LACAPRA, D. Emile Durkheim - Sociologist and Philosopher [Em Inglês]

Emile Durlffieim

Sociologist and Philosopher

Dominick LaCapra

Critical Studies in the Humanities Victor E. Taylor - Series Editor

The Davies Group, Publishers Aurora, Colorado

11 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher Copyright© 1972 by Cornell University Revised edition copyright© 2001 by Dominick LaCapra

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

LaCapra, Dominick, 1939-

Emile Durkheim : sociologist and philosopher I Dominick La Capra. p. em. (Critical studies in the humanities)

Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 1-888570-60-1 (alk. paper) I. Durkheim, Emile, 1858-1917. 2. Durkheimian school of

sociology. I. Series. HM465 .L33 2001

30 1' .092 dc21

2001028598

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Printed in the United States of America. Published 200 1. The Davies Group , Publishers. Aurora, Colorado.

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zv Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

Critical Studies i n the Humanities Victor E . Taylor, Series Editor

This open-ended series provides a unique publishing venue by combining single volumes issuing from landmark scholarship with pedagogy-related interdiscipl inary co l lections of readings. This principle of cross-publishing, placing scholarship and pedagogy side by side within a single series, creates a wider horizon for specialized research and more general in te l lectual discovery. In the broad fie ld of the humanities, the Cri tical Studies in the Humanities Series is committed to preserving key monographs, encouraging new perspectives, and developing important connections to pedagogical issues. Proposal> for submission should go to the Series Editor, Victor E. Taylor, Department of English and Humanities, York College of Pennsylvania, York, PA 17405-7199.

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Foreword

Preface, 2001

1. Introduction

2. Durkheim's Milieu

3. The Division of Social Labor Quo Vadis Mechanical and Organic Solidarity Conscience Collective Crime and Punshment Traditional Differentiation Theory of Change

Residual Dou bts Con tract and Solidarity Modem Social Pathology

4. Suicide and Solidarity The Object and Limitations of Suicide Anomie and Egoism Altruism and Fatalism Durkheim and weber From Analysis to Refonn

5. Theory and Practice Sociolog]J, History. and Reform Corporatism The Individual and Society

Contents

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Vlt

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1

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15

15

79

83

86

96

110

114

118

122

137

137

147

160

165

170

179

179

200

211

v1 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

6. The Sacred and Society

Epilogue

The Theory of Religion Sociology and Epistemology Social Metaphysic

Selected Bibliography

Index

235 236 251

262

281

285

297

Foreword

In the past several decades, the dominance of crit ica l theory i n in t erdisc

i p l inary scholarship has l e d to the reformulation of the bas ic propos it ions

guiding research in the humanit ies and soc ia l sciences. While scholars i n

var ious discipl ines cont inue t o express their concern over the status of tradi

t ional forms of inqui ry in response to the radical nature of crit ica l theory, i t

i s important t o note that these theoret ical incursions into traditional research methods h ave made possible p roductive reappraisals of key his torical hgures

and their contributions to in te l lectual l ife . In Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher, Domin ick La Capra, a leading theoretical histor ian, offers an

important revi sed crit ical analysis of Durkheim's methodological and phi lo

sophical pursuits , with an emphasis on the metaphysical, epistemological,

and ethica l problems inherent in fo rming constructs of the cultural and social spheres. Whi l e Durkheim's thought did not " influence s ignificantly,

if at a l l , the wr i tings of Roland Barthes, G i l l e s Deleuze, Jacques Derr ida,

Miche l Foucaul t , Ju l ia Kristeva, Jacques Lacan, Jean-Fran<;:o i s Lyotard and

other recent thinkers . . . the tradit ion he he lped in i t iate was quite important

for such figures as P ierre Bourdieu, [Marcel .\1auss], Claude Levi-Strauss,

and members of the Annales schoo l " ( ix ) . I t is s ignificant to note that in add i tion to presenting Durkheim as a crucial resource for current theoretical

sociologists , LaCapra's revised study s i tuates Durkheim's major wr i t ings in

re lat ion to the current poststructuralist c r i t iques of one of his central issues,

"the role of reason in life and its relation to normative l imits and the senti

ment of so l i darity among members of society" (3 ) . Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher i s a theoretically charged reexaminat ion of the historical

and in tellectual contexts that gave r ise to a unique method of ph i losophical socio logy, providing readers from a wide range of interests with an important

crit ica l reappraisal of Durkheim's l ife and wr it ings.

Victor E . Taylor, Series Editor

vm Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

Preface :I 2001

Whi l e I have revised certain fo rmulations, added materia l , and updated a number of footnotes, I have retained much that appeared in the original

edition of this , my first book . Sti l l , there are times when supplementary

statements and seemingly small changes of inflect ion may significantly

transform meanings. In any case, I would maintain that the issues raised in

the book st i l l preoccupy us, especial ly on the level of bas ic or background

assumptions . Perhaps the key ethical and pol it ical issue i n this respect is

the actual and desirable interact ion between legit imate l imi ts and excessive

overtures or transgressive initiatives - a recurrent issue that must always

be further differentiated with respect to different sociohistorical contexts

and groups. This is a crucial issue in the relation be tween structuralism and

poststructuralism, and it calls not for an either/or decision but for an analysis

of complex relations and difficult choices in part icular circumstances.

Since the writing of this book, figures largely ignored, relatively un

known, or stil l l ittle published in the late sixties and early seventies have come

to the forefront of French thought, and their work has el icited responses

in int ellecrual circles around the world. They have effected a reordering of

the canon of critical theory in a manner that we are only starting to rethink

and in part redress. Durkheim's work did not influence significantly, if at

all, the writings of Roland Barthes, G i lles De leuze, Jacques Den·ida, Miche l

Foucau l t , Jul ia Kristeva, Jacques La can, J ean-F ran<;:ois Lyotard and other re

cent thinkers, although the tradit ion he he lped init iate was quite important for such figures as Pierre Bourdieu, Claude Levi-Strauss, and members of

the Annales school . And when this book was first written, one did not see

Georges Batail le and others in and around the College de Sociologie as miss

ing l inks between Durkheim and Mauss, on the one hand, and Levi-Strauss

and his poststructural respondents, on the other. But one may nonethe l ess

argue that a reconsideration of Durkheim and his pe rspective on social

and ethical problems becomes more necessary in light of the emphases of

Batail l e , Derrida, Foucaul t , and other recent figures. For the latter often

x Emile Durkhcim; Sociologist and Philosopher

stress the role of excess, undecidability, hyperbole , and transgression in a

manner that calls for a counter-stress on the role of limits. One may also

argue that Durkheim's concerns provide needed mediation between the

liberal tradition that draws from Tocqueville and the exorbitant radicalism

drawing from Foucault and other post structuralists-traditions that typi

cally have little to do with each other. 1

Indeed, when one rereads Durkheim today, one is struck by a pronounced

feature of his thought-in one significant sense, a civic virtue-to which

I would like to call attention: his stylistic decorum and poise in addressing

difficult if not intractable problems. While he may in certain respects be

criticized for having too distant a perspective on the anomie disorientation

he diagnosed, he may also be seen as attempting to embody, in his very

style of writing and thought, the ethicopolitical vision he had for society

-a rhetorical and dialectical enactment ci the ends he advocated for social

and cultural life at large. This attempt to work through the problems he

analyzed may have required a more complex approach, both stylistic and

sociopolitical, indeed an approach that was itself more empa thically moved

and even disturbed by the conflicted problems he perceived in the larger

social context. However, there is also much to be said for the tense, flexible

interaction between limits and chalknges to them that Durkheim desired

in the larger society and to some extent performatively displayed in his own

conception of problems. Such an emphasis may both serve as a counterforce

to all-or-nothing responses and have significant implications for the crucial

social issues I try to address in this book.

I thank Tracie Matysik for her assistance in preparing the index.

Nous

On this problem se my History and Reading: Tocqz�n�zlk, Foualult, French Studies (Toronto: University ofToronto Press, 200). See also my W+iting History. W+iting Trmmltl (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Pres, 2001}. These books complement the present study in a variety of ways. See also The ColoJSociology 1937-39, ed. Denis Hollier (Minneapol is: University of Minnesota Press, 1988).1

1

Introduction

If you wish to mature your thought, attach yourself to the scrupulous study of a great master; inquire into a system until you reach its most secret workings.

- Advice of Emile Durkheim to a disciple

The present study attempts to provide a comprehensive interpretation and assessment of the thought of Emile Durkheim. Largely, i t falls within the venerable tradit ion of the t!tude d u systeme. O ften i t treads the dangerous bu t challenging line between haute vulgarisation and a history of a learned discipl ine. Its pr imary ob ject i s to treat D u rkheim's thought as an i ntegral whole comprising sociological analysis, po l i cy, and phi losophy.

Some reference is mad e to the work o f other memb ers of the An nee sociologique school that formed around Durkheim as its acknowledged master. In many basic ways, the thought of members of this school was elaborated dialogical ly. And the per iodical that became t h e schoo l's workshop was a

collective product. Durkhei m's thought provided the elementary structure for a close working relationship and a fairly cohesive theoretical out look . But fu l l justice could be rendered to memb ers of the Annie school only in a separate work. Marcel Mauss a lone , who was perhaps inhib i ted in h is scholarly product ion by a life spent in the shadow of his more famous uncle, would require a full-length study to bring out the magnifl cent contributions which he managed to compress into the creative compass of relatively few publ ished works.

I sketch some pertinent features o fDurkheim's b iography and situate his experience within the matrix of his own society. Whi le Durkheim's thought was not merely symptomatic of his mi l i eu , his ideas to a signiflcant extent arose in response to th e needs of the Th i rd Republ ic in France. I n fact ,

he often conceived his own society as a test case of the needs of modern soci ety in general .


Durkheim was the E rst to attemp t the institutionalization in social sci

ence of what Auguste Comte had termed the era of specialization. Durkheim

advised would-be disciples to choose a circumscribed area of enquiry. His

founding of the famed periodical L'Amu!e sociologique was intended to further

this aim. Hence there is much to be gained from seemi ngly so superflcial a task as the examination of the tables of contents of the twelve volumes of the

Annee publ ished under Durkheim, for they embody a tell ing conception of

the classifl catory cadres of sociology i n his mind. In the pages of the Annee and elsewhere, Durkheim's own preferred object o f i nvestigation was the

relationship b e tween society and moral i ty. His very E rst publ ished article

contained a programmatic announcement which exercised a constraining hold on his ent i re l i fe's work: "Of all the various branch es of sociology, the

science of ethics i s the one which attracts us by preference and which wi l l

command our attention E rst of a l l . " L

But Durkhe im retained Comte's overall ambi t ion of ph i lo soph ical

synthesis. He became increasingly convinced that special ized expert ise and

the profess ionalized p urge of di lettant ism should not be effected at the expense of in terdisc ip l i nary coordinat ion and of t h e speculative imaginat ion

restrained, tested, and matured by pat ient i nvestigat ion. Like nearly al l the

members of his school , Durkheim was trained in phi losophy, a preparation

made necessary by the educational system of the time. And despite his earlier

attempts to de£ ne sociology as an autonomous discipl ine , he became con

vinced that all serious enquiry i s founded in philosophy and that philosophy

is related both to understanding and to act ion. It might be said that for Durkheim sociology had not only a scientific field to explore but also an

exploratory vis ion and a civil izing miss ion. I n t ime, sociology culminated

for him in a philosophical anthropology that drew the i nvestigator fro m

methodology to epistemological and even metaphysical problems.

Toward the end of h is l i fe , Durkheim wrote to Geo rges D avy: " H av

ing begun with phi losophy, I tend to return to i t , or rather I have found myse lf drawn back to i t natural ly by the nature o f the quest ions wh i ch I

found in my path . "2 In an important article written at about the same t ime,

Durkheim expressed this need for a return to his phi losophical origins in

more impersonal terms: "S ince our method has b een postulated upon the

attempt to emancipate sociology from a phi losophical tute lage which could

only prevent it fro m being constituted as a pos i tive science, we have at times

Chapter 1 introduction 3

been suspected of a systematic hosti l ity for phi losophy in general or at least

of a more or less exclusive sympathy for a narrow empiricism in which one

has rightly seen only a lesser phi losophy." But an anti-philosophical posi

t ion impl ied , for Durkheim, "a very unsociological at ti tude . " In his mind,

socio logy had "to pose as an axiom that quest ions which have held the ir p lace in history can never be outmoded; they can become transformed but

cannot per i sh . " Here Durkheim touched upon a conception of history

itself neither as mere chronology nor as evo lut ionary development but as

a complex, multidimensional process of displacement, or repetit ion with

more or less controlled, yet at t imes disrupt ively traumatic, change. Thus

he found i t inadmiss ible that "even the most audacious problems which h ave agitated p h i losoph e rs" cou l d ever fall i n to ob l ivion .3 He went on to

conclude that "sociological refl ection i s cal led upon to prolong i tself by its

natural progress under the form of phi losophical refl ection; and everything

permits the assumption that , considered i n this way, the problems which

phi losophy treats wil l present more than one unexpected answer. "4

Thus Durkheim conceived of his project i n terms of a rational coor

dination of social an alysis, informed prescr ipt ive recom m endation, and

phi losophical speculation with special relevance for thought and action in

modern society. He completed only a fragment of a synthetic phi losophical

work entitled "La Mora le . " But , in an important sense, al l his thought was

oriented toward this magisterial treatise on morality - his last will and

testamen t - which he d id not live to complete . For the quest ion running

l ike a red thread through Durkheim's thinking was the role of reason in l i fe and its relation to normative limits and the sentiment of solidarity among

members of society. His ultimate concern with epistemology and metaphysic

subsumed a certain conception of the social system and of morality as its

inner motivati on . In a crucial sense , Durkheim's thought was as much the

culmination of classical philosophy as the initiat ion of modern social science.

Indeed, this ambivalent status const itutes its pecul iar fascinat ion. Part ia l and highly s e lective readings of Durkhe im have often resulted

in grievous misinterpretations. But the attempt through exegesis to set

the record straight by seeing Durkheim whole is admittedly problematic .

This i s b ecause of the seemingly ambiguous character of h is thought itself.

Durkheim i s one o f the best known and one of the least understood maj o r

social thinkers. The controversies that surround his thought bear upon es-


sential points , not details . 5 This state of affairs poses a formidable barrier for

the uninit iated bu t genuinely in terested reader attempting to acquire some

ins ight into his thought and its relevance. Durkheim was a very vigorous

advocate of the idea of a social science. Incongruously, the interpretat ion

of the body of ideas in which he tr ied to lay the foundations of this science seems often to circumscribe it with a magic circle whose center is everywhere

and whose circumference is nowhere.

Since Durkheim's ideas are the object of highly divergent interpretati ons,

it is important to make clear the basic interpretive schema that informs this

study. Unfortunately, to begin a work with even a schematic "showing and

tell ing" brings a loss of dramatic un i ty. The last act i s given away in the first . And aesthetic u n i ty th reatens to be replaced by the ted ious rigor of

a syllogistic treatise . In the case of a thinker l ike Durkheim, i t i s perhaps

better to incur these r isks than to be open to misunderstanding.

Durkheim was a convinced and unrepentant rationalist. To characterize

his own perspective, he rejected all current labels, inc luding the Comtean

and Spencerian fo rms of posi t iv ism. But he was wil l ing to assert that "the sole appellat i on which we accept i s that of rati o n al i sm . Indeed our pr inciple

i s to extend scientific rationalism to human conduct in showing that , con

sidered in the past , i t is reducible to re lat ions of cause and effect which a no

less rational operation can transform into rules for the fu ture ."6 Durkheim

most opposed romantic irrationalism and renascent mysticism as in tu i tive

or excessive responses to the complexi t ies and disorientation of modern

soci ety. His Les Regles de Ia methode sociologique ( The Rules of Sociological Method) was an attempt to do for the study of society what D escartes had

d o ne for the study o f nature . His l ife long ambit ion was to reanimate and

renovate classical rationalism unti l i t became a more fl ex ib le , complex,

generous, and informed medium of both thought and action. Reason for

Durkheim had i ts full tradit ional sense: i t was a mode of analysis, crit icism,

prescript ion , and reconstruction in soci ety.

Un int imidated by the app l i cat i o n of the sociology of knowledge to so

ciology itself, Durkheim concluded that sociology was the product of two

maj or historical and cultural forces: the manifestation of rationalism in the

natural sciences and the concrete experience of disruptive crisis in modern

societ ies . The role of reason in the study of nature int imated a promising

fu ture for rationalism in social science. But the second and more existential


cause was perhaps the more important . For Durkheim, social consciousness

arose in response to the doubt , disorientation, and anomie anxiety caused by

the breakdown of tradit ion. The ro l e of rational consciousness was t o state

as clearly as possible the causes of cris is in society and the way to overcome

them. Indeed the primary funct ion of rational conscio usness for Durkheim was reparative: to respond to sometimes traumatic disruption and to replace

what had been destroyed with new forms of l ife . Unlike certain reactionary

conservatives, Durkheim did not present conscious thought as a cause of

disintegration in modern society. He defended consciousness, and science,

which was its highest expression, as the only effective instruments people had

to guide them in reconstructing the social order. Durkheim was concerned with hea l ing, not salvation. His fasc inat ion with medical metaphors attested

to this fact . The sociologist was not the quasi-transcendental advocate of

a messianism without a messiah, the prophet of an abstract, perennially

futurist ic , perhaps vacuous utopian ideal s ituated beyond human l imi

tations. He or she was the doctor who lucidly diagnosed the ills of society

and prescrib ed rational remedies. The all iance of Durkheim's rationalism with his concept ion of the relation of theory to practice and h is di agnosis

of modern society was well expressed in relation to his own society when he

delineated with his habitual combinat ion of analytic rigor and moral fervor

the reasons why sociology (in his sense) was born in France. H i s statement

deserves to be quoted at length:

This [the genesis of sociology in France] was due in the first instance to a marked weakening of tradit ional ism. When religious, pol it ical , and j uridical traditions have preserved their rigidity and authori ty, they contain all wil l toward change and by that token preclude the awakening of reflection. When one is brought up to believe that things must remain as they are, one has no reason to ask what they ought to be and, consequently, what they are. The second factor is what may be called the rationalist spirit . One must have faith in the power of reason in order to dare an attempt to explain in accordance with its laws this sphere of social facts where events, by their complexity, seem to resist the formulas of science. Now France fulfills these two conditions to the highest degree. She is, of all the countries of Europe, the one where the old social organization has been completely uprooted. We have made a tabula rasa, and on this land laid bare we must erect an entirely


new edifl ce - an enterprise whose urgency we have felt for a century bu t which, continually announced and continually delayed, is hardly more advanced today than on the morrow of the French Revolut ion . Furthermore, we are and we remain the land of Descartes. We have an irresisti b l e u rge to see things through deflned notions. No doubt , Cartesianism is an archaic and narrow form of rati onal ism, and we must not rest content with it. But if it is necessary to transcend it, it is even more necessary to conserve its principle. We must fashion for ourselves more complex ways of thought, but we must keep this cult of dist inct ideas, wh ich is at the very root of the French sp i r i t and at the root of all science. 7

Especially signifl cant in this p assage is the existential precedence ac

corded to normative demand with respect to empir ical enqu i ty. It i s when

one feels and thinks that things ought to b e other than they are that one

i s just iflably motivated to inqu i re in to the way they in fact are . Here

research i s not mere ly the resu l t of some autonomized , self-referentia l

methodological imperative. Equal ly signifl cant i s the experience of soc ia l

and personal d i srupt ion , at t imes of traumat ic proportions , i n re lat ion

to the rat ional attempt to create more des i rab le and l ivab le socia l condi

t ions . The tru ly basic ph i lo soph ical tens ion i n the thought of D urkheim

was related to h i s rat ional i sm. I t involved his part ial fai lure to transcend

classical rat ional i sm. D u rkheim's thought was caught up in a tens ion

between the narrowly analytical and the d i a lectical h eritages transmitted

to h i m through Charles Renouvier .

With reference to the most important historical infl uences on Durkheim,

one might s implistically label the narrowly analytical tendency of his thought

a Cartesianized and socialized neo-Kantianism. The most obvious infl uence

of neo-Kantianism was in his passion for dualist ic antinomies or extreme b i nary oppos i t ions . The more profound influence, wh ich fed i n to h i s d i a

lectical attempt to reconcile or at least relate antinomies , was h i s ult imate

afflrmation of a philosophy of fl nitude based upon a normative sense of

l imits . The treatise on morality that Durkheim did not live to complete

would have been a reformulat ion of Kan t's Critique of Practical Reason fl eshed out with the results of sociological reflect ion.

The i n fluence of Cartes ian ism was most obv ious in Durkhe im's re l i ance

upon the antinomy between mind and matter. This antinomy was expressed


in the idea of homo duplex - the dual nature of man - which was inter

preted by Durkheim in terms of the oppos it ion b e tween the organic and

what h e called the sui generis or specifically soc ia l . By th is interpretation,

Durkheim arrived at the idea that mind was made up of a "sui generis realm of social facts . " Socio logy was defined i n the firs t instance not by its perspective or method bu t by the supposedly autonomous status o f its

ob ject, which was identified with the object of idealist ic phi losophy. But the

sociologistic revision of the idea of homo dup lex was only the most extreme

example o f Durkheim's tendency to force "clear and distinct ideas" beyond

conceptual analysis, or the elaborat ion of ideal types, into an analytical

dissociation of reali ty. The no t ion o f the d i a l e ct ical is mos t o ften assoc i a ted with the name

of H egel, but before the l imi t s of knowledge that Hege l attempted to

transcend were reached, Kant himself so ught a nontota l iz ing mediat ion

of ant inomies . Kant , l ike Durkhe im, i s perhaps best seen as pr imar i ly a

moral phi losopher. His conception of rel igion, l ike that o f D urkheim, was

related to the needs of pract ical reason. B u t i n his Critique of judgment, Kant saw t h e centra l pos i t ion of aesthetics in its mediat ion of oppos i t ions . 8

And Kant's concept ion o f re l ig ion itself held out the promise of reso lv

ing, or a t least mit igating, the tragic ant inomies which divided peop le i n

a way that wa s more than aesthetic because i t was, from hi s perspective,

more than sub jective.

Durkheim d id no t recognize the importance of Kant 's Critique of judgment. His studies of "primi rive" cultures d id not open up to him the importance of aesthetics and the ways in which art, when not autonomized

or made narrowly self-referential , might itself be more than a subj ective or

p urely formal phenomenon. Nor d id these studies ful ly reveal to him the

l imitat ions of a purely sociologica l view of rel igion. His interpretation of

religion culminated in a vision of society as a rather disincarnate functional

equivalent of divinity - somewhat a collective ghost in a "morphological" mach ine .

The antipathy between positivism and ideal ism, which Talcott Parsons,

in his Structure ofSociaiAction, took as the faulted foundation o fDurkheim's

thought, is best seen as a facet of Durkheim's Cartesianized neo-Kantian

ism. Indeed, the phi losophical assumptions of bo th these methodological

foci were ideal ist ic or, in Durkheim's own term, "hyperspiritual ist ic ." In


the context o f h i s idea of homo duplex, which identifl ed mind and society,

pos i tivism and ideal ism related to aspects of the ideal , autonomous object

that society was for Durkheim.

In Durkheim's ear ly thought , posi tivism was most pronounced. I t was

epitomized in the assertion in The Rules of Sociological Method that social facts were to be treated l ike things. By this Durkheim did not mean onto logi

cally to classify "social facts" among material things. But he d id en join the

sociologist to adopt a methodological attitude of extreme obj ectivism in the

study of society. Perhaps the pr imary meaning of" social fact" for Durkheim

was the institutional norm. Yet in the study of the genesis , structure, and

functioning of institutions, Durkheim carried the analogical value of the natural sc iences to a po in t at which he tended to deny t h e spec iflc i ty of a

science of persons. Intentions were placed beyond the realm of scientifl c

enquiry. The idea that empathy served as a means of understanding in the

social sciences was rejected out of hand. And the specifl c nature of symbolic

activity in society seemed to be both emphasized, at t imes ideal is tically

exaggerated, and denied, especial ly through misleading metaphors and methodo logical injunct ions .

Durkheim's early posi tivism presented society primarily as an "action

system," and structure as the essence of social facts. Methodologica lly, i t

focused upon two sorts o f causation (often conceived "mechanistically" ) :

e ffl cient and functional . I t attempted to determine h o w "social facts" were

causally generated by antecedent condit ions and how they functioned to

produce certain consequences in the social system. Sociology, paradoxi cally, was to be restricted to a mechanistical ly causal explanation of the most

external, reified, and d epersonalized aspects of the ideal things constitutive

of soc ia l facts. The criteria of social facts were asserted to be exteriority and

constraint. And Durkheim held to a rather dissociated, if not schizoid, idea

of the relation of the inner to the ou ter, of"subj ective" experience and "objec

tively" observable b ehavior. This was the source of his freq uently confusing

pronouncements on the relat i onsh ip of soc io logy to psychology. Inn er,

subjective experience was ascribed to the individual and often assumed to

be objectively unknowable . Instead, Durkheim i n his early thought stressed

the importance of "hard" data, "morphological" ind ices , legal codes, and

statistical procedures. His idea of the relation between society and moral ity

emphasized fo rmal ob ligation and duty.


Durkheim's early posi tivism at times culminated in an arid fo rmalism.

Homo duplex was divided further into an "outer" social self defl ned by insti

tutional norms and an " inner," hidden, neo-romantic or quasi-transcendental

individual self of ineffable subjectivi ty. Sociology amounted to an objectivist

study of the outer self and the structures that defined its external and constrained relations with other selves and the material environment. Durkheim's

early positivism may have stemmed in part from a mystified generalization

of the nature of experience in a society characterized by certain displaced

religious and i deological traditions and by extremely formal and markedly

bureaucratic relations. In his own France, the state, the mil i tary, the church,

and notably his own specific mil ieu - the state university system - were highly bureaucratized. And the typical personality of members of h i s hyper

spiritualistic republican peer group displayed the dissociated combination of

a formal, constrained exterior and a repressed well of inner spontaneity and

private feeling. A historical watershed in the development ofD urkheim's thought was the

Dreyfus Aff.1.ir. It represented the breakthrough of community and idealistic spontaneity in a structurally h i debound French society. And Durkhei m's sub

sequent thought tended to conceive of the individual in terms of the bodily

organism and to stress the "inside" of shared values in the collectivity. Para

mount was a concern for communal bonds, "collective representations," and

the subj ective desirability of in ternalized values, especially in their relation to

symbolic cult and the sacred. But Durkheim often treated community, ideas,

and ideals in abstraction from operative institutions and practical realities. Indeed, he at times envisioned ideals as the abstract objects of a vague, con

templative mystique and as phantom-like monuments situated on the horizon

of a hoped-for evolutionary development. And methodologically he insisted

upon an objectivist study of ideologies and ideals that provided little insight

into the relationship of the questioner to the questioned in social research or

the relationship of theory to practice in social action. In h i s second and more d ia l ec t i cal tendency, Durkheim partially over

came a Cartesianized neo-Kantianism. H e attempted to relate the elements

and entities that he analytically distinguished. It i s in the l ight of the more

dialectical strand of his thought that i t i s fruitful to understand his con

ception of the relat ion of philosophy to methodology and of theory to

practice . The notion that provided orientation in this respect was D urkheim's

I 0 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

guiding metaphor of a tree of socia l life. This metaphor served as a logical

axis for the classifl cat ion of forms of human experience and entire socia l

systems. The trunk of the tree corresponded to the transhistorical condit ions

of social and cultural l ife, while the branches represented different types of

soci ety. In the l ight of this model (or some more sophisticated analogue)

Durkheim's ideas were developed by his disciples , notably M arcel Mauss

and Claude Levi-Strauss . It was no accident that Mauss was reading Hegel

when he wrote his pivotal essay Le Don ( The Gift). Considered dialecti cally, social structure constituted one crucial dimen

sion of human experience. But the broader problem was the comprehensive

study of forms and levels of symbolically informed experience and their relat ions to anomie . In h is core concept of anomie , Durkheim referred to

the social and cultural - per haps what one might cal l the existential - po

s i t ion of people possessed o f (and frequently by) symbol ism but devoid of

substantively l imi t ing norms and meaningful paradigms that give a viably

coherent order to experience. Anomie disorientation, confusion, and anxiety

were bas ic causes of breakdown and of new creati on in society. The one quest ion Durkheim never asked was whether the extreme ten

dency to decompose reality analytically was itself symptomatic of the extreme

dissociation of sens ibi l i ty which he correlated with social pathology. Yet the

concepts of normal i ty and p athology represented the second elementary

axis of Durkheim's thought which intersected the classifl catory axis of the

tree of sociocultural l ife . Indeed these concepts are crucial in the attempt

to s ituate Durkheim's thought in relat ion to a school which has frequently taken him as a founding father : structurofunctional ism (which has at least

some resemblance to more recent forms of systems theory, for example,

in the work of Niklas Luhman) . This school h as of course many internal

variants, which at t imes display signifl cantly d ifferent orientat ions. And the

entire perspective has been attacked by proponents of a sociology of conflict

as a theoretical excuse fo r a conservative ideology.9 On t h e questions bo t h of a structural ist methodology and the concepts

of normality and pathology, Durkheim did not display the degree of sophis

tication one might have expected of him. His ideas were rarely "clear and

distinct." They were often more nebulous than is expectable in an init ia l ,

tentative, and exploratory statement . Allowing for this vagueness, one may

nonetheless attempt to art iculate certain bas ic e lements of h i s thought.

Chapter I Jntroduction II

There was indeed an important i f insuffl ciently defl ned sense in which

Durkheim's conception of the relationships among aspects of society was

structural and functional in nature. He attempted to see things whole and in

their actual and possible interactions with one another. More speciflcally, he

ident ified science with the attempt to show how an object of investigation could be made to reveal systematic relationships, including the method in

social madness. Very often, these relationships were h idden and could b e

made manifest only through scientifl c investigation . Thus his conception

of rational ism, as well as his bel ief in the existence of important analogies

between natural and social science, rested upon a not ion o f !aws that com

prised structural models, functional correlations, and tendential regulari ties . I n his own words, th ings social are "rational : by which one must s imply

understand that they are l inked to one another by de£ nite relations called

laws . " 1 0 On this basis , the most pertinent methodological s imilarity b etween

natural and social science was the status of the comparative method and

concomitant var iat ion as the analogues in sociology of experimentation in

the natural sciences. Related to the role of the comparative method was

t h e use of statistical procedures in specifying the preva lence o f condit ions

of social l i fe and the direct or indirect consequences of the functioning of

social structures and symbol i c systems.

The implication of the existence of defl nite relations among social and

cultural phenomena for rational prescription was the requirement that pur

poseful intention work with a deflnite, complex, and of ten l i tt le known reality.

Ignorance of typical relationships might frustrate human purpose through the generation of unintended consequences. The only specifl city of society,

when compared with nature in this regard , was a greater range of what Comte

had termed "modi£ able fatality." Durkheim bel ieved fl rmly that socio logy,

in discovering the laws of social reality, would permit social agents "to direct

with more refl ection than in the past the course of historical evolution; for we

can only change nature, moral or physical, in abiding by its laws." Auguste Comte, Durkheim himself observed, "even remarked with insisten ce that of

all natural phenomena, social phenomena are the most malleable, the most

accessible to changes, b ecause they are the most complex." Thus D urkheim

could conclude that "sociology does not in the least impose upon man a pas

sively conservative attitude; on the contrary, it extends the fl eld of our action

by the very fact that i t extends the fl eld of our science . "1 1


One cannot understand the sense in which Durkheim was a rational ist

or a conservative unless one understands h is distinction between social

normality and pathology. Yet this dist inction, which was essential to al l

of Durkheim's work, has often been ignored, repressed, or rejected by

commentators and disciples al ike. One general problem, of course, was that Durkheim's ideas remained at the level of gross approximation. Here,

where careful and rigorous conceptual analysis should have been a fo remost

concern, Durkheim's ideas were little more than suggestive. And the very

appeal to medicalized concepts, relying on b i ological analogies, threatened

to obscure or naturalize the normative issues that were manifestly crucial

fo r Durkheim. Nor did he ever try to apply the concepts of normality and patho logy to h i s tor ica l soc iet ies in a co mp rehens ive and convinci ng way,

distinguishing, for example, b etween kinds and degrees of normality and

pathology. The chapter devoted to a sustained discussion of the normal

and the pathological in The Rules of Sociological Method, a chapter which

should have been the expression of Durkheim's intellectual powers at their

most impressive, failed even to formulate the principles operative in his own works. Instead of drawi ng toge the r the var ious strands of his co n cept ion of

social structure and moral ity, the chapter relied excessively upon b io logical

analogies, of ten without indicating their relevance for social l ife . Except

for the concluding section on crime, the discussion of the normal and the

pathological in The Rules i s probably the least successful piece of writing

and thinking in all of D urkheim's work. Since the dist inct ion between social normality and pathology was one of the fundamental postulates of

Durkheimism, I shall try to make explicit what remained largely impl ic i t

in his writings. In this respect, I shal l present Durkheim's concept ion of

normality and p athology in as useful and sympathetic a manner as poss ib le ,

a lthough I find i t preferable to avoid b io logical or medical ized metaphors

and to employ clearly normative concepts in addressing, however con

testab ly, e th ical and sociopol it ical issues.

The concepts of social norm ality and patho logy referred to paradigms o r

models of social systems ( o r more del imited social settings) that had bo th

methodological and normative status. As instruments of investigation, they

enabled the formulation of problems within the overarching paradigm of

the tree of sociocultural l ife and made poss ib le the discovery of relations

that might not be apparent to naive introspection or unguided empir ical

Chapter I Jntroduction 13

observation . Their basis was the core problem o f Durkheimian sociology

as a whole : the dialectic of order and disorder, l imits and excess, i n society

and culture. And they informed Durkheim's idea of the relation of theory

to practice. The characterization of a state of society as pathological impl ied

a critique and a call to acti on . Roughly speaking, the normal state was characterized by a highly spe

cifl c, desirable sort of functional integration in soci ety. In the normal state,

conditions of social l ife were fl exibly controlled by limiting institutional

norms. Norms were in turn legitimated by values consensually accepted

as valid objects of commitment and solidarity b u t nonetheless challenged by a dynamic, possibly creative leaven of anomie. G iven the transhistorical condit ions of social n o rmality, t h e precise nature of the normal state

varied with different types of society. To the extent that i t corresponded to

the vital necessities of the various branches of the tree of sociocultural life,

moral relativism was understandab l e and j ustifl ed. An undesirable condition of social pathology characterized states of society

beset with varying sorts of internal contradiction and runaway excess. Like the normal phenomena of wh i ch they were the counterparts, patho logical phe

nomena differed in content according to social type. Symptoms of pathology

on the most general level comprised social conflict in extreme, unregulated

forms, but they also included excessively high or low rates of deviance. Symp

toms were to be distinguished from causes, which resided in the faulted nature

of the social system itself and its bearing on the lives of members of society.

The concept of social pathology enabled Durkheim to combine a structuralist

methodology with the recognition of chaos, irrationality, and conflict in social

life . The most important requirement for analysis and prescription was to be

obj ectively clear about the fundamental causes of pathology in society and

the most rational means of effecting a passage from pathology to normality.

It also required a strong distinction between social and individual pathology,

with excessive rates ( in contrast to individual incidence) of the latter being

ascribed to social causes, not perso nal idi osyncracies or faults . Moreover, there

was nothing in Durkheim to support the belief that he defended penal sanc

tions or systematic repression as the appropriate responses to symptoms of

social pathology. On the contrary, he consistently invoked the principle that

institutional change alone attacked the causes of social pathology. Of course

a crucial, controversial question was what phenomena, even with respect to


rates and relations within the broader society, were seen as normal or patho

logical in fact and in right.

States of both pathology and normality were for Durkheim formally

rational in the sense that phenomena in them could be made to reveal in

tell igible relations. There was method to social madness. I t made sense, for example, that certain pathological states of society would be characterized

by high rates of crime, suic ide , and endemic violence. And means might b e

suited t o ends that were themselves pathogenic. But D urkheim d i d n o t argue

that anything that functioned in society was j ustifi ed - if by functioning i s

meant formal adaptation or efficiency in maintaining a status quo . On the

contrary, only the normal state of society and forces adapted to i t s creation or maintenance were jus t ified o r substant ively rational . In the normal state,

conditions were "everything that they ought to b e . " In the pathological

state, they "ought to be other than they are ." 12 The normal state of society

would h ave as the foundation of its structure a culturally relative variant

of practical reason that would function as the sole possible b as is for the

reconcil iation of legit imate order and progress. Substantive rat ionality as the basic p r i nc ip l e of social structure was, moreover, the o n ly foundation

for commitment and sol idarity in society as a whole . In the normal state of

society, the comcience collective would be the shared psychological ground of

practical reason and sol idarity in the personalities of members of society: i t

would b e obj ectively real and sub jectively internalized a t the same time.

The practical implicat ions of Durkheim's ideas have been the subject of intense controversy. Most often, Durkheim has been seen as a conser

vative. In one important sense, this conception of Durkheim is correct. But

Durkheim's broader rationalist dream was to transcend partisan ideological

struggles and to forge a dialectical reconciliation of conservative, radical, and

l iberal traditions in m odern thought. Scientifi c sociology, in Durkheim's

conception of i t , h ad this ambit ious , perhaps unrealistic, rationalist dream

as its foremost practical goal. One th ing was b l i ndingly clear. Durkheim became i ncreasingly convinced

that modern society was significantly patho logical. In what sense was he a

conservative? He was definitely not a reactionary traditionalist or, for that

matter, a protofascist. He did not advocate the restoration of monarchy,

feudal relations, aristocratic values, an established church, or medieval ver

sions of corporatism. Nor did he share the cultural despair of conservative


revolutionaries who felt an indiscriminate need to destroy all existing realities

in order to clear the ground for a conservative utopia . 1 3 His thought reveals

no parallel to the fascist combination of charismatic leader principle, elitism,

mass mobil ization, mystical nationalism, scapegoating of an out-group, and

totalitarian integration of the in-group under racial (o r other group) privi lege and party dictatorship. Despite their idealized aspect, moreover, his studies of

"primitive" societies do not display the obscurantist sort of neolithic nostalgia

that might make the individual a dupe of authoritarian pol it ical movements

ostensibly holding forth the value of community.

In his own France, the viewpoint of Charles M aurras and the Action

Francraise, inspired by a reaction against the Dreyfusard position and the republican form of government which Durkheim supported, was antithet ical

to h is own outlook. Nor did Durkheim share with the authoritarian Comte,

whom Maurras fol lowed, a h igh estimation of what Comte cal led the "Im

mortal Retrograde School" of M aistre and Bonald. Comte, according to

D urkheim, was h i s master in soc io logy. And the "organic" conception

of society, which asserted the group to be "prior" to the individual , was

shared by a soc io l ogical tradit ion that included Maistre, Bona ld , Com te ,

and Durkheim. But Durkheim departed from Maistre and Bonald , on the

one hand, and from Comte, on the other, in his prescriptions for modern

society. When D urkheim referred to the reign of moral authority in the

normal society, he referred to the impersonal authority of norms compatible

with autonomy and reciproci ty, not authoritarian h ierarchies or the e l i t i s t

s ubordination of certain groups to other groups in modern soci ety. And the rights of the individual were part and parcel of any legit imate modern

social order . His primary sources in this respectwere Kant and the Rousseau

whom Kant admired. Durkheim's rationalism served to obviate the anxiety

ridden longing for order that had prompted Comte to propose a rigidly

authoritarian system amalgamating cultural debris of the ecclesiastical past ,

propheti cally technocratic features, and idiosyncrasies of his own personal biography. For Durkheim, the institutional lessons of t h e past were relevant

to the present only i f they were adapted to the conditions and values of the

present , including democracy and the rights of the individual .

Moreover, Durkhe im did not bel ieve that any status quo might be pre

sumed to embody the tradit ional wisdom of the ages that deserved to b e

transmitted with only minor m odifl cation from generation t o generati on.


This assumption appl ied i n variable ways only to the normal state of society

and had at best only l imited applicat ion even to a transformed m odernity

in which there would continue to be a role for critical quest ioning. In a

pathological state, this assumption converted conservatism from a l iving

force into a tragicomic attitude detached fro m social realities and conducive to stereotyped reactions to situations of crisis .

Durkheim was not a s imple status quo conservative. He was what

may be called a phi losophical conservative. He desired the emergence and

maintenance of a signifi candy stabil ized state of society tha t deserved to

be the b as is of historical continuity and personal commitment . Du rkheim

was not a pure optimist . For him the perfect society was an imposs ib le dream. But he d i d affirm the value of a state of soc iety that was relatively

harmonious and in which anomie was confi ned to marginal proport ions .

In this "normal" state of society, the minds and hearts of people would be

united, a n d freedom would be reconciled with a normatively ingrained

sense o f l imits .

In the context of modern societ ies , Durkhe im's conservat ism was d iscr im i n at ing ly radi cal and often future-or i e n ted . He d i d see e lements

in modern soci ety that genuinely deserved to be continued, better coor

di iuted, and strengthened: constitutionalism, individual rights, social sol

idari ty, represen tative government, and a certain type of division of labor.

Bu t he also realized that in certain areas of m o dern l i fe the bas ic problem

was the absence of legitimate traditions that might plausibly claim rational

commitment and "sacred" respect. In these areas, Durkheim - as analyst, prophet, and lawgiver - longed for the creation of inst itutions that would

bridge the gap between reason and sentiment and open the way to a livable,

stabi l ized social environment in which only the i ncorrigibly criminal and the

extraordinarily creative would not be b asically conservative. Unlike many

conservatives in modern h istory, he d id not reconcile himself to a pos i t ion

of tragic resignation or resentful grumbling in the face of rapidly changing real it ies that contradicted h is values. To achieve stab i l i zati o n , consensus ,

and fl exibly traditionalist ic ends in critical areas of society marked by s ig

nificant, if "transitiona l , " condit ions of social pathology, he believed that

structural reform was imperative. In a sense, Durkheim was a structural

reformer selectively open to radical ideas so that one day peop le might b e

authentically conservative i n good conscience.

Chapter I Jntroduction 1 7

Durkheim i s j ustly remembered as a severe crit ic of ut i l i tarianism and

classical l iberal ism. But from the l ib eral tradition he d id accept the idea that

the highest values of modern soci ety include the rights of the individual

and parl iamentary control . He also defended a specifl c sort of plu ralism

- what might be called a normative plural ism. He did not present the competit ion of self- interested groups as the desirable end state of modern

society. This would amount to a subst itut ion of sociological uti l itarianism

for the individualistic uti l itarianism of the past - a sociological uti l itarian

ism that was often compatible with individual isolation and self-seeking.

Durkheim's concrete goal was the formation of co-operative communal

groups control led by norms under the aegis of the democratic state . This was the bas is of h is defense of secondary groups med ia t ing re lat ions be

tween the individual and the state , notably in the form of a revitalized

corporatism resp ectful of individual l ibert ies . What he radically rejected

in classical l ib eralism was the anti-communal ideology that associated uni

versal human rights and personal dignity with atomist ic individualism and

self-centered egoism, especially in possessively economic forms. He came to see un l i m i ted growth, profit max im izat ion , and u nregulated econom i c

relations as crucial causes o f modern social pathology. I t might b e said that

Durkheim identifl ed the "economic rational ity" of the economists with a

prominent case of social irrationality. For h im , the individual referred to by

the principles of the French Revolut ion was no t the acquisi tive calculator or

possessive individual ist who looked upon l ife as an exercise in pre-empting

things with a sovereign "mine . " Ultim ately, Durkheim came to argue that the valuable core of individualism was a humanistic, responsible autonomy

that complemented the commitment to community and reciprocity rooted

in the conscience collective. The most problematic elements i n Durkheim's practical ideas stemmed

from features of his thought which Karl Mannheim identifl ed as charac

teristic of l iberal humanitarianism . 1 4 These elements severely compromised Durkhe im's structura l reformism and his p h i losophica l conservat i sm . They

may be reduced to four tendencies : ( 1 ) the tendency, especially in his early

thought, to provide an i nsufficiently concrete penetration into the real

confl icts, tensions, and ambiguities of social life; (2) the tendency through

out h i s thought to neglect the problem of means of realizing the ends he

advocated; (3 ) the tendency, especially in his increasingly pronounced social

1 8 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

metaphysic, to indulge i n a vague, contemplative vis ion of ideals stand

ing above social real i t ies ; and ( 4) the tendency to rely on an evolutionary

optimism which envisaged a p rogressive approximation of these ideals in

some unspecifl ed future.

These tendencies might well have been embodied in a revisionist at

titude toward Marx, as they were to some extent in the thought of Eduard

Bernstein. In Durkheim, however, they were conjoined with what might be

called a ritual avoidance of Marx Y For very often the absence of Marx or,

conversely, the hidden presence of Marx as a silent pariah interlocutor haunted

Durkheimism. When he did address himself to Marx's thought, Durkheim

attempted to situate Marxism as an ideology while ignoring Marx's theoretical contri but ion . Th i s attitude toward Marx exacerbated some of the greatest

defects of Durkheim, especially his i nadequate treatment of the role of the

economy, of classes, and of group confl ict in social life. One problem to

which D urkheim never convincingly addressed himself was central: whether

a M arxist-type analysis (especially a critical theory of a market-based com

modity system) was in significant measure still relevant to the understanding of endur ing problems i n soc iety under advanced industria l i sm , and , i f i t was,

how i t could be related to the issues which for Durkheim were paramount.

This was a problem that remained even if the conception of class confl ict and

its revo lu tionary potential in the specifl c form in which Marx presented i t

was becoming increasingly irrelevant. (It is also a problem that has acquired

increased salience since the collapse of existing communist states and the

triumphalist celebration of a seemingly fated conjunction of capitalism and liberal democracy bound up with market forces.)

Like Marx, Durkheim tried to integrate a critique of political economy,

German speculative phi losophy, and the French socialist tradition in a com

prehensive theory of the genesis and functioning of modern society. Again,

l ike Marx, he of ten perceived history - especially modern history - as the

story of social pathology. And, in contrast to theorists with a "value-neutral" concept ion of soc ia l sc ience, Durkhe im saw a link between theory and prac

tice. But his antipathy toward Marx prevented a balanced estimate of Marx's

achievement and of the actual role off actors through which M arx explained

the historical process . Durkheim fel l far short of the profound feeling for

tragedy which dramatically informed Marx's reading of h istory, and which

gave an heroic cast to his idea of a dialectical "overcoming" of the burdens of


the past . Unlike Marx, moreover, Durkheim rarely displayed a telling sense

of the concrete with which to bring to l ife (and temper with life's nuances)

h is analytical mode ls and statistical surveys ; and he rarely was able to grasp

imaginatively the developmental possibi l it ies o f a complex set of interacting

factors in society as a whole over time. One finds no Eighteenth Brumaire among Durkheim's works. Marx had both an incisive sense o f history and

an almost cannibal ist ic sense of irony. D urkheim's more abstract and staid

approach lacked these cutting edges.

Significantly, Durkheim shared Marx's ideological blindness to questions

of gender and assumed a basically traditional role for women in society even

when his own analyses indicated the possibility of a critique of dubiously gendered re lat ions . "Man" in Durkheim, as i n Marx, can often be read li terally

as well as metonymically. The M arx whom Durkheim especially abhorred

was the Marx who advocated class confl ict and violent revolution in modern

society. In contrast with Marx, Durkheim viewed modern society - and

particularly his own France, which was always his center of reference - as

suffering from severe but transitional symptoms of patho logy and offering

the possib i l ity of social justice without recourse to vio lent revo lut ion . Th i s

primary focus upon the conception of modern society as passing through a

pathological state of rapid transition on the way to normality was crucial for

the shape of Durkheim's thought as a whole. For Durkheim, modern society

was experiencing, not death throes, bu t prolonged and disruptive birth pangs.

Marx had mixed his metaphors and mistaken the nature and direction of modern society.

If Marx was both too pessimistic in his idea of the historical evolution of

the industrialized West toward collapse (at least in terms of the precise pro

cesses he emphasized) and too optimistic in his messianic faith in sociocultural

regeneration after apocalyptic upheaval, Durkheim combined extreme pes

simism about the potential of the individual " left to himself" with extreme

optimism concerning the ab i l i ty of modern society to resolve the severe problems presented to it in the course of h is tory. This false opt imism, which

vacillated between the mechanistically sober and the euphorically inflated,

generated in Durkheim an a ir of complacency that was alleviated only by

genuine concern and a devotion to social action. Durkheim often seemed

able to snatch the spirit of normality from the j aws of anomie. Despite his

sensitivity to possible abortive miscarriages in the development of modern


society, he had an almost religious fai th i n the evolut ion of modern society,

on the whole and i n good t ime, toward justice and reason. If Durkheim's

social idealism at t imes included elements of polit ical nai"vete, h e at least

recognized problems in the modern status quo that certain of his epigoni

preferred to overlook. And the least questionable aspect of his faith in a straining toward normality and social sanity in modern life was the assumption

that the reformer with constructive intentions - even when he or she fai led

to be moved by the spirit - might be constrained to accept optimism as

somewhat a social duty.

A final remark should indicate the general conception of Durkheim's

thought which informs this study. The idea of sociology as a l ife science imp l i ed for Durkhe im a fide l i ty to the l iv ing . In h is last major work, which

treated the vanishing religion of Australian aborigines, Durkheim seemed to

be very far from his initial i nspiration. In one sense, the very opposite was

true. In the opening pages of Les Formes t!lt!mentaires de Ia vie religieuse ( The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life), Durkheim asserted:

Soc io logy raises other problems than h istory and ethnography. It does not seek to know the bygone forms of civilization with the sole end of knowing and reconstituting them. Instead, like every posi rive science, it has as its object the explanati on of a present reality, near to us and thus able to affect our actions: This reality is man and, more precisely, the man of today, fo r there is none other whom we are more interested in knowing. T h us, we w i l l not study the very archa ic re l ig ion tha t is our subject fo r the sole pleasure of recounting i ts b izarre and singular features. If we have taken archaic rel igion as our object of research, i t i s because i t appeared to u s more ap t than any other i n allowing us to understand the religious nature of man , which is to reveal to us an essentia l and permanent aspect of human nature . 1 6

The theoretical goal of The Elementary Forms was to arrive at a general

notion of culture and society through an intensive analysis of religious sym

bolism and its relation to solidarity. But the more specific object preoccupying

Durkheim was his idea of the "moral mediocrity" of modern society and his

desire to learn something of bas ic value from the "savages" b efore their forms of l i fe were uprooted by a civi l izat ion whose mode of advance was often symp

tomatic of its moral mediocrity. At times this intention of the moraliste led

Chapter I Jntroduction 2 1

Durkheim to perceive "primitive" societies through a superficial type of benign

reverse ethnocentrism: he focused upon abstracted features in "primi tive" life

which he felt were missing in modern society bu t vital to all normal society.

His analysis of religious bel ief and ritual in "primitive" societies reduced these

phenomena to selected aspects which accorded most with his lifelong moral concern with creating legitimate institutions in modern society and his latter

day sensitivity to the universal need for signifi cant community. The Elementary Forms was the summa of Durkheim's written works. In a larger context, i t was

but the preface to his might-have-been chef-d'oeuvre, "La Morale," which

Marcel Mauss accurately characterized as the "but de son existence, fond de

son esprit" (the goal of his existence, the substance of his mind) . 1 7 A curious abstractness reaching out with e l usive fee l ing for human solidity in values and

moral solidarity in people; a Cartesianized, socialized, and so mew hat mystified

neo-Kantianism of a rabbi manque who had stoically imperturbable good will

- these were often the most apparent qualities of Durkheimism.


Notes

1 . "Cours de science sociale : Le�ton d' ouverture," Rwue internationale de f 'enseignement, XV ( 1 8 8 8 ) , 45 .

2 . Letter t o Georges Davy; quoted in Davy, "Durkheim," Revue ftanr;aise de s ociologie, I ( 1 960 ) , 1 0 .

3 . "Sociologie religieuse et theorie de Ia connaissance," Reuue de mhaphys ique et de morale, XVII ( 1 909) , 755-756 .

4 . Ibid. , p . 7 5 8 . 5 . A superficial review of the major orientations and d iffi culties of some of the

most important interpretations ofDurkheim will give the reader a sense of the problem. In his monumental The Structure of Social Action (first pub. 1 937 ; Glencoe, I l l . : Free Press , 1 949) , Talcott Parsons presented Durkheim's thought as caught in an unresolved tension between early positivism and latter-day idealism as it tortuously worked its way toward convergence with other voluntaristic theories of social action. (Parsons' ideas formed the basis for the treatment of Durkheim in H. Stuart Hughes's infl uential Consciousness and Society [New York: Knopf; 1 958] . ) In his Es sais de sociologie (Paris: S irey, n .d . ) , Georges Gurvitch saw in Durkheimism a denial of social science itself in the attempt to construct a "metamorality." According to Gurvitch, Durkheim transfi gured society into a modern contender for the traditional role oflogos. In his idea of the relation of sociology to philosophy, Durkheim was like Columbus, who discovered America while sail ing for the Indies . G urvitch denied the validity of the integral bond between methodology and philosophy in Durkheim's idea of social science. With typical virtuosity, Claude LeviStrauss has termed himself an "inconstant disciple" of Durkheim and has treated his thought over the years with a combination of wholesale praise and retail criticism. Still , his thought, like that ofPierre Bourdieu, would not be conceivable without the role of Durkheim and the Annie school. Yet Raymond Aron, whose interpretive skil l is often beyond comparison, gave what seemed to be a counsel of despair. In his Eta pes de Ia pensee s ocio!ogique (Paris : Callimard, 1 967) , he observed, after a s eriatim commentary on the texts, that he had found himself forced to resort frequently to direct quotation, not to i l lustrate substantive points of an argument but , o n the contrary, because he fel t "a certain difficulty in entering into Durkheim's way of thought, no doubt because of a lack of sympathy necessary for understanding" (p. 360) . In his important Emile Durkheim: His LUe and Work (London: Penguin, 1 973) , which appeared at about the same time as the original edition of the

Chapter I Introduction 23

present book, Steven Lukes employed a combination of analytic philosophy in the parsing of Durkheim's concepts, neopositivistic empiricism in the chronological recounting of diverse biographical and contextual facts, and synoptic content analysis in the reading of texts . The result i s an encyclopedic compendium fi lled with useful information but not itself informed or motivated by a sustained, thought-provoking argument. See also the essays in Emile Durkheim: Critical As se s sments , ed. Peter Hamilton (London: Routledge, 1 990) and Debating Durkheim, ed. \V'. S. F. Pickering and H. Martin (London: Routledge, 1 994) .

6 . Les Regles de Ia methode sociologique ( 1 5th ed. ; Paris: Presses U niversitaires de France, 1 963 ) , p. ix.

7 . "La Sociologie e n France a u XIXe siecle," Reuue bleue, 4th series, XI I I ( 1 900) , 65 1 .

8 . 0 n this problem, see Herbert Marcuse, Eros and CiZJilization (Boston: Beacon Press, 1 9 5 5 ) , chap. ix.

9 . Robert K . Merton's discussion probably remains the most concise and useful examination of functional analysis i n socio logy. Merton stresses the importance of the concept of "dysfunction" for the study of social conflict (Social Theory and Social Structure [rev. ed. ; Glencoe, I l l . : Free Press of Glencoe, 1 9 64] , chap. i ; repr. as chap. iii of On Theoretical Sociology [New York: Free Press, 1 967] ) . It would be interesting to relate Durkheim's conception of anomie to recent approaches to trauma. On the latter issue, see my Writing History, Writing Trauma (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 200 1 ) and His tory and Reading: TocqueZJille, Foucault, French Studies (Toronto: University ofToronto Press, 2000 ) . l ndeed trauma i s an often socially based, psychological dimension of extreme disorien tation on which Durkheim touched but which he did not extensively explore.

1 0 . "La Sociologie en France au XI Xe siecle," p. 649. 1 1 . "Sociologie et sciences sociales," in De Ia methode dans le s sciences (Paris:

Alcan, 1 909 ) , p. 266 . 12 . L e s Regles de Ia methode sociologique, p. 47 . 1 3 . See Fritz Stern, T h e Politics of Cultural Despair (first pub . 1 96 1 ; Garden

Ci ty, N . Y. : Doubleday, 1 965 ) . 1 4 . Ideology and Utopia (New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1 93 6 ) , pp . 2 1 9-229. 1 5 . Durkheim's attitude was in marked contrast to Max Weber's open reckoning

with Marx. It is significant that Durkheim and Weber indicated no knowledge of each other's work. See Edward Tiryakian, "A Problem for the Sociology of Knowledge: The Mutual Unawareness of Emile Durkheim and Max Weber," A rchiZJes europeennes de sociologie, VII ( 1 966) , 330-336 . Tiryakian correctly notes the reason why Durkheim and Weber should have been interested in


each other's work, e. g. , their conviction concerning the importance o f religion i n social lif e. But, in accounting for their "mutual unawareness," he stresses the role of exogenous factors such as opposing national allegiances. He does not investigate the relation of serious intellectual differences to "mutual unawareness" or, perhaps, mutual avoidance. One basic difference was on the issue of the ethical neutrality of social science. One might hazard the generalization that, on sub jects extending from epistemology to polit ics , the differences between Durkheim and Weber were between a thinker who was traditional, philosophically conservative, optimistically reformist, and sometimes naive and one who was modern, heroic, irreducibly tragic, and at times fatalistic . (Tiryakian, in his Sociologism and E·dstentialism [Englewood Cliffs , N .J . : Prentice-Hall, 1 962] , gives a thoughtful, i f brief, analysis o f Durkheim's thought, stressing the importance of his conception of the relation between society and morality.) Alvin Gouldner, i n his generally ins ightful introduction to Socialism (New York: Collier Books, 1 962) , makes two exaggerated assertions that are opposed, if not contradictory, to one another. Gouldner sees Durkheim as attempting to build a bridge between the traditions of Comte and Marx in sociology. But he also presents Durkheim as concerned with the "fi ne-tuning" of modern society. I would maintain that at least some bases for integrating Durkheim and Marx do exist but that Durkheim himself did relatively little to b ui ld upon them. This was true, for example, of the problem of relating anomie to class or, more generally, group conflict. But to characterize Durkheim's idea of needed reforms as "fi ne-tuning" is extreme. Durkheim increasingly believed that the problems besetting modern society were severe. One might well argue that his proposed reforms were excessively vague or inadequate for solving the problems he perceived. But they were basic , at least in certain respects. It i s true, however, that Durkheim believed modern society would naturally evolve in the direction of"normality," certainly without violent revolution.

1 6. Les Formes elementaires de Ia vie religieuse (first pub. 1 9 1 2 ; 4th ed. ; Paris : Presses Universitaires de France, 1 980 ) , pp. 1 -2 .

1 7 . " In Memoriam: L'Oeuvre inedite de Durkheim et de ses collaborateurs , " Amzee sociologique, n . s . , I ( 1 923) , 9 .

2

Durkheim's Milieu

Once one has established the existence of an evil, what it consists of and on what it depends, when one knows in consequence the general characteristics of the remedy, the essential thing is not to draw up in advance a plan which foresees

everything; it is to get resolutely to work. - Suicide

To historicize D urkheim' s ideas by restricting their range to his own im

mediate experience and social context would obviously be to lose sight of their

broader relevance. But it is inform ative for reasons of h istorical perspective

to situate Durkheim in his own socia l mi l i eu . And the effort is prompted by

Durkheim's tendency to take his own society as a test case of the needs of

modern society in general. The broadly ethical and philosophical impetus

behind Durkheim's thought must be in the forefront of any approach to his

ideas . For him the problem of a just social order in modern society presented

itself very much in the light of rational specification of the principles of the French Revo lut ion in terms which would enable people to humanize and

absorb the industr ial revo lut ion . The moral mission of sociology itself was

to provide, through an analytic and comparative study of institutions and

values, orientation in reaching this goal. By and large, Durkheim's l ife was

a subdued and intellectualized passion devoted to this task - scientific and

moral at the same time.

Durkh e im was born i n 1 8 5 8 in the town of Ep ina l , in the province of

Lorraine, and died in 1 9 1 7 . Ceded to the Germans in 1 87 1 , the Alsace-Lor

raine region housed both the most trad it ionalist enclave of French Jewry and

one of the most ardent centers of F rench patriotism. It was returned to F ranee

only at the end of the First World War.


Durkheim grew up at a time when the Jewish ghettos of eastern France

were rapidly breaking up. 1 The disintegration of these communities posed the

threat of social unsettlement and personal disorientation which Durkheim

later was to analyze in terms of anomie. To this problem was added the loss

of patrie for those suffering the consequences of the Franco-Prussian War.

The early death of his father imposed upon the young Durkheim the

responsibilities of a chef de fomille. According to familial tradition, D urkheim

was destined to follow in his father's footsteps by becoming a rabbi . Of

course, he was not to follow l i terally the wishes of h i s family. He was never

to make an express commitment to any established religious inst i tution. But

those who found an agnostic temperament in Durkheim identified religious sent iment with orthodox be l i ef in a personal deity or with otherworld ly

transcendentalism - questionable i dentifications that Durkheim took pains

to dispel in his own defi nit ion of the religious phenomenon. The relat ion

between rel igion and society that Durkheim tried to establish theoretically

had an analogue in the personality of this founder of modern sociology. The

one theme that recurs in the reminiscences of his friends is the profound re l ig ios i ty and the sense of myst ique runn ing like an undercurrent in h i s

dialectical rigor and rationalism. As his close friend Georges Davy recalled:

"This convinced rationalist always kept, on the fringe of the orthodoxy of

his mi l i eu , a sort of fundamental rel igiosity which took on the al lure of

mysticism when, with the impassioned ardor of a prophet, he expounded

his doctrine . " 2 And here is the testimony of the fo under of the Revue de nu!taphysique et de morale, Durkheim's good fr iend Xavier Leon: "This face

and this body of an ascetic, the glowing l ight of a look profo undly buried

in the orbit of his eye, the t imbre and the accent of a voice animated by an

ardent faith that in this he ir of the prophets burned with the desire to forge

and temper the conviction of listeners . " l

One sequence of events in Durkheim's l i fe stood out with special prom

inence. Durkheim was not known for his sense of humor or taste fo r irony. In part , t h e lack was due to th e inte l l ectual pur i ty, classical restra i nt , and

moral incentive of his thought. But Durkheim's outlook was also indicative

of a straitlaced tendency to identify seriousness of purpose with solemnity.

Davy has remarked that Durkheim's austere conception of l ife "perhaps even

went to the po int of preventing h im from enjoying without scruples any

pleasure except the Spinoza-l ike j oy which is brought by enthusiasm for an

Chapter 2 Durkheim 's Milieu 27

idea . "4 The sole recorded instance of humor and irony i n Durkheim's l ife

was self-directed, and i t i nvolved religi on. In a rare pun, Durkheim played

upon the ambiguity of the French word chaire ("academic's chair," "church

pulp i t" ) . Passing in front of Notre Dame Cathedral, Durkheim turned to a

colleague, Celestin Bougie, and remarked, "It 's from a chair like that, that I ought to be speaking . " 5

Durkheim's life seems dominated by a strong sense of discipline that kept

the man together while the academic moved steadily from rung to rung up

the professional ladder and ultimately to a professorship at the Sorbonne .

As a young man, however, Durkheim experienced a number of crises that

revealed how he combined a s trong mind with a fragile and anxious spir i t . Under the influence of a Catho l i c i n s tructress, fo r exam ple , he underwent

a passing i nfatuation with mystici sm. 6 In Paris, h e prepared for the Ecole

Normale Superieure at the Lycee Louis-le-Grand and lived at the Pension

J auffret, where he formed his lifelong friendship with Jean Jaures . But his l ife

at the pension was full of anguish and left him with bad memories . 7 He was

admitted to the Ecole Normale after having failed two years in succession to place high enough in the entrance exam i nat ion .

Durkhe im en tered the Ecole Normale in 1 879 . "Lanson, S . Reinach and

Levy- Bruhl had j ust been graduated. Bergson, Jaures and Belot had entered

the year b efore . Rauh and Maurice Blonde! were to be admitted two years

later. Pierre Janet and Go b lo t entered along with Durkheim. It i s not an

exaggeration, the ref ore, to say that a veritable philosophical renaissance was

germinating at the Eco le Normale . " 8 But once he was finally in the Ecole , Durkhe im's att itude was h ighly ambivalent. In h i s last year a grave i l lness

which may have been psychosomatic in origin compromised his chances for

the agregation, in which he was nonetheless received next to last . '1

In retrospect, Durkheim felt that the Ecole Normale was a "scientific

and social mi l i eu of exceptional value , " and he sent his son there. 10 He

retained a lasting respect for two of his professors: the historian Fustel de

Coula nges and the ph i losopher Em i l e Boutroux. To Fuste l , who preceded

Durkheim in the advocacy of the comparative method and the concept ion

of the importance of religion i n socia l life, Durkheim dedicated his Latin

thesis on their common intellectual ancestor, Montesquieu. To Boutroux,

who impressed Durkheim most by his "penetrating and obj ective way of

reconstitut ing and rethinking systems, renewing and fo unding scientifically


before his students the history of phi losophy, " 1 1 D urkheim dedicated h i s

thesis on "The Divis ion of Labor."

At a deeper psychological level , however, Durkheim did not fl nd the

Ecole Normale altogether to his l iking. The impressionis t ic humanism and

dilettantism which he had found repulsive in cagne (the high school class preparing students fo r the Ecole Normale examination) were dominant

traits of the Ecole itself. More important , he inst inctively drew back from

the superci l ious snobbery and defensive air of noblesse o blige in an overly

self-conscious intellectual e l i te .

His intell igence, sober and avid for substant ia l truth , held in horror the literary pers ifl age and ironic tone so often to be fo und in the conversat ion of the students at the Ecole Normale [ normaliens] . . . . "I h ave seen h im (M . Ho l l eaux recounts) wish ardently for the end of the school year, for vacation time, the moment when he would be able to l ive again among 'good s imple people ' (this was his expression) . Absolutely simple, he detested all affectat ions. Profoundly serious , h e hated banter [/e ton Ieger] .

