praxis pietatis: a tribute to edward shils

P r a x i s P i e t a t i s : A T r i b u t e to E d w a r d S h i l s

LIAHGREENFELD

The p r e p a r a t i o n of this l ec tu re m a d e m e real ize o n c e again, and p e r h a p s m o r e c lear ly than ever , the p o w e r of Cul ture o v e r us. W h e n I w a s a p p r o a c h e d last

sp r ing a b o u t the title o f a p r o p o s e d seminar , I had just r e t u r n e d f r o m a m e m o r i a l

se rv ice , he ld at the Univers i ty of Chicago , for P ro fesso r Edward Shils, a g rea t

soc io log i s t w h o d ied on J a n u a r y 23 this year , and I i m m e d i a t e l y said tha t I w o u l d de l ive r a l ec tu re to h o n o r his m e m o r y . Since his life was d e d i c a t e d to the s tudy

of cu l tu re , "Cul ture and Civil izat ion" a p p e a r e d an a p p r o p r i a t e rubr ic , bu t I had

no idea w h a t I w o u l d talk about , w h i c h exac t ly of the m a n y t h e m e s in his w o r k I w o u l d evoke , or, m o s t impor t an t ly , w h y m w h a t f o r m w a s I do ing this? After the fact , o n e can c o m e up wi th any n u m b e r of reasons . My r easons migh t be peda - gogical : a d i scuss ion of "Cul ture and Civil ization" cou ld not p r o p e r l y p r o c e e d

w i t h o u t an a t t e m p t to u n d e r s t a n d w h a t - - i n f a c t - - c u l t u r e is, to d e v e l o p a gen-

eral t h e o r y of ct t l ture; Edward Shils had d e v e l o p e d the t h o r o u g h e s t - - t h e m o s t

ser ious , careful , and s e a r c h i n g - - s u c h theory . I also migh t have a p e r s o n a l rea-

son: Edward Shils was a ve ry i m p o r t a n t man in my life; his dea th w a s a g rea t loss; I have not c o m e to gr ips w i t h it so far; ta lking a b o u t h im m a k e s m e feel as if, in a way, I am still ta lking to h i m w t h i s lec ture , t he r e fo re , cou ld have a

t h e r a p e u t i c func t ion . But the fact is tha t t hese w e r e not the reasons . My dec i s ion

was no t a resul t o f r e a s o n i n g at all" I s imply felt I o w e d it to this n o w dead man , w h o w o u l d n e v e r k n o w w h e t h e r I did this or not . I k n e w this w a s the r ight

th ing to do. It was w h a t Max W e b e r cal led a value-ra t ional ac t ion , w h o s e r e w a r d lay in itself, b e c a u s e it was in t r ins ical ly moral . In brief , I was i m p e l l e d by a fo r ce

far g r e a t e r t han me , the Cul ture o f w h i c h I am a part .

Edward Shils d ied at the age of e ighty-four . A m o n t h b e f o r e his d e a t h he g r a d e d the p a p e r s f r o m his last seminar . He was still w o r k i n g on the draf ts o f his o w n last essays. He s ta r t ed to wr i t e and t each in the 1930s; his c a r e e r had

Liah Greenfeld is a University Professor and Professor of Sociology and Political Science at Boston University. She had prepared this lecture for the interdisciplinary seminar of The University Professors (ID500), where it was delivered on October 16, 1995. Address for correspondence: Liah Greenfeld, Boston University, The University Professor Program, 745 Commonwealth Ave., Boston, MA, 02215.

Greenfeld 67

s p a n n e d m o r e t han s ixty years . In its course , he w o r k e d on f r e e d o m in t e a c h i n g

and r e s e a r c h in the social sc iences ; on c o h e s i o n in the G e r m a n , Amer i can , and

Soviet a rmies ; on in te l lec tua l s in India and var ious o t h e r Asian and Afr ican coun-

tries; on vir tual ly eve ry a s p e c t o f cul ture : ideology, sc ience , l i t e ra ture , o f the

m o d e r n W e s t e r n socie ty . A Festschrift for P ro fe s so r Shils, p u b l i s h e d in 1977,

was en t i t l ed , tel l ingly, Culture and Its Creators. In add i t ion to h u n d r e d s o f

ar t icles , he p u b l i s h e d severa l m o n o g r a p h s , inc luding, in 1981, a b o o k on the

na tu re of t radi t ion, and severa l v o l u m e s o f c o l l e c t e d essays, a m o n g t h e m Center and Periphery, w h i c h e l abo ra t ed on this ve ry inf luent ial set o f m e t a p h o r s , w h i c h f o r m s the co re o f his t heo re t i ca l vision. He n e v e r c o m p l e t e d his m a g n u m opus ,

Movements o f Knowledge, w h i c h was to reveal the c o n c l u s i o n s of his l ife-long

s tudy. He left e igh t ve r s ions o f this work , t h o u s a n d s of pages , bu t did no t feel , to the end, tha t he had r e a c h e d the u n d e r s t a n d i n g that he sought . As a resul t ,

w e do no t real ly k n o w w h a t he w o u l d have c o n c l u d e d , w h a t w e have are just in t imat ions .

It is n e i t h e r poss ib l e no r n e c e s s a r y to s u m m a r i z e t h e m in a f e w minu tes . I

h o p e tha t s o m e o f y o u will t rus t m e that it will be ve ry m u c h w o r t h y o u r wh i l e

to read his b o o k s on y o u r own . Every th ing he w r o t e was t r e m e n d o u s l y sugges-

t ive, inspir ing; it c o n v e y e d an u n m i s t a k a b l e sense tha t o n e was t o u c h i n g u p o n ,

a p p r o a c h i n g s o m e t h i n g ve ry i m p o r t a n t , s o m e t h i n g ser ious and v i t a l - - " s e r i o u s -

ness" and "vitali ty" w e r e t w o of Shils 's favor i te words . He h i m s e l f - - i n his teach-

ing, in his daily c o m m u n i c a t i o n s w i th p e o p l e , w h i c h w e r e n e v e r too far a w a y f r o m t e a c h i n g - - a l s o c o n v e y e d this sense. T h e r e was s o m e t h i n g ve ry d i s t inc t ive

a b o u t Shils as a h u m a n being. One felt in the p r e s e n c e of a g rea t man . It w a s no t just s i t t ing at the fee t of a mas te r , or a very f a m o u s individual , t h o u g h he

o b v i o u s l y was ve ry famous , and for s o m e p e o p l e he was a mas te r . I myself , I

m u s t confess , n e v e r saw h im tha t way, b e c a u s e m u c h of w h a t he had to say I c o n s i d e r e d mis taken . (I t may be a r rogan t o f me to say this now, bu t I w a n t to

be hones t , and I be l i eve he k n e w this a b o u t m e in any case . ) But, I felt this

g r e a t n e s s a b o u t h im all the s ame and all the t ime. I k n e w h im fo r a shor t t ime, w h i c h was n e v e r t h e l e s s l o n g - - t w e l v e years . Dur ing these years he n e v e r o n c e

