Alvin W.Gouldner

Sociologist and Outlaw Marxist

James J. Chriss

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2018
• eBook ISBN: 9780429852466
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Sociology
• Index: Social Sciences

Published in 1999, this book is an exploration of the life and work of American sociologist Alvin W. Gouldner. Gouldner's life and contribution to legal theory is a case study in the limits of critical, self-reflexive inquiry. Hegel's dialect is a major theme running throughout Gouldner's work, and, even throughout his life, Gouldner himself seemed trapped in the unfolding of the spirit through three distinct stages: 1945-1960 - thesis; 1960-1970 - antithesis; and 1970-1980 - synthesis or new thesis. Implications for creating a reflexive critical sociology in Gouldner's image are discussed.

1 Understanding or Explaining Gouldner?

Introduction

In Enter Plato, Alvin W. Gouldner (1965a) passes some rather harsh judgments on historians of social theory, claiming that the great majority of their works "have commonly been deficient in the virtues of both history and sociology, usually lacking the historian's grasp of documented detail and the sociologist's analytical thrust or imagination" (p. 167).

One master trend of modernity, namely structural differentiation and task specialization (see Alexander and Colomy 1990), seemingly assures the history of social theory's inability to contribute important insights into the human condition, primarily because intellectuals trained in one discipline are apt not to be aware of, or else feel they are incompetent to utilize, the methods, concepts, or analytical frameworks of competing or even neighboring disciplines. As a multidisciplinary project, the history of social theory must ask its practitioners to bring to bear not only the technical expertise of their own discipline, but also be sensitive to the insights and critical assessments that other disciplinary frameworks can contribute to explaining objects of social inquiry.

Gouldner suggests that the history of social theory is an intellectual genre comprised of at least three parts—history, sociology, and criticism— and that the most important role the historian of social theory plays is that of critic. The role of critic, at least within the context of modern social science with its emphasis on quantitative methods, positivism, and the assumption of value-free knowledge, has become largely inimical to the goal of building a cumulative science that sees little utility in visiting and reflecting back upon great intellectual predecessors. That is, according to the tenets of positivism and the cumulative nature of scientific knowledge, whatever is useful in the thought of earlier generations has presumably been absorbed into current disciplinary canons. Hence the history per se of theorists is rendered at best an academic exercise reserved largely for graduate students, while at worst, a waste of time representing the height of intellectual solipsism and disciplinary navel-gazing.

The critic finds him- or herself caught up in the tension between affirming the creative potential of the individual (insofar as the critic bucks the trend toward disciplinary parochialism), and opposing the demands of conformity to established institutions and culturally standardized roles (Gouldner 1965a, p. 170). The critic hates routinization of his or her professional role; derives little pleasure from the traditional rewards the university confers upon him or her (e.g., good student evaluations or peer reviews; the occasional merit-based promotion along the tenure track¹); resists compromising his or her beliefs for the sake of political expediency; cares more for the creativity of a scholarly performance rather than its reliability or utility. In sum, the critic detests the domestication of intellectual life in whatever form it may take.

The critic, then, must always be aware of the disjunction and differences between his own profession and himself, and must struggle ceaselessly against surrendering herself to routine and the cozy "perks" of intellectual life (whatever there really are of them). As Gouldner (1965a, p. 170) states:

The historical mission of the social theorist is to assist mankind in taking possession of society. The task of the historian of theory is to assist us in taking possession of our own intellectual heritage, past or present, by appraising it actively—which is to say, critically—in terms of our viable interests.

Gouldner's point in all of this is to suggest that the history of social theory has failed primarily because analysis of theorists and theories has remained largely descriptive, and has rarely attempted to get "inside" the prevailing culture and structure of the theorist's place and time, that is, to make an explicit connection between biography, culture, history, and social structure (Mills 1959).

Drawing connections between the social contexts of theorists and the theories which they produce (this being the work of the sociology of knowledge) is Gouldner's vision of the good life, insofar as the history of social theory is concerned. But the metatheoretical project of probing into these connections, rather than merely describing the technical details of a theory or the characteristics of a particular theory group, should not be reserved only for historians of social theory. Rather, Gouldner suggests that this work ought to be engaged in reflexively by theorists themselves. Only when theorists make explicit their tacit domain assumptions (epistemology, ontology, axiology) can they understand how commitments made at this silent, infrastructural level impact the overt, technical level of a theory, that is, the actual theoretical system itself.