If many of D urkheim's character traits recall the austere Kant, others bring

to mind Rousseau. One of the happiest t imes of his school years was when

he went into the streets to mingle with the effervescent populace during the July 1 4 festivi t iesY The sense of communal warmth was a force which

was increasingly to break through the Cartesianized neo-Kantian su rface

of h i s thought, through its cold veneer o f devotion to duty. At the Ecole

Normale, moreover, Durkheim formed several last ing and genuine friend

ships . His fri end Maurice Holleaux remarked that "few people real ly knew

him. Few realized that his severity covered almost feminine sensitivity and

that his heart, a stranger to fac i le effusions of sentiment, enclosed a treasury of tender goodness ." 1 3

Lines later written b y Durkheim himself about his good friend Octave

Hamel in could be appl ied to the attitudes of D urkheim's friends toward

their relationship with Durkheim himself. Hamel in had died prematurely

in an absurd attempt to save the lives of unknown drowning people in spite

of the fac t that he was unable to swim. Durkheim edited and made ready fo r pub l i cat ion the book on Descartes wh i ch Hamel in never completed. In

words that evoke the sanctity of intimacy in friendship, Durkheim wrote of


Hamelin: "As a man, we think that he belongs entirely to his friends, who

p i ously keep the cult of h is memory. We would almost be l ieve that we had

defiled his memory if we were to allow the publ ic to penetrate the intimacy

of an existence which always Aed acclaim and which even hid itself from

the looks of others with a sort of jealous care . " '4 After leaving the Eco le Normale , Durkheim was granted a per iod of

relative respite to gather h imself and h i s thoughts together. In accordance

with the traditional French practice that has to a signifi cant extent passed

out of existence, he began teaching at the secondary level b efore moving

on to the u niversi ty. If the primary and secondary levels in France repre

sented not stages in the educational process as much as different systems of educat ion h igh ly strat ified according to soc ia l c lass , t h e secondary and

the upper levels were strongly i ntegrated wi th each other. Indeed , certain

intel lectual leaders of the t ime , such as Alain, preferred to remain at the

fycee level from a convict ion that it was the locus of more authentic teach

ing. From 1 8 82 to 1 8 8 7 , Durkheim taught at the fycees of Sens, Sa int

Quentin, and Troyes . In 1 8 8 5 - 1 8 8 6 , he took a year off from teaching in provinc ia l fycees to s tudy in G ermany. ' 5 Th i s trip was u n dertaken after a

conversation with Louis Liard, the Director of Higher Education (Directeur

de l 'Enseignement Super ieur ) , a l i felong supporter of Durkheim. But i t

wou ld b e a mistake to think that Liard showed any spec ia l o r conspirato

r ial favori t i sm toward Durkheim. Rather, he saw in Durkheim a thinker

whose convict ions and ideas coincided with his own deep commitment

to the renovation of the French educat ional system under the auspices of

the Republ ic . Liard had been struck in his own youth by the decadence

of e du cation under the Second Empire, and he shared the bel ief of many

republican leaders that educational inferiority had been a key factor in

France's defeat at the hands of the Germans . Thus Liard 's furtherance of

Durkheimian soc io logy, whi le not a un ique event in h i s act ively i nnova

tive life as an administrator, was related to his idea of the inst i tut ional and mora l needs of the Republ ic .

In Germany, Durkheim studied social science and its relation to ethics ,

primari ly under the guidance of Wilhelm Wundt. He was considerably

impressed by the efforts of Albert Schaeffl.e and the "socialists of the chair"

to devise reforms of the economy in accordance with the demands of social

ethics . Yet he almost cut his visit short in order to return precipitately to


France because of an overly scrupulous fear that he would not b e able to

derive from his stay i n Germany all that h e expected . 1 6 Despite h is anxiety,

publ icat ion of two articles based on his period of study in Germany brought

Durkheim to the attention of the broader publ i cY The year 1 8 87 marked

the inst i tut ion in France of the first university course in social science. It was to be taught by Durkheim at the University of Bordeaux. The proposal

for this course was in all probabi l i ty initiated by Alfred Espinas, the author

of Les Societes animales and himself a professor at Bordeaux, and it had the

support of Louis Liard. 18 The ministerial decree, dated July 20, 1 8 87 , bore

the signature of Eugene Spuller, who ten years earl ier had brought before

the Chamber of Deputies the projet de lo i of Jules Ferry on the reform of h igher educat i o n .

Just before the appointment a t B ordeaux, Durkheim h ad married. Ac

cording to his fri end Davy, "His choice could not have been happier both

for himself and for the atmosphere of his work . " 1 9 The nature ofDurkheim's

marriage is a biographical top ic deserving of further research, for we know

l i t t le about i t . I suspect that Davy's statement endearingly covers a rather trad i t iona l relati onsh ip in which the wife p l ayed a role one might perhaps

infer from Durkheim's treatment of (or s ignificant s i lences concerning)

women in his published texts: a subordinate role, at times a tell ing absence,

in virtue of which women were confined to gendered activit ies assumed to

be in better keeping with their nature and aptitudes . In any case, his wife

apparently had primary conjugal responsibility in caring for the children and

the household whi l e Durkheim was active as a scholar and a profess ional .

His wife's maiden name, portentously, was Dreyfus, but she does not seem

to have been related to the famous Dreyfus whose defense Durkheim would

later take up . With her D urkheim had two children, a boy and a girl .

In a letter to M arcel Mauss (who once described Durkheim as "the pro

fessional conscience personified" ) , 2 0 Durkheim wrote that he had "passed

his first year of teaching at the Faculty in a trance of unsuccess ."2 1 But, once agai n , Durkhe im was b e i ng excessively uneasy. At about the age of t h i rty,

he started to acquire the security and stabi l i ty that were probably necessary

for him to control his feel ings of anxiety and begin a per iod of enormous

productivity and creativity.

The first ful l professorship and university chair i n social science were

created for Durkheim at Bordeaux in 1 896 . In 1 902 , he received a call to

Chapter 2 Durkheim s Milieu 3 I

Paris as a replacement for his fel low educator and friend Ferdinand Buis

son, who had been elected to the Chamber of Deputies . He was given

Buisson's chair in the Science of Education in 1 906 . As Durkheim's disciple

Maurice Halbwachs later phrased it , sociology was not admitted directly

to the Sorbonne "but was introduced into it through the narrow gate of pedagogy. " 2 1 Indeed, throughout his career Durkheim devoted from one

third to two-thirds of his teaching time to pedagogy. He did not look upon

this as a waste of t ime , for he approached education sociologically, as an

institution having the crucial function o f social izing the child into the larger

soci ety. By special decree in 1 9 1 3 , the title of his chair at the Sorbo nne was

changed to the Science of Education and Socio logy. Comte's neologism, barbar ica l ly combin ing Greek logos and Lat in societas, finally gained official

recognition in the University of France through the instrumentality of a

thinker who questioned the preponderant role of the classics in traditional

French education. Durkheim was awarded the Legion d'homzeur but was

denied access to the Institut de France. Davy remarks that he received news

of both events with the same detachment.23 He had achieved the essential ;

t h e superfluous was unnecessary.

In Durkhei m's works, sociology underwent its "identity cr is is ." Hence

his tendency to assert militantly and even overstate his point of view. In

his own France, his attempt to fo und a discipl ine was so successful that his

sociology emerged in time as somewhat a "col lective representation . " As

an historian sensitive to the importance of soc ia l theory observed almost a

decade after Durkheim's death:

Such indeed has been the infl uence of Durkheim in our University that he seems to have monopolized soc io logy. The latter in our mind is so closely b o und up with the work of Durkheim that we have a lmost become unable to realize that it can have an existence beyond his works and those of his d isc ip les . In our discussions, in o u r manuals , Durkheimian socio logy and sociology tout court seem to be more and more synonymous.24

Durkheim's intel lectual l ife coincided with the fo unding and estab

lishment of the Third Republ ic , whose init ia l and more opt imist ic phase

came to a tragic end, l ike Durkhei m's l ife itself, with the traumatic shock

of World War I . The events which heralded the coming of the Republ ic


- the debacle of the Franco-Prussian War, fol lowed by the agony of the

Paris Commune - were interpreted by many republican leaders as evidence

of the internal instabil ity of the Second Empire rather than as inauspic ious

indices of continuing foreign and domest ic problems.25 Despite the almost

mystical opt imism engendered by the mere durabi l i ty of the first long-lived democratic republ ic in French history, Durkheim himself placed at least

the recurrent domestic upheavals in France in the larger context of the

industrial revolution and the turbulent wake of the French Revolut ion . As

he observed of Saint-S imon's long-range, structural theory of European

and especially French h i s tory, which presented the Revolut ion of 1 78 9 as

a phenomenon which had destroyed certain vestiges of the o l d order bu t which h ad miscarr ied i n t h e creat ion of the new:

[After the Revolution] royal authority was re-estab l i shed . But these revivals of the past did not constitute a so lut ion . So the problem is posed on the morrow of the Revolution, at the start of the nineteenth centuty, in the same terms as on the eve of 1 7 89 , only it has become more pressing. The denouement i s more urgent i f one does not wish to see each crisis produce another, exasperation the chronic state of society, and finally, disintegration more or less the result . Either complete ly restore the old system or organize the new. It is precisely this that i s the social problem.

As we view it , i t cannot be posed with greater profundity?6

In the excel lent j u dgment of David Thomson, "The Third Repub

l ic . . . was at heart an attempt to reconci le the confl ict ing fo rces of modern

France."27 The republican ideal of a j ust modern consensus heal ing the

wounds of history found no more ardent proponent than Durkheim.28 In

his i naugural lecture at Bordeaux , Durkhe im stated his i n tensely moral goal

in no ambiguous terms:

Our society must restore the consciousness of its organic unity . . . . No doubt these ideas wi l l become truly efficacious only if they spread out into the depths of society, b u t for that it is fi rst necessary that we elaborate them scientifically in the u ni versi ty. To contribute to this end to the extent of my powers wil l be my principal concern, and I shall have no greater happiness than if I succeed in it a l ittle .29


The realit ies of the Third Republ ic were o f course less elevated, and

i ts operat ional consensus proved to be purely negative. Astute, if cynical,

observer-participants like Adolphe Thiers were able to see this fro m the very

beginning. The monarchist Right, which in the 1 870s had proved unable

to settle upon a compromise formula reconcil ing the houses of Bourbon

and Orleans, accepted the Republ ic faute de mieux. After the Dreyfus Af

fair, resistance from the Right b e came increasingly mil itant . The far Left

was equally unable to propose a constructive alternative to existing pol ic ies .

Between these two extremes, most of those who agreed upon a democrat ic

and republ ican form of government did so with the tacit assumpt ion that

pol it ics would not disturb the basic configuration of vested in terests in society. Symbo l i cally, the French legis lature he ld its meet ings i n a "house

without windows." French labor legislation remained the most backward

of the "advanced" industrial societies . And French society continued to

be highly gendered and stratifi ed, with little equality of opportunity, less

equality of reward, and no positive consensus on the legitimate n ature of the

social structure or pol i t ical regime. The boundaries of invidious distinction between socia l ly distant and uncooperative c l asses cont inued to be defined

with rhe Cartesian rigor so accurately described by Tocquevil le in h i s Ancien

regime. The youthfu l promise of the Republ ic turned increasingly into the

senile reality of a detached, deadlocked democracy superimposed upon a

stalemated society.30 In this context, there was l itt le chance of developing

social and po lit ical inst i tut ions which could viably control the disruptive

effe cts of the industrial revolut ion : memories of the great Revolut ion created expectations which heightened unrest .

The precise nature of the economy and of its impact upon society in

Durkheim's France is a complex subject that engages experts in debate . In

the famous dictum of]ohn Clapham, France underwent industrial ization

without having a full-fl edged i ndustrial revo lut ion . 3 1 The rate of economic

change in France unt i l the 1 950s was not comparable to that of Ge rmany or England, but the degree of disparity has o ften been exaggerated.

Durkheim tended to see the problem of industrial ization within the

broad context of modern society as a whole. But , during his own lifetime,

the rate of change in F ranee itself, especially in the concentration of indus tty,

was probably more rapid than it had ever been , and its effects were qu i te

percept ible to the sensitive observer. In fact, the unbalanced nature of the


economic transformation i n France exacerbated problems common to al l

industrial societies. The one area of modern l i fe in which the family retained

extensive social control in France depended on the role of the bourgeois

family firm in the economy.32 In the large sector of the economy dominated

by relatively small family firms, production was restricted and prices were kept high to defend the social posit ion and honor of the family unit . Thus

workers were deprived even of the gains they might have expected from

increases in productivity and th e imperatives of mass consumption i n a

privately owned and operated economy.33

In a famous critique of the Annee sociologique school, A. L . Kroeber stressed

the repugnance of the Durkheimians for field work.34 E. E. Evans-Pritchard took up this pla int and extended its scope: "One somet imes sighs - if

only Tylor, Marett , Durkheim and the rest of them could have spent a few

weeks among the people about whom they so freely wrote!"35 Whatever the

justice of this sentiment with respect to Australian aborigines or American

Indians, i t overlooked the fact that a sociologist like Durkheim did have a

direct "field" experience of one massive phenomenon in world history: the transformat ion of modern societies through industria l izati on . 3 6The attempt

to make sociological sense of the complex events he beheld firsthand was basic

to Durkheim's De La Division du travail social and Le Suicide, and it remained

a fundamental issue in his Les formes elementaires de la vie religieuse. Within the context of his own society, D urkheim's intent was to eliminate

the basic causes of social "pathology" and propose ways to achieve a posit ive

consensus through the viable realization of values adequate to the conditions

of modern social life. Although his own sphere of immediate concern was

largely confined to the educational system, Du rkheim did not be l ieve that

reforms restricted to the init iatives of an educational and scientific estate were

sufficient . He undoubtedly shared Gambetta's b elief that a democratic repub

l ic could not endure "without distributing education with both hands."37 But

Durkheim recognized clearly that uncoordinated partial responses to major

social problems would in a l l probabi l i ty aggravate patho logical condit ions

instead of alleviating them. Changes in education and in the socia l attitudes

of educators could be effective only in conjunction with changes of a basic

structural nature in the primary source of social problems in modernity- the

economic and occupational spheres. Durkheims corporatist proposals were

addressed to this problem.


A measure of pos i tive consensus stemming from similar socia l origins

and phi losophical convictions did characterize the educational leaders who

formed D urkheim's immediate reference group. One fact emerges when

one examines the b ackgrounds of key figures in the educational system

who, like Durkheim, were genuinely committed to working toward the creat ion of a social and polit ical order based upon republ ican ideals . I n

disproport ionately signifi cant numbers , they were self -made men from

marginal soc i a l groups i n tradit ionally Catho l ic and status-conscious

France . These men were afforded the opportunity to r ise to pos it ions of

prominence in the nation through the involvement of more tradit ional

el ites in the viciss itudes of the Second Empire , the fut i l e maneuverings of pro -mon archists in the 1 870s , and , most important, the allegiance of

traditional el ites to anti-republ ican ideologies . With the achievement of

established posit ions , these newer men assumed an attitude of" reasonable"

reformism that, especially after the Dreyfus Affair, was increasingly open

to the infl uence of mystique .

Durkheim and certain of h i s col laborators on the Annee sociologique were of Jewish ancest ry. We have already no ted Durkheim's rabbinica l her itage , which was shared by his nephew Marcel Mauss . We know,

moreover, the pr imary scientifi c importance Durkheim attributed to the

Annee sociologique: " Because it embraces the entire domain of science,"

Durkheim wrote , "the Annee has been able , better than any special work,

to impart the sentiment of what sociology must and can become." 3 8 Bu t

aside from its scientific importance and its ro l e in the Republ ic , t h e A n nie

school fo rmed "almost a spir itual family united by the bond o f a common

method and a common admirat ion for its maitre. " 3 9 This " l i t t le society

sui generis, the clan of the Annee sociologique,"40 seemed to represent in

the minds and hearts of i ts members a prototype of what the professional

group could be in modern society - a supplementary kinship, a truly sol i

dary corps combining community and a mutual respect fo r individual i ty.

As Marcel Mauss recalled: "The An nee was not s im ply a pub l icat ion and

the work of a team. Around i t we formed a 'group' i n a l l the force of the

term . " 4 1 In sharp contrast with the psychoanalytic movement, the A nnee

school was not marked by extreme s ib l ing rivalry and revolts against the

symb ol ic father. ( I t was also less compl i cated and representative of the

larger soc ie ty than the psychoanalytic movement, for example, in that i t


contained no women and generated no significant internal challenges to

D urkheim's authority.) For its members the Annie seemed almost to b e an

intemporal moment parfait. Jules Ferry, perhaps the foremost figure i n educational reform under the

Third Republic , d id not qu i te fit into the pattern of the "marginal man." From the upper-bourgeois Protestant establishment in the Vosges, he mar

r ied (late in l i fe ) a woman from the Protestant patriciate of Mulhouse .

But the men with whom he surrounded himself were largely from smaller

Protestant fami l ies , and they were more impregnated than the rather bu

reaucratic "cold fi sh" Ferry with the p iet i s t sp ir i t found in Kant h imself. Of

the men assist ing Ferry, especial ly significant was the tr inity of Ferdinand Buisso n , Ju l es Steeg, and Felix Pecaut.42

These three came to France from Switzerland. Steeg and Pecaut had

been Protestant m in isters, and Buisson a teacher. Ferry appointed Buisson

("my very dear friend, the apple of my eye") Director of Primary Education.

His role in the Republ ic has b een described as that of " lay high priest ."43 In

1 89 8 he was e lected pres ident of the Ligue pour Ia D efense des Droi ts de ! ' H o m m e (League for the D efense of the Rights of M an ) .44 Th i s voluntary

associat ion, of which Durkheim was an active memb er, had been founded

by Clemenceau dur ing the Dreyfus Afir to combat the anti-Dreyfusards.

Buisson had been appointed in 1 896 to the chair in the Science of Education

at the Sorbonne , where he was replaced upon his election to the Chamber

of Deputies i n 1 902 by Durkheim.

Ju les Steeg also became a deputy, and finally Inspector G eneral of Pub

l ic Instruction. Into the task of developing a program of moral and civic

instruction in the school system, he poured his immense store of spir itual

e nergy. Like Durkheim, he was the author of works on moral education.

Prominent among his contrib utions to this favorite genre of the per iod was

a Cours de morale a !'usage des instituteurs.

Perhaps the most interesting figure i n this group was Felix Pecaut. He

was the exemp la r of neo-Kant ian morali ty, l ibera l Protestantism , t h e culte de la patrie, and a democratic civic spir it . H e was appointed by Ferry to head

the ecole normale for institutrices at Fontenay-les-Roses, one of the schools

designed to free the women of France from the i nfl uence of the Church.

Fontenay-les-Roses has been described as "the sweet lay convent where

Pecaut was the fl sher of souls ."4 5 Pecaut was the author of a very interest-


ing article on Durkheim, which seized with penetration the contemporary

import of D urkheim's theory of rel igion that was of specia l interest to men

like h imself:

The secret finality [of rites] was not to be expressions of faith bu t the means by which the moral experience i s created and re-created . . . . In the heart of rel igion, one always fi nds the mult iform experience of the moral conscience . . . . In our time we have asked ourselves if a morality without religion could j ustify i tself in the eyes of reason and especially i f it could take hold of men's hearts. To this troubled quest ion , Durkheim answers that there is only one morality, created by society, but which may be thought either theological�y or positive&, that is with reference either to G o d or to society . . . . The d ifference is in the form of the representation, not in its object . . . . And how could pos i r ive moral ity fai l to act upon men's hearts , s ince at the basis of rel igion, there is unknown t o it the act ion upon individual consciences of the collective conscience?46

Two men were above all others i nstrumenta l 11 the d i ffus ion of

Durkheimian sociology and social phi losophy throughout the educational

system: Louis Liard and Paul Lapie . In addit ion to the contexts in which

he has already been mentioned, Liard had a hand in the introduction of

Durkheimism in secondary schools before World War I . Furthermore, he

invited Durkheim to lecture at the Ecole Normale Super ieure to candidates

for the agregation. From these lectures came the posthumously publ i shed

Evolutio n pt!dagogique en France ( 1 93 8 ) . Paul Lap ie came under Durkheim's

infhtence as a professor at Bordeaux, and he subsequently became an active

member of the Annee sociologique school . He continued Durkheim's work

as Director of Primary Education, rector of the Academy of Par is , and edi

tor of the Revue pedagogique. After World War I , his great innovation was

the introduction of Durkheimian sociology into the curriculum of instituteurs i n the state normal schools . Thus Durkheim's ideas could b e found

at all levels of the educational system. A critic o f the r ime observed: "The

requirement that M. Durkheim's sociology be taught in the two hundred

normal schools of France is among the gravest peri ls to w hich our country is subjected."47 Even the sh arp and witty Th ibaudet remarked, in his Re

p ublique des proftsseurs:


The introduction of the teaching of sociology i n our normal schools for imtituteurs by Paul La pie , upright and militant layman [laique ], the l ineal descendent o f the Buisson , Pecaut , and Steeg of the Repub l ic , ma rked a m ost impo rtant date on the sundia l of republ ican spir i tual power. Through this measure , the state , in its schools , furnished to imtituteurs what the Church in its seminaries fu rnished to the adversaries of the imtituteurs: a theology. Lapie be l i eved that the instituteurs would react criti cally to this teaching. Not at all . They reacted theologically. 48

To appreciate the e lement of truth in Thibaudet's characterization of the

function o f D u rkheimism among imtituteurs, one need only read the actual

statement of a teacher who enunciated the lesson he derived from Durkheim:

'"Durkheim? ' certain people sneer. 'That no longer catches on. Speak to us

of neo-Thomism. ' I 'm not disturbed by this att i tude. The vain resurrection

of old medieval catechisms will long have disappeared when Durkheimism wil l still be standing."49

The personalit ies and ideas of the professor-phi losopher-administrators

Liard and Lapie show the extent of their afflnity with Durkheim. 5 0 Louis

Liard is often credited with h aving made over the universities in France

almost single-handedly. In his Souvenirs d' une petite enfance, Liard described

with warmth his adolescence in Falaise , Normandy: h i s love for churches

bu i l t in the M idd le Ages, the wooden houses dating fro m the flfteenth

century, the ruins of the castle of the dukes ofN ormandy, and above a l l the

old college bui l t in the shadow of the ancient fortress. His own instituteurs

insti l led i n h im a taste for study through their selfl ess devotion to a call ing

devoid of personal ambit ion and a concern for getting aheadY

In 1 866 (with the same promotion as Buisson), Liard entered the Ecole

Normale Superieure and became a disciple of Jules Lachelier, and, through

h im, of Renouvier. Liard's thesis , " G eometrical Definit ions and Empirical

Definit ions , " was an excellent express ion of the Cartesianized neo-Kantian

i sm of the Republ ic ; i t was dedicated to Lachelier. Another work, Positive

Science and Metaphysics ( 1 878 ) , centered on the idea that "to negate the

real i ty of the ideal i s to negate our own reali ty. " Liard went on to argue i n

very Durkheimian fashion that "the socia l function of metaphysics i s to

keep up the faith in an ideal and to arrest two contrary but equally deadly

errors: the weakening of activity and uti l i tarian fever."52


Under the Second Empire, Liard bad been so mi l i tantly republ ican that

he was dismissed fro m his E rst teaching pos it ion and kept constantly under

the surveil lance of the imperial pol ice . When he became, l ike Durkheim

and La pie after him, a professor at Bordeaux, h e was overwhelmed by the

parlous state of higher education. In his Histoire de l' enseignement superieur (History of Higher Education) , he described how courses were opened up

to the general pub l ic i n order to E ll seats for which there were not enough

students. The audience recruited in this way was a curious medley of bon bourgeois with nothing to do and beggars in search of a warm place for a

few hours. Liard's taste for organization manifested itself at Bo rdeaux, where

he not only recast the structure of his own courses bu t also drew up plans for the new Faculty of Medic ine and Pharmacy. He fo l lowed "always t he

same method: a priori determination of the needs o f each Faculty i n order

to deduce the proper installations . " In L iard's own words, "The method

of my administrative work has always been the Cartesian method." 5 3 At

the reques t o f Ferry, the post of Direc tor of Higher Educat ion which was

vacated in 1 8 84 was fllled by Liard. " ' Yo u wi l l make the French universities, ' Jules Ferry h ad t o l d hi m . That was exactly what he wanted to do . " 5 4

Subsequently ( 1 902- 1 9 1 7 ) , Liard was rector of the University of Paris,

a pos i t ion in which Lapie was to succeed h im . If the method of his ad

ministrative work was Cartesian, its guiding pr incip le was a variant of

D urkheim's "organic so l idarity. " From the lowest to the highest level and

throughout a l l departments and facult ies , the University of France was to

be characterized by sol idarist ic cooperat ion among its d i fferentiated parts in order to ensure "the realization of a super ior fu nct ion - the inte l lectual

and moral l i fe of the nat ion ."5 5

L ike Durkheim, Liard had been left fatherless very early i n life. His

mother, of old Norman stock, was tender and austere, and lived constantly

with the idea of death. She had even selected the wood for her coffl n . "She

taught her son that one th ing was worse than death . Watching a funeral p rocessi o n pass by in fro n t of them , she said: 'I would rather see you bur

ied than see you fai l to do your duty' ." 56 After a life of duty and devotion to a cause, Liard experienced World War I as an unbearable shock which

hastened his death. He consented to being con£ ned to bed on! y when

"the categorical imperative commanded h im to retire ." In 1 9 1 7 , he d ied

of "total exhausti on . " 5 7


The son o f an instituteur, Paul Lap ie reta ined throughout his l i fe the myst ique of the educa tor's call ing with which h i s father had imbued h im. Andre Fonta ine recalled that when Lap ie was first appointed a �ycee professor, Fontaine had remarked: " I d on't know what Lapie's career will be , but I see him very well in the posi t ion of Liard . . . . At that t ime as always I b e l i eved Liard to b e the greatest univers ity leader we have ever had . " 58 As a

professor at Bordeaux and as a high administrative official , La pie cont inued to seek the society of humble imtituteurs, and he genuine ly shared their

serieux de la vie. H e combined the typica l republ ican personal ity traits of a n austere exterior and repressed sent iment : for h im too the categorical imperative was a sort of symbol i c father. F elix Pecaut recalled the impact

on republ ican intellectuals of Lapie's ed i torial in the Revue pedagogique ent i t l ed 'Soyons durs' [ 'Let 's Be Hard' ] . Hard on o urselves - that goes wi thout saying . " 5 9 On the desk in his offi ce Lapie kept a photograph of Victor Brochard, a blind paralytic teacher who continued to give his courses unt i l his death.

La p ie made tr ips to The Hague to honor the memory of perhaps his favorite phi losopher, Sp inoza . His thes is was ent i t led "The Logic of the Wil l . " In it , he defended the propos i t ion that the wi l l in the service of reason always tends toward j ust i ce and self-sacrifi ce. He rejected the ut i l i tarian correlat ion of reason, wil l , and se lf- interest . Under the influence o f D u rkheim

a t Bordeaux, La p ie became attached to the idea that logic and soc ia l ethics had to be soc iologically fed by facts and comparative analyses. He went on to write Timisian Civilization , Women and the Family, For Reason (on the rationalist function of secular educat ion) , and, after the Dreyfus Af

fair, justice through the State. I n the last work, La p ie argued that the role of the state was n o t to increase its own power or to maximize individual economic activity. It was to assure the re ign of j ust ice . Jud icial author i ty was the very prototype oflegitimate publ ic authori ty in the struggle against in jus t ice . This doctr ine impl ied the necessity of an economic "magistracy" of the state to fur ther socia l just ice .

A tireless worker, Lapie "was hard to the point of dying from i t , and when he fina l ly consented to be ing confined to bed, i t was never to r i se again."60 On his deathbed, La pie ut tered the sentence: "This bed tyrannizes

over me . " 6 1 O n e of the last t imes Lap i e left home in sp i t e of severe i l lness

was to go to the Societe Franc;:aise de Phi losophie to hear a report on the teaching of French i n Buenos Aires .

Chapter 2 Durkheim s Milieu 4 !

A persona l i ty type emerges a lmost o f i t s own accord from these

sketches of republ ican educators and intel lectuals who were Durkheim's

peers . Bu t a b i t more attent ion must b e pa id to their attitudes and ideas .

Within the relatively stabi l ized context of the Third Republ ic , Durkheim

and his peers const i tuted a reform group that sought structural consensus without resort to violent revo lut ion . The Weltanschauung of republ ican

leaders was an amalgam of l iberal democracy, neo-Kantian spir i tual ism,

and "an immense and grave patr iot ism, a pass ionate and somewhat sad

attachment to a patrie which they wished to make more beautiful, greater,

more worthy, and more self-conscious than i t is. "62 The Rep ub l i c was no t only the bureaucratic provider o f careers to satisfy all legitimate ambit ions ;

i t was to provide "a great and efficac ious lesson in mo ra l digni ty. "63 The

moral phi losophy of Kant, which was dominant among republ ican intel

lectuals , had received its more Cartesian, readily assimi lab le , and social ly

relevant formulat ion in the works of Charles Renouvier. Indeed, the ideas

of Renouvier played for the short-lived democratic republ ic of 1 848 a role

s imilar to the ideas of Durkheim in the Third Republ ic . For what i t was wo rth , a con temporary mot had i t t h at " Durkh e im i sm is sti l l Kant ian ism

but reviewed and completed by Comteanism . " 64

The resultant was a crystall ization of the archetypical idea of the repub

lican inst i tut ion that would assure soc ia l consensus and sol idarity through

a coordinat ion of the educat ional system, the occupational sphere, and

the state under the supreme auspices of a humanist ic , universal ist ic pub l i c

phi loso phy. Within th i s ideo logical context, one can see clearly emerging

an ecumenical spir it in rel igion and phi losophy as well as a reorientation

of l iberal Protestantism in the direction of civic consciousness, community

spir it , and even a socially, morally, and aesthetical ly grounded interest in

r i tual . Moral ph i losophy increasingly became the rel igion of mass democ

racy and its concept ion of the essence of all rel igion. The Enl ightenment

nexus of philosophe and cit izen replaced the medieval un ion of priest and

king and, one might add, t h e mo re pri m i tive bond between poet and

sorcerer.

The pedagogical effect was the percept ion of moral educat ion as the

common core of a l l educat ion . And soc io logy, for Durkheim, had an

int imate re lat ion to p edagogy insofar as socio logy was a ground work for

moral educat ion. Durkheim took as h i s own spec ia l task the at tempt to


"discover the rational substitutes for these rel igious not ions which for so

long h ave served as the vehicle for the most essential of moral ideas. "65

Bu t a rational concept ion of morality could no t merely cut away rel igious

be l i efs. The one Comtean dictum Durkheim always upheld was the idea

that one should destroy only what one could replace. This dictum distanced h im from a variant of anarchism prevalent at h i s t ime and qui te

important i n French intellectual and cultural h is tory down to the pres

ent.66 Although Durkheim at fi rst conceived his project as an attempt to

present moral forces in their "rational nud i ty . . . wi thout recourse to any

mythological intermediary," his idea of rat ional ism was later expanded

to include a type of mythology which, in his eyes , complemented reason

instead of contradict ing it. Society itse lf, in his thought , eme rged at t imes

as an object of be l i ef or even a mythical enti ty.

Within the republ ican inst itut ion and its rationalist cult, the function

of the teacher as a consensus bu i lder became central. As Durkheim saw i t ,

the teacher's miss ion was to se lect and disseminate "those principles which

in spite of all divergences are from this time on the b asis of our civilizatio n , imp l i ci t ly or expl ic i t ly co m mo n to a l l , and which few wou ld dare to

deny: respect for reason, for science, for the ideas and sentiments which

are the b asis of our democratic m orali ty. "67 The aura of mystique which

enveloped this conception of the educator's function i s d iffi cult to convey.

In a magnifi cent phrase o f C anivez, the classroom was " le l i eu de discours

retenus" (the place for hushed discourse).68 For Durkheim, as fo r so many

other repub l ican inte l l ectuals, the teacher gathered up in his chalk-marked hands the lingering strands of the sacerdotal traditi on :

What constitutes the authority wh ich colors so readily the word of the priest i s the elevated idea h e has of h i s miss ion; for he speaks in the name o f a god in whom he bel i eves and to whom he feels closer than the crowd of the profane. The lay teacher can and must have something of this sentiment. He too is the o rgan of a great moral person who transcends him: this is society. Just as the priest is the interpreter of his god, so the teacher is the interpreter of the great moral ideas of his time and country.69

Thus t h e un ique , symbo l i cally charged contr ibut ion of Durkhe im to

republican ideas was the elaboration of a relatively consistent theory of

Chapter 2 Durkheim s Milieu 43

morality as the inst i tut ional and ideological bas is o f sol idarity in society.

Not all republ ican intellectuals who constituted Durkheim's privileged

audience agreed w ith this concept ion of moral i ty. The fine fleur of French

neo-Kantian sp i r i tualism subjected Durkheim to a constant b arrage of

criticism, including face-to-face encounters in the Societe Franc;:aise de Phi losophie . This reaction to Durkheim manifested the tenuous basis of

consensual pub l ic phi losophy among educators in a country like France,

where despite - or perhaps b ecause of - the extremely centralized and

bureaucratized educational system, thinkers have a penchant for dialectical

disagreement i f only for the sake of m arginal d ifferent iat ion . Durkheim's

celebrated "Determination du fai t moral" of 1 90 6 ( included in his Sociologie et philosophie) provoked an extensive "oui , mais" type of discussion that cov

ered approximately one hundred densely printed pages of the Bulletin de !a Societe Fram;aise de Philosophie. The evocation of h i s own lycee education by

the last o f Durkheim's truly mil i tant disciples in France, Armand Cuvil l ier,

is signifi cant in this respect. Instead of concentrat ing on the social context

of morality in Durkheimian fashion, his philosophy professor, the gadfly

G ustave Belot, would direct h is "sarcasms against the 'conscience collective,' which he called 'l 'inconscience collective,' and against those states of primi tive

conformism where 'everybody admits what n o one has really thought' . " 7 0

The criticisms of Durkhe im by h is contemporaries were often cogent

and induced by the ambiguities of Durkheim himself, which at times were

great enough to qualify him as whipping boy in introductory phi losophy

classes. Subsequent criticisms have often unknowingly recapitulated ideas of Durkheim's own peers. Indeed, the charge of sophistry had sufficient staying

power to receive an echo in Raymond Aron's 1 967 analysis of D u rkheim's

thought.7 1 But something more must have been involved in the reluctance

of Durkheim's contemporaries to separate his b as ic po int of view from the

terminological husk in which it o ften was conveyed.

The fundamental reason was that members of the republican el ite were often committed to spir i tual and mora l variants of extreme ind iv idualism

that at t imes imp l i ed a secularized Protestant metaphysic. The relationship

b e tween the individual and the ideal was conceived on the model of an un

mediated nexus having l ittle to do with so l idarity in society. This tendency

was manifested in the infl uential metaphysic of Bergson's Two Sources of

Religion and Morality ( 1 932 ) , written part ial ly in react ion to Durkheim's


Elementary Forms o [the Religious L�fe ( 1 9 1 2 ) . And one found the taste for

the individual ism of an inwardness transcending society even in the doc

trine of Alain, with its practical reformulat ion of the Cartesian mind-body

dual ism. Alain presented the role of the individual in society as a negative

conformism which sa id "yes" with the body to external constraints, bu t an eternal, soul-saving "no" with the spir i t . Such notions generated resistance

to Durkheim's idea that society was a solidary whole greater than the sum

of its p arts and to the analytic concepts which made theoretical sense of

th i s idea : social structure, conscience collective as i t s psychological ground in

the personal ity, norm, and type. Durkhe im, in brief, tended to sh ift Kant's

noumenal sphere in the direct ion of the conscience collective of society and to situate the transcendenta l ego as a subject com m un icating with o the r

subjects in society. Indeed, secular debates about the individual and society

(l ike later debates about the sign and meaning) tended to displace rel igious

anxieties about the relation (or nonrelation) b etween the transcendent and

the immanent status of the sacred. The horrifi ed reaction to Durkheim's

in i t iative of a thinker who was perhaps the best technical phi losopher of

his t ime i n F rance se t the to ne . I n a letter to Durkhe im's own phi losophy professor Emi le Boutroux, Ju les Lachelier wrote of an ear l ier theorist of

sol idarity:

Yo u must have read in the Revue philosophique a very curious art icle of Marion on the prehistoric fami ly. All that, as I told you the other evening, is frightening, and when it h as real ly co m e to pass , we must ins ist that it has not come to pass , that history is an i l lus ion and the past a project ion and that there is nothing true except the absolute . There we have perhaps the solution of the problem of the miracle : it is the legend which i s true and history which is false .72

The intellectual and academic cause a!lebre of Durkheim's own day,

which opposed h im to a prominent figure of the Republ ic , moved on a

level less elevated than that of the absolute and of ten less interesting than

that which separated history and legend. This was his notorious debate with

G abr ie l Tarde, which, l ike the great debates in the scholastic tradition that

it evoked, divided students into two host i le intel lectual camps. In contrast

with Durkhei m's focus upon social structure and impersonal processes in

history, Tarde's stress was on the spontaneity and inventiveness of the in-

Chapter 2 Durkheim s Milieu 4 5

novative individual . 73 Yet - as Charles Blonde! has shown i n detail i n his

Introduction a ia psychologie collective - the heat of personality and dia

lectic frequently prevented Durkheim and Tarde fro m realizing the extent

to which their problems were complementary. In fact, the thought of the

early Durkheim and ofhis opponent Tarde (who died in 1 904) represented two halves of a divided entity - the exteriority and constraint of fo rmal

inst itutions and the repressed emotion and inwardness of the individual

personal i ty. Only after Tarde's death d id Durkheim seem to recognize the

"pathogenic" nature of this dichotomy in its extreme forms and propose

a model of the "normal" society that combined normative discipl ine with

spontaneous commitment, and the internal ization of norms with a margin of anomie that allowed for individual creativity.

The substantive issues involved in the Durkheim-Tarde debate were

com promised by a severe personality confl ict. Tarde himself was very much

the grasshopper to the neo-Kantian ant in Durkheim. His career pattern and

style of thought were quite different from those of Durkheim. In contrast

with Durkheim, who regularly ascended through the "normal" institutional

channe ls to a professo rsh ip at t h e Sorbonne , Tarde m oved lateral ly from the

extra-academic vantage po in t of a high place in the French magistracy and

salon society into the penthouse of the French scholarly world: the Col

lege de France. His more fl amboyant way of l ife had its counterpart in the

carefree , essayistic, and almost impress ionist ic style of the works in which

he developed his idea of the role of the individual in society. As Charles

Blonde ! has aptly put i t :

[Tarde] does not have the superst it ion of order and logic: h e writes notes, articles, and, gathering them together, he inserts a few j o ints and makes of the whole a book . A certain dilettantism gives h im the abi l i ty to smile and dictates to h im the mos t alert and piquant fo rmu las on the gravest subjects : "Obedience to duty offers two advantages: it absolves you often of the need for foresight [p revoyance] and always of the need for success. "74

If the controversies opposing Durkheim to republican in tellectuals seem

in retrospect to h ave the air of family quarrels, the oppos i t ion m anifested

on the Right was more serious and deeply rooted. The Right in Durkheim's

France was a complex phenomenon which an outstanding analytic histo-


rian of the per iod has treated in terms of "anti-revolut ionary fo rces which

were negative enough to want to go back to the years b efore 1 7 89 , and the

counter-revolutionary forces, which accepted some fruits of the Revolut ion

but reacted against certain o f i ts histor ical consequences . "7 5

The more intransigent and doctrinaire antirevolutionary fo rces found their theoretical forebears in traditionalists l i k e Maistre and Bonald . These

conservatives a outrance, who formed, i n Comte's famous phrase, the "Im

mortal Retrograde School" of social theory, became (at t imes along with

Comte himse lf ) the inspiration for later reactionary movements such as

the Action Franc;:aise. Charles M aurras, the founder of this movement,

was of course a self-styled disciple of Comte . Born in the opposit ion to the Dreyfusard victo ty, the Action Franqaise not only mob i l ized forces

host i le to D urkheim's Republ ic ( " I a gueuse" - "the s lut" - the favorite

epithet of Maun·as) but also eventually became a mainstay of the Vichy

government. The Third Republic of Durkheim's time was, moreover, the

locus not only of the traditional currents ofJ acobin and liberal patriot ism

on the Left and of anti-D reyfusard "integral nationalism" on the Right but also of a newer and mo re radical nat iona l i sm which began to m anifest

itself about 1 905 and reached its prewar climax in 1 9 1 1 . For a historian

of this movement, it was the result of one-upmanship in patriotic asser

t ions ( from which only the Social ist Party managed to refrain ) , and it was

socially based in the lower middle classes of Paris b efore spreading to the

provinces after the Agadir incident 76 Thus to some extent the protofascist

nationalism which was to feed the "league" movement after World War I

had its origins in the prewar per iod .

Those who placed D u rkh e im i n the trad i t i on o f such conservat ive

th inkers as M ai s t r e and B onald - n o t to s p e ak of f asc jsm - were

n o t only tota l ly insens i t ive t o D urkhe im's own h j s t o r ica l context b ut

p ro n e to mis take s up e rfic ia l ana logjes for p rofound h i s t o r i cal cont i

nu i t i es . l7 Ce r ta in ly, D urkh e i m s t re s sed such th eme s a s com mun i ty, au tho r jty, and th e des i rab i l i ty o f a s i gn ifi c an t m e as u re o f h i s to r i cal

con t inu i ty. B u t in h i s t h o ught they were re lated to a r efo rm i s t p ro j

ec t . T h e subs tant ive c ontext in to which D urkhe jm i ntegrated the se

themes was that of r e p u b li can d e mocracy and i n di v idua l auton o m y

p e r mi t t jng free acceptance o f n o r m at ive s t ructures involv ing, n o t

r ig id h i erarchy, b u t pa r t i c i p a t i on a n d representat jon . T h e inte l lectual


fea t of D urkhe im wa s to attempt to disengage certa in genera l , i f no t

universal , v a lue s such a s community and the n e ed for soc i a l d i sc ip l ine

from react ionary h is tor ica l long ings and to reconc i l e t he s e va lues

w i th s p e c i fica l ly modern needs , thereby aver t ing s u ch "soc io log ica l

monstros i t i e s " as l a ter emerged i n fasc ism . T h e one p ar t i al but s ign i ficant except ion to t h is genera l i za t ion is D urkhe im's t reatment ( o r

n o ntreatment) of i s sue s re l a t ing to gender , s exua l re la t ions , and t h e

ro le of w o m e n w h er e h i s i d e a s r ema ined b as i ca l ly t rad i t iona l a n d h e

res i s ted o r avo ided pos s ib i l i t i e s of analys is and cr i t ique suggested b y

other d imens ions o f h i s thought . The counterrevo lut io nary movement in Durkheim's France took the

forms of l iberal ism and Bonapartism in pol i t ics and of l iberal Catho l icism

in rel igion. More pragmatic in tenor than the antirevo lut ionary movement,

it resisted only selected aspects of the Revolut ion, whose social and eco

nomic impl i cations were opposed by l iberal ism, and democratic and l iberal

implications by Bonapartism. Liberal Cathol ics demanded the r ight of the

disestablished Church to run its own schools . Since any extensive analysis

would be beyond the scope of this s tudy, it is sufficient to note that the

more liberal demands (manifested in Pope Leo Xl l l 's call for ralliement of

Catholics to the Republ ic and Marc Sangnier's social idealism) received little

implementation in the Church in Durkheim's time. The alliance of the far

Right and the Catholic Church, which continued the reactionary alliance

of throne and altar, confronted the newly formed Republic with extremist

obduracy. It was met in kind, with the predictable result that both sides tended to escalate their demands in a bitter syndrome of action and reac

t ion. "Church and State were torn apart , not neatly separated: and pol i tical

b itterness was fed with new fuel . " 7 8

The threat from the far Right b efore the Dreyfus Affair was aggravated

by the fact that the mi l i tary and upper echelons of the state bureaucracy

( including the Conseil d'Etat at the highest level) were staffed in significant numbers by men of react ionary leanings. As Alain put it , with some exag

geration, i n 1 906 : " I n France, there are a great number of radical voters,

a certain number of radical deputies , and a very small number of radical

ministers: as for the chefi de service, they are all reactionary. The person who

understands this well holds the key to our pol i t ics . "79 The ultimate clash

between the Right (merging the forces of the Church, the Army, the upper


bureaucracy, and anti-Semitism) and the Republic (momentarily coalescing

the forces of the Left) was of course the Dreyfus Affair. David Thomson

has summarized the core issue in this confrontat ion, which appeared as an

apocalyptic moment of truth to all the adversaries:

The fact that Dreyfus was a Jew, and that his condemnation led to a wider drive by the authoritarian mil i tarists and clericals to exclude not merely Jews but Protestants and Republicans from positions of mil itary and admin istrative power, raised the issue in dramatic fo rm. It was a clash of rival absolutisms - a challenge of intolerance which bred an equally severe intolerance amongst the Radicals and Freemasons, the anti-clericals and Socialists. Democracy had clearly to be a social and pol i t ical order based on common citizenship and civilian rights within the Republic : or else it would b e replaced by an authoritarian, hierarchic order, dominated by Church and privileged ruling classes in Army and Civil Service. French logic interpreted the confl ict in these clear terms, and the battle began.30

A crucial long-range problem involved in the ideological confrontation

of the Right and the Republic was the control of education. "The separation

[of Church and State] was only the negative part of an ideal of which the

posi tive part, or rather the counterpart, implied the reunion of the school

and the State . "8 1 The effort of the Republic to purge the Church from the

educational system engendered the related problems of teachers, curriculum,

and moral education. The clergy and its spiritual infl uence had to be re

placed. We have noted Durkheim's priestly conception of the lay teacher - the "b lack Hussar" of the Republic, in Charles Peguy's tell ing phrase.

With respect to the curricu lum, i t is important to recognize the historical

correlation of classical education and conservatism in Durkheim's France.

This association led a contemporary observer to quip that the Republ ic

faced two "social quest ions" : the relat ion of capital and labor and Latin

verse.82 The historical association of the defense of a classical education, of

conservative polit ics , and of a highly stratified social order was the concrete

basis for Du rkheim's sustained attacks upon d i l ettantism and Renaissance

humanism as antimodern tendencies subservient to the interests of a small

elite. Durkheim's conception of reform comprised the democratization of

education and a curriculum that would give students, along with a necessary


background in general culture, the type of training that would prepare them

for specialized functi ons in modern society. Yet it has not been recognized to

how great an extent the spir it of classical philosophy remained the foundation

of Durkheim's social phi losophy. Suicide, with its emphasis on the sense of

legitimate l imits and its intimation of an inst i tut ionally furthered "golden mean" in social l ife, owes much to the classical tradit ion.

It is synoptical ly useful though excessively stereotypical to frame the

quest ion of the relation o f Durkheim's Republ ic to the Church in terms of

contrasts: instituteur versus cure; social and na rural science versus the classics;

social and moral phi losophy versus old-t ime religi on . In any case, a further

point must be made concerning Durkheim's pos i t ion on the church-state con troversy and the battle over educati on : he never made an express political

pronouncement on this issue. He indeed labeled the Cathol ic Church "a

monstrosity from the sociological po int of view."83 But he directed this

comment against the extremely b ureaucratic, centralized, and h ierarchical

organizati onal structure of the Church. In the same vein, he p u t forth a

crit ique that appl ied to his own Republic : "A society composed of an infinite dust of unorganized in dividuals which an hypertroph ied state tr ies to hem in

and restrain consti tutes a veritable sociological monstrosity. "84 His pos itive

concern in both i nstances was the creation of sol idarist ic groups in which

communal values would be reconciled with institutional organization and

respect fo r the rights of the individual .

In addit ion, one did not find in Durkheim the offended, vengeful spir i t

of the ex-seminarian Emile Combes or the crude posit ivism embodied

in Paul Bert's comparisons of the clergy to the phylloxera blight which

destroyed the vines of France, and of the law imposing restrictive state

regulation on religious establishments to heal ing copper sulfate. Nothing

was more a l ien to Durkheim's spir i t than penny-ante Vol tairianism. The

basic inspiration of Durkheim's conception of religion was ecumenical . And

he ultimately recognized, however tendentiously, the necessity of special symbo lisms of a mythical nature insofar as they co m pl emented rather than

contradicted the general rational values basic to consensus in modern society.

For different reasons, the social metaphysic which was his own ultimate

explanatory approach to religious symbolism was offensive both to students

of culture who saw religion analytically "from the outside" and to be l i ev

ers who experienced rel igion "from the ins ide . " B ut the practical thrust of


his thought within his own historical context was to offe r the Church the

same sort of !iving arrangement it had offered to prior religions in occupied

territory: tolerance for their symbol ic forms i f they accepted its basic mes

sage. Catholicism, in other words, had to become a nondisruptive part of

a larger social consensus. The classical conservative indictment of the Republic, its phi losophy,

and its corps of instituteurs was Les Deracines ( The Uprooted), the ideologica l

novel of Maur ice B an·es. But the best i l lustration of Rightest reaction to

Durkheim himself and his particular role i n the Republ ic was the report of

"Agathon," the pseudonym of Henri Massis and the son of G abrie l Tarde,

the more status-conscious Alfred de Tarde. This work85 was man ifes tly inspired by conservative po l itics, traditional rel igi on , activist nat ional i sm, and

a romanticized, soci ally el it ist defense of classical education. I t claimed to

represent the dominant op in ion of French university students immediately

before World War I .

For the authors of the Agathon Report , Liard had made Durkheim

"a sort of prefect of studies . . . the regent of the Sorbo nne , the al l-power

fu l maitre. " Durkheim's posit ion on key com mittees l ike the Conse i l de

I ' Universite de Paris and the Comite Consultat if enabled him "to su rvey

a l l appointments in higher educat ion ." Under his i ron rule , p rofessors of

ph i losophy were "reduced to the s imple ro le of functionar ies . " Pedagogy

was Durkheim's "own private domain . " But sociology was b efo re all e lse

the "one o ffi cial doctr ine at the Sorbonne . " Sociology had taken the place

of the old phi losophy which had fallen fro m grace. It had become "the

kingpin of the New Sorbonne." Moving from the conspiratorial indictment

to the rhetorical quest ion , the authors of the Agathon Report concluded

by asking: "Who is there that does not feel the truly inhuman qua l i ty i n

this debauchery of logic, these cold a n d deductive reveries, these misty

analyses of concepts , and what poor food is offered to the avid heart and

intel l igence of students?"86 Attitudes toward Durkhe im const ituted one area in wh ich extremes

found ad hoc consensus in France. The standard Marxist categorization of

Durkheim was that of "bourgeois Ideal ist , " and the terms of crit icism fre

quently coincided with those of the Agathon Report. The most sustained,

if savagely rhetorical , treatment of Durkheim and his mil ieu by (at least a

pro tempore) French Communist close to the controversies of the time was

Chapter 2 Durkheim s Milieu 5 I

in P au l Nizan's Chiem de garde ( The Watchdogs) of 1 93 2 . 8 7 In this youthful

book, Nizan rewrote M arx's German Ideology to m ake it apply to intellectual

and educational leaders in the Third Republic. One of the most viciously

unobtrusive of the "watchdogs" of the Republic was Durkheim, the "maitre of the Moral Fact."

Durkheim was necessary for the b o urgeois university to enter into possession of its own doctrines : this strengthening of the spiritual s ituation, this passage from the vague to the dogmatic, from the obscure to the distinct, is rather well expressed in Durkheim's declarat ion to Agathon in November 1 906 : "Let's get to work and in three years we'l l have a morality." They had i t a l l r ight. This morality exists . . . . Everything really happened as if the founder of French socio logy wrote the Division of Labor in Society to permit obscure administrators to compose a course of instruction destined for the instituteurs. The introduction of sociology into the normal schools consecrated the admini strative victory of o ffi cial moral ity . . . . In the name o f this science instituteurs teach children to respect the French patrie, to j ustify class collaboration, to accept everything, to commune in the cult of the Rag and bo urgeois democracy . . . . The manuals [of the Durkheim school ] , among other works, manifest the power of diffus ion of this doctrine of obedience, of conformism, and of social respect which, with the years, has obtained such credit and such a numerous audience.88

To engage in rhetorical overstatement and to dismiss Durkheim in toto as yet one more "bo urgeois ideal ist" or airy ho use ideologue of the status

quo was to lose sight of what he actual ly acco mpl i shed . A real problem

for an existentially relevant, l iv ing Marxism was the selective assimilation

of the valid insights of a Du rkheim. B u t it is d ifficul t not to sympathize

with critics who found in Durkheim excessive abstractness, naive social

optimism, and tendentious vagueness often combined with dogmatic as

sertion. Despite his growing concern with modern "social pathology, " one

problem Durkheim never broached in his pedagogical works was the pos

s i b i l i ty that a schoo l system in wh ich teachers selected and dissemi nated

consensual ideals might find itself special izing in the transmission of the

type of myth that bl inded people to social realities and laid inadequate

factual bases for social reform. No doubt, Durkheim's own posit ion in the


educational establishment contributed to the fact that the treatment of the

diffi cult problem of means to effect the reforms he envisaged was perhaps the

weakest chapter in his thought about modern society. He was forever vague

about the type of practical activity that was related both to the acquis it ion

of concrete knowledge and to the project of changing society in a desirable

direction. An open reckoning with Marx would have deepened Durkheim's

penetration into modern institutions and ideologies . At the very least, i t

would have forced h im to treat more adequately the role o f economic fac

tors and social confl ict in modern l ife . Yet i n his sole extended discussion

of Marxism ( in a review of a work by Antonio Labriola) , Durkheim took

special pains to insist that he had "not in the least undergone the influence of Marx ." 8 9 I ndeed the influence of Durkhe im in French social thought

was one reason why a systematic and derailed confrontat ion with Marx i n

France was delayed unti l the 1 93 0s .

What precisely was Durkheim's pos it ion i n the spectrum of practical

po l i t ics? Marcel Mauss has characterized Durkheim's relationship to so

cialism in the fo l lowing terms:

D u rkh e i m was q ui t e fam i l i ar w i th s o c i a l i sm at its very s o urces , thro ugh S a i n t-S imon , S chaeffle, and Karl Marx w h o m a F inni sh fri e n d , N e i gl i ck , h ad advised h im t o s tudy dur ing h is s t ay in Le ipz ig . A l l h i s l i fe he wa s re luctant to a d h e re t o s o ci a l i sm (proper ly s o -ca l l ed ) b ecause of cer ta in features o f th i s m ovement : i t s v i o l en t nature , its c lass character - n1 or e or l e s s work ingmen's - and therefo r e i t s po l i t i ca l and even po l i t i c i an- l ike tone . D u rkhe im wa s profound ly oppos ed t o a l l war s of c l a s s or n at i o n . He de s i r ed change o nl y for the b en efi t of the w h o l e of s o c i e ty and no t of one o f i t s p arts even i f the la t te r h a d numbers and force . H e cons idere d p o l i ti c al revolu t i on s and par l i amentary evo lu t i o n as s up e rfi ci al , co s tly, and m o re dramat ic than s e r i ous . He the r e fo re a lways r e s i s t ed the i de a of s ubmi tt ing himself to a party of p o li t i ca l d i sc ip l in e , e s p e ci a l ly an i nternat i o na l o n e . Even th e s o ci al a n d p o l it i c a l cr i s i s of the D re yfus Affa i r, i n wh i ch h e played a large pa r t , d id n o t change h i s o p i n i o n . He the refore remain e d uncommitt ed - he "syn1-path ized" ( a s i t is n o w ca l l ed ) wi th t h e s oc i al ists , w i t h J a ures , w i th s oc i a l i sm. But h e never gave himself t o i t . 9 0


This precis of Durkheim's attitude toward social ism b y his nephew

and col league must nonetheless be qual ified. For one thing, Durkheim's

ideas on the poss ib i lit ies o f corporatism in modern society included cer

tain features of democratic social ism although his views might not go far

enough to sat isfy those who saw an unacceptable disproport ion between the "numbers" or putative "force" of certain segments of the populat ion

and the opportunity, income, and wealth al lotted to them . Du rkheim

defi nitely d id not subscr ibe to any exist ing social ist viewpoint , but he did

attempt to offer a subst itute for existing viewpoints that , h e felt , integrated

their desirable, and avoided their undesirable , aspects. H e apparently d id

not be l i eve in the necessity or desirabil ity o f apocalyptic, violent revolution in his own society or advanced industr ia l soc iet i es in genera l . Bu t he

did see a strong element of value in the French Revolut ion , although l ike

Tocquevil le h e was aware of the respects in which traits of the ancien regime continued into the present despite the Revolut ion . The Revolut ion had

failed to realize i t s idea l s i n inst itut ions , b ut these idea ls , wh ich depended

for their genes is and formulation on social unrest of revolutionary proport ions , were of lasti ng value i n m odern soc i ety. And a democrat ic repub l i c ,

which itself was a long-delayed fru i t of the Revolut ion , found a lifelong

supporter in D urkheim.

On the whole , i t would be accurate to say that Durkheim found parlia

mentary evolution superfi cial when politics b el ied the promise of democracy

by remaining within the structural confines that detached it from the real

problems of society. To a large extent, politics in his own France did increasingly fal l into this category as the years wore on . Toward the end of his l i fe ,

Durkheim seemed to realize th i s . He contrasted, we are to ld , the youthful

hopes engendered by the golden age of the Republ ic with the actual nature

of politics circa 1 9 1 4 :

The "pol it ical kitchen" was always od iou s t o h im and h e avoided quest ions of personality and coterie. G ambetta was to some extent his ido l : if he l iked h im so m u ch , I think it was because of the large and generous spir it he found in h im. Chatting with Durkheim i n 1 9 1 4 , I heard h i m compla in that po l itics had become " a very smal l and mediocre thing." H e had always wanted i t to be grand: that was the way he saw it in his youth 9 1


In another respect , it d id not do to classify socia l i sm as violent and

pu rely working-class in Durkhe im's t ime . Indeed the complexity of so

cial ism and of the problems to which it sought an answer had a great

deal to do with Durkheim's hes i tancy. In his own France, there was , for

example, a measure of cooperat ion between the relatively smal l , weak, and internally divided trade-union movement and the par l iamentary Socia l i st

Party (composed mainly of bourgeois ) . B ut there was no thoroughgoing

integrat ion on the mode l of the Brit ish Labour Party. The more v io lent

strand of soc ia l i sm, wi th i t s doctrinaire ins istence upon class confl ict and

fa luttefinale, was taken up by anarchosyndical ism. G eorges Sore l became

i t s ex post facto theorist by borrowing from M arx's theory of classes and Durkhe im's ideas on r e l i g i on in a manner tha t was fa i thfu l to ne i th e r

Marx nor D urkheim. The upshot wa s a lyrical eu logy o f the "myth of the

general str ike" and the "poetry of social violence" which were to provide

effervescent energy and empowerment, i f not redemptive regeneration, for

a working class in movement . Sorel 's pos i t ion came close to a despair ing

defense of an act ivist phi losophy of violence independent of context and prob ab l e consequences - Ia politique du pire in i ts wors t form. As George

Lichtheim has argued, �arx himself rejected anarchosyndical ism as an

immature react ion and increasingly came to a more reformist concept ion

of effective socia l action i n advanced i n dustr ia l societ ies .

France remained important to Marxism [ in the per iod be tween 1 8 7 1 and 1 9 1 8 ] not merely for the obvious reason, but because of its strategic posit ion - at any rate down to the 1 8 90s - in the propagation of M arxist doctrine. Contrary to a widespread not ion i t was the first major party where a significant sect ion of the labour movement adopted a M arxist platform. This event took place in 1 880 , eleven years b efore the German Soc i a l Democrats fo llowed su i t . The p latform was a "reformist" one, in that it tacitly repudiated the Anarchist preachment of armed violence and the indigenous Blanquist tradition of Parisian coups d'etat. Instead emphasis was laid on the need for the working class to build up its organizations as the only basis of the coming collectivist order. This was a return to the classic document of the First International , the Inaugural Address [of 1 864 ] , and it marked the abandonment by M arx (who helped G uesde to draft the French party p rogramme) of his temporary infatuation with


the utopianism of the Paris Commune. It was precisely i n this sense that "Marxism" was then understood both by its adherents and by Bakunin's followers all over Europe .n

Durkheim himself seems to h ave cont inued to ident ify Marx and

Marxism with doctrinaire intransigence about violent class conflict . He undertook h i s studies in soci alism i n part because some of h is most br i l l iant

students were being converted to Marxist forms of socia l i sm. Mauss was

undoubted ly correct in find ing Durkheim's closest practical assoc iat ion to

be with Jaures . (One might retrospectively add the name of the Leon Blum

of A L'Echelle humaine - For All Mankind.) The main reason for the sp l i t

b e tween J aures and the Marxists in France was the issue of cooperation

with the radicals in defense of republ ican solidarity. Mauss observed that

" if i t was Lucien Herr who in 1 8 86- 1 8 8 8 converted J am·es to Social ism, i t was Durkheim who in 1 8 8 9- 1 896 turned him away from the po l i tical

formalism and the shallow phi losophy of the radicals ."93 But in a l l prob

abi l i ty Durkheim himself would have concurred with J aures on the issue of

pragmatic all iances to defend the Rep ublic against al l threats . In Lichtheim' s

words: "The fact that Jaures eventually imposed his out look o n the party

had much to do with the evolution of French Social ism from a worker's sect into a m ass movement."94

Jaures ' pos i t ion, however, also had much to d o with the tendency of the Social ist Party in France to subordinate bas ic issues to opportunist ic

considerat ions , electoral maneuvers, and the "pol it ical kitchen." Why was

it that Durkheim in this context did not become more pol i t ical ly active i n

a n attempt to use h i s intellectual powers and infl uence t o defend the bas ic

moral and phi losophical i s sues to which h e always gave pr imary emphasis?

On this one can only speculate . Unlike many of his disciples , Durkheim

did not have an activist temperament. M oreover, he may wel l h ave be l ieved

that by remaining "above parties" he had a greater chance of infl uencing

contending groups to accept his concept ion of rational reconstructi on . His defi ni t ion of socialism d id in fact influence both Jaures and Jules G uesde.9 5

Summing up i n 1 904 the lessons he had learned from the Dreyfus Affair, Durkheim observed:

Writers and scholars are citizens; i t i s thus evident that they have the strict duty to participate in pub l i c l ife . . . .


Men of thought and imaginat ion, it does not appear that they are particularly predestined to specifi cally po l i t ical careers; for these demand above al l the qual i t ies of men of action . . . .

I t is in my op in ion above all through the book, the publ ic l ecture, and popular edu cation that ou r efforts must be made . We must above a l l b e counselors and edu cators . . . .

But whenever a ser ious quest ion o f pr inciple has been raised, we have seen scientists abandon their laborator ies and scholars leave their private offi ces to move closer to the crowd and mingle in its life . Experience has shown that they know how to m ake themselves heard.

The moral agitat ion which these events [of the Dreyfus Affair] have provoked has not yet been extinguished, and I am among those who think that it must not be extingui shed; for it is necessary . . . . The hour of rest has not yet come for us . There i s so m u ch to do that i t i s i n dispensable for us to keep our soc ia l energies , in a m anner of speaking, perpetu ally mob i lized . This is why I be l i eve that the pol icy fol lowed in these last years [ 1 900- 1 904 ] i s preferable to the preceding one. I t has succeeded in maintaining a cont inuous current of col lective action of a reasonable intensity.96

Thus Durkheim's growing sense of crisis led h im to be l ieve that the

scholar should move from his "normal" activities into a pos it ion of more

mil itant concern. Indeed a l l Durkheim's major works culminated in a cal l

to action. In the final words of Suicide, he perhaps gave clearest expres

sion to his idea of the relation between theory and practice: "Once one

has established the existence of an evi l , what it consists of and on what i t

depends , when one knows i n consequence the general characteristics of

the remedy, the essential thing i s no t to draw up in advance a p lan which

foresees everything; i t i s to get resolutely to work."97

These considerations enable us perhaps to gain some insight into the

moot quest ion o f Durkheim's relation to the solidarist , or sol idarity, move

ment - a question on which we have little objective evidence. After the turn

of the centu ry, this m ovement secured extensive support from governments

in power unt i l it became "a sort of official philosophy of the Third Repub

l ic ."n In a sense the concept of "sol idarity" came to have in Durkheim's

France a status comparable to that of "consensus" in recent American his

tory, with many of the same obfuscations and ambiguit ies . So l idarity was


a theme - indeed an " idee-force," i n the expression of Alfred Foui l lee

- developed by the pol i t ic ian Leon Bourgeois (who rel ied on the not ion

of a quasi-contract as the bas is of socia l obl igation ) ; a j urist and student of

Durkheim at Bordeaux, Leon Duguit ; the socially conscious and humane

economist Charles G ide; and the p edagogue Henri Marion (whose De La Solidarite morale of 1 880 predated Durkheim's work by almost a generation) .

Desp i te a l l the verbal advocacy of solidarity, few o f the concrete welfare

measures proposed by advocates of the movement ever passed into law.

The parl iamentary deadlock stymied a l l action. For M arxists, sol idarism

amounted to a rose-colored, ritualistic gesture of academics of good will

and bad conscience whose desire for social peace had little relevance to the requ i rements of social acti o n . I ndeed, "the Left had always said that i t

came to nothing more than a pretentious restatement o f the classic slogan,

'Neither reaction nor revolut ion." ' � �

What hard facts of a historical nature do we have about Durkheim's

relation to the sol idarity movement? H e was named to the Faculte des

Hautes Etudes Sociales , founded in part to propagate sol idarism, and an i n ternat i o n al conference on so l i dar i sm ( i n cluded as part of the Exposit ion

Universelle of 1 900) had Durkheim as one of its guest speakers. Beyond

these two facts, the historical ground is less fl rm, and we are forced to rely

on op in ion and the nature of Durkheim's ideas themselves.

Harry Alpert has fl atly rejected any association of Durkheim with the

solidarist movement. "It is important not to identify Durkheim with the

Sol idarity movement. Although he too was immediately concerned with moral quest ions , and attempted to develop the ethical consequences of

social unity, he used the concept of 'solidarite ' in its pre-Bou rgeois, ob jec

tive, relational and non-ethical sense . " 1 00 Alpert's argument comprised both

the question of historical relationship and the nature of Durkheim's ideas.

On the latter point , Alpert , if I understand him correctly, misunderstood

Durkheim's usage of the concept of sol idarity - a grievous error, since this concept was at the very root of Durkheim's thought and reappeared in dif

ferent guises in all his works. Certainly, Durkheim insisted upon the obj ective

interdependence or soli darity of social and cultural phenomena in all states

of society and hence upon their amenability to formally rational, structural,

and functional analysis. But absolutely essential to Durkheim's social phi

losophy was the notion that socia l normality is equated with substantive


rational ity, especi ally in the latter's moral sense. On the level of human and

specifl cally social relations, Durkheim was not concerned exclusively or

even primarily with "obj ective" solidarity either in the formal, value-neutral

sense or in the restricted sense of an interdependence of economic interests .

As he stated in the preface to the first edit ion of De La Division du travail social ( The Division of Labor in Society) , his object was "to treat the facts of

the moral l ife according to the method of the positive sciences ." 1 0 1 Despite

certain ambiguit ies in the argument of the first edit ion of Durkheim's E rst

major work, the development of D urkheim's thought - including promi

nently the preface to the second edi t ion of The Division of Labor - makes

i t abundan tly clear that the social sense of so l idarity for Durkheim was preeminent ly mo ral and that it i n cluded both an "objective" componen t

in institutional and symbo l i c structures and a "subj ective" component in

internalization , communal sentiment, and personal commitment.