d i s a p p o i n t e d me, n e v e r m a d e m e lose the sense of b e i n g in the living p r e s e n c e o f s o m e t h i n g ex t r ao rd ina ry , i m p o r t a n t , and au thor i t a t ive . After he died, I t r ied

to u n d e r s t a n d w h a t it was . And n o w I know: it was his o w n f i rm c o n v i c t i o n that he w a s c o n s t a n t l y in c o m m u n i c a t i o n w i th a t r anscenden t a l , h ighe r reali ty, his

s ense o f du ty t o w a r d s it, and of e l ec t i on by it to r e p r e s e n t , p r e s e r v e , and trans- mi t it. His life was a life o f service . This g r a n d e r reali ty, w h i c h he c o n s c i o u s l y

and un t i r ing ly se rved was Cul ture , T r a d i t i o n - - n o t any speci f ic , this o r tha t cul-

tu re or t radi t ion, bu t b o t h in the i r m o s t genera l mean ing . It was his c o m p l e t e

d e d i c a t i o n to the se rv ice of a h ighe r real i ty tha t m a d e o n e feel in the p r e s e n c e

of s o m e t h i n g g rea t w h e n nea r him. It was his acu te c o n s c i o u s n e s s tha t this was a h ighe r real i ty tha t e x p l a i n e d his ded ica t ion .

T h e w o r k that Shils was do ing was a w o r k of reve la t ion , he was t r y i n g - - a l l his life, ce r t a in ly in the last fo r ty years of his l i f e - - t o revea l the na tu re or

e s s e n c e of Cul ture . Obvious ly , he was c o n v i n c e d that his w o r k w a s t r emen-

68 The American Sociologist/Winter 1996

dously impor tant (it is for this reason that he was so very demanding of him- se l f - -no th ing but per fec t ion would do!); he had a sense of calling in the literal

in terpre ta t ion of the word, and his consciousness of it, it seems to me, was not c louded by doubt. He was explicit , even naive about his election. He spoke, for example, on numerous occasions jokingly, and yet only half-jokingly, of himself as a Pope or even a possible saint of soc io logymthat is of that higher reality of which sociology, to him, represented a theology or, perhaps, a religion; he p roposed that, after his death, which, when I knew him, was never too far away, he might be called St. Shils, savoring the name, rolling it on the tongue, as if trying it on. A person of Jewish background and an adherent of no recognized religion (he character ized himself as "a pious agnostic," though, of course, he was an agnostic only in a very special, unconvent ional sense, of which I shall speak later), he had a great respect for the Pope, both the person of John Paul II, I suppose, and the office of the Vicar of Christ; he felt an affinity with this office, and one of his last voyages was an exhaust ing trans-Atlantic trip, under- taken just months before he died, to at tend a confe rence with the Pope at Castelgandolfo.

Because he did not doubt his calling, he doubted his mortality. He did not believe he could die before his mission was accomplished. Only weeks before his death, already very weak, he assured me on the phone that he expec t ed to live for another four years, because he estimated he still had another four years of work left. He did not see himself as alone, but as one of a group of the elect, to w h o m and to whose work he felt an immediate connect ion; this group, unlike o ther groups, did not suffer from attrition by natural causes: after their deaths, its members lived on, perhaps they lived on in Shils--this was yet ano ther sense in which he felt as a part, and a custodian, of tradition. Several years earlier I

had a glimpse of the moment of transmission of tradition, of Shils taking on the custody from a dying fellow-elect. I came to his office just after he received the news of the death of Raymond Aron, another great sociologist, the great French thinker and Shils's close friend of many years. He was, obviously, very dis- traught. We had to be somewhere for some kind of an engagement and walked slowly in the appointed direction, talking. He was speaking of the generat ion of social thinkers of which both he and Aron were members, grand old men each and every one of them, irrespective of their ages, and came to the conclusion that only four of them, including himself, were still alive. At this point, he abruptly s topped, said, UThis means that some work needs to be done. Goodbye, Mrs. Greenfeld," turned around, left me standing with my mouth still open, and briskly walked home, where the work was waiting.His awareness of connec t ion with people long since dead, whom he never knew personally, was equally acute. It is as if the same blood was circulating though their and his veins, which, in a certain sense, was literally true. This connec t ion was made strikingly vivid to me one day when he decided to share with his seminar a dream he had had. In this dream, Shils was wander ing in the corridors of an old German castle. In a niche by the nar row window in one of them, he not iced a man sitting and writ ing at a desk of the kind one would imagine was used by Faust; and this

G r e e n f e l d 69

man, Shils real ized, was Max Weber . Professor Shils, w h o was at the t ime perhaps seventy-five years old, corpulent , even pudgy, a gourmand w h o never bo the red

to c onc e a l or res t ra in his en thus iasm for g o o d f o o d - - I w an t you to p i c tu r e t h i s - - t i p t o e d to the great man 's desk and s tood there , ho ld ing his brea th , hesi- tant to speak. Some m o m e n t s passed. Then W e b e r lifted his eyes, t o o k a long look at Shils, and said: "I a p p r o v e of wha t you are doing."

Weber , for Shils, was the e x e m p l a r y s tuden t of cu l tu re as such, in its genera l sense. He was seeking, Shils be l ieved, the same essent ial k n o w l e d g e of it tha t

Shils h imse l f was seeking, and advanced very far towards having it, bu t not far enough . Shils was called to c o n t i n u e Webe r ' s quest; W e b e r ' s approva l c o n f i r m e d Shils's c o n v i c t i o n of calling.

This ques t was a ques t for Truth , bu t in a di f ferent , poss ib ly m o re p r o f o u n d , sense than in sc ience; Shils, I am sure now, looked for ul t imate meaning. Re- markably , he t r ied to find this mean ing t h r o u g h sc ience . He d e v o t e d his life to

the s tudy of cu l ture , bu t in his mind it, early and p e r h a p s impercep t ib ly , b e c a m e reif ied, and he be l ieved in it as one bel ieves in God; he s tudied and w o r s h i p p e d it at the same t ime, like N e w t o n - - w h o was a fe rven t ly be l ieving Chr i s t i an - - s tud ied na tu re and w o r s h i p e d God in it at the same t ime. For Shils, as fo r N e w t o n , the s tudy o f empir ica l real i ty was at the same t ime a serv ice o f adora- t ion; he was an agnos t ic only in the sense in w h i c h N e w t o n was an agnost ic , tha t he did no t possess the essent ial k n o w l e d g e of his deity, of w h o s e ex i s t en ce he was neve r the l e s s cer ta in and w h o s e p r e s e n c e he cons tan t ly felt. He ve ry p rec i se ly cha rac t e r i zed h imsel f as a "pious agnost ic ." He was a social scient is t

