, presently in existence as either a sov
ereign member of the interstate system or a colony destined one day to
become a sovereign member. The names of these stages varied among
the theorists, but the general idea remained the same. The point of the
theorizing was to fgure. out how states moved fom stage to stage, to
1 94 THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSI S
enable us to indicate at what stage given states presently were, and to
help all states arrive at modernity.
The epistemological advantages of the theory were great. states
were the same, insofar 3 they went through identical stages for identical
reasons. But all states were also different, in that they presently were at
diferent stages, and the timing of the movements of each fom stage to
stage was particular. The political advantages of the theory were great
as well. The theory enabled all and sundry to engage in applying the
theory to the practical situation by advising governments how best to
act to speed up the process of moving upward along the stages. The
theory also justifed a considerably increased allocation of governmental
fnds (more or less everywhere) to social scientists, especially to those
who claimed to be working on "development."
The limitations of the theory were easy to discern as well. Modern
ization theory purported to be based on the systematic comparison of
independent cases, and this presumed a dubious and totaly unproven
premise, that each state operated autonomously and was substantially
unaffected by fctors external to its borders. The theory further pre
sumed a general law of social development (the so-called stages), a
process frthermore that was presumed to be progressive, bth of which
arguments were also undemonstrated. And the theory therefre pre
dicted that those states currently at earlier stages of development could,
would, and should arrive at an endpoint in which they were essentialy
clones of whatever was considered by the theorist the model of the most
"advanced" state or states.
Politically, the implications were clear. If a state at a so-called lower
stage wanted to resemble a state at a so-called advanced stage in terms
of prosperity and internal political profle, it had best copy the pat
tern of the advanced state, and implicitly therefre had best fllow the
advice of that state. In a world defned by the rhetoric of the Cold
War, this meant that states were adjured by some to fllow the model
of the United States and by others to fllow the model of the USSR.
Nonalignment was disqualified by objective scientifc analysis.
Of course, these political implications were the object of ferocious
refsal by the revolutionaries of 1968. It was an easy jump fr them
(and others) to deny the epistemological premises. This created the at
mosphere in which there was receptivity fr the kind of protest that
world-systems analysis represented. It is important to remember this
original intention of world-systems analysis, the protest against mod-
THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSI S 1 95
ernization theory, i f we are to understand the directions i n which it
has moved since. I see fur major thrusts to the work we have done
collectively. None of these thrusts has been exclusively the work of per
sons involved in world-systems analysis per se. But in each case, those
involved in world-systems analysis have played an important role in
pursuing and defning the thrust.
The first thrust was globality. It fllowed from the fmous concern
with the unit of analysis, said to be a world-system rather than a society/
state. To be sure, modernization theory had been international, in that
it insisted on comparing systematically all states. But it had never been
global, since it posited no emergent characteristics of a world-system,
indeed never spoke of a world-system at all. World-systems analysis in
sisted on
s
eeing all parts of the world-system as parts of a "world," the
parts being impossible to understand or analyze separately. The charac
teristics of any given state at T _ were said to be not the result of some
"primordial" characteristic at Ti. but rather the outcome of processes of
the system, the world-system. This is the meaning of Gunder Frank's
fmous frmula, the "development of underdevelopment."
The second thrust was historiciy, and it followed fom the first. If the
processes were systemic, then the history-the entire history -of the
system (as opposed to the history of subunits, taken separately and com
paratively) was the crucial element in understanding the present state of
the system. To be sure, for this purpose one had to make a decision
on the temporal boundaries of the systemic processes, and in practice
this has been the subject of contentious debate. Nonetheless, the overall
. thrust was to push analysis away fom exclusively contemporary data, or
even fom data covering only the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, in
the direction of Braudel's longue duie.
The third thrust was uniisciplinarity, and it fllowed fom the
second. If there were historically emergent and historically evolving pro
cesses in the world-system, what would lead us to assume that these
processes could be separated into distinguishable and segregated streams
with particular (even opposed) logics? The burden of proof was surely
on those who argued the distinctiveness of the economic, plitical, and
sociocultural arenas. World-systems analy!is pref erred to insist on seeing
"totalities. "
The furth thrust was therefore ho/ism. This thrust was historico
epistemological, and it fllowed fom all the previous ones. The argu
ments of world-systems. analysis led its advocates to be dubious of, even
opposed to, the boundary lines within the social sciences, as they had
been historically constructed in the period 1850-1945. These bound
aries did not seem to hold water, and thus there was talk of restructuring
knowledge. Indeed, holism leads to rethinking as wel the historica y
constructed and now-consecrated great divide between the sciences and
the humanities, and perhaps unthinking it as well.
It is important to distinguish these fur thrusts fom currents that
used seemingly similar terminology but were in no sense intended as
protests against the dominant modes of social science.
Globalism was not "globalization." As used by most persons in the
last ten years, "globalization" refers to some assertedly new, chronolog
ically recent, process in which states are said to be no longe primary
units of decision making, but are now, only now, finding themselves lo
cated in a structure in which something called the "world market," a
somewhat mystical and surely reified entity, dictates the rules.
Historicity was not "social science history." As used by most per
sons in the last twenty-five years, "social science history" refers to the
need fr persons dealing with past data (so-called historians) to use
that data to test social science generalizations derived fom the anal
ysis of contemporary data. Social science history is in many ways an
antihistorical process and relegates empirical work (especially about the
past) to the position of hierarchical subordination to so-called theoreti
cal work. Social science history is compatible with globalization but not
with globality.
Unidisciplinarity was not "multidisciplinarity." Multidisciplinarity
accepted the legitimacy of the boundaries of the social sciences but
asked the various practitioners to read and use each other's findings, in
an additive fshion. It was the belief that more cooks often improve the
broth. It resisted the study of totaities on the grounds that it is hard to
specify the data in ways amenable to testable propositions, and therefore
encouraged vague and nondisprovable argumentation.
And finally, holism was not a rehash of "general education." General
education had accepted the basic premises of the modern divisioning of
knowledge into three superdomains: the natural sciences, the human
ities, and (in between the so-called two cultures) the social sciences .
General education was the case for making all scholars (and indeed
all educated persons) sensitive to the premises underlying each of the
separate domains. Holism asks whether the superdomains are in fact
diferent kinds of knowledge, or ought to b thought of in this way.
THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSI S 1 97
This debate is directly relevant to the crucial question of the relation of
the quest fr the true and the quest for the good.
If I have emphasized not only what the thrusts of world-systems
analysis have been but also what they have not been, it is because we are
running the danger of success. It is because of the strength, and not the
weakness, of our effrts that our terminology is in the process of being
appropriated for other, indeed opposite, purposes. This can cause serious
confsion in the general scholarly public and, even. worse, may lead to
confsion on our own part, thus undermining our ability to pursue the
tasks we have set ourselves.
I have in my title used the phrase "rise and fture demise of world
systems an!lysis." So far, I have talked only about the rise. Wherein do
I see a demise? The demise of a movement, and world-systems analysis
has been essentially a movement within contemporary social science,
derives from its contradictions and from the eventual exhaustion of its
utilty. We are not there yet, but we are clearly moving in the direction
of such a demise, or if you will permit my prejudices, a bifurcation.
What are the contradictions of world-systems analysis?
The first is that world-systems analysis is precisely not a theory or a
mode of theorizing, but a perspective and a critique of other perspec
tives. It is a very powerul critique, and I personally believe the critique
is devastating fr a large number of the premises on which much of so
cial science presently operates. Critiques are destructive; they intend to
be. They tear down, but they do not by themselves build up. I called this
earlier the process of clearing the underbrush. Once one has cleared the
underbrush, however, one has only a clearing, not a new construction
but only the possibility of building one.
Old theories never die, but they usualy don't just fde awy either.
They first hide, then mutate. Thus, the work of critique of the old
theories may seem never-ending. The risk is that we shall become so
enamored of this task that we may lose ourselves in it and refse the
necessary risk of moving on ourselves. To the extent that we shall fail
to do this, we shal become redundant and irrelevant. At which point
the mutants cqme back, stronger than ever. The attempt in the 1990s to
relegitimize modernization theory is an instance of this, albeit thus far
one that has been rather weak. L I might continue the medical meta
phor, the problem today of world-systems analysis is analogous to the
problem of overused antibiotics. The solution is to move frward fom
medical therapy to preventive medicine.
There is a second problem with critiques, especially critiques that are
past the moment of initial shock and vigor. Critiques are not that diff
cult to pseudo-co-opt. I have tried already to indicate the ways in which
our terminology, or something close to it, is bing used for purposes
other than we had in mind, which then can have the efect of corrupt
ing what we ourselves do. So then this becomes a question of "physician,
heal thyself." But I am making more than a general admonition always
to b self-critical. I am suggesting that there is a tendency to frget our
own original critical stance, as we hail those who seem to be emulating
us, and that this tendency poses considerable risks both to the criti
cal task and to the putative task of reconstruction. 'At the end of the
road, we risk fnding ourselves in the situation of so many intellectual
movements, a name that has become a shell.
The third problem is that we have shifed over the years fom crit
icizing the ways in which we analyze the contemporary situation in
pripheral zones of the world-economy to criticizing the ways in which
the history of the modern world has been written, to criticizing the
theories that are supposed to explain the modern world-system, to
criticizing the methodologies used in the historical social sciences, to
criticizing the ways in which knowledge institutions have been con
structed. We have been fllowing the paths of our critiques and of
answering those who have in turn been critical of our work. It is as
though we have been going through doors to fnd other doors behind
them, in a constant regress. Perhaps the problem is deeper than we have
imagined.
Perhaps the problem is the entire thought-system of the capitalist
world-economy. This has been suggested, to be sure, by the so-called
postmodernists. I am sympathetic to many of their critiques (most of
which, however, we have been saying more clearly, and indeed earlier).
However, I find them on the whole neither suffciently "post"-modern
nor sufficiently reconstructive. They will certainly not do our job for us.
To be a movement within social science had, and has, certain distinct
advantages. It enables us to group frces, to clarify our critiques, and to
sustain each other in a sometimes hostile environment. On the whole,
I give us good marks for how we have conducted ourselves. On the
one hand, we have allowed multiple views to coexist, and thus avoided
becoming a sect. On the other hand, we have not defined our program
so loosely that it has lacked critical teeth, which is what would have
happened if we had fllowed the recurrent suggestions that we rename
THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSIS 1 99
ourselves (and therefore blend into) "the sociology of development" or
"political economy" or "global sociology. "
Nonetheless, being a movement has certain distinct disadvantages. I
am often appalled by the two-line summaries of our perspective one can
fnd in the books of others who have manifestly read virtually nothing of
what we have written. I am equally appalled by the suavity with which
our research findings are appropriated (and misappropriated) not only
without credit but even more important without any integration of the
underlying approach that gave ris to the research fndings. This is in
part inevitable, since movements tend to talk to themselves, and after a
while this constrains radicaly their impact.
There is of course an aternative road we might fllow that might
overcome "the limitations of bing an intellectua movement. That road
is that of moving into the very center of social science, not as a move
ment but as consensua premise. How might we do that? The fcetious
answer would be that we should be writing, or some of us should be
writing, general textbooks fr frst-year students of social science. The
real answer is that persons involved in world-systems analysis should
be addressing, and addressing urgenty, some very fndamental ques
tions, questions that in my view can be satisfactorily addressed only
if one has unthought nineteenth-century social science and structures
of knowledge and thoroughly absorbed the lessons of world-systems
analysis.
Alow me to list some of these fndamental questions:
What is the nature of the distinctive arena of knowledge we may cl
social science, u there is one? How do we define its parameters and
social role? In particular, in what ways, if ay, is such a field to be dis
tinguished fom the humanities on the one side and the natural sciences
on the other?
What is the relation, theoreticaly, between social science and social
movements? between social science and power structures?
Are there multiple kinds of social systems (I would prefer the con
cept "historical systems"), and, if so, what are the defining features that
distinguish them?
!
Do such historical systems have a natural history or not? If so, can this
history be called an evolutionary history?
How is TimeSpace socialy constructed, and what diferences does this
make for the conceptualiztions underlyng social science activity?
200 THE RI SE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSI S
What are the processes of transition fom one historical system to
another? What kinds of metaphors are plausible: self-organzation,
creativity, order out of chaos?
What is the theoretical relation between the quest for truth and the quest
for a just society?
How can we conceive our existing historical system (world-system)? And
what can we sy about its rise, its structure, and its fture demise, in the
light of our answers to the other questions?
As you can see, the last is the question with which we started. A
number of the other questions have been worrying various persons who
consider themselves part of the network of scholars involved in world
systems analysis. Furthermore, of course, many other scholars, present
and past, have worried about these questions, or at least some of them.
The point however is to see that these questions are interrelated and
can really be answered only in relation to each other, that is, fom a
world-systems perspective.
The other point is that world-systems analysts are, on the whole, bet
ter trained than most social scientists today to address these questions as
an interrelated set. When we do begin to address them in this way, we
shall no longer be acting primarily as a movement within social sci
ence, but we shall be laying claim to frmulating the central questions
of the enterprise. Is this hubris? Not really. As world-systems analysts,
we know that intellectual activities are a matter not simply of intelli
gence or will but of social timing, in terms of the world-system. It is
because the historical system in which we live is in terminal crisis that
there exists the chance of addressing these questions in ways that can
make possible substantively rational social constructions. This was not
a possibility available to nineteenth-century scholars, however insight
t or masterly they were. It is because the legitimacy of the hierarchies
that are fndamental to the capitalist world-economy -hierarchies of
class, of race, of gender - is being fndamentally challenged (bth
politically and intellectualy) that it may be possible to construct, for
the frst time, a more inclusive and relatively more objctive social
science.
It is the times that make it possible, again for the frst time, to stand
on the shoulders of those nineteenth-century giants and see something
byond, provided we have the energy and the will. It is the times that
permit us, without disgracing ourselves, to fllow Danton's exhortation:
THE RISE AND FUTURE DEMI SE OF WORLD-SYSTEMS ANALYSIS 201
"Oe l'audace, encore de l 'audace, et tou|ours de l'audace." These are
ourtimes, anditisthemomentwhensocialscientistswilldemonstrate
whetherornottheywillbecapableofconstructingasocial sciencethat
will speak to the worldwide social transformation through which we
shall b living.
Chuter I4
Social Science and the Quest
for a Just Society
Macro and micro constitute an antinomy that has long ben widely used
throughout the social sciences and indeed in the natural sciences as well.
In the last twenty years, the antinomy global/local has also come into
wide use in the social sciences. A third pair of terms, structure/agency,
has also come to be widely adopted and is central to the recent literature
of cultural studies. The three antinomies are not exactly the same, but in
the minds of many scholars they overlap very heavily, and as shorthand
phrases they are often used interchangeably.
Macro/micro u a pair that has the tone merely of preference. Some
persons prefer to study macrophenomena, others microphenomena. But
global/local, and even more structure/agency, are pairs that have pas
sions attached to them. Many persons feel that only the global or
only the local make sense as fameworks of analysis. The tensions sur
rounding structure/agency are if anything stronger. The terms are ofen
used as moral clarion calls; they are felt by many to indicate the sole
legitimate rationale fr scholarly work.
Why should there be such intensity in this debate? It is not diff
cult to discern. We are collectively confonted with a dilemma that has
been discussed by thinkers for several thousand years. Beneath these
antinomies lies the debate of determinism versus fee will, which has
fund countless avatars within theology, within philosophy, and within
science. It is therefore not a minor issue, nor is it one abut which, over
the thousands of years, a real consensus has been reached. I blieve that
our inability to fnd a way beyond this opposition constitutes a major
obstacle to our collective ability to create a frm of knowledge that is
adequate fr what I expect will be a quite transfrmed world in the
Opening lecture, Social Science Study-Day 1996, SIS\VO (Netherlands Universities Institute fr
Coordination of Research in Social Sciences), Amsterdam, April 11, 1996.
202
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY 203
coming century and millennium. I therefore propose to look at how this
long-standing debate has been conducted within our community, that
is, within the famework of that very recent construct "social science."
I intend to argue that the way the problem has been posed heretofre
has made it insoluble. I intend also to argue that we are today at a point
where we may be able to overcome the social constructions of the nine
teenth century in ways that will allow us to move frward constructively,
and collectively, on this question.
Let me start with determinism and fee will in theological discourse.
The concept that everything is determined seems to derive quite di
retly fom the concept of the omnipotence of God, central to all the
monothlistic religions at least. On the one hand, if there is an omnipo
tent God, then everything is determined by the wil of God, and to
suggest otherwise would seem to be blasphemous. On the other hand,
the churches of the world are in the business of regulating moral behav
ior. And determinism provides an easy excuse fr the sinner. Has God
indeed determined that we shall sin? And if so, should we try to counter
the will of God? This is a conundrum that has plagued theologians fom
the beginning. One way out is to argue that God has bestowed upon us
fee will, that is, the option to sin or not to sin. It is however too easy
a solution. Why would it have been necessary or desirable fr God to
have done this? It makes us seem like God's playthings. Furthermore,
it does not provide a logicaly tight argument. If God has given us fee
will, can we exercise it in unpredictable ways? If so, is God omnipotent?
And if not, can we relly be said to have fee wil?
Let me say once again how impressed I have aways been with the
astuteness of Calvin
'
S attempt to resolve this dilemma. The Calvinist
argument is very simple. Our destinies are indeed not predetermined,
not because God could not predetermine everything, but because if
humans assert that everything is predetermined, they are thereby lim
iting God's ability to determine. In efect, Calvin is saying, perhaps 7
cannot change our minds, but God can, or else God is not omnipo
tent. Still, as you well know, Calvinists were not persons to countenance
immoral behavior. How then could humans be induced to make the nec
essary effort to bhave according to the-norms that Calvinists believed
they ought to observe? Remember, Calvin was part of the Refrma
tion attempt to refute the doctrine of the Catholic Church that good
deeds are rewarded by God (a view that, by derivation, justifed the
sale of indulgences). To get out of the box, Calvinists resorted to the
204 SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY
concept of negative grace, which is in reality a familiar and very mod
ern device of science, the concept of disproof. While we could not
have freknowledge of who was saved, since that would limit God's
decisions, we could have freknowledge of who was not saved. It was
argued that God displays the prospect of damnation in the sinfl be
havior of humans, as sinfl behavior is defned by the Church. Those
who sin are surely not saved, because God would not permit the saved
so to act.
The Calvinist solution is so astute that it was subsequently adopted by
its successor expression, the revolutionary movements of the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries. The analogous argument went like this. We
cannot know fr sure who u advancing the revolution, but W can know
for sure who is not advancing it, those who act in ways that are sinfl,
that is, in ways that run counter to the decisions of the revolutionary
organization. Every member is a potential sinner, even u the militant
has behaved appropriately in the past. Members are thus continuously
subject to the judgment of the revolutionary authorities 3 to whether
or not they have gone against the will of God, that is, against the will
of the revolutionary organization.
Nor was it only the revolutionary organizations that adopted the
Calvinist solution. Essentially, modern science adopted it as well. We
can never know with certainty whether a scientist has reached truth, but
we can know when the scientist has sinned. It is when he has filed to
fllow the norms of appropriate scientifc methods, as defned by the
community of scientists, and therefore has ceased to be "rational," that
is, when the scientist has stooped to politics, or to journalism, or to
poety, or to other such nefarious activities.
The Calvinist solution is astute, but it has one enormous drawback.
It confers inordinate power on those humans -church authorities, rev
olutionary authorities, scientifc authorities -who are the interpreters
of whether or not other human actors are showing signs of negative
grace. And who will guard the guardians? Is there then a remedy to this
drawback? The consecrated remedy is to proclaim the virtue of human
feedom. That good Calvinist, John Milton, wrote a marvelous poem
extolling this remedy. It was called Paradise Lost. There are many read
ers who have said that, behind Milton's ostensible vindication of God,
his real hero was Lucifer, and that Lucifer
'
s rebellion represented hu
manity
'
s attempt to rise up against the constraint of the will of an
unseeable and unknowable God. But the remedy seems almost as bad
SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY 205
as the malady. Shall we praise Lucifer? Ater all, in whose interests does
he act?
I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
Consider the Enlightenment. What was the sermon? It seems to me
the essential message was anticlerical: humans were capable of rational
judgment and hence had the ability to arrive at both truth and goodness
directly, through their own best efrts. The Enlightenment represented
the definitive rejection of religious authorities as judges of either truth
or goodness. But who were substituted fr them? I suppose one has to
say the philosophers. Kant was anxious to take away fom the theo
logians the right to judge either truth or goodness. He fund it easy
enough to do this for truth, but more diffi cult to do fr goodness. Hav
ing decided that one cannot prove laws of morality as though they were
laws of physics, he might have conceded goodness to the theologians.
But no, he insisted that here too the philosophers could ofer the answer,
which for Kant was located in the concept of the categorical imperative.
However, in the process of secularizing knowledge, the philosophers
enshrined doubt, and this proved to be their own subsequent undo
ing. For along came the scientists to proclaim that the philosophers
were merely disguised theologians. The scientists began to challenge
the right of philosophers as well as of theologians to proclaim truth,
asserting very stridently that scientists were not philosophers. Is there
anything, the scientists asked, that legitimates the speculations, the rati
ocinations, of the philosophers, anything that allows us to say that they
are true? The scientists asserted that they, on the contrary, possessed a
frm basis for truth, that of empirical investigation leading to testable
and tested hypotheses, to those provisional universals called scientific
theorems. The scientists, however, unlike Kant, wiser or perhaps less
courageous than Kant, wanted nothing to do with moral laws. They laid
claim therefore to only one-half of the task the philosophers had in
herited from the theologians. Scientists would search ony fr truth. As
fr goodness, they suggested that it was uninteresting to search fr it,
asserting that goodness was incapable of being an object of knowledge
as science was defining knowledge.
The claims of the scientists that science represented the unique path
to locate truth gained wide cultural support, and they came to be the
preeminent constructors of knowledge in the course of the late eigh
teenth and early nineteenth centuries. However, at that very moment,
there was a small happening called the French Revolution, a happen
ing whose protagonists claimed they were acting in the frtherance of
goodness. Ever since, the French Revolution has served as the source of
a belief system at least as powerfl as that provided by the rise to cul
tural predominance of science. As a result, we have spent the last two
hundred years trying to reunite the search for truth and the search for
goodness. Social science, as it came to be established during the nine
teenth century, was precisely the heir to both searches, and in some ways
offered itself as the ground L which they could b reconciled. I must
however admit that social science has not been very successfl in its
quest since, rather than reunifying them, it has itself been torn apart by
the dissonance between the two searches.
The centrifugal pressure of the "two cultures" (as we now call them)
has been impressively strong. It has provided the central themes of the
rhetoric of public discourse about knowledge. It has determined the
structures of the universities in the course of their being rebuilt and
reinvigorated in the nineteenth century. Its continuing strength explains
the persistingly high degree of passion about the antinomies to which I
referred. It explains the fact that social science has never achieved true
autonomy as an arena of knowledge nor ever acquired the degree of
public esteem and public supprt to which it aspires and that it believes
it merits.
The gulf between the "two cultures" was the deliberate construc
tion of Newtonian-Cartesian science. Science was very sure of itself
in this struggle. This is well illustrated by two fmous declarations of
the Marquis de Laplace. One was his hon mot in replying to Napoleon's
query about the absence of God in hs physics -"Sire, I have not fund
any need fr that hypothesis."1 The other was his unyielding statement
about how much science could know:
The present state of the system of hature is evdently a resultant of what
it was in the preceding instant, and if we conceive of an Intelligence who,
fr a given moment, embraces all the relations of beings in the Universe,
It will be able to determine for any instant of the past or future their
respective positions, motions, and generaly their affections.2
Triumphant science was not prepared to admit any doubts or to share
the stage with anyone else.
