dreams of pure sociology

Dreams of Pure Sociology*

Donald Black

University of Virginia

Unlike older sciences such as physics and biology, sociology has never had a revolu-tion. Modern sociology is still classical—largely psychological, teleological, andindividualistic—and even less scientific than classical sociology. Butpure sociologyisdifferent: It predicts and explains the behavior of social life with its location and direc-tion in social space—its geometry. Here I illustrate pure sociology with formulationsabout the behavior of ideas, including a theory of scienticity that predicts and explainsthe degree to which an idea is likely to be scientific (testable, general, simple, valid, andoriginal). For example:Scienticity is a curvilinear function of social distance from thesubject.This formulation explains numerous facts about the history and practice ofscience, such as why some sciences evolved earlier and faster than others and why somuch sociology is so unscientific. Because scientific theory is the most scientific sci-ence, the theory of scienticity also implies a theory of theory and a methodology for thedevelopment of theory.

The history of science is partly a history of revolutions~see, e.g., Kuhn 1962; Hacking1981; Cohen 1985!.1 Historian Thomas Kuhn suggests that a scientific revolution over-throws and replaces the prevailing “paradigm” in a field of science—its strategy of expla-nation~1962: 10–11; see also generally Chapters 2, 10!. A new paradigm implies a newconception of reality and a new logic by which reality is understood~idem: 110; see alsoBlack 1995: 864–867!. Examples are the Copernican revolution that overthrew the earth-centered universe, the Darwinian revolution that overthrew the immutability of plants andanimals, and the Einsteinian revolution that overthrew the absolute nature of space andtime.2 The period before a scientific revolution is sometimes known as the classical eraof a science. Classical physics, for example, refers to physics before relativity theory

*Prepared for a session entitled “Where Do Theories Come From?” at the annual meeting of the AmericanSociological Association, San Francisco, California, August 24, 1998. The session was part of a Theory SectionMiniconference on “Methods of Theoretical Work.” I presented other versions to the Department of Sociology,Texas A & M University, College Station, Texas, March 26, 1998; the Justice Studies Program, University ofNew Hampshire, Durham, New Hampshire, May 7, 1998; the Department of Sociology, Rutgers University, NewBrunswick, New Jersey, October 14, 1998; the International Sociological Association Research Committee onthe Sociology of Law, World Congress of the Sociology of Law, Warsaw University, Warsaw, Poland, July 16,1999, and Jagiellonian University, Krakow, Poland, July 17, 1999. For comments on earlier drafts I thank M. P.Baumgartner, Albert Bergesen, Thomas J. Bernard, Mark Cooney, Murray S. Davis, Ellis Godard, Marcus Mah-mood, Calvin Morrill, Roberta Senechal de la Roche, Christopher Stevens, Frank J. Sulloway, James Tucker, andJonathan Turner. Please address correspondence to the author at the Department of Sociology, Cabell Hall,University of Virginia, Charlottesville, VA 22903. [email protected]

1Philosopher Karl Popper comments that new theories ideally “overthrow” past theories of the same subject:“In this sense, progress in science—or at least striking progress—is always revolutionary”~1975: 93–94!.

2Kuhn proposes that a scientific revolution becomes a possibility when an old paradigm—“normal science”—encounters facts it cannot explain. Such “anomalies” pose a “crisis” that may ultimately be resolved by a revo-lutionary paradigm~1962; see also McAllister 1996: Chapter 8!. But Kuhn’s model is wrong: Revolutionarytheories such as those of Copernicus, Darwin, and Einstein did not explain facts their fellow scientists weretrying to explain. No crisis existed~see Lightman and Gingerich 1992; Kelly 1994: 455–457!. Revolutionaryscientists typically answer questions virtually no one else is asking and initiate revolutions virtually no one elsewants. Scientific revolutions thereby differ considerably from political revolutions~see Feuer 1982: 252–268;see also 269–311; Kubler 1962: 109!.

Sociological Theory 18:3 November 2000© American Sociological Association. 1307 New York Avenue NW, Washington, DC 20005-4701

~developed by Albert Einstein! and quantum theory~developed by Max Planck, NielsBohr, Werner Heisenberg, and others! early in the twentieth century. A revolution funda-mentally changes science, and classical science becomes obsolete.3

CLASSICAL SOCIOLOGY

Sociology has never had a revolution. Classical sociology merely refers to early sociology,and it has never been overthrown or abandoned. On the contrary: Modern sociologistswidely agree that the fundamentals of sociology outlined by the classical sociologists—Max Weber, Emile Durkheim, Georg Simmel, and the rest4—still prevail. Classical soci-ology is the model of sociology itself. Moreover, the classical conception of social realityis largely psychological~a matter of subjectivity!, the classical logic of explanation islargely teleological~a matter of means and ends!, and the classical subject is largely theperson~including a number or group of persons!. Social action is individual action.

Max Weber—possibly the most celebrated classical sociologist—is explicitly and mil-itantly psychological, teleological, and individualistic. He asserts, for example, that soci-ology is the “interpretive understanding of social action” and that “subjective understandingis the specific characteristic of sociological knowledge”~@1922# 1978, Volume 1: 4, 15;see also 8; Ringer 1997: 1, 92!. Human behavior is “action” only if it has “subjectivemeaning” for the actor, and action is “social” only if “its subjective meaning takes accountof the behavior of others”~idem: 4; see also 26; Volume 2: 1375–1376!. Furthermore, only“ individual human beings” engage in social action~Volume 1: 13, italics in original!;collectivities do not.5 His most respected ideas of a substantive nature, such as his con-ception of the “legitimacy” of authority~idem: 212–216; see also Volume 2: 901–910! andhis theory of the rise of capitalism~@1904–05# 1958!, are explicitly psychological, teleo-logical, and individualistic as well.

The classical sociologist most famous for insisting that sociology is different frompsychology—Emile Durkheim~@1895# 1964!—also continually addresses the subjectivityof the goal-seeking individual. He psychologizes virtually every subject, even society:“Because society can exist only in and by means of individual minds, it must enter into usand become organized within us. . . . Society is a synthesis of human consciousnesses”~@1912# 1995: 211, 432; see also 445!. He claims that “everything in social life rests onopinion” and that sociology is primarily the study of opinion: “We can make opinion anobject of study and create a science of it; that is what sociology principally consists in”~439!. Everywhere he discusses the contents of the human mind, whether a feeling ofsolidarity with others~@1893# 1964!, a predisposition to suicide~@1897# 1951!, or a rev-erence for society~@1912# 1995!. If Durkheimian sociology is not psychological, thenDurkheim is not Durkheimian. But Weber and Durkheim are not uniquely psychological,teleological, and individualistic. They exemplify classical sociology.6 And they exemplifymodern sociology as well.

3Classical science may survive in a limited capacity, however. Although Einstein’s general theory of relativityis more powerful than Newton’s law of gravity, for example, Newton’s law is still used to predict gravitation onor near the surface of earth~see Weinberg 1998; Greene 1999: 380–381!.

4I particularly refer to the generation of sociologists whose work spanned the turn of the twentieth century. Seeany textbook on the history of sociological theory for a more complete list.

5Weber acknowledges that a concern with subjectivity limits the scope of sociology, such as its capacity tounderstand human behavior in tribal societies: “Our ability to share the feelings of primitive men is not verymuch greater” than our ability to share “the subjective state of an animal”—which is “at best very unsatisfactory”~@1922# 1978, Volume 1: 16!.

6So does Georg Simmel: Everywhere he addresses the subjectivity of individuals, such as the psychologicaldynamics of friendship, coquetry, sex, and love~@1908# 1950: 50–51, 324–329; see also Poggi 1993!.

344 SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY

Modern sociology remains classical.7 It is modern only in a chronological sense~butsee, e.g., Luhmann@1984# 1995: xlv–xlvii; quotation in Sciulli 1994: 66!. Modern sociol-ogists commonly regard classical sociology as the most important sociology ever written~see, e.g., Collins 1986: xi, 5; Poggi 1996: 39, 46!. They invoke it as the supreme authority~see, e.g., Alexander 1987: 28!. They read it for inspiration, and teach it to their students.Many spend their entire careers reading and writing about classical sociology. They assumethat every modern sociologist stands on the shoulders of classical sociologists and thatevery sociological theory is a version of classical sociology—Weberian, Durkheimian,Simmelian, and so on. And they are right: Modern sociology still has the psychologicalconception of social reality found in the classical texts. It still has a teleological strategy ofexplanation. It still places the person at the center of social life. Understandably, therefore,no one challenges classical sociology~see, e.g., Alexander 1987: 28!. It has never becomeobsolete. If the classical works were to appear today—such as Weber’sEconomy andSociety~@1922# 1978! andThe Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism~@1904–05#1958! or Durkheim’sThe Division of Labor in Society~@1893# 1964! andThe ElementaryForms of Religious Life~@1912# 1995!—they would still be acclaimed as major contribu-tions. The stature of classical sociology could hardly be greater~see, e.g., Parsons 1968:xiii; Alexander 1987: 31–32 and title of essay; Turner 1996: 15!. It has never been ques-tioned, much less overthrown.