w h o s e e rud i t ion was immense and w h o s e p o w e r s o f p e r c e p t i o n w e r e astonishing, bu t at the same t ime he was def in i te ly so m e th in g o f a re l igious figure. He was a grea t t e a c h e r in a rel igious sense, a kind of a sociological p r o p h e t ; he was

r e n o w n e d no t on ly for his pene t r a t i ng analyses, bu t for the s t r eng th o f his c o n v i c t i o n s - - n o t a character is t ic of a scholar as s u c h - - a t the University of Chicago, he was for decades k n o w n as ~the c o n s c i e n c e of the Universi ty ." Indeed , schol- arship, inc luding sc ience , and mora l i ty w e r e n ev e r separa te in his mind: schol- arship was intr insical ly moral because , he be l ieved, it t o u c h e d on the "ser ious ," and for tha t r eason he was no t mere ly impa t ien t w i th bad s c h o l a r s - - e s p e c i a l l y

those w h o be t r ayed the values of d i s in te res ted pursu i t o f k n o w l e d g e for any reason at a l l - - h e c o n s i d e r e d t h e m a moral outrage; bad schola rsh ip was no t just wor th les s , it was a sin. His life, w h i c h was his work , was a life of piety: praxis pietatis. He nc e , the title of this lec ture . A t r ibu te to his m e m o r y , it is also an act o f p ie ty in a way, a p r o o f that he was, in a large measure , r ight, tha t cu l tu re is a reali ty, a power fu l , c rea t ive fo rce b e y o n d us, compe l l ing us to do things the me a n ing of w h i c h we might not fully unders tand .

Earlier I said that it wou ld be imposs ib le to summar ize Shils's v iews on the coun t l e s s subjects abou t w h i c h he wro te , and i n d eed it is. Wha t I shall t ry to do

is to i n t e r p r e t his theore t i ca l vision and to p lace him in the grand socio logica l t radi t ion, w h i c h he car r ied on a lmost s ingle-handedly and pe r son i f i ed dur ing the last ha l f cen tu ry . As I am doing this, I shall rumina te on the c o n c e p t o f cu l tu re ( rumina t ion , Shils taught me, is a ve ry useful in te l lectual exerc i se ) . It may no t


lead us very far, but even so, inspired by the example of Edward Shils, provoked by his ideas, it is the best homage to him, and at the very least it will keep his tradition alive for a little while longer. As such, it is also praxis pietatis.

Culture and civilization, the subject of this unit, understood in their general meaning, rather than as the terms of a specific dispute between German and other Romantics and the heirs of the Enlightenment, is the focus, the very subject matter of sociology. Most sociologists, of course, are not aware of this, they preoccupy themselves with trivia, and many practitioners of other disci- p l inesnhis to ry , anthropology, various branches of the humani t i es - -who con- sider culture their domain, would be surprised that sociology has anything to do with it. But, while these disciplines focus on various aspects of culture, Culture as such is the distinctive focus of sociology; it is its defining subject, its very raison d'etre, for society, human society, is culture.

Culture exists when numbers of essentially separate individualsmthe atoms, the only active elements of the social mat te rmcohere together in enduring collectivities, which also assume the character of individuals, though of a different order, and, in a way, act as one. Social in tegra t ionnth is cohesion-- is a function of culture. Culture is, in turn, a function of the need to integrate, which is a biological imperative that cannot be realized through the biological consti tution of individual human organisms. Social integration is a function of culture in the sense that culture creates, actually produces social integration. How exactly it does this is a matter for complicated and very extensive empirical investigation. But culture is a function of a biological imperative to integrate in a very different, indirect, and limited sense of being made sensible--to a rational observer, such as us- -by the existence of this biological imperative.

Society--constant cooperation of individual organisms--is a necessary condi- tion for the survival of the species among all higher forms of animal life. In most cases, the forms and skills of cooperation are biologically prescribed and trans- mitted through individual organisms in the form of instincts, but human beings in this respect suffer from a great disability. Two wolves from different packs or two lions from different prides, meeting in the wild, would immediately read each other 's intentions and know what to do with each other. A meeting of two men in the wild is simply inconceivable, because men do not survive in the wild long enough to meet, and they do not survive because they lack the inborn ability to read each other 's intentions and know what to do with each other. Human nature requires a compensation for this disability. To be able to cooper- a t e - -wi thou t which the survival of the species is imposs ib lemhuman beings need a functional equivalent of instincts, essentially some blueprints of forms and skills of cooperation, and culture represents this functional equivalent.

But a functional understanding of a phenomenon, the understanding of why it should exist, only then amounts to an explanation of why it does exist, that is, how it came about, when it is possible to ascertain the mechanisms that translate a need into the means for its satisfaction and actually bring about the phenomenon in question. If these mechanisms cannot be ascertained, the pos- tulation of a functional relationship, which makes the existence of a phenom-

Greenfeld 71

e n o n intelligible, does not amount to its explanat ion and has, basically, no empirical

s ignif icance. F rom an empir ica l or scient if ic s tandpoin t , it makes no m o r e sense

to c la im that cu l tu re is a p r o d u c t o f ou r biological na ture than it does to asser t

that it is a God-given gift, t hough e i the r o f these p ropos i t i ons may in fact be

t rue, b e c a u s e w e c a n n o t ever p r o v e empir ica l ly that this is so.

In the case o f the c o n n e c t i o n b e t w e e n b io logy and cu l tu re this causal rela-

t ionsh ip c a n n o t be p r o v e n because cu l tu re is an emergent phenomenon. An

e m e r g e n t p h e n o m e n o n is a c o m p l e x p h e n o m e n o n that c a n n o t be r e d u c e d to the

sum of its e lements , a case in w h i c h a specif ic c o m b i n a t i o n o f e lements , the

poss ibi l i ty o f w h i c h is in no way given in any o f the e lements , p r o d u c e s a

ce r t a in e me rge n t , n e w quality, w h i c h in a large measu re d e t e r m i n e s the na tu re

and the e x i s t e nce o f the p h e n o m e n o n , as wel l as o f its e lements , and w h i c h

c a n n o t be u n d e r s t o o d or exp l a ined on the basis of any a m o u n t of, h o w e v e r

sc rupu lous , d issec t ion . The c o n c e p t of e m e r g e n t p h e n o m e n o n or ig inates in bi-

ology; its original r e f e r en t is life. For this reason analogies b e t w e e n life, on the

one hand, and soc ie ty or cu l ture , on the o ther , are n e v e r really far-fetched: t h ey h ighl ight the mos t impor t an t quali ty of bo th , the i r emergen t , i r r educ ib le char-

acter . Life is i r r educ ib le to the inanimate ma t t e r of wh ich , and on ly o f wh ich ,

eve ry living cell is c o m p o s e d ; it is a qual i ty b e y o n d and apar t f r o m this mat ter ,

w h i c h exis ts in the b o u n d a r y cond i t ions p r o v i d e d by it, ye t shapes it at the same

t ime, insofar as this ma t t e r be longs to the living thing. The e m e r g e n t p h e n o m -

e n o n o f life is so as tonish ing that it is a lmost imposs ib le to c o n f r o n t it w i t h o u t

the he lp o f a rel igious faith, w h i c h r ep resen t s the m o m e n t o f e m e r g e n c e as an

act o f c rea t ion .