Philosophy and, more generally, what came to be called in the nine
teenth century the humanities fell in public esteem and retreated to a
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCIETY 207
defensive stance. Unable to deny science's capacity to explain the phys
ical world, they abandoned that domain entirely. Instead, they insisted
that there existed another quite separate domain -the human, the spir
itual, the moral -that was as important as, if not more important than,
the domain of science. That is why, in English at least, they assumed
the label of the humanities. From this human domain they sought to ex
clude science, or at the very least relegate it to a very secondary role. As
long as the humanities engaged in metaphysics or literature, science was
quite willing to allow itself to be excluded, on the deprecatory grounds
that these were nonscientific matters. But when the subject matter was
the description and analysis of social reality, there was no accord, even a
tacit on, btween the two camps. Both culture laid claim to this arena.
A cadre of professional specialists on the study of social reality
emerged slowly and, be it said, unsurely. m many ways, the most inter
esting story is that of history. Of all the fields that we today call social
science, history has the longest lineage. It was a concept and a term long
befre the nineteenth century. But the basis of the modern discipline of
history was the historiographical revolution we associate with Leopold
von Ranke. And the modern version of history which Ranke and his
colleagues called Geschichte and not Hitoie, was extraordinarily scien
tistic in its fndamental premises. Its practitioners asserted that social
reality was knowable. They asserted that such knowledge could b ob
jective -that is, that there were correct and incorrect statements about
the past -and that historians were obliged to write history "as it really
happened," which is why they gave it the name of Geschichte. They as
serted that scholars must not intrude their biases into the analysis of the
data or its interpretation. Hence they asserted that scholars must ofer
evidence fr their statements, evidence based on empirical research, ev
idence subject to control and verification by the community of scholars.
Indeed, they even defned what kind of data would be acceptable ev
idence (primary documents in archives). In all these ways they sought
to circumscribe the practices of the "discipline" and eliminate fom his
tory anything that was "philosophical," that is, speculative, deductive,
mythical. I have called this attitude "history in search of science."3 But
historians proved in practice to be timid scientists. They wished to stick
extremely close to their data and to restrict causal statements to state
ments of immediate sequences -immediate particular sequences. They
balked at "generalizations," which is what they called either inductions
of patterns of behavior from specifc instances or assertions of causal
208 SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCIETY
sequences in which two variables were less immediately linked in time
and space. We may be generous and say they did this because they were
sensitive to the thin basis the collected empirical data in the nineteenth
century affrded them for sound inductions. In any case, they were
haunted by the fear that to generalize was to philosophize, that is, to
be antiscientifc. And so they came to idolize the particular, the idio
graphic, even the unique, and thereupon to shun, fr the most part,
the label of social science, despite the fc that they were "in search of
.
" science.
Other practitioners were more audacious. The emerging disciplines
of economics, sociology, and political science by and large wrapped
themselves in the mantle and the mantra of "social science," appropri
ating the methods and the honors of triumphant science (ofen be it
noted to the scorn and/or despair of the natural scientists). These so
cial science disciplines considered themselves nomothetic, in search of
universal laws, consciously modeling themselves on the good example
of physics (as nearly as they could). They had, of course, to admit that
the quality of their data and the plausibility/validity of their theorems
were far beneath the level achieved by their confreres m the physical
sciences, but they defi antly asserted optimism about fture progress in
their scientific capacities.
I should like to underline that this great Methodemtreit, as it was
called, between idiographic history and the nomothetic trio of "real"
social sciences was in many ways huff and puf, since both sides of this
disciplinary and methodological debate flly acknowledged the superi
ority of science over philosophy. Indeed, science might have won the
battle fr the soul of the social sciences hands down were the natu
ral scientists not rather snobbish in refsing to accept the importuning
social scientists into fll membership in the faternity.
History and the nomothetic trio remained up to 1945 very much so
cial sciences of the civilized world, by the civilized world and about
.
t
the civilized world. To deal with the colonized world of what were
called primitive peoples, a separate social science discipline was con
structed, anthropology, with its separate set of methods and traditions.
And the remaining half of the world, that of non-Western, so-called
high civilizations - that is, China, India, the Arabo-Islamic world,
among others -was lef to a special group of persons engaged in some
thing that was given the name of "Oriental studies," a discipline that
insisted on its humanistic character and refsed to be considered part
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A J UST SOCI ETY 209
ofthe socialsciences.!tisobvioustodaywhyacleavagebetween aso-
cialscienceofandfrthecivilizedworldandasecondsocialscienceof
andfor therestoftheworld seemed sonatural to nineteenth-century
Europeanscholars, andwhyit seems so absurd today. ! shall notdwell
on this issue.'! wish merelyto note thatbth the anthropologists and
the Orientalist scholars, byvirtue ofthe logic ofengaging in a social
science abutthe others/the nonmodernworld/thebarbarians,feltvery
much more comfortable on the idiographic sde ofthe Methodentreit,
since the unversalst implicatons of nomothetic socialscenceseemed
to leave noplaceforwhattheywantedto say.
ln the nineteenth century the idiographers and the nomothetists
were ingreat competition as to who could be more ob|ective n ther
work, which had a strange consequence fr the macro/micro distinc
tion. !f one looks at the earliest works and ma|or ngures in each of
these emergingdisciplines,onenoticesthattheywroteaboutverylarge
themes,suchas universalhistoryorstagesofcivilization.And thetitles
oftheirbooks tended tobeall-encompassing.This ntinverywellwith
the turn that modern thoughtwas taking in that centuq, the turn to
evolutionas theFndamentalmetaphor. Thesebookswerevery"macro"
in the sweep oftheir subject matter, and they described the evolution
ofmankind.Theywereseldommonographic.8utthismacroqualityof
theresearch did not seemtolastverylong.
!n the interests ofcreating corporate structures, the various social
scencedsciplnessoughttocontrolthetrainingand careerpatternsof
thosewhowouldenterthefraternity. Theyinsisted onbothoriginalty
andob|ectvity, andthis turned themagainst macroscholarship. Origi-
nalityrequiredthateachsuccessive scholarsaysomethingnew, andthe
easiestwayto dothatwas to divideupthesub|ectmatterinto sub|ects
ofeversmallerscope,ntermsoftime,ofspace,andofvarablesunder
consideration. The process ofsubdivision opened up endless possibili-
tiesofnotrepeatingtheworkofearlierscholars.Andbycircumscribing
thescope,the disciplinesbelievedtheyweremakingitmorepossiblefor
scholars to b careFlintheircollection and analysis ofdata.ltwas the
mentalityof the microscope, and itpushedscholars to usingever more
powerFl microscopes. !t 6tinwellwitha reductionisr ethos.
This microscopization ofsocialscience reinfrced thegulfbetween
idiographicandnomotheticsocialscience.Thetwocampswereequally
in search of ob|ectivity but pursued diametricly opposite paths to
achieving it, because they singled out opposite risks of sub|ectivity.
210 SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY
The idiographic camp had two principal fears. They sw the danger
of subj ectivity deriving on the one hand fom inadequate contextual
understanding and on the other hand fom the intrusion of self-interest.
Insofar as one was dependent upon primary documents, one was obliged
to read them correcty, and not anachronistically or fom the prism of
another culture. This required considerable knowledge of the context:
the empirical detail, the defnition of boundaries, the use of the lan
guage (even in many cases the handwriting), and the cultural allusions
in the documents. The scholars hence sought to be hermeneutic, that
is, to enter into the mentality of persons and groups who were remote
fom them, and to try to see the world as the persons under study saw
it. This required long immersion in the language and culture under ob
servation. For the historians, it seemed easiest therefore to study their
own nation/culture, in which they were already immersed. For the an
thropologists, who by defnition could not fllow this path, it required
so great an investment to know enough to study a particular group of
"others" that it seemed sensible to devote one's life work to the study
of one such people. And fr the Orientalist scholars, doing well their
philological exercises required a lifelong improvement of diffcult lin
guistic skills. There were thus, for each field, objective pressures that led
scholars to narrow the scope of their research and to attain a level of
specialization at which there were at most a few other persons in the
world who had a matching profle of skills.
The problem of noninvolvement was also a serious one for idio
graphic scholars. The historians solved it first of all by insisting that
history could not be written about the present and then by ending the
"past" at a point relatively distant fom the present. The argument was
that we are all inevitably committed politically in the present, but that
as we move backward in time we may feel less involved. This was re
infrced by the fact that historians made themselves dependent upon
archives, and the states that provided the materials fo the archives
were (and are) unwilling to make the documents available about current
happenings, fr obvious reasons. The Orientalist scholars ensured their
neutrality by avoiding real intercourse with the civilizations they stud
ied. Theirs being primarily a philological discipline, they were immersed
in reading texts, a task they could and largely did conduct in their study.
P for the anthropologists, the great fear of the discipline was that some
colleagues would "go native," and thereby be unable to continue to play
the role of the scientifc observer. The mm control employed was en-
SOCIAL SCIENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCIETY 21 1
suring that the anthropologist did not stay out in the "field" too long.
Pof these solutions emphasized remoteness as the mechanism of con
trolling bias. In turn validity was guaranteed by the interpretative skills
of careflly trained scholars.
The nomothetic trio of economics, political science, and sociology
turned these techniques on their head. They emphasized not remoteness
but closeness as the road to avoiding bias; but it was a very particu
lar kind of closeness. Objective data were defned as replicable data,
that is, precisely data that were not the result of an "interpretation."
The more quantitative the data, the easier it was to replicate them.
But data fom the past or fom remote parts of the world lacked the
infastructural basis for the necessary guarantees of quality, of "hard
ness."
Q
ite the opposite: the best data were the most recent, and
collected in the countries with the best infastructure fr the recording
of data. Older or remoter data were necessarily incomplete, approxi
mate, perhaps even mythical. They might b suffcient fr the purposes
of journalism or travel reports but not fr science. Furthermore, even
newly collected data rapidly became obsolete, since the passing of time
brought ever-increased quality of data collection, especially in terms
of the comparability of data collected in two or more sites. So the
nomothetic trio retreated into the present, even into the immediate and
instantaneous present.
Furthermore, insofar as one wanted to perfrm sophisticated oper
ations on quanttative data, it was optimal to reduce the number of
variables and to use indicators about which one could collect good data,
hard data. Thus, reliability pushed these social scientists into constantly
narrowing the time and space scope of the analyses and into testing only
carefully limited propositions. One might wonder then about the valid
ity of the results. But the epistemological premises solved this problem.
Insofar as one believed that there existed universal laws of human be
havior, the locus of the research became irrelevant. One chose sites of
data collection according to the quality of the data it was possible to
obtain, not because of their superior relevance.
I draw frnm this the conclusion that the great methodological debates
that illustrated the historical construction of the social sciences were
sham debates, which distracted us fom realizing the degree to which
the "divorce" between philosophy and science efectively eliminated the
search fr the good fom the realm of knowledge and circumscribed the
search fr truth into the frm of a microscopic positivism that took
on many guises. The early hopes of social scientists that they could
be modern philosopher-kings proved totally vain, and social scientists
settled into being the handmaidens of governmental refrmism. When
they did this openly, they called it applied social science. But for the
most part they did this abashedly, asserting that their role was merely
to do the research, and that it was up to others, the plitical persons, to
draw fom this research the conclusions that seemed to derive from this
research. In short, the neutrality of the scholar became the fig leaf of
their shame, in having eaten the apple of knowledge.
As long as the modern world seemed to be one long success story of
technological triumph, the necessary political base to maintain a cer
tain equilibrium in the system continued to exist. Amid the success, the
world of science was carried fom honor to honor within this system,
as though it were responsible fr the triumph. The social sciences were
swept along in the tide. No one was seriously questioning the fnda
mental premises of knowledge. The many maladies of the system -
fom racism to sexism to colonialism as expressions of the manifstly
growing polarization of the world, from fscist movements to socialist
gulags to liberal frmalisms as alternative modes of suppressing democ
ratization -were all defined as transitory problems because they were
all thought to be capable of being brought under control eventually, 3
so many turbulent deviations from the norm, in a world in which the
trajectory always returned to the curve of linear upward-moving equi
lbrium. The political persons on all sides promised that goodness was
coming at the end of the horizon, a prospect presumably guaranteed by
the continual progress in the search fr truth.
This was an illusion, the illusion bred by the separation and reifica
tion of the two cultures. Indeed the separation of the two cultures was
one of the main fctors pushing the trajectories far fom equilibrium.
Knowledge is in fct a singular enterprise, and there are no fndamen
tal contradictions between how we may pursue it in the natural and in
the human world, for they are both integral parts of a singular uni
verse. Nor is knowledge separate fom creativity or adventure or the
search fr the good society. To be sure, knowledge will always remain a
pursuit, never a pint of arrival. It is this very fact, however, that per
mits us to see that macro and micro, global and local, and abve all,
structure and agency are not unsurpassable antinomies but rather yin
and yang.
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCIETY 213
There have been two remarkable intellectual developments of the last
two decades that constitute an entirely new trend, signs that the world
may be now in the process of overcoming the two cultures. These trends
are only marginally the doing of social scientists, but they are wonder
fully encouraging about the fture of social science. I refer to what has
been called complexity studies in the natural sciences and what has been
called cultural studies in the humanities. I am not going to review the
now immense literature in each of these two felds. Rather I shall try to
situate each of these fields in terms of their epistemological implications
for knowledge and their implications for the social sciences.
Why are complexity studies given that name? It is because they re
ject one. of the most basic premises of the modern scientifc enterprise.
Newtonian science assumed that there were simple underlying frmulas
that explained everything. Einstein was unhappy that e=mi explained
only half the universe. He was searching fr the unifed field theory
that would in an equally simple equation explain everything. Complex
ity studies argue that all such frmulas can at best be partial, and at most
explain the past, never the fture. (We must of course be careful to dis
tinguish between the dubious belief that truth is simple and the sound
methodological injunction of Occam's razor, that we ought always to
try to eliminate logical curlicues fom our reasoning and include in our
equations only the terms necessary to stating them clearly. )
Why is truth complex? Because reality is complex. And reality is
complex fr one essential reason: the arrow of time. Everything affects
everything, and as time goes on, what is everything expands inexorably.
In a sense, nothing is eliminated, although much fdes or becomes
blurred. The universe proceeds -it has a lfe -in its orderly disorder
or its disorderly order. There are of course endless provisional orderly
patterns, self-established, holding things together, creating seeming co
herence. But none is prfect, because of course perfect order is death,
and in any case enduring order has never existed. Perfect order is what
we may mean by God, which is by defnition beyond the known uni
verse. So the atoms, the galaxies, and the biota pursue their paths, their
evolution if you will, until the internal contradictions of their structures
move them further and frther away HOm whatever temporary equi
libria they enjoy. These evolving structures repeatedly reach points at
which their equilibria cn no longer b restored, at points of bifrca
tion, and then new paths are fund, new orders established, but we can
never know in advance what these new orders will be.
21 4 SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A J UST SOCI ETY
The picture of the universe that derives fom this moel is an in
trinsically nondeterministic one, since the aleatory combinations are too
many, the number of small decisions too many, for us to predict where
the universe wil move. But it does not fllow that the universe can
therefore move in any direction whatsoever. It is the child of its own
past, which m created the parameters within which these new paths
are chosen. Statements about our present trajectories can of course be
made, and can be made carefully, that is, can be stated quantitatively.
But if we try to overdo the accuracy of the data, the mathematicians tell
us we get unstable results.5
If physical scientists and mathematicians are now telling us that truth
in their arena is complex, indeterminate, and dependent on an arrow of
time, what does that mean fr social scientists? For, it is clear that, of
all systems in the universe, human social systems are the most complex
structures that exist, the ones with the briefest stable equilibria, the ones
with the most outside variables to take into account, the ones that are
most difficult to study.
We can only do what the natural scientists can only do. We can search
for interpretative patterns, of two sorts. We can search for what might
be called frmal interpretative patterns, of the kind that state, fr ex
ample, that a human social systems are historical social systems, not
only in the sense that they fllow a historical trajectory, but in the sense
that they are born or emerge at certain times and places for specifc rea -
sons, operate according to specifc sets of rules for specifc reasons, and
come to a close or die or disintegrate at certain times and places because
they are unable any longer to handle their contradictions for specific
sets of reasons. Such frmal interpretative patterns are of course them
selves subject to a fnite relevance. One day, a given particular frmal
pattern may no longer operate, though for the moment this day may
seem remote.
We can also search, however, fr what might be called substantive in
terpretative patterns, such as the description of the rules of a particular
historical social system. For example, when I term the modern world
system a capitalist world-economy, I d laying claim to the existence
of a particular substantive pattern. It is of course a debatable one, and
it has been much debated. Furthermore, like a series of boxes within
boxes, there are substantive patterns within substantive patterns, such
that, even if we all agree that the world in which we lve is a capi
talist world-economy, we may nonetheless difer about whether it has
SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY 21 5
had discernible stages, or about whether unequal exchange has been its
norm, or about endless other aspects of its functioning.
What is crucial to note about complexity studies is that they have
in no sense rejected scientifc analysis, merely Newtonian determinism.
But in turning some premises on their head, and in particular by reject
ing the concept of reversibility in favor of the concept of the arrow of
time, the natural sciences are taking a giant's step in the direction of
the traditional terrain of social science, the explanation of reality as a
constructed reality.
bwe now turn to cultural studies, let start with the same question.
Why are they called cultural studies? For a group of scholars so taken
with lin
g
istic analysis, to my knowledge this question has never been
posed. The frst thing I note is that cultural studies are not really studies
of culture but studies of cultural products. This is the consequence of
their deep root in the humanities and explains in turn their deep attrac
tion to the humanities. For the humanities, in the division of the two
cultures, were attributed above athe domain of cultural products.
They were also attributed the domain of goodness, but they were
very reluctant to seize hold of it. It seemed so political, so uncultural,
so fleeting and unsolid, so lacking in eternal continuities. The personal
path of Wordsworth from poet of the French Revolution to poet of
poetry illustrates the repeated flight of the artists and the scholars of
cultural products to the surer ground of "art for art's sake," an aesthetic
turning inward. They comforted themselves with Keats's lines in "Ode
on a Grecian Urn": "Beauty is truth, truth beauty - that is a / Ye
know on earth, and all ye need to know."
To be sure, there were always those who asserted that cultural prod
ucts were a product of the culture and that this could be explained in
terms of the structures of the system. Indeed, cultural studies as we
know it today originated in England in the 1950s with persons who
were arguing this long-standing theme. They were, let us remember, in
search of a workers' culture. But then cultural studies took what has
been called a linguistic turn or a hermeneutic turn, but which I think of
as a 1968 turn. The revolutions of 1968 were against the liberal center
and put frward the argument not only that the Old Left was part of
this liberal center, but also that this libral center was as dangerous as (if
not more dangerous than) the true conservatives.
In terms of the study of cultural products, it meant that the enemy
became not merely those who would study cultural products according
to conservative, traditional aesthetic norms (the so-called canons), but
also those (the Old Left) who would analyze cultural products in terms
of their presumed explanations in the political economy. A explosion
fllowed, in which everything was deconstructed. But what is this ex
ercise? It seems to me the core of it is to assert the absence of absolute
aesthetics, to insist that we have to explain how particular cultural prod
ucts were produced when they were produced and why in that frm, and
then to proceed to ask how they were and are being received by others,
and for what reasons.
We are clearly involved here in a very complex activity, one in which
equilibria (canons) are at best transient and one in which there can be no
determinate fture, since the aleatory elements are too vast. In the pro
cess, the study of cultural products has moved away fom the traditional
terrain of the humanities and onto the terrain of the social sciences, the
explanation of reality as a constructed reality. This is of course one of
the reasons why so many social scientists have been receptive to it.
The move of natural scientists toward the social sciences (complexity
studies) and the move of scholars in the humanities toward the social
sciences (cultural studies) have not been without opposition within the
natural sciences and within the humanities. The opposition has in fct
been ferocious, but it seems to me that it has been largely a rearguard
operation. Nor have the proponents of complexity studies or the propo
nents of cultural studies defned themselve as moving into the camp of
the social sciences. Nor have all (or even most) social scientists analyzed
the situation in this way.
But it u time that we z call a spade a spade. We are m the process
of overcoming the two cultures via the social scientization of all knowl
edge, by the recognition that reality is a constructed reality and that the
purpose of scientifc/philosophical activity is to arrive at usable, plausi
ble interpretations of that reality, interpretations that wrinevitably be
transitory but nonetheless correct, or more correct, fr their time, than
alternative interpretations. But if reality is a constructed reality, the con
structors are the actors in the real world, and not the scholars. The role
of the scholars is not to construct reality but to figure out how it has
been constructed, and to test the multiple social constructions of reality
against each other. In a sense, this is a game of never-ending mirrors.
We seek to discover the reality on the basis of which we have con
structed reality. And when we fnd this, we seek to understand how this
underlying reality has in turn been socially constructed. In this naviga-
SOCIAL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A J UST SOCI ETY 217
tion amid the mirrors, there are however more correct and less correct
scholarly analyses. Those scholarly analyses that are more correct are
more socially usefl in that they aid the world to construct a substan
tively more rational reality. Hence the search fr truth and the search
for goodness are inextricably linked the one to the other. We are all
involved, and involved simultaneously, in both.
In his latest book, Ilya Prigogine says two things very simply. "The pos
sible is richer than the real. Nature presents us in efect with the image
of creation, of the unforeseeable, of novelty"; and, "Science is a dialogue
with nature. "6 I should like to take these two themes as the basis of my
concludifg remarks.
The possible is richer than the real. Who should know this better
than social scientists? Why are we so aaid of discussing the possi
ble, of analyzing the possible, of exploring the possible? We must move
not utopias, but utopistics, to the center of social science. Utopistics is
the analysis of possible utopias, their limitations, and the constraints on
achieving them. It is the analytic study of real historical alteratives in
the present. It is the reconciliation of the search fr truth and the search
for goodness.
Utopistics represents a continuing responsibility of social scientists.
But it represents a particularly urgent task when the range of choice is
greatest. When is this? Precisely when the historical social system of
which we are a part is frthest fom equilibrium, when the fuctuations
are greatest, when the bifrcations are nearest, when small input has
great output. This is the moment in which we are now living and shall
be living fr the next twenty-five to ffty years.7
If we are to be serious about utopistics, we must stop fghting about
nonissues, and fremost of these nonissues is determinism versus fee
will, or structure versus agency, or global versus local, or macro versus
micro. It seems to me that what we can now see clearly is that these
antinomies are not a matter of correctness, or even of preference, but
of timing and depth of perspective. For very long and very short time
spans, and fom very deep and very shallow perspectives, things seem to
be determined, but fr the vast intermediate zone things seem to be a
matter of free will. We can always shif our viewing angle to obtain the
evidence of determinism or fee will that we want.
But what does it mean to say that something is determined? In the
realm of theology, I can understand it. It means we believe that there
21 8 SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY
is an omnipotent God and that he has determined everything. Even
there, we get quickly into trouble, as I have suggested. But at least, as
Aristotle would have put it, we are dealing with an effcient cause. But
if I say that the possibility of reducing unemployment in Europe in the
next ten years is determined, who or what is doing this determining, and
how far back shall I trace it? Even if you were to convince me that this
had some analytical meaning (and that would be diffcult) , does it have
any practical relevance? But does it fllow then that it is merely a matter
of free will, and that, were Dutch or German or French politicians,
or entrepreneurs, or trade union leaders, or someone else to do specifc
things, then I could assure you that unemployment would in fc be
reduced? Even if they, or I, knew what these things were, or believed
we knew, what would motivate us to do them now when we did not do
them previously? And if there were an answer to this, does that mean
that our fee will is determined by something prior? And if so, what?