Alpert did not provide any evidence whatsoever for the contention that

Durkheim had no relationship with the sol idarist movement. Durkheim's

own trusted disciple Celestin Bougie , who, i f anyone, should have known,

p l aced Durkhe im with in the so l i dar ist movement in a work pub l i shed

( 1 903 ) dur ing the latter's l ifetime and in a larger work pub lished ( 1 924)

after h is death. In 1 903 , Bougie argued that in contrast with uti l itarian

individualism, "solidarism helps us to oppose these desiccating, dissolving,

and aristocratic forms of individualism with a democratic individual ism, a

fecund principle of social union and action, whose motto is not 'each man

in his own home' [chacun chez soil or 'each man for himself' [chacun pour soil but 'one for a l l and al l for one' [chacun pour tous et tous pour chacun ] . " 1 0 2

Indeed Bougie quoted Durkheim himself as asserting, "One can say that

there is not a s ingle sociological proposit ion which is not a direct or indirect

demonstration of sol idarity." 1 0'

The key practical problem (as Bougie saw) was whether and in what

contexts solidarity was proposed as a qua l i ty of the status quo or as a goal of act ion imp lying the necess ity of change. In Durkhe imian terms, this

amounted to the question of the extent to which the existing social order

was "normal" or "pathological ," for a primary qual ity of the normal state

of society was the existence of sol idarity. The mystifying and ideologically

tendentious use of the idea of solidarity to present a "pathological" status

quo as if i t were in all essential respects "normal" and thereby to mask vested


interest and legitimate the repression of dissidence was perceived both on

the Left and on the Right. The idea of sol idarity ( l ike that of consensus)

readily functioned as an ideology passed off as an index of the end of ide

ology. The conservative novelist Paul B ourget in his L'Etape observed of

one of his protagonists:

Ardent and critical souls are not in the least governed by formulas as vain and as empty as this moral ity of "human sol idarity" which filled the mouth of the anticlerical p ro fessor: He bel ieved he could replace by these two words the l iving tradition of order and love incarnated in the Church. He did not see that this expression of the relative dependence of be ings with respect to one another had two signifi cations: the well-meaning one was the only one h e wanted to see . But are not all the ferocities of the struggle for l i fe j ust ified by this formula? The l ion is in a state of solidarity with his prey, since he cannot l ive without it ; only this sol id arity consists in ki l l ing and devouring i t . 1 04

Aside from its reference to the false opt imism of republican educators,

this evocation of the universe of social Darwinism and the more subtle movement of Hegel's master-slave dialectic pointed to the possible function

of the idea of sol idarity in j ust if}ring exploitat ion. Despite certain equivocal

features of the Division of Labor, including its abstract and mechanist ic air

of false optimism, Durkheim recognized this po int . He increasingly saw

the achievement of moral so l idarity and social normality as a project of no

mean proportions in modern society and one whose realization required basic structural reforms. To this extent , he retained the nineteenth-century

usage of the term "solidarity" by the Left, which correlated it with basic social

reform rather than with token gestures or the self-serving attempt to bring

people together psychologically in a soci ally "pathological" status quo .

The importance of the Dreyfus Affair i n the context of the b attle b e tween

the pol i tical extremes and the Republ ic has already been touched upon.

What rema in s i s to indicate i ts impo rtance in Durkheim's intellectual de

velopment and to his conception of reform in modern society. The intense

engagement of Durkheim and his disciples in the Dreyfus Affair i nd i cated

the extent of its imp act upon them. Durkheim himself was a pr imary object

of attack by the anti-Dreyfusard forces. His classes were disrupted. And his


col laborators, in the wake of a series of bombings i n cafes surrounding the

Sorbonne, were even led to fear for his life. 10 5

Durkheim was moved to step into the pol it ical arena and write h i s

defense of Dreyfus ( in 1 8 9 8 ) in oppos i t i on to Ferdinand Brunet iere ,

the Cathol ic apologist and anti- Dreyfusard ed i tor of the Revue des deux mondes. Melvin Richter has accurately observed: " It is striking how the

theory elaborated in Les formes r!Mmentaires de fa vie refigieuse turns up at

the very center of the fervent defense Tlndividualisme et les intel lectuels , '

which Durkheim wrote at the height of the Dreyfus Affair ." 1 0 6 It m ight b e

added that in this complex issue , which involved t h e oppos i t ion b etween

justice and the demands of "law and order" in maintaining the status quo , Durkheim came o u t on the s ide of jus t i ce with an argumen t which was no t

only more sensitive to the ambiguities involved than the attitudes o f many

of the D reyfusards bu t which revealed much more than his own general

discussions of morality an awareness of the complexities i nvolved in any

concrete case of choice .

The respect f orauthorityhas nothing incompatible with rationalism, provided that authority is fo unded rat ionally . . . . I t i s not suffi cient in convincing men to remind them of this commonplace of banal rhetoric that soc ie ty is not poss ib le without mutual sacrifi ces and a certain s p i r i t o f s ubordinat ion ; one m ust just ify in the [ spec ific] instance the doci l i ty one asks of them . . . . When, on the contrary, one is concerned with a quest ion which, by definit ion, falls under common j udgment, such an abdicat ion is contrary to all reason and consequently to duty. Now, to know whether a tri bunal is permitted to condemn an accused person without hear ing h is defense does not require any special enlightenment . . . . M e n have asked themselves whether it is proper to consent to a temporary eclipse of pr inc ip le in order not to trouble the funct ioning of a publ ic administrat ion which everybody, by the way, recognizes to be indispensable to the secur ity o f the state . We do not know if the ant inomy really poses itself in th i s sharp form; but, in any case, if a cho i ce i s really n e cessary between these two evils, to sacrifi ce what has been up to the present time our historical raison d'etre would b e to choose the greater evil. An organ of pub l i c life, however important it may be , i s only an instrument , a means to an end. What good i s i t to conserve the means i f one detaches i t from its end? 1 07


It was i n this defense of Dreyfus , m oreover, that Durkheim's human

ist ic concept ion o f the "normal" ro le of individual i sm in modern societies

t ook definite and assert ive form. Durkheim observed that the indictment

of individual ism confounded it with "the narrow ut i l i tar ianism and uti l i

tar ian egoism of Spencer and the economists . " He re jected this faci le

identificat ion. "One has an easy time i n denouncing as an ideal w i thou t

grandeur th i s shabby commercia l i sm which reduces soc ie ty to the status

of a vast apparatus of product ion and exchange . " On the contrary, the

individual i sm which D urkheim d efended was "the indiv idual i sm of Kant

and Rousseau, of the sp i r i tual ists - that which the D eclarat ion of the

Rights of Man t r i ed more or less s uccessfully to translate into fo rmulas , that which we at present teach in o u r schools a n d which has beco m e t h e

b a s i s o f o u r moral catech i sm . " According to this s o r t of indiv idua l i sm,

duty cons i s ted i n turning away fro m our personal concerns and "our

empir i cal i ndividual i ty i n order to seek un ique ly what our nature as men

demands insofar as w e share i t i n common with a l l other men . " This

ideal t ranscended the leve l of egois t ic u t i l i t arian ends t o such an extent that i t seemed to be "marked with re l ig ios ity" and t o be "sacred in t h e

r itual sense o f the word . " The problem w a s " t o complete , extend, and

organize ind iv idual i sm, not to restr ict and comb at i t . " Reflect ion a lone

cou ld a id i n "find ing a way o ut of the present diffi cult ies . " With a rare

i ron ic fl ourish, Durkhe im concluded: " I t is no t in medi tat ing upon La

Politi que tiree de l'Ecriture sainte [ Bossuet's "Po l i t i cs Der ived from the

Very Words o f Sacred Scr ipture" ] that w e wi l l ever find the means of

organizing economic l ife and int roduc ing more j ust ice into contractual

relati o ns . " 108

But what is perhaps most significant is that D urkheim's intense awareness

of the crucial role of religion in social l i fe itself became prominent about

the t ime the Dreyfus Affair was breaking. In a 1 907 letter to the Revue m!o

scholastique, Durkheim asserted:

It was on ly in 1 895 that I had a clear understanding of the capita l role played by religion in social l ife . It was in that year that for the fi rst time I found the means of approaching the study of religion sociologically. It was a revelation to me. The course of 1 895 marks a l ine of demarcation in the development of my thought, so much so


that all my previous research had to be taken up again with renewed effort in order to be placed in harmony with these new views. 109

Durkheim in good scholarly fash i on went on to fl nd the scientifl c basis

of his reorientat ion in the studies of rel igious history he had undertaken

at the time, notably the works of Robertson Smith and his school . But i t

was n o accident that the "revelation" came t o h im about the t ime h e was

deeply involved in the Dreyfus Affair. For the i nvo lvement that consti

tuted a peak experience of republ ican intel lectuals had all the markings of Durkheim's i d ea of an effervescent social m ovement carr ied a l ong by

the quasi-rel igious force of a myst ique which revived and reanimated

great revolutionary ideals of the past . Charles Peguy - the constant crit ic

who, with impass ioned part ia l i ty, saw in Du rkheim only the offl cial rep

resentative of p etty rat ional i sm and state power - nonetheless expressed

a concept ion of the Dreyfus Affai r which Durkheim shared: "Our Dreyfus i sm was a re l ig ion . . . . just ice a n d trut h , which were so loved by us and

to which we gave everyth ing, were not at a l l the truth and j ustice of the

concept , of books ; they were organic, they were Christ ian ." 1 1 0

For Durkheim, the rassemblement of men o f good w i l l i n defense of

Dreyfus (who at times assumed the status of a totemic emblem symb ol ic

of col lective values) enabled modern l ife to transcend for a moment i t s

ordinary "moral mediocrity." From the t ime o f the Dreyfus Affair - i . e . , dur ing t h e second half of his i n te l lectual l i fe - Durkhe im, instead o f

focusing on the role of formal constraints, stressed the importance o f com

munal sent iment , col lective idea ls , and rel ig ious symbols in soc ia l l i fe .

A t least unt i l World War I . T h e war came as a rude awakening to

men l ike Durkheim, shattering many o f their intel lectual assumptions

and the foundat ions of their personal existence. Brice Parain, i n his La Mort de Jean Madec, se izes the contrast between the m o ral atmosphere

of Ia belle epoque, when things seemed fu l l of hope quand meme, and the

postwar sent iments of intel lectuals in France who were faced with an

"ob structed p ath . "

I grew up among the schoolmasters who organized the Republ ic after the Dreyfus Affair. They were good, honest , re l iable - but they demanded too m u ch of man and o f themselves . . . . Thus they believed very strongly in the reign of j ustice; their morality fell apart.


It required too much saintl iness . One wou ld h ave preferred the type of heroism which is more bri l l iant and which gets a long better with a certain insouciance which is necessary for l ife. Their pr inciple sa id : if you do go od , you have only done your duty, bu t i f you d o evi l , you must b e puni shed . Well, evil was done al l the same, and nobody was around to punish the wicked. The war pu t an end to their d ream. What in effect does someone owe when he has received noth ing and w i l l receive nothing? ' ' '

Dur ing the war Durkhe im ral l ied to the union sacrr!e and became

intensely involved in administrative work and propaganda. 1 12 The most

that can b e sa id abo u t his propagandistic p ieces i s that they are among

the most level-headed specimens of a rather paranoid genre. At t imes they offered vehic les fo r the expression of h is thought , e .g . , in his attempt,

in L'Allemagne au-dessus de tout - Germany above All - to portray the

German national character and define imper ia l i sm, with special reference

to the works of Heinr ich von Treitschke. 1 1 3 His confi dence in the just ice

of h i s own country's cause was neither d imin i shed by considerat ions of

long-term causation nor mi tigated by concern ab ou t the postwar settle

ment . The intensity (bu t no t the mere fact) of his propagandistic efforts, however, must be seen in the light of his anxiety over the fate of his only

son. He received definite news of his son's d eath at the front only after a

prolonged per iod of uncertainty. For the first t ime, Durkheim seemed to

face the temptation of madness . " I need not tel l you , " he wrote to G eorges

D avy, "o f the anguish in which I l ive . It is an obsess ion of every instant

which hurts me more than I supposed . " Durkheim was haunted "by the

image of this exhausted child, alone by the roadside i n t he mi ddle of t h e

night and t h e fog . . . . That image held me by the throat. " 1 14 When he

fi nally received definite word of his son's death, the man who had writ

ten movingly of the spir i tually restorative powers of ritual in moments of

cris is withdrew into a terrible si lence which prevented him from so much

as talking about h i s fee l ings wi th h i s closest friends : " D on't speak to me

about my son unt i l I t e l l you that i t 's possib l e . " 1 1 5 "Ab ove al l , don't speak

to me of h im . " 1 1 6 " Don't answer me. All that weakens and exhausts me . " 1 1 7

Iron se lf-d i sc ip l ine remained the dominant fo rce in Durkheim's l i fe, and

i t fi nally broke h im . In 1 9 1 7 he died o f what has been called a "b roken


heart . " But his own melanchol ic loss and h i s inab i l i ty to mourn might b e

understood less i n terms o f h i s personal ethos than as a test imony t o the

deficit of effective social processes, including rituals of mourning, in secular

society - a deficit his thinking tried in certain ways to address.

Notes


I . Georges Weill, Histoire du mouvement social en France, 1 852-1910 (Paris: Alcan, I 9 I I ) , pp. 469-483.

2 . "Emile Durkheim," Revue ftanr;aise de socioLo gie, I ( I 960) , 6 . 3 . Revue de metaphysique et de morale, XXIV ( I 9 I7 ) , 749. Compare the tes

timony of Rene Maublanc, "L'Oeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkheim:' Europe, XXII ( 1 930) , 298. See also Ivan Streski, Durkheim and the fezus of France (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, I 997) .

4 . "Emile Durkheim," p . 6 . 5 . Reported by Bougle, "L'Oeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkheim," Europe,

XXII ( 1 930) , 28 1 . 6 . Georges Davy, "Emile Durkheim: L'Homme," Revue de nu!taphysique et de

morale, XXVI ( I 9 I 9) , I 83 . 7. Davy, in commemorative issue, Annates de l 'Universite de Paris, No. I

(Jan .-March I 960) , I 9 . 8 . Harry Alpert, Emile Durkheim and His Sociology (first pub. I 939 ; New

York: Russell & Russell, I 9 6 1 ) , pp. I 6- I 7. 9 . Davy, "Emile Durkheim: L'Homme," Revue de metaphysique e t de morale,

XXVI ( I 9 I 9 ) , I 87. The disorder was diagnosed as erysipelas, an acute febrile disease associated with intense local inflammation of the skin and subcutaneous tissue. The agrt!gation is the competitive examination qualifYing successful candidates to hold teaching posts in French high schools (lyct!es) .

I O . Ibid., p. I 84. I I . Ibid. , p . I 87 . I 2. Ibid. , p . I 88 . I 3 . Quoted in Davy, "Emile Durkheim," Revue ftanr;aise de sociologie, I ( 1 960 ) ,

8 . I 4 . Preface to Le Systhne de Descartes (Paris: Alcan, I 9 I I ) , p . v. I 5 . Alpert, p . 3 2 . For an analysis o f the French lyc t!e and university system, see

Pierre Bourdieu and Jean-Claude Passeron, The Inheritors: French Students and Their Relation to Culture, trans. Richard Nice (first pub . I 964; Chicago: University of Chicago Press, I 979 ) . See also Fritz Ringer, Fields of Knowledge: French Academic Culture in Comparative Perspective (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, I 992) .

I 6 . Davy, AnnaLes de f'Universite de. Paris, No. I (Jan.-March I 960) , I 9 . I 7 . "La Philosophie dans les universites allemandes ," Revue internationale de

f'enseignement, XIII ( 1 887) , 3 I 3-338 , 423-440; and "La Science positive


de la morale en Al lemagne," Revue philosophique, XXIV ( 1 887 ) , 33 -58 , 1 1 3 - 1 42, 275-284.

1 8 . Rene Lacroze , Annales de l'Universite de Paris, No. 1 (Jan.-March 1 960) , 26 .

19 . Annales de l'Universite de Paris, No. 1 (Jan.-March 1 960 ) , 1 9 . 20 . Marcel Mauss, "In Memoriam: I;Oeuvre inedite de Durkheim et de ses

collaborateurs ," Annie sociologique, n.s . , I ( 1 923 ) , 9 . 2 1 . Quoted by Davy, Annales de l'Universitt!de Paris, No. 1 (Jan.-March 1 960) ,

1 9 . 22 . In trod., Emile Durkheim, L'Evolution Pedagogique en France (Paris: Alcan,

1 93 8 ) , p. 1 . 23 . "Emile Durkheim: I:Homme," Revue de meta physique et de morale, XXVI

( 1 9 1 9 ) , 1 90. 24. Roger Lacombe, La Methode sociologique de Durkheim: Etude critique

(Paris: Alcan, 1 926 ) , p . 1 . The continuing presence of Durkheim i n French sociology was indicated b y the fact that the immediate string of successors to his chair in sociology at the Sorbonne were his disciples P. Fauconnet, M. Halbwachs, and G. Davy. After World War I I , however, the infl uence of Durkheim in French sociology waned. The holders of the two chairs in sociology at the Sorbonne, Raymond Aron and, to a lesser extent perhaps, Georges Gurvitch, were more often than not hostile critics of Durkheim. The centenary of Durkheim's birth i n 1 958 passed almost unnoticed in France, partly because of the Algerian crisis that brought de Gaulle to power. The celebration at the Sorbo nne ofDurkheim's centenary took place almost two years later, long after similar ceremonies in other countries. In certain ways , however, a later generation of social thinkers in France attempted to revive interest in Durkheim with an understanding guided by the sympathetic desire to discover and develop what is still alive in his thought. This attitude may be found, for example, in the perceptive introduction by Victor Karady to an edition of the very Durkheimian works of the roung Mauss - a publication which is itself a phenomenon of importance (Marcel Mauss, Oeuvres, 1: Les Fonctions du sacre [Paris: Les Editions du ;vlinuit , 1 968] ) . The neglect of Durkheim after the war was due in part to the impact of structuralism on anthropology, general methodology, philosophy, and even ;vlarxism (as well as to the vogue of phenomenology and existential ism). Re-evaluation ofDurkheim might make it possible to retain the elements of structuralism that clearly constitute a genuine theoretical advance over Durkheim while phasing out those of its inc linations which induce sterile formalism and damaging obscurantism. It might also provide one basis for a critical analysis of the relations between


structuralism and varieties of poststructuralism. Durkheim's legacy is of course quite important for Pierre Bourdieu. Its significance for Georges Bataille has in general not been refl ected in the work of poststructuralists and would merit extended treatment. One might argue that Bataille overinterpreted, or even misinterpreted, Mauss o n the gift in terms of potlatch as depense (excessive, gratuitous expenditure) and went on to revise if not reverse Durkheim's emphasis on the role of normative limits by construing the latter predominantly as invitations to more or less radical transgression and ecstatic excess. In Bataille radical transgression becomes the avenue to at least momentary transcendence in the quest for a secular sacred. Bataille's orientation has left its mark on poststructuralism.

25 . One even finds an echo of the republican attack on the Second Empire, which frequently lent itself to ideological uses as a basis for a legitimating myth of the Republic and its original purity, in Leon Blum's comment in A L'Echefte humaine (Paris: Gallimard, 1 945 ) : "The Empire had been guilty, but the Republ i c was only unfortunate [malheureuse]" (p. 4 1 ) .

26 . Emile Durkheim, Socialism, trans. Charlotte Sattler, ed . with Introd. by Alvin Gouldner (New York: Collier Books, 1 962) , p. 1 60 .

27 . David Thomson, Democracy in France (London, New York, Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1 958 ) , p. 27. See also Yves Deloge, Ecofeet citoyennete: f'individualisme republicain de jules Ferry a Vichy: controverses (Paris: Presses de Ia Fondation nationale des sciences politiques, 1 994) ; Sanford Elwitt, The Making of the Third Republic: Class and Politics in France 1868-1 884 (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1 975) and The Third Republic Defended: Bourgeois R�{Orm in France (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1 986) ; William Logue, From Philosophy to Sociology: The Evolution of French Liberalism 1870- 1914 (Dekalb: Northern Il l inois University Press, 1 983) and Charles Renouvier: Philosopher of Liberty (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1 99 3 ); Laurent Muccielli, L a Decouverte d u social: naissance d e Ia sociologie e n France 1870- 1914 (Paris: Editions de la decouverte, 1 998) ; Philip Nord, The Republican Moment: Struf!j!,les for Democracy in Nineteenth-Century France (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1 995 ) ; and Phyllis Stock-Morton, Moral Educ ation for a Secular Society: The Development of morale la'igue in Nineteenth-Century France (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1 98 8 ) .

2 8 . Cf Alpert, pp . 2 8 fl: 29 . "Cours de science sociale," Revue internationale d e l'enseignement, XIV

( 1 88 8 ) , 48-49. 30 . For a concise account of the social bases of t he Third Republ ic , s ee Thom

son, chap. i i . See also the compact and intricate essay of Stanley Hoffmann,


"Paradoxes of the hench Political Comm unity," in Stanley Hoffmann et a!., In Search of France (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1 96 3 ) . See also Susanna Barrows, Distorting Mirrors: Visions of the Crowd i n Late Nineteenth-Century France (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1 9 8 1 ) ; Jean Bauberot, La Morale lai'que contre l 'ordre moral (Paris: Editions du seuil , 1 997) ; Christophe Clurle, La Crise l itteraire a l epoque du naturalisme: roman, theatre et politique (Paris: Presses de ) 'Ecole Normale Superieure, 1 979) , Les Elites de Ia Republique (Paris: Fayard , 1 987 ) , and Naissance des 'intellectueLr' 1 880-1900 (Paris : Editions de minuit, 1 990) ; Bernard Lacroix, Durkheim et le pol itique (Montreal: Presses de Ia Fondation Nationale des Sciences Politiques, 1 982 ) ; Christophe Prochasson, Les annees electriques, 1880-1 9 1 0 (Paris: Editions de Ia decouverte, 1 9 9 1 ) , Les intellectueLr, le socialisme et fa guerre, 1900-1938 (Paris: Editions du seuil , 1 993 ) , and Paris 1900. Essai d 'histoire culturelle (Paris: Caiman-Levy, 1 999) ; Sylvia Schafer, Children in Moral Danger and the Problem ofGoZJernment in Third Republ ic France (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1 997) ; and Judith Wishnia, The Proletarianizing of the Fonctionnaires: CiZJil SerZJice W�rkers and the Labor Mowment under the Third Republic (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1 990 ).

3 1 . See his Economic Deuelopment of France and Germany (4th ed. ; Cambridge: University Press, 1 936 ) , especially pp. 232ff. For a thought-provoking account of the rapid and disrup tive transformation of French society and culture in the crucial period preceding 1 96 8 , see Kristin Ross, Fast Cars, Clean Bodies: Decolonization and the Reordering of French Culture (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1 995 )

32 . Jesse Pitts, "Continuity and Change i n Bourgeois France," i n Stanley Hoffmann et al., In Search of France. On the way in which social attitudes of businessmen affected economic activi ty, see David Landes, "French Entrepreneurship and Industrial Growth in the Nineteenth Century," journal of Economic History, IX ( 1 949) , 45-6 1 , and " Business and the Business Man: A Social and Cultural Analys is , " in E. M. Earle, ed., Modern France (Princeton : Princeton University Press, 1 95 1 ) .

3 3 . Louis Chevalier, i n his Classes faborieuses et classes dangereuses (Paris: P ion, 1 958 ) , has observed that from 1 848 to 1 870 small industry not only predominated but was on the in crease in Paris (pp. 76ff. ) . ror Chevalier, the prevalence of crime in the Paris region during the nineteenth century was due to the pathological state caused primarily by demographic change. The rapid inf ux of people into Paris caused a crisis situation which resulted not only in high crime rates but in class conf ict of extreme virulence. Citing an interesting statistic on the issue of class consciousness versus


professional consciousness, Chevalier noted that, at the end of the Empire and the beginning of the Third Republic, the ind ication of occupation on electoral l ists tended increasingly to change from a precise denotation of metier to a designation of social class a s "worker" (p . 1 73 ) .

34 . "History and Science in Anthropology," American Anthropologist, XXI I ( 1 93 5 ) , 539-569.

35 . Theories o_fPrimitive Religion (London: Oxford University Press , 1 965) , p. 67. See also p . 6 , where Evans-Pritchard observes in the manner of LeviStrauss: " I t is a remarkable fact that none of the anthropologists whose theories about primitive religion have been most influential had ever been near a pr imitive people. It i s as though a chemist had never thought i t necessary to enter a laboratory."

36 . Cf. Jean Duvignaud, Durkheim (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 965 ) , p. 1 3 .

37 . Quoted in John Eros, "The Positivist Generation of French Intellectuals , " Sociological Review, I I I ( 1 95 5 ) , 265 .

38 . Les Regles de fa methode sociologique ( 1 5th ed . ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 963) , p. x i i .

39 . Davy, "Emile Durkheim: "CHomme," Revue de mitaphysique et de morale, XXVI ( 1 9 1 9) , 1 94 .

40 . Ibid., p . 1 95 . 4 1 . " In Memoriam," p. 2 . 42. See Adrien Dansette, Religious History of Modern Fr ance (New York: Herder

& Herder, 1 9 6 1 ) , I I , 54ff. See also Georges Duveau, Les Instituteurs (Par is : Editions d u Seuil, 1 957) , pp. 1 22ff.

43 . Duveau, p . 1 22 . 44. John Scott, Republican Ideas and the Liber af71· adition in France, 1870- 1914

(New York: Columbia University Pres s ) , pp. 1 8 5 - 1 86 . 4 5 . Duveau , pp: 1 1 7-1 1 8 . 46 . Felix Pecaut, "Emile Durkheim," Revue pedagogique, n. s . , LXXII ( 1 9 1 8) ,

1 4- 1 5 . 47. Jean Izoulet; quoted in G!lestin Bougie, Bilan de la sociofogie franraise con

tempor aine (Paris: Alcan, 1 93 5 ) , p. 1 68n . 48 . Albert Thibaudet, {, a Repubfique des professeurs (Paris: Grasser, 1 927) , pp .

222-223. 49. Maublanc, 'TOeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkheim," p. 303 . 50 . On Liard, s ee Ernes t Lavisse, "Louis Liard , " Revue intenationafe d e

f'enseignement, LXXII ( 1 9 1 8) , 8 1 -89 ; s ee also G. Ribiere, Revue des cours et des conftrences, XII ( 1 904) , 1 - 1 3 , 49-65 , 97- 1 1 3 , 1 45- 1 6 1 , 1 93-200, which includes an extensive analysis of Liard's published works. On Lapie,


see the statements by Celestin Bougie, Felix Pecaut, Andre Fontaine, and Xavier Leon in the Revue pedagogique, XC-XCI ( 1 927) , 1 1 5- 1 66 .

5 1 . Many people realized the extent to which the mystique of the instituteur was the symbolic recompense for the fact that h e was miserably underpaid. In a circular to instituteurs i n 1 8 3 3 , Fran�ois Guizot remarked: "The resources which the central power has at its disposal wi l l never succeed in making the simple profession of instituteur as attractive as i t is usefu l . Society is unable to give back to those who consecrate themselves to i t all that they have done for it. It is necessary that a profound sentiment support and animate the instituteur, that the austere p leasure of having served men and contributed to the publ ic good become the worthy salary which his conscience a lone gives h im . It is his glory to exhaust himself in sacrifices and expect his recompense from God alone" (quoted i n Duveau, p. 54) .

52 . Quoted i n Ribiere, pp. 49, 65 . 53 . Lavisse, pp . 86-87. 54 . Lavisse, p. 8 8 . 55 . Quoted i n Ribiere, p . 9 . 56 . Lavisse, pp . 82-83 . 57 . Lavisse, pp . 98-99. 58. Fontaine, Revue pedagogique, XC-XCI ( 1 927) , 1 6 5 . 59. Pecaut, ibid., pp. 1 22 - 1 2 3 . 60 . Leon, ibid., p. 1 60 . 6 1 . Fontaine, ibid. , p. 1 66 . 62 . Andre Canivez, }tdes Lagneau: Essai sur Ia condition du professeur de philoso

phie jusq ua Ia fin du )JXe siecle, Association des Publications de l a Faculte de Strasbourg, 1 965, p. 275 . See also Claude Digeon, La Crise allemande de la pemee ji-mz�aise, 18 70- 1914 (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 959) .

63 . Speech of Paul Armand Challemei-Lacour before the Senate, Dec. 1 9 , 1 88 8 ; as quoted in Maurice Barres, Les Deracines, I (first pub. 1 8 97 ; Paris: Pion, 1 959 ) , 64.

64. Repotted by Bougie, "L'Oeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkhe im , " p. 283 .

65 . Emi l e Durkheim, L'taucatimz morale (first pub. 1 925 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 963 ) , pp. 3, 9, 7-8 .

66 . See Richard D. Sonn, Anarchism and Cultural Politics in Fin-de-siecle France (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1 989) and Peter Starr, Logics ofF ailed Revolt: French Theory After May '68 (Stanford, Calif. : Stanford University Press, 1 995 ) .

67. Emi le Durkheim, Education et sociologie (Paris: Alcan, 1 922) , p. 62.

68 . Canivez, p. 275 . 69 . L'Educatimz morale, pp . 72-73.


70. Armand Cuvillier, Ou va la sociologie .fi'mz�·aise? (Paris: Librairie Marcel Riviere, 1 9 53 ) , p. 42.

7 1 . Les Etapes de Ia pensee sociologique (Paris : Gallimard, 1 987) , pp . 394ff. 72. Letter of Jan. 1 , 1 87 8 , "Lettres , " Bibliotheque Nationale. 73. For a brief analysis ofTarde's thought, which attempts to show how Tarde

was much more than the theorist of the "laws of imitation," see the introduction by Terry N . Clark to Gabriel Tarde mz C ommwzication and Social Influence (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1 969) .

74 . Introduction a Ia psychologie collective (first pub. 1 927; Paris: Armand Colin, 1 964), p. 37. This neglected work contains an excellent comparison of Comte, Durkheim, and Tarde.

75. Thomson, pp. 27-28. See also the complementary, farther ranging ( if less historically tight) analysis by Rene Remond of changing manifestations of traditionalist, conservative-liberal, and nationalist tendencies, La Droite en France (Paris: Aubier, 1 963) .

76. Eugen Weber, The Nationalist Revival in France, 1905-1914 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1 959) . See also Robert So ucy, Fascism in France: The Case ofM aurice Barres (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1 972), French Fascism: The First Wcwe, 1 924- 1933 (New Haven, Conn. : Yale University Press, 1 986) , and French Fascism: The Second Wflve (New Haven, Conn. : Yale University Press, 1 995 ) ; and Zeev Sternhell, Neither Right nor L�(t: Fascist Ideology in France (Berkeley: University of Californ ia Press, 1 986) .

77. For the argument relating Durkheim to conservatives and traditionalists , see Robert Nisbet, "Conservatism and Sociology, " American journal ofSociology, LVII I ( 1 952 ) , 1 65 - 1 7 5 . The theme of Durkheim's conservatism was muted in Nisbet's long essay in Emile Durkheim (Englewood Cliffs , N.J . : Prentice-Hall , 1 965) and his Sociological T mditimz (New York: Basic Books, 1 966) . An important idea adumbrated in "Conservatism and Sociology" is not further developed in Nisbet's two later works . (It is discussed in Nisbet's foreword to 7!Je Works ofjoseph de M aistre, trans. and in trod. by Jack Lively [fi rst pub. 1 965 ; N . Y. : Schoken Books, 1 97 1 ] , pp. xi-xviii .) This is the idea of philosophical conservatism. Nisbet argues that a thinker may have conservative values although he does not defend the status quo or react ion. It is in this philosophical sense, I think, that Durkheim was conservative. For the assertion of Durkheim's relation to " in tegral nationalism," see M. M. Mitchell, "Emile Durkheim and the Philosophy of Nationalism," Political Science Quarterly, XLVI ( 1 9 3 1 ) , 87- 1 06 . See also George Catlin's


introduction to Durkheim's Rules ofSociological Method (first pub. 1 93 8 ; N .Y. : Free Press, 1 964) . For the charge o f irrationalism and protofas cism, see William M . McGovern, From Luther to Hitler (London: George G . Harrap, 1 946 ) , chap. ix.

78. Thomson, p. 1 43 . 79. Elements d'une doctrine radicale (Paris: Gallimard, 1 925 ) , p . 25 . 80 . Thomson, p . 1 4 1 . 8 1 . Thibaudet, p . 1 96 . 82 . Alfred Fouillee, "La Reforme de l'enseignement philosophique e t moral

en France , " Revue des deux mondes, XXXIX ( 1 880 ) , 333-369 . 83 . "Associations de culte," Libres Entretiens, 1 s t series (Paris: Bureau des "Lib res

Entretien s") , p . 369 . 84 . Preface to 2d ed . , De La Division du travail social (7th ed . ; Paris: Presses

Universitaires de France, 1 960) , p. xxxii. 8 5 . L'Esprit de Ia nouvelle Sorbomze (Paris: Mercure de France, 1 9 1 1 ) . S ee also

the same authors' less interesting Les ]eunes Gens d'aujourd'hui (Paris: Pion, 1 9 1 3 ) .

8 6 . L'Esprit de Ia nouvelle Sorbomze, p p . 9 9 , 1 0 1 - 1 02 , 1 1 0 . 87 . Paris: Maspero. 8 8 . Ibid. , pp. 1 09- 1 1 0. 89 . Revue philosophique, LXIV ( 1 89 ) , 647 . On this problem, see Armand

Cuvillier, "Durkheim et Marx," Cahiers internationaux de sociologie, I V ( 1 948) , 75-97.

90. Introd., 1 s t ed., Emile Durkheim, Le Social isme, in Socialism, pp. 34-3 5 .

9 1 . M . Holleaux, quoted i n Davy, "Emile Durkheim: I.:Homme," Revue de meta physique et de morale, XXVI ( 1 9 1 9) , 1 89 .

92. Marxism: An Historical & Critical Study (New York: Praeger, 1 96 1 ) , p. 2 28 .

93 . Mauss, lntrod. , Socialism, p. 34 . 94. Lichtheim, pp. 228-229 . 95 . Mauss, lntrod. , SociaHsm, p. 3 5 . 96 . 'TEl i te et Ia democratie," Revue bleue XXI I I ( 1 904), pp . 705-06. 97 . Le Suicide (Paris: Presses Universitaires de france, 1 960) , p. 45 1 . 98 . Celestin Bougie, L e Solidarisme (Paris: Marcel G i ard, 1 924), p. 7 . See also his

earlier study L'Evolution d u Solidarisme (Paris: Bureau de La Revue politique et parlementaire, 1 903 ) , an extract from Revue politique et parlementaire, March 1 903 . J . E. S . Hayward, in "Solidarity: The Social History of an Idea i n Nineteenth Century France , " International Review ofSocial History, n . s . , I V ( 1 95 1 ) , 2 6 1 -284 , contends that solidarity a s an idee:force was associated

Chapter 2 Durkheim 's Milieu 7.3

in the ni neteenth century with leftist and reformist movements and that in the Third Republic i t increasingly became an ideology j u stifying the status quo. He places Durkheim in the latter context without attempting to j ustify this classification. The problem concerning Durkheim is touched upon briefly in Melvin Richter's excellent article, "Durkheim's Politics and Political Theory, " in Kurt H. Wolff, ed . , Essays on Sociology and Philosophy (New York: Harper & Row, 1 9 64), p. 1 8 8 . On the role of the concept of solidarity in early n ineteenth-century France, including its radical use by workers, see William Sewell, Work and Revolution in France: The Language of Labor fi"om the Old Regime to 1848 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1 980 ). Sewell argues that a democratic corporatism with socialist components was dominant in laboring classes during the period treated in his study.

99 . Richter, op. cit. 1 0 0 . Alpert, p. 1 78 . 1 0 1 . Division du travail social, p. xxxvi i . 1 02 . "L'Evolution du Solidarisme, " p . 28 . For the explicit reference to Durkheim,

see p . 3 . 1 0 3 . Ibid. , p . 7 . The quotation i s repeated i n Bougie's Le Solidarisme, p . 1 2 . 1 04. Paris: Librairie Artheme Fayard, 1 946 (first pub. 1 9 1 4 ) , p . 207. 1 0 5 . See Terry N . Clark, "Emile Durkheim and the Institutionalization o f Soci

ology," Archives europeemzes de sociologie, IX ( 1 968 ) , 63-64. See also Eugen Weber, The Nationalist Revival in France; Charles Andler, La Vie de Lucien Herr (Paris : Rieder, 1 932 ) , pp . 1 1 2- 1 50 ; Romain Rolland, Peguy (Paris: Albin Michel, 1 944), I , 306ff. ; and Daniel Halevy, Peguy et "Les Cahiers de la quinzaine" (Paris: Bernard Grasser, 1 94 1 ) , pp . 68-80

1 06. "Durkheim's Politics and Political Theory," p . 1 7 5 . 1 07. "L'lndividualisme et les intellectuels , " Revue bleue, 4th series, X ( 1 898) ,

1 0 , 1 2 . 1 08 . Ib id . , pp . 7-8 , 1 3 . 1 0 9 . XIV ( 1 907) , 6 1 3 . 1 1 0 . Quoted in Romain Ro lland, Peguy, p . 8 5 . 1 1 1 . Paris: Grasser, 1 945 , p . 7 1 . For the French in tellectual scene between the

two wars and after, see H . Stuart H ughes, The Obstructed Path (New York: Harper & Row, 1 968) .

1 1 2 . A list of Durkheim's commi ttees in Davy, "Emile Durkheim: CHomme," Revue de meta physique et de morale, XXVI ( 1 9 1 9) , 1 93 , includes : Conseil de l 'Universite, Comite des travaux historiques et scientifiques, Comite consultatif de l' enseignement superieur, Commission des etrangers au ministere de l ' I nterieur, Comite fran<_;:ais d ' information et d'action aupres


des j uifs en pays neutre, Fraternite fran co-americaine, Pupilles de ! 'Ecole publique, Comite de publication des Etudes et documents sur la guerre, Comite de publication des lettres a tOllS les Franc;:ais, Ligue republicaine d'Alsace-Lorraine, Societe des amis de Jaures, and Pour le rapprochement universitaire.

1 1 3 . In L>lilemagne au-dessus de tout (Paris : Col in , 1 9 1 5 ) , Durkheim made an interesting application of his concept of anomie to the problem of imperialism. For Durkheim, imperialism was a form of anomie fo stered by dominant institutions like the state and mil i tary, and a thinker like Treitschke attempted to legitimate institutionalized anomie in the form of a national wil l to power. The limitless expansion of the power of a state at the expense of o ther states was for Durkheim "a morbid hypotrophy of the will, a kind of will mania" (p. 44) . Durkheim realized that anomie might be furthered by dominant institutions, insti lled into the personalities of citizens through education, and legitimated by intellectuals. Even in his later work, however, he only at times extended his insights to broach an analysis and critique of colonialism. Colonialism is not, for example, an issue in his Elememary Forms oft he Religious L�fe or in his reflections about the relation of sociology to anthropology.

1 1 4 . Davy, A mzales de l 'Universite de Paris, 2 1 . I would further note that i t i s i nteresting to compare Durkheim's conception of Germany's primary responsibility in causing the war with the similar thesis later made famous by the German historian Fritz Fischer.

1 1 5 . Ibid. 1 1 6 . Davy, "Emile Durkheim," Revue fimzf·aise de sociologie, I ( 1 960) , 1 2 . 1 1 7 . Quoted by Raymond Lenoir, "L'Oeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkheim,"

Europe, XXII ( 1 930) , 295 .

3

The Division of Social Labor

We believe that our research would not merit an hour's trou ble �fit had only a

speculative interest. Jfwe separate with care theoretical from p ractical problems,

it is not in order to neglect the latter; it is, on the contrary, to put ourselves in

a better position to resolve them.

- The Division of Labor in Society

Quo vadis?

The Division of Labor in Society has acquired in modern social thought

the dub ious status of a sacred text that is almost a dead letter. l t i s a work

that is referred to with the pro forma awe that scholars reserve for recognized

classics, b u t to which little real reference is made in the analysis of problems.

Indeed D urkheim h imself, as well as h i s disc iples , never returned to the

massive and cumbrous concepts of organic and mechanical so l idar i ty that

were "absolutely fundamental i n h i s fir s t ma jor work . " ' Talcott Parsons,

despite his bel ief that the work has never received the recognit ion i t mer

its , fel t ob liged to ob serve, " i t is , however, a book which i s far from being

complete or clear in many of the most essential po ints , and is dist inctly

diffi cult to interpret . " 2

I t i s diffi cult to dec ide whether The Division of Labor mer i ts attention

in itself or whether its value derives pr imar i ly from its place in the general

development of the thought of Durkheim and his school . And it i s d iffi

cult to unders tand why certain co m m en tators , even Parsons h imse l f, were

tempted to construe th is work as indicat ive of a definit ively formulated

"first posit ion" in Du rkheim's thought which was later sub jected to dras

tic revi s ion . The work o ught rather to b e seen as an ini t ia l , tentative, and

somewhat ambivalent exploratory essay putt ing forth certa in problems


and themes which i n the course o f Durkheim's intel lectual l i fe were to be

- with varying degrees of adequacy - modified, refi ned, and developed.

Durkheim once compared the experience of people in archaic societ ies to

a "pr imitive nebula" whose laws were in all essentials to be conserved in

modern societies.3 In some measure, this metaphor applies to the relation of The Division of Labor to Durkheim's own later works.

Durkheim, as we know from M arcel Mauss, had at first conceived h is

thesis in terms o f individual ism and social ism - a theme which recalled

the 1 8 3 3 essay De L7ndividualisme et du socialisme of the Saint-Simonian

Pierre Leroux. This popular work had been infl uentia l in bringing the

term "socialism" into general currency.4 But the theme of The Division of

Labor was later recast i n the more sc ient ifica l ly aseptic framework of t h e

relation be tween t h e individual and society. I n a turn o f phrase reminiscent

of Rousseau in the Social Contract, D urkheim posed the question: " How

is it poss ible for the individual in becoming more autonomous to depend

more closely upon society? How can he be at the same t ime more personal

and more sol idarist ic?"5 S ome of the mo re ideological reasons why Durkh eim recast the t h e m e

of h i s first major work were related t o t h e obvious hesitancies i n its l ine

of argument and the t imid i ty in i t s refl ections o n reform. Durkheim

undoub tedly remembered the h arassment of Alfred Espinas and the

furor caused by his thesis , "Animal Societ ies ." Paul Janet , a member of

Durkheim's own thesis j ury, had tried to convince Espinas to modify a pas

sage on Auguste Comte in his introduction and, because Espinas refused, had had the entire introduct ion suppressed before publ icat ion . 6 During

the defense of Durkheim's thes is , Janet los t h i s composure , rapped on the

table , invoked G od, and warned Durkheim that sociology led to madness . 7

Emile Boutroux, to whom the thesis was dedicated, could not accept this

ambivalent honor "without making a grimace. "8 I t was signifi cant that

the title of Durkhei m's supplementary Lat in thesis on �1ontesquieu re

ferred to h i s predecessor's contr ibut ions to po l i t i ca l sc ience rather than to

sociology. Durkheim's hesitancy to use the new word "sociol ogy" was one

smal l indicat ion that sociology was suspect , not because of its rel iance on

orthodox conservative ideas to bolster the status quo , but because i t was

unsett l ing, at times for reasons contemporaries were unable to formulate

clearly or accurately. Despite Durkheim's attempt, in his early work, to allay

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial l-abor 77

susp ic ions on th i s score , h i s soc io logica l a p p roach t o problems involved a

new way of seeing things and, consequently, a reordering of modes of in

terpretat ion. Pol i t ical ly and soc ially, i t seemed to imply, however ob l ique ly

a t t imes , the necess i ty of bas i c s t ruc tura l reform for s tab le order to be pos

s ib le in modern soc ie t i e s . Mauss repor ted that D u rkheim "clashed wi th

touchy moral ists and c las s i c or Chr i s t i an economists fo r their obj ect ions

to collectivism, which they s t ruck at through his Division of Labor. Due

to confl icts of th i s k ind , he was excluded from professorships in Paris . " 9

Bordeaux itself i n D u rkheim's t ime b e came a short- l ived i n tel lectual center

because of the o p pos i t ion of establ i shed powers in the cap i ta l to newer

currents in social thought .

Indeed, the fact that The Division of Labor cou ld have caused such a s t i r

seems surprising in retrospect, s ince i t is ambiguous both in its theories and

in its p olitical implications. Ostensibly, the primary focus of The Division of Laborwas the structure of modern society, the process of modernization, which

had brought that structure into existence, and the relation of structure and

process to moral so l idarity among people in society. In good Gall ic fashion,

the book was divided into three pr incipal parts: ( 1 ) an analysis of organic and

mechanical sol idar i ty and the ir relations to individuals and groups in society;

(2) an investigation of the process of change which purportedly had led from

the mechanical solidarity of pr imitive and traditional societies to the organic

solidarity of modern societies b ased on The Division of Labor; (3) a study of

pathological forms in which The Division of Labor did not function to create

sol idarity in society.

Thus , Durkheim approached modernity and the industrial revolution

through the s t udy of The Division of Labor. I n this way, he met the clas

sical economists on the ir own native grounds . But these grounds were to

be explored and their sociological features perceived in such a way that

the resulting human geography would no longer be famil iar to the heirs

of Adam Smith. The very t it le of the work, De La Division du travail social - which has been mistranslated The Division of Labor in Society i nstead of

"The Divis ion of Socia l Labor" - was itself highly significant. The division

of social labor was for Durkheim identical in i ts b r o adest sense with social

d ifferentiat ion, and in i ts n arrower and more specifical ly modern sense with

advanced occupat ional special izat ion. But in Durkheim the focus shifted

away from the economic role of the divi s ion of labor, e .g . , in increasing


productivity. It fel l instead on the function o f the division of!abor i n relating

people to one another in society. From economic product to social process

and the qual ity of human l i fe - this for Durkheim was the sociological

perspective on the divis ion of labor .

In fact , Durkheim's first maj o r work seemed to show a lack of concern

with economic problems. Durkheim's methodological goal was to fu rther the

idea of a unified social sc ience by stressing the extra-economic dimensions

of economic activity. His increasingly apparent ideological p urpose was to

subordinate the economy and mater ial ist ic motives to the moral and cultural

needs of people in soc iety. B u t h i s mode of affirmat ion often approached

discipl inary imper ialism and disdain for the dismal science with i ts specific

fo rm of abstract ion. Indeed, i n Durkh eim's conception of economics , t h e

mind-body dual ism functioned to relegate economic activity t o the sphere

of the l iteral ly material and the individual . By the end of h i s ! if e, Durkheim

considered economic activity to be the p rofane par excellence. His entire

conception of the problem not only fai led to offer insight into the nature

of economic inst i tut ions ; i t a lso d id l i t t le to i l luminate the moral and rel i

gious aspects of modern economic act ivity t h a t Max Weber treated in The

Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.

Durkheim's idea of economics was one case in wh ich the normative and

critical aspects of his thought submerged the analytic. For he saw the unlimited

desire for commodities and unregulated economic activity (the "free" m arket)

as prominent instances of modern social pathology. This po int of view would

become manifest in Suicide. But the distinction between social "normali ty"

and "pathology" was bas ic to the general argument of T he Division of Labor. In that book, Du rkheim introdu ced his basic definition of morality and h i s

idea of the int imate association b etween soc ia l normality and the prevalence

of solidarity in soci ety. "We can say in a general manner," he observed, "that

the characteristic of moral rules is to enunciate the fundamental conditions of

social solidarity. " L 0 The correlation of social normali ty, sol idarity, and morality

revealed the foundation o f D urkhe im's thought in organizing principles that

were methodological and normative at one and the same t ime.

In h i s concepts of mechanical and organic so l idar i ty, Durkheim fo

cused upon "normal" states of society. A consideration of "pathological"

phenomena in modern society was restricted to a concluding section which

was disproport ionately smal l i n compar i son with the gravity of the prob-


lems treated; i t was also rather dissociated fro m , o r at least inadequately

related to, the preceding discussion of normal states of society. The result

was that a t t imes social "normality" was i tself normalized, and the dist inc

t ion between the normatively desirable or legit imate state of society and

the empir i cally prevalent or dom inant - even moreso the evolutionary

expectat ion - was effaced.

A ma jor ambiguity in Durkheim's argument stemmed from the lack

of clarity about the concepts of the mechanical and the organic. In terms

of his master metaphor of the tree of sociocultural l i fe , it was unclear ( 1 )

where given cases, and especially entire societ ies , fi t into his conception of

the mechanical and the organic, and ( 2 ) whether and how these concepts

appl ied to the common , transhistorica l trunk ofsociety and to its typologica l

branches . Furthermore, Durkheim rel ied on the concepts of the mechanical

and the organic to correlate a series of class ifications whose factual bas is was

far fro m certain and whose fru i tfulness i n research was far fro m apparent .

The confl uence of these problematic features made The Division of Labor not

only the most inertly abstract ofD urkheim's works b u t the least convincing

in i t s ab i l i ty to h andle theoret i cal abstractions with logical in tell igibil ity and

informative relevance.

Mechanical and Organic Solidarity

The dist inct ion between mechanical and organic so l idar i ty was s imi lar

to numerous other polar opposit ions i n the work o f early soc ia l thinkers .

I t was analogou s , for example , to Charles Horton Cooley's d i s t inct ion

b e tween pr imary and secondary groups . And i t had areas of overlapping

wi th Nietzsche's concepts of the Dionysian and the Apollonian and with

Weber's oppos i t ion be tween char isma and b ureaucrat izat ion. D urkheim

himse lf, as we shal l see , t r ied to re late h i s concepts to Ferdinand Ti:innies '

i n fl uent ia l contrast between Gemeinschaft ( c o m m u nity) and Gesellschaft (society) . To some extent, the common root of a l l these oppos i t ions was the

dist inct ion b etween communitas and differentiated structure . ( D urkheim

himself did not use the term comnumitas. But I th ink i t helps to formulate

the concept he tried to convey in a term like "mechanical so l idar i ty." In

contrast w i t h differentiated structure , communitas constitutes the (problem-


at ic ) e lement of communal identity in experience. The term communitas has been employed b y Victor Turner i n The Ritual Process, discussed later

in this chapter . )

But the terms "mechanical" and "organic" b etrayed a pecul iar dual i ty in

Durkheim's thought. On the one hand, they seemed indi cative of the most pretentious sort of positivism. The analogies evoked were physical and bi

ological . On the other hand, the terms were saturated with symbolic value.

Romantic thought had made the organic the synonym of the authentic and

living, and the mechanical identical with the false and dead.

This dual ity in connotation belied the fact that Durkheim did not know

precisely where he was going in his first major work. Like much modern writ ing, The Division of Labor was a dissertation in search of a thes is . In t he

most general sense, the term "mechanical" referred to solidarity through "si

mil i tudes" (or what might be termed "communal identity" ) ; "organic" referred

to solidarity through differentiation with reciprocity and cooperation among

differentiated but complementary parts. In referring to the genesis of social

solidarity, Durkheim related his socio logical principles to the notion in common-sense psychology that people love both what resembles them and what

is di fferent from yet complements them.

To refer to community as mechanical was paradoxical. In the works of other

social thinkers, the concept of the organic was intimately bound up with the

notion of community. In The Division of Labor, the fact that overshadowed

the concept of organic solidarity was the absence of signifi cant community in modern life. Durkheim recognized this fact bu t seemed bewildered about how

to come to terms with i t . The concluding section, on "pathological" forms of

The Division ofLabor, showed that Du rkheim was not offering the concept of

organic solidarity as a s imple legitimation of the modern status quo. But does

The Division of Labor indi cate he be l ieved that solidarity in modern society i s

even theoretically possible without significant community? The fact that he

failed to treat the relation of bureaucracy to organic solidarity does not help

to clarify h i s intent . Nor does t he absence of a fu ll discussion of the relations

between modern, universalistic humanism and the values adapted to more

concrete, face- to-face communi ties.

At times Durkheim seemed to sense the need for a measure of both or

ganic and mechanical solidarity in any "normal" (or normatively desirable)

society: "It is not necessary to choose once and for all between [organic and

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial l-abor 8 I

mechanical solidarity] and condemn one i n the name o f the other; what i s

necessary i s t o give each at each moment o fhistory the place which i s proper

to i t . " 1 1 But it was only in writings of a later date that Durkheim became more

explicit about the possible role of community in modern society. His advocacy

of professional groups that would allow for some measure of decentralization had as one of its most essential features the desire to remedy the lack of com

munity in modern life. And his last major work, The Elementary Forms of the

Religious Life, was postulated on the conviction that a significant measure of

continuity was necessary between the b ases of legi timate order in "primitive"

and modern societies .

Although Durkhe im's ideas about modern society became clearer in t ime,

one feature of The Division of Labor which cont inued to be characterist ic of

his thought was the tendency to see "primit ive" societies primari ly, i f not ex

clusively, in terms of social similitudes, homogeneity, and communal identity,

to the exclusion of differentiation among roles i n the group or among groups

in the larger social context. This exaggerated idea of "primitive" conformism

became the b asis for the chapter in The Rules of Sociological Method on the class ificat ion of social types (chapter iv) . I t was in fact one bas ic reason why

Durkheim's project for a comp arative classification of social types remained

little more than a pious hope . In The Rules, as in The Division of Labor,

Durkheim gratuitously postulated a hypothetical horde as the basis of group

formation in society, and hence the "natural" b asis of classifi cation of societ

ies in terms of increasingly complex combinations of the nonexistent primal

horde. Individuals in the horde "do not form in the interior of the total group

any special groups which differ from the group as a whole; they are j uxtaposed

atomically. " 12 Du rkheim was forced to concede that no historically known

societies corresponded to this Darwinian notion of the undifferentiated

"protoplasm of the social realm." But the force of this model of pr imitive

homogeneity was so constraining in D urkheim's mind that he concluded,

with no appeal to evidence, that the "simplest" types of "primitive" society were "formed immed iately and without any i n termediary by a repet it ion of

hordes . " 13 The horde, which became a "segment" of a larger "segmental" so

ciety by recapitulating the atomistic j uxtaposition of its members in its own

relations (or nonrelations) with other hordes, was for Durkheim the clan. A .

R . Radcliffe-Brown detected wi th acumen how this sociologically false and

misleading conception of groups in "primitive" societies remained basic even


in The Elementary Forms oft he Religious L�fi:: "One o f the results ofDurkheim's

theory is that it over-emphasizes the clan and clan soli darity. Totemism does

more than express the unity of the clan; i t also expresses the unity of totemic

society as a whole in the relations of the clans to one another within the larger

society. " 14 0ne could add that totem ism might also be related to tension and conflict within and between groups.

The tendency to see phenomena in "primitive" societies in terms ofidentity,

homogeneity, and confusion was carried to absurd lengths in Lucien Levy

Bruhl's attempt to make the Platonic principle of mystical "participation" the

sole basis of experience among the "primi tives. " Despite his own criticism of

Levy-Bruhl's tendency to see an unbridgeable gap between forms of experience in "primit ive" and modern societ ies , a strong element of the tendency

remained i n Durkheim's attempt to fi nd the source of rel igious be l i efs i n

undifferentiated concepts l ike "mana." And Durkheim often continued t o see

the type of communal identity that i s at most attained within confl ict groups

in revolutionary "effervescence" and within a stable society only periodically,

in ritual activities, as the exclusive functional principle of solidarity in ongo

ing "pri m i tive" societies. Durkhe i m's thought , however, was not dominated by the abstract force of concepts alone or by the generally unsympathetic

ethnocentrism of a Levy-Bruhl . What remained from beginning to end in his

conception of "primitive" societies was the idea of savage experience as the

total realization of the communal bond that he fel t was missing in modern

societies. Yet it is no exaggeration to say that a fundamental basis fo r the

advance of social and cultural anthropology beyond Durkheim has been the application of the pr inciple of differentiation to symbolic systems and social

stru ctures in "primitive" societies, or, even more forcefully, the questioning of

whether any common labe l (much less the designation primitive) fits certain

societies or, instead, relies on the tendentious opposit ion between "them"

and "us ." Along with such questioning has come a fuller appreciation for

both the nature of experience in these societies and the role of differences

and d ifferent ia t ions i n all cultural symbolisms and socia l systems. H i ghly

complex occupational special ization might not be typical of certain societies.

Nor were universalistic values (which applied to all people in certain situa

tions, independent of personal status) or functionally specifi c norms (which

were limited to certain spheres of existence differentiated from other spheres).

But certain sorts of difference and d ifferentiation were crucial in "primi tive"


societies: the problem was their precise nature and relation to issues Durkheim

found important.

The difficulty of relating the universal and typical conditions of solidarity

in modern and "primi tive" societies was compounded in The Division of L a

bor by the inclusion of other concepts and phenomena under the rubrics of mechanical and organic solidarity. Under mechanical solidarity, Durkheim

included - along with s imil i tude, or communal identity, in "primitive"

society (indeed "traditional" societies in general) - the notion of conscience collective, repressive or penal sanctions as the most objective index of this type

of solidari ty, and the idea of segmental structure. Under organic sol idarity, he

included - along with differen tiat ion in modern society - the idea of the weakening, if not the eclipse, of comcience collective, restitutive sanction as

the most objective index of this type of solidarity, the notion of "organized"

structure, and the emergence of universalist ic values and individualism. As I

intimated earlier, at points in this intri cate exercise in opposing modern and

"other" societies, Durkheim threatened to fall into the trap of s imilar dualistic

attempts to classify the universe of societies known to cultural history: the bas ing of "scientific" classification in soc io logy on the vague and tendentious

opposit ion between "them" and "us ."

Perhaps the most plausible way to pursue an analysis of this aspect of The Division of Labor i s to take apart the idea clusters of mechanical and organic

sol idarity, which were to decompose of their own weight over the years, and to

show how Durkheim and his disciples defined and redefined their conceptual

components until new and more (or less) relevant classificatory schemes ap

peared on the horizon of their thought.

Conscience Collective

The core concept of Durkheimian sociology which The Division of La

bor included under mechanica l solidarity was that of conscience collective. Durkheim defined the concept thus :

The totality of beliefs and sentiments common to average members of the same society forms a determinate system which has i t s own life; one can call i t the collective or common conscience . . . . It i s re-


alized only in individuals [but] it is the psychic type of society, a type which has its properties, its conditions of existence, and its mode of development. 1 5

Elsewhere Durkheim would indicate how the conscience collective might

remain pert inent to exceptions in society, even when i t was transgressed .

The conscience collective, i n contrast with the individual and the event, was

situated on the level of structure. In one sense, it was the sociopsychological

ground of a common culture in members of society. In French, the word

conscience had the ambivalent meanings of "conscience" and "consciousness ."

Durkhe im , h owever, often stressed that aspects of the conscience collective

might be unconscious. And the concept, both in its conscious and uncon

scious aspects, applied above all to norms, constraining symbol ic systems,

and moral or religious sentiments. Within the French tradition, the concept

recalled Comte's not ion of consensus and Rousseau's idea of volonte gbzerale.

I t also was s imilar to Freud's concept of the superego. Durkheim's not ion

of "collective representation" (somewhat l ike Freud's "ego idea l" ) stressed

more specifically the conscious component of comcience collective. The ideas,

values, and symbols expressed in collective representations were sou rces

of legitimation for institutional practices and actual behavior in soci ety.

Without going into the complex qual ifications that would be required i n

any extended discussion, one might also note that the concept of comcience

collective - especi ally in its unconscious or implicit aspect - resembles later

notions, such as Ferdinand de Saussure's langue (in contrast to parole) and

Levi-Strau ss's structure (in contrast to event) . Bu t Durkheim also at times

retained a sense of ways in which the concept could not be inserted into a

system of binary opposit ions bu t instead informed practices or actual uses

that had a degree of flexibil ity in history and social l ife . St i l l , at its most

dubious , conscience collective approximated vague and tendentious notions

of nat ional character.

The history of Durkheim's intellectual development was in large part

the story of his re-emphasis of factors in social l ife in i t i ally discussed under

the rubric of conscience collective. Yet, within the confining context of me

chanical solidari ty, he associated the conscience collectivewith repressive penal

sanctions and communal identi ty. Repressive sanctions, for Durkheim, were t he most obj ective i ndex or cr iter ion of mechan ical so l idar i ty: they i mposed


expiatory punishment upon the person who offended the comcience collective,

especially in i t s religi ous demands. This punishment was in contrast with

restitutive sanct ions (correlated with organic sol idar i ty) , which simply tried

to reinstate the status quo ante, e .g . , through the payment of damages. The

confinement of the conscience collective to norms defining crimes leading

to repressive sanctions proved in t ime to be too restrictive a notion for

Durkheim, although h e never lost interest i n the problem of crime and

pun i shment a nd its re lat ion to the "hard core" of the conscience collective.

The correlation of comcience co!lectivewith communal identity or similitudes

in the "internal mi l i eu" of the group imposed more extreme and at times

misleading restrictions on usage (restrictions which, in one sense, confl icted

with the emphasis on repressive sanctions, for, within l imits , soci ety tended

to be more communal when it was less repressive and more repressive when

it was less communal ) . But the emphasis upon the importance of community

in a normal state of society was to be retained by Durkheim. And it revealed

the influence of Rousseau on his thought, especially in the bel ief that commun i ty was mos t pronounced in "pri m i tive" soc ie t i es .

In t ime Durkheim's conception of "normality" in modern society re

scinded the narrow correlation of conscience collective, mechanical solidar

ity, and traditional soci ety. The first edition of The Division of Labor itself

presented humanism - the idea of a common human nature and universal

values as the ultimate basis of personal dignity - as the highest cultural

ideal of modern society. Humanism was the universalistic comcience col

lective of modern societ ies , and it enjoined the sent iment of community

among all men qua men (often in blindly gendered and species-specific

terms which Durkheim replicated rather than critically analyzed) . But its

abstract values and imaginary identifications seemed to evolve almost as the

unintended consequence of a process of el imination of other, more concrete

values, attachments, and face-to-face relations. Later, Durkheim argued that

un iversa l i s t ic human i sm need not be incompatible w i th m o re part icu lar

(but not narrowly particularistic) forms of comcience collective. Militant

nat ional ism contradicted a universalistic humanism; but l iberal patriotism

complemented it . In Durkheim's conception of corporatism, moreover, the

insistence upon the necessity of communal intermediary groups was con

jo ined with the idea that a normal, solidaristic social system in modernity would requ i re norms and laws which defined the re lat iona l condit ions of


reciprocity and cooperation among differentiated elements or intermediary

groups in the larger social context. The special ized professional and other

particular contents of experience might be restricted to a given group (and

serve as the experiential basis for a particular component of the conscience collective of that group ) . But , for sol idarity to predominate over particularism, related groups would have to share a conscience collective containing

norms which defl ned the justifled modes of interaction , mutual expectation,

and exchange with one another. This requirement placed a dimension of

organi c sol idarity within the province of the conscience collective. In fact, we

flnd an awareness of this requirement in the discussion of contract law and

its normative social context in The Division of Labor i tself.

Crime and Punishment

The Division of Labor stressed the sociological importance of the com

parative study of legal systems. It placed special emphasis on the role of organized sanct ions in society. This emphas is h ad both m e thodological

and substantive bases.

Methodologically, the organized sanction was an ob jective and relat ively

manifest component of social structure. Thus a focus upon it reduced the

poss ibi l i ty of subjective or ideological distortion of facts in the initial ori

entation of research. As Durkheim remarked in his preface: "To submit an

order of facts to science, i t is not sufflcient to observe them with care, to

describe and classify them. But , what is more difflcult, one must, in the

words of Descartes, flnd the way in which they are scientiflc, that i s discover

in them some objective element which allows exact determination and, i f

possible , measurement." 1 6

Durkheim's later thought was less "posit ivist ic" in that i t neither made

this degree of methodological object ivity the criterion of all s ignificant research nor maintained a pr im ary emphas i s upon fo rmal constraints and

sanctions. And, in marked contrast to important tendencies in social science

that continue to this day, his approach never made a fetish of measurement.

But it did retain the subs tantive basis of the focus on sanctions, which i t

in tegrated into a not ion of objectivity more adapted to the complex , mean

ingful demands of sociocultural enquiry. Sanctions could serve as an index


of solidarity in the "normal" state of society only because they shared in the

nature of the social system in general. For, in the "normal" state of society,

customary or written law was the most organized and stable dimension of

social structure . 1 7 Through its sanctions, a soc ie ty put its authorized power

where i t s mouthed ideals were. One apparent defect of The Division of

Labor was the fact that Durkheim, despite his legalist ic focus, did not treat

the problem of law and sanctions in a society characterized by significant

conflict and marked differences among social groups in terms of wealth,

status, and power. What does law express and how does i t function in a

society riven by conflict? Marx's answer was categorical : law serves the in

terests of the rul ing class . Durkh eim never provided a comprehensive and more nuanced answer to

the questions raised by the problematics of law i n a confl ict-ridden, stratified

society. His later writing contained only scattered references to the problem.

In Suicide, he observed in passing: "When the law represses acts which publ ic

sentiment judges to be inoffensive, i t i s the law which makes us indignant, not

the act which i t punishes." 1 8 One important problem which the propagandistic

World War I pamphlet Germany above All emphasized was the cr is is generated

by a conflict between legal imperatives and the demands of a humanistic ethic.

Although the severity of this conflict challenged his optimistic evolutionary

assumptions about the non-authoritarian and democratic course of law and

government in modern society, Durkheim's answer was unequivocal. In con

trast to the school of j u ridical positivism in Germany, which had exercised

some influence on his early thought, Durkheim without hesitation placed the

humanistic conscience collective of modern society above legal duties to the

state. Had he lived longer, Du rkheim might well have confronted in more

pressing terms the problem of the relation between his theory of value and

the issue of civil disobedience. 1 9

What was the nature of crime and the criminal from Durkheim's socio

logical perspective? The criminal was different from others. This d ifference

lay in the cr imi nal 's infringement of norms and values in wh ich oth ers found

ident ity through communal allegiance and shared commitment . Crime

disrupted the conscience collective. In Durkheim's neo-Kantian and some

what personifYing conception, punishment was the way a law responded to

transgression by reasserting its own threatened authority. As h e phrased i t in

a later work:


A violated law must bear witness to the fact that despite appearances i t is always itself, that i t has lost nothing of its fo rce and authority in spite of the act which negates i t . In other words, it must affirm itself in the face of the offense and react in a way that manifests an energy proportional t o the energy of the attack which i t has undergone. Punishment is nothing other than this meaningfu l manifestation.20

St i l l , from Durkheim's perspective, sanctions in society were essentially

d ifferent from the condit ioning of animals . D urkheim was never "pos

itivistic" in the behavior is t ic or even formalist ic sense. One of his own

later criticisms of pragmatism (in his Pragmatism and Sociology) was its

proximity to purely behavioristic explanations of human activi ty. In turning

to the role of internalized norms in peop le , Durkheim argued that "pun

ishment i s only a sign of an internal state ; i t is a notation, a language by

which . . . the public conscience of society . . . expresses the sentiment which the

blameworthy act inspires in i t . " 2 1 Durkheim did bel ieve that when values

were deeply rooted in the comcience collective, punishment might become

an almost inst inctive react ion. But the emotion involved i n this passionate

response to crime was not pure affectivi ty. I t was affect or sent iment more

or less meaningfully, and perhaps unconsciously, structured by norms and

symbols that interposed themselves b etween stimulus and response. Indeed,

punishment served to counter the unsettl ing, at times traumatic , threat of

anxiety and anomie affectivity attendant on a cha l lenge to one's no rmative

structure of experience.

These were the general notions of crime and punishment, first sketched

in The Division ofLabor, which D urkheim would retain and develop. In The Rules ofSociological Method, however, he pointed to an error in his dominant

conception of crime and the criminal in his first major work: "Con trary to

current ideas, the criminal no longer appears as a radically unsociable or parasitical element, a fo reign and unass imi lable body with in society; he is

a regular agent of social l ife . " 22 The Division of Labor, by Durkheim's own

admission, had stressed the negative nature of the criminal and his relat ion

to society - a viewpoint on the "deviant" which almost refl ected the at

t i tude of the conformist . In his conception of the possible social normality

of crime, Durkheim dialect i cally perceived the posit ive or productive element in cri me .


A certain rate of crime was an essentia l and inevitable constituent of

the healthy o r normal soc ie ty. Funct ionally, crime provided the occasion

for a more or less dramat ic display of socia l sol idar i ty in punishment . Si

mul taneously, it tested existing inst i tut ions and relat ions , indicat ing that

social structures were flex ib le enough to a l low fo r a measure of change. Indeed, the cr iminal and the ideal i s t were related by a hidden funct ional

nexus between transgressi on and transcendence, which at t imes portended

a certain ident i ty of nature. "For society to evolve, individual or ig inal i ty

must break through; for that of the ideal i s t , who dreams of going beyond

h i s century, to manifest i tself, that of the cr iminal , who is be low the level

of his t ime , must b e poss ib le . One does no t go wi thout the other. " 2 3 Even in the most "no rma l " society t h a t cam e c losest to rea l iz ing its

values , there would be a necessary gap be tween ideal discourse or sacred

text and practical real i ty. Hence, one had the existence of anomie and in

determinate interstices in which the cr imina l would always fi nd a place .