Socie ty or cu l tu re is equally, if no t more , astonishing: it is also i r reduc ib le to

the ma t t e r of w h i c h it is c o m p o s e d and w h i c h p rov ides b o u n d a r y cond i t i ons for

it, bu t this m a t t e r is humani ty , living, po ten t ia l ly creat ive , in te l l igent beings.

No th ing in ou r cons t i tu t ion as biological or psycho log ica l organisms expla ins it;

as biological or psycho log ica l organisms, each o n e of us is as abso lu te ly p o w e r - less, insignif icant , and uncrea t ive vis-a-vis it as any par t icu lar a tom of inanimate

m a t t e r is vis-h-vis a living organism; we b e c o m e e m p o w e r e d , crea t ive , and sig-

n i f icant on ly as carr iers of cu l ture , e x p o s e d to its magic touch ; it t ru ly trans-

fo rms us: in it, w e acqui re a di f ferent , social nature . Wi thou t us cu l tu re w o u l d

not exist , bu t ne i the r wou ld we w i t h o u t it, and it is cu l tu re w h i c h makes us w h a t w e are.

The i r reduc ib i l i ty of an e m e r g e n t p h e n o m e n o n implies that at the m o m e n t of

e m e r g e n c e the re occu r s a break in con t inu i ty , a leap f rom o n e i n t e r c o n n e c t e d

w or ld or real i ty into a n o t h e r essential ly d i s c o n n e c t e d f rom it, a t r ans fo rma t ion

the m e c h a n i s m of wh ich , by def ini t ion, c an n o t be t raced to the first reality, bu t

is e x t r a n e o u s to it. An acute consc iousnes s of the e m e r g e n t qual i ty o f social real i ty or cu l ture , of its a u t o n o m o u s nature , like the consc iousnes s of the emergen t na tu re of life, makes it ve ry diff icult to resist an urge to i n t e rp r e t it as

divine. I c a n n o t say w h e t h e r it is good or no t to resist this urge. In itself, this

acu te sensit ivi ty, an ability to be a w e d by the wor ld , is a rare and co m p e l l i n g


characterist ic, probably indispensable for a good social scientist. But I know that, like any faith, this in terpreta t ion presupposes a logical leap (which is what

the leap of faith is), a suspension of one 's rational judgment, and, if one does not take the precaut ion to eliminate it from one 's empirical investigations as irrelevant, it is likely that one's investigations will no longer deal with the empirical.

The first social theorist to imply that society was God, and the only one to state this explicitly, was Max Weber 's con tempora ry and perhaps his only equal among the many would-be-fathers of sociology, the French sociologist Emile

Durkheim. Durkheim did not use the term ~emergent phenomenon , " but he

clearly recognized the emergent nature of social reality and defined it as a reality sui generis, a reality higher, grander than man, which gave meaning to men 's life and even death. Durkheim imagined society as a collective individual in the sense of a concre te physical being, a palpable, material force tower ing above little men, physically moving them, pushing and pulling them in different direc-

tions in accordance with its own needs, as an animal may move the cells in its limbs in accordance with its needs. This great being is made vivid on the pages of Durkheim's books, where it truly comes alive; if one has not realized the reality of society on one 's own, one can no longer deny it after reading Durkheim. But, interestingly, this being leads only an intermit tent exis tence. It springs to life w he n men congregate, come together in groups; and it dies, or perhaps

enters a state of hibernation, when they disperse. It is most alive when the interact ions are at their utmost density and intensity. These moments of dense congregat ion and intense interaction, moments of emergence in o ther words, w h e n many individual men are collectively transformed into a different, social being, Durkheim calls sacred. These are the moments in the p resence of the divine. Men alone, removed from this presence, inhabit the sphere of the profane. The moments of emergence , of social vitality, and of the sacred are also the moments of generat ion of ideas or symbolic representat ions. The ideas are genera ted by the society, not by any one of the individuals in a group, but by all of them, simultaneously and together, in a kind of mystical union, as if there emerges a physically existing collective mind, even a collective brain, capable of registering and processing external stimuli. These stimuli may include various things. Durkheim describes generat ion of religious ideas among Australian ab- origines, where the stimuli include elements of the native flora and fauna. The collect ive mind registers a certain tree or animal, and this tree or animal be-

comes the to tem and is in t roduced into the minds of the individual members of the group as the symbol of the divine. Systems of symbols genera ted in this fashion he called "collective consciousness." This ~collective consciousness" was much more than ideas and values shared by individuals in a society; it was the consciousness of the actually existing collective mind.

Since society was God, it was the source of good and good in itself. Anything

that sustained and cont r ibu ted to the life of society was, by definition, moral. Morality was defined as social integration. This made for a profoundly and un- condit ionally conservat ive position: any society was wor th preserving at any cost, because it was, by definition, moral and divine; it was a form, a body of


God. All of this sounds like pure metaphysics, but Durkheim believed that he was simply drawing inferences from empirical observations.

I should like to make several comments about this fantastic theory. First, it sounds crazy, but it is in a large measure true. Moral is in fact social. And society really exists beyond and above men who constitute it. Second, morality, religious beliefs, and collective consciousness are very important subjects in Durkheim's writings; he is rightly considered the author of a foundational theory in the sociology of knowledge or culture, indeed his theory of society is a theory of culture at the same time. And yet, culture plays a clearly subordinate role in his thinking. It is epiphenomenal , not independent, not, as such, creative and au- thoritative; it emanates from society, which is imagined as a material force and only represents or symbolizes this force. This, Durkheim's materialism, curi- ously, might be related to his interpretation of society as divine. He was so sensitive of its reality, it was so real for him, that he physically felt its presence and conceived of it as a physical being. He could feel it but could not touch it; it was everywhere, but could not be seen-- i t was natural to conclude that this materially existing force was God. Here was another atheist of Jewish origin, who was overwhelmed by the grandeur of the universe.