This is an endless, pointless, sequential chain. Starting with fee will,
we end up with determinism, and starting with determinism, we end up
with fee will.
Can we not approach this another way? Let us agree that we are
trying to make sense of the complexity, to "interpret" it usefuly and
plausibly. We could start with the simple task of locating seeming reg
ularities. We could also try provisionally to assess the relative strength
of various constraints on individual and collective action. This task we
might call locating structures of the logue dure. I call this a simple task,
but of course it is not at all an easy task. It is simple rather in the sense
that it explains little, and also in the sense that it is a prior task, prior,
that is, to other more complex tasks. If we don't have the structures
clearly in mind, we cannot go on to anayze anything more complex,
like for example so-called microhistories or texts or voting patterns.
Analyzing structures does not limit whatever agency exists. Indeed, it
is only when we have mastered the structures, yes have invented "master
narratives" that are plausible, relevant, and provisionally valid, that we
can begin to exercise the kind of judgment that is implied by the concept
of agency Otherwse, our so-called agency is blind, and if blind it is
manipulated, if not directly then indirectly. We are watching the fgures
in Plato's cave, and are thinking that we can affct them.
This brings me to Prigogine's second apothegm: "Science is a dia
logue with nature." A dialogue has two partners. Who are they in this
case? Is science a scientist or the community of scientists or some par-
SOCI AL SCI ENCE AND THE QUEST FOR A JUST SOCI ETY 21 9
ticularscientihcorganizations),orisiteverymaninsofarasheorsheis
athinkingbeing?!snaturealivingentity,some sortofpantheisticgod,
orOodomnipotent?!donotthinkweknowforsurewhoisengagedin
thisdialogue.Thesearchforthepartners inthedialogueispartofthe
dialogueitself.Vhatwemustholdconstantisthepossibilityofknow-
ingmoreandofdoingbetter.Thisremainsonlyapossibilitybutnotan
unattainableone.Andthebeginningofrealizingthatpossibilityisceas-
ingtodebatetheflseissuesofthepasterectedtodistractusuommore
f:uitful paths. Science is at its very earliest moments. knowledge
is socialknowledge. Andsocialsciencelays claim to being the locus of
self-reectionofknowledge,aclaimitmakesneitheragainstphilosophy
nor agains_t thenaturalsciences,but at onewiththem.
Muchas!thinkthatthenexttwenty-GvetoGftyyearswillbeterrible
ones interms ofhuman socialrelations-the periodofdisintegration
ofourexistinghistoricalsocial systemandoftransitiontowardanun-
certainaltenative-!alsothinkthatthenexttwenty-GvetoGftyyears
willb exceptionallyexcitingones intheworldofknowledge.The sys-
temiccrisiswillmrcesocialreection.!seethepossibilityofdeGnitively
endingthedivorcebetweenscienceandphilosophy,and,as!havesaid,!
see socialscienceastheinevitablegroundofareunitedworldofknowl-
edge. Ve cannot knowwhat thatwill produce. 8ut ! can onlythink,
as didVordsworthaboutthe!renchRevolutionin The Preludes: "8liss
wasitinthatdawntobealive./8uttobeyoungwasveryHeaven|"
Chuter I5
The Heritage of Sociology,
the Promise of Social Science
I wish here to discuss the subject of social knowledge and its heritage,
challenges, and perspectives. I shall argue that the heritage of sociology
is something I shall call "the culture of sociology," and I shall try to de
fine what I think this is. I shall frther argue that, for several decades
now, there have been significant challenges precisely to that culture.
These challenges essentially consist of calls to unthink the culture of
sociolog Given both the persistent reassertion of the culture of soci
ology and the strength of these challenges, I shall try fnally to argue
convincingly that the only perspective we have that is plausible and re
warding is to create a new open culture, this time not of sociology but
of social science, and (most importantly) one that is located within an
epistemologically reunifed world of knowledge.
We divide and bound knowledge in three different ways: intellectu
ally as disciplines; organizationally as corporate structures; and culturally
as communities of scholars sharing certain elementary premises. We
may think of a discipline as an intellectual construct, a sort of heuris
tic device. It is a mode of laying claim to a so-called feld of stud,
with its particular domain, its appropriate methods, and consequently
its boundaries. It is a discipline in the sense that it seeks to discipline
the intellect. A discipline defnes not only what to think about and how
to think about it, but also what is outside its purview. To say that a given
subject is a discipline is to say not only what it is but what it is not. To
assert therefre that sociology a discipline is, among other things, to
assert that it is not economics or history or anthropology. And sociology
is said not to be these other names because it is considered to have a
diferent feld of stud, a diferent set of methods, a different approach
to social knowledge.
Presidential address, Fourteenth World Congress of Sociology, Montreal, July 26, 1998.
220
THE HERITAGE OF SOCI OLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCI AL SCI ENCE 221
Sociology as a discipline was an invention of the late nineteenth cen
tury, alongside the other disciplines we place under the covering label of
the social sciences. Sociology as a discipline was elaborated more or less
during the period 1880 to 1945. The leading figures of the field in that
period all sought to write at least one book that purported to defne so
ciology as a discipline. Perhaps the last major work in this tradition was
that written in 1937 by Talcott Parsons, The Structure o Social Action,
a book of great importance in our heritage, and to whose role I shall
return. It is certainly true that, in the frst half of the twentieth cen
tury, the various divisions of the social sciences established themselves
and received recognition as disciplines. They each defined themselves
in ways th!t emphasized clearly how they were diffrent fom other
neighboring disciplines. As a result, few could doubt whether a given
book or article was written within the famework of one discipline or
another. It was a period in which the statement, "That is not sociol
ogy; it is economic history, or it is political science," was a meaningfl
statement.
I do not intend here to review the logic of the boundaries that were
established in this period. They refected three cleavages in objects of
study that seemed obvious to scholars at the time and were strongly
enunciated and defended as crucial. There was the cleavage past/present
that separated idiographic history fom the nomothetic trio of econom
ics, political science, and sociology. There was the cleavage civilized/
other or European/non-European that separated all fur of the previous
disciplines (which essentially studied the pan-European world) from an
throplogy and Oriental studies. And there was the cleavage -relevant
only, it was thought, to the modern civiized world -of market, state,
and civil society that constituted the domains respectively of economics,
political science, and sociology.2 The intellectual problem with these sets
of boundaries is that the changes in
the world-system after 1945 -the

rise of the United States to world hegemony, the political resurgence of
the non-Western world, and the expansion of the world-economy with
its correlative expansion of the world university system -all conspired
to undermine t.he logic of these three cleavages,3 such that by 1970 there
had begun to be in practice a serious bluning of the boundaries. The
blurring has become so extensive that, in the view of many persons, in
my view, it was no longer possible to defend these names, these sets of
boundaries, as intellectually decisive or even very useful. As a result, the
various disciplines of the social sciences have ceased to be disciplines,
222 THE HERITAGE OF SOCI OLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCI ENCE
because they no longer represent obviously diferent felds of study with
diferent methods and therefore with firm, distinctive boundaries.
The names have not for that, however, ceased to exist. Far from it!
For the various disciplines have long since been institutionalized as cor
porate organizations, in the frm of university departments, programs
of instruction, degrees, scholarly journals, national and international as
sociations, and even library classifcations. The institutionalization of
a discipline is a way of preserving and reproducing practice. It rep
resents the creation of an actual human network with boundaries, a
network that takes the frm of corporate structures that have entrance
requirements and codes providing fr recognized paths of upward ca
reer mobility. Scholarly organizations seek to discipline not the intellect
but the practice. They create boundaries that are far firmer than those
created by disciplines as intellectual constructs, and they can outlast
the theoretical justifcation for their corporate limits. Indeed, they have
already done so. The analysis of sociology 3 an organization in the
world of knowledge u profoundly diffrent from the analysis of soci
ology as an intellectual discipline. If Michel Foucault may be said to
have intended to analyze how academic disciplines are defned, created,
and redefned in The Archaeology o Knowledge, Pierre Bourdieu's Homo
Academicus is the analysis of how academic organizations are famed,
perpetuated, and refamed within the institutions of knowledge.4
I am not going to fllow either path at the moment. I do not be
lieve, as I have said, that sociology is any longer a discipline (but neither
are our fellow social sciences). I do believe they all remain very strong
organizationally. And I believe that it fllows that we all fnd ourselves
in a very anomalous situation, perpetuating in a sense a mythical past,
which is perhaps a dubious thing to do. However, I wish rather to turn
my attention to sociology as a culture, that is, as a community of schol
ars who share certain premises. For I
b
elieve that it is in the debates in
this domain that our fture is being constructed. I shall argue that the
culture of sociology is recent and vigorous, but also fagile, and that it
can continue to thrive only if it is transformed.
The Hertage
What can we mean by the culture of sociology? I shall start by ofer
ing two comments. First, what we normally mean by a "culture" is a set
of shared premises and practices, shared to be sure not by all members
of the community all of the time but by most members most of the
time; shared openly, but what is even more important shared subcon
sciously, such that the premises are seldom subject to discussion. Such
a set of premises must necessarily be quite simple, and even banal. To
the extent that the assertions are sophisticated, subtle, and learned, they
would b unlikely to be shared by too many, and therefre to be able to
create a worldwide community of scholars. I will suggest that there ex
ists precisely such a set of simple premises shared by most sociologists,
but not necessarily at all by persons who call themselves historians or
economists.
Second, _I think the shared premises are revealed -revealed, not de
fned -by who it is that we present 3 our frmative thinkers. The
standard list these days fr sociologists around the world is Durkheim,
Marx, and Weber. The frst thing to note about this list is that if one
posed the question of frmative thiners to historians, economists, an
thropologists, or geographers, one would surely come up with a different
list. Our list does not contain Jules Michelet or Edward Gibbon, Adam
Smith or John Maynard Keynes, John Stuart Mill or Machiavelli, Kant
or Hegel, Bronislaw Malinowski or Franz Boas.
So the question becomes, Where did our list come fom? After all,
if Durkheim did call himself a sociologist, Weber did so only in the
very last period of his life, and even then ambiguously,5 and Marx of
course never did so. Furhermore, although I have met sociologists who
call themselves Durkheimians, and others who call themselves Marxists,
and still others who call themselves Weberians, I have never yet met any
who said that they were Durkheimian-Marxist-Weberians. So in what
sense C these three b said to b funding figures of the field? Yet
book after book, and in particular textbook after textbook, sys so.6
It was not always thus. This grouping is in fact largely the doing of
Talcott Parsons and his frmative work of the culture of sociology, The
Structure o Social Action. Of course Parsons intended that we canonize
the trio of Durkheim, Weber, and Vilfedo Pareto. Somehow, he was
never able to persuade others of the importance of Pareto, who remains
largely ignored. And Marx was added to the list, despite Parsons's best
effrts to keep him of it. Nonetheless, I attribute the creation of the
list essentially to Parsons. And that of course make the list very recent.
It is basically a post-1945 creation.
In 1937, when Parsons wrote, Durkheim was less central to French
224 THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCIENCE
social science than he had been twenty years earlier and would be again
after 1945.7 And he was not a fgure of reference in other major national
sociological communities. It is interesting in this regard to look at the
introduction that George E. G. Catlin wrote to the frst English edition
of The Rules o Sociological Method In 1938, writing fr a U.S. audi
ence, Catlin pleaded for Durkheim
'
S importance by classifyng him in
the same league as Charles Booth, Flexner, and W. I. Thomas, and said
that, athough his ideas were anticipated by Wundt, Espinas, Tonnies,
and Simmel, he was nonetheless important.
8
This is not exactly the way
Durkheim would b presented today. b 1937, Weber was not taught in
German universities, and to be fir even in 1932 he was not the com
manding fgure he is today in German sociology. Nor had he yet been
translated into English or French. As fr Ma, he was scarcely ever
even mentioned in most respectable academic circles.
R. W. Connell has shown in a recent survey what I had long sus
pected, that the pre-1945 textbooks may have mentioned these three
authors, but only alongside a long list of others. Connell calls this
"an encyclopedic, rather than a canonical, view of the new science by
its practitioners."9 It is the canon that defnes the culture, and this
canon had its heyday between 1945 and 1970, a very special period
one dominated by U.S. sociological practitioners, one during which
structural-fnctionalism was by far the leading perspective within the
sociological community.
The canon must begin with Durkheim, the most self-consciously
"sociological" of the three, the funder of a journal called L'nnie So
colo gique, whose centenary we celebrate in 1998 as we celebrate the
fifieth anniversary of the International Sociological Association. Durk
heim responded to the frst and most obvious of questions abut which
any student of social reality doing empirical work must wonder. How
is it that individuals hold particular sets of values and not others? And
how is it that persons with "similar backgrounds" are more likely to hold
the same set of values than persons of dissimilar backgrounds? We know
the answer so well that it no longer seems to us a question.
Let us nonetheless review Durkheim's answer. He restates his basic
arguments very clearly in the preface to the second edition of The Rules
o Sociological Method written in 1901. It was meant as a reply to the
critics of the first edition, and in it he seeks to clarify what he is saying,
since he feels he had been misunderstood. He declares three proposi
tions. The frst is that "social facts must be treated as things," a statement
THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMISE OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 225
he insists i s "at the very base of our method." He asserts that he is not
thereby reducing social reality to some physical substratum but simply
claiming for the social world "a degree of reality at least equal to that
everyone accords" to the physical world. "The thing [he says] stands in
opposition to the idea, just as what is known fom the outside stands
in opposition to what is known fom the inside.'>10 The second propo
sition is that "social phenomena [are] external to individuals."11 And,
finally, Durkheim insists that social constraint is not the same as physi
cal constraint, because it is not inherent but imposed fom the outside.12
Durkeim frther takes note that, fr a social fact to exist, there must
be individual interactions that result in "beliefs and modes of behaviour
instituted by the collectivity; sociology can then be defined as the sci
ence of institutions, their genesis and their fnctioning."13 Thus we are
clearly talking of a social reality that is socially constructed, and it is this
socially constructed reality that sociologists are to study -the science
of institutions. Durkheim even anticipates our current concern with
agency, because it is just at this point that he adds a fotnote, arguing
the limits of "permitted variation."14

These three declarations taken together constitute the argument
fr Durkheim's "basic principle, that of the objective reality of social
facts. It is . . . upon this principle that in the end everything rests, and
everything comes back to it.''15
I do not propose here to discuss my own views on these frmulations
of Durkheim. I do wish to suggest that his effrt to carve out a domain
fr sociology, the domain of what he calls "social facts," a domain that
is distinctive fom the domains both of biology and of psycholoy, is
indeed a basic premise of the culture of sociology. If you then say to
me that there are persons among us who call themselves social psychol
ogists, or symbolic interactionists, or methodological individualists, or
phenomenologists, or indeed postmodernists, I say to you that these per
sons have nonetheless decided to pursue their scholarly endeavors under
the label of sociology and not of psychology or biology or philosophy.
There must have been some intellectual reason fr this. I suggest it is
their tacit acceptance of the Durkheimian principle of the reality of so
cial facts, however much they would lie to' operationalize this principle
in ways quite diferent fom those that Durkheim proposed.
In the preface to the frst edition, Durkheim discusses how he wishes
to be labeled. The correct way, he says, is not to call him either a "mate
rialist" or an "idealist" but a "rationalist."16 While that term in DD has
226 THE HERITAGE OF SOCI OLOGY, THE PROMlSE OF SOCI AL SCI ENCE
beenthesub|ectofmanycenturiesofphilosophicaldebateanddiscord,
it is certainlyalabelthatalmostaLsociologists from Ourkheim's time
toatleast1970 wouldhave embraced.''!wouldlikethereforetorestate
Ourkheim's argumentas ^xiomumber 1 ofthe cultureofsociology.
there exist social groups that have explicable, rational structures. Iormulated
in this simple way, ! believe thattherehave been few sociologistswho
did not presume its validity.
Theproblemwithwhat!amcalling^xiomumber 1 is not the ex-
istence ofthese groups,buttheirIackofinternaI unity. This iswhere
Marx comes in. He seeks toanswerthequestion,Howisitthat sociaI
groupsthatare supposedIyaunity(themeaningafteralIof"group") in
fcthave internaIstruggIes?VeaIIknowhis answer. ltisthesentence
thatopens thenrstsection ofthe Communist Manisto: "The history
of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles. "' Of
course, Marxwas not so naive as to assume thattheovertrhetoric of
conict,theexplanationsofthereasonsfortheconct,wasnecessarily
tob takenatfacevalueorwasinanysense correct, correctthatisom
the point ofviewofthe analyst. 'TherestofMarx's ouvreisconsti-
tutedbytheelaborationofthe historiographyoftheclass struggle,the
analysisofthe mechanisms ofFnctioningofthecapitalistsystem, and
thepoliticalconclusions one shoulddrawfromthisftameworkofanal-
ysis.AllthistogetherconstitutesMarxism, properlyspeaking,whichis
ofcourseadoctrineandananalyticviewpointthathavebeensub|ectto
greatcontroversywithinandoutsidethesociologicalcommunity.
!donotproposetodiscusseitherthemeritsofMarxismortheargu-
ments ofitsopponents.l mereIywant to askwhyitwas that Parsons's
attempt to excIude Marx om the picture fiIed so miserabIy, despite
theCoIdVaranddespiteindeedthepoIiticaIpreferencesofthema|or-
ityoftheworId's socioIogists.ltseemstomethatMarxwasdiscussing
somethingsoobviouslycentralto social5fethatitsimplycouldnotbe
ignored, namely, social conict.
Marxhad aparticularexplanationofsocial conict to be sure, one
that centered on the fct that people had dfferent relations to the
means ofproduction, some owning them and others not, some con-
trollingtheiruse andothersnot.!thasbeenveryfashionable mrsome
timeto arguethatMarxwaswrongaboutthis,thattheclassstruggleis
nottheonly, oreventheprimary, sourceofsocialconict.Therehave
beenvarioussubstitutesoered.status-groups,politicalafnnitygroups,
gender,race. Thelistgoes on. Onceagain,!shallnotimmediatelydis-
THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOY, THE PROMISE OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 227
cuss the validity of these alternatives to class, but confine myself to the
observation that every substitute for "class" presumes the centrality of
struggle and merely juggles the list of combatants. Is there anyone who
has refted Marx by saying, this is all nonsense, since there are no social
conficts?
Take so central an activity to the practice of sociologists as the opin
ion survey. What is it we do? We usually constitute what is called a
representative sample, and we pose to this sample a series of questions
about something. Normally, we presume that we will get a range of
answers to these questions, although we may not have a clear idea in
advance of what the range will turn out to be. If we thought every
one would
.
answer the questions identically, there would b litle point
in doing the survey. When we get the answers to these questions, what
is we do next? We correlate the answers with a set of basic variables,
such as socioeconomic status, occupation, sex, age, education, and so
on. Why do we do this? It is because we assume that often, even usually,
each variable contains a continuum of persons along a certain dimen
sion, and that the wageworkers and the businessmen, men and women,
the young and the old, and so on, wil tend to give difrent answers to
the questions. If we didn't presume social variation (and most fequently
the emphasis has in fact been on variation in socioeconomic status), we
wouldn't be engaged in this enterprise. The step fom variation to con
fict is not a long one, and generally speaking those people who try to
denythat variation leads to confict are suspected of seeking to disregard
an obvious reality fr purely ideological reasons.
So there we are. We are all Marxists, in the diluted frm of what
shall term Axiom Number 2of the culture of sociology: all social groups
contain subgroups that are rnked in a hierarchy and are in conict with each
other Is this a dilution of Marxism? Of course it is, indeed a serious
dilution. Is this however a premise of most sociologists? Of course it
is as well.
Can we stop here? No, we can't. Having decided that social groups
are real and that we can explain their moe of operation (Aiom Num
ber 1), and having decided that they harbor within them repeated
conficts (Axiom Number 2), we fce an obvious question: Why do not
all societies simply blow up or split apart or destroy themselves in some
other way? It seems clear that, although such explosions do indeed hap
pen from time to time, they do not seem to happen most of the time.
There does seem to be a semblance of "order" in social lif, despite
228 THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCI ENCE
Axiom Number 2. Here is where Weber comes in. For Weber has an
explanation fr the existence of order despite conflict.
We regularly identify Weber as the anti-Marx, one insisting on
cultural as opposed to economic explanations, insisting on bureaucra
tization rather than accumulation as the central driving frce of the
modern world. But the key concept of Weber that serves to limit the
impact of Marx, or at least to modify it seriously, is legitimacy. What
does Weber say about legitimacy? Weber is concerned with the basis
of authority. Why, he asks, do subjects obey those who give com
mands? There are various obvious reasons, such as custom and material
calculation of advantage. But Weber says they are not enough to ex
plain the commonness of obedience. He adds a third, crucial fctor,
the "belief in legitimacy."20 At this point, Weber delineates his three
pure types of authority or legitimate domination: legitimacy based on
rational grounds, legitimacy based on traditional grounds, and legiti
macy based on charismatic grounds. But since, fr Weber, traditional
authority is the structure of the past and not of modernity, and since
charisma, however important a role it plays in historical reality and in
Weberian analysis, is essentially a transitional phenomenon, always be
ing eventually "routinized," we are left with "rational-legal authority" as
the "specifically modern type of administration."21
The picture Weber ofers us is that authority is administered by a
staff, a bureaucracy, that is "disinterested," in the sense that it has no
par ti pris either vis-a-vis the subjects or vis-a-vis the state. The bureau
cracy is said to be "impartial," that is, making its decisions according
to the law, which is why this kind of authority is called rational-legal
by Weber. To be sure, Weber admits that, in practice, the situation is
a bit more complicated.22 Nonetheless, if we now simplify Weber, we
have a reasonable explanation fr the fact that states are usually orderly,
that is, that the authorities are usualy accepted and obeyed, more or
less, or to a certain extent. We shall cal this Axiom Number 3, which
can be stated as fllows: to the extent that groups/states contain their con
ficts, it is in lage part because lower-ranked subgroups accord legitimacy
to the authority structure of the group on the grounds that this permits the
group to survive, and the subgroups see long-term advantage in the group'
survival.
What I have been trying to argue is that the culture of sociology,
which W a share, but which was strongest m the period of 1945-
70, contains three simple propositions -the reality of social fcts, the
THE HERITAGE OF SOCI OLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCI ENCE 229
perennity of social confict, and the existence of mechanisms of legiti
mation to contain the confict -which add up to a coherent minimal
baseline for the study of social reality. I have tried to indicate the way
in which each of the three propositions was derived from one of the
three frmative thinkers (Durkeim, Marx, and Weber), and I claim
that is why we repeat the mantra that this trio represents "classical so
ciology. " Once again, I repeat, this set of axioms is not a sophisticated
and certainly not an adequate way of perceiving social reality. It is a
starting point, one that most of us have internalized and one that oper
ates largely at the level of unquestioned premises that may be assumed
rather than debated. This is what I am calling "the culture of sociology. "
This is, in y view, our essential heritage. But again I repeat, it is a
heritage of a construct that is recent, and if vigorous also fagile.
