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W.G. Runciman: The
Social Animal
(Harper Collins: 1998)
“Sociology is
the study of people in their roles, and to study people
in their roles is to study how and why power is distributed
and exercised.... Whatever the group, community, institution
or society to which you and I both belong, if more power
attaches to your role than mine there are three forms
which the exercise of that power can take. Your power
over me can be economic - that is, your role enables you
either to endow me with, or deprive me of, wealth or income
in money, services or goods; or it can be ideological
- that is, your role enables you either to bestow on me,
or take away from me, social esteem, honour or prestige;
or it can be coercive - that is, your role enables you
either to bring to bear on me, or protect me from, the
exercise of physical force. From this, it follows that
all societies have what can conveniently be called their
modes of production, persuasion and coercion - that is,
their distinctive ways of distributing and exercising
economic, ideological and coercive power.... [Furthermore,
no type of power is] any more fundamental or decisive
than the other two. Different sociologists, including
not least Marx, Weber and Durkheim, have given different
priority in their writings to each of them - Marx to the
economic, Weber to the coercive, and Durkheim to the ideological.
But it’s not a question to be decided a priori .
In some societies it’s one, and in others another....
But, to grasp the institutional workings of the particular
society, let alone to explain why it has evolved as it
has, you will always need to analyse the relation between
the three.”
(Runciman, pp.64-9)
To those who too easily dismiss sociology as a playpen
for ideologues and those excessively narrow researchers
intent on reinventing common-sense’s wheels, W.G.
Runciman will come as a distinct (and bracing) shock.
Because, not only is this remarkable book eminently readable
- no socsci speak here - it is also, by far, the clearest
and most insightful analysis extant of exactly what constitutes
sociological thinking, why it is both important and useful,
and how we should understand its key concepts, such as
power - analysed above, and contrasted with a somewhat
less useful approach below:
“One of the most
reliable findings which comes out of research into what
sociologists sometimes call ‘subjective stratification’
is that people are woefully ignorant about how power actually
is exercised and distributed among the roles of which
their societies consist. What’s more, it’s
often the people at the top, who might be thought to know
better, who have even less realistic views than the people
at the bottom who suffer directly from the exercise of
the power attaching to the roles of the people at the
top: the Persian King Ardeshir, who lumped all ‘cultivators,
menials etc.’ into a single omnibus systact out
of the four into which he divided his society, carefully
ranked ‘religious leaders and guardians of the fire
temples’ in the second, and ‘physicians, scribes,
and astrologers’ in the third.”
(Runciman, p.79)
And, if you think Runciman rather tough on King Ardeshir,
be warned...his most cutting critiques are reserved for
those he terms “Attitude-Merchants” and “Platitude-Merchants”
amongst his fellow sociologists - a very useful pair of
categories I have found re many disciplines with little
or no useful work to show for their myriad publications.
What’s more, he offers us perhaps the most succinct
full argument I’ve ever seen against theoretical
reification, or - at least - the best since Francis Bacon:
“Since some explanatory
theories stand up very much better than others to attempted
refutation, there can’t be much harm in encapsulating
their distinctiveness in a word coined for the purpose.
All the same, however, there are two good reasons to be
very, very careful about doing so. The first reason is
that the theory risks becoming not a sense of propositions
held to be true, but a set of doctrines held to be sacrosanct
- or, to put it in terms which go back to Francis Bacon
in the seventeenth century, that its adherents become
less concerned to have their errors corrected than their
doubts removed.... The second reason is that the theory
in question risks being thought to account for a much
wider range of observations than in fact it can.... It’s
as much to be expected that people who come up with good
original ideas should claim too much for them, as it is
that their disciples should then elevate them into an
inviolable orthodoxy. But, that’s not the most promising
way to advance the cause of scientific discovery.... There
are [also] two further dangers, which aren’t so
much mistakes as misconceptions, and which account for
much of the bad press which sociology receives.... The
first danger is to suppose that a favoured proposition
about human social behaviour is new and true, when it
is merely new; the second is to suppose that a favoured
proposition about human social behaviour is new and true,
when it is merely true.”
(Runciman, pp.55-7)
Still, the real substance herein goes far beyond such
useful - and amusingly damning - critiques. Instead, it
lies in his clear - and rigourously exact - analyses of
just what good sociologists do, how & why they do
it, and (most remarkably) the mindset which underlies
this discipline...
