Introduction
I shall begin my investigation with three little stories that seem to me emblematic for the problems of theorizing about our actions. My thesis is that the way we go about it is deeply flawed most of the time, as it involves us in using criteria and standards that are inappropriate for illuminating the world of praxis. This might not be news for most of us, since for quite some time there has been a considerable groundswell against the naivete of âprimersâ, pawned off on unwitting graduate students, that are supposed to get them from a theory-informed question to a research design, so that the users arrive at some scientific truth. Actually those âprimersâ may be little more than training devices that allow those following the instructions to jump with some bravura through the hoops, which the âprofessionâ in its search for legitimacy has invented.
But then again even if we are less theory-obsessed and put our faith instead in the exploration and codification of practices, the belief that a set of practices having proven their usefulness in certain arenas â such as bookkeeping â is likely to provide us also with the appropriate tools for dealing with complex issues of peace-keeping depends on a rather heroic metaphysical assumption: that the continuity of nature provides us with âone worldâ which can be grasped by âone viewâ â the theoria of yore â which nowadays is identified with science, and that no significant differences exist between the theoretical and the practical world. Obviously, something more has to be said on those points. It seems that being enthralled with theory, or with method, or with recording apparently successful practices, we tend to forget â or leave unexplored â that some characteristics of action call into question the assumption âone worldâ.
If we are engaged in praxis, we are unfortunately, not moving within but are transcending the realm of nature. Thus, just for starters, in the social world we have to deal with âmind-dependentâ and not with ânaturalâ facts, a problem that make transitions between the physical world and that of praxis tricky. True, the dissent within the IR fraternity to the modus operandi of the âmainstreamâ, which wants to build grand theories has become more vocal over the years, as exemplified by the second and third âgreat debateâ. But it is questionable whether the ensuing debates can lead us out of the cave, since much attention is being paid to indicators, measurements and data for logical inferences, while important conceptual issues are neglected. This explains perhaps why many of the new departures, announcing a new debate, are quickly re-grooved into the old song and dance, whose steps and melodies we already know. In a way, this saves us perhaps from venturing into the empty spaces of the unfamiliar, but it also prevents us from discovering something different.
As a quick illustrative example, I just point to the long debate on whether the logic of appropriateness or the logic of consequences is the better âpredictorâ of outcomes.1 Most of the various champions for espousing one logic did not seem to realize that they had just rediscovered the wheel, since the controversy between deontologist and consequentialists has been with us for a very long time. But the real issue of whether prediction and explanation are really the two sides of the same coin, and whether reasons are causes was hardly addressed. Interestingly, few people in the IR community2 seemed to have understood that these problems could not be solved by some tests, as the most crucial analogy between reasons and causes is conceptually more demanding. Consequently, the issues are not simply empirical â which a test could solve â but the very question what could count as a âtestâ for answering this question is raised, and here it appears we encounter paradoxes which we can only circumvent by not going down certain traditional garden paths which lead to nowhere.
Or take the endless and essentially mistaken discussion about whether norms are only intervening variables3 rather than causes, which explains the âplayâ we see when comparing the actually obtained compliance with what we would have expected when reading the rules. Of course, there is here an additional erroneous assumption that all norms work in the same way â perhaps with the exception of values and principle â because the latter are fuzzy and can be stated only in general terms (such as: do good) and thus do not provide firm guidance. So the remedy seems to be: state the norms as clearly as possible â which is precisely what also a theory would tell us; in doing so it also follows that the terms we use have to be clearly operationalized and that we also must observe the taxonomic principles of exclusive attribution.
While one can hardly be âagainstâ clarity of expression, things are a bit more complicated. Both underlying assumptions are obviously in need of considerable repair (or must be rejected outright). First, no rule âmakesâ you behave in a certain fashion, analogous to the way in which a solid body hitting another makes the latter move according to Newtonâs law of actio est reactio. As Wittgenstein remarks: âA rule stands there like a signpost. Does the signpost leave no doubt about the way I have to go?â4 Obviously not, there might be two or more ways of âgetting thereâ with different demands on time, skill or by offering spectacular vistas as opposed to short cuts. In addition, I can change my mind and decide to call it a day, and not even come back later as other matters preoccupy me.
Second, not all norms are of the same order: the norms of criminal law or tax law do not leave it up to us to decide to comply. On the other hand, the enabling norms of contract law leave it up to us and might make a contract voidable if some of the formal prescriptions were violated. So prohibitions (not to do something), demands (to do something), and liberties (allowing you to do something) have overlapping but different logics, which exceed the paradigm of efficient cause prevalent in science.5 Third, we have to realize that neither of the problems can be cured by a âclearâ formulation â according to the old notion that reality has to be adequately captured by our terms. The simple rule âno vehicles in the parkâ is as clear as it can be, but its potential indeterminacy has nothing to do with how norms affect my will, nor with the notion of precision, which norms allegedly lack since they are not statements of fact. Is a skateboard a vehicle? Is it a vehicle if the contraption it has an engine, even if the latter is battery-powered? But why can a diesel truck of the fire brigade enter the park in order to take a short cut to a fire? Finally, if it turns out that such seemingly empirical rules do not much better than complicated principles, such as âfree speechâ or âdue processâ â which lead to endless controversies because their generality and/or imprecision â what should we make of such explanations? Should they not make us wonder instead why we think that making rules as simple and âempiricalâ as possible â in ways that are similar to the protocols outlining the necessary steps for lab procedures and experiments â could serve as templates? Should we then not â by extension â wonder why the stories which provide us with the data of the social world are not such âlistsâ and the data they record are not like the rocks we use for âbuildingâ houses, and that even the analogy of a âpracticeâ to a recipe (not only listing the ingredients but specifying also a sequence of actions) is still grossly misleading?