Pure sociology, however, is not classical sociology. It has a new conception of socialreality and a new strategy of explanation. It answers questions unasked by classical soci-ologists and their modern counterparts. It solves a crisis unknown to either. The crisis isthat sociology is not really sociological.

NORMAL SOCIOLOGY

In our student days we hear that sociology is the science of social life. Its subject is social,and its theory is social. Our teachers and textbooks tell us sociology is different frompsychology—because it is not psychological. They tell us sociology is different from ide-ology and humanism—because it is scientific. They tell us we should read classical soci-ologists~such as Weber and Durkheim! to see how sociology is done. But sociology isactually not so different from psychology, and it is not so scientific either.

Virtually all sociology explicitly or implicitly addresses human subjectivity. Often itexplains human behavior with the psychological impact of the social environment. Moti-vations and meanings are central. This applies, for example, to the sociology of deviantbehavior, collective behavior, political behavior, religious behavior, legal behavior, med-ical behavior, and behavior in business organizations, schools, professions, families, andother groups. It also applies to fields such as social stratification, race and ethnic relations,and culture~including the sociology of science, knowledge, and art!. All include subjec-tive matters such as prestige, prejudice, perceptions, and beliefs. Even when the questionsasked by sociologists are not explicitly psychological—when they seek only to explainparticular patterns of human behavior—their answers are psychological, including answersbased on psychological assumptions about human preferences and proclivities. Wherethen is the science of social life that is truly different from psychology?

And where is the science of social life that is truly scientific? Much is ideological—acritique of modern society. Much is humanistic—interpretations and arguments ratherthan predictions and explanations. Much is scholarship about scholarship, books about

7Although sociological theory—the explanation of human behavior—is still largely classical, sociology hasotherwise advanced considerably in its methods of research~including statistical methods! and its accumulationof empirical findings~mainly on modern societies such as the United States!.

DREAMS OF PURE SOCIOLOGY 345

books, words about words. If explanatory at all, most is teleological: It explains humanbehavior as a means to an end. It assumes or imputes ends—goals, needs, values, interests—and then explains human behavior as a means to those ends.

Teleology has a bad reputation in sociology—but only when it attributes a mission ordestiny to society as a whole. A well-known example is Karl Marx’s theory that all soci-eties inevitably progress toward communism~see, e.g., Marx and Engels in Feuer 1959;see also Popper@1961# 1964!. We hear that teleology is unscientific because the goal orpurpose of a society is unobservable and unknowable. We hear it is metaphysical. Yet otherversions of teleology still dominate sociological theory. Virtually all sociology explainshuman behavior as a means to an end—a goal or purpose. Teleology is the superparadigmof sociology~Black 1995: 861–863!. But it is bad science: Like the goal or purpose ofsociety as a whole, the goal or purpose of human behavior of any kind is unobservable andunknowable~see idem: 861–864!.

Sociology is unscientific in other respects as well. Research is often independent oftheory, and theory is often independent of research. Because so much theory is untestable—unfalsifiable—it is mostly irrelevant to researchers, and research is mostly irrelevant totheorists. Moreover, most sociologists study only a single subject in their own society:Americans study American society, Germans study German society, Japanese study Japa-nese society, and so on. Many study only their own part of society: Many women studyonly women, many African-Americans study only African-Americans, many Hispanic-Americans study only Hispanic-Americans, and so on. Their research is largely practicaland ideological, designed to assess the well-being of their society or part of society. Somesearch for inequality, injustice, or other conditions they wish to evaluate or expose. Othersconduct surveys about modern life in the manner of political pollsters and consumer research-ers. Who thinks what? How do they feel?

And theory? Much so-called theory is merely a discussion of other theorists, a clarifi-cation or elaboration of past ideas. Much is merely conceptual, a way to classify anddescribe human behavior. Even explanatory theory is mostly untestable—neither right norwrong. What then is it?

Many sociologists believe sociology can never meet the highest standards of science—testability, generality, and so on. They lack a requirement of good science: the faith thatthey can do what seems impossible to others. They accept their inferiority in the world ofscience.8 Others totally or partially reject the standards of science. They regard the natureof sociology as a matter of personal opinion and claim the right to do whatever they like,scientific or not. Their sociology is not even classical. Classical sociology is more scientific.

In sum, from the beginning I was disappointed by the psychological, teleological, andideological nature of sociology. Sociology had not met its obligation to be sociological,and sociologists lacked faith in sociology. I became a sociological fundamentalist andvowed to say only what is truly sociological or to say nothing at all. I dreamed of a genuinescience of social life.

But what is truly sociological? What is social life? These simple questions led to a newsociology with a new theoretical logic: pure sociology.

8Historic figures in science, philosophy, and modern art virtually always believe their work is extremelyimportant. A number of eminent scientists called their own work “revolutionary,” for example, including CharlesDarwin and Albert Einstein~see Cohen 1985: 46!. Philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein evaluated his first book inits preface: “The truth of the thoughts that are here communicated seems to me unassailable and definitive. Itherefore believe myself to have found, on all essential points, the final solution to the problems”~1921: 5; italicsomitted!. Philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche called his workThus Spake Zarathustra“the most exalted” and “theprofoundest” book in existence~@1888# 1992: 5, italics omitted; see also 39, 42–45, 87!. And Spanish painterSalvador Dalí entitled his journalDiary of a Genius~@1964# 1986!.

But how many sociologists regard their own work as historically important? How many claim it is revolution-ary, or even that anyone else’s is revolutionary? I have never seen or heard such a claim.


THE ELIMINATION OF PEOPLE

The subject of pure sociology is not human behavior in the usual sense. It is not thebehavior of a person or a group of persons. It is a new subject in the history of science: thebehavior of social life. Pure sociology thus violates common sense by removing humansfrom human behavior and eliminating what has always been central to the visualization ofthe subject, scientifically and otherwise: people. It reverses the direction of human actionby reconceptualizing the action of a person or group as the action of a social entity such aslaw or science or art. Social action becomes truly social~compare, e.g., Weber@1922#1978, Volume 1: 4, 8, 13–15; Parsons@1937# 1968; Luhmann@1984# 1995: 137, 165–177;1990: 53–54; see also Black 1995: 859–860!. Pure sociology completely contradicts theviewpoint known as methodological individualism—what Popper calls “the quite unassail-able doctrine that we must try to understand all collective phenomena as due to the actions,interactions, aims, hopes, and thoughts of individual men, and as due to traditions createdand preserved by individual men”~@1961# 1964: 155–156; see also Homans 1967: 61–64!.Because social life such as law or science or art has no psychology of its own—no mind,no thoughts, no subjectivity—psychology totally disappears from sociology.

The conceptual leap from the behavior of people to the behavior of social life changesthe identity of everything once viewed anthropocentrically—from the point of view of aperson. The subject of legal sociology, for example, now becomes the behavior of law itself.A call to the police is an increase of law, a movement of law into a conflict. An arrest is alsoan increase of law, and so is a prosecution, conviction, or punishment. A severe punishmentis a greater increase of law than a mild punishment. A civil lawsuit is an increase of law aswell, and so is a victory for the plaintiff or an order to pay damages. Every action of everyperson in legal life becomes an action of law, and everything is simpler: With a single con-cept the behavior of law includes everything previously regarded as the behavior of diverseindividuals such as citizens, police officers, lawyers, and judges. It also led to a new dis-covery: Law behaves according to the same principles everywhere—across all legal cases,all stages of the legal process, all societies, all times. Law obeys sociological laws.

Numerous formulations predict and explain variation in the quantity and style of law—without qualifications of any kind~see Black 1976!. These formulations specify how law var-ies with its location and direction in social space—its geometry—such as its social elevation,whether it has an upward or downward direction, and the social distance it spans.9 They pre-dict, for instance, more law at higher elevations, more in a downward than an upward direc-tion,andmoreacrossgreaterdistances in relationalandcultural space—patternsactually foundin diverse times and places~see, e.g., idem, 1989, 1995: 842–844!. More formulations per-tain to other kinds of conflict~e.g., Baumgartner 1988; Black 1995: 834–837, 855, notes 129–130; 1998; Senechal de la Roche 1996!10and to other phenomena such as the behavior of art,medicine, and supernatural beings~see, e.g., Black 1979b, 1995: 855–857!.

Sociology is a matter of degree, and pure sociology is the most sociological sociology: Itis entirely scientific and entirely uncontaminated by psychology or other sciences~compareWard 1903; Simmel@1908# 1950: 21!. It contains no assumptions, assertions, or implica-tions about the human mind or its contents. It completely ignores human subjectivity, the con-

9Social space includes vertical, horizontal, cultural, corporate, and normative dimensions. Pure sociologypredicts and explains social life with the shape of social space—social structure—where it occurs~see Black1976; 1979b; 1995: 851–852!. Neither macroscopic nor microscopic, the geometry of social space transcends theusual units of sociological analysis such as societies, communities, and persons.