“Explanation,
in sociology or elsewhere, can mean several different
things. Why [for example]...do I shake hands with you
when I’m introduced to you? Because I don’t
wish to seem impolite, because that’s how I was
brought up, because it strengthens ties in our community,
because a mutual friend decided that we should meet, because
in our culture that’s what we do instead of rubbing
noses, or because in ruder and more violent times the
symbolic meaning of a handshake was that neither of us
held weapons in our hands? That isn’t even an exhaustive
list. But for the practising sociologist, the important
distinction is the threefold one between genetic ,
motivational ,
and functional
explanations. This difference does not, let me emphasize,
correspond to the difference between evoked, acquired
and imposed behaviour: explanations of each kind can be
sought for all three. But sociologists are, typically,
more likely both to be studying imposed behaviour and
to be looking for functional explanations.”
(Runciman, p.37)
“There are a few
crude maxims which sociologists will on the whole be well
advised to follow. First: don't listen to the rhetoric,
look at the roles. Second: don't stay with the people,
follow the practices. And third: don't get hung
up on who did what when to whom, but spot what it is
in the environment in which they did it that explains
why they did it as they did.”
(Runciman, p.153)
Here, in a nutshell, is the mindset of sociology - the
cluster of insights which make up what C. Wright Mills
called the sociological imagination. It is pre-theoretical
in a way, although such a perspective could only come
out of a history of theory building along such lines.
For, as you can see, this is not our normal way of thinking
about human groupings.
What such a perspective focuses on are the strong regularities
in human behaviour in groups, conceptualised in an abstract
fashion. To a sociologist, the roles we both perform and
occupy in our social lives, made up of practices, are
the key to explaining such regularities. For while we
are much freer in our specific choices, our nature as
highly social animals requires regularities in our interactions
- and these are provided by roles and practices which
tend to be taken for granted. We could have done things
differently. The social insects - the only other highly
social species - solved the regularity problem through
the biological specialization of subgroups. However,
ours is a much more flexible system. Still, as Runciman
notes below, it is not infinitely so. Roles have to work
together, and the groupings concerned have to add up to
an economically viable, ideologically compelling society
which effectively domesticates and channels coercive power.
These things are all matters of degree - some societies
are better than others at some things - and it is possible
for isolated societies to continue even where all of these
things are poorly done. Yet the basic point stands.
“It’s because
individually different people are, on the whole, consistent
performers of their roles in their different cultures
and societies that their social behaviour is as explicable
as it is by the sociologists and anthropologists who study
them. Warlords behave like warlords, soldiers behave like
soldiers, big-men behave like big-men, paramounts behave
like paramounts, presidents behave like presidents. But
to point this out is to restate a paradox in the same
breath as the platitude - the paradox being that our social
behaviour is as reliably patterned as our individual behaviour
is unmanageably diverse. Not only is the future course
of social evolution unpredictable, but the particular
decisions and consequent actions of different people in
their roles are only possible to forecast either in very
broad terms or under very restricted conditions....[But]
the differences between people don’t undermine the
consistencies between roles. However weird and wacky we
may be in the conduct of our private lives, once we are
out there acting socially as members of groups, communities,
institutions and societies we are much more likely than
not to adhere to the good old maxim of doing, when in
Rome, what the Romans do.... What’s more...it has
also been shown that people don’t....want to face
up to just how conformist we are: we systematically underestimate
the strength of the external pressures to which we yield
in our apparently spontaneous decisions about how to behave
in company. The choice may be in the individual mind,
but the power is in the social group.”
(Runciman, pp.88-90)
“At any given
level of population, technology and resources, there are
not that many different ways in which economic,
ideological and coercive power can be distributed and
exercised…. However different from one another the
individual people who make up a group, community,
institution or society of one kind or another, their relationships
to one another in their roles will conform to practices
whose replication their environment will explain.”