The Challenges
I shall now present six challenges that in my view raise very serious
questions about the set of axioms I am calling "the culture of sociology."
I shall present them in the order that they began to have an impact
on the world of sociology, and more generally on social science, which
was sometimes long after they were written. I wish to emphasize at the
outset that these are challenges, not truths. Challenges are serious if
they put frward credible demands on scholars to reexamine premises.
Once we accept that the challenges are serious, we maybe stimulated to
refrmulate the premises in ways that make them less vulnerable to the
challenges. Or we may fnd ourselves forced to abandon the premises, or
at the very least to revise them drastically. A challenge is thus part of a
process, the beginning and not the end of the process.
The frst challenge I shall present I associate with Sigmund Freud.
This may seem surprising. For one thing, Freud was essentially a
contemporary of Durkheim and Weber, not someone who came signifi
cantly later. For a second thing, Freud has in fct been well incorporated
into the culture
.
of sociology. Freud's topology of the psyche -the id,
ego, and superego -has long been something we use to provide the
intervening variables that explain how it is that Durkheim's social fcts
are internalized inside individual consciousnesses. We may not all use
Freud's exact language, but the basic idea is there. In a sense, Freud's
psychology is part of our collective assumptions.
I am not however interested now in Freud's psychology but in Freud's
sociology. Here, we tend primarily to discuss a few important works,
such as Civilization and Its Discontents, 23 and they are important to be
sure. But we tend to ignore the sociological implications of his modes of
diagnosis and therapy. I wish to discuss what I think is Freud's implicit
challenge to the very concept of rationality. Durkheim called himself a
rationalist. Weber made rational-legal legitimation the linchpin of his
analysis of authority. And Marx was devoted to pursuing what he called
scientific (that is, rational) socialism. Our frmative thinkers were all
children of the Enlightenment, even when, as in the case of Weber,
they raised gloomy questions abut where we were heading. (But the
First World War caused much gloom fr most of Europe's intellectuals. )
Freud was not at all a stranger to this tradition. Indeed, what was
he abut? He said to the world, and in particular to the medical world,
that behavior that seems to us strange and irrational is in fact quite ex
plicable, provided one understands that much of the individual's mind
operates at a level Freud called the unconscious. The unconscious, by
defnition, cannot be seen or heard, even by the individual himself, but,
said Freud, there are indirect ways of knowing what is going on in the
unconscious. His first major work, The Interpretation o Dreams,24 was
precisely on this topic. Dreams reveal, said Freud, what the ego is re
pressing into the unconscious.25 Nor are dreams the only analytic tool
we have at our disposition. The whole of psychoanalytic therapy, the
so-called talking cure, was developed as a series of practices that could
help both the analyst and the analysand become aware of what was go
ing on in the unconscious.26 The method is quintessentially one derived
fom Enlightenment beliefs. It refects the view that increased awareness
may lead to improved decision making, that is, more rational behavior.
But the road to this more rational behavior involves recognizing that so
called neurotic behavior is in fct "rational," once one understands what
the individual intends by this behavior and therefore why it is occurring.
The behavior may be in the opinion of the analyst suboptimal, but it is
not thereby irrational.
In the history of psychoanalytic practice, Freud and the early ana
lysts treated only, or at least primarily, adult neurotics. But fllowing
the logic of organizational expansion, later analysts were ready to an
alyze children and even to treat infants who had not reached the age
of talking. And still others bgan to fnd ways of dealing with psy
chotics, that is, with persons presumably beyond the capacity to enter
into straightforwardly rational discussion. Freud himself has some inter
esting things to say about acute neurotics and psychotics. In discussing
what Freud calls the "metapsychology of repression," he indicates the
multiple frms that repression can take, the various transference neu
roses. For example, in anxiety hysteria, there might be first a drawing
back fom the impulse and then a flight to a substitutive idea, a dis
placement. But then the person might feel the need to "inhibit . . . the
development of the anxiety which arises fom the substitute." Freud
then notes that "with ech increase of instinctual excitation the protect
ing rampart round the substitutive idea must be shifted a little frther
outwards."27 At this point, the phobia becomes still more complicated,
leading to ever frther attempts at fight. 2
8
What is being described here is an interesting social process. Some
thing has caused anxiety. The individual seeks to avoid the negative
felings and consequences by means of a repressive device. This does
relieve the anxiety, but at a price. Freud suggests that the price is too
heavy (or is it that it may be too heavy?) . What the psychoanalyst is
presumably trying to do is to help the individual confront what is caus
ing the anxiety, and thereupon to be able to relieve the pain at a lower
price. So the individual is tryi
_
ng rationally to reduce pain. And the psy
choanalyst is trying rationally to lead the patient to perceive that there
may be a better way (a more rational way?) to reduce pain.
Is the analyst right? Is this new way a more rational way to reduce
pain? Freud ends this discussion of the unconscious by turning to still
more difficult situations. Freud exhorts us to see "how much more rad
ically and profoundly this attempt at flight, this flight of the ego, is put
in operation in the narcissistic neuroses."29 But even here, in what Freud
regards as an acute pathology, he still perceives it as the same quest, the
same rational quest fr the reduction of pain.
Freud is very conscious of the limits of the role of the analyst. In
The Ego and the Id he warns quite clearly against the temptation to
play "prophet, saviour and redeemer."3 Freud manifsts a similar sense
of restraint in Civilization and Its Discontents. He is discussing the im
possibility of flfilling our necessary task of trying to be happy. He says:
"There is no golden rule which applies to ev
ryone: every man must find

out fr himself in what particular fshion he can be saved." He adds that
choices pushed to an extreme lead to dangers and fights into neurosis,
concluding that "the man who sees his pursuit of happiness come to
nothing in later years can still fnd consolation in the yield of pleasure
of chronic intoxication; or he can embark on the desperate attempt at
rebellion seen in a psychosis. "31
I am struck by several things in these passages of Freud. The patholo
gies he observes in the patient are described as flights fom danger. I
underline once again how rational it is to flee from danger. Indeed, even
the most seemingly irrational flight of all, that into psychosis, is de
scribed as "a desperate attempt at rebellion," as though the person had
little alternative. In desperation, he tried psychosis. And fnaly, there is
only so much the analyst can do, not only because he is not, may not
be, a prophet, but because "every man must find out fr himself in what
particular fshion he can be saved."
We are not in a congress of psychoanalysts. I have not raised these
issues to discuss either the fnctioning of the psyche or the modali
ties of psychiatric treatment. I have intruded these passages fom Freud
because of the light they throw on our underlying presupposition of
rationality. Something may b described as rational only if there are
other things that may b described as irrational. Freud wandered into
the arena of what was socially accepted as irrational, neurotic behavior.
His approach was to uncover the underlying rationality of this seem
ingly irrational behavior. He continued into the even more irrational,
the psychotic, and fund there too an explanation we might call rational,
once again the flight from danger. Of course, psychoanalysis is based on
the assumption that there are better and less good modes of dealing with
danger. The diferent responses of the individual exact different prices,
to use Freud's economic metaphor.
Pushing, however, the logic of the search for the rational explanation
of the seemingly irrational, Freud led us down a path whose logical con
clusion is that nothing is irrational fom the point of view of the actor.
And who is any outsider to say that he or she is right and the patient
is wrong? Freud is wary about how t analysts should go in imposing
their priorities on a patient. "Every man must find out for himself in
what particular fshion he can be saved." But if nothing is irrational, as
seen from someone's point of view, whence the hosannas fr modernity,
fr civilization, fr rationality? This is such a profound challenge that
I would argue we have not even begun to confront it. The only con
sistent conclusion we can draw is that there is no such thing as frmal
rationality, or rather that, in order to decide what is formally rational,
one must necessarily spell out in the ultimate detail of complexity and
specifcity the end that is intended, in which case, everything depends
THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCIENCE 233
on the point of view and the balance of concerns of the actor. In this
sense, postmodernism in its most radical solipsistic versions takes this
Freudian premise to its fnal destination, and without giving Freud the
least bit of credit for this in the process, be it noted, probably because
the postmodernists are unaware of the cultural origin of their assertions.
But, of course, such postmodernists are not taking the Freudian chal
lenge as a challenge, but as an eternal universal truth, the grandest of
grand narratives, and with this kind of self-contradiction this extreme
position self-destructs.
In the face of Freud's challenge, some have thrown up their hands
with glee and have become solipsistic, and others have falen back on
repeating.the mantra of rationaty. We can affrd to do neither. Freud's
challenge to the very operationality of the concept of frmal ratio
nality frces us to take more seriously the Weberian pendant concept
of substantive rationaity, and to anayze it in greater depth than We
ber was ready to do himself. What Freud has challenged, what in fct
he has perhaps demolished, is the useflness of the concept of frmal
rationality. Can there be such a thing as abstract frmal rationality?
Formal rationality is always someone's frmal rationaity. How then
can there be a universal frmal rationality? Formal rationality is usu
aly presented as the utilization of the most efective means to an end.
But ends are not so easy to defne. They invite a Geertzian "thick de
scription." And once given that, Freud is hinting, everyone is frmally
rational. Substantive rationality is precisely the attempt to come to terms
with this irreducible subjetivity and to suggest that nonetheless we can
make intelligent, meaningful choices, social choices. I shal return to
this theme.
The second challenge with which I wish to deal is the challenge
to Eurocentrism. This is very widespread today. It was seldom men
tioned thirty years ago. One of the frst persons to raise this issue
publicly and among us was Anouar Abdel-Malek, whose denunciation
of "Orientalism" ( 1963) predates that of Edward Said by more than
a decade, and who has devoted his life work to suggesting what he
has called an "alternative civilizatonal project."32 I would like to dis
cuss what he has argued, particularly in Social Dialectics (1981). I choose
to discuss his work because Abdel-Malek goes beyond a mere denun
ciation of the misdeeds of the West to an exploration of alternatives.
Abdel-Malek starts with the assumption that in the transformed geo
political reality, "[p]repostufated universalism, as a recipe, simply would
not do."33 In order to arrive at what Abdel-Malek perceives of as "mean
ingfl social theory" (43), he suggests we employ a nonreductionist
comparativism, comparing what he sees 3 a world consisting of three
interwoven circles - civilizations, cultural areas, and nations (or "na
tional frmations"). For him, there are only two "civilizations," the
lndo-Aryan and the Chinese. Each contains multiple cultural areas.
The lndo-Aryan contains Egyptian antiquity, Greco-Roman antiquity,
Europe, North America, sub-Saharan Africa, the Arab-Islamic and
Perso-Islamic zones, and major parts of Latin America. The Chinese
includes China proper, Japan, Central Asia, Southeast Asia, the Indian
subcontinent, Oceania, and the Asian-Islamic zone.
If the key fctor fr Abdel-Malek is "civilization," the key concept
is "specificity," and this requires, in his words, adding a "geographical
thread" to the historical (97). But having said that, he then adds that
the central problem in general theory and epistemology is "to deepen
and defne the relations between the concept of time and the constel
lation of notions concerned particularly with the density of time in the
domain of human societies" ( 156). Although one can compare civiliza
tions in terms of production, reproduction, and social pwer, the crucial
difference is relations with the time-dimension, wherein we fnd the
greatest "density of manifest, explicit specifcity. For here we are at the
very heart of culture and thought." He speaks of "the all-pervading
central constitutive influence of the time-dimension, the depth of the
historical field" (171-72).
The geographical challenge thus turns out to be an alterative con
cept of time. Remember that, for Abdel-Malek, there are only two
"civilizations" in the sense he is using it, and therefore only two relations
to the time-dimension. On the one side is the Western vision of time,
an "operational view," which he traces to Aristotle, "the rise of frmal
logic, the hegemony of analytical thi
'
king," time as "a tool fr action,
not as a conception of man's place in historical duration" (179). And "on
the other side of the river," we fnd a nonanalytic concept, where "time
is master" and therefore cannot be "apprehended 3 commodity."34 He
concludes with a call fr a "non-antagonistic yet contradictory dialec
tical interaction between the two banks of our common river" ( 185).35
Where does this leave us? It leaves us with two banks of a common
river -not at all the vision of Durkheim, Marx, and Weber. It leaves us
with irreducible specifcities about which we can nonetheless theorize.
It leaves us with a civilizational challenge about the nature of time, an
THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCI ENCE 235
issue that was not even an issue fr the classical culture of sociology.
And this brings us directly R the third challenge.
The third challenge is also abut time, not about two visions of time,
but about multiple realities of time, about the social constuction of
time. Time may be the master, but if so, fr Fernand Braudel, it is both
a master we have constructed ourselves and yet one that it is diffcult to
resist. Braudel argues there are in fct fur kinds of social time, but that,
in the nineteenth century and most of the twentieth, the overwhelming
majority of social scientists perceived only two of them. On the one
hand, there were those who considered that time was essentially com
posed of a sequence of events, what Paul Lacombe had called histoire
ivinementelle, a term best translated into English as "episodic history."
In this view, time was the equivalent of a Euclidean line, which had
an infnite number of points on it. These points were the "events," and
they were located in a diachronic sequence. This is of course consonant
with the ancient view that all is constantly changing at every moment,
that explanation is sequential, and that experience is unrepeatable. It is
at the basis of what we call idiographic historiography, but it is also the
basis of atheoretical empiricism, bth of which have been widespread
in modern social science.
The alternative widespread view of time is that social processes are
timeless, in the sense that what explains events are rules or theorems
that apply across all of time and space, even if at the present moment
we cannot explicate all these rules. In the nineteenth century, this view
was sometimes referred to as "social physics," in an allusion to New
tonian mechanics, which provided the model of this kind of analysis.
Braudel referred to this concept of time as la tres longue duie (not to be
confsed with la longue durie). We might call this eternal time. Braudel
discussed Claude Levi-Strauss as his prime example of this approach,
but of course the concept has been widely used by others. Indeed, one
might say that it constitutes the prevalent usage within the culture of
sociology and is what we usually mean when we speak of "positivism."
Braudel himself sys of this variety of social time: "if it exists, [it] can
only be the time period of the sages."36
Braudel's basic objection to these two cpncepts of time is that neither
of them takes time seriously. Braudel thinks that eternal time is a myth
and that episodic time, the time of the event, is, in his fmous phrase,
"dust." He suggests that social reality in fact occurs primarily in two
other kinds of time that have been largely ignored by both idiographic
historians and nomothetic social scientists. He calls these times that of
the longue duree, or structural time, long but not eternal, and that of
the conjoncture, or cyclical, middle-range time, the time of cycles within
structures. Both these times are constructs of the analyst, but they are
also simultaneously social realities that constrain the actors. Perhaps you
feel that Durkheim, Marx, and Weber were not entirely resistant to such
Braudelian constructs. And to some extent, that is true. They were all
three sophisticated and subtle thinkers and said much that we ignore
today at our peril. But as the three were incorporated into what I am
calling the culture of sociology, there was no room fr socially con
structed time, and hence Braudel represents a fndamental challenge
to that culture. As the challenge to Eurocentrism frces us into a more
complex geography, so the protest against ignoring social time frces
us into a far longer time-perspective than we have been accustomed to
use -but always one, I remind you, that is far less than infinite. No
doubt the emergence in the 1970s of what we now call historical soci
ology was a response, at least in part, to the Braudelian challenge, but
it has been absorbed as a specialty within sociology, and the implicit
Braudelian demand for greater epistemological reconfiguration has been
resisted.
The furth challenge has come fom outside social science. It has
come fom the emergence of a knowledge movement in the natural sci
ences and mathematics that today is known as complexity studies. There
are a number of important figures in this movement. I shall concentrate
on the one who has in my view stated the challenge mot radicaly,
Ilya Prigogine. Sir John Maddox, the frmer editor of Nature, took
note of Prigogine's singular importance and asserted that the research
community owes him a great debt "fr his almost single-minded per
sistence over fur decades with the problems of non-equilibrium and
complexity. "37 Prigogine is of course a Nobel Prize laureate in chem
isty, awarded fr his work on so-called dissipative structures. But the
two key concepts that resume his perspective are "the arrow of time"
and "the end of certainties."3
8
Both concepts seek to refute the most fundamental assumptions of
Newtonian mechanics, assumptions that Prigogine thinks survived even
the revisions required by quantum mechanics and relativity.39 The non
Newtonian concepts of entropy and probabilities are to be sure not
recent ones. They were at the basis of chemistry, as it developed in
the nineteenth century, and indeed in a sense justifed the distinction
between physics and chemistry. But, fom the point of view of the
physicists, the resort to such concepts indicated the intellectual inf e
riority of chemistry. Chemistry was incomplete, precisely because it was
insufficiently deterministic. Not only does Prigogine refuse to accept the
lesser merit of such concepts, but he goes much frther. He wishes to
argue that physics itself must b based on them. He is intent on spearing
the dragon in its inner rampart, asserting that irreversibility, far fom be
ing noxious, is a "source of order" and "plays a fundamental constructive
role in nature" (2627).'Prigogine make it quite cler that he does not
wish to deny the validity of Newtonian physics. It deals with integrable
systems and holds within its "domain of validity" (29). However, this
domain is limited, since " [i]ntegrable systems are the exception" (108). ''
Most systems "involve both deterministic processes (between bifrca
tions) and probabilistic processes (in the choice of the branches)" (69),
and the two processes together create a historical dimension recording
the successive choices.
Just as we are not in a congress of psychoanalysts, so we are not in
a congress of physicists. If I raise this challenge here among us, it is
.
largely because we have been so accustomed to assuming that Newto
nian mechanics represented an epistemological model that we ought to
emulate that it is important to recognize that this epistemological model
is under severe challenge within the very culture in which it originated.
But, even more important, it is because this reformulation of dynamics
inverts completely the relation of social science to natural science. Pri
gogine reminds us of Freud's assertion that humanity has known three
successive hurts to its pride: when Copernicus showed that the earth
was not the center of the planetary system; when Darwin showed that
humans were a species of animal; and when he, Freud, showed that our
conscious activity is controlled by our unconscious. To this Prigogine
adds: "We can now invert this perspective: We see that human creativ
ity and innovation can be understood as the amplification of laws of
nature already present in physic ad chemistry" 7I). Notice what he
has done here. Prigogine has reunited social science and natural science,
not on the nineteenth-century assumption that human activity can be
seen as simply a variant of other physic.activity, but on the inverted
basis that physical activity can be seen as a process of creativity and
innovation. This is surely a challenge to our culture, as it has been prac
ticed. Furthermore, Prigogine also speaks to the issue of rationality that
we have raised. He calls for a "return to realism" that is not a "return
238 THE HERITAGE OF SOCIOLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCIAL SCI ENCE
to determinism" ( 131).42 The rationality that is realistic is precisely the
rationality that Weber was clling "substantive," that is, the rationality
that is the result of realistic choice. 43
The ffth challenge that I wish to discuss is that of feminism. Fem
inists say to the world of knowledge that it has been biased in multiple
ways. It has ignored women as subjects of human destiny. It has ex
cluded women as students of social realities. It has utilized a priori
assumptions about gender differences that are not based on realistic re
search. It has ignored the standpoint of women.44 P of these charges
seem to me to be just in terms of the historical record. And the feminist
movement, within sociology and within the larger domain of the world
of social knowledge, has had some impact in recent decades in rectify
ing these biases, although of course there is still a long way to go bfore
these issues become nonissues.45 However, in all this aspect of the work
of feminists, they have not been challenging the culture of sociology.
Rather they have been utilizing it and simply saying that most sociolo
gists (and more broadly, social scientists) have not been respecting the
very rules they established fr the practice of social science.
This is no doubt a very important thing to have done. Yet I think
there is something even more important, wherein feminists have very
definitely been challenging the culture of sociology. This has been the
assertion that there been a masculinist bias not only in the domain of
social knowledge (where, so to speak, it might have been theoretically
exectable), but also in the domain of knowledge of the natural world
(where in theory it should not have existed). In this assertion, they have
attacked the legitimacy of the claim to objectivity in its sanctum sanc
torum, a claim that is central to the classical culture of sociology. Just
as Prigogine was not satisfed to be permitted to have chemistry as an
exception to the determinism of physics, but has insisted that physics
itself is not and cannot be deterministic, so feminists are not satisfed
with having social knowledge defned as a domain in which social biases
are expectable (if undesirable); they are insisting that this applies equally
to the knowledge of natural phenomena. I shall deal with this issue by
discussing a few feminist scholars whose background (that is, whose ini
tial training) was in the natural sciences and who therefore lay claim to
b able to speak to this issue with the necessary technical knowledge of,
training in, and sympathy fr natural science.
The three I have chosen are Evelyn Fox Keller, trained as a mathe
matical biophysicist; Donna ]. Haraway, trained as a hominid biologist;
and Vandana Shiva, trained as a theoretical physicist. Keller relates her
realization in the mid-1970s that what had previously seemed to her a
patently absurd question suddenly took precedence in her intellectual hi
erarchy: "How much of the nature of science is bound up with the idea
of masculinity, and what would it mean for science if it were otherwise?"
She then indicates how she will answer this query: "My subj ect . . . [is]
how the making of men and women has affected the making of sci
ence." Thus fa, we are no frther than the sociology of knowledge or
the sociology of science. And Keller says quite correctly that posing the
question merely in this way will result in a "marginal" impact at most on
the culture of natural science. What needs to be shown is that gender
afcts the "production of scientific theory."46
Can this b done? Keller looks to the intervening variable of the
psyches of the scientists. She speaks of "the intrapersonal dynamics of
'theory choice.' "47 Keller has no diffculty showing how the funders of
Baconian science sufused their work with masculinist metaphors, in
volving a virile mastery and domination of nature, and that the claim
of scientists to be dfferent from natural philosophers on the basis that
only scientists eschewed the projection of subjectivity simply does not
stand the test of analysis.4 Keller thus observes "androcentrism" in sci
ence but refses to draw the conclusion either of rejecting science per
se or of calling for the creation of a so-called radically diferent science.
Rather, she says:
My view of science -and the possibilities of at least a partial sorting
of cognitive from ideological-is more optimistic. And, accordingly, the
aim of thes essays is more exacting: it is the reclamation, fom within
science, of science as a human instead of a masculinist project, and the
renunciation of the division between emotional and intellectual labor that
maintains science as a male preserve.49
Donna Haraway starts fom her concerns as a hominid biologist and
attacks the two somewhat different attempts of R. M. Yerkes and E. L.
Wilson to transfrm biology "fom a science of sexual organisms to one
of reproducing genetic assemblages.''50 The object of both theories, she
argues, is human engineering, in two successively diferent frms, the
diferences merely reflecting changes in the larger social world. She asks
about both theories: Human engineering in the interests of whom? She
calls her work one "about the invention and reinvention of nature -
perhaps the most central arena of hope, oppression, and contestation
for inhabitants of the planet earth in our times" (1). She insists she is
speaking not about nature as it is, but about the stories we are told about
nature and experience, in whose telling biologists play a key role.
I will not try to reproduce her arguments here, but simply draw at
tention to the conclusions she wishes to draw fom this critique. Like
Keller, she refses to draw fom her critique of "biological determinism"
an exclusively "social constructionist" view (see 134-35). Rather she sees
the social development of the twentieth century as one in which we have
all become "chimeras, theorized and fabricated hybrids of machine and
organism," to which she gives the name of cyborgs. She says that hers is
"an argument fr pleasure in the confsion of boundaries and for reson
sibility in their construction" ( 150). The boundary breakdowns she sees
are those of human and animal, or human plus animal (or organism)
and machine; of the physical and nonphysical.