Gouldner's aspiration for a reflexive sociology was a heartfelt attempt to rectify what he believed to be an ongoing crisis in sociology and the social sciences more generally. All theories, according to Gouldner, tend to become self-enclosed systems which cannot admit of, or often are blind to, the repressed or hidden potentialities of the system (be they negative or positive). In effect, by systematically blocking off access to the tacit domain assumptions of a theory out of ignorance or out of fear of what lies waiting there, theorists will continue to produce theories that are doomed to continual cycles of failure and intermittent fits and starts. Only by being true to oneself, that is, by having an understanding of one's and others' assumptions about the world and one's place in it, can a theory survive the dynamic flux of the social system within which it and its author are embedded. Only then can theorists maintain fidelity to the empirical social world.

But if indeed historians of social theory and social theorists themselves are to embrace the role of critic, as Gouldner espouses, how far can or should this critical, self-reflexive method be taken? Isn't it surely the case that somewhere along the way such a self-reflexive program of critical theory will reach a point of diminishing returns? Can the line easily be drawn between criticism for the sake of clarifying one's philosophical commitments, thereby setting the stage for the creation of a distortion-free, liberating vision of society, on the one hand, and criticism merely for the sake of criticism, on the other?

Gouldner seemed to have arrived at the horns of this dilemma near the end of his life, and was leaning toward the position that indeed the program of critical self-reflexivity becomes a "runaway norm" which, by folding back upon itself and bringing into doubt the very foundations of its own assumptions and cognitive framework through endless cycles of self-reflexive critique, ultimately disestablishes everything in its path, including itself.

This book tells the tale of a gifted thinker struggling with this essential paradox. Alvin Gouldner's life and work reflected this struggle with the internal contradictions of legitimate knowledge, and how to maintain critical insights into that knowledge rather than accepting it passively, the latter of which serving merely to reaffirm and accept the status quo. There have been many forms of oppression justified on the basis of the status quo, and Gouldner tried to create a program of inquiry that was alive and sensitive to this reality. Yet even while championing this form of self-critique, Gouldner also realized that the system would eventually collapse back upon itself, thereby bringing into question the very foundations upon which its own knowledge rests. Gouldner thus came to realize that he had created, at least metaphorically, a Frankenstein's monster and let it loose in the world.

Before we get to the heart of the lessons to be learned from this examination of Gouldner (to be dealt with in the last chapter) we must first ask several important questions Gouldner surely must have pondered on more than one occasion. How does one simultaneously create legitimate knowledge that is both liberating and humane, but without going in the direction of radical or egoistic individualism, such as what has happened with the emphasis on self-esteem and empowerment that afflicts psychology, management, and the modern therapeutic state more generally (see Chriss 1999a)? Also, of equal importance, which model or vision of knowledge and science should be embraced in this effort to produce a socially beneficial social theory? And is the major aim of social theory to "explain" the world (in the positivistic sense of deductive-nomothetic reasoning), or rather to "understand" it (as in hermeneutics and ideographic reasoning)?

Understanding versus Explanation

Although Gouldner was initially trained in the orthodox methods of positivistic, quantitative sociology during his years at Columbia University, he eventually moved toward a position closer to hermeneutics, that is, a theoretical approach stressing cultural understanding and historical interpretation over the explanation of "brute" facts through logical deduction. Gouldner, however, did not completely escape this dialectic between explanation and understanding. Even though Gouldner lamented the failure of academic sociology, with its emphasis on positivism, utilitarianism, and nomothetic causation, he nevertheless insisted that academic sociology had liberative potentials at its core that could be "cracked open" through a concerted program of reflexive sociology.²

Gouldner's opting for hermeneutics over positivism, and the tensions between the two that are illustrated throughout his writings, appears in line with Hegel's (1967) distinction between the world of mere appearances, on the one hand, and the "supersensible" world, this being the assumption that unseen laws operate to create and animate phenomena of interest, on the other. Hence, the distinction is made between understanding phenomena as things-in-themselves based on surface appearances versus explaining these things on the basis of universal and timeless laws which in effect transcend concrete phenomena and the particularities of place and time.

Even so, Gouldner's brand of hermeneutics must be seen as somewhat distinct from the more anti-scientistic hermeneutics of a Dilthey, Dewey, James, Peirce, or Gadamer. As Sica (1986, p. 152) argues,

...Gouldner expresses a conceptualization of rationality that fits comfortably within sociology's self-understanding today, and is therefore even further distanced from the hermeneutic and axiological version familiar to Gadamer's readers.

