General Theory and Rationality in the Social Sciences
General theories in the social sciences attract scholars the way naked flames attract moths.1 Freudianism, Marxism, and structural-functionalism seem to be dead, but new totalizing ambitions live on in rational choice theory. This has not done rational choice theory any favors. Is it doomed, too?
As its influence spread from its homeland in economics outward to politics, sociology, philosophy, and law, the theory has, of course, changed. Even so, it continues to inspire criticism by those who seek to slow or reverse its advances on their own disciplinary territory.
What are the main points of contention? The theory assumes that we calculate the expected consequences of our options and choose the best of them. Yet casual introspection apparently makes plain that we often act impulsively, emotionally, or merely by force of habit. Think how agonizing decisions about jobs, spouses, and children can be. Were we the calculating agents that rational choice theorists assume us to be, most such decisions would be cold-blooded and a cinch. But if the theory has so little superficial plausibility, why then has it gained so rapidly in fields distant from economics?
To understand its growing intellectual appeal, a common misconception first must be put to rest. Contrary to what many critics believe, rational choice theory does not try to explain what a rational person will do in a particular situation. This question lies firmly in the domain of decision theory. Genuine rational choices theories, by contrast, are concerned with social rather than with individual outcomes. Given that each individual acts rationally, will the aggregate outcome therefore be rational or desirable? Not necessarily. Regarded as stable equilibria, in which agents have no incentive to deviate from their course of action given othersâ behavior, social outcomes can be both unintended and undesirable. The overgrazing of the commons is a classic example of this dark side of Adam Smithâs invisible hand (Ostrom 1990). Among other outcomes, rational choice theorists try to explain why people in industrial societies have fewer children than those in less developed countries (Becker 1981), or have any children at all (Friedman, Hechter and Kanazawa 1994); why the markets for rice and rubber differ (Popkin 1981); why Japan has less crime than the United States (Miller and Kanazawa 2000), or why nationalism is a creature of the modern rather than the ancient or medieval worlds (Hechter 2000).
Unlike decision theory, rational choice theory is inherently a multilevel enterprise (Coleman 1990: ch. 1). At the lower level its models contain arguments about individual values. At the higher level they specify agentsâ social and material context. Since elements such as norms are part of the social context, rational choice theories do not rest on premises pertaining exclusively to individuals. By the same token, the rational choice theoristâs world is a great deal more complex than the decision theoristâs. To reduce this complexity to more manageable limits, rational choice theorists assume some model of individual action, often one based on subjective expected utility theory. They disagree about the most appropriate model, however. And so rational choice is more a rubric or a family of theories than a single all-encompassing one.
Perhaps the most important division separates âthinâ and âthickâ models of individual action (Ferejohn 1991). âThinâ rational choice models are unconcerned with the particular values (or goals) which individuals pursue. These models are based on a small number of strong assumptions (Dawes 1988): for example, that whatever an individualâs values may be, they must be stable and transitive (if someone prefers a to b, and b to c, they must prefer a to c). Rational choice theories based on thin models are highly universalistic and to that extent resemble theories in physics and biology concerning the optimal behaviour of atoms and organisms.
âThickâ models of individual action are substantively richer, for they countenance some aspects of intentionality. Since people have reasons for what they do, their behaviour is predictable only if we know what motivates them. Thick models therefore specify the individualâs existing values and beliefs. There are several means of doing so, but the most popular strategy has been to assume that individuals seek maximum quantities of exchangeable private goods such as wealth and, arguably, power or prestige. Wealth is commonly valued because it can be exchanged for a multitude of other goods in the marketplace. Thick models allow that individuals also value non-exchangeable goodsâthat some people live for the music of Mozart, and others for the thrill of horse racing. Indeed, the models assume that for any given individual, idiosyncratic values of this sort can outweigh the common one. Hence, without knowing each personâs unique value hierarchy, individual behaviour is unpredictable. As the size of groups increases, however, these idiosyncratic values tend to cancel each other out. In many circumstances the remaining common value permits quite accurate behavioral predictions at the collective level (Hechter 1994).
Thin models are substantively empty. They can be made consistent after the event, therefore, with nearly any kind of behavior. Thick onesâsuch as those postulating wealth-maximizationâoften are just plain wrong. To the degree that the idiosyncratic values are not distributed randomly in a population, explanations based on the pursuit of exchangeable private goods, such as wealth, power and prestige, will fail. Since outcomes may be partially a function of individual motivations, predictions made on the basis of thick models can be mutually inconsistent. Such inconsistencies can only be resolved on the basis of empirical evidence. That decision theorists can routinely invalidate subjective expected utility theory is also troubling, even if they have yet to formulate a superior alternative to it. All told, the mechanisms of individual action in rational choice theory are problematic.