She warns against "universal, totalizing theory," which she calls "a
major mistake that misses most of reality," but she also claims that
"taking responsibility fr the social relations of science and technology
means refsing an anti-science metaphysics, a demonology of technol
ogy" (181).51 The theme of responsibility is central to this challenge.
She rejects relativism not in the name of "totalizing visions" but in
the name of "partial, locatable, critical knowledges sustaining the pos
sibility of webs of connections called solidarity in politics and shared
conversations in epistemology" (191).52
Vandana Shiva's critique is fcused less on scientifc methods proper
than on the political implications that are drawn fom science's position
in the cultural hierarchy. She speaks as a woman of the South, and thus
her critique rejoins that of Abdel-Malek.53
She opposes to the idea of "man's empire over nature" the concept
of the "democracy of all life," which she says is the basis of "most
non-Western cultures."54 Shiva sees the preservation of biodiversity
and the preservation of human cultural diversity as intimately linked
and is therefore particularly concerned about the consequences of the
contemporary biotechnological revolution. 55
I am struck by two constants in the challenge as frmulated by Keller,
Haraway, and Shiva One u that the critique of natural science as it has
been practiced is never translated into a rejection of science as a knowl
edge activity, but rather into a scientifc analysis of scientifc knowledge
and practice. And second, that the critique of natural science as it has
been practiced leads to a call for responsible social judgment. Perhaps
you feel that the case for gender bias in natural science is not proven.
Here, I think Sandra Harding makes the appropriate response: "Im
probable as [attempts to show how Newton's and Einstein's laws of
nature might participate in gender symbolization] may sound, there
is no reason to think them in principle incapable of success."56 The
key phrase is "in principle. " It is on this note of appeal to the most
basic practice of science, submitting all claims to empirical verification,
that the challenge of feminism to science stands. By its doubts about
any a priori assumption that gender is irrelevant to scientific practice,
feminism poses a fndamental challenge to the culture of sociology.
Whether it poses an equal challenge to the culture of natural science,
one it will take into account, remains to be seen. 57
The sith and last challenge with which I shall deal is perhaps the
most surprising of all, and the one least discussed. It is that modernity,
the centerpiece of al our work, has never really existed. This thesis has
been put frth with most clarity by Bruno Latour, the title of whose
book is the message: "We have never been modern." Latour starts his
book with the same argument as that of Haraway, that impure mxtures
are constitutive of reality. He speaks of the proliferation of "hybrids,"
what she calls "cyborgs. " For both, hybrids are a central phenomenon,
increasing over time, underanayzed, and not at all terrifying. What is
crucial fr Latour is overcoming the scholarly and social segmentation
of reality into the three categories of nature, politics, and discourse.
For him the networks of reality are "simultaneously real, like nature,
narrated, like discourse, and collective, like society."5
8
Latour is often misread as a variety of postmodernist. It is hard to see
how an attentive reader could in fact make this error. For he attacks with
equal vigor those he clls antimodern, those he cals modern, and those
he calls postmodern. For him, all three groups assume that the world in
which we have been living for the last several centuries and in which we
are still living ha been "modern" in the definition that al three groups
in common give to modernity: "an acceleration, a rupture, a revolution
in time [in contrast to] an archaic and stable past" ( 10).
Latour argues that the word "modem" hides two sets of quite differ
ent practices: on the one hand, the constnt creation by "translation" of
new hybrids of nature and culture; and, on the other, a process of "pu
rifcation," separating two ontological zones, humans and nonhumans.
The two processes, he argues, are not separate and cannot be analyed
separately, because paradoxicaly it is precisely by forbidding hybrids
242 THE HERITAGE OF SOCI OLOGY, THE PROMI SE OF SOCI AL SCI ENCE
(purification) that it becomes possible to create hybrids, and conversely
it is by conceiving of hybrids that we limit their proliferation.59 To sort
out the so-called modern world, Latour recommends an "anthropology,"
by which he means "tackling everything at once."60
Latour conceives of the world in which we live as based on what
he call a Constitution, which renders the moderns "invncible" by pro
claiming that nature is transcendent and beyond human construction,
but that society is not transcendent and therefore humans are totally
fee.61 Latour believes that, if anything, the opposite is true. 62 The
whole concept of modernity is a mistake:
No one has ever been modern. Modernity has never begun. There has
never been a modern world. The use of the present prfect tense63 is
important here, for it is a matter of a retrospective sentiment, of a reread
ing of our histor. I am not saying we are entering a new era; on the
contrary we no longer have to continue the headlong flight of the post
post-postmodernists; we are no longer obliged to clig to the avant-garde
of the avant-garde; we no longer seek to be even cleverer, even more crit
ical, even deeper into the "era of suspicion." No, instead we discover that
we have never begun to enter the modern era. Hence the hint of the ludi
crous that always accompanies postmodern thinkers; they claim to come
after a time that has not even started! (47)
There is something new, however; it is that we have reached a point of
saturation.64 And this brings Latour to the question of time, which as
you may see by now is at the center of most of the challenges:
If I explain that revolutions attempt to abolish the past but cannot do so,
I again run the risk of being taken fr a reactionary. This is because fr
the moderns -as for their antimodern enemies, as well as for their fase
postmodern enemies -time's arrow is unambiguous; one can go frward,
but then one has to break with the past; one can choose to go backward,
but then one has to break with modernizing avant-gardes, which have
broken radicaly with their own past . . . . If there P one thng we are in
capable of carrying out, we now kow, it is a revolution, whether it be in
science, technology, politics or philosophy. But we are still modern when
we interpret this fact as a disappointment. (69)
We have all, says Latour, never ceased to be "amoderns" (90). There
are no "cultures," just as there are no "natures"; t
h
ere are only "natures
cultures" (103 -4). "Nature and Society are not two distinct poles, but
one and the same production of successive states of societies-natures, of
collectives" (139). It is by recognizing this and making it the center of
our analyses of the world that we can go frward.
We are at the end of our recital of the challenges. I remind you that
fr me the challenges are not truths but mandates fr reflection about
basic premises. Do you have some doubts about each of the challenges?
Most probably. So do I. But together, they constitute a frmidable at
tack on the culture of sociology and cannot leve us indifferent. Can
there be such a thing as frmal rationality? Is there a civilizational chal
lenge to the Western/modern view of the world that we must take
seriously? Does the reality of multiple social times require us to restruc
ture our theorizing and our methodologies? In what ways do complexity
studies and the end of certainties frce us to reinvent the scientific
method? Can we show that gender is a structuring variable that in
trudes everywhere, even into zones that seem incredibly remote, such
as mathematical conceptualization? And is modernity a deception -
not an illusion, but a deception -that has deceived frst of al social
scientists?
Can the three axioms, derived as I have suggested fom Durkheim/
MarxWeber, the axioms that constitute what I have called the culture
of sociology, dea adequately with these questions, and if not, does the
culture of sociology thereby collapse? And if it does, with what can we
replace it?
The Perspectives
I should like to deal with the promise of social science in terms of
three prospects that seem to me bth possible and desirable fr the
twenty-frst century: the epistemological reunifcation of the so-called
two cultures, that of science and the humanities; the organizational re
unification and redivision of the social sciences; and the assumption by
social science of centrality m the world of knowledge.
What conclusions can we draw fom my analysis of the culture of
sociology and the challenges it has been fcing? First, quite simply, the
ultraspecialization that sociology, and indeed all the other social sci
ences, has been sufering has been both ievitable and self-destructive. 65
We must nonetheless continue to struggle against it, in the hope of
creating some reasonable balance between depth and breadth of knowl
edge, between the microscopic and the synthetic vision. Second, as Neil
Smelser has put it so well recently, there are no "sociologically naive ac
tors."66 But do we have sociologically well-infrmed actors? That is, are
our actors rational? And what world do our actors know?
It seems to me that the social fcts with which we deal are social
in two senses: they are shared perceptions of reality, shared more or
less by some medium-large group but with different shadings fr every
individual viewer. And they are socially constructed perceptions. But let
us be clear. It is not the analyst whose social construction of the world is
of interest. It is that of the collectivity of actors who have created social
reality by their cumulated actions. The world is as it is because of all
that has preceded this moment. What the analyst is trying to discern is
how the collectivity has constructed the world, using of course his own
socially constructed vision.
The arrow of time is thus ineluctable, but also unpredictable, since
there are always bifrcations bfore us, the outcome of which is inher
ently indeterminate. Furthermore, although there is but one arrow of
time, there are multiple times. We cannot aford to neglect either the
structural longue duree or the cyclical rhythms of the historical system
we are analyzing. Time is far more than chronometry and chronology.
Time also duration, cycles, and disjunction.
On the one hand, a real world does exist, indubitably. If it doesn't
exist, 76 don't exist, and that is absurd. If we don't believe this, we
should not be in the business of studying the social world. Solipsists
cannot talk even to themselves, since we are all changing at each instant,
and therefre, if one adopts the standpoint of a solipsist, our own views
of yesterday are as irrelevant to our created visions of toay as are the
views of others. Solipsism is the greatest of all frms of hubris, greater
even than objetivism. It is the belief that our ratiocinations create what
we perceive and that we thereby prceive what exists, that which we
have created.
But, on the other hand, it is also true that we can only know the
world through our vision of it, a collective social vision no doubt, but a
human vision nonetheless. This is obviously as true of our vision of the
physical world as it is of our vision of the social world. In that sense,
we all depend on the glasses with which we engage in this perception,
the organizing myths (yes, the grand narratives) that William McNeill
calls "mythistory,"67 without which we are helpless to say anything. It
follows fom these constraints that there are no concepts that are not
plural; that all universals are partial; and that there exists a plurality of
universals. And it also fllows that all verbs that we use must be written
in the past tense. The present is over before we can pronounce it, and
all statements need to be located in their historical context. The nomo
thetic temptation is every bit as dangerous as the idiographic temptation
and constitutes a pitfll into which the culture of sociology has more
fequently led too many of us.
Yes, we are at the end of certainties. But what does this mean in
practice? In the history of thought, we have been constantly offered
certainty. The theologians ofered us certainties as seen by prophets,
priests, and canonized texts. The philosophers offered us certainties as
rationally deduced or induced or intuited by them. And the modern sci
entists offered us certainties as verified empirically by them using criteria
they invented. of them have claimed that their truths were validated
visibly in the real world, but that these visible proofs were merely the
outward and limited expression of deeper, more hidden truths fr whose
secrets and discovery they were the indicated intermediaries.
Each set of certainties has prevailed fr some times in some places,
but none of them everywhere or eternally. Enter the skeptics and ni
hilists who pointed to this wide array of contradictory truths and derived
fom the doubts this sowed the proposition that no claimed truth is
more valid than any other. But if the universe is in fct intrinsically
uncertain, it does not fllow that the theological, the philosophical, and
the scientifc enterprises have no merit, and it surely does not fllow that
any of them represents merely a gigantic deception. What does fllow
is that we would b ws to frmulate our quests in the light of per
manent uncertainty and look upon this uncertainty not as unfrtunate
and temporary blindness nor as an insurmountable obstacle to knowl
edge but rather as an incredible opportunity to imagine, to create, to
search.68 Pluralism becomes at this point not an indulgence of the weak
and ignorant but a cornucopia of possibilities fr a btter universe.69
In 1998, a group composed largely of physical scientists published a
book they entitled Dictionnaire de !'ignorance (Dictionary of ignorance) ,
arguing that science plays a bigger role i n creating zones of ignorance
than in creating zones of knowledge. I cite the blurb they placed on the
back of the book:
In the process of science enlarging our feld of knowledge, we become
aware, paradoxically, that our ignorance grows well. Each new prob
lem we reslve tends to cause the appearance of new enigmas, such that
the processes of research and discoveries renew themselves constantly.
The fontiers of knowledge seem to widen ceaselessly, giving birth to
previously unsuspected questions. But these new problems are salutary.
Creating new challenges to science, they oblige it to advance in a per
petual movement without which, perhaps, its light would be quickly
extinguished.
One of the problems abut the creation of new ignorances is that
there is no plausible reason to presume that they cn b best treated only
in or by the narrow domain within which these ignorances were uncov
ered. The physicist may expose new ignorances that require for their
resolution concerns previously designated as biological or philosophical.
And this is, as we know, certainly true of the new ignorances sociolo
gists uncover. The protection of one's turf in the fce of new ignorances
is the worst of scholarly sins, and the greatest possible deterrence to
clarity.
It is this issue of turf that underlies the organizational problems of
the social sciences. The institutionalization of the nominal divisions of
the social sciences is extremely strong today, despite all the genufection
before the rosy glow of "interdisciplinarity." Indeed, I would argue that
interdisciplinarity is itself a lure, representing the greatest support pos
sible to the current list of disciplines, by implying that each has some
special knowledge that it might be usefl to combine with some other
special knowledges in order to solve some practical problem.
The fct is that the three great cleavages of nineteenth-century social
science: past/present, civilized/others, and state/market/civil society are
all three totally indefensible as intellectual markers today. There are no
sensible statements one can make in the so-called felds of sociology,
economics, or political science that are not historical, and there are no
sensible historical analyses one can undertake that do not make use of
the so-called generalizations that are in use in the other social sciences.
Why then continue to pretend that we are engaged in different tasks?
As fr civilized/other, the civilized are not civilized and the other
are not other. There are of course specificities, but they are legion, and
the racist simplifications of the modern world are not only noxious but
intellectually disabling. We must learn how to deal with the universal
and the particular as a symbiotic pair that will never go away, and that
must infrm all of our analyses.
And fnally the distinction of state/market/civil society is quite sim
ply an implausible one, as any real actor in the real world knows. The
market is constructed and constrained by the state and the civil society.
The state is a reflection of both the market and the civil society. And
the civil society is defned by the state and the market. One cannot sep
arate these three modes of expression of actors' interests, preferences,
identities, and wills into closeted arenas about which diferent groups
of people will make scientifc statements, ceteris paribs.
I continue, however, to share the Durkheimian premise that psychol
ogy and social science are two separate enterprises, and that psychology
is closer to, perhaps an intrinsic part, of biology. I note that most psy
chologists, fom the behaviorists to the Freudians, seem to share this
view. The group most resistant to this separation is in fct to be fund
within sociology.
If then none of our existing modes of dividing the social sciences
today into separate organizations of knowledge makes sense, what shall
we do? On the one hand, those who have studied what is called the
sociology of organizations have shown us time and again how resis
tant organizations are to imposed change, how fercely and cleverly their
leaders act to defend interests that they will not avow but seem very real
to those in pwer. It is diffcult to frce the pace of transfrmation. It
is perhaps Qixotic even o try. On the other hand, there are processes
internal to each of our organizations that are destroying the boundaries
without the intrusion of any deliberate reform process. Individual schol
ars are seeking peers with which to create the small groups and networks
they fnd necessary to do their work. And increasingly such networks are
paying no attention whatsoever to disciplinary labels.
Furthermore, as specialization proliferates, those who hold the bud
getary purse strings are growing increasingly restive about the seeming
irrationality of the overlaps, especially given the worldwide pressures to
reduce rather than increase expenditures on higher education. It is the
accountants who may frce our pace, and quite possibly in ways that
are not intellectually optimal. Thus, it seems to me, it is urgent that
the scholars engage in organizational exploration, allowing for wide ex
perimentation and being quite tolerant of each other's efforts, in order
to see what kinds of organizational realignments might work best. Per
haps micro-macro should be institutionized as a mode of organizing
groups of scholars. I am not sure. Up to a point, it is in use in the nat
ural sciences already, and in practice (if not in theory), social scientists
are using it too. Or perhaps we should be dividing ourselves according
to the temporalities of change with which we are dealing-short-term,
middle-term, long-term. On none of these dividing lines do I have a
fxed view at this point. I feel we should try them out.
What I am very clear about is that we must opn ourselves up col
lectively and recognize our blinkers. We must read fa more widely than
we now do, and we must strongly encourage our students to do so. We
should recruit our graduate students far more widely than W do, and
we must let them play a major role in determining where we can help
them grow. And it is crucial for us to learn languages. A scholar who
cannot read three to five major scholarly languages is severely handi
capped. English is surely crucial, but English alone means that one has
access to at most 50 percent of what is written, and as the decades go by,
the percentage will diminish because the areas of greatest growth in the
production of scholars will b increasingly non-English in their writ
ten production. Increased reading knowledge of languages goes hand in
hand with increased internationalization of our corps of scholars, even
if they are not identical.
I do not know what kind of restructuring will take place, but I am
skeptical that there will ever be a one hundredth anniversary of any of
the existing international social science associations, at least under the
same name.
I have saved fr the last what I think is the most fscinating per
spective of all, and perhaps the most important. Ever since the so-called
divorce between philosophy and science consummated in the late eigh
teenth century, the social sciences have been the poor relation -neither
fish nor fwl, and scorned by both sides in this war of the "two cultures. "
And the social scientists have internalized this image, feling they had
no fate other than to align themselves either with the scientists or with
the humanists. Today the situation has radically changed. In the physical
sciences, there is a strong and growing knowledge movement, complex
ity studies, that talks of the arrow of time, of uncertainties, and believes
that human social systems are the most complex of all systems. And
in the humanities, there is a strong and growing knowledge movement,
cultural studies, that believes that there are no essential aesthetic canons
and that cultural products are rooted in their social origins, their social
receptions, and their social distortions.
It seems to me clear that complexity studies and cultural studies have
moved the natural sciences and the humanities respectively onto the ter
rain of social science. What had been a centrifugal feld of forces in the
world of knowledge has become a centripetal one, and social science is
now central to knowledge. We are in the process of trying to overcome
the "two cultures," of trying to reunite into a single domain the search
fr the true, the good, and the beautiful. This is cause fr rej oicing, but
it w be a very diffcult row to hoe.
Knowledge, in the face of uncertainties, involves choices -choices
by all matter, and of course choices by social actors, among them the
scholars. And choices involve decisions about what is substantively ra
tional. We can no longer even pretend that scholars can be neutral, that
is, divested of their social reality. But this in no way means that any
thing goes. b means that we have to weigh carefly all the factors, in
all the domains, to try to arrive at optimal decisions. And that in turn
means we have to talk to each other and to do so as equals. Yes, some
of us have more specifc knowledge about specifc areas of concern than
others, but no one, and no group, has al the knowledge necessary to
make substantively rational decisions, even in relatively limited domains,
without taking into account the knowledge of others outside these do
mains. Yes, no doubt, I would want the most competent brain surgeon,
if I needed brain surger. But competent brain surgery involves some
judgments that are juridical, ethical, philosophical, psychological, and
sociological as well. And an institution like a hospital needs to bring
these wisdoms into a blended substantively rational view. Futhermore,
the views of the patient are not irrelevant. It is the brain surgeon more
than anyone else who needs to know this, as does the sociologist or the
poet. Skills do not dissolve into some formless void, but skills are always
partial and need to b integrated with other partial skills. In the mod
ern world, we have been doing very little of this. And our education
does not prepare us sufficiently for this. Once we realize that fnctional
rationality does not exist, then and only then can we begin to achieve
substantive rationality.
This u what I believe Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers mean when
they speak of the "reenchantment of the world."71 It is not to deny the
very important task of "disenchantment," but to insist that we must put
the pieces together again. We dismissed final causes too fast. Aristotle
was not that folish. Yes, we need to look at effcient causes, but we
need also to look at fnal causes. The scientists generalized a tactic usefl
fr disentangling themselves fom theol
gical and philosophical control

systems into a methodological imperative, and this has been disabling.
Final y, the world of knowledge is an egalitarian world. This has
been one of the great contributions of science. Anyone is authorized
to challenge the veracity of existing statements of truth, provided that
he or she frnishes some empirical evdence fr the counterstatement
and offers it to everyone for collective evaluation. But since the scien
tists refsed to be social scientists, they neglected to observe, or even
realize, that this virtuous insistence on egalitarianism in science was not
possible, was not even credible, in an inegalitarian social world. To be
sure, politics arouses fears in scholars, and they seek sfety in insulation.
Scholars are afaid of the powerful minority, the minority in power.
They are afaid of the powerfl majority, the majority who might come
into pwer. It will not be easy to create a more egalitarian world. None
theless, to achieve the objective that natural science bequeathed the
world requires a far more egalitarian social setting that we now have.
The struggle fr egalitarianism in science and in society are not two
separate struggles. They are one and the same, which pints once again
to the impossibility of separating the search fr the true, the good, and
the beautifl.
Human arrogance has been humanity's greatest self-imposed limita
tion. This, it seems to me, is the message of the story of Adam in the
Garden of Eden. We were arrogant in claiming to have received and
understood the revelation of God, to know the intent of the gods. We
were even more arrogant in asserting that W were capable N arriving at
eternal truth through the use of human reason, fallible a tool. And
we have been continuously arrogant in seeking to impose on each other,
and with such violence and cruelty, our subjective images of the perfect
society.
In these arrogances, we have btrayed frst of all ourselves, and
closed of our potentials, the possible virtues we might have had, the
possible imaginations we might have fstered, the possible cognitions
we might have achieved. We live in an uncertain cosmos, whose single
greatest merit is the permanence of this uncertainty because it is this
uncertainty that makes possible cretivity-cosmic creativity, and with
that of course human creativity. We lve in an imperfect world, one that
will always be imperfect and therefore always harbor injustice. But we
are far fom helpless befre this reality. We can make the world less
unjust; we can make it more beautifu we can increase our cognition of
it. We need but to construct it, and in order to construct it we need but
to reason with each other and struggle to obtain fom each other the
special knowledge that each of us has been able to seize. We can labor
in the vineyards and bring frth fuit, if only we ty.
My close collaborator, Terence K. Hopkins, wrote me a note in 1980,
which I will take as our conclusion: "There's no place left to go but
up, and up, and up, which translates into higher and higher and higher
intellectual standards. Elegance. Precision. Short compass. Being right.
Enduring. That's a.
Notes
Uncertainty and Creativity
1. These theses have been argued at some length in two recent books: Immanuel
Wallerstein, After Liberalism (New York: New Press, 1995), and Terence K. Hopkins
and Immanuel Wallerstein, cords. , The Age o Transition: Trajectory o th World-System,
1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
2. lya Prigogine, La fn des cetitudes (Paris: OdileJacob, 1996); English trans. : The
End (Certaint (New York: Fre Press, 1997).
1. Social Science and the Communist Interlude
1. In Pasternak's original novel, Zhivago is greeted ony by his family, who explain
that they have "given away" two of the three flors of "living space" (the new term) to
various Soviet institutions. But in this version, to, Zhivago expresses his sense that this
is more just, that the rich have previously had too much of everything.
Z. The ANC and South Africa
1. For an elabration of thes ideas, see Immanuel Wallerstein, "The French Rev
olution as a World-Historical Event," in Unthinking Social Science (Cambridge: Polity
Pres, 1991), 7-22.
2. The argument in the fllowing paragraphs summarizes an extensive analysis
in Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, coords., Th Age o Transition:
Trajectoy o the Wold-System, 1 945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
3. See Fernand Braudel, Capitalism and Civilization, 15th to 18th Century, 3 vols.
(New York: Harper and Row, 1981-84).
d. The Rise of East Asia
1. This is precisely the subject of Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein,
coords., The Age o Transition: Trajectoy ofthe World-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed
Press, 1996).
2. For an erly, detailed analysis of these proc
d
ses, see Folker Frobel, "The Current
Development of the World-Economy: Reproduction of Labor and Accumulation of
Capital on a World Scale," Review 5, no. 4 (spring 1982): 507-55.
3. I resume here material that has been argued at length in Immanuel Wallerstein,
After Liberalism (New York: New Press, 1995).