Durkheim was one of the greatest minds the social sciences ever produced. He was remarkably perceptive, endowed to the highest degree with powers of both intuition and ratiocination; he was able to capture the essence of the most complex social processes--his concept of "anomie," for instance, is, perhaps, the most powerful explanatory device of all ever proposed by the social science, and indispensable for our understanding of modern i ty - -he was a lucid and systematic thinker. How on earth could an intellect of this quality have produced such an outlandish theory? The lucidity of Durkheim's thought and writing makes it possible to establish exactly where in the process of his thinking he took his leap of faith. One can actually watch it happening in his most systematic theo- retical work: The Rules o f Sociological Method. The leap occurs in the course of the elucidation of the emergent nature of society. Starting from the premises of empirical, positive inquiry, which allow one to postulate only that which can be empirically ascertained, Durkheim proposes that human individuals represent the most significant group of facts one can observe while studying society and the only active elements in it. He goes on to show that, even though one cannot observe anything but human individuals in action (or the results of their ac- tions), these observations systematically and often dramatically vary in accordance with the characteristics not of individuals, but of their combinations, or groups. These variations and characteristics of groupsmas such, unconnec ted to characteristics of individualsmalso represent positive, empirical facts and thus prove the existence of a reality of a nature different from the biological reality of the human individual. Durkheim shows, on the basis of carefully presented evidence, that this reality is far more powerful than is the individual: indeed, the behavior of the individual is by and large determined by the nature of his or her society, not the other way around. This allows Durkheim to postulate the principle of duality of the human nature, which is, on the one hand, biological or


individual, and, on the other hand, social. As elements of society, human beings remain biological individuals, but they also necessarily take on a different character; they are transformed into creatures of a different order.

So far--so good, even superb: nobody before or after has argued the positive reality of society with such elegance. But, it is here that Durkheim loses his touch with reality and is transported, taking us with him, out of the realm of positive fact into metaphysics. Blinded but for a moment by the spectacular vistas opened by his argument, he jumps from the empirically supported claim that society is a reality sui generis and more powerful than man, to a non sequitur conclusion that it is independent from man. He who claimed that men are the only active elements of social reality its students can observe and postulate the duality of human nature, looses sight of men and of their nature as individuals; they cease to exist for him as anything but cells in the social organism.

I begin this discussion with Durkheim because I believe that Edward Shils was, deep down, a Durkheimean. He never acknowledged this; he was deeply dissatisfied with Durkheim's treatment of collective consciousness, and he was convinced he was carrying on the work of Max Weber. But, like Durkheim, he, I feel, was overwhelmed by the grandeur of social reality, and was thus inca- pable of a reserved and dispassionate analysis of it, which would make him a Weberian. His language was characterized, very aptly, as Uchaste," but his work was very passionate; as I said before, this was the work of adoration, and the very chastity of his language is explained, I think, by the fact that such passion demanded of him to be very careful with words.

As I said before, I do not know whether being or not being overwhelmed, in this context , is better; being overwhelmed might be a sign of a greater sensitiv- ity to social reality. But Weber was not overwhelmed (if he was awestruck, he did not let this affect his work). Weber also clearly recognized the emergent nature of social reality, but he never lost sight of the empirical constraints of its study. Human individuals were the only active elements of society. Empirical analysis of society necessitated focusing on human individuals, that is method- ological individualism. It necessitated keeping in mind constantly not only the social nature of individuals but their other, biological and psychological, nature. It was because of this exigency of empirical social inquiry that Weber, unlike Durkheim, was, above all, preoccupied with culture.

Weber 's empirical focus implied the recognition that humanity was a thinking species with an inborn capacity to produce symbols, and that culture, here a comprehensive category for symbolic systems and processes, was the essence of social reality emerging as a result of human association. Social reality was an essentially symbolic reality; it was the centrality in it of the symbolic that distin- guished human society from societies existing among other species. The central subject of sociology, according to Weber, was the study of social action, which he defined as meaningfully oriented action, in other words action oriented by or grounded in symbolic systems. This did not at all imply that none but the symbolic processes went on in society; there were many others, and some of them


were very important in terms of their impact on social action. But these nonsymbolic processes, which could be traced back to the biological or psychological consti- tution of human beings and which thus did not reflect emergent properties of society, were not distinctive, and therefore not definitive, of human societies. They could be observed among other species as well. One such very important nonsymbolic phenomenon, in my interpretation of Weber 's view, was charisma. But everything social, insofar as "sociaV pertained to human society, was symbolic, namely cultural. To understand society meant to understand culture; to understand a particular society meant to understand the culture specific to it. Since culture was an emergent phenomenon, which did not, could not exist independently of human individuals, but only through and in them, this was not enough, for it was constantly affected by factors extraneous to it and yet existing in it, pertaining to the biological and psychological properties of human beings. But the consideration of these other factors properly belonged to the jurisdiction of other disciplines--biology and psychology--and was marginal to sociology, whose focus was on the autonomous, irreducible, and grand reality all its own.

Weber 's notion of culture, unlike Durkheim's strikingly concrete "collective consciousness, ~ was an amorphous, composite notion; and, unlike Durkheim, he did not leave a general theory of culture or of social integration, but rather countless specific theories about various forms and aspects of culture and social integration. In fact, there hardly was an aspect of culture he did not touch upon and did not illuminate in his laborious writings, and yet these efforts did not combine into a unified view.

A scientific understanding, a theory of an empirical phenomenon, necessarily begins with a definition. The definition should capture the essence of the phenomenon, thereby setting it off and allowing the examination of its relationships with other phenomena. Culture proved very difficult to define. The definitions that were at tempted stressed various characteristics and functions, but barely brushed its surface. It proved equally difficult to define life. So far as I know (andwin my deep ignorance of biologywI rely on the 1989 issue of the new, 15th edition, Encyclopaedia Britannica), there is, correspondingly, no gener- ally accepted theory of life. The argument between mechanists and vitalists, i.e., those who believed in the ultimate possibility to reduce life to laws of physics and chemistry, and those who postulated the existence of some "vital force," was resolved only in the sense that both options are now considered inadequate. Somewhere from the depths of my memory I recollect a remark by the great French nineteenth-century physiologist Claude Bernard to the effect that, given that the definition and understanding of the fundamental nature of life appears for the moment impossible, one should concentrate on the study of its forms and mechanisms. (This, you may recall, made Claude Bernard the symbol of godless materialism for Dostoyevsky. Dmitri Karamazov, at the time of the trial, uses his name as a slur, indiscriminately applicable to all that is immoral and soulless: for, from a certain point of view, to claim that life is just a combination of physiochemical properties is to deny God.) Max Weber was doing in the


s tudy o f cu l tu re w h a t Claude Bernard p r o p o s e d to do in the s tudy o f life: he she lved the ques t ion o f fundamenta l na ture and focused on forms and mecha-

nisms. For Edward Shils, this, I be l ieve , was no t enough . So far as empir ica l s tudy goes, a def in i t ion is a c o r n e r s t o n e o f any theory .

T h e r e can be no rat ional , o r causal, exp lana t ion w i t h o u t def ini t ion. To a t t e m p t

on e w i t h o u t the o t h e r is ana logous to asking, as Alice does o f the Chesh i r e Cat in W o n d e r l a n d , w h i c h way should she take, whi le she does not k n o w w h e r e she wan t s to go. The Chesh i re Cat wise ly advises Alice that if she does no t k n o w w h e r e she wan t s to go, it does no t ma t t e r w h i c h way she w o u l d take. The qu e s t i on in i tself is absurd. In causal exp lana t ions , w h i c h are bu t a c c o u n t s of h o w one th ing leads to ano the r , if w e do no t k n o w w h a t the i t is to w h i c h s o m e t h i n g is s u p p o s e d to lead, ou r claims dissolve in e m p t y specula t ions .