Imagine a society of saints , an exemplary and perfect cloister. Crimes in the s tr i ct sense wou ld be unknown there . B u t fau l ts which seem venial to the vulgar would raise the same scandal as ordinary misdemeanors in ordinary consciences. Thus i f this soc ie ty found itself armed with the power to j udge and punish , i t would qual ify these acts as cr iminal and treat them as s u ch. 24

Thus i n al l states , types, and mil ieus of society, the nature of crime sa id

something profound ab o u t the nature of soc ie ty. Crime and conformity

were themselves bound together by a structure of reciprocity. Indeed,

especially in per iods of rapid trans i t i on , i t m ight be im possi b l e to dist in

guish clearly and dis t inctly between the ideal is t and the cr iminal , for both

might ambivalently part ic ipate in the destructive and creative potent ia l of

anomie. With the collapse of fi xed and stable reference p oints , it would

a t t imes be d i fficu l t to te l l who was above and who below the leve l of the

time. D urkheim's frequent references to the trial of Socrates rested upon

an awareness of this d i l emma and the problems i t presented for moral

judgment .

For Durkheim, moreover, the contradictions and equ ivocations of crime

represented l ike a distorted mirror image the uncertainties of conformi ty.


Revealing h is recognit ion of the tendencies of one form of modern hu

manism which were antithetical to his own growing des ire for communal

warmth i n moderni ty, h e perceptively observed:

Such are the characteristics of our immoral ity that they make themselves remarked more by cunning than by violence. These characteristics of our immorality are, moreover, those of our morali ty. It also becomes more cold, self-conscious, and rational. Sensibil ity plays an ever more restricted role, and th i s i s what Kant expressed in placing passion beyond morals. 25

So great was D u rkheim's belief in the importance of the intimate rela

tionship between crime and conformity that i t led to what was for him a

truly signifi cant step: the reorganizati on of material i n the Annt!e sociologique.

Beginning with Volume IV, Durkheim included a section on the functi oning

of moral and j uridical rules in which he included both statistics and an

analysis of conformity and deviance. (This section was paral leled by one

on the genesis and structure of norms and inst itut ions . ) The explanatory

basis of this classificatory reorganization was the realization that disobeying

a ru le was a way of relating to it. The typological variations of conformity

were matched by variations of criminality. As Mauss later observed: " In an

epoch when few statisticians recognized the fact , he distinguished between

violent cri mina lity directed against persons in b ackward classes and populat ions and the mi lder cr imi nality against goods (fraud, abuses of confidence ,

etc . ) in commercial classes and urban, pol iced populat ions . "26 Here we have

an inkling of what Sutherland was to call "w hire-collar crime . " 2 7 Whatever

the problematics of the manner in which he appl ied it to specific cases,

the general principle which underlay Durkheim's conception of crime was

the idea that an inst itut ional order or value system expressed i tself in i t s

fo rms of deviance or transgression i n a manne r ful ly co mp l emen tary to i t s

expression in i ts forms of "respectable" b ehavior. Thus for Durkheim cr ime

itse lf was not a social disease . Rather, the crime rate became a symptom

of social pathology when i t rose above or fel l below certain thresholds of

collective tolerance: then it pointed to severe causes of pathology in soc iety

and attested to the need for social reform.

It would, moreover, be false to conclude, on the grounds that Durkheim assimilated ordinary crime and ideological crime, that Durkheim's theory of

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial l-abor 9 I

crime was convincing evidence of h i s status quo conservatism. Lucien Gold

mann, for example, has written, "It should be pointed out that [Durkheim's

definition of crime] includes acts as different as the deed of Jesus driving

money changers from the temple, the activity ofThomas Miintzer, Karl Marx

or Lenin, on the one hand, and, on the other, the latest hold-up or murder."28 This conAation, for Goldmann, is one proof of "the conservative perspective

in which all of Durkheim's sociology is implicitly elaborated and which al

lows us to explain a great many other features of both his work and that of

his disciples." Goldmann concludes, "the assimilation of the revolutionary to

the criminal naturally turns the reader against the former."29

Durkheim's po int was that, especially in per iods of rap id transit ion, m e m b e rs of soc i ety wou l d themse lves exper i ence a m b iva l e n ce in the

j udgment of certain phenomena . That the ideological cr iminal could

himself p art ic ipate in this ambivalence was shown by the case of Socrates .

Ye t D urkheim did real ize that the characterist ic of ordinary crime was

its parasit ical status vis-a-vis exist ing norms and inst i tut ions , whereas

ideological crime (or , a t times, the ideological aspect of crime) placed in gues t i on the e x i s t i ng ru les o r p o l i ci e s . Du rkh e im , in an art ic le , t r ied to

take account of a criticism by Tarde that was s im ilar to Go ldmann's bu t

that , i n contrast , stressed th e radical impl icat ions of Durkheim's theory

of crime. In other words , Tarde fel t that the approximat ion of the revolu

t ion ary to the criminal naturally turned the reader in favor of the latter.

D urkheim rep l i ed :

I sa id [ in The Rules] that i t was useful and even necessary that in any society the col lective type not repeat itself i d entically in all consciences . . . . When I tried to show how crime could have even direct ut i l i ty, the only examples I cited were those of Socrates and the phi losophical heretics of all times, the precursors offree thought . . . . Then I said that the existence of crime had a generally indirect and sometimes direct utility: indirect , because crime could end only i f t he conscience collective i mposed i tse lf upon individual conscien ces with such incorrigible authority that all moral transformation was rendered impossible ; direct, because sometimes, bu t only sometimes, the criminal was the precursor of a future morality . . . . In all t imes, the great moral reformers condemned the reigning morality and were condemned by i t . 30


Despite the debatable nature of Durkheim's moral futurism and h i s

omission of the po int ( so important for Walter Benjamin) that what loses

out histori cally might be of value and worth redeeming for the present and

future, he did indicate the dialectical relation between crime and conformity.

This involved both the destructive and creative aspects of anomie that were pre-eminently marked in ideological crime. Certa in questionable features

of the argument in The Di11ision of Labor, however, would be only parti ally

mod in ed in the course of t ime.

Durkheim never adequately inquired into the crisis i n the modern con

sciousness of punishment created by the puzzling intersection of an ideo logy

of individual respons ib i l i ty, the theory of social determinants, and the idea of "mental i l l ness ." Nor did he ever treat the psych o logical internal izat ion

of norms and values with the care that would facilitate the bui lding of

br idges to the insights of Freud. In his investigation of crime, D urkheim

did not treat self-punishment, which might have masochistic dimensions,

or the function of the punishment of others in acting out sometimes sadistic

sacrificial scenarios, suppressing one's own criminal tendencies, or relieving one's frustrat ions and anxiet ies . In Durkh e im , there was l i ttle fee l i ng for t h e

poss ib i l ity that people might commit crimes, a s they might turn to suic ide ,

in order to find expiatory punishment for a pre-existing sense of gui l t stem

ming from an explicit act, an overwhelming desire, or the general structure

of a repressive collective or individual conscience.

In his Ci11ilization and Its Discontents, Freud asserted that his intention was "to represent the sense of gui l t as the most important problem in the

evolution of culture, and to convey that the price of p rogress in civiliza

tion is paid in forfeiting happiness through the heightening of the sense of

guilt. " 3 1 Despite his in sistence upon the role of expiation in punishment,

Durkheim devoted scant attention to the problem of guilt - a critical lacuna

in his attempt to relate self and society. Even in his Education morale, which

contained some of his most acute observations on the social determinants of character fo rmat ion , he tended on the who l e to restrict h i mse lf to prob

lems of social structure, sol idar i ty, and blame. Thus crime and punishment

did constitute an area in which Durkheim's curiosity was stunted by h i s

pos itivism and obj ectivism.

In The Di11ision of Labor, moreover, the same problems that plagued

his conception of comcience collecti11e b eset h is theory of crime. Associating


crime in a one-dimensional manner with social homogeneity and communal

identity, he failed to explore fully the ways in which crime was related to

differentiation. The sector of modern l i fe that supported the correlation of

differentiation and restitutive sanction was that of the functionally specific

division of labor, or specialization, in formally rationalized contexts. Bu t Durkheim's tendency to universalize the correlation of communal identity

and penal sanction led h im to ignore or underestimate crucial features of

social l ife .

Durkheim's idea that the criminal was different from others was asso

ciated with the idea that crime itself was a departure from the communal

ident ity assured by the conscience collective. The latter preconception prevented Durkheim fro m seeing that the cr imina l m igh t d i ffe r fro m othe rs in

deviating from norms st ipulating differentiation and that crime itself might

consist in br inging together in i l l ic it communal identity "things" which

ought to remain separate. Crime as deviation from norms prescribing d i f

ferentiation was in certain respects singularly significant in the "primitive"

societies that Durkheim interpreted in terms of homogeneity and communal ident i ty. Durkheim's und ia lectical conception of the role of com

munal identity in cr ime accounted for the fact that, while he recognized the

importance of ritual interdict in creating the religious nature of crime and

the role of the incest taboo in kinship, he was never fully able to account

theoretically for these observations. Thus, for example, he never related the

incest taboo to differentiat ion among kinship groups and never saw the

way in which incest was (as the Chinese characters which stand for incest express i t ) a "confusion of relati onships ." Nor did he devote analytic and

critical attention to the dubious differentiation and illegitimate prohibit ions

involved in the gendering of relat ions, for example, those confining women

to certain del imited social roles and occupations . Indeed h i s own analysis

(notably in Suicide) at times symptomatically replicated stereotypes related

to prevalent male gender anxieties . Durkheim's l ong art ic le e n t i t led "Deux Lo i s de ! ' evolut ion pena l e "

("Two Laws of Penal E volution")32 represented an extended footnote to

the discussion of crime in The Division of Labor. In this article, he tried

to formulate tendential regularities in the development of penal sancti ons .

His focus shifted from restitutive to repressive sanctions in modern society.

He approached the problem through the evolutionary b ias of " l aws" of

94 F.mile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

quali tative and quantitative development in punishment . His law of qual i

tative variation asserted that punishments tended to become less rel igious

in nature. In modern socie ty, punishment was increasingly restr icted to the

deprivation of l iberty through incarceration in special houses of detention.

(This insight was of course later important in the work of Michel Foucault for whom Durkheim was not , however, an explicit reference point . )

In Durkheim's second I aw, the element of social optimism which existed

as an undercurrent in The Division of Labor emerged fully to the surface

of his thought. It stated that the intensity or severity of punishment varied

directly with the extent to which societies be longed to a simpler or "lower"

type and with the extent to which the central government was absolute . Th i s idea was more nuanced than the tendency in The Division of Labor

to correlate "cruel and unusual punishments" with "primitiveness, " for i t

recognized a second variable i n the nature o f the central government - a

factor that was no t pert inent to many "primitive" societ ies . Bu t Durkheim

apparently did n o t believe that authoritarian government was a real pos

s ibi l i ty in modern societ ies . Indeed, the entire problem of the nature of

government , which did not readily fi t i n to t h e s imp le-comp lex schema of

social organization, was deprived of sociological relevance. "This special

form of polit ical organization [ i . e . , authoritarianism] does not pertain to

the congenital constitution of society bu t to individual , transitory, and

contingent condit ions ."3 3 Despite his thesis on Montesquieu, Durkheim

at this stage of his thought was far from learning the lessons in polit ical

sociology that his great predecessor taught. The general ized correlation of "simple" or "undifferentiated" society

with severe punishment , however, could not withstand the onslaught of

evidence. In this respect, Durkheim's lvf oral Education (which began as a

lecture course j u st after the pub l i cation of 'Two Laws of Penal Evolution")

represented a significant advance in his conception of crime and punish

ment . Commenting on the research of the ethnographer Sebald-Rudolf Ste inmetz , Durkheim observed:

A priori, one might believe that it is the rudeness of primi tive mores, the barbarism of the fl rst ages which gave birth to this [severe] system of punishment. B ut the facts are far from concording with this hypothesis , h owever natural it may first appear . . . . In the great majority


of cases, discipl ine is of great mildness [ i n "primitive" societies] . The Indians of Canada love their chi ldren tenderly, never beat them, and do not even reprimand them.34

A l ittle later Mauss, writing about a "primitive" society (that of the

Todas) in the Annee sociologique, asserted: "Penal law does not exist to

any significant extent. I t i s probable that the cause of this absence i s the

extreme mildness of mores in these populat ions . " 3 5 Curiously, Durkheim

himself observed in an Annee review that predated his "Two Laws of Penal

Evolut ion" : "The role of discipl ine grows with civilizat ion . The notion of

rules, of imperative norms, wh ich holds such a great place in our morality

has nothing primitive about it. It is thus natural that education becomes

impregnated with a certain austerity."36

These rather overstated observations on the repressive role of developing

civilization were supplemented in Durkheim's Moral Education with a l ine

of argument that did greater j ustice to the function of authoritarian gov

ernment by placing i t in the broader context of authoritarian and oppressive

institutional structures in general. In early modern history, corporal pun

ishment found a privileged sanctuary i n the type of school that was marked

by maximal social distance b etween teacher and pup i l and a claustration

of children that isolated them from their famil ies and the rest of society.

This educational s ituation, Durkheim concluded, easily "degenerates into

despotism . " The means of avoiding this danger was to prevent the school

"from closing in upon itself. . . and assuming too professional a c haracter."

This could be effected only by mu ltiplying the school 's points of contact

with the external world. "In itself, the school, like all constituted groups,

tends toward autonomy. It does not easily accept control . Yet control is

indispensable for it , not only from an intellectual , b u t from a moral point

of view."37

Durkheim went on to elaborate a more inclusive theory of severe and

violent punishments, which he extended beyond the school to comprise

such phenomena as colonialism. Corporal punishment in the school was

" . 1 f 1 , a partJcu ar case o a aw.

Every t ime two populat ions , two groups of ind ividuals , of unequal culture find themselves in sustained contact , certain sentiments develop which lead the more cultivated group or the group which


bel i eves i tself to b e more cultivated to do violence to the other. This can be observed very frequently in colonies and in any country where representatives of a European civil ization find themselves at grips with an i n fer ior civi l izat i o n . Without violence having any ut i l i ty, and although i t presents grave dangers to those who indu lge i n i t and who expose themselves to fearful reprisals , i t breaks out inevitably . . . . There is produced a veritable drunkenness, a shameless exaltation of the ego, a sort of megalomania which leads to the worst excesses, whose origin is not difficult to perceive . . . . The individual does not contain himself un less he i s faced with moral fo rces which he respects and upon which he dares not trample. Otherwise, he knows no limits and asserts himself without measure or bound. 3 8

Here Durkheim did br iefly address the problem of colonialism and even

related its violent excesses to the "sublime" feeling of exaltation. His final

observation obscured the way social values and political or mil itary practices

- not simply l imitless individual assertion - may themselves be crucial

in exacerbating colonial excesses. But his valuable insight was that the truly

relevant variable in the severity of punishment is the degree of authoritari

anism in social institutions. Authoritarian structures or relations tended to

convert punishment into a systematic but often anomically unstable form of

extreme violence that might be met by the extremely violent reaction of the

oppressed.

Traditional D ijferentiation

The distinction between segmental and organized structures 11 The Division of Labor paralleled that between the simple and the complex, the

mechanical and the organic, the primitive and the mod ern. 39 The discussion

of segmental structures had the merit of bringing out the importance of

relatively small and self-sufficient populations in societies marked by strong

communal ties, inherited status, attachment to traditions (represented socio

logically by the prestige of elders) , local territory (or vicinage ) , religi ous belief

and practice, and the importance of kinship. However, Durkheim's idea of segmental structures i ncreased the d i fficu l ty of relating the various factors

that he inventoried, for i t reinforced the preconception that certain societies


were based exclusively on homogeneous groups j uxtaposed, i n Durkheim's

simile, "like the rings of a ringworm."40 Durkheim apparently d id not sense

the absurdity in the idea of a structure that was not in any sense organized. He

could even make the incredible assertion that in "primitive" societies "kinship

itself is not organized."4 1

Given Durkheim's taste for biological metaphors, it is interesting to spec

ulate what might have been the effect on his thought if he had known about

the genetic code. The Division of Labor rel ied on the idea that undifferentiated

protoplasm was the basis of organisms. In his later years, Durkheim did seem

to be on the brink of newer ideas which prefigured the great shift in social

and cultural anthropo logy that was to be effected in France by Marcel Mauss and Claude Levi-Strauss.

In 1 903 , Durkheim observed in an article on methodology written i n

collaboration with Paul Fauconnet:

These elementary forms exist now here in a state of even relative isolation which permits direct observation. Indeed, one must not confound them with primitive forms. The most rudimentary societies are stil l complex, although they have a confused complexity. They contain in themselves, lost in one another [perdues les tmes dans les autres] , but still real, all the elements which wi l l be differentiated and developed in the course of evo lution.42

The quest ion begged in th is quotation is whether the confusion l ies in

the complexity of certain societies or in the understanding of the observer.

Durkheim's thought i tself appeared in slightly clearer form in his Pragmatisme et Sociologie (reconstituted from a course given j ust before his death), in which

he enunciated the idea of a "primitive nebula ."

When Spencer affirms that the universe proceeds from the homogeneous to the heterogeneous, this formula i s inexact. What exists at the origin i s also heterogenei ty, bu t it is heterogeneity in a state of confusion. The init ial state is a mult ipl icity of seeds, of modalit ies , of different activities , not only mixed together, but, so to speak, lost in one another so that i t i s extremely difficult to separate them. They are indistinct from one another. It i s thus that in the cell of monocellular beings all vital functions are as i f gathered up : all are fo und there; only they are not separated. The functions of nutrit ion


and the functions of relation seem confounded, and i t is difficult to distinguish them. In social l ife , this primi tive state of indivis ion i s s t i l l more striking. Religious life, for example, is rich with a mult i tude of fo rms of t h o ught and activity of al l sorts . In the order of th o ught, it comprises: ( I ) myths and religious bel iefs , (2) an incipient science, (3) arts, aesthetic elements , notably song and music . All these elements are gathered up [ ramasses] i n a whole, and it seems diffi cult to separate them: science and art, myth and poe try, moral i ty, law, and religion - all are confounded [ confondu] or rather melted [/ondu] i n to one another.43

This was Durkheim's most complete and perceptive statement of the

problem which began to intrigue him in The Division of Labor. To find

a more adequate conception of the nature and role of differentiation in

"pr imit ive" societies, one must turn from Durkheim himself to a work

which perhaps m arked the beginning of truly modern social and cultural

anthropology in France: The Gift, by Marcel Mauss. Claude Levi-Strauss

has compared the experience of the anthropologist in reading this essay to

that of Malebranche in fi rst reading D escartes. For, despite its suggestively

unfi nished quality and the honeycomb of erudit ion with which it is laced,

this l itt le essay seems to br ing together imaginative conceptualization and

massive evidence in a manner indi cating a l ife spent in intimate contact with basic problems and an awareness of the way th ings fall into place without

losing their local color.

M auss fu lly realized that the fact that one never fi nds one homogeneous

group in isolation bu t finds always at least two associated groups is indeed a

crucial fact for sociological theory. The idea of an isolated, undifferentiated

horde as the basis of social l i fe was untenable. Thro ugh an analysis of gift

exchange, Mauss sought "a set of more or less archeological conclusions on the nature of human transactions" which amounted to l i t t l e less than a gen

eral theory of the role and nature of differentiation and exchange in human

societies .44 The fundamental status of the exchange of gifts in "primitive"

societies revealed the universality of social differentiation which in certain

contexts served to "bind clans together and keep them separate, divide their

labor and constrain them to exchange ."4 5 In his study of the gift, moreover, Mauss sought "the answer to the questi on posed by Durkhe im about t h e

religious origin of economic value."46


What underlay and informed the exchange of gifts i n certain societ

ies was a structure of reciprocity that led men in groups to relate to other

groups through the obligation to give gifts, accept them, and render gifts

in return. Members of indigenous societies conceptualized this structural

principle - which normatively combined spontaneity and constraint, interest and obl igation, freedom and necessity - in the idea that immanent

in the gift was a rel igious and magical force binding people to return what

they received. Thus receiving a gift was a dangerous as wel l as a gratifying

experience, for it obliged the receiver to reciprocate, at times with increased

largesse, often under the pain of magical sancti on.

Differentiation always imp l i ed a measure of conflict among differentiated ent it ies . But in certain cases ( e .g . , in Nor th A m er ica a nd Me l anesia)

"amiable rivalry" compatible with mutual respect gave way to bouts of

excessive, even arrogant, gift-giving whose purpose was to establish po

l it ical and moral superiori ty. The circle of reciprocity was broken by the

domineering gesture and the unilateral disdain which crushed one's rival

with largesse. G i ft exchange, in a sense, inverted the principle of capitalist ic accumu l at ion by i n s t i tut iona l ly requi r ing men to give more than they

took rather than to profit by taking more than they gave. I n the p otlatch

- the "monster child of the gift system" - the "agonistic" component i n

largesse attained th e tragic level of hubris i n ostentatious disp lay: enormous

quantit ies of gifts were not given b u t contemptuo usly destroyed or thrown

into the sea. The p o tlatch revealed why men might be feared and suspected

of treachery, especially when bearing gifts. The fear of the gift one could not repay was expressed in the ambivalence of the G erman Gift, meaning

both "present" and "poison ." I n a supp l ementary article on the su ic ide

of a Ga l l i c chi ef, M auss developed further the extreme complexity of the

moral psychology of gift exchange by recounting the tale of a leader who ,

unable to reciprocate in kind, gave the only thing comparable i n value to

what he had received: his l ife .

But t he gift in "pr im i t ive" societ ies was never a n i so la ted ph enomenon .

In h i s concept o f the fait social total, Mauss revised and reformulated

Durkhe i m's i d ea of a "prim i t ive nebu l a . " I t was n o t that i d eas were

uniquely confused or d ifferentiat ions lacking in certain soc iet ies , but that

differentiations tended to be cumulative in nature and to engage experience

on a multipl icity of levels s imultaneo usly: "In these 'early' societies , social

1 0 0 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

phenomena are not discrete; each phenomenon contains all the threads of

which the soc ia l fabr ic i s composed. In these total social phenomena rJaits

sociaux totaux] , as we propose to call them, all kinds of inst i tut ions find

simultaneous expression: religious, legal , moral , and economic. In addit ion,

the phenomena have the ir aesthetic aspect and they reveal morphological

types."47

The difference be tween "primi tive" and modern societies that Durkheim

sought could, i n the light of Mauss's ideas, be formulated, I think, as follows.

Certain societies accumulated relations among roles, groups, persons, values,

and ideas in a way which set l imits to economic growth and technological

control of nature, but which also implicated peop le in an intricate, inclusive network of spiritual and symbo l i c re la t ions with o n e another and t h e

cosmos. Modern societies distinguished sharply between nature and culture

(as between humans and other animals) , dissociated institutional spheres

from one another (fami ly, j ob , politics, art, religion, and so on), defined

often depersonalized roles in functionally specific ways, objectified nature

in the interest of manipulat ion and control (at the l imit as "raw material" ) , and furthered technological mastery and the accu mulat ion o f econom i c

goods, often ( i f no t typically) a t t h e expense of the environment. The say

ing "Business is bus iness" was a meaningfully tautological expression of

this orientation. In modern society differentiations tended to b e detached

from one another in relatively clear and distinct, Cartesian compartments

of activity and boxes of experience. Advanced special ization, in the modern

division of labor, was one prominent fo rm of this phenomenon. What were the implications of this contrast b etween "primitive" and

modern societ ies for the problem of relating self and society? In "primitive"

societies, the relation between the self and social experience was more en

compassing, l ike the relation b etween people and nature, b ecause individual

and group gave more of themselves in each relationship and in more many

sided ways. Individuality was subordinated to personhood in a sense that m ight d imi n ish or even seem to deny any ex istent ia l distance between th e

individual and his or her roles or subject posit ions . In ul t imate forms, the

individual found meaning for his or her own life in the cosmic archetype

that countered the role, if it did not negate the reali ty, of chronological ,

irreversible time and might to some significant extent mitigate the anxie ty

ridden confrontation of the individual with death.

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I 0 I

In modern society, each role o r group involved only a del imited invest

ment of the self and called for only a l imited commitment, at times largely

restricted to external conformity or the st ipulations of a contract mo tivated

by self- interest. Individuality became a keynote of sociocultural lif e, at times

in ways that masked related forms of sometimes extreme dependence on others. The gro up was less a mil ieu of existence, the development of the person

less a community project, the "personal" more markedly distinguished from

the "official" capaci ty, th e "private" from the "publ ic , " occupation more a

technically, professi onally, and economically rationalized enterprise, and the

search for identity an individual quest which often produced more weak

books than strong personalit ies . The way in which a person experienced thi ngs or related to other people tended to be "one-d imens iona l . " Reactions

to this state of affairs might prompt various types of group mobil ization and

collective affi rmations of, or quests for, a shared identity.

In The Gift, Mauss drew critically accentuated moral and pol it ica l con

clusions with specific reference to forms of modern society. Analytically, he

con trasted the ins t i tut ions of a cap i ta l i s t ic economy with those related to

gift exchange.

Let us now test the notion to which we have opposed the idea of gift and disinterestedness: that of interest and the individual pursuit of util ity . . . . If similar motives animate Trobriand and American chiefs and Andaman clans and once animated generous Hindu or Germanic noblemen in their giving and spending, they are not to be found in the cold reasoning of the bus inessman, banker or capitalist . In those earlier civilizations one had interests but they differed from those of our time. There, if one hoards, i t i s only to spend later on, to put people under obligations and to win fo llowers. Exchanges are made as well , but only of l uxury objects l ike clothing and ornaments, or feasts and other things that are consumed at once . . . . It is only our Western societies that qu i te recently turned man into an economic animal . . . . For a long time, man was something quite d ifferent; and it is not so long ago now since he became a machine - a calculating machineY

One might of course qual ify Mauss's hyperbole, which to some extent

was polemical, for example, by noting charitable giving in certain capitalistic


contexts. St i l l , Mauss himself went o n to consider reform i n a tram of

thought revealing that one bas ic sense i n which Durkheim and his school

were conservative was in the desire to return to what they saw as bedrock

fundamentals of human existence that were depreciated in modern l ife

and particularly devalued in capital ist ic market-oriented act ivity. These elementary fo rms of sociocultural l ife provided a daily bread of solidarity

and led people to experience the necessary contradictions, l iminal invita

t ions, and anomie breakthroughs of existence in all their tragic profundi ty.

For Mauss as for Durkheim, basic inst i tut ional change adapted to modern

condit ions might enable people to find a path back to the wisdom of" primi

tive" societ ies that was expressed in noble reciprocal gift-giving.

We should return to the old and elemental . Once again we shall discover those motives of action still remembered by many societies and classes : the j oy of giving in public, the delight in generous artistic expenditure, the pleasure of hospi tality in the publ ic or private feast . Social insurance, so l icitude in mutual i ty or cooperat ion i n the professional group and al l those moral persons called Friendly Societ ies , are better than the mere personal security guaranteed by the nobleman to his tenant, better than the mean l ife afforded by the daily wage handed out by managements, and better even than the uncertainty of capitalist savings . . . . For honor, d i s interestedness, and corporate solidarity are not vain words, nor do they deny the necessity for work. We should humanize the other liberal professions and make all of them more perfect. That would be a great deed, and one Durkheim already had i n view. In do ing th i s we should , we bel ieve, return to the ever-present bases of law, to i t s real fundamentals and to the very heart of normal social l i fe.49

The probe into the problems which held the attention of the Durkheim

school has b een continued by a thinker who has acknowledged the indirect

infl uence ofD urkheim and the more direct, informal, and fruitfully personal

influence of Marcel Mauss : Claude Levi-Strauss. La Pensee sauvage ( The Savage Mind) constituted a nodal po int in the development of Levi-Strauss.

( I say more about its relat ion to D u rkheim's thought when I discuss the re

lation of the human sciences to epistemology.) In this extremely difficult and

professedly provisional pause in his work, Levi-Strauss broached problems

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor ! 03

which had been downplayed in the thought o f D urkhe im. These problems

included people's perceptual and metaphoric relations with nature, the

mediat ion between sensat ion and the inte l lect, the nature of t ime, cosmic

structures of experience, and the dia lect ic between the real and the imagi

nary. Indeed, i t would not be going too far to argue that La Pemee sauvage is basically a study in the epistemology of perception which em ploys material

drawn from "primitive" or "savage" societ ies in a "crucial experiment" i n

t h e elaborat ion of a general theory. In his own conception of the relat ion

of sociology to phi losophy, Durkheim was fully aware of the symbol ic and

structural bases of culture and society, bu t he was bound by a highly specific

metaphysic in his interpretation of this idea. The work of Levi-Strauss goes beyond Durkhe im's soc ia l metaphysic in its content ion tha t the not ion of

mutual respect as the complement of self-respect must be extended to the

more generous, less narrowly anthropocentric, idea that one cannot respect

oneself or others without respecting the whole of nature. This gift of broader

so l idarity i s entai led in Levi-Strauss's conviction that true humanism must

begin beyond "man" - that i t "does not beg in wi th oneself, but places the wor ld above l i fe , l i fe above man , respect for oth ers above egotism . " A more

intimate knowledge of certain societ ies enabled Levi-Strauss to reassert the

pr imacy of Rousseau in modern cul tura l thought (and of the Kant who

was greatly i nfl uenced by Rousseau) , whereas Durkheim placed ultimate

fai th in a Cartesianized neo-Kantianism which culminated i n a dualist ic

conception of mind and body and left l i t t le epistemological room for Kant's

faculty of aesthetic j udgment. On the more circumscribed problem of the contrast between "primi

tive" and modern societ ies with respect to the existence of d i fferentiation,

Levi-Strauss observed:

We know the taboo on parents-in-law or at least i ts approximate equivalent. Through it we are forbidden to address the great of this world and obliged to keep out of their way . . . . Now, in most societies the pos i t ion of wife giver is accompanied by social (and sometimes also economic) superiori ty, that of wife taker by inferiority and dependence. This inequal i ty be tween affines may be expressed obj ectively in institut ions as a Au id or stable hierarchy, or it may be expressed subj ectively in the system of interpersonal relations by means of privileges and prohibit ions .


Thus nothing mysterious is attached to these usages which our own experience unveils to us from the ins ide . We are disconcerted only by their constitu tive conditions, different in each case. Among ourselves, they are clearly detached from other usages and linked together in a nonequivocal context. In con trast, i n exotic societies the same usages and the same context are, as it were, ensnared [englues] in other usages and a d ifferent context: that of family ties, with which they seem to us incompatible . We find it hard to imagine that in private the son-in-law of the President of the French Republic should see in him the chief of state rather than the father-in-law. And although the Queen of England's husband may b ehave as the fi rst of her subjects in public, there are good reasons for supposing that he i s jus t a husband when they are alone together. It is either one or the other. The superficial strangeness of the taboo on parents-in-law arises from its being both at the same t ime.

Consequently, as we have found already in the case of operations of understanding, the system of ideas and attitudes appears here only as incarnated . . . . What appears to us [ in modern relationships] as greater social ease and greater intellectual mobi l i ty i s thus due to t he fact that w e prefer to operate with detached pieces [pieces detachees] , if not indeed with small change [Ia monnaie de Ia piece] , while the native is a hoarder: he is forever tying the threads, tirelessly turning over on themselves all aspects of reali ry, whether physical , social , or mental . We traffi c in our ideas; he makes of them a treasure. Savage thought [Ia pensee sauvage] puts in pract ice a philosophy of finitude. 5 0

Freud's concept of transference would complicate Levi-Strauss's formu

lations and lead one to see somewhat differently the relat ion b etween the

"primitive" and the modern. In any event , the first great theoretical work of

Levi-Strauss, Les Structures element aires de la parente ( The Elementary Struc

ture of Kinship ) , was tacitly posited on the extension ofDurkheim's category

of organic solidarity (in the sense of differentiation and reciprocity) to the

study of kinship structures in "primi tive" societies . In a summary which

Levi-Strauss gave of his general conclusions, he observed:

Now, in exactly the same way that the pr inciple of sexual division of labor establishes a mutual dependency be tween the sexes, compelling

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I 05

them thereby to perpetuate themselves and to found a fam ily, the prohibit ion of incest establishes a mutual dependency between families, compell ing them, in order to perpetuate themselves, to give rise to new families . It is through a strange oversight that the similarity of the two processes i s generally overlooked on account of the use of terms as diss imilar as division, on the one hand, and prohibition on the other. We could easily have emphasized only the negative aspect of The Division of Labor by calling it a prohib i t ion of tasks; and conversely, outl ined the posi tive aspect of incest-prohibit ion by cal l ing it the pr inciple of The Division of Labor of marriageable rights between famil ies . For incest-p rohibit ion s imply states that fami l i es (however they should be defined) can only marry between each other and that they cannot marry ins ide themselves. 5 1

The role o f differentiation i n "primitive" societies was also investigated

by Levi-Strauss in a study of totemism which preceded La Penst!e sauvage. In

Le 1otemisme aujourd'hui ( 1otemism) , he interpreted totemism on the mos t

general t heoret ica l level as the assert i on o f a h omo l ogy between a b i n ary

opposit ion between natural species and a binary opposit ion between social

groups . Levi-Strauss found the only specific ity of totemism as a cultu ral

phenomenon to be the privileged role of natural species as logical operators.

The logical "s imil i tude," moreover, was postulated neither within society

as a homogeneous whole nor between the group and a natural species . The

"s imil i tude" referred to comparable differences between natural species and

social groups. Durkheim's later theory of religion comprised a conception

of a global totemic institution combining rel igion, kinship, and alimentary

taboos. In The Elementary Forms of the Religious L�fe, Durkheim would argue

that the totem was s imultaneously the "family" name of the clan and the

sacred object of religious devot ion, and he would center his interpretat ion

on the idea of an identification between a sol idary social group (the clan)

and an essential pr inciple of religi ous meaning asserted by him to be the

"hidden" referent in the figurative and emblematic representation of a natural

species . Du rkheim argued that this "hid d en" referent was society i tse lf, and

religion for Durkheim had an essentially social meaning. For Levi-Strauss,

religion had a social aspect, bu t i t included this aspect in a broader network

of relations, including prominently people's relation to nature. To temism

did not have an invariably religi ous function. The logical ident ity affi rmed

JOG Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

by totemism, moreover, referred to the relation b etween internally differ

entiated series of natural and social groups. And the entire not ion of an

original social and cultural complex gravi tating around the totem formed

an untenable "totemic i l lusi on . "

Through the usage of an animal and plant nomenclature ( i ts unique distinctive characterist ic) , the al leged totemism does no more than express in its own way - by means of a code, as we would say today - correlations and opposit ions which can be formalized in other ways, e .g . , among certain tribes o fN orth and South America by oppositions of the type sky/earth, war/peace, upstream/downstream, red/white , etc. The most general model and the most sys tematic appl ication of this is perhaps to be found in China, in the opposit ion of the two principles Yang and Yin, as male and female , day and night, summer and winter, the union of which results in an organized totality ( tao) such as the conjugal p air, the day, or the year. Totemism is thus reduced to a particular fashion of posing a general problem: how to make opposit ion, instead of being an obstacle to integrati on , serve rather to produce i t . 5 2

Thus totemism for Levi-Strauss amounted to a subcase of the general problem of making differentiation the ground of integration - the very problem which Durkheim had earlier conceptualized in terms of organic sol idarity. The highly complex role of more or less comprehensive, cumulative differentiations in symbol ic systems and social structure (conceived analytically as one type of symb olic system rather than as an invariably autonomous, "sui generis realm of social facts") has been further extended by Levi-Strauss into the study of mythology, a problem area that Durkheim largely p assed over in si lence. S ince this aspect of Levi-Strauss's thought

i s both the most intr icate and the least accessible to the nonspecial ist , we shall have to be content with i ts mere mention. It i s , however, safe to say that the thought of Levi-Strauss has thoroughly exploded Durkheim's idea of s implic ity, homogenei ty, and diffuseness as the essence of "primi tive"

societies . In its place, there have arisen problems of such magnitude that modern social scientists often feel compelled to call upon other special ists , e .g. , mathematicians, and thereby invoke the modern division of labor i n order t o track certain societies ' "primi tive" complexity and possibly transhistorical impl ications.

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor 107

But the transcendence of Durkheim's ethnocentrism has in practice

often led to the loss of his profound interest in the nature and course of

modern societies. Judging from Levi-Strauss's own work, the major problem

of the ethnologist i s no longer objectivity in relation to experience in other

societies because of his commitments in modern society but detachment from the problems of modern society because of commitment to the ways

of other societies . This attitude easily shades into elegiac remembrance, a

form of aestheticism which, in its social implications, has little to distinguish

it from less elevated forms of escapism and divertissement. Yet it was Levi

Strauss who in his " Inaugural Address" formulated, in spite of his apparent

reluctance, the pregnant poss ib i l ity sensed by Mauss and vaguely fe lt by Durkheim h im se lf.

I f i t were - and t h ank God i t is n o t - expected of the anthropologist that h e presage the fu ture of humanity, no doubt h e would conceive i t , n o t as a prolongat ion or a transcendence of present forms, but rather on the model of an i ntegrati on , progressively un i fying the ch aracterist ics proper to cold soc iet ies [ i . e . , t h e type of order, approximated in "primitive" societ ies , which rests on the primacy of reversible, cyclical time] and hot societ ies [ i . e . , historically turbulent change and "progress , " approximated i n modern societies] . His reflection would take up the thread of the old Cartesian dream of placing machines , l ike automata, in the service of man. He would follow the traces of this dream in the social phi losophy of the eighteenth century up until Sa int-Simon. For, in announcing the passage "from the government of men to the administrat ion of things," the latter anticipated the dist inct ion between [material ] culture and society and the convers ion , which information theory and electronics enable us at least to pe rceive as possible , from a type of civil izat ion which historical becoming inaugurated in the past - b u t at the pr ice of a transformation of men into machines - to an ideal civi l izat ion which could succeed in transforming machines into men. Then, cu l ture having received the b u rden of manufactur ing progress, society would be l ib erated from the mi l l ennia! curse which forced i t to enslave men in order to progress. Thenceforth, history could make itself. And society - placed above, or be low, h i story - cou l d once again assume tha t regular and a lmost crystall ine structure which the best preserved of pr imitive societies teach


us is not contradictory to human nature. In this perspective, even if utopian, social anthropology would find its highest justification, for the forms of life and thought which it studies would no longer have only historical and comparative interest. T hey would correspond to a permanent choice for man which social anthropology, especially in our most somber hours, would have the mission of safeguardingY

This notion of reconciling progress with legitimate order in modern

society, which Durkheim expressed in his own way in terms of the dialectic

of anomie and a structurally informed conscience collective, brought the

Durkheim school beyond the retrogressive memories ofComte. It showed

the way to an idea of the legitimately conservative possibilities of modern

society. Given the nature of status quo institutions and conditions in mod

ern society, however, this vision increasingly led to what might be called a

selectively radical conservatism requiring basic structural change. For only

structural change would permit the use of modern material culture in ways

compatible with a (re)turn to fundamentals in social life through structural

transformation involving the planned avoidance of unwanted change.

Yet one crucial problem left by Durkheim has not been adequately

resolved by French thinkers influenced by him. Durkheim perceived in

an exaggerated fashion the importance of community in "primitive" so

cieties. Lucien Levy-Bruhl's stress on this idea was even more one-sided.

Durkheim, moreover, increasingly saw the need for significant commu

nity in all "healthy" societies. The problem he lef t was that of the precise

relationship between community and differentiated structure at various

levels of t he "tree" of social life. A danger in the methodological revision

ism of Claude Levi-Strauss is the radical de-emphasis of the problem of

communtty.

For f urrher insight into this problem, one may turn to Victor Turner,

one of the most important English-speaking anthropologists significantly

influenced by the thought of Durkheim. Turner deserves more adequate

coverage than he receives here, for in his treatment ofDurkheim's thought

as a living tradition, he showed himself to be a thinker of a stature com

parable to Levi-Strauss's. I shall confine myself to a few brief indications

of the line of argument in the three concluding chapters of one ofTurner's

most synthetic works, The Ritual Process. 54

Chapter 3 The Divtston ofSocial rabor 1 09

The Ritual Process in a sense revives the problem posed in The Division of Labor. For Turner focuses on the roles of structural differentiation and

communitas as complementary and dialect i cally (or dialogically) related

aspects of the social system. C ommunitas is more d i ffl cult to grasp than

structure. But a study of i t is vital and is related to the understanding of structure itse lf.

Communitas is made evident or accessible , so to speak, only through its juxtaposit ion to, or hybridization with, aspects of social structure. Just as in Gestalt psychology, flgure and ground are mutually determinative, or, as some rare elements are never found in nature in their pur i ty but only as components of chemical compounds, so communi tas can be grasped only in some relat ion to structure. Just because the communitas component is elusive, hard to pin down, i t is not unimportant. Here the story of Lao-Tse's chariot wheel may b e apposite . The spokes of the wheel and the nave . . . to which they are attached would be useless, he said , but for the hole , the gap, the emptiness at the center . . . which is nevertheless indispensable to the functioning of the wheel . 5 5

In this quote , Turner problematizes identity by suggestively l inking communitas to generative emptiness or absence rather than to any substantial or reified notion of community. For Turner, moreover, in any society communitas may existential ly erupt in the extreme experience of individuals , e .g. , in mystical states. In a relatively stable, ongoing social system, however, communitas is normatively integrated with structure, for example, in rituals such as rites of passage that meaningfu lly relate t h e l im ina l o r t rans i t iona l

stages of a person's development to his or her l ife cycle as a whole . In a society excessively bound by formal structures, communitas may be ideo logically afflrmed by restive segments of the populat ion . Revolution itself represents a l iminal state of society as a whole . Turner concludes that "communitas breaks in through the i n terstices of structure, in l iminal ity; at the edges of structure, in marginality; and from beneath structure, in inferiority. It is

almost everywhere held to be sacred or ' holy, ' possibly b ecause i t transgresses or dissolves the norms that govern structured and inst i tut ionalized relationships and is accomplished by experiences of unprecedented potency. "56

Hence communitas would paradoxically seem related to a certain mode of anom1e.

I I 0 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

Through the concept of communitas, Turner i s ab le to relate - at

times i n perhaps too faci le or insuffl ciently developed a manner - such

seemingly diverse phenomena as "neophytes in the l iminal phase of r i tual ,

sub juga ted autochthones , small nat ions, court j esters , holy mendicants ,

good Samaritans, millenarian movements, 'dharma bums , ' matrilaterality

in patril ineal systems, patri laterality in matril ineal systems, and monast ic

orders . " 57 The mere indicat ion of the problems Turner treats shows the

continuing relevance of the quest ions raised i n Durkheim's The Division of Labor. To some extent, Turner's ideas inform my later discussion of

developments in Du rkheim's thought.

Theory of Change

After his discussion of mechanical and organic solidarity i n normal

states of society, Durkheim's focus in The Division of Labor sh ifts to the

process of change, which purportedly has led from one type of solidar

ity to the preponde rance of t h e other. I n view of stereotyped not ions of Durkheim's "static" b i as , it i s signiflcant that the question of change i s at the

center of his fl rst major work. Increasingly, his reformist goal was the type

of inst itut ional structure that would l imit uncontrolled historical change

and establish legitimate order. In this sense, stabil ization was indeed h i s

a im . But , analytically and empiri cally, Durkheim was not obl ivious to the

problem o f change. The questionable feature of The Division of Labor and

of Durkheim's thought as a whole i s not the neglect of historical change

b u t the i d ea of it Du rkheim at t imes entertained. Du rkheim often assumed

that an essential s imilarity of structure in two societ ies or social types, one

of which was (o r was be l ieved to be) in some sense logically "simpler" than

the other, permitted the inference that the second society had evolved his

torically from the first by a process of increasing complexity of structural

development . Th i s preconcept ion enabled the theor i s t to play havoc with

the relationship between logic and t ime .

In fa ct, D urkheim's ent i re evolut ionary fram ework i n h i s first ma

jor work o ften amounted to an uncrit ica l rel iance on Spencer's idea of

evolut ion as a movement from homogeneity to d ifferent ia t ion . In his

First Princip les, Spencer h ad formulated h i s general i d e a of evolut ion

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I l l

thus : "Evolut ion is an integration of matter and concomitant diss ipat ion

of motion; dur ing which the matter passes from a relatively indefinite ,

incoherent homogeneity to a relatively definite, coherent heterogeneity; and

during which the retained mot ion undergoes a para l l e l transformation." 5 8

In h i s parody of Spencer , Wil l iam James br ings out the confusion under

the verbiage of th i s "grand theory" of change from homogeneity to d i f

ferent ia t ion : "Evolut ion is a change from a no-howish, untalkaboutable ,

al l-al ikeness to a somehow ish and in general talkaboutable not-al l-al ikeness

by continuous sticktogetherations and somethingels ificat ions ." 5 �

Durkheim's dependence on d i ffuse ideas of evolution for h i s model

of change accounted, no doubt , for the fact that The Division of Labor

has no genuine historical dimension. The known process of change - or

"modern i zat ion," a term wh i c h i s at times a b are-faced euphem ism - i n

"primitive" soc iet ies took t h e form o f colonial i sm, imperia l i sm, a n d "cul

ture contact" with societ ies which had already atta ined economic, mil itary,

and techno log ica l super ior i ty. Yet Durkhe im h ad l i t t l e to say about th i s

process , a process wh ich cou ld b e documented histor ica lly. Indeed, the

uproot ing of "pr imitive" soc ie t ies by "h i gher" types of c ivi l izat ion made

the "primitive" man in modern history prone, among other things, to

anomie su ic ide - a fact which Durkheim did not discuss , even in Sui

cide. Moreover, the modern i ndustr ia l soc ie t i e s wh i ch most concerned

Durkhe im had developed, not from a general type of "pr imitive" or tra

dit ional soc iety, bu t , with a great dea l of turmoi l , from a feudal past . As

Tocquevi l le had u nderstood, as experience in France made evident, and

as Durkheim himself seemed to real ize in his less grandly theoret ica l mo

ments, the prec i se nature of the historical development from a feudal pas t

was intimately related to the speci f ic problems faced by var ious Western

countr ies in the modern per iod . In the United States , which l a cked a

pronounced feuda l past , a heritage of slavery and racism created severe

d i fficult ies for the achievement of consensus in ways which differed ac

cording to region. Of these matters , D urkheim said nothing. And one

of the most blatant omiss ions in his d i s cussion of modern society in the

West was the absence of any extended treatment of the specific nature of

soc ia l s t ructure in Ge rmany and its relat ion to Ge rmany's domestic s itu

ation and international posit ion. Du rkheim touched upon the "German


problem" only i n propagandistic pamphlets toward the end of h i s life. And

i fh e had wanted to i nvestigate an internal process of change from "pr imi

t ive" cultures to Western practices and be l i efs , the logical h istor ica l place

to start would h ave been pre-Socratic Greece. The Division of Labor, i n

bri ef, often subordinates real problems and histor ical processes t o models

at least as abstract as those of the class ical economists whom Durkheim

never t ired of crit icizing.

Although Durkhe im's discussion in The Division of Labor gives l i t t le

h istor ica l ins ight into s ign ificant cases o f change, i t i s noneth e l ess inter

es t ing fo r his general concept ion of soc ia l process and for what it reveals

concerning h i s u ncertaint ies about m o d ern soc ie ty. The abstract qual i ty

of his argument der ived largely fro m the fact that he was addressing him

se lf, not p os i tive ly to empi r i ca l ev idence and problems in the analysis of

soc iety, bu t predominantly to the mode l s o f o ther theorists . D u rkheim

presented massive change in soci ety as a process in which integrated social structures are subjected to condit ions b eyond their control and wh i ch

results in a trans i t iona l phase o f pathological d isord e r b efo re society can

reorganize on new structural bases .

With the fre quent ly false and superfic ia l r igor of monocausal the

ories of the t ime, D urkheim selected population pressure as the cause of

the upse t in the funct iona l ba lance o f soc ie ty. Hi s va l id po in t was that

demograph ic condi t ions are a lways soc i a l ly relevant as we l l as affected

by soc ia l fo rces and that a wel l-ordered soc iety requires a normatively

contro l led popu lat ion po l i cy. In fact, shi fts in pop ulat i o n did have spe

cial impo rtance in caus ing unwanted change in "p ri m i tive" soc iet ies

where norms and b el i e fs general ly functioned to keep pop ulat ion down

to manageable proport ions . The cmcia l role of demography in "devel

oping" and modern societ ies has , of course, b e come increasingly obvious .

But a methodo logical ly pert inent cr i t ic i sm is that D u rkheim's extreme

monocau sal i sm prevented h i m fro m devoting su ffi cient a t tent ion to

other factors - e . g. , technology and ideo logy - in processes of maj o r

social change.

Theoretically and ideologically, this model of change, which envisioned

a passage from "normal" structure through a period of "pathological" tran

s it ion to a new form of "normal" structure, had great importance. For

Du rkheim as fo r earl ier thinkers such as Sa int-S imon, Comte, and J . S.

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I 13

Mil l , modern society was passing through a transit ional phase in which

pathogenic causes had not yet been ful ly transcended. D urkheim's con

cept ion of ut i l i tarianism was derived from the thought of Bentham and

Spencer, and i t was infl uenced by Soc ial Darwinism. Had he studied the

thought of Mi l l , fo r example , he might have discovered ideas that corroborated his own theories . But, given his concept ion of ut i l i tar ianism,

h i s model of change enabled Durkheim to s i tuate i t (as wel l as Social

Darwinism) as a theory relat ing to a period of rapid transit ion and social

pathology. D urkheim argued in Soc ial Darwinian fashi on that pop ulat ion

pressure caused an increased struggle fo r existence which resulted in t ime

in the survival of the fittest . But he d id not identify the fittest with those i ndividuals or social units that max im ized their own self- i n terest or s u rvived

rabid competit ion and struggle. This entire state of affairs for him was

an aspect of transit ion and pathology. Rather, he envis ioned a process of

evolution that would eventuate in the survival of the fittest form of social structure, i . e . , the "normal" state that would cooperatively employ the social

contrib utions of all members of soc iety for the common good. The most obvious interpretat ion of Durkhei m's assert ion that "every

thing happens mechanist ica l ly" (tout se passe mecaniquement) is in terms

of a comprehensive posit ivist ic theory o f causation that excludes the pos

sible intervention of human agency and conscious effo rt or control in

the histor ica l p rocess. Here, however, one must dist inguish be tween the

passage from the normal to the pathological and the passage from the

pathological to the normal. In The Division of Labor, the assertion that "everything happens mechanistically" appeared in Durkhei m's treatment

of change from one in tegrated social system to the transitional state of

pathology. Apparently, D urkheim did be l ieve that a m aj o r and disorient

ing departure from a viably i ntegrated social order was caused init ia l ly

by impersonal, mechanist ic processes that i n their socially relevant form

were not intended. People did not choose to abandon a traditional mode

of cultural i n tegrat ion : they were fo rced out o f i t by external condit ions

such as popu lat ion pressure. Here Durkheim's ideas were s imi lar to those

of both Rousseau and Darwin.

But D urkheim was much less clear ab o u t the relat ion of mechanist ic

pro cess to other factors in the passage fro m patho logy to normality. H e

seemed to rely o n a D arwinian noti o n of "natural selection" i n a process

I 1 4 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

of evolution. And h e argued that one could not attr ibute the functions

of soc ia l inst i tut ions to the manifest intentions of socia l agents . Bu t

Durkheim never ful ly sorted o u t the interact ion i n t h e histor ical process

of such factors as intent iona l agency, un intended consequence , uncon

sc ious motivat ion, anomie , and the structure and funct ioning of inst i tut ions . S ignificant ideas he developed are that socia l consciousness arises

in response to social disorder and that soc io logy, as the most advanced

consc iousness of modern soci ety, has the task of informing meaningful

social action. How these ideas are related to the over-all understanding of

the his tor ica l process or to the more l imi ted ques t ion of the intent ional

act ion o f soc ia l and pol i t ica l agents remains a blank chapter in Durkheim's th ought .

Residual Doubts

One feature o f The Division of Labor that has puzzled many commentators i s Du rkhei m's extensive treatmen t of t h e re lat ion of The Division of Labm· to happiness . Yet th i s question was important for Durkheim in terms

ofboth the theories he opposed and the theories he defended. The idea that

the division oflabor as the handmaid of economic growth brings happiness

and is indeed the result of a conscious pursuit of happiness constituted a

favo rite theme of ut i l i tari ans and classical economists . Durkheim did not

investigate the poss ib i l i ty that the pursuit of happiness might function ideologically as a form of false consciousness. His rejection of the corre

lation between happiness and the divis ion of labor relied upon a statistical

means of testing the proposed relationship. Durkheim argued that there

was no positive index of happiness that carried methodological convicti on .

But , he observed, there was an obj ective index of col lective unhappiness :

the suicide rate. If economic progress brought happiness, the suicide rate should drop. But "on the con trary, true su ic ide , i . e . , sad su ic ide , i s in an

endemic state among civilized peoples . " G o Thus economic growth , at least

under the extremely unstable conditions which have accompanied it in

modern history, does not bring happiness . Thi s po int would be more fully

elaborated i n Suicide, which responded to the correlation of unhappiness

and suicide in The Division of Labor, D urkheim related all disruptive change

Chapter 3 The Division of Social I_abor I I 5

to anomie and saw the degree of happiness possible in l ife to b e dependent

on overcoming runaway (but not all) anomie and s imultaneously creating

solidarity in society.

Quite apparent i n the first ed i t ion of The Di11ision of Labor was

Durkheim's attempt to find a middle way between the complacency of util itarians and the moral nihilism of prophets of doom. If Durkheim at

times in the fl rst edit ion seemed to share more of the complacency of the

util itarians and classical economists, it was not because he agreed with their

idea of legitimate order, b ut because he optimisti cally bel ieved in an evo

lutionary movement of modern society toward h is own ideal of legit imate

order, however uncertain he may have been about i ts precise nature or mode of attainment. Clearly, Durkheim rejected Com te's bel ief that the divis ion of

labor necessarily entails social disorder. But he was tempted, as he so often

was, to affl rm the opposite of another theorist's view: at times he seemed to

argue that The Di11ision of Labor per se created social sol idarity.

Durkheim also wanted to distinguish his posit ion from that of Ferdinand

Tonnies , in whom he saw a theorist with an excessively negative view of modern soci ety. In fact, Durkhe im's tendent ious ideas about "pr imit ive"

societies were due less to ethnocentric noblesse oblige than to a desire to

avoid the dire conclusions of modern prophets of doom. Durkheim tended

to invert Tonnies' equations by finding in modern organic solidarity the

virtues Tonnies placed in "primi tive" Gemeinschaft (community) and to

ascribe to "primitive" mechanical sol idarity the defects Tonnies found in

modern Gese!lschafi (society) . Durkheim at points saw primitive societies as

miniature mass societies without any "organic" structure, characterized by

herd conformity and repressive punishments, and held together by bonds

which were weaker and less stable than those in modern society. 6 1 Tonnies ,

in Gemeinschafi und Gesellschafi, had stated his pos it ion in these terms:

The theory of Gesellschafi deals with the arriflcial construction of an aggregate of human be ings which superflcially resembles the Gemeinschaft insofar as the individuals live and dwell together p eacefully. However, in Gemeinschafi they remain essentially united in spite of al l separating factors, whereas i n Gesellschafi they are essentially separated in spite of all uni t ing factors. In the Gesellschaft, as contrasted with the Gemeinschafi, we find no actions that can be derived from an a priori and necessarily existing unity; no actions, therefore,


which manifest the wi l l and spirit of the unity even if performed by the individual; no actions which, insofar as they are performed by the individual , take place on behalf of those united with h im . In the Gesellschafi such actions do not ex i s t . On the contrary, he re everybody is by himself and isolated, and there exists a condit ion of tension against all others. 62

Ti:innies asserted that D urkheim's ideas of mechanical and organic soli

darity were "altogether different" (ganz und gar verschieden) from his own.63 In

an I 889 article on T i:innies' book, Durkheim, with comparable in transigence, made an apparent effort to accentuate the positive in modern society.

The po int where I separate myself from him is i n his theory of Gesellschafi. I f I h ave understood h im , Gesellschafi i s characterized by a progressive development of individual ism , whose dispersive effects the state's action could for a while prevent. It would be essentially a mechanical aggregate; everything that remained of truly collective l ife would result not from spontaneity bu t from the ent irely external impulsion of the state. In a word, this i s society as conceived by Be ntham. Now I bel ieve that the l ife in great social agglom erations i s j ust as natural as that i n l i tt le aggregates. It is not less organic or less internal . Beyond purely indiv idual movements, there is in our contemporary societies a properly collective activity which is as natura l as that of smaller societies of the past. I t i s assuredly different; i t constitutes a different type, but b etween these two species of the same genus, however diverse they may be, there is no difference of nature. To prove i t would take a book.64

T h e book was The Division of Labor. But the book remained ambiguous

about whether and how existing forms of The Division of Labor or their

d evelopmental tendencies created social and moral solidari ty. The argument

concealed a "missing l ink" i n the evolutionary chain .

Uncertainty also characterized Durkheim's treatment of modern indi

vidualism and irs relation to sol idarity. In addit ion to other aspects of the

problem, Durkheim later tried to distinguish between forms ofindividualism

compatible with solidarity and excessive, atomizing individualism or ego

ism, particularly in the economic sphere. The Division of Labor attempted

to correlate increasing social differentiat ion, u niversalistic values, and indi-

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I I 7

vidualism. But its idea of the relation of individualism to solidarity was veiled

in darkness. At times, Durkheim stressed the importance of personal dignity

and the individual choice of a function in keeping with humane values and

one's capacit ies . At other times, he seemed to argue that all inst itutional ized

or ideologically shared individualism is the egoistic expression of a self- effacing conscience collective - despite his own attempt to base sol idar i ty on

phenomena bound up with modern individual ism.

If [modern individual ism and the cult of the person] are common insofar as they are bel iefs shared by the community, they are individual in their object . I f al l wil ls are turned toward the same end, this end is n o t social . Thus individualism is in an entirely excep tional s i tuat ion in the conscience collective. I t is from society that it draws its force, b ut i t is not to society that it attaches us: i t is to o urselves. Consequently, i t does not constitute a truly social bond. This is why theorists who make this sentiment the exclusive basis of their moral doctrine may with j u stice be met with the reproach that they d issolve society. 65

Another matter left in doub t i n The Division of Labor was the rela

t ionship of differentiat ion to stratification, class formation, gendered roles ,

and structures of domination in society - and their relation, in turn, to reciprocity and sol idarity. This was a notable omission in a purportedly

general socio logy of a world in which the historical price of abundance and

"high" culture for the few had typically been the exploitation of the many.

Here Durkheim's failure to come to terms with M arx and become aware of

Weber lessened drastically the relevance of h i s socio logy to both the under

standing of historical societies and the elaboration of his own concepts of

normality and pathology. And here more than anywhere else i s a basis for

the charge that Du rkheim was a "bourgeois id ealist" whose thought d iverted

attention from the real it ies of historical soci ety. Apparently, Du rkheim did

not be l ieve that functional d ifferentiation n ecessarily involves strati£ cation

and discrimination or that the nature of a function somehow entails a d i f

ferential evaluation of roles or groups in terms of higher and lower. Bu t he

apparently d id bel ieve that all differentiated social orders were correlated

with some typ e and measure of strat ificat ion wh ich in modern society would

be based on mer i t or achievement.66


What the causes , mechanisms, consequences , o r pr inciples of this

correlat ion might be, e ither typologically or universally, was never ful ly

examined by D urkheim. Even in h i s proposed model of a normal , sol i

darist ic form of modern society, he d id not offer a sustained, searching,

and detai led enquiry into the problem of power, prest ige , and economic reward in var ious inst i tut ional spheres and in the overall soc ia l order.

Only certain e lementary ideas emerged fro m h i s discuss ions, and they

were hardly adequate to the problems ra i sed . These ideas are discussed

in the next two chapters .

Contract and Solidarity

Durkheim's tacit acceptance of Spencer's concept ion of evolut ion was

not ind i cative of h i s est imat ion, in The Division of Labor , of the thought

of the English theorist . His generally crit ical reaction to Spencer i s mos t

apparent in Book I , chapter v i i , i n which he contrasts Spencer's idea of co n tractual s o l i dari ty w i th h i s own idea of organic so l idar i ty. Th i s piv

otal chapter immediate ly precedes Durkheim's discuss ion of change from

mechanical t o organic so l idar i ty, bu t i t i n troduces the concluding sect ion

on pathological forms of The Division of Labor by br inging o ut ways i n

which development i n modern soc ie ty has no t reached a stage adequate

to serve as a funct ional b as is of so l idar ity.

For Spencer, industrial soc iety was based upon a vast cash nexus of

private contracts sanctioned by a laissez-faire pol ice s ta te . "The typical

fo rm of social relat ion would be the economic relat ion str ipped of al l

regulat ion . "67 If this k ind of market relat ionship characterized soc iety,

Durkheim reasoned, there wou ld b e l i t t le i f any sol idar i ty.

In the fact of economic exchange, the d i fferent agents remain outs ide one another, and with the terminat ion o f the operat ion each one E nds himself alone again. Consc iences are only superfl cially i n contact; they ne i ther penetrate nor adhere strongly to one another. If one gets to the bot tom of things, one wil l see that all harmony of interests conceals a confl ic t which is latent or s imply ad journed . For where interest reigns a lone , there is noth ing to restrain egoism, and each ego E nds itself on a warl ike foot ing with a l l others . Any

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I I 9

truce to this eternal antagonism cannot b e long-range. Indeed, i n terest i s the least constant of al l things in the wor ld . Today i t is in my interest to unite with you . Tomorrow the same reason wi l l make me your enemy. 68

Thus Ti:innies ' cr i t ique , excluded by the fron t door , seemed to gain

entry by the b ack. D urkheim's own pos i t ion was summed up in the as

sert ion that "not everything is contractual in the contract ."69 D u rkhe im

meant that the contract cou ld not b e reduced to ad hoc acts o f wi l l among

private part ies , b u t that i t presupposed a framework of norms and laws

upheld and sanct ioned by soc ia l agencies. As examples , he c i ted the re

quirements of the French Code , which fo rbade the making of contracts

by an incompetent and contracts concerning things which could no t b e

so ld o r involving i l l ic i t deal ings. There were also pos i tive obl igat ions i n

contract law, fo r instance those enabl ing a j u dge t o grant a delay t o a

debtor under certain condi t ions .

The crucial substant ive quest ion , however, was whether and t o what ex tent the i n terven t i o n of the s tate or o ther soc ia l agenc ies was restr icted

to p o lice funct ions and the enforcement of the rules of the game in a

profl t-oriented market economy. Were the condit ions of organic sol idar

ity fulfl l l ed by the pursu i t of self- interest in market re lat ionships as long

as one did not break the law (thro ugh theft, fraud , and so on)? In o ther

words, was D urkheim a t b es t scor ing a debater's po int s against Spencer by present ing an academic re interpretat ion of the same facts , o r was h e

arguing that so l idarity in society required structural bases very d ifferent

fro m those envisaged by Spencer and the economists?

At this j uncture of the argument, Durkhe im began to make crit ical

comments and to l ay down general pr inc ip les which took him far b eyon d

legal procedures o r the " formal" freedom o f contract ing part ies and in to

substantive considerat ions of social j ust ice . Th i s prerequis i te of so l idar i ty

in soc iety cannot be conceived as the automat ic resultant of market forces

or even as a poss ib le achievement of a Keynesian welfare state . Du rkheim's

remarks imp ly that b as ic structural reform i s required to provide the

ground work of so l idarity in society.

No doubt , when men unite by contract, i t i s because s imple o r complex divis ion oflabor has made them need one another. But for them


to cooperate harmoniously, it is not sufficient for them to enter into relations nor even to feel the state o f mutual dependence i n which they find themselves. I t is further necessary that the conditions of this cooperation be fixed fo r the entire duration of their relat ionship. I t i s necessary that the duties and rights of each be d efined, not only in view of the s ituat ion as i t presents itself at the moment of contract, but in prevision of circumstances which may develop and modify it . Indeed, i t is necessary not to forget that i f the division of labor makes i nterests interdependent, it does not confound them; i t l eaves them dis t inct and r iva l . . . . Each contract ing party, whi le in need of the other, seeks to obtain what he needs at the lowest pr ice , that i s , to acquire the most rights poss ib le in return for the fewest obligations poss ib le . 7°

For so l idarity to be created in this context, the conscience collective re

lating differentiated funct ions would have to stipulate institutional norms

that would establ ish and sanction relational conditions of reciprocity. Only

the generally accepted norm could locate the "middle term between the

rivalry of interests and their sol idarity. " Hence Durkheim concluded that

"there is only a d i fference of degree between the law which regulates con

tractual ob l igations and [ t he laws] which fix other social duties of citizens . "

And he asked whether the absence of effective socia l control of key sectors

of the economy "was no t the effect of a morbid state" of society.7 1

S ignificantly, however, Durkheim realized that regulative norms would

not eliminate al l conflict i n society. Although he did not devote adequate

attention to the problem of conflict in its various fo rms and functions, he did see that confl ic t in itself was not "path o l ogical" a nd that, w i t h i n l i m i ts,

i t might be conducive to "normal" integrati on . "Normal" social o rder, he

be l ieved, was not static equ i l ibr ium. Confl ict was one component of social

dynamics. The pathological began only when confl ict was unregulated.

To what extent confl ict should be regulated in order to arrive a t a "middle

term" - a normative golden mean or compromise formation that could

not be conflated with a status quo juste milieu - was a d ifficu l t quest ion

Durkheim never fully answered. But , in general , Mauss's term "amiable

rivalry" wel l expressed Durkheim's i d e a .