253
254 NOTES TO CODA
4. Of course, other regions of the world were also reacting at the same time.
Ethiopia had defeted Italy in 1896. Mexico had its revolution in 1910. There were
a succession of events/revolutions in the Ottoman Empire/Turkey, Persia, Afghanistan,
and the Arab world in the beginning of the twentieth century. The Indian National
Congress was funded in 1886, and the South African Native National Congress (to
become later the ANC) in 1912. But the East Asian events had particularly wide
resonance.
5. I previously argued this in more detail in "Japan and the Futre Trajectory of
the World-System: Lessons from History," in Geopolitics and Geocultue: Essays on the
Changing Wold-System (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 36-48.
6. In particular, see chapters 8 and 9 of Hopkins and Walerstein, Age o Transition.
Coda: The So-called Asian Crisis
1. This has been long discussed by economic historians and reently spelled out in
great detail by Giovani Arrighi in The Long Twentieth Century (London: Verso, 1994).
2. I have analyzed this whole process both i "Crisis as Transition," in Samir Amin
et al., Dynamics o Global Crisis (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1982), 11-54, and in
Geopolitics and Geoculture: Essays in World-Economy (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Pres, 19 91), esp. part 1.
3. Henry Kissinger, "How U.S. Can End Up as the Good Guy," Los Angeles Times,
February 8, 1998.
4. See Robert E. Ward and Dankwart A. Rustow, eds. , Political Modernization in
Turky and Japan (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1964).
5. See the analysis in Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, cords. , The
Age of Transition: Trjectoy of the World-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
4. States? Sovereignty?
1. R. H. Tawney, Equalit, 4th ed. (London: George Allen and Unwin, 1952), 109.
2. Juan Carlos Lerda, "Globalization and the Loss of Autonomy by the Fisal,
Banking and Monetary Authorities," CEPAL Review 58 (Apri 1996): 76-77. The text
go on: "It is worth asking, for exaple, whether the international fnancial markets'
growing intolerance -of arbitrary manipulation of the exchange rate, or of sustained
high public deficits -realy afects domestic authorities' autonomy (by tightening the
restrictions on governments) or if it is not rather a force for good which will prevent
greater evs in the fture (such as the accumulation of large exchange rate slippages
which give rise to fancial traumas with considerable negative effects in the real sphere
of the economy when devaluation inevitably occurs). "
3. Heny Kaufman, "After Drexel, Wall Street Is Headed for Darker Days,"
International Heald Tribune, February 24-25, 1990 (reprinted from New York Times).
4. See the detailed analysis of the crisis in the structures of the capitalist world
economy in Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, coords., The Age of
Transition: Trjectoy of the Wold-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
NOTES TO CHAPTER B 255
6. Liberalism and Democracy
1. I have outlined the ways in which entrepreneurs have aways depended on the
states in chapter 4, above. See also Fernand Braudel, Civilisation materiele, economie et
capitalisme, 7'~7J' siecles (Paris: Amand Colin, 1979); Eng. trans. : Capitalism and
Civilization, 15th to 18th Century, 3 vols. (New York: Harper and Row, 1981-84).
2. I have outlined how and why this has been done over the centuries in "The
Bourgeois(ie) as Reality and Concept," in Etiene Balibar and Immanuel Waerstein,
Race, Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities (London: Verso, 1991), 135-52.
3. I do this in "The French Revolution as a World-Historical Event," in Unthink
ing Social Science (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991), 7-22, and also in part 2 of Afer
Liberlism (New York: New Press, 1 995).
4. See the theorization of igalibete in Etienne Balbar, "Trois concepts de la poli
tique:
E
mancipation, transformation, civilite," in La cainte des masses (Paris: Galilee,
1997), 17-53.
5. Tlis is a theme that I have pursued in detail in Afer Liberalism, especialy but
not ony in part 4. Se also my "Marx, Marxism-Leninism, and Socialist Experiences
in the Modern World-System," in Geopolitics and Geoculture (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991), 84-97, and chapter 1, above.
6. For the detailed arguments, se my chapters 7 and 8 in Terence K. Hopkins and
Immanuel Wallerstein, coords., The Age o Transition: Trajectory o the World-System,
1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
J. Integration to What? Marginalization from What?
1. See Frederic Lane, Prcts and Power (Albany: State University of New York
Press, 1979).
2. I spel out the historical relationship of the states to the entrepreneurs in
chapter 4, above.
3. The historical evolution of this program and its social underpinnings are ana
lyzed in detail in my Afer Liberalism (New York: New Press, 1995), esp. part 2, "The
Construction and Triumph of Libral Ideology," 71-122.
4. See Georges Haupt, Le cogres manqui: L'interationae la vei le d e la premiere
guerre mondiale (Paris: Francois Maspero, 1965).
5. A. Kriegel and J.-J. Becker, 1914: La gurre et le mouvement ouvrier fanrais
(Paris: Armand Colin, 1964), 123.
6. But see Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, coords. , The Age o
Transition: Trajectory o the World-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
d. Social Change?
1. The argument that follows is an abbreviat summary of the explanation I offer
i some detail in "The West, Capitalism, and the Modern World-System," Review 15,
no. 4 (fall 1992): 561-619.
2. I have done this i n the three volumes of The Modern Wold-System (vols. 1 and
2: New York: Academic Pres, 1974, 1980; vol. 3: San Diego: Academic Pres, 1989) as
well as in many other writings.
256 NOTES TO CHAPTER 9
3. I here summarize arguments to be found in After Liberalism (New York: New
Press, 1995) and in Terence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, cords. , The Age g
Transition: Trajectoy o the World-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
. Social Science and Contemporary Society
1. See my "The West, Capitalism, and the Modern World-System," Review 15,
no. 4 (fa 1992): 561-619.
2. Steven Shapin, A Social History o Truth: Civilit and Science i n Seventeenth
Century England (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994).
3. See Richard Olson, The Emergence o the Social Sciences, 1 642-1 792 (New York:
Twayne Publishers, 1993).
4. Webr, Economy and Society (New York Bedminster Press, 1968); subse
quent references to this work in the text will be cited there and will give volume number
and page number.
5. See my "The French Revolution as a World-Historical Event," in Unthinking
Social Science (Cambridge: Polity Pres, 1991), 7-22.
6. See two chapters in my After Liberalis (New York: New Press, 1995): "Liberal
ism and the Legitimation of Nation-States: 1Historical Interpretation," 93-107 and
"The Concept of National Development: Elegy and Requiem," 108-22.
7. Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents (London: Hogarh Press, 1951);
subsequent references to this work in the text Wbe cited there.
8. Giovanni Arrighi et al., "1989, Continuation of 1968," Review 15, no. 2 (spring
1992): 221-42.
9. See my "Peace, Stability, and Legitimacy: 1990-2025/2050," inAfter Liberalism,
25-45.
1. Diferentiation and Reonstruction in the Social Sciences
1. These statements are all drawn from Ilya Prigogine, "La fn de la certitude,"
in Representation et complexite, ed. E. R. Lareta (Rio de Janeiro: Educam/UNESCO/
ISSC, 1997), 61-84; subsequent references to this work in the text will be cited there.
Prigogine's paper was given at a collouium convened by the Senior Board of the Inter
national Social Science Council, in conjunction with others, to discuss the implications
of the work of Prigogine for the social sciences.
1 1. Eurocentrism and Its Avatars
l E. ]. Jones, The European Miracle: Environment, Economics, and Geopolitics in the
History o Europe and Asia (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981).
2. Cited in Anouar Abdel-Malek, La dialectique sociale (Paris: Seuil, 1972), 89;
Eng. trans.: Social Dialectics (London: Macmillan, 1981).
3. Heinrich Rickert, The Limits of Concept Formation i n the Phsical Sciences
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986 [1913]).
4. Abdel-Malek, La dialectique sociale; Edward Said, Orienta/ism (New York:
Pantheon Books, 1978).
NOTES TO CHAPTER 14 257
5. See Wilfred Cantwell Smith, "The Place of Oriental Studies i n a University,"
Diogenes 16 (1956): 106-1 1 .
6. Xiaomei Chen, "Occidentalism as Counterdiscourse: 'He Shang' in Post-Mao
China," Critical Inquiry 18, no. 4 (summer 1992): 687.
7. See J. B. Bury The Idea of Progress (London: Macmillan, 1920); and Robert A.
Nisbet, Histoy of the Idea of Progress (New York: Basic Books, 1980).
8. See various authors in Stephen K. Sanderson, ed. , Civilizations and World
Systems: Studying U-'rld-Histoical Change (Walnut Creek, Calif. : Altamira, 1995).
9. See my "The West, Capitalism, and the Modern World-System," Review 15,
no. 4 (fal 1992): 561-619.
10. Adam Smith, Inquir into the Natue and Causes of th Wealth of Nati(s (New
York: Moern Library, 1937 [1776)), 13.
11. Per contra, see Samir Amin, "The Ancient World-Systems versus the Modern
Capitalist World-System," Review 14, no. 3 (summer 1991): 349-85.
1 2. Ste Immanuel Wallerstein, Afer Liberalism (New York: New Press, 1995); Ter
ence K. Hopkins and Immanuel Wallerstein, coords. , The Age of Transition: Trjecto
of the World-System, 1945-2025 (London: Zed Press, 1996).
13. See my "Capitalist Civilization," Chinese University Buletin 23 (1992), reprinted
in Historical Capitalism, with Capitalist Civilization (London: Verso, 1995).
14. See Joseph Needham, Science and Civilisation in China (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Pres, 1954-), multiple volumes in progress.
1 Z. The Structures of Knowledge
1. Immanuel Wallerstein et al., Open the Social Sciences: Report of the Gulbenkian
Commission on the Restructuring of the Social Sciences (Stanfrd, Calif. : Stanfrd Univer
sity Press, 1996).
2. Ilya Prigogine, La.n des certitudes (Paris: Odile Jacob, 1996), 67.
Td.The Rise and Future Demise of World-Systems Analysis
1. See the discussion in Immanuel Wallerstein et al., Open the Social Sciences: Report
oft he Gulbenkian Commission on the Restruturing oft he Social Sciences (Stanfrd, Calif. :
Stanford University Press, 1996).
2. See my "The Unintended Consequences of Cold Wa Area Studies," in
N. Chomsk et al., The Cold H and the Universit: Toward an Intellectul Hitor of
the Postwar Years (New York: New Press, 1997), 19 5-231 .
3. I have argued the nature of such risks i n my article "Hold the Tiler Firm: On
Method and the Unit of Analysis," i n Civilizations and World Systems: Studying World
Historical Change, ed. Stephen ! Sanderson (Walnut Creek, Calif. : Altamira, 1995),
239-47.
. Social Science and the Quest for a Just Society
1. Cited in Alexander Koyre, From the Closed Wold to the Infnite Universe
(Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1957), 276.
258 NOTES TO CHAPTER 1 5
2. Cited in Roger Hahn, Lap! ace as a Newtonian Scientist ( a paper delivered at
a Seminar on the Newtonian Infuence held at the Clark Libray, April 8, 1967)
(University of California, Los Angeles: William Andrews Clark Memorial Libray,
1967), 15.
3. Immanuel Wallerstein, "History in Seach of Science," Review 19, no. 1 (winter
1996): 11-22.
4. See Immanuel Walerstein et al., Oen the Social Sciences: Report o the Gu
benkian Commission o the Restrturing o th Social Sciences (Stanford, Calif.: Stanfod
University Press, 1996).
5. "The crystal has been shattered," Iva Ekeland tells us. "The quaitative ap
proach is not a mere stand-in for quantitative methods. It may lead to great theoretical
advances, as in fluid dynamics. It also has a signifcant advantage over quantitative meth
ods namely, stability" (Mathematics and the Unexpected [Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1988), 73).
6. llya Prigogine, La Jn des certitudes (Paris: Odile Jacob, 1996), 83, 177.
7. I have no place to argue this here, but I have spelled this out previously in "Peace,
Stability, and Legitimacy, 1990-2025/2050," in Afer Liberalism (New York: New Press
1995), 25-45.
1b.The Heritage of Sociology, the Promise of Social Science
1. Tacott Parsons, Th Strcture ofSocial Actio, 2d ed. (Glencoe, W . : Free Press,
1949 (1937]).
2. Immanuel Wallerstein et al., Open the Social Sciences: Reort o th Gulbenkian
Commission on the Restrcturing of the Social Sciences (Stanfrd, Caif.: Stanford Univer
sity Press, 1996), chap. 1.
3. Ibid., chap. 2.
4. Michel Foucault, Th Archaeology o Knowlege (New York: Pantheon, 1972);
Pierre Bourdieu, Homo Academicus (Stanford, Caif.: Stanford University Press, 1988).
5. If one loks at one of the very last articles that Weber wrote, "Science as a
Vocation," delivered 8 a speech in 1918, one notices that Weber spcifically identifies
himslf in the second sentence as a "political economist." In fact, in the German text,
the word he uses to describe himself is Natitnalokonom, which is clos to, but not quite,
a political economist. Further on in the text, however, he refers to work that "sociologists
must necessarily undertake." In this latter sentence, one is not sure to what degree he is
referring to himself (Max Weber, "Science as a Voc_ation," in From Ma Wber: Essays in
Sociology. ed. H. H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills [New York: Oxford University Press,
1946 (1919)), 129, 134).
6. One recent example is by a Canadian sociologist, Ken Morrison: Marx, Durk
heim, Weber: Formations of Mode Social Thought (London: Sage, 1995). Its blurb reads:
"Every undergraduate course focuses on Marx, Durkheim and Weber 8 the base of the
classical tradition in soiological theory.
7. On the relative decline of Durkheim, and especially of the L'nnee Sociologiqu,
5 Terry N. Clak, whe Structure and Functions of a Research Institute: The Annie
Sociologique," European Journal o Sociology 9 (1968): 89-91.
8. George E. G. Catlin, introduction to Emile Durkheim, Th Rules ofSociological
Method, trans. Saah A. Solovay and John H. Mueller, 8th ed. (Glencoe, . : Free Press,
1 964 [1938], xi-xii).
9. R. W. Connell, "Why Is Classical Theory Classical?" American journal o
Sociology 102, no. 6 (May 1967): 1514.
10. Emile Durkheim, The Rules ofSociological Method, trans. W. D. Halls (Glencoe,
: Free Press, 1982 [1938]), 35-36.
1 1. To the view that society is based on a substratum of individual consciousnesses,
Durkheim responds: "Yet what is so readily deemed unacceptable for social facts is freely
admitted for other domains of nature. Whenever elements of any kind combine, by
virtue of this combination they give ris to new phenomena. One is therefore forced to
conceive of these phenomena as residing, not in the elements but in the entity formed
by the union of these elements . . . . Let us apply this principle to sociology. If, 8 is
granted to us, this synthesis sui geeris, which constitutes every society, give rise to new
phenomena, different from those which ocur in consciousnesses in isolation, one is
forced to admit that these specifc facts reside in the soiety itslf that produces them
and not in its parts -namely its members" (Durkheim, Rules [1982], 38-40).
12. "What is exclusively peculiar to social constraint is that it stems not from the
unyieldingness of certain patterns of molecules but from the prestige with which cer
tain representations ae endowed. It is true that habits, whether unique to individuals or
hereditary, in certain respects possess this same property. They dominate us and impose
belief and practices upon us. But they dominate us from within, for they are wholy
within each one of U By contrast, social beliefs and practices act upn us from the out
side; thus the ascendancy exerted by the former as compared with the latter is basically
very different" (ibid., 44 ).
13. Ibid., 45.
1 4. "Despite the fact that beliefs and soial practices permeate us in this way from
the outside, it does not folow that we receive them passively and without causing them
to undergo modifcation. In thinking about collective institutions, in assimilating our
selves to them, we individuais them, we more or less impart to them our own personal
stamp. Thus in thinking about the world of the senses each one of us colours it in
his own way, and different people adapt themselves differently to an identical physical
environment. This is why each one of us creates to a certain extent his own moraity,
m 0 religion, m own techniques. Every typ of social conformity carries with it a
whole gamut of individua variations. It is nonetheless true that the sphere of permitted
variations is limited. It is non-existent or very smal as regards religious and moral phe
nomena, where deviations may easily become crimes. It is more extensive for all matters
relating to economic life. But sooner or later, even in this last cas, one encounters a
limit that must not be overstepped" (ibid., 47, n. 6).
15. Ibid., 45.
16. Ibid., 32-33.
17. In his recent discussion of rational choice theory, Willia J. Goode notes: "Or
dinarily, sociologists begin with behavor whose aims and goals seem to be clear enough,
and we try to find out which variables explain mst of the variance. However, if those
variables fail to predict adequately, if for example people choose consistently to act in
ways that lower the likelihood that they will achieve what they claim is their material,
moral, or esthetic goal, we do not suppose that thes pople are irrational. Instead, we
lok at them more closly to loate the 'underlying rationality' of what they ae realy
seeking" (William ]. Goode, "Rational Choice Theory," American Sociologist, 28, no. 2
[summer 1997] : 29) .
18. Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, Th Communist Manisto (New York: Inter
nation
a
l Publishers, 1948 [ 1848]), 9. In the 1888 preface added by Engels, he restates
the "fndamental proposition which forms [the] nucleus [of the Maniesto] . . . . That
in every historical epoch, the prevailing moe of economic prouction and exchange,
and the soial organization necessaily following from it, form the basis upon which is
built up, and fom which alone can be explained, the plitical and intelletual history
of that epoch; that consequently the whole history of mankind (since the dissolution
of primitive tribal society, holding land in common ownership) has been a history of
class struggles, contests between exploiting and exploited, ruling and oppressed classes;
that the history of these class struggles fors a series of evolutions in which, nowadays,
a stage has been reached where the exploited and oppressed class -the proletariat -
cannot attain its emancipation from the sway of the exploiting and rulg class -the
bourgeoisie -without at the same time, and once and for al, emancipating soiety at
large from Mexploitation, oppression, class distinctions, and class struggles" (ibid., 6).
19. In discussing what happened in France in the period 1848-51, Marx says: "And
as in private life one diferentiates between what a man thinks and says of himslf and
what he really is and does, so in historical struggle one must distinguish stil more the
phrases and fncies of partie fom their real organizations and their real interests, their
conceptions of themselves fom their reality" (Karl Marx, The 18th Brumaire o Louis
Napoleon [New York: International Publishers, 1963 (1852)], 47).
20. "[Custom and material advantage] do not form a suffciently reliable basis for a
given domination. In addition there is normally a further element, the belief in legiti
mac. Experience shows that in no instance dos domination voluntarily limit itslf to
material or afectual or ideal motives as a basis for its continuance. In addition every
such system attempts to cultivate the belief in its legitimacy. But according to the kind
of legitimacywhich is claimed, the type of obedience, the kind of administrative staff
developed to guarantee it, and the mode of exercising authority, will all differ fnda
mentally" (Max Weber, Economy and Society, ed. Guenther Roth and Claus Wittich
[New York: Bedminster Press, 1 968), 213).
21. Ibid., 217.
22. "In genera it should be kept clealy i n mind that the basis of every authority,
and correspondingly of every kind of willingness to oby, is a belif a blef by virtue
of which persons exercisig authority ae lent prestige. The composition of this belief
is seldom altogether simple. In the case of 'legal authority,' it is never purely legal. The
belief in legality comes to be established ad habitual, and this means that it is parly
traditional Violation of the tradition may be fata to it. Furthermore, it has a charis
matic element, at least in the negative sense that prsistent and striking lack of success
may be sufficient to ruin any government, to undermine its prestige, and to prepare the
way for charismatic revolution" (ibid. , 263 ).
23. Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents (New York: W. W. Norton,
1961 [1930
]
).
24. Sigmund Freud, The Interpretation of Dreams (New York: Basic Books, 1955
[1900
]
).
25. 'We have learnt from psycho-analysis that the essence of the process of repres
sion lies, not in puuing an end to, in annihilating, the idea which represents an instinct,
but in preventing it fom becoming conscious" (Sigmund Freud, "The Unconscious," in
Standard Edition [1957 (1915)], 14:166).
26. "A gain in meaning is a peretly justifable ground for going beyond the lmits of
direct experience . . |uas Kant wared us not to overlok the fact that our perceptions
are subjctively conditioned and must not be regarded as identical with what is perceived
though unnowable, so psycho-aalysis wars us not to equte perceptions by means of
consciousness with the unconscious mental processes which are their object. Like the
physical, the psychical is not necessariy in reality what it appears to us to be" (ibid. ,
14: 167, 171).
27. Ibid., 14: 182.
28. "The ego behaves as if the danger of a development of anxiety threatened it not
fom the direction of an instinctual impulse but from the direction of a perception, and
it is thus enabled to react against the external danger with the attempts at fight repre
sented by phobic avoidances. In this process repression is successful in one particular; the
release of aniety can to some extent be dammed up, but only at a hevy sacrifce of pr
sonal freedom. Attempt at fjght from the demands of instinct are, however, in general
useless, and in spite of everything, the result of phobic fight remains unsatisfactory"
(ibid., 14: 184 ).
29. Ibid., 14:203.
30. "The battle with the obstacle of an unconscious sense of guilt is not made easy
for the analyst. Nothing can be done against it directly, and nothing indirectly but the
slow procedure of unmasking its unconscious repressed rots, and of thus gradully
changing it ito a conscious sense of guilt . . . . It depends pricipaly on the intensity of
the sense of guilt; there is often no counteracting force of a similar order of strength
which the treatment can oppose to it. Perhaps it may depend, to, on whether the per
sonaity of the analyst allows of the patient's putting him in the place of his ego ideal,
and this involve a temptation for the analyst to play the part of prophet, sviour and
redeemer to the patient. Since the rules of analysis are diametricaly opposed to the
physician's making use of his prsonality in any such maner, it must be honestly con
fessed that here we have another limitation to the effectiveness of analysis; after all
analysis do not set out to make pathological rections impossible, but to give the pa
tient's ego feedom to decide one way or the other" (Sigmund Freud, The Ego and the J
[New York: V V Norton, 1960 (1923)], 50-51).
31. Freud, Civilization, 34, 35-36.
32. Anouar Abdel-Malek, Civilisations and Social Theory, vol. 1 of Social Dialectics
(London: Macmillan, 1981 [1972]), xii; subsequent references to this work in the tex
wil b cite there.
33. "The initial inspiration . . . lies and remains deeply rooted in the transformation
of the world in our time, in the rise to contemporaneity of the Orient -Asia and
Africa, together with Latin America . . . . The central diffculty facing social theory at
the time of Yalta, the clim of Western hegemony, was how to generate ways and
means of tacklig the hitherto marginlised socieFies and culture belonging within the
non-Wester civiisationl moulds. Prepostulated universalism, as a recipe, simply would
not do. It was neither able to interpret, from the inside, the specificities at work, nor was
it acceptable to the major frmative tendencies withi the national schools of thought
and action . . . . A non-temporal soia theory can ony obtain in the subjectivist episte
mological prouctions of professional ideologists, divorced from the real concrete world,
from the objective dialectics of human societies in given historical perios and places,
and fom the geo-historical frmative influences deeply at work in the hidden part of
the iceberg" (ibid., xi, xiii).