10For other applications, tests, and extensions, see, e.g.,~in alphabetical order! Baumgartner~1978, 1985,1992, 1999: Chapter 1!, Black and Baumgartner~1983!, Borg ~1992!, Cooney~1994, 1997, 1998!, Griffiths~1984!, Horwitz ~1982, 1990!, Kruttschnitt~1982!, Morrill ~1992, 1995!, Morrill, Snyderman and Dawson~1997!,Mullis ~1995!, Senechal de la Roche~1997a, 1997b!, Silberman~1985!, Tucker~1989, 1999a, 1999b!; see alsothe citations in Black~1989: 108, note 52; 1995: 844–845, note 88!.


scious and unconscious meanings and feelings people experience, including their perceptions,cognitions, and attitudes.And it has no teleology—no conceptions or explanations of humanbehavior as a means to an end, conscious or unconscious, individual or collective. It does notassume, assert, or imply that people have particular purposes or preferences, intentions ormotives, interests or values, or that groups have particular needs or functions or goals. It doesnot attribute reasons or rationales to people for anything they do or fail to do. And becauseit removes people, it eliminates something universally regarded as indispensable to the un-derstanding of human behavior.11All that remains is social life. In several respects, then, puresociology is a radical departure from classical and modern sociology.

I now illustrate pure sociology with several formulations about the behavior of ideas, in-cluding the behavior of science and sociology—a pure sociology of knowledge. UltimatelyI outline a theory of theory with practical implications for the creation of theory itself.

THE THEORY OF THE SUBJECT

An idea is a statement about the nature of reality~see Black 1979b: 157–160!. Every ideahas a social structure—a multidimensional location in social space—known by the charac-teristics of its source, audience, and subject. The source of an idea is its agent, the audienceanyone to whom it is directed, and the subject anything it describes or explains.12 Thesource and audience may be more or less intimate with the subject~relational distance!,for example, culturally different~cultural distance!, or engage in different activities~func-tional distance!.13 The source is relationally close to the subject when someone talks abouta spouse, friend, himself, or herself, for instance, while a mere acquaintance or stranger ismore distant. The relational closeness of the audience to the subject is similarly variable.14

Note, too, that the subject might be anything at all, human or nonhuman.15 It might bedead, alive, or inorganic—an animal, plant, or part of the physical world.16 It might be ahuman creation—music, money, or a machine. It might be a theory, sociology, or God.17

11The removal of people from sociology is similar to the removal of a recognizable subject~such as a person orlandscape! from painting early in the twentieth century—also viewed as the removal of something indispensable~see Greenberg@1958# 1961: 208–209!. Art without a subject is pure art—the most artistic art—entirely aestheticand uncontaminated by practical utility. Anything pure is the most of itself, autonomous and free of everythingelse~see Bourdieu@1992# 1996: 223, 241, 248–249, 299; compare Latour@1991# 1993: 10–11!. A purification isan essentialization: Something becomes the essence of itself. Russian painter Wassily Kandinsky thus spoke of“pure painting” and a “higher level of pure art” concerned with “painterly-spiritual essences”~@1911# 1982: 103;@1913# 1982: 353!, and Dutch painter Piet Mondrian called for a “purification of art” that preserves only “theessence of art”~respectively,@1938# 1986: 302–303;@1936# 1986: 299!.

12My concept of the subject is short for subject matter—as in the “subject index” of a book~compare, e.g.,Bourdieu@1992# 1996: 206–208; Luhmann 1995: xxxviii–xliii!.

13Relational distance refers to the degree of participation in the existence of someone or something, such as thefrequency, duration, breadth, and depth of contact, including the amount of information communicated abouteach~see Black 1976: 40–41!. Cultural distance refers to a difference in the content of culture, such as differ-ences between religions or modes of dress~idem: 74–75!. Functional distance refers to a difference in activity,such as differences between occupations or daily responsibilities~a type of social distance separating men andwomen throughout human history that is now decreasing!.

14Art that depicts reality, such as a painting or work of literature, likewise has a social structure that includesits subject. A painter is very close to the subject of a self-portrait, for example, but more distant from a lessfamiliar or less similar human subject or a nonhuman subject such as a bowl of apples. The closeness of theaudience to the artistic subject is variable as well.

15Partly because humans have contact with nonhuman as well as human reality, the jurisdiction of sociologyextends beyond humanity~see generally Knorr Cetina 1997!. It also extends to the social life of nonhumans~seeBlack 2000: 114–116!.

16Although humans may become highly intimate with a physical object such as an automobile, house, orcomputer, they ordinarily are functionally as well as relationally closer to living things—especially fellow humansand other animals but also plants such as trees and flowers. In many ways humans are functionally closer tofellow humans than to nonhumans, though all animals are somewhat close merely because they move, consume,and reproduce in a manner that resembles the behavior of humans.

17Physicist Richard P. Feynman speaks of “falling deeply in love” with a particular theory when he was ayoung man and maintaining the relationship until the theory became “an old lady” who had “given birth to somevery good children”~quoted in Traweek 1988: 102–103!.


The Two-Directional Nature of Social Distance

Social distance is two-directional: measurable from both A to B and B to A. And it may beasymmetrical—unequal in each direction, the distance fromAto B closer or farther than thedistance from B toA. Such differences are obvious in relationships between humans and non-humans: Humans may be intimate with virtually anything, living or not, while the reversedoes not apply. Human relationships are often asymmetrical as well.Ahusband may be closerto his wife than is she to him, for instance—if he participates more in her life than she par-ticipates in his. The same often applies to friends and acquaintances.Asymmetrical relation-ships commonly involve an unequal flow of information between the parties, illustrated toan extreme degree by the one-sided closeness of those exposed electronically on televisionsets or computers, possibly celebrities known to millions, while their audience is entirely un-known to them.18 Historical records allow a one-sided closeness with those long dead.

The two-directional and possibly asymmetrical nature of social distance is radicallyunlike physical distance, which is always equal in both directions. Pure sociology thusintroduces a new geometry of reality unlike the geometry of earlier sciences such as phys-ics and astronomy. The following pages feature the two-directional nature of social dis-tance in the geometry of ideas.

What Is Important?

The social structure of an idea predicts and explains its success. The success of an idea isthe degree to which it is defined as true and important—its magnitude. One idea is recog-nized as useful or even brilliant while another receives only mild approval or total indif-ference. How does the former differ sociologically from the latter?

Hold constant an idea’s content, and its success partly depends on the social location ofits source and audience.19 Who presents the idea to whom? One relevant variable is thecloseness of the audience to the source:The magnitude of an idea is an inverse function ofsocial distance from the audience~see idem: 159!. An intimate’s idea is more likely tosucceed than a stranger’s. Social elevation is relevant as well:Downward ideas are greaterthan upward ideas~idem: 158–159!. A social superior’s idea is more likely to succeed thana social inferior’s.20

The success of an idea also depends on the social location of the subject. One factor isthe subject’s closeness:The magnitude of an idea is a curvilinear function of social dis-tance from the subject. The success of an idea increases with the social distance of thesource and audience from the subject until a point when it decreases.21 A statement about

18Other distances in social space are two-directional and possibly asymmetrical as well. A might speak B’snative language, for example, while B cannot speak A’s—an asymmetrical distance in cultural space. Or A mightreceive information about B’s great wealth while B has little or no information about A’s wealth—an asymmet-rical distance in vertical space.

Formulations pertaining to the behavior of social life in social space should recognize the two-directionalnature of social distance. For instance, law may have relational direction from a closer toward a farther party, orvice versa, and the amount of law depends more on the distance from the complainant to the defendant than fromthe defendant to the complainant~compare Black 1976: 40–48!.

19The content of an idea, such as the degree to which it is scientific or new, also predicts and explains its fate.But here I leave aside the content of ideas and focus entirely on their social structure—the shape of social spacewhere they occur.

20By social superior I mean someone with a higher social elevation—more social status. Social status includesvertical status~wealth, such as money or livestock!, radial status~integration, such as employment or marriage!,relational status~a degree of prominence, resulting from social ties to others!, functional status~a level ofperformance, such as the points scored by a basketball player!, cultural status~conventionality, such as therelative preponderance of a religion!, and normative status~respectability, a condition that declines with theapplication of social control! ~see Black 1976: Chapters 2–6!.

21Theoretical sociologists do not always recognize curvilinearity in social life. For example, Durkheim presentsthree major propositions about egoistic, altruistic, and anomic suicide and a fourth~in a footnote! about fatalisticsuicide~@1897# 1951: Chapters 2–5; 276, note 25!, but these can be reduced to two curvilinear formulations:1! Suicide is a U-curvilinear function of social integration~egoistic and altruistic suicide at the extremes!, and2! suicide is a U-curvilinear function of social regulation~anomic and fatalistic suicide at the extremes!.


a stranger is more likely to succeed than a statement about someone closer such as acolleague, spouse, or oneself. Courtroom testimony by a stranger to a subject is morelikely to succeed than identical testimony by a subject’s wife or mother. Even less likely tosucceed is the subject’s own testimony. The same principle implies that an idea in a phys-ical or biological science~such as chemistry or biology! is more likely to succeed than anidea in sociology—because the human subjects of sociology are closer to humans than thenonhuman subjects of the natural sciences.22 For the same reason a sociological idea abouta foreign or past society is more likely to succeed than an idea about the sociologist’s ownsociety. Because classical sociology was more comparative and historical than modernsociology, it was regarded as more important in its own time than is modern sociologytoday ~see Elias@1987# 1994: 94!. The same still applies to comparative and historicalsociology: It attracts more recognition and respect than the sociology of modern life.