(Runciman, p.152)
“How many ways
can you think of in which a large, prosperous, literate,
but still pre-industrial society's dependent labor
force might be organized? There are slavery, serfdom,
peonage, wage-labour, forced labour, tenancy, sharecropping,
free peasant production, domestic out-work, and ritual
exchange between higher-and lower-ranked castes - but
what else? Likewise, in the mode of persuasion,
you can have ranking by age-sets, a ritual hierarchy of
purity and pollution, hereditary status groups, graded
according to ethnicity, gender, locality, religion, or
ancestry itself, functional attribution of prestige according
to the value conventionally assigned to occupational
roles, or a charismatic ranking according to individual
personality and achievement - but what else? And
in the mode of coercion, you can have mercenaries,
professionals, conscripts, a volunteer militia, a servile
political and military apparatus, or a decentralization
of sovereignty among local magnates and their retainers
- but what else? Numerous variations and combinations
are possible, and there is always scope for quibbling
about definitions of particular roles. But they are variations
and combinations derived from a menu of alternative practices
which is far from unmanageably long and far from bafflingly
strange.”
(Runciman, p.119)
The sociological outlook, however, is profoundly anti-intuitive.
We tend to look first to intentions in explaining actions,
rather than emphasizing context. We take for granted our
facility in fitting into social roles, and while we might
want to change them, if we're honest with ourselves, we'll
admit that there's no conceivable replacement. After all,
even genuinely antinomian groupings - such as some of
the more extreme romantics, or elements of sixties countercultures
- quickly develop strong alternative behavioural constraints
- even though their explicit ideology calls for their
abolition. But, to my mind, the point is best made by
one of Runciman’s numerous historical examples...for
the genuine depth of his historical knowledge is yet another
thing that sets him apart from most in his discipline.
“Two large, literate,
prosperous agrarian societies which are quite remarkably
alike, despite being many hundreds of years and miles
apart in time and place, are England in the tenth century
AD and Babylonia in the eighteenth century BC. An Anglo-Saxon
king, bishop, landowner, merchant, peasant, craftsman,
soldier, priest, clerk, tax-collector, schoolteacher,
servant or slave would be immediately at home in Hammurapi’s
Babylonia, and vice versa. In both societies, there were
royal and ecclesiastical estates side by side with private
landholdings, taxes paid to the king as well as dues to
the church or temple, private capitalists engaged in long-distance
trade for profit, an active land market, tenancy and serfdom
as well as slavery and the possibility of manumission
for debt slaves, written law codes, local agents of royal
power liable for military or auxiliary service, administration
of justice at village level, and for women, subordinate
though they generally were, a right to retain a dowry
and bequeath it in due course to a child or children.
None of this adds up to some impressively lawlike generalization
about how all ‘agrarian’ societies function.
But it does add up to a clear demonstration of the extent
to which similar role-maps reflect similar environments
and similar selective pressures acting on the practices
by which the roles are defined.”
(Runciman, p.120)
While much of the history of sociology has been dominated
by theories specifically tailored to modern societies
- and then overgeneralized, or elaborated into a crude
evolutionary framework - this is in no way inevitable.
The importance of roles, practices and contexts, as I
stated earlier, is in important ways pre-theoretical -
and is of sufficient abstraction to allow its use in all
groupings from a hunter-gatherer band to a modern nation.
Moreover, in recent years there has been a shift away
from the anti-historical bias which characterized the
discipline, and a reassessment of the role evolutionary
ideas can play in the discipline. And, to my mind, Runciman
is the key figure here. As reviewers have noted, his command
of the historical record for comparative purposes is
outstanding - taking in anthropology, ancient history,
and all the diversity of current social forms. Perhaps
equally important is his rehabilitation of evolutionary
ideas - shorn of their progressivist accretions - and
applied to changes in practices. This is worth expanding
upon.
Runciman's insight is that the basic evolutionary process
- descent with modification - can well apply to social
practices. Unlike some other attempts to apply this approach
in the cultural realm - Richard Dawkins' ill-conceived
"memes" in particular - practices offer both the basic
stability required for evolutionary processes to function,
and relatively straightforward definition. By focusing
- as in Darwinian theory - upon the conditions surrounding
the reproduction of practices, this approach offers an
important addition to sociology, which has always had
difficulty with change, and frequently tended towards
a structure-dominated static mode of thought.
“Since all new
forms of human social behaviour have evolved in one way
or another out of old ones, the process which has brought
about any particular form of it is by definition a selective
process: to a sociologist, history is not just one damn
thing after another, but one damn thing instead of another....
And, at the social level...the objects of selection are...units
of reciprocal
action, since the rules which define the roles we occupy
and perform are prescriptive for both
parties to the relationship to which they attach a common
meaning. The objects of social selection, therefore, are
and can only be the practices which define their respective
roles.”