Is a theory of higher-level outcomes invalidated by the inaccuracy of its lower-level mechanisms? The issue is controversial. Some, like Milton Friedman (1953), are content to judge theories by the adequacy of their predictions alone. One of the most sustained examples of this strategy is found in evolutionary biology. To animate his theory of biodiversity, Darwin proposed an individual-level mechanism of genetic transmission (based on blending) that subsequently was revealed to be inaccurate, rather than the accurate one (based on particulate inheritance). Darwinâs use of the blending mechanism made it difficult to understand genetic variability: if blending were the proper mechanism, then genetic variance would be halved in every generation. To explain the high rates of diversity he observed, Darwin had to assume a mutation rate that was ten times higher than it actually is. The neo-Darwinian synthesis, which combined natural selection with Mendelian particulate inheritance, is superior to Darwinâs theory (Fisher 1930). Yet Darwinâs mistaken mechanism of genetic transmission did not keep him from devising a higher-level theory of natural selection that is currently the main unifying paradigm in biology. (That the idea for this higher-level theory originated with Malthus, a social scientist, may be yet more grist for this particular mill.)
A similar story can be told in physics. Boyleâs Law and the other gas lawsârelating the pressure, temperature and volume of a gasâwere formulated before physicists understood mechanisms at the atomic level. These laws still hold, but they have nothing to say about the distribution of individual particles in space. To predict the dynamics of a gasâlike forecasting the weatherârequires complex nonlinear (âdeterministic chaosâ) models that are highly sensitive to initial conditions. For some kinds of problems, nevertheless, outcomes at the higher level can be predicted independent of knowledge of lower-level mechanisms. For predicting other kinds of outcomes, however, accurate lower-level mechanisms are essential.
Physicists studying the collective behavior of individual particles using effective field theories have observed that the robustness of individual-level mechanisms increases with the number of dimensions in which particles can move. When particles can move in only one spatial dimension (say, length), individual differences in initial conditions have greater effects on collective outcomes than when particles can move in three dimensions. If social structures (such as the institutions of caste or slave societies) are conceived analogously as limiting individual action, then individual differences should loom larger in determining organizational than market outcomes, for organizations are more highly structured. This may explain why thin models of individual action are more popular for studying markets than hierarchies.
What kinds of social scientific problems should general theories attempt to answer? The social sciences have yet to produce a Linnaeus, let alone a Boyle. Skeptics, of whom there are many, doubt that they ever will. Rational choice theorists gamble that social outcomes can be understood on the basis of admittedly incomplete models of individual action. At the present time, explaining social equilibria (the social scientistâs version of Boyleâs problem) seems quite ambitious enough. Predicting the course of future social outcomes (analogous to the problem of weather prediction) is beyond our reach (Hechter 1995).
Are there any alternatives to rational choice? For many critics, social and political phenomena are too complex and historically contingent to be successfully captured by any conceivable general theory (Green and Shapiro 1994). They hold that there should be no search for alternatives since the enterprise itself is misguided. But these critics fail to recognize the possibility that general theories might account for social equilibria such as patterns of fertility, market structures and crime rates. And the standards they uphold for theory are so demanding that not even natural selection passes muster, on account of its presumed unfalsifiability. Interestingly, the debate on natural selection recapitulates many of these same arguments.2 In lieu of general theory, these critics advocate more inductive research that aims to establish causal generalizations of limited scope. This surely is feasible, but what does it leave us with?
If abandoning general theory tout court is one option, adopting structural theory, the flavour of the month in sociology, is another (Bourdieu 1977; Giddens 1984; Sewell 1992). Although it is difficult to define their core beliefs, most structuralists deny the need for any model of individual action at all. Apart from other liabilities, this view has dubious ethical implications. Theories that have no place for agents cannot distinguish between individual and collective interests. This means that they afford no basis for evaluating the ethical desirability of existing social arrangements (Coleman 1990: 16â17). In reality, of course, most structural theories in sociology do rely implicitly on models of individual action. This makes them vulnerable to many of the same criticisms levelled at rational choice theories, however. This paucity of other methodologically and ethically attractive theoretical options helps account for the resilience of rational choice.
I believe that substantively richer models of individual actionâbased on rigorous independent measures of agentsâ valuesâcan strengthen rational choice theory. Discovering the conditions in which particular values come to the fore thus is a crucial goal. Nonetheless, this incrementalist strategy of theoretical modification entails a risk illustrated in the history of astronomy by Thomas S. Kuhn (1970). To account for a growing number of unexpected empirical observations, Ptolemyâs earth-centred theory of the planetary system had to be progressively modified by adding numerous epicycles. This only made the theory increasingly complex and obscure. Copernicusâs elegant heliocentric model supplanted the clumsier Ptolemaic one because it provided a much more economical explanation of planetary movements. Thick models of individual action invariably complicate the simple core of rational choice theory.
Yet this added complexity does not necessarily vitiate the theory. In the remainder of this chapter, I illustrate how thick theory is being used by a small and brave group of historical sociologists.