The success of an idea likewise depends on the social status of its subject:The magni-tude of an idea is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject. An idea abouta lower subject~such as the source’s or audience’s employee! is more likely to succeedthan the same idea about a higher subject~such as the source’s or audience’s employer!.Legal testimony about a social inferior is more likely to succeed than identical testimonyabout a social superior. Testimony about a homeless man, for instance, is more likely tosucceed than identical testimony about a prominent politician~see Cooney 1994: 848–851!. The sociology of lower subjects~such as poor people or criminals! is more likely tosucceed than the sociology of higher subjects~such as monarchs and states!.

What Is Interesting?

The social structure of the subject also predicts and explains what is interesting—whatattracts ideas and attention~compare Davis 1971!. The social distance from the source andaudience is again relevant:The attractiveness of a subject is an inverse function of socialdistance. Relationally, culturally, and functionally closer subjects attract both more ideasand more attention. We can predict what people talk about, what they write and read about,and what movies, television programs, and other information they consume. Humansubjects—especially living humans—are more attractive than nonhuman subjects, for exam-ple, and nonhuman subjects functionally close to humans~such as fellow mammals! aremore attractive than other subjects~such as atomic particles!. As one physicist remarks:“We don’t study elementary particles because they are intrinsically interesting, like peo-ple. They are not—if you’ve seen one electron you’ve seen them all”~Weinberg 1998: 50!.And one biologist complains that his subject—ants—never receives as much attention asmonkeys and other vertebrates more “familiar” to humans~Wilson 1994: 135!. The morea subject is studied, however, the closer and more interesting it becomes.

Among human subjects, one’s own society, activities, intimates, and self are espe-cially interesting: They attract more ideas and attention than subjects farther away insocial space. More sociology therefore pertains to the sociologist’s home society than toforeign or earlier societies. Whether a subject is interesting also depends on its socialstatus:The attractiveness of a subject is a direct function of its social elevation. Highersubjects such as the rich and powerful attract more ideas and attention than lower sub-jects such as the poor and weak. The rich and powerful are more interesting to them-selves as well.

But recall that ideas with closer and higher subjects are less likely to be defined as trueand important. An implication is that ideas with more interesting subjects~also closer and

22Economist Milton Friedman observes that the closeness of economics to everyday life impedes the success ofeconomic ideas: “Familiarity with the subject matter of economics breeds contempt for special knowledge aboutit” ~1953: 40!.


higher! are less likely to succeed. For example, ideas about human behavior occur at a veryhigh rate and attract a great deal of attention: Everyone is an amateur psychologist andsociologist. Closer and higher humans are the most interesting of all. Yet ideas with closerand higher subjects are less successful. Although domestic sociology~on the sociologist’sown society! is more common and attracts more attention than foreign sociology~on othersocieties!, then, domestic sociology is doomed to be forever unimportant—forever disap-pointing. The same applies to the sociology of higher subjects, such as the sociology oflaw and religion. Sciences with nonhuman subjects are different: Natural scientists such asphysicists and astronomers regard their ideas as more important than those of sociologists,and virtually everyone agrees—even sociologists.

The formulations above, however, logically imply nothing about the ultimate truth orvalue of any ideas~see Black 1979b: 159–160!. The sociology of knowledge, includingthe sociology of science, implies nothing about whether any idea deserves special credi-bility or prestige~compare, e.g., Pickering 1984: 413–414; see also Mannheim 1936:75–87, 286–306!. Nor does it imply epistemological relativism—the view that no formof knowledge is better than another. Like moral or aesthetic relativism, epistemologicalrelativism is itself an evaluation—an evaluation of evaluation~compare, e.g., Woolgar1983; Fuchs 1992: 20–34!. Ludwig Wittgenstein remarks that neither a moral nor anaesthetic evaluation derives from facts alone, and that the two are logically indistin-guishable: “Ethics and aesthetics are one and the same”~@1921# 1961: 147; see also Monk1990: 277!. But he does not go far enough: Ethics, aesthetics, and epistemology are oneand the same.

THE THEORY OF SCIENTICITY

Science is a matter of degree—scienticity. The scienticity of an idea increases with itstestability, generality, simplicity, validity, and originality.23 Testability is the capacity ofan idea to predict facts,24 generality the diversity of facts it addresses, simplicity its econ-omy of expression,25 validity its conformity with the facts,26 and originality its newness~see generally Black 1995: 831–847; see also, e.g., Friedman 1953; Jasso 1988!. Super-

23Another aspect of scienticity is facticity—the degree to which an idea pertains to an observable aspect ofreality. Note that the scienticity of an idea pertains to its content alone and is logically independent of its origins,including the psychology and sociology of its occurrence~see Dahrendorf@1961# 1968: 8–11; compare Mann-heim 1936: 286–306!.

Some regard objectivity as central to scienticity~e.g., Popper@1961# 1964: 152–156; Polanyi@1962# 1964:Chapter 1; Fuchs 1997!. But if objectivity is a revelation of the one and only reality, it is scientifically unknow-able. If it is mental, it is sociologically irrelevant. If it is an observable characteristic of an idea, it is an elementof validity and is already included in my concept of scienticity.

24A prediction is a logical implication about quantitative variation. If an idea cannot be tested by countingsomething, its validity is unknowable~see Black 1995: 831–833!. Even so, testability is a matter of degree. Anidea is more testable than another if its implications are clearer and more readily observable. Ideas are merelysuggestive if they do not imply predictions of a quantitative nature but nevertheless inspire research. The work ofKarl Marx ~e.g., Marx and Engels in Feuer 1959! is suggestive rather than testable, for example, and the sameapplies to sociological theorists such as Erving Goffman~e.g., 1959, 1967! and Pierre Bourdieu~e.g., @1979#1984,@1992# 1996!. Others, such as Talcott Parsons~e.g., 1951, 1954! and Niklas Luhmann~e.g.,@1984# 1995,1990!, are hardly even suggestive: Their work inspires little research.

25The simplicity of an idea is measurable with its length, such as the number of words or mathematicalnotations it includes~Gell-Mann 1994: 30–34; McAllister 1996: 118–120; see also Black 1995: 838–841!.Friedman comments that a scientific theory is simpler if it requires less “initial knowledge . . . to make a predic-tion” ~1953: 10!.

26The validity of a scientific theory is measurable with its precision: the degree to which the frequency andmagnitude of its explanatory variable match the frequency and magnitude of the variable it seeks to explain. Thehighest validity is total precision. For instance, a theory that variable A explains variable B is highly precise if allAs are also Bs and all Bs are also As, but less precise if only a few As are also Bs or only a few Bs are also As.

An example of a theory with low precision is that later-borns~children with at least one older sibling! are morelikely to be highly creative than firstborns—which is said to explain major innovations in such fields as science,art, religion, and politics~Sulloway 1996!. Its precision is low because most people are later-borns—all the moreso in earlier societies with larger families—while very few are highly creative.


natural and metaphysical ideas have little or no scienticity, for instance, whereas theoriesin physics and astronomy often have a great deal. These differences are predictable.

The social location of the subject is fateful:Scienticity is a curvilinear function of socialdistance from the subject. Both very close and very distant subjects attract less scienticity.Scienticity increases with social distance until the subject disappears or becomes com-pletely alien.27 This principle explains numerous differences across sciences, scientists,and nonscientists as well as aspects of the evolution of science, including sociology. Firstconsider why some sciences are more scientific.

The Behavior of Science

The history of science is a history of relationships—commonly a history of contact withsubjects once entirely unknown. The greatest scienticity occurs not where scientists arevery familiar with their subjects, but where they are newly acquainted and largely distant.Science developed earliest and fastest where its subjects were extremely remote. Firstcame astronomy, a science with a subject only barely observable: The earth-centered astron-omy of Claudius Ptolemy was the most scientific body of ideas for nearly 1,500 years,until overturned by Nicholas Copernicus in the sixteenth century. Physics, a science nowmostly dependent on experiments for contact with its subject, advanced dramatically inthe seventeenth century with Isaac Newton’s revolutionary ideas—especially his mergingof astronomical and earthly science in the theory of gravitation. Chemistry had its revo-lution when Antoine Lavoisier introduced modern chemical classification in the eighteenthcentury~see generally Mason 1962!. Biology, closer to its subject than astronomy, phys-ics, or chemistry, had no revolution until Charles Darwin challenged the Biblical doctrineof divine creation in the nineteenth century. Sociology and psychology, the sciences withthe closest subjects of all, came last—with the twentieth century. Astronomy and physicsare still the most scientific sciences, while sociology and psychology are still the least.