Durkheim went on to reject the myth o f freedom of contract and to

pose the problem of the relation between bargaining positions in society and

Chapter 3 77u Division of Social labor I 2 I

the social regulation of contract. For Spencer, the object of contract was to

ensure that the worker received the equivalent of the outlay his work cost

him. Durkheim believed that contract could never fill such a role without contracts "being much more closely regulated than they are today." Classical

economists replied that the law of supply and demand would automatically re-establish economic equilibrium. Durkheim countered that this view

neglected the social fact that workers living in poverty could not move

on to higher paying jobs. Even for classes with greater mobility, changes

of occupation took time. "In the meanwhile, unjust contracts which are

antisocial by definition have been executed with the complicity of society,

and, when equilibrium has been established at one point, there is no reason for its not breaking up at another."72

In one of his very first articles, Durkheim was even more explicit about

the myth of equating formal legal freedom with real contractual freedom in society:

What can the poor worker reduced to his own resources do against the rich and powerful boss, and is there not a palpable and cruel irony in assimilating these two forces which are so manifestly unequal? If they enter into combat, is it not clear that the second will always and without difficulty crush the first? What does such a liberty amount to, and does not the economist who contents himself with it become guilty of taking the word for the thing?73

In the discussion of contract and organic solidarity in The Division of

Labor, Durkheim went on to draw a very radical conclusion from the idea

of social justice:

If a contract is not just, it is destitute of all authority. In any case,

the role of society cannot be to reduce itself to the passive execu

tion of contracts. It must also determine under what conditions they are executable and, if necessary, restore them to their normal form. The agreement of parties cannot render just a clause which in itself is unjust, and there are rules of justice whose violation social justice must prevent, even if it has been consented to by the interested parties.74


Thus even when society depended most ful ly o n The Division of Labor, I t could not resolve itself into "a dust of j uxtaposed atoms" having only

"exterior and passing contacts" with one another. According to Durkheim,

people cannot l ive together "without mutual understanding and, conse

quently, without becoming bound to one another in a strong and durable manner. All soci ety is a moral society . . . . The individual is not sufficient

unto himself."75

Modern Social Pathology

Durkheim's reflections on contract were continued in his concluding

section on pathological forms of the division of labor. In the pathological state , the divis ion of labor did no t funct ion to create sol idar i ty but, on th e

contrary, was related to social crisis and disease. B io logy, for Durkheim,

was the science with the greatest interest for sociology, although he always

made clear that this interest was l imited to the metaphors and analogies that

b iology might provid e . The two sets of concepts with bio logical analogues

that had greatest importance for sociology were, of course, the not ions of

structure and function and the distinction between the normal and the pathological . Aside fro m his general methodological be l i ef t h at in socio l

ogy as in b io logy the study of the pathological was complementary to the

study of the normal , Durkheim turned to the study of p athology for the

specific reason that historically the divis ion of labor "would not have been

the object of such grave accusations if i t really did not deviate more or less

from the normal state . " 7 6 Thus, despite the apparent conviction in his first major work tha t soc i ety in time would "mechanist i cally" tend to assume

a normal or in tegrated form, Durkheim did recognize that this condit ion

had not yet been reached.

The pathological forms Durkheim treated were the anomie, the forced,

and what might be termed the alienated, division oflabor. It is significant that

his core concept of anomie made its first appearance in his earliest work and in a context i n t imately related to i l legit imate constraint or explo i tative struc

tures. In fact, the concept of anomie, which was to receive its fu l l theoretical

development in Suicide, already took on in The Division of Labor features of

what Marx had conceived as structural contradictions in society.


Durkheim b egan his discussion of the anomie division of!abor by giving

specific cases, some of which he also included in Suicide: "The fi rst case of

this genus is furnished by industrial or commercial crises, by bankruptcies ,

which are so many partial ruptures of organic sol idarity; they bear witness

to the fact that at certain points of the organism, certain social functions are not adjusted to one another ." Instead of decreasing with the d iv is ion

of l abor, industr ia l and commercial crises had increased with its advance.

Durkheim recognized, however, that crises could not be unequivocally

correlated with economic growth in general, for enterprises had become

concentrated to a greater degree than they had mult ipl ied . Indeed, he went

on to observe that "small industry, where labor is less divided, offers the spectacle of a re lat ive harmony between worker and boss ; i t i s only in b ig

industry that conflicts are in a b i tter state ."77 Anomie in b ig industry, ac

cording to Durkheim, was due to an absence of functional coordination. He

d id not consider the poss ibi l ity that impersonal bureaucratic organizations

which minutely coordinated functions and roles on an i nstrumental and

formally rat ional level might produce anomie on the level of substantive

i r ra t iona l ity by denying or marginal i z ing face-to-face relat ions and foste r i ng

mean i ngless human relationships.

Durkheim found a "more striking" case of anomie in the confl ict of

labor and capital . "To the extent that industrial functions become more

specialized, so far from solidarity increasing, the struggle becomes more

lively."78 Relying on Emile Levasseur's Les Classes ouvrieres en France jusqua Ia Revolution ("The Working Classes i n France up to the Revolut ion ," 1 8 59 ) , Durkheim observed that before the fifteenth century conflicts had been

i n frequent , largely becau se master and apprent ice were almost equals . In

many metiers, the apprentice could look forward to becoming a master in

his turn . Beginning with the fifteenth century, condit ions b egan to change,

but confl icts remained restricted to matters bearing on specific grievances.

With the coming of b i g i n dustry in the seventeenth century, the third stage i n the process of growing class conflict b rought the separat i on of worker

and boss , the genes i s of two a l ien "races" in the fa ctor ies , and the b i rth of

revolutionary ideologies .

After this br ief but i l luminating s l ice of history, Durkheim enunciated

his own idea of the close relat ionship between anomie and exploitat ion.

In a sense , socia l disorder derived bo th from the absence of the r ight kind


of regulation and the presence of the wrong kind o f regulation. More

speciflcal!y, exploitat ion could b e seen as an e lement in a broader fl eld

of anomie , for i t involved an irrational contradict ion be tween the condi

tion or inst i tut ional pos i t ion of a group and its values and needs, i f not

the values and needs of society as a whole . A t th i s po int in the argument,

Durkhei m's faith in a "mechanistic" trend over time toward integration

began to falter ; at most, he be l ieved that i ntegrati on would be achieved only

in a p ost-revo lut ionary phase of social pathology. In a pre-revolutionary

social context, "mechanistic" and impersonal processes would not be forces

for integrat ion and sol idarity.

There i s , however, one case where anomie can be produced even though contiguity [among functions] i s sufflci ent . I t i s when the necessary regulat ion can be established only at the price of transformations of which the social structure i s no longer capable : because the plasticity of societ ies i s not indefl nit e . When i t is at its end, i t may make imposs ible even necessary changes.79

Thus, according to Durkhe im, society might E nd itself in a structural

bind in which a histor ical conjunct ion of anomie and exploitative insti

tutions would require revo lut ion for possible structural transformat ion .

Durkheim never be l i eved that in the modern context v io lent apocalypse

was necessary fo r structural reform - he never considered it sufflcient i n

a n y context - b u t he did increasingly see the need for basic structural

change effected through arduous, i f i l l-defined, effort.

By this point in the argument, the full range of Durkhe im's concept of

anomie , which receives fuller exposition in Suicide, becomes more evident.

In the E rst ed i t ion of The Division of Labor, Durkheim did provide suf

flcient grounds for rejecting any attempt s imply to ident ify anomie with

a total absence of inst i tut ions , norms, or values - a s i tuat ion which in

Du rkheim's usage of the term "anomie" constitu ted only an extreme case.

The Durkheimian defl nition of "anomie" referred to the absence of gen

eral ly accepted limiting norms. Thus contradictions in the social system,

including normative contradictions, were, in D urkheim's sense, anomie

because there was no norm of a h igher order t o resolve the structural

problems that they caused. And inst i tut ions or ideo logies might be anomie i n the sense t h at they i m posed limitless asser t ion or expans i on , which for


Durkheim was invariably bound up with substantive irrat ional i ty in the

larger soci ety. One cannot b egin to understand the full extent to which

Durkheim had a not ion of substantive reason and the ways in which

his concept of social pathology has o ften been distorted if one does not

understand the scope and implicat ions of h i s concept of anomie and the importance fo r h im of an institutionally based sense of legit imate l imits

in society.

I n The Division of Labor, as i n Suicide, Durkheim treated as anomie

an inst i tut ional system which structurally imposed l imi tless , maximizing

activity upon members of society: a profit-oriented market economy. His

ideas on the anomie "anarchy of the market" coincided with those of both Comte and Marx , who i n th is circumscribed respect were in agreement .

Durkhe im wrote : 'Today there are no longer ru le s which fix the number

of economic enterprises and, i n each branch of industry, product ion i s not

regulated i n a way that m akes i t remain at the level of consumption . . . . This

lack of regulation does not permit a regular harmony of funct ions . " 8 0

Although he prudent ly refrained from making prescriptive recommendations on the necessity of social control for integrati on and solidarity,

Durkheim did go on to assert that the economists' idea of the re-establishment

of economic equil ibrium through the free play of market forces ignored the

social havoc wrought by the market. "The economists demonstrate, it i s true,

that this harmony becomes re-established by itself when it i s necessary, thanks

to the rise or fall of prices which, according to needs, stimulates or slows

down production. But in any case it re-establishes itself in this way only after ruptures of equil ibrium and more or less prolonged troubles . " 8 1

Du rkheim found another case of anomie in modern society in the lack

of coordination among specialized disciplines: "Science, which is fragmented

into a multitude of detailed studies which do not fi t together, no longer forms

a sol idary whole. What manifests best this absence of concert and unity i s

the widespread theory that each particular science has an absolute value. "82 Hence Durkheim did not endorse the tendency toward the autonom ization

of differentiated spheres of activity in modern society. The integration of

science and of society were companion goals of his endeavor. And his l ine

of thought implies that structural change and cultural reorientation are the

prerequisites for making any i nterdisciplinary study of modern society more

than a large-scale investigation of fragmentation, partial truths, and internal


inconsistencies. Without such change, the university itself threatened to be

a rather vacuous idea - an i nsubstantial catch-all for a series of expansive

microcosms gravi tating in their own orbits .

Next Durkheim turned to the "constrained" ( in the sense of "forced")

division of labor; the discussion both resumed his enquiry into contract and overlapped with his treatment of anomie. He began with a pregnant obser

vation that reveals his ful l awareness that certain types of laws or institutional

norms might abet confl ict, disorder, and malaise in society.

It is not sufficient t h at there be rules , however, because sometimes the ru les themselves are the causes of evil. This is what occurs in class wars. The institution of classes [apparently intended here to signifY orders or estates] or of castes constitutes an organization of The Division of Labor, and it is a strictly regulated organization; i t i s , nevertheless, a frequent cause of dissensi ons . The lower classes, not sat isfied, or no longer satisfl ed, with the role which custom or law has devo lved upon them, aspire to dispossess those who are exercising these functions. From this there arise civil wars, which result from the manner in which labor is distributed.s3

Thus the prob lem of soc i a l confl ict was not ent i re ly ignored in

Durkheim's first major work. In a d i rect criticism ofTarde's theory of imi

tation, Durkheim recognized that ris ing expectations might be involved i n

the genesis o f social confl ict, perhaps a s one component of a more compre

hensive process of structural change and social uprooting. His ideas on this

subject were similar to Vilf redo Pareto's theory of the "circulation of e l i tes ."

Imitat ion of one class by another takes place only if there are "predisposing

grounds . " "For needs to spread from one class to another, it is necessary that

differences which originally separated the classes should have disappeared

or diminished. It i s necessary, through changes produced in soci ety, that

some become competent in functions which formerly were beyond them,

whi le others lose their original superiority."84 Once a lower class perceived

that opportunit ies fo r its growing ab i l i ty to exercise certain functions were

c losed off, it was m otivated to assert its prerogatives, if need be through

revolutionary action.

Durkheim dist inguished sharply b etween constraint, in the sense of

obligation rooted in commitment to legitimate norms, and pathological


constraint based upon pure power and the real ity or threat of force and vio

lence. "If the commitment which I have torn fro m someone by threatening

him with death is morally and legally null , how could it be valid if, in order

to obtain it , I have profited from a s i tuat ion of which I was not the cause,

i t is true, bu t which puts someone else under the necessity of yielding to me or dying? "s s Durkheim bel ieved that in modern society the creation of

sol idarity depended upon the abol i t ion of il legitimate constraint both i n

j ob opportunit ies and in the interrelations o f groups and functions. On the

level of j ob opportunity, the democratic values of modern society enjoined a

more complete passage from inheri ted status to the recognit ion of equality

of opportunity and achievement. In an article on Albert Schaeffle written eight years before the publication of The Division of Labor, Durkhe im was

quite clear about the need fo r one basic type o f individual l ib erty in modern

society:

I f by these words [ " i ndividual l i b erty"] one means the faculty of violating the principle of causal ity, of withd rawing from al l social mil ieus in order to posit oneself as an absolute, there is no merit in sacrifi cing i t . I t i s a ster i le independence; i t i s the plague of al l moral ity. The one thing which must be upheld is the right to choose among al l funct ions the one which we j udge to be the most in accord with our nature.86

In The Division of Labor, the idea of equality of opportunity as a func

tional prerequisite of integration in modern society led Durkheim to a very

radical conclusion that he would later expand and modifY.

If one class in society is obliged, in order to live, to have its services accepted at any price, while another class can do without them, thanks to the resources i t controls - not necessarily because of some social superiority - the second unjustly imposes its law upon the first. In other words, there cannot be rich and poor from birth without there being unjust contracts.87

True equality of opportunity, unj ustly inhibited by existing forms offamil ia l

inher i tance of wealth, was for D urkheim made all the more necessary by

the col lapse o f rel igious legit imation of the social order. The humanist ic


concept ion o f socia l structure as a purely human creation la id it open

to the c la ims of people . As an entirely human work , " i t could no longer

oppose itself to human demands ." This circumstance made the reconcil i

at ion of The Division of Labor with an " idea l of spontaneity" all the more

imperat ive . 88 Equal i ty of opportuni ty was the first functional prerequisite of j ust contract and sol idarity in modern soci ety. But i t was also necessary

"to relate functions to one another ."8 9 This was poss ib le only i f f unctiona l

contr ibut ions were fl exibly l imited and adjusted to one another by shared

norn1s .

Durkheim's concept of achievement cannot be identified with a gener

al ized performance principle in society. Limitless competit ive achieving

was fo r h i m a consp i cuous case of ano m ie . Ach ievemen t in Durkhe im 's

"normal" society had the very classical meaning of fulfi ll ing oneself i n

ways complementary to the se lf-fulfi l lment of others . Limitless striving

would be restricted to a marginal aspect of the average personal i ty and to

marginal groups of exceptional individuals . This l ine of argument again

brought Durkheim face to face with the need fo r a conscience collective in

modern society.

The last pathological form of The Division of Labor was left unnamed

by Durkheim. But the concept of al ienat ion expresses h i s bas ic idea . This

pathological form was exemplifi ed in the extreme divis ion oflabor in which

funct ions "were distr ibuted in such a way that they did not offer suffi cient

matter for the activity of indiv iduals . " Here Durkheim took yet another

step away fro m the economists and what has become known as Taylorism or Fordism. In so doing, he did not content himself with the discovery of

a "human factor" among the resou rces mobil ized by the process of pro

duction. His conception of the normal state of the divis ion of labor was

directly oriented to the human worker rather than the economic process .

The divis ion o f labor imposed duties i f, and only if , it provided the means

for an in-depth development of the self compat ib le wi th reciprocity wi th others . " H owever one m ay represent the mora l idea l , " Durkhe im remarks,

"one cannot remain indifferent to a degradation of human nature. If mo

ral ity has as its goal the perfect ion of the individual , i t cannot permit the

indiv idual to be ru ined to such a degree ; i f i t has society as i ts end , i t can

not let the very source of mora l lif e stagnate: fo r the evil does not menace

economic functions a lone , but all soc ia l funct ions , however elevated they


may be . "90 Thus D urkheim's indictment of the d i lettantism of Renais

sance man , which he correlated with undemocrat ic forms of el i t ism, was

complemented by an equally severe indictment o f extreme specia l ization.

M o reover, h e fu lly recognized that improving leisure-t ime activit ies and

the level of general culture did not resolve the problem of making jobs meaningfu l . "The divis ion of labor does no t change i t s nature b ecause i t

i s preceded b y general culture . No doubt i t is good for the worker to be

ab le to interest h imse lf i n art, l i terature, e tc . But i t is no l e s s bad fo r h im

to be treated a l l day l ong l ike a mach in e . " 9 1

By t h i s po int , i t should b e obvious where the "missing l ink" between

the divis ion of labor and sol idarity was to be found : in the specifically soc iologica l issue of the institutional organization of the d iv is ion of labor

with respect to legitimate, l imiting norms and substantive values, as well

as the historical processes which might lead to the genesis of a desirable

state of society. It was not the divis ion o f labor per se which created either

sol idar ity or disorder, bu t the nature of the division of labor and the way

in which it was inst i tut ionally organized. Durkhe im's d i d not in h i s first m aj o r work an alyze closely ex i s t ing

social real it ies and the ways in which they might be transformed to make

society more livab l e . He o ffered no systematic investigation of the state,

bureaucracy as an inst i tut ional form, the army, the economy, educat ion,

the fam i ly, gender, rel ig ion, exist ing occupat ions , and their i n terrelations

in society as a whole. His treatment of the economy was confined to the

specific features that concerned him most from a moral point of view. He did not, for example, treat capitalism as an institutional system and attempt

to trace its stages of development or project its probable course. Nor did he

try to apply his concepts of normality and pathology in a consistent appre

c iat ion and critique of exist ing realit ies . I t was, to some extent, annoyance

at D urkheim's fai lure to investigate more intensively existing social forces

and their concrete effects on the lives of human be ings that prompted his own disc i p l e Ce les t in Bougie to observe i n a 1 90 1 art icle, "Theories of

the Div i s ion o f Labor , " in the Annee sociologique i tself:

One can indeed fear that the div is ion of labor , as i t becomes perfected, tends in certain respects to isolate individuals and make i llusory the interrelations formerly bel ieved to be effective in creating


consensus among peop le . When relations between produ cers and consumers, or entrepreneurs and workers, remain direct and manto-man, then one might b elieve that special izat ion brings with it certain associat ions of ideas and sent iments which natura l ly i n c l i n e those whom i t brings i n contact t o respect on e another. Bu t when these relations become abstract, when some work for others wi thout be ing i n contact with o r see ing one another, can the moral effect be the same? Is no t one of the consequences of the role of money i n our soc iet ies the replacement almost everywhere o f concrete, l iving, and human relationships by im persona l and abstract relations? . . . To the extent that the division of labor is responsible fo r the development of o ur entire commercial system, one can say that it makes habi tual the tendency no longer to see men above things, [but ] to treat men as things.92

Durkheim's own discussion of anomie, fo rced, and alienated forms of

the division of labor - despite i ts extreme general ity and hypothetical

air - did imply the necessity of bas ic structural reforms b efore sol idarity

cou ld b e created in modern soc iety. Like all of Durkheim's major works,

The Di11ision of Labor ended wi th a call to act ion :

We fee l on ly too m uch how labor ious a task it i s to bu i ld th i s society where each indiv idua l wi l l have the p lace h e mer i t s , wi l l be rewarded as he deserves, and where everybody, consequently, wi l l spontaneously work for the good of each and al l . . . . I t has been sa id wi th j ust ice that moral ity - and b y th i s must be understood not only moral doctrines b ut customs - is going through a real cr is i s . What precedes can h e l p us to unders tand t h e nature and causes o f this s ick condit ion . Profo u nd changes have been prod u ced i n the structure of our societ ies i n a very short t ime . . . . The functions which have been disrupted in the course o f the upheaval have not had t ime to ad jus t themselves to one another ; t h e new l i fe which has emerged so suddenly has no t been ab l e to b e co m e com pletely organized, and above a l l , it has n o t been organized in a way t h at satisfies the need for j u stice which has grown more ardent in ou r hearts . I f this i s so , th e remedy for the evi l is not t o seek the revival of traditions and pract ices which , no longer corresponding to present condit ions of soc iety, can l ive only an art ificia l , false life. What we m ust do is br ing th i s a nom i e to an e nd and fi n d the means for

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial labor I 3 I

making the organs which are st i l l wasting themselves in discordant movements concur harmoniously . . . . In a word, our fi rst duty i s to create a moral i ty . . . . What refl ection can and must do is mark the goal that must b e attained. That is what we h ave tr ied to do . 9 3

Hence , the requirement for so l idarity was to create a moral ity not in

the abstract or purely discursively but with respect to institut ional practices

and forms of social relation. What social and polit ical agents might respond to this call was a question not raised, much less answered, by Durkheim.

But Durkheim seemed to conclu de , however halt ingly, that community

and differentiated structure were complementary elements o f soc iety and

culture that a l l normal types of society would h ave to integrate in their

own spec ifl c ways.

J 32 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosopher

Notes

1 . Robert Nisbet, ed. , Emile Durkheim (Englewood Cliffs , N.J . : Prentice Hall , 1 965 ) , p . 30 .

2 . The Structure of Social Action: A Study in Social Theory (first pub. 1 937 ; Glencoe, I l l . : Free Press, 1 949) , p . 308 .

3 . Pragmatisme et sociologie (Paris: Librairie Philosophique J . Vrin), 1 955 . 4 . George Lichtheim, Origins of Socialism (New York: Praeger, 1 968) , p . 56 . 5 . Preface to 1 st ed. , De La Division du travail social (7th ed . ; Paris: Presses

U niversitaires de France, 1 960 ), p. xl i i i . 6 . Raymond Lenoir, "L'Oeuvre sociologique d'Emile Durkheim , " Europe, XXII

( 1 930 ) , 294. 7. Celestin Bougie, ibid. , p . 2 8 1 . 8 . Bougie, ibid. 9 . Marcel Mauss, I n trod. , 1 st ed. , Emile Durkheim, L e Socialisme; i n Socialism,

trans. Charlotte Sattler (New York: Collier Books , 1 9 58 ) , p. 34 . 1 0 . Division d u travail social, p . 393 . 1 1 . Division du travail social, p . 393 . 1 2 . Les Regles de la methode sociologique ( 1 5th ed. ; Paris: Presses U niversitaires de

France, 1 963 ) , p . 82 . 1 3 . Ibid. , p. 83 . 14 . Structure and Function in Primitive Societies (London: Cohen & West, 1 9 6 1 ) ,

p . 1 29 . 1 5 . Division du travail social, p . 46. 1 6. Ibid. , p . xl i i . 1 7 . Ibid. , p. 29. 1 8 . Le Suicide (first pub. 1 897; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 9 60) , p .

426 . 1 9. Marcel Mauss, " In Memoriam: COeuvre inedite de Durkheim et de ses col

laborateurs," Amu!e sociologique, n . s . , 1 ( 1 923 ) , 9. 2 0 . L'Education morale (first pub. 1 92 5 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France,

1 963 ) , p. 1 3 9 . 2 1 . Ibid. , p. 1 47. 22. Regles de fa methode sociologique, pp. 7 1 -72 . 23 . Ibid. , p. 70 . 24 . Ibid. , p . 68 . 25 . Le�ons de sociologie (Paris: Presses Universitai res de France, 1 960) , p . 1 42 . 26 . Mauss, " In Memoriam," p . 1 2 . 27. Edwin Hardin Sutherland, White Collar Crime (New York: Dryden Press, 1 949).

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial rabor 133

28 . The Human Sciences and Philosophy, trans. Hayden V. White and Robert Anchor (f rst pub . 1 966; London: Cape Editions, 1 969) , p. 3 8 .

2 9 . Ibid. , p p . 3 8 , 40. 3 0 . "Crime et sante sociale," Revue philosophique, XXX ( 1 8 95) , 520-5 2 1 . 3 1 . Sigmund Freud, Civilization and Its Discontents (Garden City, N .Y. : Double-

day Anchor Books, 1 958 ) , p. 90 . 32 . A mu!e sociologique, IV ( 1 899- 1 900 ) , 65-95 . 33 . Ibid. , p. 70 . 34 . Education morale, p. 1 54. 3 5 . Marcel Mauss, review of\'V: H . Rivers, The Todas, in Annee sociologique, XI

( 1 906- 1 909) , 3 1 4. 36 . Review of S.-R. Steinmetz, "Das Verhaeltniss zwischen Eltern and Kindem

bei den Naturvoelken , " in Annee sociologique, I I I ( 1 898- 1 8 9 9 ) , 446. 37. Education morale, pp. 1 64- 1 65 . 3 8 . Ibid. , p. 1 6 1 . 39 . Division du travail social, pp. 1 49ff. 40 . Ibid. , p. 1 50 . 4 1 . Ibid. 42. "Sociologie et sciences sociales , " Revue philosophique, LV ( 1 903 ) , 477-478. 43. Pragmatisme et sociologic, pp. 1 9 1 - 1 92 . 44. Marcel Mauss, The G�ft, trans. Ian Cunnison (frst pub. 1 925 ; New York:

Norton, 1 967) . 45. Ibid. , p. 7 1 . 46 . Ibid. , p. 70 . 47. Ibid. , p. 1 . Mauss related the study of total social phenomena to a "holistic"

methodology conceived in terms reminiscent ofHegel: "We are dealing then with something more than a set of themes, more than institutional elements, more than institutions, more even than systems of institutions divisible into legal, economic, religious and other parts. We are concerned with 'wholes, ' with systems in their entirety . . . . I t is only by considering them as wholes that we have been able to see their essence, their operation and their living aspect, and to catch the fleeting moment when the society and its members take emotional stock of themselves and their situation as regards others . . . . H i s torians believe and justly resent the fact that sociologists make too many abstractions and separate unduly the various elements of society . . . . Whereas formerly sociologists were obliged to analyse and abstract rather too much, they should now fo rce themselves to reconstitute the whole . . . . The study of the concrete, which is the study of the whole, i s made more readily, is more interesting and furnishes more explanations in the sphere of sociology, than the study of the abstract" (pp. 77-78 ) . Mauss's discussion of the foit social


total, however, often seemed to lead more in the direction of apprehending the complex, overdetermined, and hybridized - rather than totalized - nature of certain "concrete" social and cultural phenomena or processes.

48 . Ibid. , pp. 73-74. 49. Ibid. , p. 67. 50. La Pensr!e sauvage (Paris : Plan, 1 962 ) , pp. 352-353 . 5 1 . Claude Levi-Strauss, "The Family, " i n H. Shapiro, ed . , Man, Culture, and So

ciety (frst pub. 1 956 ; New York: Oxford University Press, 1 96 0 ) , p. 277. 52. Le Totr!misme aujourd'hui (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 962) , pp.

1 27 - 1 2 8 . 53 . Claude Levi-Strauss, "Ler;:on inaugurale , " Jan. 5 , 1 960 , College de France,

No. 3 1 , pp. 43-44. 54 . Victor Turner, The Ritual Process (Chicago: Aldine, 1 969) . 55 . Ibid. , p. 1 27. 56 . Ibid. , p . 1 2 8 . 5 7 . Ibid. , p . 1 2 5 . 58 . Herbert Spencer, First Principles (New York: Appleton, 1 864) , p. 407. 59. Quoted i n Gilbert Highet, The Art ofleaching (New York: Knopf, 1 954) , p.

207. 60. Division du travail social, p . 226. 6 1 . Ibid. , p . 1 20 . 62 . Ferdinand Ti:innies, Community and Society, Charles Loomis, trans. and ed.

(New York: Harper Torch books, 1 963) , p . 64. 6 3 . Quoted in Harry Alpert, Emile Durkheim and His Sociology (f rst pub. 1 939 ;

New York: Russell & Russell, 1 9 6 1 ) , p . 1 8 5 . 64 . Review ofTi:innies, Gemeinschafi and Geseflrchafi, Revue philosophique, X). I I

( 1 889 ) , 42 1 . 6 5 . Division du travail social, p. 1 47. 66. See Durkheim's review of Celestin Bougie's Essais sur le regime des castes

(Paris: Alcan, 1 908 ) , in Annee sociologique, Xl ( I 906- 1 909 ) , pp. 384-387. One of Durkheim' s basic points i n this review is that hierarchy is not due to the division of labor itself but , in castes, to a specific sort of ritual principle. Bougie had analyzed castes in terms of a combination of heredi tary divis ion of labor, hierarchical organ ization, ritual repuls ion, and endogamy. For a more extensive structural analysis of hierarchy, see Louis Dumont, Homo hierarchicus (Paris: Gallimard, 1 966) . See also the course given by Roger Bastide, "Formes elementaires de Ia stratifcation sociale," Centre de Documentation U niversitaire, Paris. Bas tide observes that even in "primitive" societies where there is no signifcant stratifcation among groups, there is always stratifcat ion among individuals on the basis of performance. In terestingly enough,

Chapter 3 The Division ofSocial rabor 135

Bastide retains the general neo-Kantian frame of reference of the Durkheim school, but he argues that "the fault of Kant was to base his thought upon a particular culture, i . e . , that of bourgeois and puritan German society, in order to disengage the a priori form of the moral law" (p . 83 ) . Bastide, i n m y opinion, makes too much of intimations of stratification in The Division of Labor. True, Durkheim spoke of the central state in organic solidarity, b u t he always conceived of it in a democratic form that involved a highly specialized type of stratification. And Durkheim had little to say about socioprofessional hierarchy. Bastide, moreover, observes that Levi-Strauss " is in the process of rewri ting the Critique of Pure Reason'' (p . 82) , but he fails to notice that Levi-Strauss is of ten much closer to the Critique of judgment in his emphasis upon the centrality of aesthetics and perception. But Bast ide is to the point in calling for a continuation o f Durkheim's work of rewriting the Critique of Practical Reason in a way that would be less ethnocentric and genuinely comparative, focus upon values and the process of evaluating, and concentrate upon entire societies instead ofanalytically abstracted structures detached from history.

67. Division du travail social, p. 1 8 0 . 68 . !bid. , p . 1 8 1 . 69. !bid. , p. 1 89. 70. Ibid. , pp. 1 90- 1 9 1 . 7 1 . Ibid. , pp. 1 9 1 , 1 93 . 72 . Ibid. , pp . 1 94- 1 95 . 73 . Revue philosophique, XXII ( 1 886) , 73 . 7 4. Division du travail social, p . 1 94 . 75 . Ibid. , p. 207. 76. !bid. , p. 8 . 77. Ibid. , pp. 344, 346. 78 . !bid. , p. 345. 79. Ibid. , p. 3 6 1 n . 8 0 . !bid. , p . 3 5 8 . 8 1 . Ibid. , pp. 358-359 . 8 2 . Ibid. , p . 347. 8 3 . Ibid. , p. 367. 84. Ibid. , pp. 368-369. 8 5 . Ibid. , p. 376. 86 . "Albert SchaefHe," Revue philosophique, I ( 1 88 5 ) , 8 8 . 8 7 . Division du travail social, p . 3 7 8 . 8 8 . !bid. , p . 347. 89. Ibid. , p. 374.


9 0 . Ibid. , pp . 3 8 3 , 3 6 3 . 9 1 . Ibid. , p . 364. 92. IV ( 1 90 1 - 1 9 02) , 1 06- 1 07 . 9 3 . Division du travail social, p p . 404-406.

4

Suicide and Solidarity

There is on�y one truly serious philosophical problem: suicide. To judge that life

is or is not worth living is to answer the fimdamental question o [philosophy. - Albert Camus, Le Mythe de Sisyphe

In a coherent and animated society, there is from all to each and from each to all a continual exchange of ideas and sentiments - something like a mutual moral support - which makes the individual, imtead of being reduced to his

own forces alone, participate in the collective energy and find in it sustenance for his own lifo when he is spiritual& exhausted.

- Suicide

The Object and Limitations of Suicide

An obvious difference separated Suicide from The Division of Labor. The Division of Labor b egan with concepts. Suicide began with a concrete

problem that was conceived as an avenue of approach to the understanding

of soci ety and culture as a whole. This sh ift in focus did much to dissipate the air of detached abstraction that hung like a pall over Durkhe im's first

major work.

Another significant difference was the direct emphasis on social pa

thology in modern society and the clearer conception of the necessity and

direction of structural change to achieve legitimate social order. Suic ide was

of primary i n terest to Durkheim, not as an isolated tragedy in the lives of

discrete ind iv iduals , but as an i ndex of a more w idespread state of pathol

ogy in society as a whole. Along with other symptoms of modern social

pathology, su ic ide , when in terpreted sociologically, pointed to basic causes

of disorder and disorientation which revealed the relation of personal crisis

to collective malaise .


And more clearly than i n The Division of Labor, Durkheim showed

awareness of the value and l imi tations of individual ism in society. Excessive

individualism was symptomatic of social d is integrat ion. Bu t in the normal

state of modern soc ie ty, individual rights would be protected in a manner

that would not entail self-defeating, atomizing extremes. Underlying the differences between the two works, however, were conti

nuities and indications ofless significant developments in Durkheim's ideas.

The fo cus of Du rkheim's analysis remained the relation of self and soci ety.

And the root principle of organization - methodological and normative

at the same t ime - was the distinction be tween normality and patho logy

in soc iety. The attack upon uti l i tarianism continued. And it was more obviously conjo ined w i th the rej ection of violently apocalyptic soc ia l i sm. The

selection of the problem of suicide itself seems to indicate that for Durkheim

the greatest internal threat to the stability of modern societies was disinte

gration, not with a bang but a whim per. The higher suicide rate among the

socially privileged (managers, members of the l ib eral professions) indicated

for him that al l segments of modern society had a real existential interest i n fundamental change . Indeed , t h e anom ie absence of meaning i n experience

had special relevance for privileged groups that were l iberated from economic

need and from the incentive to carry on provided by the desire for affluence.

With the penchant for indiscriminate overstatement often characteristic

of the Annie school, Gaston Richard partially recognized this po int in his

review of Suicide i n the fl rst volume of the A nnie sociologique:

This book is one of those works which j ust ify all the hopes which enlightened ob servers of the great modern cr is is place in socia l sc ience. Part ies (and at t imes individuals as wel l ) use social science, b u t it can be put to the uses of none of them. Durkheim proves i t . Social ists and economists are dismissed back t o back with a proof of their incompetence . What can remain of th e thesis of class confl ict considered as a fundamental law of social structure if it is proved that the regime of unl imited compet i t ion des troys the happiness and the existence of the capita l i st class even more than that of the proletar iat ? Now, i s not the thes is of class confl ict more than ever the fo undat ion of so-cal led scientifl c social ism? On the other hand , how can one celebrate with the old fai thfuls of the Manchester school the emancipation of economic forces if one sees how these

Chapter 4 Suicide and Solidarity 139

unchained forces can b e homicidal - how the quest for wealth engenders disgust fo r existence? 1

The main l ines of Durkheim's argument were as clear-cut as they were

compell ing. After dealing with in i t ia l problems of defl ni t ion , Durkheim

began by dist inguishing between the suic ide rate and the individual case

of suic ide . The rate, which disp layed a constancy o r tendential regular

ity over t ime, was the specifl cally sociological phenomenon. It could not

be explained by a random distr ibut ion of purely idiosyncratic motives

or i n te r - ind iv idua l im i tat ion. When t h e su i c ide rate rose above or fe ll

below a certain threshold, it b e came an index of social pathology. While

Durkheim left this threshold undefl ned, his analysis impl ied that its de

termination bore upon the relation of the suic ide rate to the disintegration

of substantively rat ional structures and social ly germane affective bonds

in soci ety. The exp lanat ion of the rate depended in i tially upon i ts correl a t i on with soc ia l co n d i t ions , i n s t i tut iona l structures, cu ltura l va lues , and

symb ol i c systems. The meaningfulness of this correlation depended upon

its interpretation wi th reference to the intervening variable of sol idar i ty

or integration in society.

Thus , the subject o f social so l idarity and its relation to substantive ra

t ional ity retained i n Suicide the central importance it had assumed i n The Division of Labor. The higher-order typology in terms of which Durkheim

class ifled various social and cultural phenomena in Suicide had as i ts focal

po int the nature and degree of so l idarity in soc iety: the polar opposites

of egoism and altruism, anomie and fatal ism, were relevant to the suic ide

rate through the functional re lat ionship between socia l sol idarity and the

phenomena which they characterized.

On the basis of these considerat ions , Durkheim arrived at his famous su ic ide " l aw." This is perhaps the on l y s igniflcant law-like statement i n

soc iology, bu t i n the works o f socio logists i t has received divergent fo rmu

lat ions . Although Durkheim himself never provided a propos i t ion which

formulated his " law," i t may be stated thus : the suic ide rate varies inversely

with the increasing degree of sol idarity in society, unt i l the degree of sol i

darity reaches a certa in threshold, at which point the covari at ion becomes

direct . But th is " l aw" i s m uch less s ign ifi cant than the i n te rp retative effo rt

Durkheim made to make sense of i t .


The elementary ambiguit ies apparent i n The Division of Labor none

theless continued to plague Suicide. Indeed , Durkheim's social metaphysic

became increasingly manifest . The metaphysical component of his thought

was never concerned with the substant ia l existence of some sort o f "group

mind" detached from indiv idual members of soc iety. Rather it dealt with the more subtle problem of the concept ion of soc iety and social sol idar ity

as providing the essential meaning and ult imate real ity b eh ind al l forms of

cultural symbol i sm. Du rkhe im never fully saw how social so l idarity itself

might be enriched when it became one aspect of a more comprehensive

universe of meaning. His u l t imate explanatory gesture was invariably

reductionist ic . In the terms of his socia l metaphysic, al l cultural phenome n a b ecame external signs of socia l real i ty - ic ing on the cake of soc ia l

custom or soc ia l act ion .

If, as i t is of ten sa id , man has a dua l nature , i t i s because there i s supe r imp osed u p o n phys ica l man a soc ia l man . Now the latter pre supposes ne cessari ly a soc i e ty which h e expresses and serves . When soc i e ty d i s i n tegrates , when we no longer feel i t act ing and l iv ing aro und and abou t us , a l l that there i s of the soc i a l in u s finds i t s e l f devo id o f ob j ect ive fou ndat i o n . There is on ly an art ificia l combina t ion of i l l u sory i m ages , a phantasmagor ia wh ich a l i t t le ref lec t ion s uffices to whi sk away. Consequen tly, there is no th ing to serve as an end for o ur act ions . Yet this soc ia l man is the who l e of c ivi l ized man ; i t i s h e w ho represents the value of ex i s t ence . 2

I n h i s me taphys ica l m oments , Du rkhe im was a lmos t l ed to lose a good

cause through bad arguments by conceiving a necessary condi t ion and

a v i ta l necessity as exclusive, self-conta ined real it ies . The socia l matrix

of cultural and symbol ic experience became mater et magistra . In fact,

Suicide already contained the i n terpretat ion of rel igion which wou ld b e

more fully developed i n The Elementary Forms: "The power which has

imposed itself upon m an's respect and which has become t h e object of

his adorat ion is soc iety, of which the gods were o n ly the hypostat ized

fo rm. Rel igion is in a word the system of symbols through which society

becomes conscious of itself; i t is the manner of thinking appropriate to

the collective b eing . " �

Chapter 4 Suicide and Solidarity !41

I n certa in ways Suicide was a n advance over The Division of Labor because i n the for m e r the ambigui t ies o f a soc ia l ized and Cartes ianized

n e o - K ant ian i sm became so transparent that they were a lmost inconse

quent ia l . D urkheim's confus ion was espec ia l ly apparent i n h i s idea of the

re la t ion of psychology to soc io logy. By "psychology" , Durkhe im meant a number of t h ings which were not a l together ident ica l . H e meant the

s tudy of (1) t h e psychophysical se lf analyt ica l ly cons idered i n i so lat ion

fr om soc iety and capable only o f sensat ion; (2) the mos t genera l , i l l -de

fined psych ic tra i ts of the h u m an b ei n g, e .g . , sexual des ire o r p aternal

affec t ion ; (3) the inner , pr ivate , and unobservable aspects of the self; ( 4)

the i n dividual ized aspects of the se lf; and (5) the s ingular i n dividual in h i s o r her con crete par t i cu lar i ty. S o c i o logy was d i rectly co n ce r n e d wi th

none of these mean ings of the psychology o f the individual . In contrast ,

soc io logy was direct ly concerned with soc ia l psychology and the way in

which col lective features were internal ized by the p e rs o n . The confusion

i n D urkheim's thought appeared in two ways . First , the language he

used in making the above po in t s was a t t imes amb iguous . S e co n d , he a t t i m es seemed to c o n ce ive o f t h e pe r son as a mere compos i t e o f t h e soc ia l

se lf and the psychophysical se lf. It was th i s second source of confusion

that stemm e d fro m his C artes ianized neo-Kant ian refo r m ula t ion of the

dual ism between m i n d and b ody. Thus, D u rkhe im at t imes seemed to

argue i n Suicide tha t the individual had n o role i n taking h i s or h e r own

l ife . O n e's psychophysica l cons t i tu t ion predisposed one to a greater o r

lesser degree t o the causal ac t ion o f spec ifica l ly socia l forces . Individuals were fe l led by "suic idogenet ic" socia l forces act ing l ike some fantast ic

death ray.

O n e instance o f D urkheim's confus ion was i n t h e d i c h o t o m y h e

see m e d to p ose b e tween cognit ion a n d in tent ion i n acts of s u i c i d e . H e

began b y defi ning su ic ide as "every case o f death w h i c h results d i rect ly

or ind i rectly from a pos i t ive or negative ac t of the vict im himself which he k n ows wi l l produce th is result"4 Unless i nvest iga t i o n (e .g . , t h rough

the use of d e p t h psychology) reveals otherwise , a n act which is p e r

formed by a per son who knows the c o n s e q u e n c e of h i s a c t i s p r ima facie

cons idered in tent iona l . Yet - b ecause of h i s susp ic ion of psychology

- D urkhe im, i mm e d i ate ly b efo re offer ing his defi n i t i o n , i m p ugned

an interest i n in t en tions wi th an argument whose genera l i ty seemed t o

14 2 Emile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

exclude even the cognit ive e lement i n h is own defi nit io n . " Intent ion i s

t o o in t imate a th ing to be s tud ied fro m the outs ide by more than gross

approx imat ions . It even escapes self- o b servati o n . " 5

Durkheim has a t times been mistakenly criticized for including a cognitive element in his definition of suicide. But the value of his definition in this respect is in its recognition that suicide is a relatively complex act that requires

init iative and the coordination of thought and activi ty. A more relevant objec

tion is that Durkheim was not clear about the relation of his conception of

t h e role of cognition to h i s criticism of the focus on manifest intentions and

to the problem of a more general theory of mo tivation. Yet a crucial chapter

of Suicide itself (Book II, chapter vi) attempted to relate sociological categories to psychological expressions and personality types. Thus, any idea that

Durkheim simply ignored psychological factors obviously misses the mark.

The b asic point i s t ha t he was often confused or ambiguous, in part because

of the Cartesianized, neo-Kantian strand of his thought, which led him at

times to postulate a dualistic division b etween the "outer" and the "inner" . . m expenence.

At t imes the main target o f Du rkheim's attack was the use of naive intro

spection and the psychological categories of official gatherers of statistics to pro

vide adequate accounts of motivation. But Jack C. Douglas has observed:

Unfortunately for Durkheim's own arguments, the official categorizations of a death as caused by "suicide" were generally most dependent on the ir imputations of an intention to die by one's own action: since one of the critical dimensions of meanings involved in the statutory definitions of "suicide" as a cause of death and in the general commonsense meaning of "suicide" i n the Western world is precisely that of "intention to d ie , " the official categorization of "suicide" can in general be only as valid as official categorizations of"intention." Since Durkheim thought official categories of intentions or motives to be completely invalid and unreliable, h e sh ould have concluded the same thing about offi cial statistics on suicide.6

Douglas' conclusion becomes more forceful when i t i s realized that shared

attitudes toward suicide influence t h e reporting of suicides, so that the more

sol idary groups also tend to be more reluctant about reveal i n g suicides to

t h e outs ide world . Furthermore, the importance of concealment assumes


major proport ions given the small fract ion of the populat ion committ ing

suic ide (between one hundred and three hundred per mil l ion) . Indeed, some

statist icians have argued that , even aside from problems of concealment , the

numbers involved are too small for statistically s ignificant variations and, in

any event, for inferring far-reaching socia l and cultural propos i t ions about

mil ieus o r contexts .7

Ambiguity i n the conception of the relat ion of psychology to sociology

also appeared in D u rkhei m's discussion of psychopathology and suicide .

Although h e recognized a "social factor" i n psychopathology, h e restricted

his discussion to making inverse or inconclusive correlations b etween rates of

suicide and rates of" i nsanity" in terms of age, sex, religion, and nationali ty. He d id n o t address h i mself t o t h e prob lems of t h e fu nct iona l a n d cu l tu ral

definit ion of psychop athology and the relation of rates of psychopathology

to cultural variables. But only by considering these problems could he have

arrived at a more pert inent conception of psychopathology, its significance

in different types of civil ization, and i ts possible relation to suicide and

sociopathic states. Curiously, however, his own discussion of personality types stressed the specia l importance i n modern suicides of what would

today be called manic-depressive syndromes (which he correlated with

anomie-egoistic suicide) . 8 Ambiguity arose as well in D urkheim's concept ion of case histories . In

general, he recognized t h e fully complementary relationship of the u s e of

case histories and an analytic approach centering on inst i tut i onal and cultural condit ions . At t imes he accurately saw the specificity of case history in its focus on the concrete individual in whom general factors assumed a

particular configu ration: "We cannot d ed u c e all the particularit ies which an

individual case may p resent, because there are some which depend upon the

specific nature of the subject . Each suic ide gives to his act a personal mark

which expresses his temperament [and] the special condit ions in which he

is placed, and which consequently cannot be explained by the social and general causes of t h e p h enomenon . " 9 At other ti m es , however, t h e soc io lo

gistic reformulat ion of the mind-body dualism led Durkheim to con ceive

the individual personality as a mechanical combinat ion of psychophysical

and social factors: "Everything depends upon the i n tensity with which the

suicidogenetic causes have acted upon the individual ."10 Whether because

of methodological and m etaphysical inhib i t ions o r because of the unavail-


abil i ty of usefu l documents , the fact remains that Durkheim did not use

case h is tor ies and other empirical evidence to i l lus trate h is argument. Here

again there was a continuation of the inst i tutional and legal formalism of

The Division of Labor in the fai lure to substantiate an analysis with concrete

evidence and to consider the way in which social factors are experienced by people. And l ike the earl ier work, Suicide often rested on a (much more

successful) coordination of the models of earlier theorists . His tor ians l ike

Roger Lacombe and Albert Bayet were especial ly sensitive to the absence

of documentation which might reveal whether and how the inst i tut ional

contexts and analytic variables discussed by Durkheim manifest themselves

operatively in actual events and experience. As Bayet puts it in his Le Suicide et Ia morale:

What is really a grave difficulty is that one must take the author's word for things. Where are the usages which prove that Protestants "punish su ic ide"? How is the "drawing away" from those who touch the suicide expressed? W h a t facts permit one to say that common morality blames su ic ide? Du rkheim does not t e l l u s . No d o u b t h e bel i eves t h a t t h e morality o f his t ime i s h i s own and he knows i t . . . . But the testimony o f the greatest phi losopher cannot, from the scientific point of view, replace observations s ubjected to control and crit icism.11

On a conceptual level, certain ambiguities evident in the typology of The Division of Labor also persisted in Suicide. In keeping with the emphasis on

modern social pathology, the category of egoism replaced t h a t of organic

sol id ari ty, and anomie became a central problem. But the analytical dis

sociation of reality was at times carried over from Durkheim's first major

work. Thus Durkheim seems at po ints to have b e l i eved that a concept l i ke

egoism applied to a discrete set of historical phenomena (e .g . , Protestant

ism) and that the concept of anomie applied to other phenomena (e .g . ,

capital ism) . Durkheim did not ask whether h i s analytic variables appl ied

simultaneously to a number of inst i tut ional contexts (e .g . , whether Protes

tantism or capitalism, to a greater or lesser extent, was characterized by both

egoism and anomie) or whether inst i tut ional contexts or symbolic systems

were histor ically related to one another in ways which could be i l luminated

by the appli cation of models (vide Weber in The Protestant Ethic).


B u t j us t as t h e typology i n The Division of Labor was b a s e d impl i c i tly

u p o n a n o t i o n of the transhistor ica l condi t ions of soc ia l normal i ty, the

Suicide typology was based i m p lic i t ly upon a not ion o f the transhistorical

causes of social pathology. In fac t , the i d e a of a coincidentia oppositorum seems to su rface in the not ion tha t any extremely patho logical social s tate

would in some way display a part icular combinat ion of t h e general causes

of socia l pa tho logy. One virtue of the concept of anomie was i t s ab i l i ty

to media te t h e m i nd-body dual i sm; i t showed how organical ly roo ted

desire and aggressiveness existed i n d ia lect ica l r e l a t ion to b i n d i n g norms

and symbol s , e rupt ing chaot i cally i n cases o f normative and symb o l i c

breakdown o r e m erging predictably when certa in norms and symbol i c systems t h e m s e l ves p re sc r ibed o r ce l eb rated excess a n d u n l i m i t ed asser

ti o n . And Durkhe im concluded that anomie and egoism were "generally

only two d ifferent aspects of the same state of soc ie ty. " 12 T h us , in Suicide the second and more Hegel ian s t rand of D u rkhe im's thought s t rongly

asserted i tse lf and tended to overlay his Cartes ianized neo- Kant ian i sm

with a more d ia lec t ica l not ion of exper ience and analysis .

In o n e c r u c i a l respect , however, this was n o t t h e case . A l t h ough

Durkhe im in tended h i s s tudy of su ic ide to serve as a means of approach

to the analysis o f soc ie ty as a whole , h e d id not adequately investigate

the relation of his variables to social p h e n o m e n a in the g loba l soci al

context . The o nl y area in w h i ch he extended h i s analysis was in a discus

s ion of h omic ide . Durkheim fai led i n Suicide to re late h is soc io logica l

and cu l tura l var iables not only to the ir ind iv idua l and inter- individual manifestat ions ( su ic ide and h o m i cide ) , but to more spec ifica lly soc ia l

forms of act ion and react ion . Yet , one typical response t o anomie and the

anx ie ty i t provoked was the a t tempt to "reintegrate" exper ience through

col lect ive act ion and group m o b i l i za t ion . Indeed , i t wou ld seem tha t

a n o m i e l e d t o s u i c i d e only i n assoc iat ion wi th ego i sm . In cases where

a tomis t i c indi vidual ism was not present o r could b e overcome , anomie m i gh t g ive way t o the form at i o n of groups wh ich res ponded to severe

d is integrat ion b y seeking new and perhaps more demanding, even au

thor i tar ian or fanat ica l , forms of so l idar i ty and a t t imes engaging i n

col lect ive v io lence . T h e p recise m an n e r i n which t h i s c o u l d take p lace

depended , of course , upon s p e cif1 c h i s tor ica l c ircumstances and m o des

of group m o b il i za t ion .


Here there was a basis for convergence with the ideas of Marx - a basis

upon which D urkheim himself fai led to bui ld . Durkheim was to make a t least

an oblique reference to capitalism in his discussion of anomie. But he did not

provide an intensive and direct investigation of the structural contradictions in

a capitalist economy. Nor did he see class-consciousness as an in regrating force that counteracted the effects of anomie in the "internal mil ieu" of a group.

The very focus upon suicide as the key problem for an analysis of modern

society may be seen as diverting attention from this possibil ity and from the

revolutionary potential Marx bel ieved it held.

At the other end of the ideological spectrum, the relation of anomie to the

r ise of extreme authoritarianism was another possibil ity Durkheim ignored. This matter has received extensive coverage in subsequent li terature. Karl

Mannheim, for example, observed:

The secret of taboo and the collective formation of symbols in primit ive societies is mainly that the free expression of impulses i s held in check by the various mechanisms of social control and directed towards certain objects and actions which benefit the group. Only the impulsive energies which have been set free by the disintegration of society and are seeking integration about a new object have those eruptive destructive quali ties which are customarily and vaguely regarded as characteristic of every type of mass behavior. What the dictatorships in certain contemporary mass-societies are striving to do is to coordinate through organizations the impulses which the revolutionary period unchained and to direct them towards prescribed objects. The consciously guided fi xation of mass impulses upon new obj ectives takes the place of earlier forms of wish fi xation which found their objectives organical ly, that i s to say, through a slow selective process. S o , for instance, the attempt is made to create a new religion, the fu nction of which is first to d estroy the old emotional setting, and then to make these disintegrated imp ulses more subservient to one's own aim through the use of new symbols . 1 3

I n a certain context or group, anomie might foster suicide. In a comple

mentary aspect of the gro up's life, in another context, or in the same context

over time, anomie might lead to various types of group m obilization and

ideological assert ion. Problems of this sort, however, could be investigated

only by historical analysis within the context of society as a whole over t ime

Chaper 4 Suicide and Solidarity 147

in a manner that went beyond one-dimensional correlations ofvariables such

as anomie with phenomena such as suicide rates.

On the basis of the foregoing considerations, one might conclude that

Durkheim's Suicide has limited value as an attempt to use a particular

problem as a means of approach to an analysis of society as a whole. It

may be argued that Durkheim was basing highly significant interpreta

tions and practical conclusions upon statistically insignificant information.

In this respect, two things may be said in defense of Durkheim. A crucial

aspect of his argument was that social and cultural forces that account f or

suicide rates are operative, consciously or unconsciously, in people who are

not moved to take their own lives. To put it crudely, the few people who

commit suicide in modern society are indices of a much larger number of

distraught or disoriented people who are handling their malaise in more

or less constructive ways. One of the apparent implications of Durkheim's

discussion is that, as a rule, people in primitive societies, when left to their

traditional forms of existence, tended to sacrifice theirlives in defense of their

values, while people in modern societies were driven to the extreme act as

a sign of personal negation and a vote of no confidence in society, either in

spite of shared values or because of an absence of values. Durkheim clearly

perceived the crisis of meaning and legitimacy in moder n societies. The

second defense is that, from a normative perspective, even a small number

of suicides represent a morally and spiritually scandalous sacrifice of life,

especially when the "sacrifice" is meaningless.

Anomie and Egoism

Durkheim's typology in Suicide attempted to provide a conceptual

framework for the systematic classification of social and cultural causes of

extreme! y high or extremely low suicide rates, which served as one objective

index (among others} of states of social pathology. The typology may be

represented diagrammatically thus:

anomie

egotsm

altruism

fatalism

148 Emile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

Anomie and fatalism were conceptually polar opposites , as were egoism

and altruism. Anomie signified the absence of an inst i tut ionally grounded

and ideo logically legit imated sense of substantive l imits in society and the

personali ty. The absence of an ingrained sense of l imits was for Durkheim the sociocultural cause of disorientation and aggression i n society. In the normal soc iety, a normative sense of l imits became i n t ime a person's second

nature, indeed his or her mode of being; i t was , m oreover, the only poss ible

b asis of solidarity i n society. Fatal i sm, in contrast , was caused by the setting

of l imits that were excessively authoritarian in rep ressive or o p pressive ways

and which, by that token, resulted in rules which were themselves obstacles

to sol idarity. "Egoism" referred, in i ts most general sense, to a state in which t h e pr incip le of indi viduation was carried to t h e extreme of part icularist ic

and self-centered atomist ic individual ism. Conversely, "altruism" denoted a

state of excessive community, which in its figuratively incestuous int imacy

submerged the individual i n the group and inhibi ted solidarity in society

as a whole.

The Suicide typology had the merit of transcending certain l imitations of the "organic" and "mechanical" schema of The Division of Labor. I t also

clarified Durkheim's idea of the relation of sociology to morali ty. On the

level of society as a whole , the argument i n Suicide implies that any normal

or healthy social system would be based upon some opt imal combinat ion

of community, a reciprocal relationship among different parts ( individuals ,

roles , groups) , and an autonomously accepted, disciplined sense of substan

tive l imits to personal or collective asser t ion. In this l ight, the fu ndamental moral fu nction of institutions and values in society was seen as the provision

of the ob jectively given and subjectively i n ternalized foundat ion for these

qualit ies in a conscience collective that furthered viable solidarity in society

as a whole. Integration in the normal o r good ( b u t not perfect) society thus

involved simultaneo usly the relatively ( b u t not totally) coherent nature of

inst i tutional norms and symbolic systems, the autonomous and spontaneous acceptance of norms and symbols by the i ndividual , and the creation

of meaningful moral solidarity i n society as a whole.

In Suicide i t also b ecomes clear that Durkheim did not conceive of the

normal or healthy society as a crystal palace . Even the normal society would

contain a marginal leaven of anomie, egoism, and extreme altruism. Some types

of society would normally develop certain of these characteristics more than


other types. Community was developed in "primi tive" societies to an extent

impossible and undesirable in large and functionally differentiated modern

societies, while egoism in modern societies was an excessive development of the

cardinal emphasis on individual rights and personal responsibil ity. Moreover,

certain milieus within a society would normally have certain extreme tendencies that, within limits, were necessary and positive forces in the development

of society as a whole. A measure of anomie corresponded to an element of

"free play" in society and the personality: anomie indeterminacy and daring

risk were conditions of progress and prerequisites of an ability to respond

creatively to changes in relevant conditions of existence. And anomie would

be especia l ly typica l of artistic and innovative milieus. Egoism was to some extent a concomitant of inte l lectual or ig inal i ty. To this extent , Durkheim

recognized the importance of the considerations that preoccupied a theorist

like Gabriel Tarde or were included in Weber's notion of personal election as

an element of charisma.

But D urkheim considered pathological the distorted, unbalanced, or

runaway development and general ization of these qualities in society. The soc iopathic began at the po int at which the conceivably valuable except ion in

society tended to become a h armful rule. Thus, for D urkheim as for Aristotle,

a vice was in the last analysis an excessive development of a virtue. In fact,

the concept of anomie in its primary meaning of an absence of a sense of

legitimate l imits recalls the notion of hybris. And implic i t in suicide and its

typology was an optimal point ofintersection of Durkheim's variables that cor

responded to the G reek idea of a golden mean. Nowhere else was Durkheim's

indeb tedness t o the classical tradition of Western philosophy more telling.

And nowhere else was the vision of his own France - with its insistence on

mesure - as the guardian of what was valid in this tradition more apposite .

In the normal society, the golden mean - normatively incarnated in the

conscience collective - would restrict hybris to the exceptional individual or

the extraordinary fea t whose shocking singularity amb ivalently fascinated and repel led society as a whole .

Durkheim's concept of anomie as the absence of a normative sense of le

gitimate l imits at t imes covered a great deal of territory rather indiscriminately.

The meaning of anomie as an operational concept, its relation to egoism, and

its connection with such "structural" problems as stratification, exploitation,

scarci ty, and group conflict have been sources of confusion.

150 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

The b as i c cause o f general ized ano m i e was rap id and uncontrol led

change i n t h e condi t ions , ins t i tut ions , o r values const i tut ive of the soc ia l

system i n the largest sense . The relevant effect of runaway change was the

unse t t l ing d i sp lacement , uproot ing , and d i sor ientat ion of the groups or

categories affected by his tor ica l change. Rap id transformation might have pos i t ive value fo r soc ia l develo pment only at certa in e u p h o r i c phases of

t rans i t ion ( e . g . , a classical revo l u t i o n ) . An after-birth of b anal ized and

misd irected hybris plagued modern soc i e ty. Prometheus had b een taken

down fro m his predest ined rock and made over into a face in the crowd.

And tragedy had b e c o m e tr ivia l i zed. M o d ern society needed s t ructural

reform that would bring legit imate s tab i l i za t ion and p u t a s top to irra t iona l , runaway c h ange i m posed by the s tatus q u o and i ts h i s tor i ca l

t endenc ie s . F o r in modern soc i e ty the p a t h o logical funct ion ing of the

s t a tus q u o frequent ly exacerbated ano m i e and he lped de termine t h e ir

rat ional c o m p o n ents of soc io log ically and p h i l o s o p h i cally uninformed ,

merely se lf- indulgent p r o tests against i t . In a patho logica l s tatus quo ,

o n e o f the legit imate funct ions of soc io logy ( i n Durkhe im's s ense ) was t h e d iffus i o n of a consc io usness of prob lems w i t h i n t h e society and of

the ways i n w h i c h they could b e overcome in an a t tempt to achieve

subs tantive rat ional i ty and social j us t i ce . High s u i c ide rates const i tu ted

a p r o b lem of th i s so r t . And D u rkheim's classical s tudy of the i r causes and

concomi tants concluded with a recommendat ion of s t ructura l reform

and a call to act ion .

A l imited meaning o f "an o m i e , " as i t s e tymology suggest e d , was "a s ta te of complete normlessness and meaninglessness o f exper i ence at

tendant u p o n ins t i tu t iona l and mora l breakdown . " The psychological

express ion of ano m i e in the indiv idual personal i ty was the feel ing of

anx ie ty and frustrat ion . In t h e absence of mean ingful symbol i c systems

and norms that contro l l ed anxiety and provided a connective t issue in

soc ie ty, the indiv idual b e cam e prey to l imi t l ess desires and m o r b i d fears. In one i m p o rt a n t sense , Durkh eim's concept of anomie s i tua ted H o b b es's

defiantly defensive and power-hungry m a n as a p e rsonal i ty type wi th in a

spec ifi c , pa tho logical state of soc i ety. H o b b es ian m a n d i d n o t represent

"human nature" but only o n e p athological poss ib i l i ty of h u m an nature

that emerged and was pronounced i n an ano m i e state o f soc ie ty. Dis t rus t

and an o b s essive fear o f o thers b ecame a prevalent m o de of soc ia l i n ter-

Chapter 4 Suicide and Solidarity 15 1

ac t ion o nly when normative structures fai l ed t o create an ins t i tu t ional

foundat ion fo r so l idari ty.

The term "anomie" also referred to the presence of extreme distortions and

im balances in the social system, which might lead to the nightmarish state

of normlessness. In this sense, "anomie" recalls Marx's notion of structural contradictions. Durkheim formulated this notion in terms of a contradiction

between fel t needs and expectations on the one hand, and values and insti

tutionalized means of satisfaction on the other. Structural contradictions

were a basic cause of passing ruptures in the social system that might have

more or less durable effects for the overall shape of social life. Moreover, the

general theory of anomie revealed that the effect of either a depression or an economic boom might be similar in the uprooting, social displ acem ent , and

moral disorientation of people . In a depression, the economic means at one's

disposal dropped below one's customary level of expected satisfactions. In

a windfall s ituation, one's means soared above one's accustomed needs and

might further unsettle one's level of expectation. Both imb alances distorted

the traditional structure of experience and generated anxiety. Rapid change

i n economic posi t ion , which might come to the individual in the appearance

of good or bad luck, thus had similar sociological and socio-psychological ef

fects. Implicit in this entire line of argument was a return to the theme of the

social , moral , and psychological costs of economic growth which preoccupied

Durkheim in his fi rst major work. 1 4

As has already been observed, from D u rkheim's viewpoint exploitation

could b e seen as a variant of anomie, insofar as i t involved a contradiction b e tween institutional practices or social conditions and the felt needs or

values of an oppressed gro u p , i f not of soc ie ty as a whole . The one area in

which D urkheim proved unable to apply this insight was gender, the relation

be tween the sexes, and their bearing on marriage. Durkheim was by and

large unable to think critically about the category of gender and, i n contrast

to his general insistence on sociological exp lanations for social phenomena,

had at best an equivocal , i n part natural ized or essential ized understand ing

of i t . I n The Division of Labor he relied on a neo-Aristoteliean and common

sensical psychology to argue that opposites attract , and homosexual desire

or the poss ibi l i ty of stable, morally legitimate relations, including marriage,

be tween homosexuals or lesbians seemed entirely b eyond his ken. I n Suicide he provided an overly general, prej udi cially gendered explanation of specifi c

152 I:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

differences i n suicide rates b etween unmarried or divorced men and women,

in virtue of which women were less negatively affected by celibacy or divorce

( o r, conversely, b enefi ted less from m arriage ) . H e simply appealed to his

transhistorical model of a hypothesized, presocial organic b alance which was

upset by the passage to society and culture (and had t o b e inst i tut ionally recreated) in order to argue that women, excluded from anomie social areas

and confined to the conj ugal fami ly, had greater proximity to the p utative

organic or inst inctual equi l ibr ium. This s i tuat ion presumably made them

less in need of the regulatory restraints of marriage on sexual desire. In this

manner he did not focus analytically and crit ically on the very problem of

exclusion but instead partially naturalized that very exclusion of women from eco n o m i c and profess iona l act ivit ies and could envision an i ncreased socia l

role for them only through an intensifi cation of gendered differences: b ecause

of the ir presumed "natural" aptitudes , women would become increasi ngly

special ized i n aesthetic funct ions . H e did not offer the seemingly obvious

sociological explanat ion that women confi ned, if not claustra ted, within the

conjugal family might be prone to a variant of "fatal ist ic" suicide i n good

part because of the i r exc lus ion fro m other areas of social and public life.

(A reading of Haubert's Madame Bovary would have been enough to sug

gest such an explanat ion . ) He thus e i ther kept women within the conj ugal

fami ly, which on his own analysis brought them ( i n contrast to men) l i t t le

of social value and even had adverse effects o n them when the family was

childless , or relegated them to what he saw as less "serious" sides of social

life, implicit ly ignoring them in his treatment of the corporative groups that were the key to his idea of beneficial social reform.

Nonetheless, Du rkheim's overall sociological approach , which insisted

on the analysis and reform of social causes - not merely sym ptoms - of

social problems, provided the bases for a non-essential ized analysis of the

fami ly, gender, and sexual relations that he himself was unable to develop.

For example, in his discussion of anomie , Durkheim wrote:

Discipline can be useful only if it i s considered j u s t by the peoples subjected to i t . If it maintains itself only through habit and force, peace and harmony exist only in appearance. The spirit of unrest and discontent is latent. And superfic ially restrained appetites waste I i tt l e time in becoming unleashed. This i s what happened in Rome and


Greece when the bel iefs on which the old organization of the patricians and plebeians rested were shaken, and in our modern societies when aristocratic prejudices began to lose their sway. 1 5

In the context of the classical idea of exploitation, one clearly defined group

benefited fro m the injust ices imposed upon another clearly defined gro up .

A l ienation, however, might resu l t from a contradiction between needs or

values and inst i tut ional patterns or soc ia l conditions tha t created a feeling

of frustration, meaninglessness, and hostil ity to the "system" even when a

group had not b een directly subjected to invidious exploitat ion. Indeed,

al ienation might be experienced by groups that were p rivileged or that

materially benefited from exploitat ion. The frustrations of the privileged

in an anomie situation generated a type of restlessness that, in the absence of constructive alternatives, might feed the su ic ide rate or find other nega

tive ou tlets .

In this respect, a little-noticed aspect o f Durkhei m's argument was crucial.

He went beyond the ideas of structural contradictions and gaps to a not ion

of inst i tut ionalized or ideological anomie . Where inst itutional and ideologi

cal anomie existed, l imitless or excessive assertion was actually prescribed or

lauded, with what Durkheim considered typica l ly damagi ng consequences

for society as a whole . He saw this fo rm of le mal de l'injini ( infinity sick

ness)16 in numerous aspects of modern culture , e . g. , in romanticism. But i t

was especially i n h i s conception o f the economy that he advanced beyond the analysis of The Division of Labor to a perspective that anticipated the

s imilarit ies b e tween l ib eral capital ism and a certain sort of social ism.

Governmental power, instead of being the regulator of economic life, has become its instrument and servant. The most opposite schools - orthodox economists and extreme socialists - agree that it should be reduced to the role of a more or less passive intermediary between different social functions. One side wishes it to be simply the guardian of individual contracts. The other side delegates to it the task of collective b ookkeeping, i . e . , to chalk up the demands of consumers, to transmi t them to producers, to inventory aggregate income, and to distribute it according to a set formula. But both sides refuse government the right to subordinate other social organs and have them converge toward a higher goal. On all sides, men declare that nations


ought to have as their sole or principal obj ective the achievement of industrial prosperity. Thus the dogma of economic materialism serves as

the basis of these seemingly opposed systems. And since these theories merely express the state of opinion, industry, instead of being viewed as a means to an end which transcends it, has become the supreme end of individuals and societies . 1 7

For Durkheim this state of affairs and the ideologies that legitimated i t

constituted a paradigm case of institutionalized and id eological anomie.