34. "On the other side of the river, the conceptions of the Orient were structured
through a diferent process realisd in a totally different environment. If we study the
historical-geographical constitution of the nations and societies of the Orient -Asia,
around China; the Islamic area in Afro-Asia-it will be clear immediately that we have
bfore us the oldest sedentary and stable societies of socioeconomic formations in the
history of mankind. A group of societies cme to be established around the major rivers,
facing wide openings to the ocean and sea, thus enabling the pastoral groups to move to
ward a more stable, agricultual-sedentay mode of production and social existence . . . . It
is crucial here to consider the relevance of 'durability,' of 'societal maintenance' through
centuries and millennia to these objctive basic elements . . . . Time is master. Therefore
the conception of time can be said to have developed as a non-aalyticl vision, as a
unitary, symbiotic, unifed and unifying conception. Man could no longer 'have' or 'lack'
time; time, the master of existence, could not be apprehended as commoity. On the
contra, man was determined and dominated by time" (ibid. , 180-81).
35. Abdel-Malek is not rejecting a of Western modernity. Indeed, he adds this
warning to the Orient in its confrontation with the West: "If the Orient wishes to
become master of its own destiny, it would do well to pnder the old saying of the
martial arts in Japan: 'Do not frget that only he who knows the new things while
knowing the ancient things, cn become a true master' " (ibid. , 185).
36. Fernand Braudel, "History and the Social Sciences: The Longue Duree, " in Econ
omy and Societ in Earl Mode Europe, ed. Burke (London: Routledge and Kegan
Paul, 1972), 35.
37. Sir John Maddox, blub on cover of Ilya Prigogine, Th End o Cetaint (New
York: Free Press, 1997).
38. The End of Certaint is the title given to the English translation of Prigogine's
work in 1997. But the original French title was La fn des cetitudes (Paris: Odile Jacob,
1996 )_ and I think the plural frm is more consonant with his argument.
39. "As is wel known, Newton's law [relting frce and acceleration] has ben su
perseded in the twentieth century by quantum mechanics and relativity. Stil the basic
characteristics of his laws -determinism and time symmetry -have survived . . . . By
way of such equations [such as Shrodinger's equation], lws of nature lead to certitudes.
Once intial conditions are given everything is determined. Nature is an automaton,
which we can contro at least in principle. Novelty, choice, and spontaneous action are
real ony fom our human point of view . . . . The concept of a passive nature subject to
deterministic and time-reversible laws is qute specifc to the Western world. In China
and Japan, nature means 'what is by itself " (Prigogine, End o Certainty, 11-12; subse
quent references to this work in the text will be cited there). Note here the similarity to
Abdel-Malek's insistence on two different civilizational relations to the time-dimension.
40. "Probability plays an essential role in most sciences, from economics to genetics.
Still, the idea that probability is merely a state of mind has survived. We now have to go
a step frther and show how probability enters the fndamental laws of physics, whether
clasicl or quantum . . . . [Arguments that entropy is a measure of ignorance] are unten
able. They imply that it is ou ignorance, our coarse graining, that leads to the second
law [of thermoynamics] . For a well-informed observer, such as the demon imagined
NOTES CHAPTER 15 263
by Laplace, the world woud appear as prfectly time-reversible. We would be the father
of time, of evolution, and not its children . . . . Our own point of view is that the laws of
physics, as frmulated in the taditional way, describe an idealized, stable world that u
quite different fom the unstable, evolving world in which we live. The main reason to
disard the banalization of irreversibility is that we can no longer assoiate the arrow of
time with an increase in disorder. Recent developments in nonequilibrium physics and
chemistry point in the opposite direction. They show unambiguously that the arrow of
time is a source of ode The constructive role of irreversibility is even more striking in
far-fom-equilibrium situations where nonequilibrium leads to new forms of coherence"
(ibid. , 16-17, 25-26).
41. "[O]ur position is that classical mechanics is incomplete because it does not
include irreversible processes associated with an increase in entropy. To include these
processes in its frmulation we must incorporate instability and nonintegrabity. Inte
grable systems are the exception. Starting with the three-body problem, most dynamical
systems are nonintegrable" (ibid. , 108).
42. "Our thinking constitutes a return to realism, but emphaticaly not a return to
determinism . . . . Chance, or probability, is no longer a convenient way of accepting ig
norance, but rather part of a new, extended rationality . . . . In accepting that the fture is
not determined, we come to the end of certainties. Is this an admission of defet for the
human mind? On the contrary we blieve that the opposite is true . . . . Time and reality
are irreducibly linked. Denying time may either be a consolation or a triumph of human
reason. It is always a negation of relity . . . . What we have tried to folow is indeed a
narrow path between two conceptions that both lead to alienation: a world ruled by de
terministic laws, which leaves no place for novelty, and a world ruled by a dice-playing
God, where everything is absurd, acausa and incomprehensible" (ibid. , 131, 155, 183,
187-88). Heed the words "narow path" in the last sentence.
43. It is interesting at this point to return to Braudel to see how his frmuations,
written three decades erlier, use language that is very similar to that of Prigogine. He
wishes to describe his attempts to blend "unity and diversity in the soial sciences" by
a term he sys he brrows from Polish colleagues, that of "complex studies" (Fernand
Braudel, "Unity and Diversity in the Human Sciences," in On Hitory [Chicago: Univer
sity of Chicago Press, 1980 ( 1960)], 61). He desribs histoire iviementiele, the kind
he considers to be dust, as "linear" history (Fernand Braude "History and Sociology,"
in On History, 67). And he tells us to embrace Georges Gurvitch's view of global soci
ety, in a model that reminds us of bifuctions: "[Gurvitch] sees the fture of both [the
Middle Ages in the West and our contemprary society] as hesitating between sveral
diferent destinies, all radically diferent, and this seems to me a reasonable assessment
of the variety of lfe itself; the future is not a single path. So we must renounce the lin
ear" (Fernand Braudel, "The History of Civilizations: The Past Explains the Present,"
in On Hitoy, 200).
44. I cite two summary statements of what feminist scholarship is about. Constance
Jordan (Renaissance Feminism: Literay Texts and Pofitical Models [Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell
University Press, 1990], 1): "Feminist scholarship is predicated on the assumption that
women have experienced life differently fom men and that difference is worth study
ing." And Joan Kelly ( Women, Histoy, and Theory: The Essays of Joan Kell [Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1984] , 1): "Women's history has a dual goal: to restore
women to history and to restore history to women."
45. See Joan Kelly again ( Women, 1): "In seeking to add women to the fundaments
of historical knowledge, women's history has revitalized theory, for it has shaken the
conceptions of historica study. It has done this by making problematical three of the
basic concerns of historical thought: (1) perioization, (2) ctegories of soial analysis,
and (3) theories of social change."
46. Evelyn Fox Keller, Reections on Gender and Science (New Haven: Yale University
Pres, 1985), 3-5.
47. Ibid., 10. Keller writes: ''[Reading laws of nature fr their personal content
uncovers] the personal investment scientists make in impersonality; the anonymity
of the picture they prouce is reveaed 8 itself a kind of signature . . . . Attention to
the intrapersona dynamic of 'theory choice' illuminates some of the subter means
by which ideology manifests itself in science - even in the face of scientists' best
intentions . . . . The fact that Boyle's law is not wrong must, however, not be frgot
ten. Any efective critique of sience needs to take due account of the undeniable
successes of sience as well as of the commitments that have made such successes
possible . . . . Byle's law does give us a reliable description, . . . [one] that stands the tests
of experimental replicability and logical coherence. But it is crucia to recognize that
it is a statement about a paticular st of phenomena, presribd to meet paticular in
terests and described in accordance with certain agreed-upon criteria of both reliability
and utility. Judgments about which phenomena B worth studying, which kinds of data
ae significant -as well as which descriptions (or theories) of those phenomena are
most adequate, satisfying, useful, and even reliable -depend criticaly on the social,
linguistic, and scientifc practices of the judgments in question . . . . [S]cientists in every
discipline live and work with assumptions that fel like constants . . . but ae in fact vai-
able, and, given the right kind of jolt, subject to change. Such parochialities . . . can only
be perceived through the lens of difference, by stepping outside the community" (ibid.,
10-12).
48. "[l]t is a thesis of this book that the ideology of moern science, along with
its undeniable success, crrie within it its own form of projection: the projection of
disinterest, of autonomy, of aienation. My agument is not simply that the dream of
a completely objctive science is in principle unreaizable, but that it contains precisely
what it rejects: the vivid traces of a refected self-image" (ibid., 70).
49. Ibid., 178.
50. Donna J. Haraway, Simians, Cybors, and Women: The Reinvention o Nature
(New York Routledge, 1991), 45; subsequent references to this work in the text will
b cited there.
51. For Haraway, this "means embracing the skilful task of reconstructing the
boundaries of daily life, in partial connection with others, in communication with all
of our parts . . . . This is a dream not of a common language, but of a pwerful infidel
heteroglossia" (ibid., 181).
52. She concludes that "bodies as objects of knowledge ae material-semiotic gener
ative nodes. Their boundaries materialize in soial interaction. Boundaries ae drawn by
mapping processes; 'objects' do not pre-exist as such. Objects are bounday projects. But
boundaries shift from within; boundaries ae very trick. What boundaries provision
aly contain remains generative, prouctive of meanings and bodies. Siting (sighting)
boundaries is a risk practice. Objectivity is not about dis-engagement, but about mu-
tua and usually unequal structuring, about taking risks in a world where 'we' ae
permanently mortal, that is, not in 'fnal' control" (ibid., 200-201).
53. "The White Man's Burden is becoming increasingly heavy fo the earth and es
pecial y for the South. The past 500 yeas of history revel that each time a relationship
of colonization has been established between the North ad nature and people outside
the North, the colonizing men and society have assumed a position of supriorty, and
thus of responsibility fo the futre of the earth ad fr other peoples and cultures.
Out of the assumption of superiority flows the notion of the white ma's burden. Out
of the idea of the white man's burden fows the realiy of the burdens imposed by the
white man on nature, women and others. Therefore, decolonizing the South is inti
mately linked to the isue of decolonizing the North" (Vandana Shiva, in Maria Mies
and Vadana Shiva, Ecofminism [New Delhi: Ka for Women, 1993], 264).
54. Ibid., 265.
55. "While science itself is a product of social frces and has a soial agenda deter
minedby those who can mobilize scientifc production, in contemporary times scientifc
activity has been assigned a privileged epistemological position of being socily and po
liticaly neutral. Thus science takes on a dual character: it offers technological fes fr
soial ad political problems, but absolves ad distances itself from the new social and
political problems it creates . . . . The issue of making visible the hidden links between
science technology and soiety and making manifest and vocal the kind of issues that
ae kept concealed and unspoken is linked with the relationship between the North and
the South. Unless and until there ca be social accountability of the sience and tech
nology structures and the systems to whose needs they respond, there can be no balance
and no accountability in terms of relationships between North and South . . . . To ques
tion the omnipotence of science and technology's ability to solve ecological problems is
an important step in the decolonization of the North" (ibid., 272-73).
56. Sandra Harding, The Science Question in Feminism (Ithaca, N.Y.: Corell Uni
versity Press, 1986), 47. Harding writes: "In social inquiry we . . . want to explain the
origins, frms, and prevaence of appaently irrational but cultuewide patters of
human belief and action . . . . Only if we insist that science is anayticaly separate from
social life can we maintain the fiction that exlanations of irrational soial belief and
bhavior could not ever, in principle, increas our understanding of the world physics
explains . . . . Counting objects and partitioning a line ae common social practices, and
these practices can generate contradictoryways of thinking abut the ojects of mathe
matical inquiry. It may be hard to imagine what gender practices could have inuenced
the acceptance of particula concepts in mathematics, but cases such as these show that
the possibility cannot be ruled out a priori by the clam that the intellectua, logical
content of mathematics is free of al social infuence" (ibid., 47, 51).
57. Jensen says in a review of fve books on these questions: "Except primatology,
mainstream siences have virtualy ignored feminist attempts to rename nature and re
construct science. Beyond suggesting models and taxonomies that are less hierachical,
more permeable, and more reflexive than the male prototypes . . . it is not clear what
l
feminist revisions ad reconstruction of science will entail. Feminist practices may gen-
erate new ways of being in the world . . . and thereby give birth to new ways of knowing
and describing the world. Or, perhaps the ultimate achievement of the new epistemolo
gies will be to map the limits of language and knowledge; to chart the embeddedness of
knowledge in structures of (gendered) power-relations" (Sue Curry Jensen, "Is Science
a Man? New Feminist Epistemologies and Reconstructions of Knowledge," Theory and
Societ 19, no. 2 [April 1990]: 246).
58. Bruno Latour, W Have Never Been Mode (Cambridge, Mass. : Harvard Uni
versity Press, 1993), 6; subsequent references to this work in the text wil be cited
there.
59. "What link is there between the work of translation or mediation and that of
purifcation? This is the question on which I should like to shed light. My hypothe
sis -which remains too crude -is that the second has made the frst possible: the
more we frbid ourslves to conceive of hybrids, the more possible their interbreed
ing becomes -such is the paradox of the moerns . . . . The second question has to do
with premoderns, with the other types of culture. My hypothesis -once again too sim
ple -is that by devoting themselves to conceiving of hybrids, the other cultures have
excluded their proliferation. It is this disparity that would expln the Gret Divide be
tween Them-al the other cultures -and Us -the westerners -and would make it
possible faly to solve the insoluble problem of relativism. The third question has to do
with the current crisis: if modernity were so efective in its dul task of separation and
proliferation, why would it weaken itself toay by preventing us fom being truly mod
em? Hence the fnal question, which is also the most diffcult one: if we have stopped
being modern, if we can no longer separate the work of proliferation from the work of
purifcation, what are we going to become? My hypothesis -which, lie the previous
ones, is to coarse -is that we are going to have to slow down, reorient and regulate
the proliferation of monsters by representing their existence offcialy" (ibid., 12).
60. "If an anthropology of the modern world were to exist its task would consist
in describing in the same way how all the branches of our government are organized,
including that of nature and the hard sciences, and in explaining how and why these
branches diverge as well as accounting for the multiple arrangements that bring them
together" (ibid., 14-15). The subtitle of the original French version, which was left
off the Englsh title, is Essai d'anthopologie symitrique (see Bruno Latour, Nou n'avons
jamais iti modernes: Essai d'anthropologie symitrique [Paris: La Decouverte, 1991]).
61. "Because it believes in the total sparation of humans and nonhumans, and
because it simultaneously cancels out this separation, the Constitution has made the
moerns invincible. If you citicize them by sying that nture is a world constructed by
human hands, they wil show you that it is transcendent, that science is a mere interme
diary allowing access to Nature, and that they keep their hands off. If you tell them that
Society is transcendent and that their laws infnitely surpass U they wil tel you that
we ae free and that our destiny is in our own hands. If you oject that they are being
duplicitous, they will show you that they never confuse the Laws of Nature with impre
scriptible human feedom" (Latour, W Have Never Been Modern, 37). I have corrected
a howler of a mistranslation by referring to the French original (Latour, Nous n'avons
jamais iti modernes, 57). In the English text, the third sentence reads, quite incorrectly:
"If you tel them that we are fee and that our destiny is in our own hands, they will tel
you that Society is transcendent and its laws innitely surpass us."
62. Latour further clarifes this paradox by looking at its expression in the world of
knowledge: "Social scientists have for long allowed themselves to denounce the belief
system of ordinary people. They call this belief system 'naturalization.' Ordinary people
imagine that the power of gods, the objctivity of money, the attraction of fashion, the
beauty of art, come from some objective properties intrinsic to the nature of things.
Fortunately, soial scientists know better and they show that the arrow goes in the other
direction, from s.ociety to the objects. Gods, money, fashion and art offer only a surace
fr the projection of our social needs and interests. At lest since Emile Durkheim, such
has been the price of entry into the soiology profession. The difculty, however, is to
reconcile this frm of denunciation wth another one in which the directions of the ar
rows are exactly reversed. Ordinay people, mere social actors, average citizens, believe
they are fee and that they can modify their desires, their motives and their rational
strategies at will . . . But fortunately, soial scientists are standing guard, and they de
nounce, debunk and ridicule this naive belief in the freedom of the human subject and
soiety. This time they use the nature of things -that is the indisputable results of the
sciences -to show how it determines informs and moulds the soft and plable wills of
the poor humans" (Latou, HHave Never Been Modern, 51-53).
63. Again an error in the translation. The English text reads "past perect tense," but
this is a mistranslation. The French text reads passi com posi.
. "[T]he moderns have ben victims of their own success . . . . Their Constitution
could aborb a few counter-examples, a few exceptions -indeed, it thived on them.
But it is helpless when the exceptions proliferate, when the third estate of things and the
Third World join together to invade all its assemblies, en masse . + . . [T
]
he proliferation
of hybrids has sturated the constitutional framework of the moderns" (Latour, HHave
Never Been Modern, 49-51).
65. See Deborah Gold (introduction to "Cross-Fertilization of the Life Course
and Other Theoretical Paradigms," section 3 of The Gerontologist 36, no. 2 [April
1996) : 224): "For the last several decades, sociology has become a discipline of ultra
specialization. Although sociologists may think we are giving our graduate students a
broad sociological education, in truth, by example, we encourage students to narrow
their areas of expertise. Unfortunately, this parochialism mens that many soiologists
are unaware of what is current in specializations not their own. If sociology continues
this approach, we can hardly expet to inspire a 21st century Talcott Parsons or Robert
Meron who could take a broader perspective. Instead, sociologists in the future are
likely to configure their aeas of exertise even more narowly." It is worthy of note that
this peroration was published in a quite specialized joural, The Gerontologist.
66. 'We might even sy that the model of sociologicaly nve actors -d m ra
tional choice and game theoretical models -are misguided for almost all occasions. Our
typifcations and explnations mut involve the continuous interaction of institutionl
ized expectations, perceptions, interpretations, afects, distortions, and behavior" (Neil
Smelser Problematics o Sociolog [Berkeley: University of Califrnia Press, 1997), 27).
67. Wiliam McNeill, Mythistor and Other Essays (Chicago: University of Chicago
Press, 1986).
68. "Historian, the one who knows? No, the one who searches" (Lucien Febvre, "Par
maniere d'introduction," in G. Friedmann, Humanisme du travail et humanites, Cahiers
des Annales 5 [Paris: A. Colin, 1950), v).
69. It seems to me that uncertainty is the esse;tial issue Neil Smelser was addressing
in his 1997 presidential address to the American Sociological Association when he dis
cussed "ambivalence," a term he borrowed from Merton. He discussed it primarily as a
psychological constant in terms of actors' motivations rather than as a structural constant
of the physical world. He does however draw a conclusion with which I heartily agree:
'We might even suggest that ambivalence frces us to reason even more than preferences
do, because conflict maybe a stronger motive for thinking than i s desiren (Neil Smelser,
"The Rational and the Ambivalent in the Social Sciences," American Sociological Review
63, no. 1 [February 1998]: 7).
70. Michel Cazenave, dir Dictionnaire de !'ignorance (Paris: Bibliotheque Sciences
AlbinMichel, 1998).
71. "[The concept of the disenchantment of the world] is paradoxicaly due to the
glorifcation of the earhly world, henceforh worhy of the kind of intellectual pursuit
Aristotle resrved for heaven. Classical sience denied becoming, natural diversity, both
considered by Aristotle attributes of the sublunar, inferior world. In this sense, classical
science brought heaven to earth . . . . The radical change in the outlok of modern sci
ence, the transition toward the temporal, the multiple, may be viewed as the reversal of
the movement that brought Aristotle's heaven to earth. Now we are bringing earth to
heaven" (Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Orde out of Chaos: Man' New Dialogu
with Nature [Boulder, Colo.: New Science Libray, 1984] , 305-6).
Perissions
The University of Minnesota Press and the author gratefully acknowledge
permission to reprint the fllowing essays in this book.
"Uncertainty and Creativity: Premises and Conclusions" was frst published in
American Behavioral Scientist 42, no. 3 (November-December 1 998): 320-22.
Reprinted by permission of Sage Publications, Inc.
Chapter 1, "Social Science and the Communist Interlude, or Interpretations of
Contemporary History," was first published in Polish Sociological Review, no. 1
(1997).
Chapter 2, "The ANC and South Africa: The Past and Future of Liberation
Movements in the World-System," was first published in Economic and Political
Wekl 31, no. 39 (September 28, 1 996).
Chapter 3, "The Rise of East Asia, or The World-System in the Twnty-First
Century," was first published in Captalism and Evolution, edited by M. ltoh et
al. (Cheltenham: Edgar Elgar Publishing, 1999).
The Coda to chapter 3, "The So-called Asian Crisis: Geopolitics in the Logue
Durie, " was frst published in Economia Global e Gestio (1999).
Chapter 4, "States? Sovereignty? The Dilemmas of Capitalists in an Age of
Transition," was frst published in State and Soereignty in the Global Economy,
edited by D. Solinger et al. (London: Routledge, 1999).
Chapter 5, "Ecology and Capitalist Costs of Production: No Exit," was frst
published in Ecology and the WorSystem, edited by W. Goldfrank et al.
(Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press, 1997). Greenwood Press is an imprint
of Greenwood Publishing Group, Inc., Westport, Connecticut.
Chapter 6, "Liberalism and Democracy: Fries Ennemis?" was frst published
in Acta Politica 32, no. 2 (summer 1997).
Chapter 7, "Integration to What? Marginalization fom What?" was first
published in Scandinavian Political Studies 20, no. 4 (1997) .
Chapter 8, "Social Change? Change Is Eternal. Nothing Ever Changes," was
frst presented as the keynote address at the III Poruguese Congress of Sociol-
269
270 PERMI SSI ONS
ogy, Lisbon, February 7, 1996. The theme of the Congress was "Practices and
Processes of Social Change." Copyright Immanuel Wallerstein.
Chapter 9, "Social Science and Contemporary Society: The Vanishing Guar
antees of Rationality," wa first published in Interational Sociology 11, no. 1
(March 1996).
Chapter 10, "Differentiation and Reconstruction in the Social Sciences," was
first presented at Research Council, Interational Sociological Association,
Montreal, August 6, 1997. Copyright Immanuel Wallerstein.
Chapter 11, "Eurocentrism and Its Avatars: The Dilemmas of Social Science,"
was first published in New Le Review, no. 226 (November-December 1997).
Chapter 12, "The Structures of Knowledge, or How Many Ways May We
Know?" was frst published in Wald Views and the Problem o Synhesis (Yellow
Book of Eintein Meets Magritte) (Dordrecht: Kluwer, 1998). Reprinted with
kind permission by Kluwer Academic Publishers.
Chapter 13, "The Rise and Future Demise of World-Systems Analysis," was
first published in Review 21, no. 1 (1998).
Chapter 14, "Social Science and the Qest for a Just Society," wa first pub
lished in American journal o Sociology 102, no. 5 (March 1997). Reprinted
with permission of the University of Chicgo Press. Copyright 1997 by The
University of Chicago. P rights reserved.
Chapter 15, "The Heritage of Sociology, the Promise of Social Science," was
first published in Current Sociology 47, no. 3 (1999). Reprinted with permission
of Sage Publicatons Ltd.
Index
In this index, certain terms that comprise the very subject matter of the entire bok are not
included because they are to be found passim: social science, world-system, historical system,
modern world-system, capitalist world-economy, historical capitalism.