Why did the sciences with nonhuman subjects arise earlier and become more scientificover time—more testable, general, and so on? And why did the sciences with humansubjects arise and advance at all? An implication of my principle of scienticity is thatscience advances most when the subject is neither too far nor too close. Sciences withnonhuman and remote subjects must therefore overcome their distance, while those withhuman and familiar subjects must overcome their closeness. Both actually occurred: Thephysical sciences arose and became more scientific as their subjects became increasinglyobservable, while the social sciences did so as they reached beyond subjects previously tooclose and increasingly made contact with a more distant world. The nonhuman sciencesadvanced faster because they overcame their distance faster than the human sciences over-came their closeness.

Distant sciences such as astronomy and physics employed new means of observationsuch as telescopes, microscopes, and electronic instruments to become acquainted withsubjects once completely invisible. Physicist Stephen Hawking notes that cosmologistscould once observe hardly any of their subject—the universe as a whole: “Until the 1920sabout the only important cosmological observation was that the sky at night is dark. . . .However, in recent years the range and quality of cosmological observations has improvedenormously with developments in technology”~quoted in Hawking and Penrose 1996:75!. Cosmology is literally light-years from most of its subject, yet close enough fora considerable degree of scienticity. The tiny subject of particle physics—behavior in

27Scienticity declines when information about a subject—a form of relational closeness—diminishes to a pointwhen the behavior of the subject is invisible. It also declines when the subject is so distant functionally orculturally that its characteristics are completely foreign and incomparable to anything else.


atoms—was entirely unobservable until the twentieth century, but the invention of particleaccelerators~the largest scientific instruments in history! made this subject sufficientlyvisible for a high degree of scienticity~see, e.g., Segrè@1976# 1980; Pickering 1984;Traweek 1988!.28

Closer sciences such as biology and sociology advance by making contact with previ-ously distant subjects as well. Darwin’s revolutionary theory might never have occurred tohim had he known only the flora and fauna of his native England and never taken hisfamous voyage on theBeagleto South America and its nearby islands. Especially valuablewas the “strangeness” of the species in the Galápagos Islands~Desmond and Moore@1991#1992: 170; see also Darwin@1859# 1967: 1; Sulloway 1996: Chapter 1!. A close subject isa scientific handicap.

The Behavior of Sociology

Sociology took a great leap forward in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries—its classical period—when sociologists reached beyond their home societies. Classicalsociologists devoured information about past and present societies around the world pro-vided by historians, explorers, missionaries, and other observers. But later sociologistsmostly studied only their own societies, and comparative and historical sociology came tobe regarded as a specialty. Scienticity declined. Some research methods—such as partici-pant observation and in-depth interviewing—brought modern sociology even closer to itssubject and subverted its scienticity still more. Modern sociology became less scientificthan classical sociology.

The scienticity of each field and topic in sociology varies with its closeness to thesubject as well. Close sociology is less scientific. Domestic subjects~located in the soci-ologist’s own society and time! attract less scienticity than foreign subjects. Domesticsociologists are more practical and ideological, and also more concerned with unobserv-ables such as human meanings, motives, interests, and goals.29 Outsiders are more scien-tific: Social distance contributed to such respected works as French aristocrat Alexis deTocqueville’s study of American society~@1835–40# 1969!, Swedish economist GunnarMyrdal’s study of American race relations~1944!, and northern psychologist John Dol-lard’s study of race relations in the American South~1937!. Yet modern sociologists havegravitated increasingly to subjects ever closer to their own lives. Many study only theirown race, ethnicity, gender, or locality.30 Once preoccupied with distant subjects belowtheir own social elevation~slum dwellers and poor criminals!, they increasingly shifted tocloser and higher subjects~professionals and others like themselves! and undermined theirscienticity even more. The sociology of white-collar crime, for instance, is more criticaland otherwise unscientific than the sociology of blue-collar crime~Black 1995: 856,note 137!. The sociology of knowledge—an especially close subject—is one of sociology’s

28The particle accelerator’s detector drastically reduces the social distance from physicists to particles: “Therelationship between the scientist and nature is at its most intimate and physical in the detectors. . . . Thecon-summation of the marriage between scientist and nature in the detector sometimes leads to progeny for the proudscientist: a discovery”~Traweek 1988: 158–159!.

29Some physicists are more scientific about human behavior than many sociologists: They dismiss anything“unconscious” as “unknowable” and “assert their ignorance of human motives” and “everything ‘subjective’”~Traweek 1988: 91!.

30The most scientific science is international—stateless—with a subject matter independent of the nationalityof its practitioners: “Particle physicists from anywhere in the world are fond of remarking that they have more incommon with each other than with their next-door neighbors”~Traweek 1988: 126!. But sociology’s largelydomestic subject matter segregates most of it in particular nations. International interaction between sociologistswill remain infrequent and shallow until the subject matter escapes its national boundaries.


least scientific fields. Science itself was one of the last subjects to be studied scientifically.The sociology of sociology hardly exists.31

Closeness to the subject is also an occupational hazard of anthropologists and historianswho study only a single society and period. Initially separated from their subject by aconsiderable distance in social space, their research brings them closer and reduces theirscienticity. Traditional anthropologists literally live with their subject, a condition so inti-mate that many explicitly reject scientific standards such as generality and simplicity insocial science~e.g., Geertz 1973; see also Cooney 1988: 22; Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 21!.

Scienticity is everywhere lower where the subject is closer. Consider law: For centurieslegal scholarship was pursued exclusively by those extremely close to law—lawyers, judges,and law professors—and hardly any scientific ideas about the subject existed. Many legalprofessionals continue to impute their own scientific incapacitation to everyone and insistthat law is immune to science~see Black 1997!. Yet when legal strangers such as sociol-ogists and anthropologists began to study law, especially foreign law in foreign places, asignificant degree of scienticity occurred~see Cooney 1988: 20–27!. Art resists sciencefor the same reason: Most art scholars are too close to be scientific. Nearly all participatein art—whether as artists, collectors, critics, or historians—and nearly all insist that art isimmune to science. But closeness to art, not art itself, is the enemy of science~see Bour-dieu @1992# 1996: Preface, 229–231, 296!.32

The social status of the subject is also important. Ideas about lower subjects are morescientific: Scienticity is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject. Down-ward science~directed at subjects below the scientist! is more scientific than lateral orupward science. In sociology the poor attract more scienticity than the rich, the marginalmore than the integrated, minorities more than majorities, criminal behavior more thanlegal behavior, the behavior of factory workers more than the behavior of corporate exec-utives, and so on. American sociology was once primarily concerned with poor, disadvan-taged, and unrespectable people, and some of its most scientific work pertains to theirbehavior. The Chicago School of sociology of the 1920s and 30s, for instance, mainlystudied those at lower elevations, such as slum dwellers, struggling immigrants, and pettycriminals~e.g., Anderson 1923; Zorbaugh 1929!. The closeness of the subject~in Chicagoitself! nevertheless retarded its scienticity to some degree, especially its theoreticity. Anthro-pology also has the scientific advantage of an inferior subject~usually tribal people andpeasants!, though closeness to the subject likewise subverts its scienticity to some degree.Still lower are the nonhuman subjects of fields such as physics, chemistry, and biology.Particles, molecules, bacteria, and genes—subjects highly attractive to science—have nosocial standing at all.

Some science stratifies reality by ranking the explanatory power of its variables, whileother science treats its variables more equally. Eminent physicist Ernst Mach, for example,rejected “every methodological axiom in science that smacked of privilege and status forany given body or event in nature”~Feuer 1982: 31; see also 32–34; Keller 1983b: 154–157; 1985b: 170–171; Pickering 1984: 74; 1995: 250; Hawking and Penrose 1996: 76!.Pure sociology similarly rejects the theoretical domination of any sociological variable,

31The scienticity of the sociology of science increases with the social distance from the science studied: Thesociology of the physical and biological sciences is more scientific than the sociology of the social sciences, forinstance, and the sociology of foreign and earlier science is more scientific than the sociology of domestic andcontemporary science~for examples of relatively scientific sociology of science, see Merton@1938# 1970, 1973;Crane 1972; Latour and Woolgar 1979; Pickering 1984!.

32Bourdieu comments: “If the science of works of art is still today in its infancy, it is probably because thosein charge of it, and in particular art historians and theoreticians of the aesthetic, are engaged . . . in thestruggleswhich yield the meaning and value of the work of art: In other words, they are caught up in the object they wouldtake as their object”~@1992# 1996: 296; see also 229–231!.


such as the domination of economic ownership in the theory of Karl Marx~e.g., Marx andEngels in Feuer 1959!, social solidarity in the theory of Emile Durkheim~e.g., @1893#1964!, or culture in the theory of Pierre Bourdieu~e.g.,@1979# 1984!. We cannot rank theexplanatory power of the various dimensions of social space~see, e.g., Black 1976, 1995:851–852!. The reason is logical rather than factual.