Thus the appetites which industry activates have been freed fro m al l limiting authority. The apotheosis of well-being has , in sanctifying these appetites, placed them above all human law. To check them seems to be a sort of sacrilege . . . . Here is the origin of the effervescence which reigns in this part of society [the economy] and from i t has spread to all the rest. I t i s because the state of crisis and anomie is constant and, so to speak, normal. From the top to the bottom of the ladder, desires are stimulated without the possibility of satisfaction. Nothing can calm them, because the goal toward which they aspire i s i n fi nitely beyond anything that can be attained . . . . H enceforth the least setback leaves one unable to recover . . . . O n e may ask whether it is not especial ly this moral state which today m akes economic catastrophes so produ ctive of suicides. For in a society with a healthy moral discipline, men are better able to cope with the blows of fortune . . . . And yet these dispositions have become so inbred that society has grown to regard them as normal. I t is continually repeated that i t is man's nature to be eternally dissatisfied, to advance constantly without rest or respite toward an indefinite goal. The passion for infinity is daily presented as a mark of mo ral distinction, whereas i t can appear only within unregulated consciences which elevate to the status of a rule the lack of regulation from which they suffer. The doctrine of the most rapid progress a t any price has become an article of faith . 18

Such statements indi cate a frequently ignored dimension of Durkheim's

concept of anomie, bring out its critical edge, and refute the idea that he

identified social health and normality with conformity to any and every kind

of status quo. O n the contrary, his normative and philosophically grounded

idea of social normality enabled him to work out something l ike a concept


of the pathology of normalcy within certain extstmg states of soci ety. 19 It

even provided the bas is for a crit ique of some of his own more questionable

analyses or arguments.

We are now in a position to understand better Durkhei m's idea of the re

lation of anomie to egoism and the more cogent elements of his conception of

the relation of sociology to psychology. Egoism, in the sense of atomistic in

dividualism, obviously had a large area of analytic and empirical overlapping

with i ndividualistic forms of anomie, and both might b e inst i tut ionalized

or ideologically j ustifi ed. But Durkhei m's neo-Kant ian assumptions made

possible a d is t inct ion between anomie and egoism which, while allowing

for events involving both anomie and egoism, was analytically "clear and d i s t inct . " In this sense , "an o m i e" referred to a patho logy (and pathos) of

practical reason and "egoism" t o a pathology of theoretical reas o n .

Suicides of b o t h types [anomie a n d egoistic] suffer fro m what might be cal led infi nity s ickness [le mal de l'inji ni] . B u t this s ickness does not t ake the same for m i n the two cases . In ego i sm, i t i s consc ious i n tell igence which is affected and which becomes hypert rophied beyond measure . In anomie , i t i s sens ib i l i ty which i s overexci t e d and unhinged. In t h e former, thought , through constant turning b ack upon i tse lf, n o longer has an ob j ec t . In the latter , pass ion, n o longer recogniz ing any l i m i ts , no longer has a goal . The fi rst loses i tse lf in the infi nity of the dream; the second, in the infi nity of d es ire . 20

Thus anomie , in this more special sense , was related to the "practical ,"

appe titive, and active facult ies : desire , passion, and will , especially the wil l

to power. Egoism was related to the imaginative, intel lectual , cognit ive , a n d " theoretical" facul t ies .

In fact , the more phi losophically specia l meanings of "anomie" and

"egoism" were closest to Du rkheim's concept ion of personality types and

psychological expressions of his sociological variables. Despi te its lack of

empi rical substant iati o n (e .g . , through the analysis of case studies ) , Book

I I , chapter v i , of Suicide i s p roof of the i nadequacy of the preval ent idea

tha t Durkheim, even on a theoretical level, ignored the problem o f social psychology and the internalization of social norms and condit ions . Here he

argued that anomie was expressed in anxiety and manic agitation, egoism


in depression and melancholy. In fact, his conception of their socio-psycho

logical manifestations helps to explain why he correlated anomie, b u t not

the more effete , p assive, and inner-directed egoism, wi th the poss ibi l i ty of

homicide . And i t was from literature and philosophy that he derived the

examples of t h e relation of social factors to individual personali ty, which h e d id not provide i n the fo rm of empirical case studies . H e cited t h e cerebral

and indec isive heroes of Lamartine as cases approximating the pure form of

egoism. Drawing on classical philosophy, he distinguished b e tween the more

detached and introspe ctive stoical, and the more disabused and skeptical

epicurean, variants of egoism. In a rare moment of tragic i rony, he observed

of the egoistic frame of mind: " H owever individualized each one may be , t h e r e i s always someth i ng which remains c o l l ect ive : i t i s t h e depression and

the melancholia which result from th i s exaggerated indiv iduat ion . One

communes i n sadness when one has nothing else i n common. " 2 1 Later, in his

Moral Education, Durkheim was even more b i t ter : "Human activity . . . dis

simulates no thingness by decorating i t with the specious name of infi nity." 22

In Suicide he offered as an examp le approximating the pure fo rm of anomie the ou t l ook of Rene, the hero of Chateaubr iand , who exc la imed: " Is i t my

fau l t i fl find l imits everywhere, i f what i s fini te has n o value fo r me?" 2 3 But ,

as we have already observed, Durkheim d id recognize the poss ib i l i ty - and

indeed the probabi l i ty in certain states of society - of a combinat ion of

t h e idea l types of anomie and egoism i n t h e "manic-depressive" personality

which displays "an alternation of depression and agitation, dream and action,

waves of desire and the meditations of the melancholic ." 24

Sti l l , Durkheim did not sufficiently entertain the possibi l i ty that certain

areas of society and culture , such as art and the thought of contestatory

intel lectuals , might, even in "normal" or normatively legit imated condi

t ions, represent relatively safe havens for radical experiments and even

hyperbol ic or excessive i n i tiatives involving extreme states that were b o th

s ignificant in themselves and had at least indirect bearing on social life. N o r d id h e devote ex tended a t te n t i o n (as d i d M ikhai l Bakh t i n ) to certain

social inst i tut ions (for example, carnival) in which legit imated transgres

s ion might be located and, to some extent , made a par t of the ongoing

rhythm of socia l life. D u rkheim d id see a l imi ted role in modern societ ies

for anomie as wel l as fo r certa in soc ia l milieux as specia l b e arers of anomie

and egoism, b u t he did not provide a d ifferentiated view of the ir poss ibly


creative as well as destructive contr ibut ions to soc ie ty as a whole . While he

d id l a t e r envisage feasts as effervescent events that recreated social values in

ways that might a t t imes b e disconcerting, Durkheim's thought was clearly

inhosp i tab le to unrestrained advocacy or celebration of excess in any area

or to the concept ion of l imits as mere pretexts for breaking taboos . H e nonetheless d i d have open ings in h i s thought for a more susta ined under

standing of actual and poss ib le interact ions between normative l imits and

excessive, a t t imes radically transgressive, challenges to them. But he did

not develop them into a nuanced, complex b asis fo r analys is and j udg

ment . After D urkheim, of course , the problem of l imits and excess became

a flashpoint of French cr i t ica l theory, with structural ists often stressing a somet i m es fo r m a l idea of l i m its a n d p o s tstructural ists a no t ion of excess

which went back to Geo rges Batai l le 's understanding of dep ense (excessive

expenditure) via a rather one-s ided reading of t h e gift presumably in terms

of p o tlatch - a reading that tended to reverse Durkhei m's stress on l imits

and to e l ide M a uss's affi nity with D urkheim i n the emphas is on tempered

forms of gift exchange re lated to "amiable rivalry." A l though h e did n o t fu l l y investigate i ts import fo r collective beh avior,

the problem of the relation of scarcity to aggression and conAict in society

was basic to Durkhei m's notion of anomie. He recognized two forms of

scarcity relevant to social l if e . The first was de facto scarcity i n the form, for

example, of insufficient natural resources in relat ion to p o p ulation and the

existing state of technology. The second was a form that depended on the

cultural definition of scarcity, as well as on the institutional creation or socia l condit ioning of scarcity effected by the apport ionment of things of social

and cultural value and, of course, of any economic surplus . The problem

of social order and solidarity was concerned with the dialectical relation of

these two types of scarci ty, for instance the abi l i ty of the second to shape

or distort the first - an abi l i ty that in certa in ways might increase with the

development of sc ience and technology. Durkhei m's initial concept ion of the prob lem im pl ied t h e circularity and tendent iousness of arguments defending

inst i tut ions , which thems elves aggravated scarci ty, by an indiscr iminate re

l iance on the universal prevalence of scarcity. But , within l imits , i t also

impl ied the relativity of exploitat ion and the ethnocentrism of arguments

which restricted the possibi l i ty of plenitude to modern societies possessed of

advanced technology. Defi nitions of what constituted legitimate expectation


and need , beyond the requirements o f b i ological survival, varied according

to social type. One of Durkheim's contentions was that the relative poverty

of traditional societ ies was itself often a basis for the l imitat ion of desires

and expectations to a level at which they could be institutionally satisfied

with available resources. This was the basis for the correlation of poverty,

in certain societ ies , with low suicide rates. And especially in "primitive"

societ ies , the inst i tut ional definit ion of legi t imate needs often seemed to

be consensually accepted by all interested groups.

In societ ies undergoing a process of "modernizati o n , " the development

of socia l order and sol idarity amounted in large part to the creation of inst i

tut ions and traditions that viably rea l ized newer values and were consensually accepted as t h e basis fo r a deflni t ion of leg i t imate needs. In modern

societ ies , part ly because of the fu nct ional i m p eratives of the advanced

degree of divisi o n of labor, achievement tended to replace inheritance as

the basis of status in society. The problem of social order, however, resided

in the relation of status to stratification, scarci ty, and anomie. In Suicide,

Durkheim seemed to assume the existence of some sort of stratification i n

a l l societ ies . B u t , as in The Division of Labor, h is treatm e n t of strat ificat ion was minimal and hesitant and tended to raise quest ions rather than furnish

answers. Once again, he fai led to inquire into the principles or principal

causes of strat ificat ion i n various types of soc ie ty. And h i s fo cus was clearly

on anomie . Durkheim relied on the truism that, whatever the elements of

stratification in soc ie ty, they would have to be complementary, rather than

contradictory, to forms of reciproc i ty, and consensua l ly accepted as ju s t , if

solidarity was to prevail in society as a whole . If forms of stratification, e .g . ,

in economic reward, were to be el iminated or even substantial ly reduced,

a sense of legit imate l imits enshrined in a conscience collective would be all

the more necessary to induce the more talented or powerfu l to accept equal

treatment with the mediocre or powerlessY

The elementary and reiterated point of Durkheim's argument was that runaway anomie , inc lud ing i t s inst i tut ional ized vari ety, made the problem

of solidari ty and social order insoluble, because i t both maximized scarcity

and eliminated the possibil ity of reciprocity in social relations. In a state of

society in which desires were perpetually stimulated and status always in

dou bt, m u tually invasive and aggressive relations were inevitable. A society

that combined achievement values and anomie faced devastating problems,


for it gave rise to the type of person who was constrained to be preemptively

rapacious in his o r her dealings with others and anxiously uncertain in his or

her every action. Through a combination of institutional change and advanced

technology, modern societies might be able to transcend the cruder forms of

economic exploitation. But economic exploitation, despite its importance, was not the sole cause of restlessness and conflict in society. And affluence

alone was not a solution to the social problem of scarcity. In the absence of

consensually accepted norms which defined within fl exible l imits an optimal

set of compatible alternatives in the just allocation of resources, any surplus

- however great i t might be in absolute terms - would b e socially and

psychologically experienced in terms of uncooperative competit ion for scarce values. And anomie on th is level would p revent t h e so lut ion of th e problem

of creating social mil ieus and symbolic forms which would permit people to

feel at home in the world, at least to some viable extent.

In some measure , Durkheim tried to provide more concrete answers to

these problems in his corporatist proposals and his theory of morality and

religion . Hi s underlying concern, however, was to overcome uncontrolled scarcity and anomie by creating appropriate inst i tut ional norms and cu l tural

values. This overcoming required the divorce of achievement from limitless

achieving, i t s correlation with viable self-fulfillment, and i t s reconcil iation

with the humanistic ideal which asserted that human b eings were equal in a

sense more basic than all the senses in which they were unequal . Durkheim

more than intimated that in a state of society marked by extreme anomie and

egoism, people were in fac t a l ready equal in a respect perhaps as fundamental

as all the respects in which they were unequal - i .e . , in their common anxiety

and isolation. The problem was to use this condition, which so easily lent

itself psychologically to destructive compensatory reactions, as a motivation

for the creation of a j ust society. Only through a sense of j us t inst i tut ional

l imits could society conjoin modern achievement values with the humane

classical ideals of personal maturat ion and legitimate social order as the coordinate fo undat ions of se lf-fulfi l l m e n t and so l idarity. Indeed, i n one of

his very first articles Durkheim enunciated the idea that was to serve as the

inspiration of Suicide and of his social philosophy of finitude in general:

"How I prefer the words of the old sages who recommend before all else the

full and tranquil possession of oneself. No doubt , the sp ir i t as it develops

needs to have b efore i t vaster horizons; b u t for all that i t does not change

/ 60 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

i ts nature and remains finite ."2 6 One might add that , in this context, the

very desire for transcendence might b e displaced i n the direct ion of radical

transgression, which would also pose problems for a viable relat ion be tween

normative l imits and challenges to them.

Soc i ety and personality as complementary integrated wholes whose finite fu llness was activated and agitated by a marginal leaven of anomie:

this was Durkheim's essential v is ion throughout his life. And he increasingly

saw the healthy society as one that both institut ionally constrained and

spontaneously evoked the commitment of all b u t the incorrigibly criminal

and the extraordinarily creative. It accomplished this feat by founding the

dominant sense of solidarity and "wholeness" in a conscience collective that represented a cu l turally relat ive vari a n t of substant ive reason t h a t Aex ib ly

discipl ined the imagination and controlled des i re and will .

Altruism and Fatalism

Durkheim began h i s discuss ion of a l truism with t h e fo l l owing general

pronouncement:

In the ordering of life, nothing i s good without measure [mesure] . A biological characteristic can fulfill the ends i t must serve only i f i t does not go beyond certain limits. The same principle applies to social phenomena. If excessive individuation leads to suicide, insufficient individuation produces the same effect. \'Vhen a man is detached from society, h e readily kills himself; he also kills himself when he is too strongly i ntegrated into societyY

Thus a l t ru i sm, in contrast to egoism, was character i s t ic of a soc ia l

context marked b y excessive integrat ion and so l i dar i ty , e s p e cial ly in

extreme communal forms . Fatal i sm, in contrast t o anomie , character

ized a social context marked by "an excess of regula t ion thro u gh which

sub jeers find the i r future p i t i less ly wal led up and the i r pass ions violently

inhi b i te d by an op pressive d i sc ip l i n e . " 2R But D u rkheim bel i eved that nei

ther altruism nor fatalism was signifi cant i n modern soc ie ty. In h i s view,

modern society in the West was characterized by egoism and anomie , by

min imal community, and by inst i tut ional structures that might be rigid


and authori tarian b u t were often comparatively b enign in nature. Moreover,

for h i m , o p p ressive or repressive fe atures of modern ins t i tut ions would

be met , not by fatal i s t ic resignation, but by mil i tant , impat i en t protes t

that often a t ta ined b y i ts demands anomie he ights complementary to

those of the dominant system. The pecul iarly uns tab i lizing force of th i s combinat ion of factors d id n o t escape Durkhe im, although he fa iled to

relate i t to the poss ib le genesis o f neof atal ist ic oppression and authori tar

ian regimentation in soc iety.

For Durkheim extreme altruism was a trait of tradit ional , and especially

of "pr imit ive ," societ ies . D urkheim's discussion of the poss ib le extremism

of self-sacr ificial devotion to o thers made apparent the superficia l i ty of interpretat ions that present h i m as the uncond i t iona l advocate of sol idar i ty

i n soc iety. All forms of excess were ant ipathet ical t o his bas ic phi losophy,

a t least insofa r as they became general ized i n soc iety.

I n extremely a l t ru is t ic contexts , su ic ide might i n certain cases b e obl ig

atory ( e . g . , the pract ice of suttee among widows in Ind ia ) , b e considered

a supererogatory virtuous act ( e .g . , martyrdom for a cause ) , or s imply b e t h e result o f a tota l involve m e n t i n t h e collectivity a n d i ts m a n y re l igious

customs. Another form of suic ide class ified by Durkheim as al truist ic was

the self - immolat ing type in which an offense against a deeply rooted value

created a sense of gui l t so strong that suic ide became a mode of expiat ion.

Examples of a l truis t ic suic ide i n one form or another abounded in tradi

tional societ ies . S imi lar to the obl igat ion of suttee was the in junct ion tha t

retainers no t su rvive the dea th of the ir ch ief or patron. Danish warriors commit ted suic ide to escape the ignominy of dying in b e d . For the G o ths ,

natural death was shamefu l ; the mythica l punishment fo r i t was condem

nation to eternal stagnation i n caves fi lled with venomous animals . The

Visigoths had a high rock, named the Rock of Ancestors , fro m which old

men threw themselves when they were t i red of l i fe and fel t themselves to

be a burden to the community. Among the Spanish Celts a future life of glory was reserved fo r s u i c ides , while hel l awa i ted t h o s e who died of il lness

or old age. These might b e called suicides of strength. Altruist ic suicide also

had i t s appea l to the weak who had n o other viable alternatives . S u i cides

expressing protes t might be directed b y the oppressed against a p o werful

oppressor and , in r i tua l form, be conceived as i mpos ing upon the adver

sary a b urden of gui l t of crushing proport ions . In a sense, r i tual su ic ide


might fu nct ion as the symbol ic vengeance of the weak, who "altruist i cally"

conferred upon the ir enemies an imaginary gift of death .

Isolated instances of altruist ic su ic ide of course occurred in modern

society. There was, for example , the m o ther who sacrificed her l ife in order to save her child fro m harm. But the inst i tut ional context that Durkheim treated extensively as embodying a modern vestige of "primi tive" morality

was the mil i tary. In fact , this was the only section of his chapter on altruistic

suicide i n which Durkheim cited statistics. They showed higher suicide rates

among military men than among civil ians and a tendency for the suic ide

rate to increase with the durat ion of mil i tary service. The stat ist ics indicated

that the nature of mil i tary organization and the type of social psychology

it fostered expla ined t h e rate d i fferentials . As was t h e case among "pr imi

t ives , " the extreme sp i r i t of abnegation and collective solidarity induced

mil i tary men to place l i t t le value on the i r own individual existence and

to be ready to r isk the ir lives for a point d'honneur. The Suicide rate of the

mil i tary over t ime, however, was following a downward trend. D urkheim

found the reason in the decline of the old mi l i tary spirit and the influence of modern values and cond i t ions i n foster ing a m o re flexible d isc i p l i ne and

greater individualism within the mili tary itself?9

The nature and significance of altruist ic suic ide were of course qu i te

d i fferent from those of egoistic or anomie su ic ide . Altruis t ic su ic ide was

prompted by an affirmation of the norms and values of society and was at

t imes even honored by the relevant group. Egoistic and anomie suicides were

induced by despair, anxiety, and suffering and were generally condemned by society.

In his discussion of egoistic suic ide , however, Durkheim touched on

t h e poss ible genesis i n modern society of extreme and , indeed, fanatical

"altruistic" contexts which depressed the rate of suic ides caused by egoistic

condit ions . H i s brief but pointed discussion - his only significant refer

ence in Suicide to social conflict - reveals his awareness of the " i n tegrating" fu nct ion of social confl ict .

G reat social co m m o ti o n s , like great popu lar wars, i n A ame collective sent iments , s t imulate party sp i r i t and patr iot i sm, po l i t ical fai th and national fai th , and by concentrat ing act ivit ies toward the same goal, determine, at least fo r a t ime, a stronger integration of soci ety. This

Chapter 4 Suicide and Solidarity 1 6.3

salutary infl uence is no t due to the cris is i t se lfbut to the struggles of which the crisis is the cause. S ince they oblige men to come together to conf rant a common danger, the individual thinks less of himself and more of the common cause . M o reover, one understands how this integrat ion may not be p u rely m omentary but may at t imes su rvive the causes which were i t s immediate occas ion, especially when it i s intense . 30

Earlier, in h i s discussion of the correlat ion of intel lectual p u rsuits and

egoism, Durkheim had applied the same principle of the integrat ion of groups and personal it ies through shared social antagonism to the Jews, who

a voided suicide b y combining intel lectual ism with ethnic sol idarity.

It is a genera l law that re l ig ious m i n o r i t i es , in order to be able t o ma in ta in themselves m o r e s e c u r e l y against the hatreds of w h i ch they are t h e ob j ec t s , or s i m p l y th rough a sor t of e m ula t i o n , m ake an effor t to be s u p e r i o r in knowledge to sur rounding p o p ulat ions . T h u s Protes tants t h e m s e l ves s h ow m o re taste fo r l e a rn ing when they are a m i n o r i ty. The Jew seeks e d u c a t i on, not t o replace his col lect ive prej u d i ces with thought -out not ions , b u t s i m ply to be b e t te r a rmed i n the struggle . Fo r h i m th i s i s a means of com pensa t ing for t h e d i sadvantageous s i tua t ion w h i c h i s c rea ted fo r h i m b y o p i n i o n and a t t imes b y t h e law. S ince l earn ing i n i tself has l i t t le effect on vigorous t rad i t i o n s , he super i m p o ses h i s i n tel lectual l ife o n his cus tomary act ivity w i t h o u t having the fo rmer c u t in to t h e latter . H ence t h e complex i ty of h i s phys iogno my. Pr imit ive i n cer ta in ways , he is i n other ways a cerebra l and refi ned type . Thus h e j oins t h e advantages o f l i t t l e groups o f the pa s t wi th t h e b enefits of the in tense cu l ture o f our grea t c o n t e m porary soc ie t i e s . He has al l the inte l l igence o f m o derns wi thout shar ing the i r d es p a i r. 5 1

I t would, o f course, b e d i fficu l t not t o see a n element of biographical nos

talgia in this portrait , as well as a part ia l int imat ion of Durkheim's reformist

hopes for professional gro ups .

Durkhe im devoted only a brief foo t n o t e t o "fatal i s t ic" suic ide , fo r h e

bel ieve d this type t o b e largely o f his tor ica l interes t . Although his concept of fata l i sm seems to hark back to the discuss ion o f t h e constra ined o r


forced divis ion o f l abor in h i s firs t major work, Durkhe im d i d n o t refer

to th is p rob l em in t h e later b ook. In par t , th is was because the i d e a of

fata l i sm in Suicide was not re la ted to t h e existence of explo i tative s truc

tures a lone . I t d ia lect ica l ly compr i s ed b o th the op pressive or repressive

nature of ins t i tut ional norms and the nature of individual or collective response to t h e m . Fa ta l i sm, in o t h e r words , impl i ed the kind of resig

nat ion to "moral or m ater ia l despot i sm" that l ed , n o t to spontaneous o r

organized protes t , b u t t o su ic ide ( o r perhaps t o cr ime) . 3 2 F r o m h i s tory

Durkhe im drew examples of the s uic ides of slaves. From m odern soci

e ty, he ci ted the less inst i tut ional ly per t inent instances of wives w i thout

chi ldren and of husbands t o o im mature to a s sume the respons ib i l i t i e s of m arri age; he d id not ra i se the q u es t i o n of the re la t ion of t h ese cases

to the sociocultural defi nit ion o f the role of the marr i ed woman , the

gendering of ro les i n genera l , t h e re la t ion of the sexes , or the nature of

the m odern family.

D urkheim's b r i ef d iscuss ion o f fata l i s t ic s uic ide has the m e r i t of j ust i

fying the inclus ion in the defini t ion of su ic ide of a cognit ive factor tha t i m p l i ed t h e ab i l i ty of t h e ind iv idua l to assess t he ob j ective s i tua t ion a n d

t o take a fo rm o f act ion that required a s ignificant measure o f in i t ia t ive .

For su ic ide to be a typica l react ion to oppress ion , author i tar ianism wou ld

have t o b e s t rong enough to check m o r e effective forms of protes t , b u t

n o t s o s trong a s t o e l iminate al l pos s ib i l i ty o r h o p e o f res is tance . I t has

been remarked that in s i tua t ions approx imat ing to ta l oppres s ion , t h e

suic ide r a t e , instead o f ris ing, tends to d r o p . T h i s was, for example , true o f Nazi concentrat ion c a m p s . 3 3 In the context o f extreme author i tar ianism,

condi t ions might i n d u ce d isempowerment , an inab i l i ty t o make obj ective

assessments , a loss of the sense of personal ident i ty a n d "ego boundar i e s , "

and even what Freu d t e rmed " identifi cat ion wi th the aggressor. " Thus a

s i tuat ion of ext reme soc ia l pathology might exclude even the o p ti o n of

suic ide as an exis tent ia l response . Although D u rkh e i m fa i l e d t o i nvest igate adequate ly the genes i s a n d

nature o f extremely a u t h ori tar ian a t tempts a t integrat ion , i t m a y b e o b

served that h i s b el ief t h a t m odern Western soc ie t ies w o u l d give b i r th ,

n o t to fatalistic su ic ides , b u t t o a c o m b i n a t i o n of l iberal ized ins t i tu t i onal

norms ( o r a t l eas t benign author i tar ian i sm) and forms o f protes t s h o t

through with a n o m i e has b e e n b o r n e o ut b y a t least certa in developments


s ince h i s death . O n e instance has b e e n the muta t ion of sexual norms

and at t i tudes . D urkhe im's own t ime was the per iod dur ing which Freud

treated hyster ia caused by extremely repress ive sexual norms. S ince that

t ime , pur i tan ical officia l m o r al i ty has b een i n creasingly undercut by a sexual revolut ion that has combined greater permissiveness with d isor i entat ion concerning i t s leg i t imate l imi t s . Even prophets of l iberat ion

have been led to speak o f "repressive desubl imat ion . " The confused status

of sexual at t i tudes is only one aspect o f t h e modern cr i s i s of legi t imacy

which D urkhe im perce ived . As Erik Erikson has observed : "The pat ient

of today s u ffers most under the problem of what h e should b e lieve i n and

who h e should - o r indeed might - b e o r become ; whi le t h e pat i ent of ear ly psychoanalysis suffered m ost under i n h i b i t i ons w h i ch prevented

h im fro m b e i n g what or who h e thought h e was ." 34 The " ident i ty cr is i s"

i n i t s extreme forms i s of course a psychological analogue of anomie .

In w h a t was for D urkh e i m a " healthy" or i n tegrated soc iety, much of

t h e cr i s i s w o u l d be taken o u t of t h e search for i d ent i ty, and " i d e n tity"

itself might be more fl exible and even fl uid t o the extent that i t was not

anx ie ty- r idden and defensive .

Durkheim and Weber

If asked to name the sociological classic par excellence, most sociologists

would hesitate between Suicide and The Protestant Ethic. But the extent to

which these two works are complementary as contr ibut ions to the analysis

of modern social and cultural history has been l i t t le recognized.

Both Durkheim and Weber, in their concept ion of modern soci ety,

stressed the importance of the comparative method in investigating m aj o r

processes o f cultural transformation. Their foci converged o n the relation

of ideologies or value systems to inst i tut ions, a trait of Durkheim's work that became increasingly p rom inen t with h is growing in terest i n re l igi o n . In

The Division of Labor, D u rkheim treated anomie and a crisis of transit ion

in terms of the breakdown of one type of social system under the impact

of demographic pressure and the rise of newer inst i tut ions and values . B u t

in comparison with Weber's elaborate i nvestigation o f feudal inst i tut ions ,

symbol ic systems, urbanizat ion, and b u reaucracy, the level of discussion

/66 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

in D urkheim's fi rst major work was of minimal historical interest . Despi te

the fact tha t i t shared Durkheim's constant tendency to devote insufficient

attention to the precise nature and historical specificity of symbolic bel iefs

and inst i tut ional pract ices , Suicide was often more to the po int . Suicide attempted an analysis of the functions and consequences of inst i tut ions and values whose historical genesis and symb ol ic nature Weber later investigated

in The Protestan t Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism ( 1 920) .

Indeed , t h e overa l l r e l a t ionsh ip b e tween the i d e as of D u rk h e i m

and W e b e r reveals an a p p ar e n t p aradox t h a t w o u l d m e r i t extens ive

invest igat ion . T h e bas ic assumpt ions o f these two thinkers were often

d i a m etrically o p p osed . Weber ' s thought rested on tragic and i r o n i c ass u m p t i o n s . He c o m b i n e d a Nietzschean metaphys ic with a n e o- Kant i a n

methodology. For \Y./ eber , a s for Nietzsche , real ity was anomie . M eaning

ful s tructures were fictive project ions of the h u m a n m i n d . Any n o t i o n of

a correspondence b e tween concept and rea l i ty was o u t of the ques t ion . A

concept d id n o t represent real i ty ; i t actively shaped or even constructed

i t . Knowledge , for Weber , thus had a highly prob lemat ic b as i s . Fundam e nta l co n A i c t , m o reover , was a n inescapable fac t of life. H u m a n values ,

which were cruc ia l in the attempt to impose order on chaos, often exis ted

in a s ta te of incommensurabi l i ty and irreconci lable confl ict wi th one

another . The choice o f values was , i n the las t analysis , the subj e ctive,

existential dec i s ion of the indiv idual , and this u l t imately irrat ional deci

sion determined one's entire p e rs p ective o n real i ty . ( D urkheim provided

a largely cr i t ica l appraisal of the thought of N i e tzsche in his Pragmatisme et sociologie. B u t he seemed to know Ni etzsche's ideas only from second

ary sources . ) Soc i ological method, for Weber, involved the elaborat ion of

"one-sided" analytical models (or "ideal types") of t h e attempts of peop le to

impose order on chaos. In a sense, i t was ult imately a higher-order fict ion

or control led , formally rat ional , utopian exercise : a metafi ctive stylization

of more or less effective and reali ty-constituting social fictions, utopias , and

im aginaries . Moreover, Weber ma in ta ined that research in social sc ience

was init ia lly guided by subj ective values, but once significant problems were

selected, the results ob tained might in some restricted sense be ob jective

and value-neutral . In terms of its conclusions , socia l science confronted an

irrat ional universe with formally rat ional methods , b u t it remained s i lent

ab o u t substantive values.


D u rkhe im osc i l l a ted b e tween a Car tes i an ized n e o - Ka n t i a n a n d a

m o re H egel ian d i alec t i ca l concep t ion of sc ience . H i s t ory, for h i m , was

the scene of a s t ruggle between mean ingful order and a n o m i e chaos . B u t

the prevalence o f order was n o r m a l , a n d excessive a n o m i e was p a t h o

logical . In contra s t to Web er, Durkhe im did n o t find t h e knowledge of

rea l i ty to b e i t s e lf h igh ly p ro b le mat i c . D u rkhei m's e p i s t e m ology was a

var iant of t h e "correspondence" theory o f t ruth . And it u l t i mately was

subord inated to a very t rad i t iona l k ind of m etaphys ic . Except for an

irreducible m argin o f a n o m i e , essent ia l rea l i ty was rat ional ly s t ructured ,

and sc ience could d i scover i t s laws . D urkheim's i d e a of soc ia l sc ience

c lose ly integrated cogni t ive and n o r m a tive aspect s . Values could b e r a t i o n ally k n ow n . A n d a v i a b l e h armony o f values was poss i b l e i n th e

n o r m al s o ci e ty. F r o m D u rkhe im's p e r s p ect ive , Weber was theor iz ing

from wi th in an anomie context and propos ing , a t b es t , a tenuous b as i s

for rat i o n al i ty w i t h i n the confi nes of a n o m i e . From Web e r's pe r spec

tive, D urkhe im w a s b e i n g irrelevantly t rad i t iona l , h o p eless ly na ive , and

b l ind ly u top ian . T h e apparent paradox , however , i s tha t , o n t h e b as is of

such ant i the t i ca l a ss u m pt ions , D u rk h e i m and Web e r ar r ived a t l arge ly

c o m p l e m entary research interests and spec ific a nalyses i n the ir inves

t igat ion of cul ture and s o ci e ty.

D urkhe im class ifi ed P r o t e s t a n t i s m u n d e r ego i sm and s om ew h a t

sketchi ly exp la ined i ts corre lat ion wi th re la tively h i g h s ui c i d e rates ( i n

contras t w i t h J u d a i s m and C atho l i c i sm) by drawing a t t e n t i o n to t h e

a b s e n c e o f so l idar i ty i n a r e l ig ious s o c i e t y tha t i n s t i t u t i o nal ized i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c free enqui ry. Protes tant i sm reduced t o a m i n i m u m the nexus

between symb o l i c cu l t and ex i s tent ia l c o m m u nity that D u rkhe im was

la ter to present as t h e essence of t h e re l igi o us p h en om e n o n . Web e r m ay

n o t have shared t h e p h i l o s o p h ically cr i t ica l in t en t of D u r kh e i m , b u t h e

d i d concur i n t h e essent ia ls o f the analys is .

In i t s extreme inhumanity this doctr ine [predestination] must above all have had one consequence for the l i fe of a generation which surrendered to its magnificent consistency. That was a feel ing of unprecedented inner loneliness of the single individual . I n what was for the man of the age of the Reformation the most important thing in l ife , h i s eterna l sa lvat ion, h e was forced t o meet a dest iny which


had been decreed for h im from eternity. No one could help h im . N o priest . . . . No sacraments . . . . N o church . . . . Finally, even no G o d . For even Christ had died only for the elect , for whose benefit God had decreed his martyrdom from eternity. This, the complete el imination of salvation through the Church and the sacraments (which was i n Lutheranism by no means developed to its final conclusions) , was what fo rmed the absolu tely d ecisive d i fference from Catholicism. The great histor ic process in the development of religions , the el imination of magic from the world [die Entzauberung der Welt - disenchantment] , which had b egun with the old Heb rew prophets and, in conjunction with Hellenist ic scientific thought, had repudiated al l magical means to salvation as superstit ion and s in, came here to i ts logical conclusion. The genuine Puritan even rejected all signs of religious ceremony at the grave and b ur ied his nearest and dearest wi thout song or r itual in order that no superst i t ion, no trust i n the effects of magical and sacramental forces on salvation, should creep in . 3 5

Thus Dowden, whom Web er quoted , wrote : " T h e deepes t community

[wi th G od] i s fo und not in inst i tut ions o r corporat ions or churches but i n t h e secrets o f a sol i tary hear t . " 3 6 Thi s concept ion o f the essential rel igious

s i tuat ion as that of a so l i tary individual whose salvation had b e e n decided

by a total ly transcendent , h idden divinity might be seen as a symbolic

representat ion which s imultaneously made sense o f, and funct ioned to

sus ta in , a sense of melanchol ic i so la t ion and anomie anxie ty in a per iod

of historical t rans i t ion . This might have various consequences including

the format ion of extremely integrated groups under char ismat ic leaders ,

as i n the case of Cromwell 's "army of sa ints . " Here people reacted to ex

treme isolat ion and anxiety, fostered by rel igious symbol ism, by seeking

demanding and mi l i tantly fanatical forms of social integration. But what

concerned Weber was another his tor ical poss ib i l i ty : the relationship of the rel igious doctr ine of predest inat ion and Deus Absconditus ( " Hidden

G o d " ) to an eth ic of "this-worldly asceticism" which combined anxiety

ab o u t one 's fa te with a rigorous form of individual i s t ic self-disc ip l ine ,

achievement, and fo rmally rat ional activity in o ccupat ional life. This re

lat ionship Web er, of course , conceived as vital in the formation of an e l i te

of capi ta l i s t ic entrepreneurs whose infl uence he lped determine the shape

of modern soc ie ty i n the West .


It i s necessary to n o t e , what has o ften been forgotten, tha t the Refo r m a t i o n m e a n t not the e l i m i n a t i o n o f the C h u rch's control over everyday l ife , but ra ther the s u b s t i t u t i o n of a new fo r m of contro l for th e p revious o n e . I t meant a rep u d i at i on of a c o n t rol which was very lax, at tha t t i m e scarcely percept ible i n pract ice , and hardly more than for ma l , in favo r o f a regulat ion of the whole of conduct which , penetrat ing to a l l departments of pr ivate a n d p u b l i c ! i f e , w a s infi nitely burdens o m e a n d earnest ly enforced. 3 7

Thus , where Durkhe im stressed the role of a n o m i e in m o dern his

to ry, Weber e m p h asized the b ir th of a new "nomie" or disc ipl inary e th ic . But Weber h imse lf tended to s i t u a t e the new "nomie" o n t h e fo rmal ly

rat ional level of the ad jus tment of means to ends ; and he perceived a

certa in type o f in s t i tu t i onal ized a n o m i e o n the level o f ends in m o d ern

act ivity. What were t h e re la t ionships a m o n g t h e rel igious doctr ine of

predest inat ion , t h e tota l investment of the sacred in the transcendent ,

the new formally ra t ional "nomie" o r e th ic of ascet ic se lf-d i sc ip l ine in

a cal l ing, cap i ta l i sm , and the e l ement of ins t i tu t iona l ized anomie or

l i m i t lessness o n the level of ends which, according to D urkhe im, was

the negat ion of s u b stantive ra t iona l i ty ? In a sense , the p r o b l e m of the

Protes tant sectarian who b el ieved i n predest inat ion decreed by a h idden

God w a s for Web e r t h e p rob l em o f o b j ect ive ind ices . It w a s t h i s need fo r

a vis ib le s ign of a s ta te of e lec t ion which one could never directly know or b e ent i re ly sure of t h a t p rovided t h e i n tel l i g i b l e b u t u n i n tended l i n k

between t h e Protestant rel igious prob lemat ic a n d t h e ethos o f cap i ta l i sm.

Worldly success i n the form of l i m i tless compet i t ive achiev ing p ursued

wi th a sce t i c r igor and fun ct iona l ra t iona l i ty, a n d conceived as t h e struc

tural m ot ivat ion of work in a n occupat iona l call ing, b e c a m e the vis ible

index of personal salva t i o n . Although he noted the i m p o rtance of o ther factors , i t was the c o m b i n a t ion of ins t i tu t iona l i zed l i m i t lessness on t h e

level o f ends and funct ional ly ra t iona l ca lculat ion a n d d i sc ip l ine on the

level o f means tha t s e e m e d to be the t ruly d i s t inctive cr i ter ion of the

cap i ta l i s t e thos i n Weber's m i n d .

The impu lse t o acquisit ion, pursuit o f gain, of mo ney, has i n itself nothing to do with capital ism. This i m p ulse exists and has existed among waiters, physicians, coachmen, artists , prostitutes, dishonest


officials, soldiers , nobles , crusaders, gamblers, and b eggars . . . . Unlimited greed for gain is not in the least identical with capital ism, and is still less i ts sp ir i t . . . . But capital ism is identical with the pursui t of profit , and forever renewed profit, by means of continuous, rational, capitalistic enterprise . . . . We will define a capitalistic economic action as one which rests on the expectation of profit by the util ization of opportunit ies for exchange, that i s on (formally) peaceful chances of profit . 3 8

This concept ion of capi ta l i sm was not , i t may be added, dependent upon the pr ivate ownership or even control o f the means of product ion;

i t ref erred to the issues of how inst i tut ions funct ioned and the nature of

control . Web e r id entifi ed as tradit ional , i n c o n trast w i t h the capital ist ic

ethos, the att i tude based on a sense of legit imate l imits in the mutua l

adjustment o f needs and ins t i tu t ional ized means of sati sfacti on . Web er's

perspect ive enab led him to emphasize the new "no mie" i n volved i n sober

b o urgeois self-disc ipl ine and rat ional i ty in the adjustment of means to

ends . From D u rkhei m's perspective, this s i tua t ion would appear as one

case of a combinat ion of a pathology of "practical" reason ( inst i tut ionalized

l imi tlessness o r anomie) and a subs idi ary patho logy of "theoretical" reason

(funct ional rat ional i ty directed to l imi tless ends) .

Thus Weber be l ieved he had fou n d a genet ic l ink between rel igious and

economic phenomena which i n the epoch of classical l ibera l i sm tended

to separate into d iscrete inst i tut ional spheres . instead of e laborat ing a

reformist project in the manner of Durkheim, Web er d i spassionately and

i roni cally observed of the fu ture :

No one knows who will l ive in this cage i n the fu ture , or whether at the end of this tremendous development ent ire ly new prophets wi l l ar ise , or there wil l be a great rebirth of o ld ideas and ideals , or, i f nei ther , mechanized petr ificat ion , embel l i shed with a sort of convulsive self- importance. For of the last stage of this cultural development , i t might wel l be truly sa id : "Special is ts without spir i t , sensual ists without heart ; this nul l i ty i magines i t has atta ined a level of civil izat ion never b e fore achieved . " 3 9


From Analysis to Reform

Suicide concluded with proposals for a corporatist reform of modern

society. In presenting his plea for corporative groups, Durkheim was sensitive

to the heri tage of suspicion associated with the idea of corporatism because

of the development of corp orative organizations in the ancien regime. Cer

ta inly, the uses to which corporative establishments were put under fascism,

after Durkheim's death, have compounded this negative reputation. Yet the

cont inuing d iffi culty in resolvi n g the problems discussed by Durkheim,

as well as the emergence of corporative features in all advanced industrial

societ ies , may b e grounds for renewed interest in the specific nature of

Durkhe im's idea of corporatis m .

Suicide contained Durkheim's most pointed concept ion o f the prob

lematic nature of modern society, and whatever one may conclude about his

notion of reform, this work will cont inue to be remembered for its insight

into modern social d i srupt ion and malaise. The modern age, for Durkheim

as for so many thinkers i n the nineteenth century, was an age of transit ion.

It was a period intervening between an earlier type of integrated society

and a hoped-for integrated society of the fu ture. The Division of Labor in

cluded an exploratory and inconclu sive conceptual ization of these types of

integration, and i t concluded with a discussion of pathological phenomena

in modern soc ie ty. Suicide focused i n a more explicit and central way on

modern social pathology. In his key concept of anomie , D u rkheim tried

to account for the severe imbalances , dissociat ions , and contradict ions of

an age of transit ion. The concomitant of anomie in the l ives of people was

profound , at t imes traumatic , disorientation - what other social theorists

discussed as alienat ion . The sociological study of su ic ide was for Durkheim

a precise way to investigate the disruptive features of modern l ife. And his

proposals for reform were based on the fai t h that modern society would i n

t ime achieve legitimate order.

In the concluding sections of Suicide, Durkheim remarked that the rise

of synthetic phi losophies of pessimism was one indication that the current

of social malaise in modern life had passed all b ounds and had attained

a pathological state . In normal states of soci ety, maxims and sayings that

expressed the n e cessary element of suffering in life were not systematized

into a dominant mood or Weltanschauung. They were c o u n terbalanced i n


society and culture by sentiments of a different sort . B u t i n modern soci ety,

pessimism had become the basis of philosophical systems, and this devel

opment was not restricted to isolated philosophers like Schopenhauer.

One must also account for all those who, under different names, start out under the influence of the same spirit . The anarchist, the aesthete, the mystic, the socialist revolutionary, if they do not despair of the future, a t least agree with the pessimist in sharing the same feeling of hatred or disgust for the status quo and the same need to destroy o r escape from reali ty. Collective melancholy would not have invaded consciousness to this point if i t had not been subject to a morbid development . Consequently, the development of suic ide which results from i t i s of the same nature .40

The primary intention of Durkheim was to grasp the over-all nature of the

social system, both in its dominant inst i tut ions and the reactions evoked by

them. Only on this basis could a rational conception of reform be elaborated.

Moral issues were uppermost in D u rkheim's idea of reform, but his under

standing of mo rality was a special one related to the reconstruction of society.

There is no more accurate introduction to h i s conception of reform and i t s

relation to morality than his own words i n the conclusion to Suicide.

Just as su ic ide does not proceed from m an's diffi cult ies i n life, so the means of arrest ing i ts progress i s not to make the struggle less diffi cult and l i fe easier. I f more people ki l l themselves today than formerly, th is i s not because we must make more pa inful efforts to mainta in o u rselves o r because our legi t imate needs are less satisfied ; it i s because we do no t know the l imi t s of our legit imate needs and we do not perceive the meaning of our e ffo rts . I t i s indeed certa in that at al l levels of the social h i e rarchy, average well-being has i n creased, although this increase has not always taken place i n the m o s t equi tab le proport ions . Thus t h e malaise fro m which w e suffer does not come from an increase i n the number and intensity of objective causes of suffering; i t attests , not to a greater economic misery, but to an a larming m o ral m i s e ry.

B u t we m u s t no t deceive ourse lves about the meaning of the word "moral ." When one says of an individual or socia l problem that i t i s entirely moral , one generally means that i t does not respond to

Chapter 4 Suicide and Solidarity 17.3

any treatment but can b e cured only through repeated exhortations, methodical o b j u rgations , in a word thro ugh verbal action. But in real i ty the mental system of a people i s a system of defi ni te fo rces which cannot be deranged or rearranged through s imple injunctions. I t really corresponds to the way social elements are grouped and organized. I t i s far fro m the truth that , in analyzing as "moral" the s ickness of which the abnormal progress of su ic ide i s the sym p t o m , w e in t end t o reduce i t t o s o m e sort o f superfi cial i l lness which can b e conjured away with soft words. On the contrary, the alteration of mora l temperament which is thus revealed bears witness to a profo u n d alterat ion of o u r soc ial s tructure . To heal t h e one , i t is

necessary to reform the o ther . 1 1

Durkheim was one of the first social thinkers to see clearly the crisis of legitimacy and m ean ing in m o d ern soci ety. His t h o u g h t indicated an

awareness of the real s u ffering and genuine values distorted in the ideo

logical reactions of prophets of doom. But he did not advocate a "polit ics

of cultural despair" based on indiscriminate and destructive crit icism of

modernity, romantic nostalgia for an idealized past , and utopian visions

of a to tally integrated and authori tative socie tyY Nor did he celebrate the symptoms of excessive disorientat ion and anomie as the dist inctive marks of

modernity or the recurrent, transhistorical aporias ofWestern m etaphysics.

The intent of his proposals for reform was to extricate the valid element in

inchoate and possibly dangerous strivings for community and shared values

and to embody this valid element in a substantively rational concept ion of

reconstruction in modern soci ety.


Notes

1 . I ( 1 896- 1 8 97) , 404-4 0 5 . The evolution of Richard's ideas indicated that the Annee school had its i nternal confl i cts. Richard i n t ime became one of the most hostile crit ics of Durkheim and a source of the idea that his thought was riddled with unresolved contradict ions. The key issue that antagonized Richard (himself a Protestant) was the increasingly critical edge in Durkheim's sociology o f religion that came down quite negatively upon Protestantism.

2 . Le Suicide (first pub. 1 897; Paris: Presses Universitaires d e France, 1 960) , p . 228 .

3 . Ibid. , p. 352 . 4 . Ibid. , p . 5 . 5 . Ibid. , p. 4 . 6 . "The Sociological Analysis of Social Meanings of Suicide," Archives europee

nnes de sociologie, VII ( 1 966) , 259-260 . 7 . Cf F. Achi l le-Delmas, Psychologie pathologique du suicide (Paris : Alcan,

1 93 3 ) . 8 . For the discussion of psychopathology, see Le Suicide, Book I , chap. i . 9 . Ibid. , p . 3 1 2 . 1 0 . Ibid. , p . 337 . 1 1 . Paris: Alcan, 1 92 2 , p. 3 . Roger Lacombe's strictures are to be found i n his

La Methode sociologique de Durkheim (Paris: Alcan, 1 926 ) , where he dwells on the point that correlations and statistics are relatively uninteresting i f in terpretations are not fleshed out and substantiated.

1 2 . Le Suicide, p. 3 2 5 . 1 3 . Man and Society in an Age ofRecomtruction (New York: Harcourt, Brace &

World, 1 940) , p. 62. 1 4 . Durkheim's assertion that prosperity fostered high suicide rates was challenged

by his disciple Maurice Halbwachs i n his Les Causes du Suicide (Paris: Alcan, 1 93 0 ) . Halbwachs also stressed the need for a clearer conception of the relation of sociology and psychology and criticized Durkheim's tendency to focus upon one-dimensional correlations of suicide rates with factors abstracted from society as a whole. This stress on social psychology led Halbwachs to undertake an important and influential study of collective memory (portions of which have been translated as On Collective Memory, ed., trans . , with a n i n tro. by Lewis A. Coser, Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1 992 ) . Halbwachs noted the importance of urbanism, which overlapped with membership in Protestant sects, and proposed that types of civilization were more i n clusive and historically useful units of analysis . The assertion


that the su icide rate tends to drop with prosperity was further supported by the statisti cal evidence and its interpretation in Andrew F. Henry and James F. Short, Suicide and Homicide (Glencoe, I l l inois : Free Press, 1 954) . The key question was of course whether prosperity was related to uprootedness and frustration. If there was no positive correlation between suicide rates and peaks of a business cycle, there might still be one between suicide and long-term upward changes in a group's position related to basic processes of economic transformation. Neither Halbwachs nor Henry and Short addressed themselves to this broader historical question. The analysis of Henry and Short, however, had the merit of bringing to the center of analytic attention the role of stratification, the concept of relative deprivation, and the relation of the choice of an object of aggression (self or other) to the situation of the relevant group. Suicide was generally fo und to be a response to frustration among high-status groups, for whom a depression had greater impact in terms of relative loss. lv1oreover, a low-status group might become increasingly frustrated in the face of prosperity that it did not share. Aggression bred by frustration in low-status groups, however, found an outlet in homicide rather than sui cide, because the more integrated nature of these groups provided "love objects" upon whom anxiety and frustration might be projected. I n Durkheim's terms, anomie led to suicide only when i t was conjoined with eg01sm.

1 5 . Le Suicide, p. 279. Since the original publication of my study, much attention has been devoted to the important problem of Durkheim's questionable treatment of gender and the way in which it was symptomatic of male anxieties about feminism and "devirilization . " See, for example, Gender and the Politics ofSocial Reform in France, 1870-1914, ed. Elinor A. Accampo et al. (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1 99 5 ) ; Jennifer lv1. Lehmann, Durkheim and Women (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1 994) ; and Janet Hinson Shope, "Separate but Equal: Durkheim's Response to the Woman Quest ion," Sociological Inquiry 64 ( 1 994) , pp. 23-36. See also the Cornell University dissertation of Judith Surkis, "Secularization and Sexuality in Third Republic France , " chap. 3. For a discussion of related problems in the German context, see the Cornell University dissertation ofTracie l\1atysik, " Ethics, femininity, and Psychoanalysis in Early Twentieth-Century German Cultures."

1 6 . Ibid. , p. 324. In his Education morale ( f irst pub. 1 92 5 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 963) , Durkheim continued his attack upon "this dissolving sensation of the infinite" (p. 3 5 ) . Nowhere more than in his correlation of anomie and the quest for infinity was Durkheim closer to an important dimension of Greek philosophy.


1 7 . Le Suicide, pp . 283-284. 1 8 . Ibid. , pp. 284-287. In psychoanalytic terms, i t may be observed that one case

of anomie involved limitless ego ideals, while fatalism resulted from rigid and repressive superego demands. One form of anomie suicide may be fruitfully compared to what Herbert Hendin, in his Suicide and Scandinavia (New Yo rk: Doubleday Anchor, 1 96 5 ) terms "performance suicide." Of one of his cases Hendin writes: "His dreams under hypnosis were of the most elemental kind. In one instance they revealed him running to catch a boat and just miss ing it . I n h i s associations 'missing the boat' symbolized the low opinion which he had of his entire career. His legal ambitions were excessive and he found i t imposs ible to compromise with hi s grandiose success fantasies. The aggressiveness which stemmed from this grandiosity interfered with his actual performance, a constellation frequently observed in patients with extremely high and rigid standards for themselves. What is seen as fai lure causes an enormous amount of self-hatred, and suicide amounts to a self-inflicted p unishment for having failed" (p . 2 6 ) . Hendin suggestively but somewhat s implistically attempts to explain the Scandinavian suicide phenomenon of Sweden and Denmark with high rates but Norway with a low rate by patterns i n child-rearing and their sociopsychological concomitants. His conclusions may readily be translated into Durkheimian terms. In Sweden, Hendin found a combination of anomie and egoism. L imitless ends in performance and achieving were combined with isolation and coldness in in terpersonal relations. An expression in Swedish literally means "to kil l with si lence." In Denmark, h e fo und a strongly integrated and excessively altruistic family structure that, with separation upon the children's reaching adulthood, gave way to uprootedness and feelings of dependency loss . I n Norway, a greater balance was established, and the verbal expression of emotion functioned as a sort of safety valve.

1 9. In his classical article "Social Structure and Anomie," Robert K. Merton posed the problem in terms of a contradiction between l imitless cultural values and limited institutional means of attaining them. This was exemplified for him in the conflict in the United States between the pursuit of wealth and the available opportunities open to members of society for making "big money." After being subjected to criticism on the grounds that he was identifYing normative conflict and anomie, Merton in a rejoinder admitted confusion in his earlier formulation and argued that structural conflicts might lead to anomie in the delimi ted sense of normlessness. The original article and the rejoinder may be found in Social Theory and Social Structure (rev. ed. ; Glencoe, I l l . : Free Press of Glencoe, 1 964) , pp. 1 3 1 - 1 94 . Whatever the semantic gain in this revis ion, it served to divert attention from the problem of institutional-


ized and ideological anomie which t-.1erton seemed to perceive earlier in the American desire for "just a little bit more" of the good things in life regardless of how much one already had. In terms o f Durkheim's formulation, the cases of normlessness, normative contradiction, and normatively constrained or praised limitlessness shared the irrational quality of an absence of an institutionally grounded sense of !egitimate l imits that was essential for reciprocity and solidarity. I t would be interesting to trace the relations between anomie, egoism, and the stress on aporia and double binds in deconstruction. For a discussion relevant to this topic, see my History and Reading: Tocqueville, Foucault, French Studies (Toronto: University ofToronto Press, 2000 ) , esp. chap. 4. I t would also be of interest to investigate the relations between anomie, egoism, and trauma. On this issue, see my Writing History, Writing Trauma (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2 00 1 ) .

2 0 . Le Suicide, p . 324. Compare Nietzsche o n the relation o f infinite desire to egoism: "From an infinite horizon he withdraws into himself, back into the small egoistic circle, where he must become dry and withered; he may poss ibly attain to cleverness but never to wisdom . . . . He i s never enthusiastic, but blinks his eyes and understands how to look for his own profit or his party's in the profit or loss of somebody else" (Friedrich Nietzsche, The [lse and Abuse of History, Indianapolis and New York: Library of the Liberal Arts, 1 9 57 , p. 64 ) .

2 1 . Le Suicide, p . 230 . 2 2 . P. 42 . 2 3 . Le Suicide, p . 325 . Although Durkheim referred to Chateaubriand, it may be

observed that a magnificent anatomy of anomie - indeed a myth of the times - was provided by Balzac in Le Peau de chagrin. See also Education morale, p . 3 5 , where Durkheim refers to Goethe's Faust as the literary personage who may be viewed as "the incarnation par excellence of the sentiment of the infinite ."

24. Le Suicide, p. 326. Here one may refer to the protagonist in Dostoevsky's Notes From Underground. See my discussion in History, Politics, and the Novel ( I thaca, N.Y. : Cornell University Press, 1 987) , chap. 2 .

2 5 . Ibid. , p p . 278-279. 26. "La Science positive de Ia morale en Allemagne," Revue philosophique, XXIV

( 1 887 ) , p. 4 1 . Of major french writers fo llowing Durkhe im , the one with basic assumptions closest to his own was probably Albert Camus . A highly i l luminating essay could be written com paring these two figures who are rarely discussed together. From the initial insight into modern society as one characterized by anomie and anxiety, through a consideration of the problem of suicide, to the ultimate affirmation of a normative sense of l imit s , these


two thinkers defended the type of conventional wisdom which they believed had become highly unconventional in the modern world. On Camus, see my History and Memory after Auschwitz (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1 998) , chap. 3 .

27 . Le Suicide, p . 233 . Compare the early Nietzsche o n the need for l imiting horizons: "A living thing can only be healthy, strong and productive within a certain horizon; if it is incapable of drawing one around itself, or too selfish to lose its own view in another's, it will come to an untimely end" ( The Use and Abuse of History, p. 7 ) .

2 8 . Le Suicide, p . 3 1 1 . 29 . Ibid. , pp. 259-260 . 30 . Ibid. , p . 2 2 2 . 3 1 . Ibid. , pp. 1 6 9- 1 70 . 32 . Ibid. , p. 3 1 1 . 33 . Elie Cohen, Human Behavior in the Concentratz'on Camp (New York: Norton,

1 953 ) , p. 1 5 8 . 34 . Childhood and Society (New York: Norton, 1 95 0 ) , p . 2 3 9 . 3 5 . The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit oJCapitalz'sm (New York: Scribner's , 1 95 8 ) ,

pp . 1 04- 1 0 5 . 3 6 . Ibid. , p . 2 2 1 , n . 1 6 . 37. Ibid. , p. 36. 38 . Ibid. , p. 1 7 . 3 9 . Ibid. , p . 1 8 2 . 4 0 . Le Suicide, p . 424. 4 1 . Ibid. , pp. 444-44 5 . 42 . For an acute analysis of nihil ist ic social criticism i n pre-Nazi Germany, see

Fritz Stern, The Politics of Cultural Despair (first pub. 1 9 6 1 ; Garden City. N.Y.: Doubleday, 1 96 5 ) .

5

Theory and Practice

It is not good for man to live on a war footing in the midst of his immediate com

panions. This sensation of general hostility, the mutual defiance which results from it, the tension which it necessitates are deplorable states when they are chronic. If we love war, we alro love the joys of peace. And the latter have all the more value

for men to the extent that they are more profoundly socialized, that is to say (for the two words are equivalent) more profoundly civilized.

- Preface to t h e second edit ion of

The Division of Labor in Society

Economic fmctions are not ends in themselves. They are only means toward an end and organs ofsocial l�(e. Social life is above all a harmonious community of �(forts, a communion ofmindr and wills with a common end. Society has no raison d' etre �(it does not bring men a little peace - peace in their hearts and peace in

their commerce with each other. If industry can be productive only by troubling this peace and causing war, it is not worth the trouble it costs.

- Professional Ethics and Civic Morals

Sociology, History, and Reform

An intense involvement i n the Dreyfus Affair, the t ime-consuming

preparat ion and edit ing of the Annee sociologique, a growing i n terest in

re l ig ious symbo l i sm, and a related concern with e laborat ing his myst iqueladen socia l ph i l o sophy - all these factors comb ined to prevent Durkheim

from carrying to complet ion two studies in comparative h is tory: a h i s tory

of social ism and a his tory of corporati s m . It i s i mportant to recognize the

int imate connect ion b e tween these two unfi nished projects . They were

related b o th to each other and to his idea of necessary structural change


i n modern soc ie ty. Indeed , they represented the concrete bas is for h i s

a t tempted Aujhebung - h i s dia lect ica l synthesis - of radical i sm, con

servatism, and l iberal ism fo r the achievement of "normality" in modern

soc ie ty. Thus i t makes sense to t reat a s a un i t i n the development of h is

thought those works in which he discussed corporat i sm and socia l i sm: the concluding chapter , on "pract ical consequences , " in Le Suicide; Le

Socialisme; Lefons de sociologie (translated as Proftssional Ethics and Civic Morals ) ; LE ducation morale; and the impor tant preface to the second edi

t ion of De La Division du travail social.

All these works were thought o u t i n t h e per iod extending roughly

from 1 8 96 to 1 90 2 . This may be cons idered the middle per iod in the deve lopment of D u r k h e i m's t hought . Before i t c a m e The Division of Labor

and The Rules of Sociological Method. The broader amb i t i on of the latter

methodologi c a l treat i se was to provide a sociological vers ion of D escartes 's

d iscourse on method . It approached general theory through the uncerta in

perspective impl ic i t in Durkheim's fi rst major work. From i t s concept ion of

soc ia l facts t o i ts mechanis t ic theory of causat ion, The Rules ofSociological Method was t h e e x p l i ci t s ta tement of t h e m o re a n a lyt ica l ly d i ssoc ia ted ,

Cartesianized neo-Kant ian s trand of Durkheim's thought . I t presented

soc ie ty pr imar i ly as a n "obj ectivated" act ion system that soc iologists were

to i nvestigate b y studying discrete , l inear cause-and-effect re lat ionships .

In th is book, D u rkheim tended to focus on the most obj ectifi ed aspects of

social l if e, disregarding the problem of the internal izat ion of soc ia l norms

and the meaningful nature o f human activity. Although ob j ectivity in sociology was always his concern, h e subsequently modified h i s narrow focus

on the "exteriority" and "constraint" of social fa cts and provided greater

insight into the meaning of his fam o u s d ic tum that social facts should b e

treated l ike "things ." After the turn o f t h e century, h e was preoccupied

with preparatory s tud ies for The Elementary Forms and with the revis i o n of

his theoretical assumptions t o accommodate h i s more mature concept ion of the re la t ion of theory to pract ice and o f m e t h o d o l ogy t o ph i l o so phy.

Hence , the specifics of his not ion of structural change in modern soc ie ty

are to be found pr imari ly in the works of his middle pe r iod .

The architectonic goal of D u rkheim's idea o f structu ral reform was

s imple b u t ambi t ious : conscious and s u b s tantively rat ional soc ia l control

of the economy and all forms of part icular ist ic i n terest or power . The el-

Chapter 5 Theory and Practice 18 1

ementary social units i n h i s proposed reform - corpo rative or occupational

groups - would at some signifi cant level b e small enough to provide a

communal , fa ce-to-face mi l i eu for their members . B u t the broader scope of

regional , nat ional , and internat ional exchange in large and highly comp lex

modern societies required more inclusive organization, planning, and social control . Absolu tely fu ndamental at all levels was the existence of autono

mous ly accepted and deeply i nternalized inst i tut ional norms which defi ned

legit imate l imits with respect to differentiated funct ions and individual

assert ion , created the necessary condit ions for reciproci ty, and provided

the basic structure for decis ions i n specific cases and controversies. This ,

in s t a rk out l ine , was the motivating idea o f D urkhe im's venture i n creative a n d h i storical ly i nfo rmed soc ia l refo r m , w h i ch he expl ic i t ly refused to

deta i l in the form of an i temized b l u e p rint . Desp i te his feel ing that soc ia l

act ion involves unpredictable turns and creative elan, he d i d give certain

directives for the attainment of social "health" in modern t imes.

In a cr i t ical review of a work which based i t s analysis of social ism upon

the thought of Marx , D urkheim flatly asserted, "As for us , a l l tha t i s es

sent i a l i n soc ia l i s t doctr ine is fo u n d i n the p h i losophy of Saint- S i m o n . " 1

This statement might b e taken a s the le i tmotif o f L e Socialisme, Durkheim's

only completed work on the history o f soc ia l i sm. 2 H e had begun h i s study

of socia l i sm in part because some of h i s b rightest students were be ing won

over to Marxism. Polemical animus was not total ly absent from h i s Social

isme. Brief b ut str ingent cr i t ic i sm o f Marx was p layed off against extensive

and lavish pra i se of Sa int-S imon. Marx's Cap ital was indeed recognized as the "strongest work" of socia l i s t thought . 3 B u t this accolade was bestowed

almost as a means of damning with fai n t praise . It prefaced an argument

that Capital lacked convincing sci entifi c proofs and s tood o u t only b e cause

of the even greater defi ciencies of other social ist works , j udged fro m a

sc ientifi c p o i n t of view. B u t this a t t i tude was par t of D u rkheim's broader

concept ion of soc ia l i sm as an intense , symptomat ic response and a fervid ideo l ogy - "a cry of grief, somet imes of anger, uttered by men w h o feel

most keenly o u r col lective mala ise ."4 Despi te the a p parent element of rash

generalization in his est imation of social ist l iterature, D u rkheim's argument

did lead him to conclude that, at least o n a symptomat ic level, socia l i sm

had to b e taken ser iously. Sc ient ific refutation of detai led po i nts of social ist

thought was merely a "labor of Penelo pe . " A more dia lecti cally adequate


perspective was needed to discover the causes o f social ist ideo logy i n society

and to ass imilate the elements of truth soc ia l i sm conta ined .

In certain respects, the thought of Saint-Simon had a privileged posit ion

for Durkheim as an approach to a more adequate perspective. Indeed, he

stated that "aside from Cartesianism, there is nothing more important in the entire history of French philosophy. At more than one point these two phi

losophies can legitimately b e reconciled with one another, for theywere both inspired b y the same rationalist fai th . " 5 Thus Saint-Simonism took its place

beside Cartesianism and neo-Kantianism as a constructive force i n shaping

Durkheim's rationalist perspective.

This cons iderat ion helps to s i tuate more precisely the influence of Comte on Durkhei m's search for th e laws of soc ia l l i fe . Durkheim scored

the injustice of Comte's reference to his association with Saint-Simon as a

"morbid liaison in his early youth with a depraved j uggler. "6 According to

Durkheim, Comte clearly owed Saint-Simon much more than he sometimes

acknowledged. But Durkheim admitted that it was no easy task to d iscover

unity or coherence in Saint-Simon's thought. His work was "a loose series of

papers, i n numerable brochures, p lans and l ists of articles forever out l ined b u t never realized . " 7 Durkheim w a s no t one t o underestimate the importance of

organization and synthesis i n relation to outb ursts o f genius and beguiling

digressions. I n Socialism he asserted that the honor of being the founding

father of sociology, currently ascribed to Comte, should in j u stice be awarded

to Saint-Simon. In a later article, D urkheim repeated the assertion that " in a

sense all the fundamental ideas of Comte's sociology may already be found in Saint-Simon."8 But he added the stricture that the "truly creative act consists

not in throwing out a few beau tiful i d eas which beguile the intelligence b u t

in grasping ideas firmly i n order to make them fecund b y placing them i n

contact with things, coordinating them, providing in i tial proofs i n a manner

that makes ideas bo th logically assimilable and open to verifi cation by oth

ers. This is what Comte did for social science . . . and it i s why he deserves to be considered its father and why the name soc io logy which he gave the new

science remains definit ive."9

Thus Saint-Simon was the charismatic inspirat ion for social science,

but Comte was i ts systematic organizer. In his own analysis of Saint-Simon, Durkheim undoub tedly saw the earl ier prophet of Paris through the prism

provided by the more discipl ined thought of Comte. Aside fro m its relation

Chapter 5 Theory and Practice 183

to his Cartesianized neo-Kantianism, Durkheim's init ia l emphasis upon the

"exteriori ty" and "constraint" of thinglike "social facts" may have owed a great

deal to the leaden gray social world of C o m te . Comte , however, was explicit

in expressing his penchant for authoritarian hierarchies and bureaucratic

structures for exercising control. His idea of consensus and order has been

fittingly described as a Catholicism without Christianity. Even Comte's latter

day openness to the influence of brotherhood and love remained permeated with idiosyncratic fantasies, and it culminated intellectually in a "religion of

h u manity" which was often l i tt le more than an individualistic worship of

heroes of the past . D urkhe im increasi ngly m oved away fro m this frame of

reference in an attempt to combine institutional constraint with comm unal sent iment . This idea of socia l normal i ty was also th e poi n t of departure i n

h i s interpretation of religion.

l E C o m te went to extremes in h i s po lytechniciens admira t ion for forma l

rat ional i ty and b ureaucrat ic order , Sa int- S i m o n , in Durkheim's op in ion ,

went too far t o t h e oppos i te extreme of romant i c pa s s ion and spontane i ty.

This j udgment was in fac t the sole bas i s of the cr i t i c i sm of Sa int- S i m o n in Durkheim's work o n socia l i sm. In one s t rand of h i s argu m e n t , Durkheim

affirmed the mind-body dual i sm i n uncom pr omis ing fo r m . Hi s react ion

to Sa int -S imon's ins istence on the erot ic aspect of love was to remark that

his predecessor fai led to apprec iate the Christ ian m essage. The pantheist ic ,

pagan thrust of Saint-Simon's New Christianity subverted the Christ ian idea

tha t " the divine, b o u n d and as if i m prisoned in m atter, t ends to free i tself

to return to G od , from Whom it cam e . " 10 Such sent iments, which were

prominent in Durkheim's social m e taphysic , were stro ngly represented in

the out look of the fine jleur of republ ican sp i r i tua l i s t ic ph i losophers who

were often D u rkheim's intended audience and reference group.