(Runciman, pp.11-12)
“[There are] all
sorts of different ways in which practices whose environment
might seem to have turned against them can re-emerge,
recombine, mutate or be diffused across both social and
geographical space with what may be unexpectedly long-lasting
effects on the society’s role-map. There are no
convenient generalizations.”
(Runciman, p.153)
And so, as Runciman argues, sociology is inescapably non-predictive.
The subject matter is just too intractable. We need to
understand what works - not by a priori reasoning, but
by going to the evidence in each case...that is, by abandoning
unrealistic attempts to model practice on the laboratory
sciences, and accepting sociology’s proper kinship
(and complementary status) with history itself. Nonetheless,
this does not mean abandoning those exact tools which
have proven worthwhile...nor does it mean falling into
the trap of relativistic postmodernism, which Runciman
is characteristically scathing about...
“Yes, I know.
There are lies, damned lies, and statistics. But a statistic,
like a gun, is as good or bad as the person who uses it.
Properly applied, statistical theory is an extraordinarily
powerful instrument in the hands of natural and social
sciences alike. I say ‘extraordinarily’ because
much of what it teaches us is at odds (no pun intended)
with what passes for common sense, [and]...it’s
still remarkable how much information can confidently
be extrapolated from how little data. Most people have
little or no grasp of probability theory, [and] little
capacity for the rational estimation of risk.”
(Runciman, p.99)
“Relativism is
a problem in philosophy - or, more strictly, in epistemology
- rather than anthropology and sociology. The reason is
simple. Any practising anthropologist or sociologist who
takes epistemological relativism seriously has no option
but to quit work. It’s one thing to recognize that
‘our’ beliefs and values are not inherently
privileged over ‘theirs’, but quite another
to conclude that ‘we’ can therefore never
make meaningful judgements of any kind about ‘them’.
What’s the point of going out to do fieldwork among
either the Balinese or the North Americans if all you’re
going to be able to come back with is an arbitrary description
in untranslatable terms of their unreachable ideas about
their illusory culture?”
(Runciman, pp.32-3)
“As a species,
we are not only a compulsively social but a compulsively
self-justifying animal, and the autobiographies of politicians
need to be checked for their veracity and lack of misleading
insinuations and omissions no less carefully than those
of philosophers do (Bertrand Russell’s is a classic
in this regard. But the disjunction between what it felt
like to be an autobiographer at the time, and how it is
going to be explained by revisionist professors fifty
years after the autobiographer’s death, is not a
reason to question that that was what it felt like....
[And] the discrepancy doesn’t of itself make it
any more difficult to arrive at an authentic description
or a valid explanation - or both. On the contrary, understanding
the delusions of grandeur that led to the downfall of
Croesus or Louis Napoleon or Margaret Thatcher may make
the causes of it all the easier to see.”
(Runciman, p.36)
W.G. Runciman’s The
Social Animal is arguably both the best introduction
to/critique of sociology as it stands today, and a startlingly
clear blueprint for how it could best reform itself to
build upon its strengths and minimize its (undoubted)
weaknesses. By concentrating upon the underlying mindset
involved - and clarifying the questions/concepts which
flow from this - Runciman has done all of us a great service...particularly,
perhaps, those (like myself) who had been far too willing
to dismiss sociology for its truly rotten prose style,
and lack of clarity about exactly what its task was. Because,
make no mistake...neither of these faults are at all in
evidence here. In fact, I’d argue that this book
sets a benchmark that no other general/methodological
work in the human sciences has yet equalled. But, we could
badly do with some serious attempts to match its tough-minded
clarity of thought, and expression...
“At the risk of
sounding as tedious as any Platitude-Merchant, as opinionated
as any Attitude-Merchant, and as priggish as any Eminent
Victorian, I venture to suggest that the study of sociology,
by showing us just what kind of social animal we are,
can help to disabuse us of the more complacent illusions
we might otherwise be tempted to indulge about ourselves.
As Pope said about wisdom in general, ‘Tis but to
know how little can be known, To see all others’
faults and feel one’s own’. This may seem
an odd thing for me to say in view of the unblushing arrogance
with which any number of sociologists have foisted their
convictions and prescriptions on their readers.... But,
the more we learn about ourselves as social animals, the
less we find to be vain about.”
(Runciman, p.209)
John
Henry Calvinist
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