Words ae given in their noun for and include therein their use as adjectives. Names of
countries include the noun for that indicates persons coming from that country. Names
of university subject matters are included insofa as they refer to the subject matter, but do
not include other common uses of the same term. The phrase "economic stagnation" would
not be indexed under "economics. "
Abbasid Caliphate, 138
Abdel-Malek, Anouar, 175, 233-35, 262
accumulation of capital (endless), 21, 30,
32, 35, 48, 58-59, 61-62, 65, 67,
74-75, 78, 81-85, 87-88, 129-30,
139
affrmative action, 114-15
Afghanistan, 254
Africa, 20, 22, 44, 153, 168, 193, 234, 261
African-Americans, 110
African National Congress (ANC),
19-33, 254
Albania, 14, 99
Amazon rain forest, 78
Americas, 35, 47, 58
Anarchists, 151
androcentrism, 239
anthropology, 208-11, 220
antisystemic movements, 23-30, 40,
70-71, 131-32, 150-53, 204. cc mso
Old Left
Arab-Muslim world/civilization, 178-81,
208, 234
area studies, 193
Aristotle, 218, 234, 268
Aron, Raymond, 150
arow of time, 3, 84, 128, 165, 190, 213,
244
Asia, 22, 153, 168, 175, 193, 261-62
Asian-Americans, 110
Asian crisis, 49-56
Asian-Islamic zone, 234
Athens, 78
Augustine, St., 137
Australia, 9
Austro-Hungarian Empire, 12
271
Bacon, Francis, 164, 239
Baku, 12, 14
Balkans, 128
Becker, Jean-Jacques, 111
Belgium, 116
Bentham, Jeremy, 85, 176
Beveridge, Lord William I., 176
bifurcation, 1, 33, 48, 55, 84-85, 126,
132, 191, 237
biological and chemical weapons, 16
biology, 77, 159, 225, 238-40, 246. cc
m so genetics
biophysics, 238
Black Death, 127
Blacks, 116. ccmsoAfrican-Americans
Bolsheviks. cc Sviet Union, Communist
Party of
Booth, Charles, 224
Bosnia, 2, 16, 154
Bourdieu, Pierre, 222
Boyle, Robrt, 264
Braudel, Fernand, 49, 195, 235-36
Brazil, 37, 52, 55
Brittany, 106
Brussels, 116
Buddhism, 137, 174
Burundi, 16
Calvin, John, 203-4
Canada, 9, 110, 116, 258
categorical imperative, 205
Catholicism, Roman, 110, 127-28, 203
Catlin, George E. C., 224
Caucasus, 12
Central America, 125
Central Asia, 234
272 I NDEX
centrism. cc liberalism/liberal reformism
certainty(ies) (end of), 1-4, 24, 27, 29,
32, 75, 120, 147, 204, 236, 243, 245,
248, 250
chemist, 77, 161, 236-38
China, 7, 18, 20, 34, 37, 41-42, 47, 51,
53, 55, 82, 128, 139-40, 178-81, 183,
208, 234-45, 262
China, Communist Party of, 14
Christianity, 2, 138, 174-75. cc mso
Catholicism, Roman; Protestantism
chronosophy, 125, 137
citizenship, 105-17
civilization/civilized world (not 0 civi-
lization), 93-94, 148, 153-54, 169,
172-75, 177, 193, 208, 246
class, social/class struggle, 9, 17, 19, 21,
24, 40, 63, 66-68, 74, 88, 94, 101-2,
108, 114-15, 129, 131, 137, 144, 146,
200, 226-27
Cold Wa, 37, 53, 194
Coleman,James S., 176
colonialism, 13, 41, 44, 104, 173, 179,
212
Comintern. ccInternational, Third
commoity chains, 58-59, 67, 129
Communisms, collapse of the, 1, 43, 49
Communist Manifesto, 7
Communist movements, 41, 44, 97, 112,
153. ccmso Marxism-Leninism
complexity. ccsciences of complexity
Comte, Auguste, 171
confiscation, 62-63, 88
Congress of the Peoples of the East, 12
Connell, R. W ., 224
conservatism, 38, 43, 69, 72, 89, 113, 146,
148-49, 177, 215
Copernicus, 23 7
core zone/countries, 11, 13, 44, 51-52,
88-89, 153
creativity, 1, 130, 166, 217, 237, 250
crisis of the world-system (terminal). cc
transition, age of
Cuba, 7
cultural nationalism, 116
cultural sciences, 173
cultural studies, 188-90, 213, 215-16
culture wars, 158, 183
cyborgs, 241. cc m so hybrids
cycles, cyclical rhythms, 129-30, 133, 244
cycles, hegemonic, 35, 53, 55
cycles, Kondratieff, 35-36, 43-44, 46-47,
50-53, 78-79
Czechoslovakia, 42
"dangerous classes," 22, 41, 69, 107, 132,
144-48, 150
Danton, Georges-Jacques, 200
Darwin, Charles, 237
de Gaulle, Charles, 13
demoratization, 18, 31-32, 48, 74, 79,
87-103, 131, 212
deruralization, 30-31, 47, 74, 79-81
Descartes, Rene, 2, 158, 163, 171, 206
lcscobrimcnros, 127
determinism/free w, 203, 217
determinism/indeterminism, 48, 56, 84,
165, 171, 189, 191, 213-15, 217-18,
237-38, 240, 244, 262
Dias, Bartolemeu, 119
dfferentiation/ specialization, 92, 123-24,
157-67, 247
"divorce" btween philosophy and science.
cc"two cultures"
Du Bois, W. E. B., 41
Durkheim, Emile, 111, 223-26, 229-30,
234, 243, 247, 267
East Asia, 34-56, 79
East Asian Communist states, 46
east-central Europe, 7, 14-15, 43-44, 47
ecological decay/dilemmas, 31, 48, 74,
76-86, 234
ecology movements. ccGreen movements
economic development of underdeveloped
countries, 41, 43, 69
economic histor, 221
economics, 15, 59, 66, 123, 159, 208, 211,
220-21, 262
economists, neoclassical, 59
ecumene, 180-81
egaliberty, 96
Egypt, 20, 180
Einstein, Albert, 213, 241
Ekeland, Iva, 258
Engels, Friedrich, 7, 8, 17
England. cc Great Britain/United
Kingdom
Enlightenment, 2, 10, 92, 120, 122-23,
125, 205
etropy, 188-89, 236
epistemology, 86, 163, 166-68, 175,
189-90, 193-95, 211, 213, 220, 234,
236-37, 240, 243
epistemology, idiographic, 122, 166, 171,
190, 208-10, 245
epistemology, nomothetic, 122, 166, 190,
193, 208-9, 211, 245
Espinas, Georges, 224
Ethiopia, 254
ethnicity/ethnic groups, 17, 95, 108, 112,
115
Euroentrism, 168-84, 233-36
Europe, 40-41, 168-84, 234
Europe, Christian, 128, 137
Europe, medieval, 138, 174, 179
"Europeln miracle," 169
European Union, 46-47
experts/specialists, 45, 69, 92-93, 96, 147,
207
exteraization of costs, 65, 80-81,
83-86, 131
facts, social, 224-26, 229
fscist movements, 212
feminism, 43, 115-16, 238-41, 265
feudalism, crisis of, 127-28, 132-33
1inunciul 1imcs, 49-50, 52, 56 -
Finland, 12
Fitzgerald, Scott, 161
Flexner, Abraham, 224
fying geese, 55
Foucault, Michel, 222
Fou Dragons, 34, 52-53, 55. cc ulso
Hong Kong; Korea, South; Singapore;
Taiwan
France, 13, 19, 22, 42, 99, 123, 145, 168,
173, 218
France, French Revolution, 8, 19, 38-40,
68, 70, 88-89, 91, 106, 111, 122, 145,
171, 206, 215, 219
France, French Revolution, social
interpretation of, 171
Frank, Andre Gunder, 195
., fee market, 61-64, 88
Freud, Sigmund, 148-54, 229-33, 237
Friedman, Milton, 61
Front National, 101-2
fundamentalist movements, 45
Gandh Mohandas K. , 21, 174
Geertz, Clifford, 233
Gemeinschaft/Gesellschaft, 157
I NDEX 273
gender, 108,
201, 226, 238-41,
243
general education, 196
genetics, 262
geoulture of the world-system, 1, 8, 39,
69, 73, 147, 168, 183
Germany,
12-13, 38, 42,
53, 110, 114,
168, 218
Germany, Social-Democratic Paty, 9
Gerschenkron, Alexander,
5
4
Girondins, 89
global/local, 202, 212, 217
globality, 195-96
globalization, 59, 72-74, 195-96
Goode, William J., 259
grace, negative, 204
Gramsci, Antonio, 137, 144, 154
Great Britain/United Kingdom, 19, 53,
55, 123, 168, 215
Greece, 14, 20, 174, 234
Greece, Communist Party of, 14
Green movements, 43, 76-77, 183
gulags, 212
Gulbenkian Commission, 185
Gulf War, 37
Gurvitch, Georges, 263
Gutenbrg revolution, 127
Haiti, 20
Hapsburgs, 62, 106
Haraway, Donna ]., 238-41
Harding, Sandra, 241
Harding, Waren, 16
hegemony, U.S., 21, 53
Heraclitus, 125
Hinduism, 21
historicity, 195-96
historiography, 169-71, 207
history, 22, 145, 159, 171, 193, 196,
207-11, 220-21
holism, 195-97
Hopkins, Terence K., 251
households, income-pooling, 129
humanities, 158, 173, 183, 186-90, 196,
199, 206-8, 213, 215-16
Hunga, 20
Hussein, Saddam, 17, 49
Hybrids, 241-43
identity movements, 43, 115
ideology, 37-38. cc ulso conservatism;
libralism/liberal reformism; and
radicalism / socialism
274 I NDEX
idiographic epistemology. cc
epistemology, idiographic
India (Indians, Hindus), 18, 42, 174-75,
178-79, 181, 208, 234
Indian National Congress, 21, 254
Indian Ocean, 119
Inda-Aryan civilization, 234-35
Indonesia, 53
information revolution, 59
infastructure, 6 4
integration, 104-17
interdisciplinarity. ccmultidisciplinarity
International, Second, 22
International, Third, 11, 13, 22
International Monetary Fund (IMF), 50,
53, 56, 72
International Sociological Association,
158-61
interstate system/states system, 59-61,
66-67, 74, 106, 108, 117, 129, 193
Ireland, 20, 78
Islam, 2, 21, 110
Israel, 174
Italy, 20, 42, 61, 106, 168, 254
Jacobins, 89, 111
Japan, 37-38, 41-42, 46-47, 50-51,
53-55, 110, 114, 174, 178, 234
Japan, Meiji Revolution, 37
Judaism, 2, 110
Judea-Christian heritage, 110
Kant, Immanuel, 205
Kaufman, Henry, 73
Keats, John, 215
Keller, Evelyn Fox, 238-40
Keynesianism (military), 2, 37, 52
Kissinger, Henry J., 53, 56
knowledge, structures of/world of
knowledge, 86, 101, 150, 158, 163-64,
167, 182, 185-91
Kondratief, Nikolai. cc cycles,
Kondratief
Korea, North/D. P. Republic of, 7
Korea, South/Republic of (Koreans), 37,
52, 55, 114
Korean Wa, 37
Kriegel, Annie, 111
Kuwait, 38
Lacombe, Paul, 235
Lane, Frederic, 62
Laos, 7
Laplace, Pierre-Simon, Marquis de, 206
Latin America, 22, 44, 153, 193, 234, 261
Latinos, 110
Latour, Bruno, 241-43
League of Nations, 13
left, political. ccradicalism/socialism
legitimation, 227-29
Lenin, Vadimir I. , 10-11, 26, 66
lqm:u/ton, 97, 99
Lerda, Juan Carlos, 72
Levi-Strauss, Claude, 235
Leyden, 106
liberalism, global, 70
liberalism, triumph of, 1
liberalism/liberal refrmism, 38, 43, 69,
72-73, 87-103, 107, 114, 123, 146-47,
149, 153-54, 212, 215
liberal state, 9, 18, 66
literature, 122, 207
lon_c durc, 235-36, 244
Los Angeles, 78, 154
Machiavelli, 158
macro/micro, 202, 212, 217
Maddox, Sir John, 236
mafoso groups, 72
Mahathir bin Mohamed, 174
Maine, Henry, 175
Maaysia, 53, 174
Manchus, 128, 133
Maoisms, 43
Mao Zedong, 14
Macuse, Herbert, 158
maginalization, 104-17
marginal utility, 144
Marshall, Alfed, 59
Marx, Karl, 7-8, 17, 130, 139, 150, 171,
223-24, 226-27, 229-30, 234, 243
Maxism, 9, 137, 151, 154, 178, 223, 226
Marxism-Leninism, 7, 13-15
Mayas, 125
May Fourth movement, 176
McNeill, William H., 244
mechanics (dynamic systems in), 3, 141,
188, 236
meritocracy, 94-95
Merton, Robert K., 267
1c/hodcn:/rct/, 122, 166, 190, 208-9
methodological individualism, 225
metaphysics, 155, 207
Mexico, 20, 37, 42, 52
Michels, Roberto, 152
Middle East, +
migration (migrants), 17, 80, 99, 106,
109-10
Milton, John, 204
Ming dynasty, 128, 133
moderity, 125, 138-44, 178-79, 194,
241-43, 262
modernization theory, 193-95, 197
Mongols, 128
monopolies, state guarantee of, 32, 63 -65,
74, 88, 106
Montesquieu, Charles Louis Secondat,
Baron, 158
Moscow, 7
multiculturalism, 97, 99, 175
multidisciplinarity, 159, 196, 246
Muslims. cc Islam
m ythistory, 244
Napoleon, 88-89, 145, 206
nationalism/national identity, 9, 40, 69,
107-8, 147
national liberation movements/nationalist
movements, 19-33, 41, 44, 112, 150,
153
Needham, Joseph, 139, 172, 183
neofascist movements, 44
neoliberalism, 43, 50, 56, 97
Netherlands, 218. cc mto United
Provinces
New Economic Policy (NEP), 26
New Left, 43
newly industrializing countries (NICs),
37, 52
New Monarchies, 106
Newton, Isaac, 2-3, 84, 92, 121, 141, 164,
166-6 171, 188-89, 206, 21 215,
235 -37, 241
Ne Yor4 1tmc:, 73
New Zealand, 9
Nixon, Richard M., 14
Nkrumah, Kwame, 20
Nomenklatura, 15, 27
nomothetic epistemology. cc
epistemology, nomothetic
nonalignment, 194
"North," 17, 47, 77, 82, 265. ccmvcore
zones/states
North America, 19, 40, 44, 51, 69, 168,
193, 234
Occam's razor, 213
Oceania, 58, 234
Oder River, 153
I NDEX 275
Old Left, 39, 41-44, 48, 97-98, 112,
131, 215-16. cc mso Commu-
nist movements; national liberation
movements/nationaist movements;
social-democratic/labor movements/
parties
Organization of Petroleum Exporting
States (OPEC), 51-52
Orientalism, 169, 175-76, 208-10
Orwell, George, 158
Ottoman Empire, 12, 35, 58, 128, 254
Pareto, Vilfredo, 223
Paris, 78, 106
Parsons, Talcott, 221, 223, 226, 267
Pasternak, Boris, 8, 253
periphery/non-core zones, 11, 40, 52, 54,
82, 153
Persia, 20, 234, 254
Peru, 20
phenomenology, 225
Philippines, 53
philosophy, 86, 120, 122-23, 138-39, 155,
158, 164, 167, 171, 176, 183, 186-88,
190, 202, 205-8, 211-12, 216, 219,
243, 245-46
physics, 166, 188, 190, 205-6, 237-39,
246
Plato, 218
Poland, 12, 20, 42
polarization (of world-system), 1-2,
16-17, 43, 53, 56, 58, 68, 97, 99, 117,
158, 212
political economy, 53, 76, 82-83, 85, 158,
199, 215, 258
political science, 123, 193, 208, 211, 221
Pomian, Krzysztof, 125
populism/populist movements, 44, 95-96,
107, 153
Portugal, 118-19, 123
positivism, 163
postmodernism, 122-23, 163, 198, 225,
'
33, 241-43
Prigogine, llya, 2, 130, 165-66, 217-18,
236-38, 249
probability, 166, 191, 236-37
profts squeeze, 7 5, 81
progress, 120, 176-77, 181
protection rent, 62, 106
276 I NDEX
Protestantism, 110
psychoanalysis, 148-54, 230, 232
psychology, 225, 247
Qiebec, 116
race/racism/racist nationalism, 22, 40,
69-70, 90, 108, 113-15, 201, 212, 226
radicalism/socialism, 38, 69, 72, 89,
111, 146, 148-49, 177. cc ul:o
Communist movements; Interational,
Second; International, Third; social
democratic/labor movements/parties
rainbow coalition, 116
Rand, Ayn, 61
Ranke, Leopold von, 207
Rapallo, 13
Rassemblement pour la Republique
(RPR), 102
rationality, 92-93, 120-21, 137-57, 165,
228-33, 237, 243, 263
rationality, substantive, 2, 84-86, 101,
141-44, 154-56, 191, 200, 233
Reagan, Ronald, 52
redistribution. ccwelfare state
reenchantment of the world, 249, 268
Refrmation, Protestant, 127, 203
Renaissance, 127, 172, 174
revolutionary organizations. cc
antisystemic movements
Rhineland, 106
Ricker, Heinrich, 173
right, political. cc conservatism
Roman Empire, 125, 174, 234
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 146
Royal Society of London, 140
Russia (Empire, USSR, Republic), 12-15,
18, 35, 41-44, 47, 53, 58, 72, 194
Russia, Great October Revolution, 7, 11
Rwanda, 2, 16
Said, Edward, 175, 233
Saudi Arabia, 38
Schrodinger, Erwin, 262
Schumpeter, Joseph A. , 66
science (modern /Baconian-Cartesian
Newtonian), 2-3, 83-84, 86, 92,
120-22, 130, 139-41, 149, 155, 158,
164-67, 171-72, 177, 181, 183, 185-
90, 196, 199, 202, 204-8, 211, 213,
215-19, 237, 239, 243, 245, 247, 250.
ccul:o sciences of complexity
sciences of complexity, 84-85, 165 -66,
188-90, 213, 216, 218, 243, 263
science wars, 158, 183
secularization, 2, 151, 173, 175, 186, 205
secular trends, 130, 133
self-determination of nations, 41, 69
semiperipher, 11, 54
Senegal, 42
sexism, 113-14, 212
Shapin, Steven, 140
Shiva, Vandana, 239-40
Simmel, Georg, 224
Singapore, 52
Smelser, Neil J., 243-44, 267
Smith, Adam, 65-66, 180
social confict, 226-27, 229
social constructionism, 240
social-democratic/labor move-
ments/parties, 44, 97, 112, 150-51,
153
socialism. ccradicalism/socialism
social physics, 121, 235
social psychology, 225
social science history, 196
sociobiology/bioculture, 113, 115
sociology, 30, 122-23, 125, 141, 145,
148, 150, 152, 157-59, 161, 163-64,
192-93, 199, 208, 211, 220, 251, 258
sociology, culture of, 220-68
Skal, Alan, 101
solipsism, 244
SOS-Racisme, 102
"South," 17, 19-20, 22, 47-48, 51, 77, 82,
192-93, 265. ccul:o periphery/non
core zones; semipriphery
South Africa, 19-20, 29
South Asia, 37, 44, 58. ccul:o India
Southeast Asia, 34, 47, 51-53, 55, 58, 79,
234
southern Africa, 22
sovereignty of people, 88, 91
sovereignty/sovereign states, 57-75, 105,
115, 121
Sviet Union, Communist Party of, 7, 10,
12-13, 15
Spain, 20
Spencer, Herbert, 122, 171
Spinoza, Benedict, 158
stage theory of development, 171-72, 176,
178, 193-94
Stalin, Joseph, 14
states, anti-statism, 39, 45, 132, 153
states, fscal crisis of, 32
states, legitimacy of, 32-33, 67-69, 72
states, nightwatchman state, 61
states, state-building, 105-6
states, taxation, 63, 81, 88
status-groups, 226
Stengers, Isabelle, 249
structure/agency, 202, 212, 217
sufrage, 9-10, 40-41, 69, 90, 92, 107-8,
147
Switzerland, 116
symbolic interactionism, 225
Taiwan, 37, 52
T'ang dynasty, 138
Tawey, R. H. , 70
Thailand, 53, 55
theology, 2-3, 186-87, 202-3, 205, 217,
245
Third World countries. cc"South"
Thirty Years' Wa, 53, 106
Thomas, W. I., 224
Tienanmen, 176
. time-reversibility, 3, 66, 171-72, 215, 237,
262-63
time of troubles. cctransition, age of
Tonnies, Ferdinand, 224
transition, age of, 1, 47, 55, 57-75, 130,
132
Tunisia, 42
Turkey, 20, 55, 114, 254
"two cutures," 86, 112, 183, 186-88, 190,
206, 211-13, 216, 243, 249
two-stage strategy, 20, 25. cc mso
antisystemic movements; Old Lft
Ukraine, I
uncertainty(ies). cccertainty(ies) (end of)
unemployment, 51
unidisciplinaity, 195-96
Union of Sviet Socialist Republics
(USSR). cc Russia
Union pour la Democratie Franaise
(UDF), 102
United Kingdom. cc Great
Britain/United Kingdom
United Nations (U), 13
United Provinces, 55
United States, American Revolution, 19
I NDEX 277
United States (of America), 13, 19, 37,
42, 46-47, 50-51, 53, 55, 110, 168,
175, 192, 194
universalism, 95, 169, 171-72, 182, 184,
190, 193, 211, 233-34, 244-45, 261
utopistics, 217
value, law of. cc accumulation of capital
(endless)
vaue-free/value-neutral scholarship, 166,
207, 210
Venezuela, 53
Verein Szialpolitik, 176
Vietnam, 7, 53
Vitrolles, 102
Voltaire (Frarois-Marie Arouet), 145
Webr, Max, 2, 67, 101, 139, 141-44,
223-24, 228-30, 234, 243, 258
welfae state, 9, 40-41, 69, 90, 97, 107-8,
147
West, rise of, 129
West Africa, 58
western Europe, 37, 44, 51, 60, 69, 102,
128, 140, 145, 168, 179, 193
Westphalia, Peace of, 61, 106
Whig interpretation of history, 172
White man's burden, 265
Whites, 102, 117
Wilson, Edward 0. , 239
Wilson, Woorow, 13
women's groups. ccfeminism
Wordsworth, William, 215, 219
world revolution of 1848, 151
world revolution of 1968, 43, 71, 89, 113,
153, 192, 215
world-systems analysis, 192-201
World Wa, First, 12, 20, 97, 111
World Wa, Second, 13-14, 21, 41, 97,
112, 176
Wundt, Wilhelm, 224
Hmrun_cn, 127
Yalta, 261
Yalu River, 153
Yeats, William Butler, 99
Yeres, Robrt M., 239
Yug
slavia, 14
Zhivago, Dr., 8, 253
1mmanuc Vacrstcn is Distinguished Professor of Sociology and
director of the Fernand Braudel Center for the Study of Economies,
Historical Systems, and Civilizations at Binghamton University. He
i s the author of, among many other titles, The Modern World-System
(3 vols. ); The Capitalist World-Economy; Historical Capitalism, with Cp
italist Civilization; The Politics o the Word-Economy: The States, the
Moements, and the Civilizations; Afica and the Modern World; Race,
Nation, Class: Ambiguous Identities (with Etienne Balibar); Geopolitics
and Geoculture: Essays the Changing Word-System; Unthinking Social
Science: The Limits o Nineteenth-Century Paradigms; After Liberlism;
Open the Social Sciences: Report o the Gulbenkian Commission the Re
structuring o the Social Sciences (with others); and Utopistics, or Historical
Choices fr the Twenty-First Century.

Immanuel Wallerstein, The End of The World As We Know It: Social Science For The Twenty First Century

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MttPL L Mt VLHLL

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