This "backing-off" by Gouldner from an unbridled hermeneutics reflects a part of Gouldner's training and world view which assumed that the Enlightenment program of rational, positivistic science was a "good" thing. The good that science promises to deliver through systematic measuring of society and its parts is a value-free and objective knowledge about the world that ultimately would lead to the elimination of suffering and the creation of the good and just society. Gouldner's position is that the baby—the Enlightenment project of rationality with its promise of the perfectibility of human beings and society—must not be thrown out with the bath water—the false consciousness of scientist who believe that through an adherence to deductive, nomothetic methods, an Archemedian point could be reached which provides a pristine vision of the social world free from the particular values or aspirations of scientists.³ Hence, no matter how badly sociology was failing its mission of creating knowledge about the world for purposes of liberating mankind from oppressive social conditions, Gouldner insisted on a rational reconstruction of sociology and social theory. This rationality is the last vestige of the Enlightenment project which favors systematic inquiry over superstition, dogma (religious or otherwise), illusion, ideology, and vanguard parties.

Philosophy and Hermeneutics

Gouldner goes on to argue that perhaps one of the most destructive consequences of positivistic social science is that, because it assumes that knowledge accumulates over time, important insights from the past become irrelevant as current objects of inquiry (see also Camic 1998; Sica 1998; Turner 1996). Positivistic sociology, and Enlightenment-based social science more generally, armed now with a methodology which, it is assumed, provides greater clarity into the workings of the world than has ever been available before, is able thereby to make a radical break from the past, and as a consequence philosophy, along with religion and ideology, are deemed obsolete because of their antiquity.⁴

This closing off of the historical continuities and insights that philosophy has to offer is one of the tragedies of modern social science. It is a tragedy because true understanding of the human condition can only be attained through diligent engagement with the texts of thinkers representing diverse cultures, historical epics, and interests. Modern social science did not appear on the scene ex nihilo as a virgin birth. Rather, it arrived after a long gestation, the delivery of the offspring occurring only after centuries of excruciating and fitful labor.

By the time of the publication of Enter Plato in 1965 and continuing through the early 70s, Gouldner was increasingly occupied with conceptualizing the basis upon which a truly liberative social science could operate, one which maintained fidelity both with the past as well as the present. One important component of this for Gouldner was the assurance that a community of thinkers are able to negotiate visions of the good life relatively free from coercion or the threat of brute force. Although individuals come to consciousness and make their way through an objective world, Gouldner felt that the classical Greek ideal of dialogue—especially as represented in Plato's version of the dialectic (Gouldner 1965a, pp. 380-388)—held the greatest promise for assuring community and also acting as a check against the potential arbitrariness, whim, or caprice of solitary actors.

The dialectic, in the classic Greek sense, possesses the following characteristics:

• it is a tensionful form of social interaction that follows a logical set of rules for participation;
• these rules of discussion constitute one basis for esteem and self-esteem of the participants;
• all other things that otherwise serve to characterize speakers and hearers (e.g., race, ethnicity, gender, wealth, occupation, age) are excluded from the judgment of the worth or truth of speech;
• even though such status generalizations are formally excluded from consideration, they are nevertheless recognized as continuously and consequentially present in the speaker and his or her speech (Gouldner 1972, p. 13).

Anyone familiar with continental philosophy and modern German social theory will no doubt recognize that Gouldner's characterization of the dialectic is a fairly close approximation to Jurgen Habermas's (1971, 1984, 1987) notion of the ideal speech situation and his later theory of communicative action. As early as 1970 Gouldner was appreciative of Habermas's position that the most elemental social condition of rational discourse is the elimination of force and violence or its threat.

Although Gouldner was indeed supportive of Habermas early on, primarily because of his connection with the Frankfurt School of critical theory (see Gouldner 1970a, p. 113), we will see that Gouldner grew increasingly more ambivalent and even critical toward Habermas's project after 1970. This parting of the ways came about partly as a result of Habermas's negative view of hermeneutics, which of course Gouldner was favoring more and more by the early 70s.⁵ Habermas was not as willing as Gouldner and other critical theorists to accept the claim that hermeneutics represents a distinctive or unique methodology for delivering understandings of society above and beyond the level of explanation claimed by positivist social science.

This disagreement between Habermas and Gouldner is crucial for setting the stage for a variety of strands of discussion which I will be picking up in later chapters. The disagreement involves battles over epistemology and ontology, and between realism and nominalism. These disagreements impact such issues as consciousness, the dialectical method, whether and to what extent doing philosophy is "different" from doing science, and to what extent (if any) the cultural sciences are "different" from the natural sciences.

The key points of the Gouldner-Habermas debate go something like this. Habermas (1971) argues that through the very act of philosophical reflection, that is, the attempt to look at the wor...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title
• Copyright
• Contents
• Preface
• Acknowledgments
• 1 Understanding or Explaining Gouldner?
• 2 The Early Years and Industrial Sociology
• 3 The 1960s and Transition
• 4 The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology
• 5 Gouldner, Parsons, and the New Left
• 6 Ideology, Intellectuals, and the New Class
• 7 Nightmare Marxism
• Bibliography
• Index