A principle of incomparability undermines any hierarchical theory that gives a privi-leged place to any variable or that otherwise ranks scientific variables lacking a commondenominator—a common unit of measurement. To rank the explanatory power of vari-ables we must compare equal amounts of each, measured by the same standard. Becausethe various distances and directions in social space~such as relational distance or verticaldirection! have no such common denominator, we cannot compare their explanatory power.Although we can rank these or other variables for the practical purposes of a single study—where the comparisons reflect their measurement in one context—we cannot rank them ina theory that applies more widely, such as across societies and history. How can we com-pare, say, the impact of intimacy to the impact of economic superiority in legal or othermatters? How much intimacy equals how much economic superiority? They have no com-mon denominator. We therefore cannot compare the impact of equal amounts of each, andcannot rank their explanatory power.33 The only exception would be a variable with noexplanatory power at all. The same principle of incomparability applies throughout science—wherever variables lack a common denominator. Why, then, does theory so often rank onevariable over another?

The ranking of variables in science reflects ranking in the social environment:Hierar-chical explanation is a direct function of hierarchical space~see Durkheim and Mauss@1901–02# 1963; Schwartz 1981; Keller 1983b: 154–155!. Theoretical domination by asingle variable expresses social domination by a single authority. An implication is thatone-dimensional theory in science—monotheorism—occurs in the same environment asmonotheism in religion: monolithic authority~see Durkheim@1912# 1995; Swanson 1960:Chapter 3!. Marxian theory, for example, is a dictatorial theory: One variable~capitalownership! is said to explain and thereby dominate everything else. Such a theory thrivesbest in dictatorial settings such as twentieth-century Russia, China, and various societies inLatin America. But the egalitarian theory of pure sociology—where no variable dominatesanother—thrives best in more egalitarian settings such as modern America and westernEurope. Different theories inhabit different locations in social space, and theoreticalchange reflects social change~compare Kuhn 1962; but see Durkheim@1912# 1995: 8–18,440–448!.

Scientific revolutions commonly establish that something once regarded as constant isactually variable, whether the position of the earth~Copernicus!, the characteristics ofplants and animals~Darwin!, the nature of space and time~Einstein!, the size of theuniverse~Hubble!, or the placement of the continents~Wegener!. Pure sociology similarlyshows that social phenomena previously regarded as constant are actually variable. Thetheory of law outlined earlier, for instance, implies thatthe law does not exist. Law variesfrom case to case. It is relative rather than universal~see Black 1976, 1989!. The sameapplies to morality, ideas, and God~see idem 1995: 855–857!. The discovery of newvariation follows changes in the social location of subjects once too close or distant for a

33Sociological studies that statistically rank the explanatory power of variables may have little or no theoreticalrelevance. On the one hand, for instance, because different amounts of wealth have a common denominator~aunit of value such as dollars!, we can readily rank their impact on legal or other behavior. It is thus possible totheorize that law against economic inferiors is greater than law against economic superiors~Black 1976: 21–24!.On the other hand, because different amounts of, say, wealth, intimacy, and cultural closeness have no suchcommon denominator, we cannot rank their impact on law or anything else.


higher level of scienticity. Scientific revolutions thus reflect transformations in the socialstructure of the subject~compare, e.g., Kuhn 1962!.

The Behavior of Common Sense

The familiarity of a subject repels scienticity and attracts common sense—the popularunderstanding of reality in everyday life~see Geertz@1975# 1983; Black 1979a!. Rarelyare we scientific about our families, lovers, friends, or colleagues.34 Instead we endowthem with free will and utter an unending stream of untestable ideas about the unobserv-able content of their minds.35 And who is scientific about the behavior of God? Surely notthose close to God who pray as inferiors for favors or forgiveness~see Black 1995: 856–857, 860!. Never are we less scientific, however, than about ourselves. A similar lack ofscienticity applies to subjects totally alien to us. Consider the explanation of human behavior.

Common sense ignores science and says that our closest subjects, such as our nearestassociates and ourselves, have free will and do as they please. They are not mere productsof their environment. Nor are those in distant societies and the distant past. The reason isthat the explanation of human behavior with free will—voluntarism—occurs under con-ditions opposite those of scienticity:Voluntarism is a U-curvilinear function of socialdistance from the subject~compare Black 1995: 856, note 137; Fuchs and Marshall 1998:18–22!. The same applies to teleology, the explanation of anything as a means to an end.When all subjects were either very close or very distant, teleology dominated all science.Copernicus, for example, even had a teleological theory of gravity:

Gravity is nothing else than a natural appetency, given to the parts by the DivineProvidence of the Maker of the universe, in order that they may establish their unityand wholeness by combining in the form of a sphere. It is probable that this affectionalso belongs to the sun, moon, and the planets, in order that they may . . . remain intheir roundness~quoted in Mason 1962: 130!.

But teleology in the natural sciences steadily declined during the past several centuries~see Burtt 1954: 18–19; Feuer 1982: 352; Black 1995: 861–863!. It survives mainly in thehuman sciences such as sociology and psychology.

The explanation of human behavior with factors beyond the control of the person—determinism—occurs under the same conditions as scienticity:Determinism is a curvilin-ear function of social distance from the subject~compare idem: 856, note 137!. Deterministicexplanation implies that people cannot behave otherwise than they do. They lack the freewill of our intimates and ourselves.

Even close nonhumans are endowed with free will. People close to nonhuman animals~such as their research subjects or domestic pets! often speak of them as if they werehumans and explain their behavior as a free choice~see, e.g., de Waal 1989, 1996; see also

34Simmel notes an incompatibility between intimacy and generality, most extreme in the case of lovers: “In thestage of first passion, erotic relations strongly reject any thought of generalization: The lovers think that there hasnever been a love like theirs, that nothing can be compared either to the person loved or to the feelings for thatperson”~@1908# 1950: 406, punctuation edited!. The same applies to every element of scienticity in every closerelationship: Scientists are unscientific about their colleagues, for instance, and sociologists are unsociologicalabout fellow sociologists.

35The theory of the subject includes the subject’s subjectivity—psychological experience. Although we cannotdirectly observe subjectivity, we can observe its attribution by others~including self-attributions!. These attribu-tions are predictable and explainable with their location and direction in social space. The goal or purposeattributed to a person’s action depends, for example, on the social closeness and elevation of the action. We canthereby predict and explain attributions of subjectivity in social science as well as everyday life. The sameapplies to the goals and purposes attributed to groups.


Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 21–22!. Tribal people and others close to nature likewise attributefeelings and choices to the animals they hunt, fish, and farm, and to close insects, crops,and trees~see, e.g., Frazer@1890# 1981, Volume 1: 60–108; Volume 2: 90–147!. TheOjibwa of southern Canada say that trees feel pain and wail when cut, for instance, andsome Indonesian tribes and European peasants beg the pardon of the trees they fell~idem,Volume 1: 58–61!. Modern people, including scientists, may adopt the same style towardclose nonhumans: “My Boston fern looks unhappy. It must want some water”~see alsoKeller 1983a: 198–200!. One physicist even speaks of electrons and other atomic particlesthat “want to do this or that”~Christopher Stevens, personal communication!.

Social status is also relevant to the explanation of human behavior:Voluntarism is adirect function of the social elevation of the subject~Black 1995: 856, note 137!. Andcontrariwise:Determinism is an inverse function of the social elevation of the subject~idem!. Common sense says that social elites such as kings and generals freely choose toact as they do. So does God. But sociology says that the poor and lowly lack free will:Forces beyond their control determine their behavior~e.g., Cohen 1955; Miller 1958!. Therich who exploit or otherwise victimize the poor have free will, then, but not the poor whovictimize the rich.36

THE THEORY OF THEORY

Common sense says that theories derive from facts. But philosopher Karl Popper long agoobserved that a theory can never be logically deduced from the facts it explains: Theso-called logical induction of a theory is impossible~@1934# 1968: 27–32; see also Witt-genstein@1921# 1961: 143!. He added more generally that “there is no such thing as alogical method of having new ideas”~idem: 32!. Creativity is always necessary~idem!.Albert Einstein makes a similar point about scientific laws: “There is no logical path leadingto these laws; only intuition, resting on sympathetic understanding of experience, can reachthem”~@1923# 1934: 22; see also Friedman 1953: 42–43!.37 Biologist Peter Medawar notesthat because a theory contains more information than the facts it explains, it cannot be de-duced from facts alone~1963: 377!. Philosopher Paul Feyerabend goes further and arguesthat no rules or methods of any kind can assure the advancement of science, theoretical orotherwise~1975; compare, e.g., Glaser and Strauss 1967; Stinchcombe 1968!.

Yet scientific theory is human behavior, and nothing excludes the possibility of explain-ing scientific theory scientifically—as a natural phenomenon. A theory of theory specifies

36A sociological version of voluntarism is phenomenology—the explanation of human behavior from withinthe subjective experience of a person. Sociology is more phenomenological when the subject is closer andhigher in social space:Phenomenology is a joint function of the social closeness and superiority of the subject~see Black 1995: 856, note 137!. A sociological version of determinism is motivational theory—the explana-tion of human behavior with the psychological impact of social forces. Sociology is more motivational when the sub-ject is farther away and lower in social space:Motivational theory is a joint function of the social remoteness andinferiority of the subject. These formulations predict, for example, a more phenomenological explanation of closerand higher crimes such as those of professionals and business people~“white-collar crime”!, but a more motiva-tional explanation of farther and lower crimes such as those of poor minorities~“blue-collar crime”! ~idem!.