A second strand of Durkheim's argument appl ied to the fantasies of

a total l iberat ion of the erot ic that were prevalent among one group of

Sa int -S imonians . I t also appl ied to i m ages of consumer bl i ss , eulogies of

u n l i m ired e n trepreneur ia l d rive, a n d the genera l i za t ion of Promethean

values . Indeed , Durkhe im argued that the thought of Sa int -S imon and

the worldly phi losophy of the ideol ogists of capi ta l i sm - the economists

- were d ifferent symp to m a ti c express ions of "the s a m e s o c i a l s ta te"

and shared "the same sensuous and ut i l i tar ian tendency" and the same

"fundamental pr inc ip le . " 1 1 For D u rkhe im , th i s pr inc ip le of endless need


and l imit less assert ion as a dominant soc ia l force was pathogenic i n al l

i t s m anifestat ions , including the technocrat ic and the erot ic . In his bas ic

c r i t ique of Sa int-S imon, Durkheim in fact uttered certain str ictures that

were to be repeated verbat im in h i s discuss ion of anomie i n Suicide. H e

concluded that ul t im ately Saint-Simon offered "as a remedy an aggravation of the evil . " 12

What were the elements in Saint-Sim on's conception of reform that

Durkheim b elieved were to be detached from their anomie context and

given new meaning in a desirable state of society? In contrast to insistently

egalitarian as well as revolutionary views, D urkheim's very definit ion of so

cialism depended p rimarily on the perspective of Saint-Simon: "We denote as socia l ist every doctri n e which demands the connect ion of all economic

fu nctions, or of certain among them, which are at the present t ime d i ffuse

to the directing and conscious centers of society." 1 3 In contrast with Comte,

Saint-Simon did not b el i eve that the division of labor necessarily led to social

disintegration. Saint-Simon's idea of socialism embodied his conception of

the manner in which organic soli darity among highly differentiated functions could be generated in modern soci ety.

In accepting this conception of social ism, Durkheim rejected definitions

based on the abol i t ion of private property, collectivism, and the working

class. On the subject of property, he ob served that i\1arx himself envisioned

the collective ownership only of the means of production. The basic ques

t ion was the relationship of familial inheritance, collective ownership of the

means of production, and individual property. Durkheim's own corporatist proposals would embody his specific answer to this question. But he noted in

a prefatory manner that criticism of inheritance involved the most complete

and radical affirmation of the right of private property in history. Inheritance

was a vestige of "old famil ial communism." It had nothing to do with the

achievement or work of the individual. "In order that property may be said

to be truly individual, i t is necessary that it be the work of the individual and of h i m a lone . " In t h i s sense, "private property is that which begins with

the indivi dual and ends with him." Thus the decline of the importance of

kinship had two institutional consequences that were yet to b e fully realized:

the restriction of private prop erty to the individual who acquired i t and the

creation of a more significant social agency in modern society for the trans

mission of wealth and capital . 1 4


Mo reover, collectivism i n general was not spec ific to soc ia l i sm; ac

cording to Durkhe im, "There has never been a soc ie ty in which private

interests have n o t been subordinated to social ends; for this subordina

tion i s the very condi t ion of all community l ife . " 1 5 To the charge that

collect ivism meant author i tar ian i sm, Durkhe im answered, "If there is an authoritar ian soc ia l i sm, there is a lso one which i s essentially demo

cra t i c. " 1 6 Nor could exclusive concern for the fat e of the working class

be identifi ed with soc ia l i sm. The b etterment of workers ' lives was one

goal of the organ izat ion of the economy, " jus t as class war i s only one of

the means b y which th is reorganizat ion could resul t , o n e aspect of the

h is tor ic development produc ing i t . " 1 7 S o cial ists were correct in arguing t h a t "there is presently an e n t i re segment of the e c o n o m i c world w h i ch i s

not truly and directly integrated into soc i e ty. " Members of the working

class "are not full-fl edged m e m b ers of soc ie ty, s ince they part ic ipate in the communi ty's life only through an imposed medium" - the capi ta l i s t

class which dep rives workers of s o cia l j us t i ce . 1 8 Socia l i s ts were a lso right

in arguing that the legitimate demands of the explo i ted could not be m e t

by we lfare do l e s or char i ty. " C h arity o rganizes n o t h i ng . I t m ai n ta in s t h e

status q u o , i t can only attenuate the i n d ividual s u ffer ing that th i s lack of

organizat ion engenders . " 1 9 Only through structural change that would

provi de i ns t i tu t ions for the regulat ion of the economy and a l l groups

involved i n i t , not thro ugh measures restr icted to the working class alone,

might social j u s t ice b e created in m o d e r n soc i ety.

What was Durkheim's concept ion of the relat ion of sociology to history and ethnograp hy, and what were the implicat ions of the relat ionship fo r h i s i d ea of reform in m o d ern soc ie ty? A general answer to these quest ions

i s provided by the dual bases of D urkheimism: the hypothet ica l "tree"

of soc ia l l i fe and the d i s t inct ion b e tween "normality" and "patho logy." Durkheim clearly rejected the concept ion of unil inear evolut ion in Comte's

famous law of the three stages:

Whatever Pascal may have said - and Comte mistakenly took up his celebrated formula - mankind cannot b e compared to a man who, having lived through all pas t centuries, still sub sists. Rather, humanity resembles an immense family whose d i fferent branches, which have increasingly diverged from one ano ther, have become l ittle by l i t t le


detached from the common trunk to live their own lives. Besides , what assurance i s there that this common trunk ever existed?20

In his guiding model of the tree of sociocultural lif e, Durkheim combined

a fl exible theory of the transhistorical with a notion of different "social species"

or types. Hi s conception of the common trunk and its relation to "primi tive"

societies owed much to Rousseau. His idea of typological branches and its rela

t ion to history derived in large part from Saint-Simon. H e was also indebted

to Saint-Simon in his specific conception of modern history, as well as in his

more comprehens ive ideas of social normal i ty and pathology. As ide from the

influence of earlier social theorists, this chapter of D u rkheim's thought was

of course also permeated with b iological analogies, at t imes with confusing

results. On the whole, however, D urkheim recognized the l imitations as well

as the value of the "organismic" metaphor.

The trunk of the tree of social life represented the elementary conditions or "fu nctional prereq u is i tes" of society. They were approximated in the most

clear and distinct fo rm in "primi tive" societies. And at times Durkheim, with

some misgiving, converted his logical model into an evolutionary timetable

by arguing that the "common trunk" was indeed p resent in its pure form in

"totemic society." The more general methodological point was that "primi tive"

societies in their relative simplicity presented privileged cases for "crucial

experiments" which attempted to deduce the transhistorical bases of society

and culture.

In this respect, D u rkheim und erwent a significant change of opinion . H i s

early thought, e .g . , in The Rules ofSociological Method, tended t o denigrate

the importance of ethnography in comparison with histori ography.2 1 Under

the combined impact of better ethnographic research in the field and a shift

in theoretical and philosophical focus , his later thought made ethnography t h e anchor p o i n t of general socio logy (or, in t h e sense of Levi-Strauss, of

anthropology). In The Elementary Forms, Durkheim chided historians for

ignoring the theoretical importance of ethnographic material for an under

standing of the transhistorical bases of society that the objects of historical

research would reveal in different manifestations.22 One of the examples he

was fon d of citing was the relation of Polynesian taboo to Roman sacer - a po int which Marc Bloch would develop in his study of royal rituals of heal

ing, Les Rois thaumaturges.


B u t Durkhe im never lost interest in the relat ion of so ciology to his tory

and i ts i m p o rtance for the defi nit ion of socia l types . And th i s interest was

especial ly marked in the works of h i s midd le p eri o d . The problem of the

re la t ion of h i s tory to soc io logy gave rise , in Durkhe im's France, to disci

pl inary squabbles and imper i a l i s t i c pos tur ing that accorded i l l with his idea of "organic sol idar i ty ." H owever i m p o rt a n t these debates may h ave

been for the p l ay of persona l i ty, the defi ni t ion of fi elds o f competence ,

compet i tive profess ional c l a ims to ins t i tu t ional autonomy and author i ty

over o b j e cts of d iscourse and p ract ice , and the h is tor ica l deve lopment of

the d i sc ip l ines , t h e i r in te l l ec tua l fo undat ion w a s o ften min ima lY

Indeed , i t i s s ignificant tha t the deba t e over h is tor ic i sm never reached in France the he i ghts o f i n t ensity and divis iveness that i t d id in G e rmany.

O n e obvious reason was that h i s tor ic i sm had not made as great an impact

i n France and , therefo r e , d id not form as i m p o s i n g a n obstacle t o think

ers more concerned with modes of exper ience o r i en ted to the present o r

fu ture . In France , real i sm i n the novel h a d , i n the works o f such fi gures

as Balzac , app l i ed to contemporary rea l i t ies pr inc ip le s of u n d e rs tanding t h a t , in G er m a n y, h ad b een largely res tr ic ted to an apprec ia t ion of t h e

pas t . And i n s o m e o n e l ike Balzac the resul t was a v i s ionary real ism that

w a s sens i tive t o the ro le of sym b o l and myth i n cul ture . Real ism i n the

novel dec l ined toward the end of the n ineteenth century. To some extent ,

D u rkhe imian soc io logy, i n i t s a t tempt t o penet ra te contemporary socia l

rea l i t ies , may be seen as the he i r of the rea l i s t ic novel . It i s , however,

t rue that D u rkheim's early thought shared features o f natura l i sm, whi le his later thought conceived values and symbols i n a manner reminiscent

of sym b ol i sm . To th i s extent , the develo p m e n t of his thought para l le led

the d iv is ion of l i terature in to natura l i s t ic and symbol i s t tendencies . B u t

on i t s m o r e d ia lect ica l o r re la t ional s i d e , D urkheim's thought re ta ined

the intent ion to be fo u n d i n the v i s ionary rea l i sm of a Balzac . And i t

d i d th is i n a manner that ind ica ted n o t only a n i n creas ing awareness of

th e ro le of a ffect and myth i n soc i e ty but a l so some sens i t iv i ty to t h e

problem o f integrat ing a concept ion o f modern soc i e ty wi th an under

s tanding of h i s tor ica l develo p m e n t . The goal of a comprehensive or even

tota l iz ing soc ia l h i s tory was a feature of the Durkhe imian her i tage to b e

preserved and develo p e d b y the A n nales schoo l under �1 arc B loch a n d

Lucien Febvre.


O n a theoret ica l level , Durkheim c o nceived the bas ic re lat ionship

b e tween history and soc io logy to b e one of i n terdisc ipl inary coopera

tion in the defini t ion of signifi cant problems . He observed that s tudies

dea l ing wi th soc ia l phenomena presented a strange d ichotomy. O n one

s ide , there was "a rather inchoate mult i tude of sc iences or quasi-sc iences which had the same ob j ec t but were ignorant of their kinship and the

profo un d unity of the facts they studied, o ften only vaguely sensing their

rat ional i ty." On the other s ide was sociology, "which was aware of th i s

unity b ut which gl ided too high above the facts to have any effec t u p o n

t h e way in which they were s tud i ed . " Thus the most urgent reform was

"to make the soc io logical idea descend into the special techniques and in

t h a t way transform them i n t o real soc ia l sc iences . " O n ly in th i s way could

sociology become more than an "abstract metaphysics , " and the works of

special ists more than "monographs wi thout e i ther l inks to one another

or explanatory val u e . " 24

Methodologically, tradit ional histo riography approached the s tudy of

society through a narrat ive of events and t h e lives of individuals . Without

a t h e o retical complement , n a rrative was not exp lanato ry, because it d id not

address itself to the problem of comparison. " History makes a l l compar i

sons imposs ib le , because i t arranges facts i n l inear ser ies and on d ifferent

levels. Preoccupied with dist inguishing phenomena from one another and

marking the place of each in t ime, the historian loses sight of s imilar i t ies . "25

The recounting of a series of disparate facts d id not const i tute a logical

ordering pr inc ip le . For chronology was, as a rule , merely a more famil iar

form of chaos . Here Durkheim did not address the specific kind of order

attr ibuted or imparted to facts through var iet ies of narrative which could

not be reduced to chronology alone. His more social-scientifi c idea of

order would also be shared b y those affil iated with the Amzales which

would confront the poss ib i l i t i es of narrative only long after D u rkheim's

death . Durkheim's po in t was, however, well taken insofar as an argument

o r evalua tive o ri en ta t ion e m b edded in a convent iona l n a rrative is n o t

cr i t i ca l ly o p e n fo r inspect ion a n d debate and m u s t b e extr icated and more

expl ic i tly formulated to be an object o f cognitively and e th icopol i tically

responsible investigat ion .

The comp arative method was for Durkheim t h e laboratory of a more

analytic, explanatory, and norm atively expl ic i t approach to the s tudy of


society, for i t represented the social scientist 's analogue of experimentation:

"Claude Bernard remarked long ago that the essence of experimentation

is not the operator's abi l i ty to produce phenomena artifici ally. Artifice is

only one means whose goal i s t o place the fact under study i n different

circumstances and to see i t in d ifferent fo rms so that relevant comparisons may b e made ." 2 6 But Durkheim was especially wary of the formal ist ic

temptat ions of an analytic and model-bui lding sociology. In a direct criti

cism of Spencer and Comte , he remarked that the sociologist's "excessively

general interpretations are impotent in contact with the facts" and that this

impotence had "in part produced the distrust that history has often fel t

for sociology. " 2 7 H e also explicitly re jected Georg Simm el's conception o f sociology a s t h e elaboration of ideal-typical constructs ( e . g . , forms of c o m

munity, d ifferentiat ion, domination, stratificati on , and conflict) . Du rkheim

recognized that a science had to be formed on the basis of abstract ideas and

analytic distinctions. But he insisted: "It i s necessary that abstractions be

methodically elaborated and that they divide facts according to their natural

art iculat ions. Otherwise abstractions degenerate into imaginary constructs and a vain mythology. " 28

Methodologica lly, these ideas often relied on a very conservative if not

naive epistemology. B u t they also led t o a focus on inst i tut ions and to a

desire fo r a close working relationship with history. "Inst i tut ions have to

exterior incidents the same relationship as the mode and functioning of

organs in the individual have to the various actions which fill our daily

lives. Only through an inst i tut ional focus can history cease to be a narrative study and open itself to scientific analysi s . " Events like "wars, peace treaties, intrigues of courts or assemblies , or the acts of statesmen" seemed to

follow no definite laws. In any event, " i f these laws exist , they are the most

difficult to discover." On the other hand, " inst i tut ions - while of course

evolving - conserve their essential traits during long periods of time and

sometimes during an entire collective existence, because they express what is most profoundly cons t itut ive of any social organizat ion . " I nst i tut ions

also presented "striking s imilar i t ies" in different societ ies . "Thus typologies

become possible and compara tive history is born . "29

Hence sociology was in essence a comparative study of the genesis, struc

ture, and functioning of inst itut ions. To the list in this definition, the later

Durkheim would undoub tedly have added the problem of the relation of


institutions to bel iefs, values, and i deologies. Referring to his own professor

of history, for whom this problem was a central issue, Durkheim ob served in

the preface to the first volume of the Annee socio!ogique:

History can be a science only to the extent that i t explains, and explanation cannot proceed except through comparison. Otherwise, even simple description is hardly possible ; one cannot adequately describe a unique fact , or a fact of which one has only rare instances, because one does not see i t adequately . . . . Fustel de Coulanges was fon d of repeating that true sociology i s history: nothing is more incontestable, provided tha t h is tory is carr ied on sociologi cal ly.30

Sociology, as Durkheim once p u t i t , was like the grammar of historyY

C hanging the metaphor, he observed that history played, " in the realm

of social realit ies , a role analogous to that of the microscope in the study

of nature ."3 2 In an important review of works by Gaetano Salvemini and

Benedetto Croce, Durkheim argued that history as a "nomothetic" ( lawseeking) science and history as an " id i ographic" ( particularizing) art were

"destined to become inseparab le . " There was no opposit ion or paralyzing

antinomy b e tween them, b u t "only differences of degre e . " S cientifi c history,

or sociology, could not do without the "direct observation of concrete facts ."

And history had to become informed by the general pr inciples of sociol

ogy. All history required select ion among facts , and this , in turn, implied

the use of cr i ter ia that made comparison poss ible . "In reality, " Durkheim concluded, " there are not two d i s t inct disc ipl ines but two d i fferent po in t s

of view which, far from excluding one another, presuppose one another ."33

Except for his insistence on cooperat ion, Durkheim did not address the

problem of inst i tut ional implications of this observation for the organization

of disciplines in the univers i ty.

We have already had reason to note that D u rkheim's actual practice a t t imes diverged fro m the theoretical posit ion indicated above. Perhaps the one

work in which his analysis both came closest to the history of the historians

and made an informative use of narrative was his Evolution pt!dagogique en France.34 This work was restricted to the development of education in France.

But it clearly was based on broad "comparative" knowledge of different social

systems. Its focus was the development of ideologies of education in the context of the evolution of inst i tut ions . The result was a remarkable social


history of ideas that revealed a sense of i l luminating detai l and a sensitivity to the complexity of social life often absent in D urkheim's more famous

works. Indeed, the highest accolade one can bestow upon th i s s tudy i s a

criterion of all good history: its argument bel ies summ ary.

How were Durkheim's methodological views related to evaluat ion and reform? D u rkheim apparently did not believe that the histor ical process

as a whole had a meaningful plot or structure . He did not, for example ,

subscr ibe to H egel's theodicy of his tory. History did not have a meaning.

But people in society part ic ipated in the creation of at least l imited mean

ing, which existed in a tense dialect ic with anomie forces . At least by

implicat ion, Durkheim seemed to envisage the histor ical p rocess as one of osc i l l a t ion between varying states of order and chaos - t h e "organic" a n d

"crit ical" periods of Saint-Simon.

Yet Durkhei m's idea of the re lat ion of conscious human act ion to this

process was never clearly stated. His evolutionary optimism seemed to imply

that there was an impersonal or unconscious process that effected, over t ime,

a development of society i n the direct ion of integration and viable order. Most often, h is tendency in h i s to rical a n alysis was to de-emph asize t h e role

of intent ional action in attempts to shape meaningful forms of existence.

At t imes he did attribute some weight to individual deviance o r exceptional

p erformance as a force for social change. For example, he presented great

phi losophers , l ike Socrates , as individuals who crystallized with heightened

perceptiveness the tendencies of an age and acted as heralds of the future .

Bu t he certainly rejected a "great man" interpretat ion of history. And generally he insisted in extreme fashion on the role of impersonal processes and

inst i tut ional forces in a history devoid of proper names.

One problem was that D u rkheim proved unable to integrate fully, or at

least to relate intel l igib ly, a methodology geared to causal analysis and one

sensi tive to meanings. The ques t ion of meaning and i t s l imits would have

required closer attention to the role of concrete agents in history, b o th as

i nd iv iduals and in groups . I n h i s later e m p h as is on in ternal ized values a n d

"collective representat ions," Durkheim recognized t h e importance o f the

perception and ideo logical interpretation of socia l and cultural phenomena.

But he never worked out an adequate notion of the dialect ical relat ion of these factors to impersonal processes and long-term structural causation. Hi s

only a t t empt to account for the genesis of "collective representations" was


the vague idea that they somehow emerged from the "collective substratum"

before attaining a relative autonomy in entering into combinations with one

another. 3 5 This idea amounted at best t o a reformulat ion of the not ion that

social existence preceded social consciousness - a reformulat ion which was vaguer than the �1arxist variant, s ince it d id not contain even a rudimentary theory of the format ion of ideologies . D u rkheim would have gained

much from closer attention to the contemp orary German controversy over methods (Methodenstreit) , from which Max Weber benefi ted so greatly.

D urkhei m's dominant pos i t i on was well expressed in an exchange

with the histor ian Charles Seignobos. Seignobos himself took an extreme

Rankean pos i t ion on the importance of individual will in history and of eyew i t n ess reports in h i stori ograp hy. Durkhe im asserted:

The quest ion i s t o know i f in history one can really admit only consc ious causes , t h o s e w h i c h m e n them selves a t t r i b u t e to the events and ac t i ons of which t h ey are agents . . . . I t is n o t a quest ion of events but of inner m o tives which could have determined these events. How may one know these motives? There are only two poss ible procedures . Either one tr ies to discover them objectively by an experimental method: neither the agents nor the witnesses of the events were able to do th i s . O r one tr ies to arrive a t t h e m by an inner method of introspect ion . . . . Now everyone knows how much consciousness is full of i l lus ions . For a long time, there has not been a psychologist who be l i eves introspect ion can reach to profound causes . Every causal relat ion is unconscious , and i t must b e found after the event; b y i n trospection one arrives only at facts b u t never at causes.36

O n the basis of this comment, one might have expected D u rkheim to

pay more sustained attention to the problem of collective psychology in

other than the common-sensical terms on which he often rel ied . I have

already mentioned this deficit in his thought . His not ion of an unconscious

remained inertly structural and largely unrelated to such processes as re

press ion , denial , and displacement . And he did not work o u t a concept

of subl imat ion which would seem required for his understanding of the

elaborat i o n and internal izat ion of des ired and desirable norms and values .

Another difficulty generated b y h i s approach i s that i t seemed to leave his


calls to act ion i n the present suspended i n mid-air , for i t offered l i t t le b asis

for existential commitment to a col lective pro jec t . B u t in his concept ion

of social act ion in modern society, D urkheim d id seem to see a signifi cant

role for m o tivated inquiry into the causes of disorientat ion and conscious attempts to conceive and implement desirable change. A constant theme of his thought was that a historical ly informed sociology would give people

some measure of control over the histor ical process . How did a sociological

consciousness offer this poss ibi l i ty?

Combined with the "crucial exper iment , " comparative history was

a means of arriving at a not ion of the tree of social l ife . Ethnography,

when subjected to theoret ical e laborat ion , was especi ally important for t h e deve l o p m e n t of an idea of t h e t ransh i s tor ica l b ases o f cu l ture and

society. C o mparative history i l lustrated and tested the results of th i s theo

ret ical elaborat ion. More specifi cally, i t made possible the del ineat ion of

soc i a l types or "species" and furnished t e s t cases of ways i n which types

of soc ia l structure funct ioned in normal or pathological ways. Relevant

comparison also i l luminated genet ic processes of "becoming , " thereby

providing knowledge of trends in various socia l s i tua t ions . In accordance

with Comte's dictum "Sa voir pour prevoir ; prevoir p o u r pouvoir" ( " Know

in order to foresee ; foresee in order to b e able to contro l " ) , knowledge

offered effective ins ight into the dangers and poss ib i l i t i es of alternative

courses of social act ion .

Aside from incorpo rating b i ological analogies falling somewhere be

tween Darwin and Lamarck, Durkhei m's concepts of normality and pathology were more sophis t icated versions o f Sa int-S imon's idea of organic and

crit ical per iods in histo ry. Like Sa int -Simon, Durkheim bel i eved modern

society to be , in signifi cant ways , pathological . He discussed at length and

with apparent agreement Sa int-S imon's model of evolut ion i n Western

Europe in terms of a growing confl ict b e tween a rel igio-mil i tary and a

sc ient ific- industr ia l type of soci ety. In France, this had culminated in the great Revo lu t ion , wh ose nature , causat i o n , and consequences Durkheim

saw in a basical ly Sa int-S imonian way:

A two-fold need gave rise to it : the need to be extricated from the past and the need to organize the present. The Revolution met only the first of these needs. I t succeeded in striking the final blows at the


old system. It abolished all that remained of feudalism - even royal authority - and all that survived fro m the old temporal power. But on the land thus cleared, the Revolut ion bui l t nothing new. It asserted that one was no longer obliged to accept t h e old bel i efs but did not attempt to elaborate a new body of rational bel iefs that all minds could accept . -' 7

The Revolut ion had destroyed the old order, b u t it miscarried in the

creation of the new. It gave b ir th to the highest ideals of modern society,

b u t i t d id n o t specify and establish these ideals in inst i tut ions and rational

be l i efs. At the start of t h e nineteenth century, after the Revolut ion h ad

run its course , the bas ic problem of a new social order was presented i n

the same terms as i n 1 789 . Only the problem h a d become more urgent. A

stabil ized revolut ionary sett lement was, for Durkheim, necessary " if one

does no t wish to see each crisis produce another , exasperation the chronic

state of society, and fin ally, dis integrat ion m ore or less the result ." This

was the way in which Saint-Simon had posed the socia l quest ion, and for

Durkheim i t could not " b e posed with greater profundi ty. "3 8

Durkheim's later thought frequently revealed the infl uence of Bergson's

ideas of creative evolut ion and elan vital. By means of these concept ions ,

he was able to i ntegrate some of the Prometheanism of Saint-Simon into

his perspective. Thus he stressed m o re o ften the creative s ide of anomie

and its re lat ion t o newer cultural poss ib i l i t ies . This tendency can be fo und in The Elementary Forms , notably in its conception of the generat ive role

of col lective effervescence. It i s also evident i n the only completed sect ion

of h i s projected magnum opus "La Morale" :

Life, a l l lif e, i s r ich with an infi nite number of seeds of every varie ty, of which s o m e are a t present developed and correspond especial ly to the present exigencies of the mi l i eu b u t of which many are dormant, t empo rarily unused, and undevelo p e d . These wil l perhaps b e awakened t o m orrow under new circumstances . All l ife is change and is refactory to static states. A living be ing is n o t made for a single end ; i t may lend itself to very d i fferent ends and to mul t ip le s i tua t ions . . . . So m u ch the more i s th i s t rue o f human nature : history is not only the natural framework of human l ife ; man is a product of h i s tory. 39


I n his Evolution p edagogique, D u rkheim ins is ted that i t was imposs ib le

a t any given m o m e n t to draw u p a b luepr int o f human nature :

F o r the wealth of past product ion does not i n the leas t author ize us to assign a l imit to the product ion of the future or to think that a da y wil l ever come when man, having reached the end of h i s creation, wi l l be condemned to repeat himself perpetually. Thus one arrives at a concept ion of man, no t as a system of defi nite e lements which may be numbered , but as an infinitely fl ex ib le and versati le fo rce capable of taking on the most diverse aspects under the pressure of ever renewed circumstances .40

Thus D urkheim arrived at a very fl exible idea of the hypothet ical

t runk of the tree of social life: i t represented an unl imited set of cul tural

poss ib i l i t i es . Each type of society would realize a l imited subset of these

poss ib i l i t ies in normal or pathological form. Although cultural poss ibi l i t ies

were unl imited in theory, any combination of them i n a normal state of

soc i e ty wou ld i t s e l f b e l imi t ed and would inst i l l i n members o f society a

normative sense of l imits leavened only by a creative margin of anomie .

Especially significant i n L'Evolution p edagogique was Durkhei m's conception

of the Middle Ages. For Saint-Simon, of course , the sociological interest of

the m e d i eval period was its achievement of one poss ib le fo rm of organic

integrati o n . Although Durkheim never ful ly adhered to an ideal ized view

of the Middle Ages, he did present i t as a period based on a tense and

creative balance b e tween fai th and reason, spontaneity and ins t i tu t ionally

grounded constraint . There was for D urkheim "something exciting and

dramatic" in the spectacle o ffered by "this tormented epoch tossed b e tween respect for t rad i t i on a n d the call o f free enqu i ry." T h i s per iod was far from

be ing "plunged i n a sort of qu ie tude and intel lectual torpor . " It was in fact

" internally divided and drawn in contradictory direct ions ." D u rkhei m's

react ion to this state of affairs may come as a surprise to those who have

presented h i m as the rigid, if n o t authoritar ian, champion of Cartesian constraint, fo rmal rat ional ity, and st i l l - l ife order in soc iety.

This i s one of the moments when the human sp ir i t was most full of effervescence and creative of new things . . . . Men had n o t yet tr ied to separate these two inseparable aspects of human life [ i . e . , fai th


and reason] . Men had not yet undertaken the canalization and the damming up o f these two great inte l lec tua l and moral currents in a va in attempt to prevent them fro m mee ting! H o w much more living was t h i s genera l and tumul tuous m e lee of al l ideas and a l l sentiments than the artifi cial and apparent calm o f t h e centuries which fo l lowed! . . . We must indeed m o d i fy our national hum or. We must again fi nd the taste for free and varied l ife with all the accidents and irregularit ies i t impl i e s . 4 1

Images of organic growth and relatively slow evolut ion app l i ed only

to development within a normal state of society or organic p e ri o d . The

creat ion of normality in mod ernity was a col lect ive p ro j ec t . And even

within the normal state, society was not a static ob j ec t b u t a living whole

that overcame general ized anomie through a tense , dynamic balance of

the essential elements of social "health ." D urkheim opposed neither the

study of history nor the vi tal element of creative change in social life. H i s

polemical a n i m u s was reserved for pathology in the sense of generalized

anomie , excess, and runaway change; and i t impl ied a repudiat ion of the

type of "h i storicism" which legi t imated anomie or i t s concomitants in a

"transit ional" per iod of uncontrolled change. Thus Durkheim observed of

his interest i n social s tructure :

This branch of sociology is not a science of the p u rely stat ic . For this reason, we deem i t improper to adopt this term [of Comte ] , which expresses p o orly the po int of view from which society ought to be considered. I t i s not a quest ion, as has somet imes been sa id [by John Stuart Mil l , following Comte ] , of considering society at a given moment, immob il ized by an abstraction, b u t on the contrary, of analyzing its formation and accounting for i t . No d o u b t the phenomena that have to do with structure have something more stable about them than h ave functional phenomena. But b e tween these two orders of f act there are only differences of degree. S tructure itself is encountered in becoming [le devenir] , and one can i l luminate i t only i f one does n o t lose s ight of the process o f becomi ng. Structure is formed and dis i ntegrated continually. I t is life that has arrived at a certain degree of consol idat ion. To dist inguish i t fro m the life from which i t derives or fro m the life which i t determines would amount to dissociating inseparable thingsY


In his Moral Education , Durkheim returned to his conceptiOn of the

state of modern society with a renewed sense of urgency: "We are a t present

passing through a critical period. Indeed there is not in history a crisis as

grave as that of European societ ies during the past century."43 In Socialism, Durkheim remarked upon the significant relat ionship among the rise of sociology, socialism, and religious revival in modern society. Along with

other later works, The Elementary Forms o ffered insight into the role of this

relationship in D urkheim's own thought, and i t revealed a sense in which

revolutionary turmoil harbored a posit ive component and a guide to the

creation of social health. For The Elementary Forms contained a striking

parallel be tween social revo lution and the origins of collective l ife , which for Durkheim were co inc ident with th e genesis of religi on . Revolut ion appar

ently involved, in his mind , a return to the pr i mordial passage from nature

to culture i n the modified form of a transit ion from one type of society to

another. And the secular was implicated in more or less unconscious dis

placements of the religi ous . Indeed there was a sense in which a revolution

was a return to the origins of soci ety, a kind of origin ary, sacralizing, primal

leap fro m one social type to another. And the very values and ideals that

served as guides to future action were generated in l iminal , revolutionary

epochs of "collective effervescence . " "Collective effervescence" itself meant ,

for Durkheim, not a m anifestation of crowd psychology i n general, but a

spontaneous, sacralizing elan vital open to communitas and the quasi-reli

gious poss ibi l i t ies in social lif e. (These poss ibi l i t ies included, as they did in

the French Revolut ion, displaced rel igious or secularized forces that might take instituti onally anti-clerical form. ) As he put i t in an important article ,

the revolutionary apogee of the critical period was evangelical, in the ety

mological sense of the word:

Life is lived with such inte nsity and with such abandon that it fil ls consciousness and clears i t almost completely of egoist ic and vulgar preoccupations. The ideal tends to become one with reality; this is why men have the impression that the time i s at hand when it will become reality and when the kingdom of G o d will be realized on earth.44

But life at this millennia! pitch of quasi-religious intensity could not be

continued a s the basis of a stable, ongoing social system:


The i l lus ion is never durable b ecause this exaltation cannot last : i t i s too exhausting. Once the critical moment has passed, the social fabr i c loosens up , i ntellectual and sentimental commerce slows down, and in dividuals fal l to their ordinary level . Then everyth ing which was said, done , and felt d u ring the period offecund torment survives only in the form of a memory - a prestigious memory to be sure, like the reality it recalls, but with which it is no longer confounded.4 5

The truly successful revolut ion, according to Durkheim, was one that

gave b i r th in t ime to a "norma l " society. T h e normal society wou l d em body a twofold rhythm of collective l ife in which ordinary, day-to-day activities

that contaminated ideals with uti litarian concerns and self-interest would

alternate with spec ia l symbol ic activities. In these communal and festive

activities, the "prestigious memory" and extraordinary intensity of value

creat ing revolut ionary t imes would be revived. These "ritual" activities

would themselves reinvigorate norms and symbols by giving them a sense

of i m m ediacy in the experience of members of soci ety and by generating a

living force which could be carried into the daily round. Through r itual , the

values created during the "great t imes" of the past would become available

as a source of renewal for l i fe in the present. Most important, perhaps, the

communitas - the communal identi ty among equals - approximated in

l iminal events l ike revolution would, to some viable extent , be inst i tuted in

ritual as a component of social sol idarity. Memb ers of society wou ld ritually

realize commmunitas, the vital force of all stable - but not static - society.

And this realization would flow into dai ly life as a quasi-mythical be l ief or

affectively charged, living fai th that m i tigated the dangers o f b o th structural

d i fferentiation and self-interest . Thus, paradoxically b u t understandab ly,

the most historically turbulent of events - revolut ion - would be most

successful, in D u rkhei m's op in ion , when i t gave r ise to the most stabil izing

features of social l if e: r itual and myth.

This conception of the revitalizing and reinforcing function of communal

ceremonies and feasts indicates the sense i n which Durkheim b elieved that

al l "healthy" societ ies required r i tuals related to the "ritual attitude" of sacred respect for bas ic commitments and values. Needless to say, these special ,

r itual activit ies would be compatible with reason only i f the values and

norms they legitimated were neither fanatically irrational nor systematically

contradicted by ordinary experience. Hi s idea of the condit ion of ritual i n


a normal state of society is impl ied i n D urkheim's analysis rather than fully

elucidated. But it is at least consistent with his over-all argument to observe

that rituals which exacerbate irrational policies and fantastic visions without

modulating them simply reinforce the unhinged and unbalanced nature of a

dubious status quo . But , as long as they were l imited or framed without canceling all risk, the outbursts of anomie excess, affective overA ow, or chaotic

unity in r i tual (ordinari ly i l l icit sexual unions, sacri legious b u ffoonery, role

inversion, and other forms of radical communitas) funct ioned cathartically

within the total economy of cultural life to assure viable balance. And i n

revol utionary transi t ions, they might i n their extreme forms get o u t of hand

and at t imes b e vehicles of desirable social change. In a more explicit way, Durkheim saw that , in the "normal" state of soc i ety, ordinary rea l i t ies and

operative inst itut ions would not hypocritically or self-deceptively contradict

cultural values but represent only "standard deviations" from them. In a

"pathological" context where values and normative expectations were sys

tematically upset in practice, the r i tual settings that d id exist might function

as purdy escapist i l lusions or be seen through as vulgar shams. The task of structural change i n modern societ ies marked by s ign i ficant

pathology was to revive the ideals of class ical revo lut ions of the past and

to real ize them viably through a sort of cultural revo lut ion of good fai th .

The cr i ter ion o f success in th i s endeavor wou ld be t h e genesis of a desir

able rhythm of social life. Values and norms const i tutive of the conscience

collective would guide ord inary pract ice with an allowance for "standard

deviations" due to normal human fai l ings. The conscience collective would be per iodically recreated i n pure fo rm in "r i tual" contexts of communal

s p o n tane i ty and j o y. Thus the "normal" or normatively d esirable soc ie ty

would combine the "constraint" of obligatory inst i tut ional norms with the

"collective effervescence" of m o tivated commitment , communal spontane

i ty, affective intens i ty, and a dynamic leaven of anomie openness . Norma

tive constraint would not be incompat ib le with charismatic expressiveness

and an e lement of r i sk . O n l y i n such a society c o u l d q u asi-re l igious sym

bolism fu nct ion authentical ly as the sacred canopy of legit imacy for the

social order . D u rkheim's corre lat ion of soc io logy, re l igious revival, and

social change provided the background for h i s reform proposa ls .


C mporatism

Durkheim's corporatism is frequently ignored o r at most considered

to be an example of personal predilection that was extraneous to the main

body of this thought. It was, on the contrary, an integral component of his

perspective, which applied his general idea of social normality to the problem

of structural change in modern society. Essential to this vision of modern

social normality was a triangular model of the state , the corporative group,

and the individual, existing in a tense dialectical balance.

Durkheim's conception of the situation and needs of modern society was

based upon an analysis of historical evolut ion in Western Europe. Corpo

rative groups such as the co m m une, the guild, and the estate had become

increasingly restrictive at the same t ime that the i r impo rtance declined with

the growing power of the central state. At first the conBict b etween the state

and corp orative groups had a posit ive function. For i t was the concrete

historical basis of individual rights. "It is from the conBict of social forces that individual l ibert ies are born. "46 But the extreme development of this

process of ris ing state power and individual emancipation fro m increasingly

opp ressive intermediary or secondary groups threatened to have negative

consequences. I t un i ntentionally culminated in a social situation in which

the state , as the sole s ignificant organized p ower, confronted the atomized

individual . This confrontation "had long s ince been prepared by progres

sive centralization under the ancien regime. " B u t "the great change which

the French Revolut ion accomplished was to carry this leveling process to a

po int hitherto unknown. "47

Without the countervailing protect ion of secondary groups, the indi

vidual l ibert ies fi rst won through the intervention of the state became both

of dubious existential value for the individual and of uncertain durat ion in

t h e face of state power. "Thus, by a ser ies of endless oscil lations, we pass

alternatively fro m author i tar ian regulat ion, which excessive rigidity makes

impotent, to systematic abstention which cannot last because of the anarchy

i t provokes . "4 8 Simultaneously, the largely uncontrolled development of the

economy gave r i se to classes whose relations were not based upon generally

accepted norms but upon unequal market power.49

The problem of modern society, according to Durkheim, was to create

broadly agreed-upon institut ions which viably realized the democratic values


brought to the forefront of consciousness during the classical revolut ions

of the past . Before proposing a normative triangle of state regulat ion, in

dividual rights, and decentralized corporat ism, Durkheim reviewed other

conceivable opt ions .

H e explici tly re jected authoritarian state collectivism and rigidly centralized bureaucratic control . The state was "too distant from the complex

manifestations" of economic and occupational life. It was "a heavy ma

chine . . . cut out only for general and s imple tasks . " Its invariably uniform

actions lacked "the fl exibil ity needed to ad just to an infinite diversity of par

ticular circumstances . " I t was "always oppressive and leveling. " 5 0 In brief, the

state, through its centralized bureaucracy, maximized authoritarian structure; and through ideo logies l ike m i l i tant nat iona l i sm, i t provided communitas

only i n aggressively violent and irrat ional ways.

The study of the family and kinship had an importance to Durkheim

which i s not adequately refl ected i n the relatively small amount of p u b lished

material he devoted to the subject . In general , he saw a process of "concen

tration" of the family i n the course of European history: over t ime the bas ic k ins h i p un i t had come to inc lude fewer persons performing fewer fu nctions .

The modern nuclear family continued to have an important social role for

Durkheim, p art icularly in nurturing children, tempering men's desires, and

countering sexual excess. And h e was a staunch defender of the sanctity of

marriage and an adamant opponent of divorce by m u t ual consent - views

which at t imes bro ught him close to ordinary conservatism. B u t he did no t

bel i eve the family to b e a focal po int for overcoming modern anomie. One problem area on which he , like the disciples of Saint-Simon, placed special

emphasis was that of inheritance.

The institution of inheritance implies that there are rich and poor from birth, i . e . , there are i n society two great classes, linked, however, by all sorts of intermediaries; one is obliged, in order to live, to have the other accept i t s services at any price whatsoever; the other is able to do without these services, thanks to the resources it possesses, even though these resources do not correspond to services rendered by those who enjoy them. As long as an opposit ion as dear-cut as this exists in society, more or less successfu l pal l iatives will mi tigate the injustice of contracts; but, in principle, the system wil l fU nction under conditions which do not permit i t to be j ust . 5 1


Fami l i a l inher i tance was a vest ige fro m t h e pas t wh ich i n h i b i t e d

equa l i ty of o p p ortuni ty i n educat ion and i n t h e choice o f an occupat ion

that w a s i n keep ing with o ne's t a l ent s . " I t i s evi d e n t tha t the educa t ion

of our chi ldren ought n o t t o depend u p o n chance , wh ich determines

the i r b i rth in one p lace ra ther than another , and t o certa in parents ra ther than o thers . " 5 2 Indeed , D urkheim asser ted that "a day wi l l come when

a man i s n o longer permit ted t o leave, even by tes tament , h i s for tune to

h i s descendants , j us t as h e i s no longer permit ted to l eave them h i s func

tions and t i t l e s . " 5 3 As a practical p roposa l , however , D urkheim seemed to

advance a compromise fo rmula that restr icted fami l i a l inher i tance to a

p e rcentage of the family wealth roughly p r o p o r tiona l to t h e i m p ortance of the fa m i l y as an inst i tut ion in modern soci ety. This idea both accorded

with exist ing fam i l i a l sent iment and al lowed for a s tore of wealth that

could b e used for soc ia l purposes . B u t given the dangers of excessive s ta te

power and r ig id b ureaucrat ic contro l , th is so lu t ion created the p r o b l e m

of es tabl i sh ing a repos i tory for the transmiss ion of w e a l t h i n soc i e ty.

And greater equal i ty of o p p or t u n i ty in t h e access to educat ion a n d t h e c h o i ce o f occupat ions d i d n o t solve t h e problem o f t h e na tu re of soc ia l

s t ructu res or affect the pr imary source o f general ized anomie in modern

soc ie ty : t h e economy.

According to D urkhe im, educa t ion itself was powerless to act as a

major lever for bas i c s o ci a l change. It cou ld p lay a ro le only wi th in a

broader movement for ra t iona l refo r m . Educat ion was "only the image

and reflect ion of soc i e ty . " I t was " h e al thy when p e o p le s en joy [ ed ] a state of hea l th . " But i t b e ca m e "corrupted with them, w i t h o u t be ing able to

m odify i t se lf through i t s own ini t ia t ive . " E d u cat ion could reform itse lf

only if soc iety was reformed . To reform soc ie ty, one had t o attack "the

causes of the evil" fro m which society suffered . 54 Here Durkhe im d i d

n o t d o j us t i c e to t h e i n creasingly i m p o r t a n t p o s i t i o n of educa t iona l

ins t i tu t ions in m odern soc i e t i e s as agencies o r affil ia tes o f government , partners of e c o n o m i c e n t erpr i se , loci of research and deve l o p m en t , m o re

or less contested s i tes for the generat ion and d isseminat ion of knowledge

and ideo logy, and m e d i a of select ion and training. But his concept ion of

p r i o ri t i es in s tructural reform was cogent .

The s ta te of the e c o n o m y was the b a s i c cause of m o dern s o c i al

pa tho logy . On th i s p o i n t , D urkhe im seemed to agree wi th M arx. B u t


D urkheim's largely m o ral concept ion o f the problem was not grounded i n

anything comparable to M arx's attem p t to provide a detai led inst i tut ional

analysis o f t h e source o f "contradict ions" i n the economy.

T h e m o s t b lamable acts are so o ften absolved by success tha t the l i m i t between what i s p e r m i t te d and what is p r o h i b i ted , what i s j us t and what i s not , n o longer has anything fi xed ab o u t i t ; i t seems suscept ib l e to a lmost arbi trary change by indiv iduals . Such an i m p recise and incons tant moral i ty is no longer able t o cons t i tu te a d i sc ip l ine . T h e resu l t i s tha t th i s ent i r e sphere of col lect ive l i fe is in large par t depr ived of the m o derat ing ac t ion of regulat ion . I t i s this anomie s ta te that i s the cause o f the i ncessantly recurrent confl icts and the var ious disorders of which the e c o n o m i c wor ld offers s o sad a spectacle . S i n c e n o t h i n g restrains the active fo rces and assigns them b o u n d s that they are obl iged to respect , they tend to develop w i t h o u t l i m i t and com e into co l l i s ion with one a n o t h er, b a t tl i n g and weakening themselves . To be s u r e , the s trongest succeed i n complete ly crushing t h e weakest , o r i n s u b o rdinat ing them . B u t i f t h e conquered m us t for a t i m e resign themselves to subord inat ion under constra int , they do not consent t o i t . Consequently, th i s cannot cons t i tu t e a stable equ i li b r i u m . Truces i m posed b y violence a r e never anything b u t provis ional , and they sat i sfY n o one . H u m an p ass ions halt o nl y b e fore a m o r al power that they respect . If all author i ty of this k ind is lacking, the law of the strongest prevai l s . And, latent or act ive , the s tate of war i s n ecessar i l y c h ro n i c . T h at such a s ta te of anarchy i s a morb i d phenomenon i s s e lf-evi d e n t , s i n c e i t contrad ic t s t h e v e r y e n d of a l l soc ie ty, which is t o s u p p ress , o r a t the very leas t to modera te , war among m e n b y subo rdinat ing t h e phys ica l l aw o f the strongest t o a higher law. 5 5

Durkhe im saw the deve l o p m e n t of lab o r un ions and management

groups a s an in i t i a l but inadequate s tep i n the r ight d i rec t ion . Procedures

l ike col lect ive b argaining d id n o t overcome excessively anomie re la t ions ;

the result was an extremely precar ious s tabi l i ty that was qui te compat ib le

wi th ego i sm and power confl icts .

Syndicates of em ployers and labor un ions are dis t inct fro m one another , which is legitimate and necessary, b u t there is n o regular


contact b etween them. There exists no common organization which brings them together w i th o u t denying their indiv idual i ty and i n which t h e y m a y elaborate i n common a regulat ion that , by fixing t h e i r m utual relat ions, i s i m posed u p o n b o th with a c o m m o n authori ty. Consequently, i t i s always the law of the strongest which sett les confl icts , and the state of war prevai ls complete ly. Except for act ions which fal l under common mora l i ty, e m p loyers and workmen are , i n their m u tual relat ions, in the same s i tuat ion as two autonomous states , b u t of unequal power. Like peoples through the m e d i u m of t h e i r govern m e nts , they can make contracts . B u t these contracts i n d i cate o n l y the respect ive state o f mil i tary forces conf rooting one another. They are l ike treat ies w h i ch indicate the respective state of mi l i tary fo rces b e tween two b ell igerents. They consecrate a de facto state ; they cannot create a j us t state [ u n It at de droit] . 5 6

The professional or corporative group was the crux of Durkheim's idea

of a possible means of creating a tense balance among the elements of social

j ust ice and health in modern society. In a sense, Durkheim's corporative idea

appl ied the principle of Occam's razor - to make only as many assumptions

as necessary - to the intricate problem of social "normality" in the context

of the advanced degree of the division of labor and the generalized exchange

of goods and services. Through fu nctional decentraliza t ion , the corporative

group could simultaneously provide a counterweight to the central state and

a social context in which communitas and a more cumulative articulation of

social and cultural experience might develop. Acting i n accordance with the

fundamental economic and occupational functions of modern society, the

corporative group would also have a role in the inheritance of wealth, educa

tion, economic regulation, welfare services, political representat ion, and artistic

creation. Most important, it would be a center of genuine communal com

mitment - to a signifi cant extent a real existential (not s imply an imaginary)

group - with the moral power to restrain anomie and transcend egoism. In

the corporative group, people would come to know one another and enjoy

what might be called a supplementary kinship.

Du rkheim derived his idea of the need for corporative groups partly from a h i s tor ica l survey that his proposed com parat ive h i s tory of this fo rm

of social organization was to have deta i led . O n the b a s i s of t h e lessons


he drew from his investigation of comparative h is tory, h e felt j ust ified

i n assert ing that corporat ism corresponded to a permanent fu nct ional

need i n societ ies which had passed beyond the stage of an agricul tural

economy. Comparison itself, however, did not solve spec ifically mo dern

problems ; i t mere ly helped one to dist inguish s imilar i t ies and d i fferences , revealed normal and pathological fu nct ioning i n d ifferent social types ,

and enabled one better to s i tuate specifi cally modern condit ions , dangers,

and poss ib i l i t i e s .

I n Greece , a t least unt i l the Ro man conquest , corporat ions were un

known, because economic occupat ions were socially desp i sed and con

signed to foreigners. In Rome, on the con trary, they dated from the earliest t imes of t h e Republ ic . S ignifican tly, t h e Roman corporat ive group dur ing

the pe r iod of t h e Republ ic was a religi o u s confraternity. Under the Empire ,

however, corporative groups b oth reached their fullest development and, in

part because of c iv i l wars and invasi ons , fell under the dominat ion of the

state . "This was the ruin of the ins t i tuti o n. " 5 7 The central p o i n t here , for

Durkheim, was that an adequate comparison had to consider societ ies a t comparable stages of development. O n e could n o t , fo r example , generalize

about the viability of an inst itut ion on the basis of its decadence or abuse .

After the fal l of Rome, " i f an economist had taken stock of the s i tuat ion, he

would reasonably have concluded, as economists later did , that corporative

groups had n o t , or at least no longer had , any ra ison d' etre , that they had

disappeared once and for al l , and he undoub tedly would have treated any attempt to reconst i tute them as retrogressive and unrealizab le . " 5 8

The rebirth of corporative groups i n t h e M i ddle Ages showed that the

hypothetical economist living in the " D ark Ages" would have been wrong.

In fact , the i m p o rtance of corporative groups in the medieval per iod was

greater than in Rome. In Rome, the corporative group was n o t a p ub l i c

ins t i tut ion . B u t i n t h e Middle Ages i t b e c a m e t h e v e r y foundat ion of the

commune . In a d i fferent fo rm, it retained moral and religious functions

and was a center of communal feasts and b a n g uets . And, as in Rome,

it provided a locus of int imacy less restr icted than the family and more

personal than the c i ty. A point which would become increasi ngly relevant

with the development of D urkheim's thought was that in b o t h cases "all

religious community constituted a moral mi l i eu , j ust as all moral discipl ine

tended in t ime to assume a rel igious form . "59 I f the case of Rome revealed


the danger o f state dominat ion , the ancien regime p ointed to the danger

of the possible dominat ion of one soc ioeconomic group by another. In

the medieval per iod , strat ifi cation within the corporative group was often

not r igid or highly marked, s ince the apprent ice could as a ru l e become

a mas te r in his turn . By t h e end of t h e ancien regime, corporat ions had become instruments through which masters exploi ted workers. This de

velopment led to the format ion of trade unions outs ide the pale of the

corpo rative organizat ion . 60

B u t there is no ins t i tut ion w h i c h does n o t a t s o m e t i m e degenerate , e i ther b e cause it cannot change and becomes i m m o b i l ized or because i t develops i n a uni latera l d irect ion . . . . This may be a reason to reform it b u t n o t to declare i t permanentl y useless and destroy i t . . . . If fro m the or igin of the c i ty unt i l the zenith of the Emp i re , from the dawn of Ch r i s t i an i ty u n t i l mod ern t imes , they have been necessary, i t i s because they answer permanent and p rofo und needs . The fact that after having d isappeared the fi rs t t i m e , they were reconst i tuted b y themselves a n d i n a new form rebuts any argument that the i r v io lent d i sappearance a t the end o f the last century i s a proof tha t they are no longer i n harmony with the new cond i t ions o f co l l ective ex i s t ence . 6 1

One prob lem the corpo rative group failed to meet I n early modern

t imes was that the commune proved to be too restr icted a framework

fo r the regula t ion of commerce , which was becoming na t iona l and internat ional . (The contemporary transnat ional corporat ion would pose

even more severe difficul t ies for the viable organizat ion of corporative

gro u p s . ) A second prob lem h a d to do with the s t ruc tur e of author i ty i n

t h e corpo rative group i t se lf - a prob lem t h a t subsequent h i s tory has

exacerbated , a long with the ques t ion of relat ions b e tween the corpo

rative group and the state . Altho ugh D u rkheim was not as clear or as

comp rehensive as he might have been, h i s concept ion of the structure of

authority in corporative groups was essential ly democrat ic , and i t included

i n d u str ia l democra cy.

Spec ia l ized regulat ions can b e made only b y elected assembl ies charged wi th representing the corporat ion. In the present s ta te of ind ustry, these assembl ies , a s well as the t r ibunals which apply


profess ional regulations, obviously ought to inc lude representatives of employers and employees . . . in proport ions corresponding to the respective i m p o r tance attri b u t e d by op in ion to these two factors i n product i o n . B u t i f i t is necessary that b o t h be present in the d i rect ing councils of the corporat ion, i t is no less indispensable that they fo rm a t the base of the corporat ion d i s t inc t and i n d e p endent gro ups , for the i r interests a re t o o often rival and antagonist ic . For them to be able to take p os i t ions freely, they must take pos i t ions separately. The two groups thus cons t i tu t ed could subsequently des ignate t h e i r represen tatives to t h e co mmon assembl ies . 62

Durkheim argued that "the already so powerful and so clumsy hands of

the state" were incompetent and dangerous instruments for the provision

of social welfare and the detailed regulation of the economy. Thus, he con

cluded that the problem of the anomie and egoism fostered by the antip athy

between centralized b ureaucratic rigidity and atomized individualism could

be resolved only by forming, "outside the state, but subject to its action, a

duster of collective forces whose regulative influence can be exercised with

more variety. "63 But he readily acknowledged the tendency of secondary or

intermediary groups to develop i n the direction of closed societies charac

terized by "the despotism of routine and professional egoism."64 To check

this tendency and to protect the rights of the individual, the democratic state

was to retain l imited but crucial functions. "Only the state can oppose to the

particularism of each corporation a consciousness of general uti l ity and the necessities of organic equi l ibr ium."65

A defining feature of the democratic state , for Durkheim, was its achieve

ment of conscious awareness of the needs of all social groups through the

open communication assured by representative institut ions.66 His conception

of the democratic state in the normal society was both legislative and moral. Using his peculiar ph i l osophical vocabulary, he designated the state as the

representative (but not the incarnation) of the conscience collective. Its specific

function was to elaborate "collective representations" i n the form of laws valid

for society as a whole.

A s tr ik ing defe c t of D u rkheim's po l i t i cal soc io logy in such works as

Professional Ethics and Civic Morals was the neglect of executive leadership a n d p o l i t i cal par t i e s . H i s neglect of execut ive leadership m i gh t be seen as

a reflect ion of the do-noth ing nature of the state in his own Third Re-


p u b l i c . B u t h e was n o t , i n fact, advocat ing the reduct ion o f government

to the status of a debat ing soc i e ty in a context marked b y severe soc ia l

p rob l ems . N o r w a s h i s neglect of po l i t i cal par t i e s related to an a t t e m p t

to d i sc red i t par l iamentar i sm i n t h e manner of fi gures o n b o th t h e far

left (for example , the early Walter Benjamin a n d t h e equivocal G eorges

Sore l ) and the fa r right (for example , Char les Maurras , P ierre D ri e u La

Rochel le , and Carl S ch m i t t ) , i n clud ing m o r e react ionary advocates of

corpora t i sm . D u rkhe im was a fi rm suppor te r of par l iamentary govern

ment and did n o t advocate a "one p a r ty" s ta te . B u t at t imes he did s eem

c lose to an idea of a "no p arty" s ta te , or a t l eas t t o a vis ion i n which p ar

t i e s , l ike interest gro ups , would play a very s u b ordinate ro le . Bas ically, D u rk h e i m was present ing a no rmative c o n ce p t i o n of t h e ro l e of t h e state

in the "normal" soc i ety. Here all part icular interests and agencies wou ld

b e regulated b y l imi t ing n o r m s . And the s t a t e w o u l d b e a legal ent i ty

whose laws app l i ed the norms and values of the conscience co llective. Early

in h is l ife , D urkhe im cr i t ic ized M o n tesqu i e u for theoret ical ly separat ing

law and eth icsY In Durkhe im's "normal" soc i e ty, b o th law and ethics would find t h e i r u n i ta ry s o u r ce in normat ive p r i n c i ples e m b o d i e d in the

consc ience col lect ive .

Indeed, according t o D urkhe im, se l f-government wou ld most ade

quately fi ll soc ia l needs and the general condit ions of normative plural ism

be best real ized if corporat ive groups themselves b ecame the b as i c un i ts

of po l i t i ca l representat ion. This idea was in keeping with his general view

that in modern soc ie ty terr i tor ia l u n i t s lacked b o th cul tura l ident i ty and the means to cope wi th p rob l ems s t e m m i n g from advanced techno logy

and indus t r i a l i sm. "The o n l y d ecentral izat ion which , wi th o u t breaking

up nat ional u n i ty, p ermi t s the mul t ip l i c a t ion o f centers of c o m m o n l i fe

is what might b e cal led professional decentralizatio n . "68 Regional and

local groupings corresponding to prob lems which c o u l d be handled a t

these levels would cont inue to exist , b ut the b r u n t of activity wi th in a

s t ructura l ly transformed soc i e ty would fa ll u p o n p ro fess i o n al or corpo

rative groups .

Thus corpo rative groups , internal ly character ized b y a democrat ic

s t ruc ture o f author i ty and re la ted to one another b y n o rmatively con

tro l led , amiable rivalry under the general auspices of the democrat ic s tate ,

were fo r D u rkheim the sole means of overcoming anomie and assur ing


so l idar i ty i n modern soc i e ty. In essence , t h e goal Durkhe im ind ica t ed

i n h i s idea o f t h e corporative group w a s t h a t of ra i s ing soc i e ty above t h e

mundane level of the mere ly economic .

I f w e j u dge t h e m [ i . e . , corporative g roups ] to be i n d i spensab le , i t i s no t because of the eco n om i c services they cou ld render bu t b e cause of the moral infl uence they might have. What we see ab ove al l in the professional group i s a moral power able to restra in individual egoism, mainta in i n the hearts of workers a l ivel ier sent iment of the i r comm o n so l idar i ty, a n d prevent the law o f the strongest fro m be ing app l i ed so b r u t al ly in i n d ustr ia l and commercia l re lat ions . 6 9

D u rkhe im a d m i t t e d that i t was d i ffi c u l t to see how o cc u p at ions

"cou ld ever be elevated to the dignity of mora l powers . Indeed , they are

formed of individuals which noth ing attaches to one another , who are

even disposed t o treat one another l ike rivals and enemies rather than l ike cooperators . " 7 0 But he nonetheless remained opt imis t i c . In h i s m i n d

t h e p rofessional group represented t h e "funct ional equ ivalent" through

whi ch there could be inst i tuted what he saw as the essence of soc ia l i sm.

Corporat i sm would make soc ia l i sm more than a bread-and-butter i s sue .

It would respond to the soc ia l i s t "aspirat ion for a rearrangement of the

socia l s tructure , by relocat ing the ind ustr ia l set-up i n the total i ty of the

social organism, d rawing i t out of the shadow where it was fu nc t ioning au tomatically, s u mmoning i t into t h e l ight and the control of t h e

conscience [ o r consciousness : la comcience] . " Through corporat i sm t h e

soc i a l ques t ion w o u l d b e co m e , "not a que s t i on of money o r force , " b u t

"a ques t ion o f mora l agen ts . " 7 1

T h e concept ion o f D urkheim a s a mi l i t ant nat ional i s t a n d " fi ery j i ngo"

came from his wart ime pamphlets and a misconcept ion of the nature of

his more s e r ious thought . 7 2 Whether o r not h i s p rop agandis t ic pamphlets

actual ly j u s tifi ed these characterizat ions is debatab le . In his concept ion

of the s ta te and the nat ion i n h i s more ser ious works , Durkheim showed

himself to be a l ibera l pa t r io t who appl i ed to the relat ions among states the same principles of socia l sol idarity th a t he appl i ed to group relat ions

i n the "normal" domest ic context . He was attracted to the ideal of world

government . But he fo und it so far d i s tant from the realm of feas ib i l i ty

that he proposed instead a s l ightly l e s s u top i an goa l of reconc i l ing hu-

2 1 0 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

mane values and normative l imi t s t o col lective assert ion with t h e state

syste m . His ideal i s t ic expression of patr iot i sm was close to the ideas of

a Mazzini .

If each state adopted as i t s essent ia l task not t o grow or to extend i t s fron tiers but to deal with i ts own autonomy as best i t could , to ca l l to an ever greater m o ral l i fe the vast rna jor i ty of i t s own m e m b e rs , then al l c o nt rad ic t ions b e tween nat iona l and h u m a n moral i ty would disappear. I f the state h a d n o fu r ther goal than to make i ts c i t izens men i n the fu l l sense of the word, then civic duties would be only a part i cular for m of the general dut ies of humani ty . . . . This patr iot ism does not exclude all national p r ide . Collective p e rsonal i t ies , l ike individual personal i t ies , cannot exist without having a certain sent iment about themselves and what they are. And this sent iment always has something p ersonal about i t . As long as states exist , there wi l l b e socia l se lf-esteem, and nothing i s m o r e legit imate . Bu t societ ies can s e e the i r self-esteem, n o t i n be ing greater o r wealthier, but in be ing more j us t , bet ter organized, and in having a better m o ral cons t i tut io n . Needl ess to say, we h ave not yet reached the time when this patr iot i sm reigns supreme, if ever such a t ime can comeJ3

These elevated sentiments d id not confront problems re lated to the vast

disparit ies in power and wealth among existing states, and they fai led to engage colonial and imperial ist ic realities often encrypted i n idealistic rhetoric .

And Durkheim did not l ive to see h is ideals tested by the harsh realit ies of

Wo rld War I . Such considerations render even more difficul t of attainment

the type of generous, humane patriot ism Durkheim envisaged.

What may one conc lude about D u rkhei m's proposed reforms? In one

sense , his corporat i s t proposals required bas ic , s t ructura l reform. They

enjo ined social control of the economy related, h owever vaguely, to dem

ocrat ic values . In addit ion, they impl i ed a qualitat ively different form of

relationship among peop le in modern society. But Durkheim's formulations

remained entirely theoret ical . They were indeed vague and, for this very reason, open to conflict ing i n terpretat ions and divergent appropr iat ions .

His concept ion of p o l i tics was often excessively high-minded and i m p rac

tical. His hatred of the "pol i t ical kitchen" inhib i ted a full understanding of

pol i t ica l interests and an at tempt to relate them cogently to his own ideas .

Chapter 5 Theory and Practice 2 1 1

Nor can h i s reforms b e j u dged adequate to the severe problems that h e a t

l ea s t part ia l ly perceived. Moreover, D u rkheim o ffered no ins ight into the

ques t ion of means of real iz ing his proposed reforms. This was an especial ly

disabl ing o miss ion in a case where the means employed would help to

shape the envisaged end. D urkheim's a t tempt to relate theory and practice broke down at the most vital po in t . Although one may certainly d o u b t

whether a n y intel lectual or commentator arrived a t a bet ter art iculat ion of

these diffi cult i f no t intractable i s sues , one may nonetheless ques t ion the

fashion i n which D urkheim's v i s ion t ended to shade off i n t o a p ious hope

about an indeterminate future t h a t b ore l i t t le re lat ion to social real i t ies

or their apparent developmental tendencies . At a crucial j uncture of the argum ent , o pt im i sm took the place of hard th ink ing . Nor d id Durkh e i m

i n later life return t o the issues raised by his reform proposals . Rather, h e

i n creasingly devoted h imself t o t h e investigation o f rel igion and t o the

development of his own highly ideal i s t ic soc ia l ph i losophy.

The Individual and Society

What was D u rkheim's concept ion of the role of the individual in so

c ie ty? Which type of individual i sm did h e at tack and which type did he

defend? And how w e r e these ques t ions related to Durkheim's key dist inc

t ion b e tween social normal i ty and pathology?

The specific type of individualism that Durkheim attacked was excessive

individuat ion, or a tomist ic , possessive individual ism. Suicide analyzed the

pathogenic effects o f de focto and inst i tut ional ized egoism and traced i t s

re la t ion to anomie. D u rkheim saw ut i l i tar ianism as the ideological legit i

ma tion of extreme individual i sm. One function of comp arative s tudies

and "crucia l experiments , " h e thought , was to provide the perspective that

permitted him to argue that ut i l i tar ianism (and other variants of atomist ic

ind iv idua l i sm ) a t t empted to transform a transit ional aberrat ion into a

universal moral and cul tural t ru th . F o r Durkhe im, u t i l i tar ianism was

"contradicted by everything which his tory and comparative ethnography

teach us a b o u t the moral l i fe of humanity."74 Essential to D u rkheim's own pos i t ion was a basic model of the human

being. As noted earli er, at t imes this model was dubio usly gendered, wi th


men more creatures of l imitless desire and women, less involved in deregu

lated areas of social activity and closer to a p utative organic equi l ibr ium of

need and desire. Moreover, there was a sense i n which, for Durkheim and

others at the time, gender and sexuality were so closely mapped onto, or even

identified with, one another that homosexuality could not arise as an explicit quest ion . Indeed the interest in general models of the human being or the

sometimes obsessive concern with the abstract problem of the individual

and society readily diverted attention from more concrete, confl ictual , and

ethicopol it i cally fraught issues in society and culture . Sti l l , the merit of

Durkheim's views was to indicate that a critique of normalization (or the

conflation of the normative with the statist ically average o r dominant) did

not e l iminate but rather cal led for an attempt to work out an al ternative

normativity, at t imes including normativities with which Durkheim might

not agree (for example, one that did not exclude or render abject b u t , on

the contrary, legit imated non-heterosexual practices) .

Durkheim conceived of the human being in the "state of nature" as an

isolated individual outside all society. This conception reduced the individual to his or her organic a n d psychophysical givens. The psychological capacity

of the individual in the "state of nature" was l imited to sensation. But needs

were l imited as well by organic functioning and inst inct .

The role of society and symbolism i n human life depended, in the most

general sense, on whether social structure assumed normal or pathological

form. At this po int , D urkheim's sociology and his value theory were united . Central to both was the inst i tutionalized norm or value enshrined in the conscience collecti ve. The conscience collective became Durkhei m's analogue

for Kant's practical reason and Rousseau's volonte genera/e.

Social structure and conscience collective were aspects of the same reali ty.

In the "normal" state of society, inst i tutionalized norms and values would

b e b o th obj ectively structured (l ike "things") and subj ectively internal ized.

In their objective aspect , inst i tut ions were characterized by exter iority and constraint . In the "normal" state of society, however, constraint was ident ical

with obligation, duty, and a sense of responsibil ity. It was related to the sense

of legitimate l imi ts and mesure, which for Durkheim was essential for all

morality and sol idarity in society. This role of inst i tut ional norms was well

expressed in a statement Durkheim quoted from Rousseau's Emile: "If the

laws of societ ies , like those of nature , b e came so inflexible that no human


force could ever bend them, dependence upon men would become depen

dence upon things l " 7 5 In his Moral Educatio n, Durkheim expressed i n his

own way the meaning of the "thinglike" qual i ty of inh ib i tions imposed by

inst i tut ions and internalized norms in the "normal" state of society: "When

a man with a healthy moral const itut ion tries to commit an act which moral i ty blames , he feels something which stops him just as if he tried to p ick

u p a rock which i s too heavy for h im." 7 6 Thus, i n th i s naturalizing analogy, the moral inhib i t ions created b y inst i tut ional norms would b e as weighty

as rocks in the personality.