T h r o u g h o u t his life, Edward Shils was looking for the essent ia l k n o w l e d g e , an u n d e r s t a n d i n g - - b u t a rat ional and empir ica l u n d e r s t a n d i n g - - o f the f u n d a m e n t a l na tu re o f cu l tu re , and he set out to find it by first co m in g up wi th the def in i t ion. Wha t he was do ing was t rying to see t h roug h all o f its ex te rna l e x p r e s s i o n s and to d e p i c t - - a c t u a l l y d e s c r i b e - - t h e inner e s sence o f cul ture . This de sc r ip t i on had a stat ic and a dynamic aspect ; it was far m o r e de ta i led than was D u r k h e i m ' s de sc r ip t i on of soc ie ty (it is s imply as tonishing w h a t Shils saw wi th his i nne r eye) , bu t it had some str iking parallels to Durkhe im ' s vision. T h e e s sen ce o f Shils 's d e p i c t i o n was c a p t u r e d in his e labora t ion of a pair of c o n c e p t s : the "cen te r" and the "per iphery . " In the i r e labora t ion Shils as if p u s h e d of f Durkhe im. He wro te , in a 1988 essay descr ib ing the h is tory o f these co n cep t s : "My in teres t has always b e e n in the in tegra t ion o f soc ie ty . . . . D u rk h e im ' s idea o f c o n s c i e n c e

co l lec t i ve did not he lp . . . . Since the 1930s, I was t rying to arr ive at an intelligible a c c o u n t o f wha t makes a large aggregate o f h u m an be ings into a soci-

e ty . . . . The d e v e l o p m e n t of the c o n c e p t u a l s c h e m e of c e n t e r and p e r i p h e r y is a s tep in the r ight d i rec t ion ."

The c o n c e p t o f "cen te r , " as used by Shils, carr ies a dual meaning . In its p r imary sense it be longs to the sphe re of values and is a m e t a p h o r fo r w h a t is of c o r e i m p o r t a n c e in the value sys tem of a society, its i r r educ ib le or cri t ical e lements . Ano the r t e rm for "cen te r" in this sense is "cent ra l value sys tem." Shils also refers to it s ome t imes as " t r anscenden ta l cen te r . " U n d e r s t o o d in this sense, " cen te r " plays a crucia l role in social in tegrat ion: the i r reduc ib le values and beliefs that cons t i tu te it establish the identi ty of individuals in a socie ty as m e m b e r s o f that soc ie ty and b ind t hem into a c o m m o n universe; in this sense , " cen te r " r e p r e s e n t s a sor t o f social "gene t ic code . "

This me a n ing of the t e rm "cen te r " implies a c o r r e s p o n d i n g idea of "per iphery ." The "pe r iphe ry" consis ts o f the material on w h i c h the creat ive , so c io g en i c f unc t i on of the c e n t e r is p e r f o r m e d . The m ech an i sm t h r o u g h w h i c h the c e n t e r in tegra tes the p e r i p h e r y is c o n s e n s u s - - s o m e t h i n g very similar to D u r k h e i m ' s "co l lec t ive consc iousness . " The p roce s s o f consensus is specif ic to, tha t is, de- f ini t ive of social reality, in the same way in w h i c h e x c h a n g e is spec i f ic to the e c o n o m y and coerc ion to polity. Essentially, society is a consensual reality. Exchange, coe r c ion , and even conf l ic t are on ly poss ib le in soc ie ty on the basis of some

Greenfeld 77

c o n s e n s u s .

In its s e c o n d sense the c o n c e p t "cen te r " re fers to the ~central ins t i tu t iona l

sys tem," w h i c h Shils at t imes calls " the ear th ly cen te r . ~ A l though s e e m i n g l y

a n a l o g o u s to the "cen t ra l value sys tem, ~ it is in fact ve ry di f ferent . In this s ense

" cen t e r " is no t real ly a m e t a p h o r . It d e n o t e s the au thor i t a t ive ins t i tu t ions and

p e r s o n s w h o e x p r e s s or e m b o d y the cen t ra l va lue sys tem. Author i ty and va lues are in t ima te ly re la ted ( for cen t ra l value s y s t e m is the s o u r c e of l eg i t imacy and,

as such , c r ea t e s au thor i ty ) , t h o u g h s o m e t i m e s au tho r i t y may evo lve ou t o f s h e e r

p o w e r and de fac to d o m i n a t i o n , w h i c h be ing by na tu re awe- insp i r ing , will on ly la ter c o n n e c t to and p e r h a p s m od i fy the cen t ra l va lue sys tem. In any case,

" cen t e r " in this s e c o n d sense has the c o n n o t a t i o n o f a phys ica l , spat ia l c o n c e n -

t r a t ion tha t "cen t ra l va lue sys t em" lacks. The "cent ra l ins t i tu t ional sys t em" is

t heo re t i ca l l y d i f fe ren t f r o m the cen t ra l va lue sys tem; it is no t the "gene t i c c o d e "

of soc ie ty . But, it is o n e of the m o s t i m p o r t a n t m e c h a n i s m s or veh ic l e s o f its

t r ansmiss ion , as wel l as the main o p e r a t i o n a l m e a n s for the a s s e s s m e n t of the

cen t ra l va lue sys tem; for, opera t iona l ly , the cen t ra l va lue sy s t em is tha t w h i c h

is e x p r e s s e d and e m b o d i e d in the ins t i tu t ional cen te r . The ins t i tu t ional c e n t e r is

no t c o t e r m i n o u s w i t h the g o v e r n m e n t or the state; it is c o m p r i s e d of m a n y

d i f fe ren t and s o m e t i m e wa r r i ng elites. The " p e r i p h e r y " c o r r e s p o n d i n g to the

" c e n t e r ~ in this s ense is the ins t i tu t ions and p e r s o n s w h o have less au tho r i t y or w h o lack a u t h o r i t y a l toge ther . These can be ins t i tu t ions and p e r s o n s e x p r e s s i n g

or e m b o d y i n g marg ina l va lues that coex i s t w i th bu t do not b e l o n g to the cen t r a l

va lue sys tem, or ins t i tu t ions and p e r s o n s r e m o t e f r o m the spat ia l c o n c e n t r a t i o n s

o f au tho r i t a t i ve ins t i tu t ions . Speak ing of c e n t e r s and p e r i p h e r i e s in this sense ,

w e are no t c o n c e r n e d wi th the na tu re o f the l i fe-blood o f soc i e ty (as w e are in

c o n n e c t i o n w i t h the cen t ra l va lue sys tem) , bu t w i t h the c h a n n e l s t h r o u g h w h i c h

it is ca r r i ed to spec i f i c c o m m u n i t i e s or p o c k e t s o f soc ie ty and to its g e o g r a p h i c a l

p e r i p h e r y . Shils 's w o r k on t rad i t ion a d d e d a d y n a m i c e l e m e n t to his e l a b o r a t e analysis o f

the s ta t ics o f sym bo l i c reality. Trad i t ion w a s the e x i s t e n c e o f cu l tu re in h is tory , cu l tu re u n d e r s t o o d as p roces s , r a t h e r than s t ruc tu re , bu t the p r o c e s s in w h i c h the s t r u c t u r e - - t h e t r a n s c e n d e n t a l c e n t e r and its c o r r e s p o n d i n g p e r i p h e r y - - l i v e d ,

and t h r o u g h w h i c h , specif ical ly , the vital and c rea t ive fo rces that c o n s t i t u t e d the c e n t e r w e r e p e r p e t u a t e d and t r ansmi t t ed . Of his b o o k Tradition o u r o w n Pe t e r