I want to leave those questions, raising âphilosophicalâ issues for now in abeyance, as we will consider them from different angles throughout the book. For the moment I just want to alert the reader to the fact that decreasing popularity of grand theorizing even among mainstream scientists â instead of âgetting on with oneâs workâ is not convincing as long we believe that the real race is still on for getting via a different epistemological strategy a good theory that lets us build a better mousetrap. What we should be questioning is whether we should be building mousetraps in the first place â to stay with the metaphor â rather than learn how to sail and navigate, so that we can make new voyages to get to know the unknown.
For making this point explicit I want the reader to reflect in this chapter on three stories, which cast considerable doubt on the âtheory projectâ. They might be disconcerting and also seem unconnected at first, but their connection will become clearer as we go through the subsequent chapters. Here, I just want to do three things: first, trip up the reader by showing how what we consider normal, might be worth a second thought. I do so because any learning presupposes, as a first step the examination of our questions. This might necessitate some âunlearningâ (that is the Socratic part of the enterprise). Second, since I do not want to leave the reader with the feeling that he has been tripped up for no purpose, I offer below a mapping exercise, which tries to show the most significant differences between the natural world and the social world, which we can ignore only at our peril (this is the Aristotelian and ordinary language part of the exercise) Third, I offer a Gedankenexperiment â in a way presenting a preliminary balance sheet for those who are still sceptical about my âa-theoreticalâ take. It consists in taking arguendo the traditional prescriptions for building grand theories of the social realm seriously, and show what following such an advice actually entails. As it turns out, very little of what interests us in the social world could be addressed in such a theoretical straight jacket. This is where the link to pragmatism becomes visible.
Fortunately, hardly anybodyâs research strictly follows the traditional canon, and usually chucks much of the âtheoretical baggageâ in midstream, as Kenneth Abbott has so nicely shown in the case of sociology;6 but the same observations could be made in political science or IR. That might be all well, since it makes the actual work more interesting, when âvariablesâ and structures are left behind and actual actors and their choices are introduced in the âcasesâ discussed. This is not to say, that variable research is beside the point and thatâs structures do not matter. The real issue is rather different from such a misplaced dichotomy. After all, we all know that we can only act when certain things can be taken for granted and that the institutions provide us with such a structured environment. The question is then rather how institutions function since they can neither be simply reduced to an intentional action scheme, nor are they well captured by the notion of a âconstraintâ, as they obviously also enable actions. This was the puzzle which animated Humeâs Inquiry where he unearthed the âconventionalâ character of social action and which led him in his History of England â dealing with issues of unintended consequences, transgenerational âongoing concernsâ and âsettlementsâ â to clarify some of the problems of the (re-)production of social order. It also puts the problems with which Kant struggled all his life, in perspective. First in the tension between his two Critiques, which were hardly alleviated by his Third Critique where he explicitly dealt with the problem of a teleology, by the introduction of a âcunning of reasonâ in his social philosophy, a notion that sits, however, badly with his notion of free action and the rigour of his ethics.7
With those considerations in mind let us now go to the âthree storiesâ.
The three stories
The first story concerns a straightforward critique of classical variable theorizing that had never assuaged my doubts that the traditional theoretical approach is appropriate for analysing problems of praxis. Praxis always takes place in time and is thus contingent; but, more importantly it takes place in a historical time. which the simple âbeforeâ and âafterâ of the arrow of homogenous time badly captured. Besides, as the laws of nature have to be the same today as they were yesterday or will be tomorrow, they also can be expressed in a time-independent mathematical function which tells you what happens to the other value (or variable) if the value of the first changes. After all, what is true has to be universally and necessarily so. Therefore, there can be events, but no surprises, as everything is captured by the values in the equation.
My misgivings were heightened when I found a standard social science book on change. It honed in on the tension between the â in a way â a-temporal concept of âtruthâ on which our theories are based, and the question whether such an approach could provide us with useful practical knowledge, as something is âleft outâ even if we want to analyse only the quite mundane case of âcookingâ. True, there are recipes that name all the ingredients and their measures and thus anything resulting from this mix has to be describable in terms of the changed properties or values these elements take on during the process. So far so good, as the analogy to the ex ante specification of the variables, explaining the outcome, seems at first blush to fit. But then again it would be strange if in the cookbook there were not also specific instructions as to when the particular ingredients have to be mixed or added, since getting the timing wrong could result in disastrous outcomes, and âmistakesâ in the sequencing might be as severe or even worse than getting the amounts wrong, or not paying attention to the prescribed changes in temperature during the process.
In short, this story articulates a certain unease with the standard methods we use in explaining, as they are remaining largely oblivious to the importance of irreversible timing and sequencing. Things get however still more difficult in the next two stories where we no longer deal with mind-independent elements that an actor uses in producing something, but which are mind-dependent as they are constitutive concepts. Consequently, further conceptual adjustments have to be made, that explode the observational paradigm and standard positivist epistemology. Since the outcome is not governed by the existence or the fitting of pre-given elements but results from contra-factually stabilized norms, their use has to be investigated. Here again the model of applying a norm to some facts as it occurs in the adjudicative context (third party norm application) is not really helpful for illuminating what goes on in actual interactions of actors, although for the participants this does not seem to generate a great p...