We can also explain the explanatory variables in sociological theories. For example, some motivational theoriesexplain human behavior with variables close to the behavior in space and time, such as theories that explainhuman behavior with peer pressure—the direct and immediate influence of one’s associates. Other motivationaltheories explain human behavior with more distant variables, such as theories that explain human behavior withthe cultural values of a society. More distant subjects attract more distant explanations:The spatial and temporaldistance of an explanatory variable is a direct function of social distance from the subject. We thus explain thebehavior of our intimates with variables close to them in space and time~such as their own intentions!, but weexplain the behavior of strangers with more distant variables~such as the values of their society!. BecauseFreudian psychotherapists are somewhat close to their patients, they explain the patient’s behavior with closeinfluences~in the family!, but because they are also somewhat distant, their explanations pertain to familyexperiences in the distant past~in early childhood!.

37A scientific law is an idea with an extremely high degree of scienticity—testability, generality, simplicity,validity, and originality.


the conditions that lead to the creation of scientific theory, including itself~see Black1995: 856, note 137!. The theory of scienticity sketched above implies such a theory.

Scientific theory is the most scientific science. Only theory can attain all the elements ofthehighestdegreeofscienticity—testability, generality, simplicity, validity,andoriginality—atonce.The best conditions for scienticity are therefore the best conditions for scientific theory.38

The theory of scienticity explains why some sciences and scientists are more theoretical thanothers, and has practical value as well: It is a theory that implies how to develop theory.

The theory of scienticity implies that theory is a curvilinear function of social distancefrom the subject. We can thereby explain why the physical sciences have the most theorywith a high degree of scienticity while the social sciences have the least. The physicalsciences have more theory because their subjects are more distant~while still close enoughto be observable!. Subjects in the social sciences are often too close or too far away. Withineach science as well, some scientists are more theoretical because their subjects have abetter theoretical location in social space. The same theory explains the lack of theorybeyond formal science, such as the lack of theory in tribal and other simple societies.Tribal societies do not lack descriptive science~such as botany or zoology! but only theo-retical science—explanations of their observations~Lingis 1994: 1–2!. The reason is thattribal reality is polarized: Virtually everything is either entirely local or entirely foreign,too close or too far away for the development of scientific theory.

Most scientists never invent theory either, especially theory with a high degree of sci-enticity. The reason is that most do research.39 Researchers theoretically incapacitate them-selves by becoming too intimate with their subjects. Many have an exclusive relationshipwith a single subject and disregard almost everything else. One eminent biologist~knownfor her observations of genetic mobility! speaks almost maternally of the corn plants shestudied for decades: “I start with the seedling, and I don’t want to leave it. I don’t feel Ireally know the story if I don’t watch the plant all the way along. So I know every plant inthe field. I know them intimately, and I find it a great pleasure to know them”~BarbaraMcClintock, quoted in Keller 1983a: 198; see also Keller 1985b: 164–165!. Another biol-ogist ~who later stopped doing research and became more theoretical! notes that years ofexperiments made his enzymes “as familiar as old friends”~Kauffman 1995: 81, 99!. Stillanother speaks romantically of cells: “Here is a cell. It has been going around all the time,and nobody has taken any notice of it. Suddenly you fall in love with it. Why? You, thescientist, don’t know you’re falling in love, but suddenly you become attracted to that cell”~Anna Brito, pseudonym, quoted in Goodfield@1981# 1982: 226!.

Although celebrated theorists may do research in their early years, their theoriesusually appear only after they become full-time theorists. Many have no researchexperience at all. The most celebrated theories in physics, for instance, were largely de-veloped by full-time theorists such as Albert Einstein, Niels Bohr, and Werner Heisen-berg.40 The same applies to cosmology, the most theoretical field of astronomy. Biolo-gists James Watson and Francis Crick likewise developed a theoretical model of the DNAmolecule~central to the understanding of genetic inheritance! without doing any of theirown research on the subject~Crick 1988: 65!. The revolutionary theory of continentaldrift in geology was not even formulated by a geologist, but by astronomer and meteo-

38“Theory” hereafter refers to ideas with a comparatively high degree of scienticity. Exceptions are apparent inthe text.

39By “research” I mean primary research—the gathering of data and production of findings.40About one-half of all particle physicists are full-time theorists; the rest are experimentalists~Traweek 1988: 3!.

The only experiments some theorists conduct are so-called thought experiments—by which they imagine empir-ical reality under hypothetical conditions never actually observed. Einstein, for example, is famous for his exper-imental fantasies~see, e.g., Miller 1996: 312–320!.


rologist Alfred Wegener~Cohen 1985: 446–450!. Major theorists also typically follow anomadic way of scientific life, moving from subject to subject, never too close to any.41

Youth is an advantage for the same reason: It limits intimacy with the subject~sug-gested by Roberta Senechal de la Roche!. Darwin was 29 years old when he formulatedthe theory of natural selection, for example; Einstein was 26 when he published the spe-cial theory of relativity; and Heisenberg was 23 when he initiated the theory of quantummechanics and 25 when he propounded his famous uncertainty principle that ended clas-sical causality in particle physics~Pais 1991: 275–276, 304–306; see also Simonton 1984:Chapter 6!. Watson and Crick were newcomers to molecular biology when they formulatedthe structure of DNA: Watson was a postdoctoral fellow only 24 years old, while Crick wasa graduate student of 36 who had migrated to the field from physics~Watson@1968# 1969;Crick 1988: 6, 65!. In theoretical science, too much experience may be harmful.

Social isolation is another condition conducive to the highest achievements in science—tooriginality, for example~also called creativity, imagination, innovation, and inventive-ness!. Philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer long ago observed that “The genius lives essen-tially alone. He is too rare to be easily capable of coming across his like, and too differentfrom the rest to be their companion”~@1859# 1969, Volume 2: 390!. Philosopher MichelSerres similarly remarks that originality “always takes place in solitude, independence,and freedom”—relational isolation~@1990# 1995: 37; see also 81–82; Storr 1988!. Alsoimportant are cultural isolation~such as the marginality of migrants or minorities! andfunctional isolation~exclusive involvement in a single activity!: Creativity is a directfunction of social isolation. In this respect, moreover, the social structure of theory differsconsiderably from the social structure of research.

Scientific research typically occurs in social networks of colleagues known in the soci-ology of science as “invisible colleges”~see generally Crane 1972!. Often research is ateam project that includes a number of individuals working closely together in the sameorganization~see, e.g., Collins 1975: Chapter 9; Whitley 1984; Fuchs 1992: Chapter 7!.But such research is relatively routine—what Thomas Kuhn calls “normal science”~1962:Chapters 2–4!. Rarely does it lead to creativity of the highest degree, such as the devel-opment of revolutionary theories. Far from it. As one fictional scientist remarks, “Highlyorganized research is guaranteed to produce nothing new”~Herbert@1965# 1990: 496!.Instead, the most acclaimed theories occur under opposite conditions—in isolated loca-tions in social space. Consider the most illustrious thinkers—the Newtons, Einsteins,Nietzsches, and Wittgensteins—at the height of their creativity. All were loners devoted totheir own projects.42 In their early years their new ideas isolated them all the more.

The theory of scienticity—and the theory of theory it implies—pertains not only to thecreation of scientific ideas but to their acceptance and application by others. The sociallocation of the most receptive audiences, including those most receptive to radically newideas, is the same as the social location of the sources: those comparatively distant fromthe subject. For this reason, young people and other newcomers to a field~including stu-dents! more readily accept and apply its newest and most scientific ideas~suggested byRoberta Senechal de la Roche!. Scientific revolutions primarily attract the support ofyounger scientists while their senior colleagues cling to older ideas about their older sub-

41Weber notes that “dilettantes” without close knowledge of a subject often outperform “specialists” in thedevelopment of theory: “Many of our very best hypotheses and insights are due precisely to dilettantes”~@1919#1958: 135–136!.

42Although social isolation is conducive to creativity, it is not conducive to the success of creative work:Because social isolation has a low elevation and distant location in social space, isolated ideas are less likely tosucceed than ideas in social networks~see section above entitled “What Is Important?”!. But sponsorship by amore integrated person or network may win recognition for an isolated idea that might otherwise be ignored~seealso Latour 1987; compare Collins 1998!.


jects ~see, e.g., Feuer 1982!. When the audience is too close to the subject, the greatestadvances in science meet indifference if not resistance and hostility~see, e.g., Barber1961; see also Black 1976: 82!.

All the above applies equally to social scientists: Least theoretical are researchers longintimate with a single subject in a particular time and place, such as anthropologists whostudy a single tribe or area, historians who study a single period of a single society orregion, and sociologists who study a single topic in their own society and time. Especiallydamaging to the creation and reception of theory is participant observation or other closecontact with the subject~see Cooney 1988: 22; Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 18!. Closenessto a human subject breeds an involvement with the subject’s mind and undermines thecreation of ideas with a high degree of testability, generality, and other attributes of scien-ticity ~see Black 1995: 856, note 137; see also Fuchs and Marshall 1998: 18–21!. If you areclose enough to imagine the subjectivity of a subject, you are probably too close to betheoretical.