Be rge r said: "Its t op i c is vast . Mr. Shils t r ies to e x p l o r e not this or tha t t rad i t ion ,

bu t the ro le in h u m a n soc ie t ies of t rad i t ion as s u c h - - i n the ve ry w i d e sense o f

e v e r y t h i n g tha t is traditum, h a n d e d d o w n , f r o m one g e n e r a t i o n to a n o t h e r . "

Shils h i m s e l f wr o t e :

This book about tradition is evidence of the need for tradition. If there had been other comprehensive books about tradition and traditions, this book would have been a bet ter one. It would have given me a point of departure easier to start from, it would have given me a standard, and it would have made me more aware of omissions and misapprehensions. But there is no such book. There are many books about particular traditions. There are books about tradition in Islamic theology and law; there are


books about tradition in Judaism; books about tradition in Roman Catholic and Prot- estant Christianity. There are books about particular traditions in literature and art and law. There is however no book about tradition which tries to see the common ground and elements of tradition and which analyzes what difference tradition makes in human life.

This was similar to saying that there have been books on this and that form

or aspect of life, but not on Life as such. The relations be tween centers and per ipheries and their relative weights vis-

~-vis each o ther changed in time. In modern society, Shils noted an expans ion

of the center (in the primary sense of the term) into the per iphery, a g rowth of "civility," which he defined as "the sense of membership in and of responsibil i ty for the entire society," an expansion, therefore, of the public into the private, or, to use Durkheim's terms, of the "sacred" into the "profane." Indeed, the concep t s "center" and "periphery" are very similar to the Durkheimean diad. "Center" is the sphere of the significant, the creative, the vital, and the serious, which makes the individual feel more than just an individual, makes one tran-

scend oneself, transforms one 's na ture- - jus t as the "sacred" is for Durkheim. The expansion of the center into per iphery in modern society implies the in- creasing pervasiveness of social integration, growing social cohesion. In this, again, Shils's thinking is quite akin to Durkheim's, both thinkers standing in a very exclusive company against the dominant view that moderni ty spells the breakdown of vital social ties, disintegration, and atomization.

Like Durkheim's society, center for Shils took on a character of a material, physical p resence or energy. The opposi t ion of cen ter and per iphery ref lected this physical character. Per iphery was what was remote from the source of energy, where its intensity waned; cen ter was the source. Shils thought of the impact or exper i ence of the center in terms of degrees of proximity to it. Social structure, the system of social stratification, for example, was at base a hierarchy of degrees of proximity to the vital force of the center . This literal, ontological reification of the cen te r led Shils to misread Weber ' s discussion of charisma. Weber, indeed, conceived of charisma as a kind of physical, animal energy, a very concre te psychophysical quality of certain specially endowed individuals, similar to hypnotism. He saw it as very important and capable, in certain social condit ions, of dramatically swaying collective behavior. But remember , "collective" did not equal "social" for Weber; social was symbolic, consequent ly , he did

not include charisma among bases of social, that is, symbolic, action, and explicitly defined it as existing on the verge, the margins, of the social, as something within the sphere of society and yet not of its emergent propert ies . Shils on several occasions ment ioned that sometimes, while alone, thinking of society, he felt charisma so intensely that he would get up and purposelessly walk to and fro in a state of great agitation. He compared this impact to that of music; "charisma," he would say, "makes you do things!" But, according to Weber, one could not exper i ence the impact of charisma unless in the physical p resence of a charismatic individual: charisma was a particularly powerful nonsymbolic quality

Greenfeld 79

of an individual organism. For Shils, because it was so powerful as to p roduce physical effect, it was "ultimately symbolic"; it was the very essence of the cen te r in the sense of the ~central value system," the "awe-arousing centrali ty ~ itself.

Shils's in terpre ta t ion of Weber ' s concep t of ~charisma," which was, of course, integral to his own vision, was the cause of the only explici t d isagreement be tw e e n us. This was a disagreement of absolute principle: to quest ion this point was to quest ion everything in his scheme. I disagreed with him publicly, during one of his extraordinary seminars; I was young and foolish at the time, insufficiently aware of how dear an argument may become to a scholar, and as a result unconscious that I might have been inflicting pain. Edward Shils told me to hold my t o n g u e - - h e was the only person who, luckily for everyone con- cerned, talked during these seminars- -and to justify my object ions in writing, which I did. Then, for the first time, he called me to his home and, when I came, said, still standing in the doorway: ~Mrs. Greenfeld, I disagree with everything you write. If I did not, I would have to reject my own conclusions of the past ten years. But I think that what you have to say is very important , and I want you to write and publish an essay on this subject." In the ensuing months he guided me through three drafts of that essay, forcing me to s t rengthen and helping me to polish the argument whose intent ion was to prove that he was wrong. I was already then struck by the except ional generosi ty of spirit, and selflessness, exhibi ted in this reaction. I understand now that it also ref lected his dedicat ion to the thing beyond him, the ideal that he served and a particular tradit ion of inquiry that was to achieve the knowledge of this ideal. He wel- comed every honest effort to carry on this tradition. What mat tered for him was not w h e t h e r he was wrong or right, but the Truth. Of course, I never convinced him, but my disagreement sufficed to make him yet again rethink his own ideas, for he never found them sat isfactory-- that ' s why he never published his largest and most ambitious w o r k - - h e never achieved certainty; to the end of his days he remained ignorant of the fundamental nature of the higher reality he adored, a pious agnostic.

Shils's vision appeared to refine and add on to Durkheim's. Because Durkheim imagined the emergent p h e n o m e n o n of society as, fundamentally, physical energy genera ted by the physical proximity of individual biological organisms, it came and went , ebbed and f lowed with the density of physical interaction, almost being born every time anew; its exis tence was a row of discrete per iods of vitality that al ternated with periods of attenuation. Of course, it never com- pletely died: it lived on in symbolic representat ions that individuals carried in their minds at all times, even when dispersed; but in these representat ions, it appears, it was but a faint shadow of its real, vibrant self. Shils, in contrast, imagined the emergent p h e n o m e n o n of society as essentially symbolic reality, which was pe rpe tua ted as tradition and lived in the human minds most fully. In dist inction to Durkhe im-- fo r whom, it seems, a certain, independent ly existing physical energy projec ted itself into symbolic representat ions, which ref lected it, but were not it t hemse lves - - fo r Shils, the symbolic representat ions as a system were the source of the physical energy.


Like Weber , Shils p e r c e i v e d soc ie ty as cu l tu re , w h i c h D u rk h e im did not . But this w o u l d no t exp la in w h y Shils f ound Durkhe im ' s v i ew so unsa t i s fac tory as to re fuse to r ecogn ize the under ly ing affinity b e t w e e n his o w n and D u r k h e i m ' s ideas, and par t icular ly b e t w e e n Durkhe im ' s jux tapos i t ion of the sac red and the p r o f a n e and his o w n c e n t e r and pe r i phe ry . In sc ience , w e t ry to go b e y o n d o u r p r e d e c e s s o r s , k n o w i n g that those w h o c o m e af ter us will go b e y o n d us. It is a cumula t ive p r oce s s in w h i c h w e all build on the a c h i e v e m e n t s of t hose w h o w o r k e d be f o r e us.

Shils r e fused to bui ld on Durkhe im ' s legacy because his in te l lec tua l p r o j e c t t r a n s c e n d e d sc ience . The p r o b l e m was that w h a t he w a n t e d to k n o w - - t h e fundamenta l na tu re of c u l t u r e - - c o u l d not be k n o w n rat ional ly and empir ica l ly . It

was, in o t h e r words , rat ional ly and empir ica l ly u n fa th o m ab le and inscru tab le , like God. W h e n rat ional and empir ica l k n o w l e d g e is impossible , w o r d s acqu i re s igni f icance of an o r d e r qui te d i f fe ren t f rom the o n e they have in sc ience . T h e y

b e c o m e the direct , immedia t e means of knowledge , means o f reve la t ion , r a the r than analysis, w h i c h may lead to k n o w l e d g e at some poin t . Naming the ratio- nally u n f a t h o m a b l e thing co r r ec t l y b e c o m e s al l- important , b ecau se the c o r r e c t name seems to br ing out its essence , calling it a l lows o n e to face it. Unde r these cond i t ions , the t e rms one uses, the words , are no longer in t e rchangeab le : certain t e rms are i nhe ren t l y t rue, all the rest are fundamenta l ly e r roneous . At the same t ime, e ve n the t rue te rms are still only r ep re sen ta t i ons o f the essence , they are still no t i t . T h e r e is some th ing cur ious abou t Shils's d iscuss ions o f cul ture : the care w i th wh ich , it seems, he avoids using the w o r d "cu l tu re" itself; g iven that this is wha t he is cons tan t ly p r e o c c u p i e d wi th , he uses the w o r d very rarely i n d e e d and a lmost n e v e r expl ic i t ly refers to his subjec t by this term.

The ra t ional and empir ica l unde r s t and ing of the fundamen ta l na tu re o f culture , its essent ia l unders tand ing , is imposs ib le because w e c a n n o t ex te rna l i ze it, c a n n o t s tep outs ide it concep tua l l y and envis ion the m o m e n t o f e m e r g e n c e , w h e n the e l e men t s w h i c h are not in themse lves cul tural c o m b i n e and b e c o m e

cul ture . Maybe this is poss ib le in re la t ion to a par t icu lar life c e l l - - a n d the abili ty to successfu l ly visualize this m o m e n t in re la t ion to it w o u l d mean the abili ty to c rea te life; bu t it is n e v e r poss ib le in re la t ion to cu l ture , b ecau se the cells of cu l tu re are h u m a n minds and they canno t be obse rved at all ou t s ide of cul ture . T he e m e r g e n c e of cu l tu re , like the e m e r g e n c e of life, is fundamenta l ly an histori- cal p r ob l e m. But w i t h life, possibly, as w i th Durkhe im ' s socie ty , h i s tory con- s tant ly r epea t s itself, wh i l e wi th cul ture , w h i c h exists as t radi t ion, it does not . The c rea to r s of every n e w form of cu l tu re are necessar i ly c rea tu res o f cu l tu re themse lves . To s tep out of cu l tu re to obse rve it f rom the necessa ry d is tance , w e w o u l d have to s tep out of the h i s to ry o f human i ty as a th ink ing s p e c i e s - - a t that po in t , concep tua l ly , w e w o n ' t be a n y w h e r e near anyth ing cultural ; it will no longer be wi th in ou r field of vision. This means that, as empir ica l s tuden t s of

cu l tu re , we must be c o n f i n e d wi th in this e m e r g e n t reality; w e have no c h o i c e bu t to fo l l ow the advice of Claude Bernard and the e x a m p l e of Max Weber : w e can n e v e r essent ia l ly under s t and , no r can w e r igorous ly def ine the p o w e r that gives mean ing to ou r ex i s t ence . As scientists , we must give this p r o j e c t up. But

Greenfeld 81

w e should ne ve r loose sight o f the reali ty we can n o t fully k n o w and, pe rhaps , w e shou ld be grateful that we live in a fo reve r mys te r ious wor ld .

Edward Shils c o n c e i v e d of in te l lectuals "as the carr iers of a u t o n o m o u s tradi- t ions o f the t r anscenden ta l cen te r . " "The inte l lectuals of the most e leva ted sort ,"

he wr o t e , Useek a p r imacy of c o n n e c t i o n wi th the t r anscenden ta l c e n t e r o f ex i s t ence . T h e y seek its u l t imate laws. T h e y a t t em p t to disc lose those things

w h i c h are m o r e vital than wha t o thers have seen . . . . " Professor Shils was such an in te l lec tua l of the mos t e leva ted sort. His ques t was ul t imate ly futile. But, it

was no t at all in vain. In striving, to his last day, to attain the unat ta inable , he t es ted the limits o f ou r ability to know; he exempl i f i ed the mys te r ious fo rce he t r ied to unders tand ; he focused ou r gaze on the vital, the ser ious, and the

centra l ; he taught us an app rec i a t i on of the magn i f i cence of the soc ia l - -cu l - t u r a l - r e a l i t y . For those fo r tuna te to have k n o w n him, he set a s tandard o f in te l lec tua l ded ica t ion against w h i c h we are b o u n d to measu re ourse lves as long

as w e live. Some th i r ty years f rom now, w h e n I am taking s tock of my life, I migh t d r e a m of w a n d e r i n g in some dark co r r idor s and f inding the old Professor Shils, sitting, a b so rbed in work , at a desk in a n iche. I w o u l d surely t ip toe to that

desk and ho ld my brea th , wai t ing for his judgment . And I w o u l d h o p e , w h e n he l if ted his eyes, he might r ecogn ize that , desp i te all my doubts , I r e m a i n e d faith- ful to the t radi t ion o f w h i c h he was such an inspir ing cus todian , and that he w o u l d say to me, as Max W e b e r mos t cer ta in ly did to him" "I a p p r o v e o f w h a t y o u are doing."


praxis pietatis: a tribute to edward shils

Documents