Yet most sociologists know their subject only in their own society and time and havelittle information about anything else. Those who study inequality or religion or violencein modern America, for example, rarely know anything about these subjects in tribal,ancient, medieval, or other societies unlike their own. As noted earlier, classical sociolo-gists were more cosmopolitan: They exploited information from numerous societies acrosshistory. They were nomadic as well, moving from one topic, place, and time to another~compare Brekhus 1998: 47–48!. Most modern sociologists are too close to their subject todevelop theory comparable to classical theory.

Researchers often criticize theorists for not doing research, and theorists oftencriticize researchers for not doing theory. But such criticisms are unsociological. Re-searchers and theorists have opposite locations in social space: Research is close toits subject and sedentary while theory is more distant and nomadic. It is difficult to doboth at once.

But not all modern sociologists are too close to their subject to develop scientifictheory. Some are too far away. The prolific theorist Talcott Parsons did virtually no re-search and moved nomadically from subject to subject~see, e.g., 1951, 1954!. Even so,he did not exploit or explain the findings of other sociologists, anthropologists, or his-torians. Distant enough from his subject to be theoretical, he was nonetheless too distantto achieve a high degree of scienticity: He produced only general concepts and classifi-cations rather than testable formulations, and his writings have little value to researchers.Another prolific theorist, Niklas Luhmann, was similarly uninvolved in factual realityand produced similarly unscientific theory. Researchers were useless to him, and his writ-ings are equally useless to them~see, e.g.,@1984# 1995, 1990!. Theorists such as Parsonsand Luhmann promiscuously publish thousands of theoretical pages, a mode of scholar-ship possible only when the actual behavior of the subject is irrelevant. Each published asmall library, but neither owns a single formulation that meets all the standards of scien-ticity.43 Still less scientific are those who write only about the writings of earlier sociol-

43Scientific productivity is often measured with publications. But scienticity varies inversely with the numberof pages published by an author. Albert Einstein’s special theory of relativity appears in a paper only 30 pageslong; Charles Darwin’s first statement of the theory of natural selection~with independent co-discoverer AlfredRussel Wallace! is only 17 pages long; James Watson and Francis Crick’s structural model of DNA is only onepage long~with double columns!; and Max Born’s major contribution to quantum theory—the probability con-cept in quantum mechanics—appears in a footnote~Pais 1991: 285–286!. A better measure of scientific produc-tivity is the number of testable, general, simple, valid, and original formulations in an author’s work—its scienticity.By this measure Max Weber, for instance, would do poorly. When not merely historical, his work is mainlyconceptual rather than explanatory. Emile Durkheim does better, though his total number of testable and generalformulations is probably fewer than ten.The Division of Labor~@1893# 1964! has two—both wrong~see Black1987: 568!. Suicide~@1897# 1951! has four~counting one in a footnote!.


ogists~e.g., Poggi 1972; Lukes 1973; Bierstedt 1981; Alexander 1982–83!. The historyof sociology is not even sociology.

Every epistemology reflects the social structure of its subject. Many sociologists endorsethe pessimistic epistemology of sociology that flowered in Germany over a century ago:Sociology was classified as one of the cultural sciences~KulturwissenschaftenorGeisteswissenschaften! whose human subjects were claimed to differ fundamentally fromthe subjects of astronomy, physics, and other natural sciences~Naturwissenschaften!. Humansubjects allegedly lie beyond the reach of genuine science and forever condemn the cul-tural sciences to scientific failure~see, e.g., Ringer 1997: Chapters 1–2!. One modernsociologist declares, for example, that the pursuit of sociology in the manner of naturalscience is “misguided” and “utopian”~Alexander 1987: 22–23!. Sociology cannot evenestablish a fact, much less a theory about human behavior: “From the most specific factualstatements up to the most abstract generalizations, social science is essentially contestable.Every conclusion is open to argument”~idem: 25!. Social science is ideological as well—inherently evaluative: “The ideological implications of social science redound to the verydescriptions of the objects of investigation themselves”~idem: 21!. Another modern soci-ologist remarks that “a century’s experience now suggests” a truly “scientific theoreticalsociology” is “beyond anyone’s grasp”~Turner 1996: 15!.

These philosophers of failure assume that all sociology has a close subject, includinghuman thoughts and feelings. They believe it must address “either mental states or condi-tions in which mental states are embedded,” and “any generalization about the structure orcauses of a social phenomenon . . . depends on some conception of the motives involved”~Alexander 1987: 21, 29; see also Winch 1958; Homans 1964, 1967: Chapters 2–3!. Yetthey themselves commonly contemplate human behavior from afar, without facts aboutanything. Their scientific pessimism reflects the unscientific location of their subject: tooclose or too far away.

* * *

Now consider the methodological implications: Do you wish to develop sociologicaltheory with a high degree of scienticity? If so, my theory of scienticity can help yousucceed. It specifies social locations especially attractive to scientific theory: subjectsneither too close nor too far. It implies several rules of theoretical method—sociologicalrules that enhance your chances of being successful.44 They tell you where to go and whatto do. Obey these commandments:

1. Leave home:Find subjects in other times and places.2. Be a nomad:Move from subject to subject.3. Be a parasite:Subsist on the findings of others.4. Avoid intimacy:Do not get too close to your subject.5. Avoid people: Study social life.

44Because they specify a means to an end, Durkheim would classify these methodological rules as “rules oftechnique”~@1906# 1953: 42!. Their violation reduces the likelihood of sociological theory with a high degree ofscienticity.

Feyerabend argues against all methodological rules in science: Scientific progress requires creativity, andcreativity does not obey rules~1975: especially 10, 23, 27–28!. But he does not consider the possibility of ascientific theory that implies how to develop scientific theory or encourage creativity~compare Serres@1990#1995: 86!.


THE THEORY OF ITSELF

I dreamed of pure sociology, and my dreams came true. Pure sociology explains why.45 Itcame into being where science and theory flourish: neither too close nor too far from thesubject.

First I stopped doing research. I left my society, and I left the present. I began reading an-thropology and history, wandering across social space from one place and time to another.Soon I discovered a strange and mysterious subject: the behavior of law. It was an unfamiliarform of life that everywhere obeyed its own principles. It attracted a high degree of scien-ticity as well as a new sociology—without psychology, teleology, or people. Pure sociology.

I lost contact with the classical tradition and became a stranger to my fellow sociolo-gists. I studied the behavior of science and the behavior of sociology itself. Then came ascientific theory of why most sociology is so unscientific and a theory of why it has solittle theory: Most has an unscientific and untheoretical location—either too close or toofar from its subject. Most sociologists study only their own society in their own time.Others sit in armchairs and do not study reality at all. Whether too close or too far, fewbelieve that sociology is really a science or that sociological laws are possible. They blamethe complexity of human behavior, they blame subjectivity, and they blame free will. Butthe problem is the social structure of their own sociology: They study only themselves, ornothing. The subject is hopeless.

THE GHOST OF THE PERSON

What does it all mean?

We are agents of countless forms of social life fluctuating across the social universe. Weobey principles we do not know and cannot change. Our actions are social, chosen no morethan we chose to be born. Our ideas are social as well, attracted by the social structure ofour lives. We conform to the shape of social space. Geometry is destiny.

Who, then, is speaking?

I am the voice of pure sociology. I speak a new language. I travel social space, habitatof social beings, a form of life both human and unhuman. I explore unknown locations,calculate distances in uncharted directions, measure quantities never counted. My subjectis everything, I go everywhere, and I live in the past, present, and future at once.46

I am sociology becoming itself. I study the behavior of social life, the laws of law, thelaws of art, the laws of God. I am the science of science, the theory of theory.

I myself am social, and I predict myself. I am post-personal. Post-human.47

And I am notorious.I killed the person.I am the end of the classical tradition.The end of Western thought.48

45Luhmann regards a theory as “universal” only if it “claims to be able to describe every phenomenon in itsfield,” including “itself” ~quoted in Sciulli 1994: 54!. It must be “self-referential”~@1984# 1995: xlvii!. Yet hespeaks only of what a theory can “describe”—not what it can explain. His own theory can classify many things,including itself, but it cannot explain itself or anything else.

46Norman Mailer on Picasso’s Cubist paintings: “One had to find a way to paint works that would embody past,present, and future all in one”~1995: 311; see also 310; Ball@1927# 1996: 43; Mondrian@1938–44# 1986: 362;Snyder 1974a: 88; 1974b: 114!. Scientific theory with the highest degree of generality is timeless and placelessas well.

47The concept of post-human derives from Douglas Coupland~1996: 85!.48Suggested by Roberta Senechal de la Roche. The Western tradition of humanism places the person at the

center of the universe. Pure sociology makes the person irrelevant.


But you said you dreamed of pure sociology. What is a dream? What science is this? Whattheory? It sounds like a person. It is just common sense.

Remember the theory of the subject: I am talking about myself.The subject is very close, and science is forbidden.The structure is commonsensical.The structure even dreams.

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