Exter ior i ty and cons t ra in t as c r i t e r i a o f i n s t i t u t iona l norms were

s tressed by Durkheim in his early thought . He came to see in t ime that in the "normal" or no rmatively legit imated state of society th ese aspects

of inst i tut ions would be combined with their des i rabi l i ty. In the p reface

to the second edi t ion of The Rules of Sociological Method, he observed:

" Inst i tut ions may i m p o s e themselves u p o n us, b u t we are attached to

them; they put us under obl igat ions , and we love them; they constrain

us, and we fi n d our welfare i n their funct ioning and their very constra int .

Moral ists have often p o i nted out t h i s ant i thes i s between t h e two concepts

of ' the good' and 'duty ' which p resent the two d ifferent and equally real

aspects of moral life. "77

The des irabi l i ty of inst i tut ions was dependent on their provis ion of

viable ways and means of realizing values. Ideals formed the soul of legiti

mate inst i tut ions . And such works as Moral Education made explicit the

relationship between the des irabi l i ty of inst i tut ions and the existence of communal groups. Through communal life, ins t i tu t ionalized activity ap

proached the idea l and t o o k on overtones of spontanei ty and char ismat ic

elan. In a sense , the des irabi l i ty of inst i tut ions was to community as oblig

atory constra int was to differentiat ion and a sense of legitimate l imits .

In the "normal" s tate of society, there was no fatal antagonism, although

there might well be possibly creative tension, be tween society and the indiv idual . W i th reference to the relation between ins t i tut ional norm and

organic need , Durkheim argued t h a t discipl ine was " the means by which

nature normally realizes itself and not the means of reducing or destroy

ing i t . "78This non-ascetic idea m i tigated the antipathy b e tween mind and

body (homo duplex). More generally, Durkheim argued that there was no

"total antagonism which makes tota l or part ia l abdicat ion of his own nature

2 1 4 Emile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

the price o f an individual's attachment to society. " On the contrary, "the

individual i s truly himself and able to realize his own nature only i f he at

taches himself to society." The individual's need for normative limits and

communal attachments was shown in D urkheim's study of suicide. Man was

more prone to kill himself when he was "detached from all collectivities" and lived "more l ike an egois t . " 7 9

The nature of inst i tut ions in the normal state of society was to com

bine a constraining sense of normative l imits with an internal ized sense of

commitment . Their function was to create mora l sol idarity, which was , for

Durkheim, as vital to the l ife of the individual as i t was to the ordering of

society. This notion of institutions in t h e normal state of society was impl ic i t tn Durkhei m's assert ion, which has often been quoted out of context :

Never has the qual ificat ion of moral been appl ied to an act which has for its object only the interest of t h e individual or t h e perfection of t h e individual understood in a p u rely egoistic m a n n er. If t h e individual who I a m d o e s no t const i tute a n end which h a s i n itself a moral character, this i s necessari ly true also of individuals who are my equals and who d iffer from me only in degree. From this one may conclude that , if there is a moral i ty, i t can have as i ts objective only th e group formed by a plurality of individuals , i . e . , society, under the condit ion that society may b e considered as a personality qualitatively dist inct from the individuals who compose i t . � 0

Durkheim's mode o f expression was not devoid of ambiguity, and the

ambiguity was related to social metaphysic. But the relat ion of this argument to his theory of value can be clearly form ulated: Self-seeking, egoistic self

perfection ( including the pleasures of the se lf ) , or slavish subservience to

the particularist ic interest of another indivi dual , constituted aspects of social

pathology. For Durkheim, legit imate moral regulati o n depended upon the

existence of a conscience collective that was logically distinct from a sum

of atomistic individuals in that it was formed by a desirable structure of

institutional norms and values. In the "pathological" state of society, t h e nature and fu nct ion of insti

tutions changed, for they might be part of the problem instead of part of the solut ion . In the pathological state, the social status quo distorted the

instinctual balance of the "state of nature" and added newer dislocations of

Chapter 5 Theory and Practice 2 I 5

i ts own. Anomie, especially in certain extremely deregulated areas of society

(such as modern economic life or international relat ions) , converted culture

into a lever for an infinite well of organic or more sublimated responses

that knew no l imits . Man was prey to unlimited desire or to the hunger for

power over others. Will , the spiritualized pass ion, was l ike desire in that

i t became unhinged when it was detached from rational commitment to

l imit ing norms. The concept of anomie confined to a specific sociologi

cal context the "state of nature" in Hobb es's sense: man was a wolf to his

neighbor because of the distrust and dislocation engendered by the absence

of substantively limiting norms. Anomie also revealed the way in which the

Freudian id (as Freud realized) was not a purely organic force but instead a l im ina l , hybr id ized locus of dr ives i m p el l ing an o rganism d i soriented by a

certain state of society and culture.

One prominent aspect of social p athology was (to use the well-known

phrase ofT. S. El iot) a "dissociat ion of sensibility" - a dissociat ion which

Durkheim's own narrowly analytic tendencies a t t imes replicated. The cru

cial case of dissociat ion, which Durkheim transcended in his conception of social normal i ty, was that between constra i n t and what was desirable

in social life and in the personali ty. This dissociation might, fo r example,

be seen in the anomie contradiction between inst i tut ions and the cultural

values or ideals which inst i tut ions were supposed to embody. To the extent

that institutions were ho uses of constraint alone, they were al ienating and

oppressive. At most, they were obj ects of ambivalent i n ternalization that

led to compulsive performance by "hollow men" internally divided against themselves. Institutions that constrained without eliciting genuine commit

ment were soulless ; they helped to instigate anomie ideal i sm, neoromantic

excess, and often misguided, even violent and putat ively regenerative quests

for communitas in al ienated segments of society. The contrast be tween constraint and desirabil i ty was i n certain ways

s imilar to Weber's oppos i t ion between bureaucrat izat ion and charisma. Extreme b u reaucracy was a social form based upon constrai n i n g structu res

dissociated from communitas. And the maximization of structure typically

fostered movements that tried to maximize communitas. Charismatic b reak

through involved not only the heroic virtuosity of the individual leader - a

trait which Weber tended to overemphasize - b u t also the charismatic

communitas of followers. Indeed, there was often a puzzling relationship

2 1 6 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

between anomie, communitas, and individual ism i n radical movements.

And the maximization of communitas typically gave way, in history, to the

"Thermidorian reaction" of a maximization of structure and constraint. As

we have already noted , the successful revol u tion - or the s uccessful social

movement in general - according to Durkheim, was one that broke this tragic cycle by integrating constraining structure and "desirable" communitas

in the same ongoing social system.

Attempting to specifY his own vision of the int imate bond between

constraint and desirabil ity in the normal state of soc iety, Durkheim him

self referred to Hobbes and Sp encer. Hobbes , recognizing the anomie and

destructive nature of dissociated spontanei ty, had become the theorist of i m p erative order and pure constraint . Rej ect ing a despot ic order based on

constraint alone, the ut i l i tarians and classical economists had come forth

as the theorists of spontanei ty, often presenting "all collective discipl ine

as a sort of more or less tyrannical mi l i tar i sm." They fai led to see that "in

reali ty, when discipl ine is normal, when i t i s everything i t ought to be, i t

i s entirely different. I t i s b o th the summing up and the condi t ion of all c o m m o n l ife , which means as much in the hearts of individuals as the i r

own lives . " 8 1 Theorists l ike Hobbes and Spencer opted for one horn of a

di lemma. But the problem of legitimate social order could b e resolved only

by el iminat ing the dilemma itself.

These words "constraint" and "spontanei ty" do not have in our terminology the meaning which Hobbes gives to the former and Spencer to the latter . . . . The principle we expound would create a sociology which sees in the spir i t of discipl ine the essential condit ion of al l common life, whi le at the same t ime founding i t on reason and on truth . R 2

Durkhei m's mature thought i tse lf provided the theoretical tools to s i tuate

and transcend the controversy that earl ier had divided Gabriel Tarde and

himself. Earli er, Durkheim seemed to champion pure constraint and formal

obl igat ion. Working within the same over-all frame of reference, Tarde i n

equally one-sided fash ion espoused the cause of inner spontaneity and the

exceptional individual . Durkheim seemed to be the official advocate of the formal , publ ic , external , "false" self, and Tarde the devil's advocate of the

nonconformist , private, inner, daring se lf, which in modern French cultural


history had usually been taken as the "real" self and the untouchable core

of the personality. Both, i n effect , had seized upon one dissociated element

of society and the personality in one type of social pathology. This context

did seem to posit a total antipathy between society and the individual in the form of an oppos i t ion between mass conformity and indiv idual affirmation i f not transgress ion . But, in Durkheim's later conception of social

normality, this d ichotomy would be e l iminated . Genuine commitment

would replace mass conformity. And, except i n the case of certain truly

exceptional individuals , the antagonism between self and society would b e

reduced t o marginal proportions and perhaps assume more creative meaning for all concerned.

I t has already been observed that Durkheim's concepts of socia l normality

and pathology did not go far beyond the po in t of tentative formulation. Hi s

notion of social p athology especially suffered from inadequate theoretical

elaboration. A closer examination of Marx's thought - and of Marx's own

use of Saint-Simon - would have been most informative. For example, some

distinction between pre-revolut ionary, revolutionaty, and post-revolutionary periods seemed necessaty. Durkheim himself seemed to believe tha t revo

lut ion might b e inevitable when society found itself in a certain sort of

structural b ind . Revolution itself, he thought, was effective in i t s el imination

of certain vestiges of an old order, valuable i n the genesis of social ideals, and

generally unsuccessful in the realization of ideals in a new institutional order.

Revo lution appeared to b e on the borderline b etween social patho logy and

normali ty. Modern society - and especially his own France - seemed for

Durkheim to represent a post-revolutionary context that suffered from an

afterbirth of disorientation and runaway change. Its pathology was in some

ways post-revolutionary. And this seemed to imply that i n modern society

violence would generally be self-defeating and that a different type of social

action was mandatory. But precisely how these ideas related to his conception

of normality and pathology and to other aspects of modern society - e.g . , i ndustr ia l izat ion - remained u nclear.

Let us return to Durkhei m's i dea of the re lat ion of the individual to

socie ty. At times D urkheim was led b y b o th mechanist ic dual ism and an

emergent soc ia l myst ique to present a dissociated not ion of the "whole

man" as a mere compos i te of the organic and the social self. This tendency

was apparent in such important articles a s "Representations individu elles


et representations collectives" ("Individual Representations and Collec

t ive Representations , " 1 898 ) and "Le Dualisme de la nature humaine et

ses condit ions sociales" ("The Dual ism of Human Nature and Its Social

Condit ions ," 1 9 1 4) . At other t imes , the more dialectical o r relational aspect

of his thought - while maintaining a primary emphasis upon collective norms and shared symbols - led to a more complex conception of the

individual that res isted reducing him or her to a mechanical combinat ion

of a bodi ly organism and a soc ia l self. This allowed Durkhe im to provi d e

further insight in to the quest ion of t h e individual i n various types and

states of soc ie ty.

At all t imes , the individual had a de facto cultural status that derived

u l t imately fro m on tological and epistemological sou rces. " From the t ime

there is consciousness, there i s a sub jec t w h o conceives himself a s d i s t inct

from al l that i s n o t himself - a subject who says ' 1 . "' 8 3 The pathological

state of society carried the inevitable degree of existential tension between

the individual and society to unnecessary historical proportions. In contrast ,

the normal state of society maintained the degree of existential tension that corresponded to the margin of anomie indeterminacy in the social

s t ructure . But i t complemented and supplemented this with fo unding

social s tructures on consent . As early as The Division of Labor , Our kheim

had asserted that "social life is spontaneous wherever i t i s normal , and if

i t i s abnormal i t cannot last . "84 Consent , however, was not identical with

a sum of ad hoc acts of indiv idual wi l l . I t s pr imary object was a conscience collective combining l imi t ing norms and communal values essential for moral sol idar i ty in soci ety.

A spec ific character is t ic of m o d er n soc ie ty was that t h e conscz ence

collective i tself in certain ways inst i tut ional ized individual ism as well as

anomie . This became pathogenic when it reached the extreme of atomist ic

individualism and runaway, unchecked excess. But there was a val id core

in modern l iberal i sm. It was embodied in the idea of personal dignity and individual r ights . " H um a n personal i ty is a sacred thing; we do not dare

violate it and hold o u rselves at a distance from the sanctuary of the person;

at the same t ime, the good par excellence is communion with another ."8 5

The basic goal of Durkheim's corporat ism was to establ ish a normative

triangle of communi ty, individual r ights , and state regulation under the

general guidance of universal , humane values.


Durkheim even furnished a rudimentary theory of the genesis of various

types of relat ionship between the individual and soc ie ty. I n The Division

of Labor, h e made reference to the " indeterminat ion of the conscience col

lective" in modern soci ety. I n "primitive" societies , norms often had a r i tual articulation that directly structured concrete events. Durkheim's conception of "primitive s impl ic i ty," however, was itself somewhat s impl is t ic : "The

very s impl ic i ty of moral practices makes them take the habi tual form of

automatism and, in these circumstances, automatism suffi ces. Since social

life is always the same and differs l i tt le over space and t ime , unselfcon

scious habit and tradit ion cover almost everything." Tradit ion might h ave

a prestige and author i ty that left l i t t le room fo r reasoning and inquiry. As soc i e t i e s became m o re complex , i t was "more difficu l t for m o ra l i ty to fu n c

t ion through a purely automatic mechanism." In highly complex modern

societ ies , circumstances were never identical , and norms had a conceptual

s tructure that required the exercise of j u dgment i n their appl icat ion to

concrete cases and events. Moreover, society was i n "perpetual evo lu t ion . "

Th i s impl i ed that moral i ty had to be "supple enough to b e transformed

when i t became necessary. " T h e distance between c o n ceptual norm a n d

concrete event created a n i n terval o f indeterminacy i n moral l ife which

necessitated refl ection, personal respons ib i l i ty, i n i tia t ive , and choice in

individuals . When anomie indeterminacy was extreme, the "desire to get

ahead" might expose the individual to "exci tat ion beyond all measure unti l

he knows practical ly no l imi t s . " 86

When Durkheim spoke of the need for the "ritual att i tude" of sacred

respect in modern society, he seemed to believe that the object of this att itude would b e norms and values autonomously accepted as legit imate. Durkheim

did not envision a concrete ritualization of modern life, except, perhaps , i n

per iodic ritual contexts (whose nature he d id not really specify) . Moreover,

he argued that crit icism would b e both necessary and functional in a highly

complex social order. "The sacred character of moral i ty ought n o t protect it from crit ic ism as i t d i d i n t h e case of re l igi o n . "8 7 Const ructive crit icism

would no t impair basic commitments insofar as they were rationally j u stifi

able. Indeed, it might serve as a "feed-b ack" mechanism i n the application

of norms to concrete cases . With reference to one of Saint-Simon's disciples ,

Durkheim observed: "What escaped Bazard i s that the further one advances

in history, the more one sees the traits of the crit ical per iod prolonged into


the organic per iod . In fact, the more cultivated a people , the less does the

dogma that unifi es i t bar free examinati o n . Reflection, cr i t ic ism exist next

to faith, pierce that very fai th without destroying it , and occupy an always

larger place in i t . " 8 8

The individual rights defended by Durkheim included private property as a material basis of moral autonomy.

This individual l iberty which is so dear to us supposes n o t only the faculty to go about as we please ; i t implies the existence of a circle of things which we may dispose of as we will . Individualism would only be a word if we did not have a material sphere of action in which we exercise a sort of soverei gnty. When one says that individual property i s a sacred thing, one only states in symbolic form an indubi table moral axiom; for individual property is the material condition of the cult of the individual . 8 9

Durkheim related these ideas to the notion that legit imate property in

modern society was increasingly the property acquired b y the individual

through his own effort rather than through inheritance. He did not draw

the seemingly obvious inference that a certain minimum of property was

necessary for all individuals in a society based upon individual l iberty and

increasing equality of opportuni ty. He did have a conception of a ceil ing on property, but i t was quite moralist ic . He interpreted the labor theory of

value as a concept of d istribu tive justice that required that individuals be rec

ompensed according to their social contr ibut ions . In this sense, distributive

j ustice might require stratification because of the value system i n terms of

which functions and contributions were appraised. B u t counterbalancing

this idea was that of the norm of community, which required a certain

equalization of rewards. The concepts of distributive j ustice relative to d ifferentiated fu nct ions and of equality b ased on co m m unal values were among

the bases for Durkhei m's dist inction between socialism and communism i n

Socialism. T h e i d e a tha t Durkheim leaned more toward communism than

toward socialism (which he did not define in egalitarian terms) i s in part

j ustified by his apparent conception of community as a higher pr inciple

that both mitigated the "harshness" of distr ibu tive j ust ice and represented

its l im i t ing ideal in a "healthy" soc i e ty. In a s ta te m e n t which was entirely

in keeping with his growing emp hasis on the importance of community in


all "normal" societ ies , he observed: "Charity [in the b ibl ica l sense] is the

feeling of human sympathy freeing i tself from the last inegalitarian con

siderations and effacing or denying the part icular merit of this final form

of heredity transmission - the transmission of mental capaci ty. It is thus

only the apogee of ju s t ice . " 9 0 Durkheim's not ion of the role of the individual in society also recognized

aesthetic considerations. The response of the individual to shared norms and

values might involve imaginative creativity and uncommon sensitivity above

and beyond the call of du ty. Indeed, i n a mot i n the epigrammatic tradit ion

of the French moralistes, Durkheim asserted: "There are virtues which are

acts of madness, and i t i s their madness which constitutes the i r grandeur ."9 1 His centra l po int here as e lsewhere , h owever, was that t h e dai ly bread of

moral life was to be found in social practices and inst itutional norms in the

broadest sense. These deserved first-order attent ion before a discussion of

sub jective variations made sense.

In a word, we do not support the exclusive thesis that moral l ife has no individual aspect b u t that the social aspect i s the principal part and that one must first investigate i t if one wishes to know what the individual aspect consists of . I t i s not a quest ion of denying one of the two points of view for the benefit of the other, b u t of reversing the order of pr ior i ty ordinarily recognized b e tween them.92

Thus , from Durkheim's perspect ive, the essent ia l rat ionale for i ndividual

resistance to social pressure was not individual opinion or self -assert ion. It

was inf armed j u dgment that contrasted the exist ing state of society to the

way society ought to be .

The very pr inciple of rebell ion i s the same a s the pr inciple of confo rmism. An individual conforms to the true nature of society when he obeys tradit ional moral i ty. And he conforms to the true nature of society when he rebels against this morality . . . . In the moral realm as in all other realms of nature, the reason of the individual is n o t privileged because i t i s the reason o f t h e individual. T h e only reason fo r which one may legitimately, here as elsewhere, claim the right to intervene and to elevate oneself above historical moral reality in order to reform i t is not my reason or yours ; it i s impersonal , human reason, which i s truly real ized only i n science . . . . What I oppose to


the collectivity is the collectivity itself; b u t more and better conscious of i tselL 93

In the context of Durkh eim's concepts of normality and pathology, the idea expressed somewhat ambiguously in t h e quoted passage can be more

clearly formulated: The individual had the right and duty to oppose a patho

logical state of society. But he or she d id this , not in his or her own interest ,

but i n the interest of furthering the emergence of a normal or desirable state

of socie ty. D urkheim's extreme mode of affirmation at t imes seemed to deny

that there was any subjectivity or even individual agency in this action, even

in the making of a committed decisi o n . B u t his essential purpose was to deny t h a t there was a purely "perspectiva l , " decis ionist , or subjectivist posit ion

in moral i ty. Instead, he affirmed m orality to b e sc ient ific , i n the sense that

i t involved rat ional argument about obj ective considerat ions . Nowhere else

did Durkheim come closer to a sociological reformulat ion of the idea of

natural law. He contended that, at the very least, one could reason about

value j udgments and that a sociological conception of the problem gave

content to t h e reaso n ing process. Essential to moral i ty was t h e consensually

accepted norm and value that created solidarity in society. One's awareness of

the validity of the "normal" state endowed moral action with an overriding

goal - the creation or maintenance of socia l "normali ty. "

One dimension o f Durkheim's conception of the relation between society

and the i ndividual deserves special mention. In time, Durkheim provided so m e i n s ight i n t o the problem of psychopatho logy. I n h is early thought , h i s

desire t o establ ish a methodologically autonomous foundat ion for sociology

led him to emphasize the distinctions between sociology and psychology.

Later, h e broached the problem of social psychology. He also touched at

least peripherally on the problem of the relat ion between normality and pathology in society and the personali ty.

In The Rules and elsewhere, Durkheim observed that social no rmality and psychological norm ality were not identical concepts . 94 Social normal

i ty and pathology were related to the nature and fu nct ioning of social

structures . Psychological normality was a type of social conformity, and

psychopathology amounted to a type of social deviance. The normal society

would contain a marginal number of psychopathological individuals , j ust

as i t would contain a marginal number of other types of "deviants" ( includ-


ing idealists and creative exceptions as well as criminals) . 11 a pathological

state of society, the extreme structural faults in the organization of social

life would give rise to a distorted rate of psychopathology.

il Volume IV of the An nee sociologique, Durkheim used the tit le "Mad

ness as a Social Fact." In a book review, he argued tha t "social states are reflected in mental alienation" and ob served that rates of psychopathology

varied with social context . 9 5 As might b e expected, Durkheim was more

suggestive on the level of s tructural causat ion than he was on that of psy

chological descrip t ion or analysis. Nor did he investigate the shifts in the

very meaning of psychopathological phenomena with changing sociocultural

states and contexts in the richly suggestive manner of Michel Foucault .96

But h e d id see t h e poss ib i l ity of a study which would treat madness in t h e

same manner i n which he h a d treated suic ide . In Suicide i tself, Durkheim

discussed the psychological manifestations of anomie anxiety and egoistic

withdrawal . In examining the psychology of egoism, he underscored the

poss ib i l i ty of a schizoid spl it between inner and outer reali ty.

In turning away from the external world, consciousness folds in upon itself, takes i t s e lf a s i t s own unique ob jec t , and undertakes a s i t s pr inc ipa l ta sk self-ob servation and self-analysis. But by th is extreme concentration it merely deepens the chasm dividing it from the rest of the u n i verse . . . . If it i nd ividual izes i tself beyond a certain po in t , if i t separates itself too radically from other b eings, men or things, i t fi nds itself unab le t o communicate wi th t h e very source o f i ts normal nourishment and n o longer has anything to which i t can apply itself. I t creates nothingness within by creating i t without , and has nothing left to refl ect b ut its own misery. I t s only remaining ob ject of thought i s i ts i n n e r nothingness and the result ing melanch oly.97

Hence a certain type of narcissism eventuated in melanchol ic isolat ion

or, at the l imit , nihi l i sm. One conclusion that Durkheim himself did not

draw was that the concept of psychopathology was methodologically easier to apply b u t p h i losoph ically more dubious t h a n h i s own concept of soc ia l

pathology. 98 As a form of social deviance, psycho pathology often seemed

to be readi ly detectable . But i t s relat ion to other i s sues , such as cr iminal

responsibil ity, might b e problematic , and i t s very availabi l i ty made tempting

an identification of all unusual phenomena as psychologically aberrant. The


notion of social pathology was more d i fli cult to define. This difficulty, as

wel l as ideological reasons, may explain the i l l repute of the concept among

social scientists in contrast with the better fortune of psychopathology. Yet

from a philosophical viewpoint, Durkheim's concept of social pathology had

a stronger critical basis and was, in a sense, logically prior. From Durkheim's perspective, it would seem that the normal person would have to b e con

ceived normatively with reference to the normal society. He or she would

b e the person who lived in accordance with meaningful , legit imate norms,

applying them with the requisite flexibi l i ty and harboring within him- or

herself a marginal leaven of anomie. He or she would be a "conformist" in

a very special sense of the term. And even in the normal state of society, t h e ideo logical "deviant" would n o t b e unequivocally in the wrong. I n fact ,

Durkheim seemed to attr ibute a greater causal importance to the exceptional

individual in the normal state of soci ety, fo r in this context individual hybris

would correspond to the element of poss ibly creative anomie i n experience.

And it would bear a more positive relation to society as a whole: i t would

evoke a shared sense of the possible or, conceivably, the tragic which ritual and other symbolic forms would simultaneously heighten and mitigate. T h e

right kind o f social integration would itself help save the creative exception

from extreme psychopathology.

In the pathological state o f soci ety, the unquestioning conformist might

retain some semblance of mental balance at the price of f urthering dis in

tegrating forces in society a t large. The person with a psychopathological

adaptation might be more or less off course than the conforming sociopath: he or she might experience i n exaggerated form the causes of anxiety in

society or reveal in ob l ique and distorted fashion the symbol ic bases of

social normality missing i n t h e status quo . (Thus one might suggest that

the schizophrenic l ived in l imit ing form the dualism b etween inner self

and outer real ity ; the comp ulsive neurotic performed rituals which had lost

their way.) Durkheim never gave to his own conception of social psychology and its relation to the individual a truly convincing fo rm ulat ion , a n d

I have extended h i s thought i n a certain direction. Despite t h e dangers of

over-interpretation, i t might not b e stretching h i s thought too far to see i t

a s tending toward a cultural conception of psychopathology that provided

the basis for a cr i t ique of the very concept of "mental i l lness ." For within

the framework of h i s thought, the very category of mental i l lness might well


appear as a defensive response to disconcerting and dangerous phenomena

in a formally rat ional , bureaucratized society which had good inst i tut ional

reasons to fear for i t s own social sani ty. In this sense, a different apprecia

t ion of certain phenomena would i tself require their l imited status and their

insertion into a significantly d ifferent sociocultural context .99 The central point is that Durkheim's idea of the relation of sociology to

moral philosophy was based upon the coordinate axes of his thought: the tree

of social life and the concepts of normal i ty and pathology. The dist inctive

task of the comparative method was to arrive at types that did n o t go to

mutually reinf arcing extremes: the nominalism of traditional historiography

and the extreme realism and quest for universals of tradit ional phi losophy. Toward t h e end of h is l ife, however, Durkheim turned to t h e concern wi th

human nature tha t characterized tradit ional phi losophy. This concern was

central to his Elementary Forms. From D urkheim's sociological and cultural

perspective, the concept of human nature could be reformulated: "human

nature" referred to the poss ibi l i t ies of symbol ic exper ience corresp onding

to the trunk of the tree of social lif e. These poss ib i l i ties could take normal

or pathol ogical for m .

I n t h e m o s t general terms, what characterized t h e normal society? First

and foremost , i t was based upon a conscience collective that embodied a

tense balance of inst i tut ional norms and cultural symbols . The core of the

conscience collectivewas a variant of practi cal reason which D urkheim termed

!a morale, or the collective type. In their application t o concrete events by

average individuals, the norms and values of the conscience collective suffered a "fal l ing off" fro m ideal perfect ion . To ask more of ordinary social life would

be to fal l prey to anomie i deal ism, fanatically d emanding p erfection from

all people at all times. But to revitalize social life and to remind members

of society i n a dramatically forceful way of their obligation to show sacred

respect for shared values, special "r i tual" activities were necessary. In r i tual ,

the conscience collective was performatively expressed and regenerated in

in tense a n d purified fo rms tha t transcended t h e i n evitable compromi ses

of everyday life. And through r itual , communitas would be inst i tut i onally

realized and controlled. The normal society would also contain a dynamic

leaven of anomie - including more anomie displays of communitas. B u t

anomie would b e l imited t o a marginal aspect of the average personality and to marginal or liminal groups in society. Either extreme of the bell-shaped


curve of moral practice would reveal marginal categories of culture-bearing idealists (or perfect ionist deviants) at one end and of criminal deviants at the o ther. In the normal society, deviants presenting ideological challenges to the existing order might attain ritual status and, invested with ambivalent sacred values, become the objects of dangerous fascinat ion.

The function of the conscience collective in the normal state of society was to str ike a v iable balance between structure and communitas - the dual b ases of sol idar i ty in soc iety. Object ive and internal ized at the same t ime, the conscience collective would create a meani ngful sense of legitimate l imi t s . "All l i fe . . . i s a complex equi l ibr ium whose diverse elements l imit one ano ther, and th is equ i l ibr ium cannot b e broken without suffering and sickness." 10° Common to the b i o l ogical organism and society was a structure whose normal functioning depended on a dynamic equi l ibr ium of mutu ally l imit ing parts . The elementary postulate of Durkheim's phi losophy was the finite nature of all lif e. Indeed, one interesting aspect of his natural ist ic metaphors represen ting his understanding of society was the mediation of the dualism between nature and society, matter and mind, which another t endency of his thought affirmed in extreme for m . One may detect here a cosmological undercurrent that was more expansive than his social metaphysic. M oreover, D u rkheim in time became sensitive to the dangers of excessive formal rat ional i ty and constraint as pr inciples of social l ife ; th i s sensit ivity co inc ided wi th his growing awareness of the need for significant community in all society and h i s sense of the importance of the content of norms and values. One of his cr i t ic isms of Kant was of his predecesso r's fai lure to recognize that all human nature required l i m i tat ion, "our rational nature as well as our passionate nature ." " O u r reason i s not a transcendental faculty. It is part of the world and, consequently, i t must follow the law of the world. The universe i s l imited , and all l imitat ion presupposes forces which l imi t . " 1 0 1 Hence D u rkheim socialized a finite conception of reason and brought it into sustained contact with social problems.

In his early thought, D u rkheim saw little future for religion i n modern soci ety. With the expansion of his concept of reason, his view of the future of rel igion changed. He came to argue that a ritual attitude of sacred respect was at the root of all commitments and that per iodic , fe stive r i tual observances would be necessary to revive and reinvigorate these commitments. Hence the modern scientific and crit ical consciousness seemed to require a newer defini-


t ion of the relationship be tween faith and reason. For Durkheim, moreover, the bas ic nexus existed, not between religion, the radically transcendent, and the categorical imperative, b u t between religion, i deal yet this-worldly practices ( including r i tual ) , and communal spon taneity. The sacred did not serve primarily t o enforce the strictness of obligations; i t seemed t o enable one to overcome a sense of compulsion by making social norms desirable and even giving people a feeling of being at home in the world . " I t is far from t rue that the not ion of the imperative i s the t rue characteristic of the religious s ide of morality. On the con trary, one could show that the more a morality i s essentially rel igious, the more the idea of obligation i s effaced . " 1 02 Here Durkheim did relate religion to the overcomi ng, or a t least the mitigation, of tragic antipathies in human existence.

With the idea of the potential of community and the sacred in modern society, D u rkheim at least partially re-evaluated the nature of myth and i ts re lat ion to reason. H e seemed to imply that, insofar as myth d id not contradict the substantive rat ional i ty of the conscience collective, i t might well serve to convey forms of understanding which complemented or supplemented l i tera l t ruth .

There i s and there wi l l always be a p lace in soc ia l l i fe for a form of truth which wi l l perhaps express i tse lf in secular form b u t which wil l , despite everything, have a mythological and religious foundation. For a long t ime t o come, there wi l l b e two tendencies in every society : a tendency toward objective and sc ient ific truth and a tendency toward truth seen from the inside , or mythological t ru th . 1 0 ·1

A problem with mythologies i n a state of social pathology was that they often in tensified unn ecessary contradict ions and destructive forces that outraged reason instead of compensating for its necessary defects. Liberated from rational con trol, myth and ritual gravitated toward irrationality and maniacal agitation, which might include a quest for regeneration through quasi-sacrifi cial violence. The basic goal of Durkheim's thought was to retain rationality and the modern critical consciousness while opening society to repressed or avoided forms of h uman experience. The attempt to reconsider the sacred and assess its possible role in a revitalized modern society was one of the basic motivations of Durkheim's masterpiece, The Elementmy Forms of the Religious Life.


Notes

1 . Review of Gaston Richard, Le Socialisme et Ia science sociale, Revue philosophique IV ( 1 897) , 20 1 .

2 . First given as a lecture course i n 1 89 5 - 1 896 , this study was published posthumously in 1 928 as Le Socialisme (Paris : Alcan ) . An English translation by Charlotte Sattler has been published with an introduction by Alvin Gouldner : Socialism (New York: Collier Books, 1 962 ) . The first translation was under the title Socialism and Saint-Simon (Yellow Springs, Ohio: Antioch Press , 1 9 5 8 ) . References througho ut are to the Collier Books edition.

3 . Socialism, p. 40 . 4 . Ibid. , p . 4 1 . 5 . Ibid. , p. 1 4 2 . 6 . Ibid. , p . 1 44 . 7 . Ibid. , p. 1 24. 8 . "La Sociologie en France au X!Xe siecle ," Revue bleue, 4th series, X I I I

( 1 900 ) , 6 1 1 -6 1 2 . 9 . Ibid. , p. 6 1 2 . 1 0. Socialism, p. 2 3 3 . 1 1 . Ibid. , p. 2 3 8 . 1 2. !bid. , p . 2 4 5 . 1 3 . !bid. , p . 5 4 . 1 4 . !bid. , p p . 47-48. 1 5 . !bid. , p . 4 8 . 1 6 . Ibid. , p . 49 . 17 . Ibid. , p . 5 8 . 1 8 . Ibid. , p p . 59-60 . 1 9. Ibid. , p . 5 8 . 20 . "Cours de science sociale: Le�on d'ouverture , " Revue internationale de

l'enseignement, XV ( 1 8 8 8 ) , 3 3 . 2 1 . Les Regles de Ia methode sociologique ( 1 5 th ed . ; Paris: Presses U niversitaires

de France, 1 96 3 ) , p. 1 3 2 . 22. Les Formes elbnentaires de Ia vie religieuse (4th ed . ; Paris: Presses U niver

s itaires de France, 1 960 ) , p. 5 . 23 . For an account of th i s discuss ion, see H . Stuart Hughes, The Obstructed

Path (New Yo rk: Harper & Row, 1 96 8 ) , chap. i i . For the attitude of a contemporary historian, see Lucien Febvre, Combats pour l'histoire (Par i s : Col in , 1 9 5 3 ) , pp . 422-423. See also Laurent Mucciolli , La Decouverte du


social: naissance de Ia sociologie en France ( 1 870-1914) (Paris: Editions de Ia Decouverte, 1998).

24. "La Sociologie en France au XIXe siecle," p. 648.

25. "La Science positive d e I a morale e n Allemagne," Revue philosophique, XXIV (1887), 282.

26. "Introduction a I a sociologie de Ia famille," Ann ales de Ia Faculte de Lettres de Bordeaux, 1888, p. 262.

27. Regles de Ia methode sociologique, p. 110.

28. La Sociologie et son domaine scientifique" (first pub. 1900); in Armand Cuvillier, Oit va Ia sociologie franfaise?(Paris: Librairie Marcel Riviere, 1953 ), pp. 181-182. See also Emile Durkheim and P. Fauconnet, "Sociologie et sciences sociales," Revue philosophique, LV {1903), 481.

29. "Sociologie et sciences sociales," p p. 486-487.

30. 1896-1897; in Kurt Wolff, ed., Essays onSociologyand Philosophy(firstpub. 1960; New York: Harper & Row, 1964), pp. 342-343.

31. "Sociologie et sciences sociales" (not the same article as the one written with P. Fauconnet), in De Ia methode dans les s cience s (Paris: Alcan, 1909),

pp. 281-282.

32. ibid., p. 280.

33. Annie sociologique, I V {18991900), 124-125. For an excellent analysis of Durkheim's conception of the relation of history and sociology, see Robert N. Bellah, "Durkheim and History," in Robert A. Nisbet, ed., Emile Durkheim (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall, 1965), pp. 153-176.

3 4. L'Evolution pedagogique en France, In trod b y Maurice Halbwachs (2 vo Is.; Paris: Alcan, 1938).

35. See Emile Our kheim, Sociologie et philosophie (Paris: Presses U niversitaires

de France, 1963), pp. 42-43.

36. Bulletin de Ia Societe Franfaise de Philosophie, session of May 28, 1908

(Paris: Colin, 1908), p. 230.

37. Socialism, pp. 158-160.

38. ibid. 39. "Introduction a Ia morale," Revue philosophique, LXXX IX (1920), 89.

40. /_'Evolution pedagogique en France, l I, 199.

41. Ibid., pp. 95,124, 158-159.

42. "La Sociologie et son domaine scientifique," pp. 189-190.

43. L'Education morale (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1963 ), p. 41.

44. "Jugements de valeur et jugements de realite," in Sociologie et philosophie, p. 133. The essay was first given orally before the International Congress of Philosophy at Bologna and published in 1911 in the Revue de meta physique et de morale.

230 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist a12d Philosopher

4 5 . Sociologie etphilosophie, p p . 1 3 3 - 1 34 . 46 . Le�ons de sociologie (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 950) , p. 78

(trans. under the tide Professional Ethics and Civic Morals) . 47. Le Suicide (Paris: Presses U niversitaires de France, 1 960) , p. 447. One may

note the s imilarity ofDurkheim's ideas to those ofTocgueville in his A12cie12 regime.

48 . Le Suicide, p . 437. 49 . Socialt"sm, p. 437. 5 0 . L e Suicide, p . 436 . 5 1 . Le�o12s de sociologie, pp. 250-25 1 . Durkheim saw i n inheritance a general

characteristic that could be used for the objective classification of types of kinship. " If one tries to distinguish and classifY different types of the family according to the literary descriptions of travelers and, at times, historians, one is in danger of confounding the most different types. I f, on the contrary, one takes as the basis of classification the j uridical constitution of the family and especially the right of inheritance, one has an objective criterion which, without being infallible, nonetheless obviates many errors" (Regles de la methode sociologique, p . 4 5 ) .

5 2 . Educatio12 et sociologie (Paris: Alcan, 1 922) , p . 5 1 . 5 3 . "La Famille conjugale," Revue philosophique, XCI ( 1 92 1 ) , 1 0 . 54 . Le Suicide, pp . 427-428 . 5 5 . Preface to 2d ed., De L a Divisio12 du travail social (7th ed . ; Paris: Presses

Universitaires de France, 1 960) , pp. i i - i i i . 56. Ibid. , pp . vii-viii . 57. Ibid. , P· X. 5 8 . Ibid. 5 9 . Ibid. , p . xvi. G O . " 1 t i s far from a fact that the corporation had retained i n the eighteenth

century the beneficial effects i t had in the Middle Ages. The line of demarcation between masters and workers was sharp . . . . Just as the bo urgeo is scorned the artisan, the latter scorned the worker who had no apprentice" (Socialr'sm, p. 1 03 ) .

G I . Divisio12 du travail social, pp. xvi, xi . 6 2 . Ibid. , p . xxix n . 6 3 . re Suicide, p . 437. 64 . !bid. , p . 439. 6 5 . Ibid. , p . 442. G G . Le�ons de sociologie, p p . 1 08ff. 67 . M mztesquieu a12d Rousseau: Foreru1212ers ofSociology, trans. Ralph Manheim,

Foreword by Henri Peyre (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press , 1 960 ),

Chapter 5 Theory and Practice 23 I

pp. 22-23. Durkheim traced one l ine of French social thought leading fro m Montesquieu and Rousseau through Saint-Simon and Comte to himself and his school. It is interesting to contrast this tradition with the less optimistic strand leading fro m Montesquieu through Tocqueville and Comte to thinkers l ike Raymond Aron . On Tocqueville see my History and Reading: Tocquevifle, Foucault, French Studies (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2000) , chap. 2 .

68 . Le Suicide, p . 449. 69 . Division du travail social, pp. xi-xii . 70. Le Suicide, p . 43 8 . 7 1 . Socialism, pp. 6 1 , 6 2 , 247. 72. George Simpson, lntrod. to Emile Durkheim, The Division of Labor in

Society, trans. George Simpson (New Yo rk: Macmillan, 1 93 3 ) , p . xxvi i . See also the interpretation of George Catlin, In trod. to Emile Durkheim, The Rules of Sociological Method, trans. Sarah A. Solovay and John H . Mueller (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1 9 38) .

7 3 . Lerons de sociofogie, pp. 90-9 1 . 74 . Annie sociofogique, X ( 1 90 5 - 1 906) , 3 5 4 . 7 5 . Quoted in Montesquieu and Rousseau, p . 8 8 . 7 6 . Education morale, p . 3 6 . 77. Regfes de fa methode sociofogique, pp. xx-xx i , n . 2. 78 . Education morale, p. 44 . 79 . Ibid. , p. 58 . 80 . Sociologie et phifosophie, p. 52 . 8 1 . Lerons de sociologie, p . 3 6 . 8 2 . Regfes de fa methode sociofogique, p . 1 23 . 8 3 . Education morale, p. 8 3 . 8 4 . Division du travail social, p . 1 80 . 8 5 . Sociologie et philosophie, p . 5 1 . Durkheim did not see how dignity was a goal

of social action that could neither be simply assumed as a given nor postulated in an unqualified manner. Events such as the First World War, not to mention later events such as the Holocaust, as well as "everyday" occurrences in the treatment of others, like chi ld abuse and wife battering, make the simple assumption of dignity open to question. And the exclusionary use of dignity with respect to women and people of color, along with its role in denigrating nonhuman animals, render suspect any unqualified or absolute affirmation of dignity. Moreover, one would have to inquire critically into the idealist functions of dignity to construe as inferior or even abject certain activities (such as sex) or parts of the body (what Mikhail Bakhtin referred to as "the lower body stratum") . And dignity would legitimately


be contested as a value by the grotesque, the carnivalesque, and even the vulgar. Is there, for example, a genuinely funny joke that is dignifi ed?

8 6 . Education morale, p p . 4 5 , 1 29 , 42-43. 87 . Sociologie et philosophie, p. 69. 88 . Socialism, p. 2 5 8 . 8 9 . Lefons de sociologie, p . 202 . 90 . Ibid. , p . 2 5 8 . 9 1 . Sociologie et philosophie, p. 1 2 5 . 92 . Review of Alfred Fouillee's Les Elbnents sociologiques de Ia morale, Gustave

Belot's En quete d'une morale positive, and Adolphe Landry's Principes de morale rationnelle, i n An nee sociologique, X ( 1 90 5 - 1 906) , 3 6 1 .

93 . Sociologie et philosophie, pp. 95-96 . 94 . Regles de Ia methode sociologique, p . 6 6 . See also "Crime et sante sociale,"

Revue philosophique, XXX ( 1 895 ) , 523 . 9 5 . Review ofG . A. Duprat's Les Causes sociales de Ia folie, inAnnee sociologique,

IV ( 1 899- 1 900) , 475-476. 96 . See Mi chel Foucault, L'Histoire de Ia folie a l'!ige classique (Paris: Pion,

1 9 6 1 ) and R. D. Laing, The Divided Self (first pub. 1 9 60; Baltimore: Pengui n Books, 1 96 5 ) . Laing provides a sensitive phenomenological description of schizoid and schizophrenic dissociation of the personality i n response t o double b inds and a state o f " ontological" insecuri ty. The most obvious deficiency in Laing's thought is the absence of an adequate sociological dimension both in explaining the genesis of psychopathological p henomena and in proposing reforms. Except for his investigation of the "schizophrenogenic" family, his conception of society is disappoint ingly vague. On the level of reform, Laing came to advocate what might be called a mind-blasting technique. He looked to the psychopathological experience itself under controlled conditions as a deviant fo rce that can shake people loose from mad conformity in a pathological society. As a social solution, the dubiousness of this proposal is evident. In addition, the basically private or, at most, small-scale communal approach of Laing did not address itself to the problem of large-scale social transformation affecting major institutions. In one dimension of his complex account, Foucault was more relevant for a sociological and hi storical understanding of madness. On Foucault's h i story of madness, see my History and Reading: Tocqueville, Foucault, French Studies, chap. 3 .

97 . Le Suicide, pp. 3 1 4 -3 1 5 . 9 8 . Freud made a similar point . See h i s Civilization and Its Discontents, trans,

J. Riviere (London: Hogarth Press , 1 95 3 ), pp. 1 4 1 - 1 42 : "If the evolut ion of civilization has such a far-reaching similarity with the development of an

Chapter 5 Them·_y and Practice 233

individual, and if the same methods are emp loyed in both , would not the diagnosis be just ified that many systems of civil i zation - or epochs of i t - possibly even the whole o f humanity have become 'neurotic' under the pressure of the civil iz ing trends? To analytic dissection of these neuroses, therapeutic recommendations might fo llow which would claim a great practical in terest . . . . The diagnosis of collective neurosis, moreover, will be confronted by a special difficulty. In the neurosis of an individual we can use as a starting point the contrast presented to us between the patient and his environment which we assume to be 'normal . ' No such backgro und as this would be available for any society similarly affected; i t would have to be supplied in some other way. And with regard to any therapeutic application of our knowledge, what would be the use of the most acute analysis of social neuroses, since no one possesses the power to compel the community to adopt the therapy? In spite of al l these difficulties, we may expect that one day someone will venture upon this research into the pathology of civilized communities." The " background" for the analysis of social pathology was, according to Durkheim, to be found in comparative studies and the investigation of the relation of conditions, institutional structures, and cultural values. One of the "uses" of this type of d i agnosis would be in furthering legitimate critique and practice, including the critical understanding of "mental i l lness" and of the role of those who do have the power or influence to enforce conformity in a significantly patho logical sociocul tural context. On the "therapeutic" level of social reform, Durkheim was less adequate and only intimated the potential and dangers of various forms of pol i tical action. For a sometimes s implistic development in a direction comparable to that of Durkheim but within the Freudian tradition, see the works of Erich Fromm, especially The Sane Society.

99 . A similar in terpretation is applied to the thought of Marcel Mauss by Claude Levi-Strauss in his very important in troduction to Mauss's Sociologie et anthropologie (first pub. 1 9 50 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 968 ) , pp. xviii-xxii. Even Michel Foucault, in his early, excellent Maladie mentale et psychologie (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 9 54 ) , commits the error of identifying Durkhei m's concept of social pathology with psychopathology and mental i l lness (p . 7 5 ) . Within the Amzee school, the problem of the relat ionship between social patho logy and psychopathology was explored by Maurice Halbwachs in les causes du suicide (Paris: Alcan, 1 930) . And the problem was a central concern in the work of Charles Blonde!.

1 00 . Education morale, p. 3 4 . 1 0 1 . Ibid. , pp . 9 5 - 9 6 .


1 02. Sociologie et philoso phie, p . 1 02. I 03 . Pragmatisme et sociologie, ed . and In tro d . by Armand Cuvillier (Paris: Li

brairie P h i losophique J . Vrin , 1 9 5 5 ) , p . 1 84; reconstructed from students' notes for a course given in 1 9 1 3- 1 9 1 4.

6

The Sacred and Society

A seeking, a searching.

To seek whither?

To search the land , to seek the or igin ,

To seek out the base , to search out the unknown,

To seek out the atua [spir i t ] . May i t b e effectua l .

- A Maor i diviner's spel l

By common accord , The Elementary Forms of the Religious Lift i s D u r kheim's most ambit ious work . But consensus d i s in tegrates i n the eval

uat ion ofD urkheim's achievement. Mos t scholarly op in ion falls somewhere

b e tween the two extremes represented by the reactions of Robert Lowie and

Talcott Parsons. Lowie condemned D u rkhe im with fain t praise : "While by

no means i n cl ined to j o i n in the paeans of praise that have been intoned i n

D urkheim's hon or, I repeat that h i s essay i s a notew orthy mental exercise

and would rank as a landmark if dialect ic ingenuity sufficed to achieve greatness in the empir ica l sc iences ." 1 Parsons, on the other hand, praised

D u rkheim with b u t fai n t reservat ion :

Whi le os tens ib ly s tudying only a narrowly technica l e m p ir ical mater ia l which might be thought to be of l i t t le general i n terest , he manages to make i t the vehicle for unusually far-reaching theoretical reasoning. S o , while Les formes elr!mentaires de la vie religieuse i s i n o n e aspect a technical monograph o n Australian totemism, i t i s at the same t ime one of the few mos t important works on sociological theory . . . . In fac t only when a monograph i s at the same t ime an essay in theory can it be the highest type of empir ical s tudy. Durkheim had the faculty of combining the two aspects in a way that provided


models for future sociologists . Unfortunately, i t is un l ikely that many wi l l a t ta in this preeminence in the combinat ion . 2

There i s more to th i s diffe rence of views than the standard o ppos i t ion

between the empir ica l fi eldworker and the theoret ical concept b ui lder.

B o th because i t carried prominent tendencies o f D urkheimian soc io logy

to their extreme logical conclus ion and because i t exacerbated the per

manent ambigui t ies of D urkheim's thought, The Elementary Forms has

lent i tself, not only to contradictory eval uat ions , b u t also to divergent i n t erpretat ions . I ts argu m e n t m e rged various currents of thought into an

en com passing, ocean ic form of discourse that at t imes seemed to subvert

d i fferen ces among sc ient i fi c theory, mythol ogy, and p h i losophy. Thus the

in i t ia l problem is how to come to terms with this s ingular work - this

almost sacred text - which has had the power to allure and repel at the

same t ime. Instead of tracing Durkhe im's po ints in the exact order in which he made them, I be l i eve i t i s ana ly t i ca l l y useful t o approach The

Elementary Forms under three overlapping b u t distinct headings: the theory

of rel igion, soc io logical ep i s temology, and socia l metaphysic . In this way, o n e may at tempt to grasp the nature of the argument as a whole , i t s p lace

i n D urkheim's thought , and i t s relat ion to the shape of modern cul ture

and Durkheim's reformist hopes .

The Theory of Religion

By the t ime he wrote The Elementary Fo rms, Durkheim was convinced

that religion was the matrix of civilization and the pre-eminent form of social

l ife. In a preface to the Annie sociologique, he explained why socio logy should accord p riority to re l igion in i ts i nvestigation o f culture and society :

Religion contains in itself from the very beginning, even i f in an indistinct state, al l the elements which, i n dissociating themselves from it, art iculat ing themselves, and combin ing with one another in a thousand ways, have given r i se to the various manifestations of collective l ife . From myths and legends have issued forth science and poetry; from rel igious ornamentations and cult ceremonials have come the plastic arts; from ritual practice were born law and morals . One

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 237

cannot understand our perception of the world, our philosophical conceptions of the soul, of i mmortality, of l ife, if one does not know the religious beliefs that are their primordial forms. Kinship started out as an esse nt ially religious t i e ; pun i shment , contract, gift, and ho mage are transformations of expiatory, contractual, communal, honorary sacrifices, and so on . . . . A great number of problems change their aspects completely as soon as their connections with the sociology of religion are recognized. Our efforts must therefore b e aimed at tracing those connections.3

In The Elementary Forms, Durkheim's object was to trace the connections be tween religion and society on the highest level of generality by seeking the essential constituents of religion that represented a permanent aspect of human nature in society. "What we want is to find a means to discern the ever present causes on w h i ch depend the most esse nt ia l fo rms of re l ig ious thought and practi ce . " 4 In other words , Durkheim was working at the most basic level of the tree of soc io-cultural lif e . He sought the common trunk of specifically human experience, which would be differentiated according to varying conditions in different types of society. M oreover, i t was contextually clear that he was primari ly concerned with the nature and role of religion i n t h e "normal" fo rm of social l i fe . Thus h i s last major work, l ike the studies which preceded it , was at least impl icitly conceived with reference to the two coordinate bases of Durkheim's thought: the paradigm or model of the tree of soc ia l l i fe and the root dist inct ion between the normal and the pathological .

The method Durkheim employed was that of the "crucial experimen t . " Th rough concen trated analysis of a l i m ited range of related facts, he attempted to arrive u l t imately at the formulation of general laws. Durkheim's "crucial experiment" focused on "pr imitive" societies and , m o re specifically, on Australian societies and used the American Indians as a sort of control group. The principal analytic reason for this choice was methodological . The relative simplicity of "primitive" societies made them the most plausible objects of study in the attempt to define the essence of religion and the permanent i n h u m an nature. It may be observed, m oreover, that the general methodological viewpoint was analytically independent of the specific theory of totemism, the evolutionary tendencies, and the social metaphysic with which i t became associated in the course of Durkheim's argument.


The p r o b lem o f in i t i a l defi n i t ion , which was always s ignifi cant i n Durkheim's work, assumed paramount i m p ortance i n The Elementary

Forms. The defin i t ion of the rel igious phenomenon was m uch m o r e than a pre l iminary step i n the or ientat ion o f research . I t e m bod ied a summary of what was essential in re l ig ion a n d permanent i n human nature . Defini t ion was thus re la ted t o subsequent argument in accordance wi th the Cartes ian d ic tum that a cha in i s a s s t rong as i t s fi rst l ink .

Durkhe im b egan by re ject ing general defi nit ions of re l ig ion i n terms of a personal divinity o r radical ly transcendental myster ies . As he h a d p u t i t i n a n ear l ier ar t ic le , t h e n o t i o n o f divini ty was o n l y a "secondary ep i sode" i n the history of rel igions . 5 B u d dhism offered a prominent exa m p l e of a m aj o r rel igious system w i t h o u t d iv in i t i e s . I n a d d i t i o n , m a n y rel igions provided cases o f r i tuals wi thout gods o r , indeed , o f gods w h o were c o n ceived as t h e products o f r i tual act ion . From these considerat ions Durkheim derived the general p r inc ip l e that the meaning , effic acy, and soc i a l funct ion of cult were independent of the i d e a of d iv ine intervent i o n .

D u r k h ei m's d i scuss i o n of transcendenta l myster ies was m o re theoreti cally e laborate than h i s comments on the not ion of d iv in i ty. The not ion of the inexpl icab ly myster ious (or the tota l ly o ther ) was rec iproca l ly related to the not ion of a n au ton o m o us rea lm of nature . B o t h not ions were a l i en to "p r i m i tive" m an . Ins tead , he h a d an experience of le mer

veilleux - the wondrous - which comprehended b o th the processes of nature and t h e do ings o f h u m ans .

For h im there i s noth ing strange i n the power o f vo ice or gesture to com m an d the elements , to s top o r hasten the m o t i o n of the stars , to br ing rain or cause i t to cease , etc. The rites wh ich he e m p loys to assure the fer t i l i ty of the so i l or the fecundity o f an imal species on w h i c h he i s n o u r i s h e d d o n o t appear m o re i rrat iona l in h is eyes than the technical p rocesses of which our agricultural ists make use, for the same purpose , do to ours . The powers which he puts in to p lay by these diverse means d o n o t seem to h im t o have anything especial ly myster ious a b o u t them . . . . T h a t is why the mi racu lous intervent ions wh ich the anc ients a t t r ibuted t o the i r gods were not to t h e i r eyes m i rac l e s in the m o de r n sense of t h e word. For them, they were b e a utiful, rare , or t e r r ib l e spectacles , or causes


of surprise and wonder (thaumata, mirabifia, miracufa) ; b u t they never saw them as gl impses into a mysterious world which reason cannot penetrate . 6

D u rk h e i m c o n ceded t h a t t h e fee l i n g of supe rn atural mystery had cons iderable i m p o rtance in certain rel igi o n s , notab ly C h ri s t i an i ty. But i t could not b e conceived as a b as i c e lement o f Christ ianity i t se lf s ince i t was subject to s ignificant variations and even total ecl ipse in Western his tory. A fort ior i , i t could n o t b e seen as the essence of all rel igion.

This concept ion of the supernatural and transcendental mystery was highly s ignificant . Durkhei m's thought was a forerunner of m o dern "death of G o d " t h eo l o gies , i n sofar as t h ey use " G o d " to refer to t h e rad ica l ly transcendental or to tally other divinity of Christ ianity who may even be recognized as absent . In add i t ion , he seemed to indicate the poss ib i l i ty of overcoming pos i tiv ist ic concept ions of sc ience through a phi losophy that integrated modern rat ional ism into a more comprehensive v is ion of valid experience. And he shifted the center of gravity i n religious i n terpretat ion from the supernatura l to a notio n of Le mervei/Leux int imate ly b o u nd up with the sacred and co m m u nity.

Durkheim deflned re l ig ion thus :

A religion is an in regrated system of be l iefs and p ractices relating to sacred things, that is to say, things se t apart and forbidden - bel iefs and practices which unite into one and t h e same moral co m m u nity called a chu rch all those who adhere to them. The second element which thus fi nds a place in our definit ion i s no less essential than the first ; for b y showing that the idea of religion i s inseparable from tha t o f a church , i t shows that religion mus t be an eminently collective thing.7

The definit ion comprised two related elements, one substantive, the other funct ional . The subs tantive element asserted that religion involved a percept ion of the world in terms of the d is t incti o n between the sacred and the profane . The second element asserted that rel igion fu nct ioned to create moral communi ty in society.

T h e second e l ement o f Durkhei m's defini t ion is more controversial than the first. In one sense , Durkhei m's concept ion had a cr it ical edge


that was related to h is idea of soc ia l normal i ty. It was also related to h is soc io logica l at tempt to provide modern soc ie ty, and specifi cally h is own Third Republ ic , wi th a secular moral i ty that allowed fo r a reconceived relation to the sacred. Impl ic i tly, i t seemed to deny rel igious legit imacy to churches based on extreme b u reaucratizat ion. �1ore expl ic i tly, it impugned the val id i ty of re l igious systems that funct ioned to atomize individuals in soc iety. M o reover, i t did not consider the context i n which rel igion or quas i-rel igi o u s i d eologies might integrate a group internally b u t i n tensify confl ict in the broader soc ie ty. Obvio usly, D urkheim's defi nit ion appl ied only to the function of rel igion i n the normal s tate of soc iety ; i t appl ied to pathological s ta tes only as an expression of evo lu t ionary opt imism or an ind i ca t ion o f projected goals .

I t might be observed, however, that a more "value-neutral" and predi ctive line of argument was open which Durkheim did not take. He might have argued that religion in a context of extreme b ureaucratization or atomistic individualism served the interest of relatively small and privileged el ites but that a more communal experience of the sacred had greater mass appeal . This approach would h ave led to the problem of the relationsh i p between certain conceptions of the sacred and certain social fu nctions. The case of Protestantism was significant in this respect. Sectarian Protestantism, which arose in part as a reaction against bureaucratic corruption (e.g. , the commercialization of indulgences), conceived the sacred in radically transcendental and supernatural terms that fu nctioned to create an unmediated, if inscrutable, l ink between a hidden divinity and atomized ind ividuals. As Weber observed, this att i tude was maintained only among a select el ite , whi le the larger population, especially i n rural areas, fell back upon more cosmic and communal forms of religious experience that included elements of magic . Thus Du rkheim's not ion of the relationship b e tween the sacred and community might have been associated with popular or mass religion and perhaps with developmental possibil it ies in modern secular societies, including his hopes for Third Republ ic France. I n th i s sense, h e might have supplemented Weber's idea of the "bureaucratization of charisma" with a countervailing idea of the tendency of popular movements to react against routinization and atomization i n a shared charismatic quest for a more communal experience of the sacred. To the extent that the correlation held between a communal conception of the sacred and popular devotion - or be tween its absence and mass unrest - plausibi l i ty


would be lent to the claim that Durkheim had at least discovered a permanent or transhistorical aspect of human nature in society. In one form or another, the bond between the sacred and community would m ake its relevance fel t in a l l social contexts.

Like his definition of religion, Durkhei m's attempt to distinguish religion from magic had both substantive and functional components. And it too seemed most problematic on the sociof unctional level which received the bulk of his attention.

Substantively, Durkheim held that both religion and magic depended upon the distinction between the sacred and the profane. They differed, however, in their orientations to the sacred. Religion presented a "ritual att i tude" toward the sacred exper ienced in purely sym b o l i c terms. If re l igion involved an experience of the sacred as, so to speak, an end in itself, magic took the sacred as a means. It placed "sacred forces" in a causal circuit geared to the achievement of practical , uti l itarian effects. In extreme forms, this manipulat ion of the sacred brought about its profanat ion. I t may be parenthetically noted that this po int of view was applied by Hubert and Mauss , in their ''Theorie generale de I a magie ," to the relatio nsh ip between m agic and technology. 8 From this point of view, technology secularized magic as a means of controll ing seemi ngly desacralized or disenchanated objects i n the world.

D urkheim's dist inct ion be tween religion and magic paralleled the oppos i t ion , i n his moral phi losophy, b etween the normative and the ut i l i tarian. Magic, for him, almost seemed to imply a misappropriat ion of the pub l i c fu nd of sacred values for private and part icular ist ic interests . Thi s aspect of his argu ment was especial ly pronounced in the more sociofunct ional e lement o f h is d is t inct ion . Here , however, he proposed d ifferential characterist ics that were not universal in incidence and which, fu rthermore, harbored internal contradict ions in their appl icat ion to d i fferentiated types.

In considering social functions, Durkheim argued that religion was inconceivab le without a church but tha t "there was no c h u rch of magic ."

Between the magician and the individuals who consult him, as between these individuals themselves, there are no lasting bonds which make them mem bers of the same moral c o m m u n i ty, comparable to t ha t formed by b elievers in the same god or the observers of the same cult .


The magician has a clientele and not a church, and it is very possible that his clients have no relations with one another, even to the point of not knowing one another; even the relations which they have with him are generally accidental and transient; they are like those of a sick man with his d octor.9

Thus the magician might provide services for individuals whose per

sonal problems were not adequ ately resolved in the dominant system. Yet

Durkheim's argument harbored a number of difficulties. These related both

to the natur e of symbolic systems and to their social fu nctions in a "church"

of bel i evers. In the context of The Elementary Forms as a whole, a church

obviously meant a solidarist ic corporative group that especially emphasized

the existence of moral community among its members. But Durkheim did

not attempt to relate this notion to the problem of highly bu reaucratized

churches or h ighly individualistic sects.

In order to appreciate Durkheim's conception of religion and its relation to

magic, it is useful to distinguish b etween ( 1 ) symbol ic systems that integrate

religion and magic as elements of a more inclusive paradigm, (2) symbol ic

systems that d issociate religion from some forms of magic, and (3) symbol ic

systems that dissociate religion from all forms of magic. These three types

of symbolic systems may then be related to the existence and strength of a

church, in the l imited sense of a solidaristic corporative group.

In "primitive" societies , magic and religion were, typically, integrated

elements of the same over-all p aradigm. Durkheim at times seemed to rec

ognize this . But he did not see the ways in which both religion and magic

served to integrate the same corporate group (or "church" ) . A rain ritual

which insured a good crop fo r the group as a whole did not work invidiously

for the beneflt of special or private interests. And i t was in "primi tive" soci

eties, where the integration of the meaningful content and social function

of religion and magic was strongest, that the element of moral community

was most marked .

The history of Christianity in the West, which was often Durkheim's

implic i t frame of reference, revealed different developments. As i t became

increasingly b u reaucratized and less communal , Catholicism did dissoci

ate religion and certain forms of magic. "White" or beneficent magic was

assimilated into the dominant symbolic system as miracle. "Black" or ma-


leficent magic was relegated to the sphere of diabolical forces. In missionary

territories, elements of other symbolic systems that could not be integrated

into the established p aradigms were frequently dismissed as "black" magic.

And charismatic deviants, who upset the bureaucratic administration of sa

cred values and might be most feared when they developed fo llowi ngs, were of ten condemned as witches or sorcerers. The strongest communal bonds

in such a context might well b e generated between selfl ess disciples and the

charismatic "deviant" who used m agical prowess as an instrumental support

for a revo lutionary prophetic message. Within the dominant organization,

community was subordinated to the imperatives of a bureaucratic , hierar

chical structure. In sectarian Protestant i sm , th e tendency was to purge all magic fro m rel i

gion and to brand all m agical elements as signs of witchcraft. The denigration

of visible symbolism and its efficacy was attendant upon the establishment

of an unmediated nexus b etween the "inner" self of the individual and a

transcendental, hidden divinity who was totally other. The degree of commu

nity derived from religion was decreased to a minimum. The religious gro up

was a sect in which m e m b ers h i p was vo lu n tary o n the part of the indi vidual

and subject to quasi-contractual approval of one's personal qualifications

by members of the sect . Magic was entirely a matter of extra-religious and

irreligious private consultation; it was highly suspect in the light of transcen

dentally oriented religious bel ief, the radical secularization of "this-worldly"

experience, and the idea that worldly success was related to religious election only as an external index. But tension was created b etween an extremely

transcendental theology, which could be used as a basis of existence only by

an elite , and the tendency of the common "man" (and the common in all

"men") to fall back upon paradigms that allowed an ambivalent fascination

with the symbolism of magic and sorcery. Even private consultations with a

magician might give rise to feelings of dependency that contrasted sharply

with the individualistic nature of the established religious system. Indeed a

magician might develop affective bonds with those he or s h e assisted - bonds

theorized i n psychoanalysis in terms of transference.

In br i ef, i t would seem that when the condit ions of D u rkheim's defi

n i t ion of rel igion appl ied , the condit ions of religion's dist inct ion from

magic d id not , and vice versa . It was i n systems with a high degree of in

tegration b e tween the meaningful content and social funct ions of rel igion


and magic that mora l community was most marked. One bas ic diffi culty

in his a t tempt to dist inguish sharply between rel igion and magic in the

" primi tive" context was his failure to see that genu ine bel ief i n a symbolism

might well involve a bel ief in the causal efficacy of that symbol i sm. The

d i fference b e tween the " merely" symbolic and the symbolic as an object of genuine be l i ef was set fo rth by Durkheim h imse lf in an earl ier work:

Contemporary ideas make us i nclined to see mere symbols or modes of allegorical figuration. But i t is a general rule that practices do not take on at first merely symbolic characteristics. This type of symbolism is a form of decadence and i t comes only when their primi tive sense is lost. Symbols b egin not as external signs b u t as efficacious causes of social relations. 1 0

The problem, of course , was that fro m a crit ical s tandpo int Durkheim

recognized the i l lusory aspects of magic . If he was to save rel igion and make i t compat ib le wi th rat ional i sm, he seemed obl iged to dissociate i t

fro m magic a n d its discredited falsehoods . The ant ipathy between the

col lectively no rmative and the par t i cular ist ical ly ut i l i tar ian , wh ich was

essent ia l to h i s own m o ral ph i losophy, served th i s need. As we shal l see ,

however, the issue left open b y h i s soc ia l m e taphysic was whether h i s sal

vaging operat ion was untenably reduct ion i s t ic and whether it adequately

accounted for the dimension of causal efficacy i n sacred symbol i sm. At t h i s p o i n t one migh t have e x p e cted Durkhe im to turn directly to

a s tudy o f the sacred and the p rofane i n b el ief and r i tua l p rac t i ce , u s ing

a n in - depth analysis o f a sma l l se t o f "primi tive" soc i e t i e s as a bas i s of

generalizati o n . One might a l so have expected h im to provide a deta i led ,

cr i t ica l , comparat ive s tudy of sacr ifice , i t s role i n soc iety (at t imes in

secularized for m ) , and its re la t ion t o b o th vict imizat ion and gift-givi n g

i n bu i ld ing communal sol idar i ty. A h i gh ly s ign ificant e x p loratory study i n t h i s d irect ion h a d already b e e n completed by H u b er t a n d M a u s s in the i r

"Essai sur I a nature et l a fonct ion du s a crifi ce" ("S acrifi ce: Its Nature and

Funct ion" ) . 1 1 In l ine with the earl ier work of D urkheim and h i s school ,

the p r i m ary problem would h ave b een the re lat ionship and ramifi cations

of two sets of correlated oppos i t ions : sacred-profane and communitas-dif

ferent iated structure . This focus would have provided ins ight into the key ques t ion of how rel igious bel iefs and pract ices const i tuted the u l t imate

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 24 5

source o f legi t imat ion i n society and how they funct ioned i n re lat ion to

so l idar i ty.

Instead, Durkheim at this po int turned to the evolutionary problem of

the earliest known form of religi on . This preoccupation was one basis for

the exaggerated importance he attr ibuted to totemism in the history of religions. Indeed , it inhibi ted him from analyzing ob j ect ively both the extent

to which totemism did or did not have religious aspects and the problem of

other facets of religion in the societies he investigated . But the concentration

upon totemism had another b asis in Durkheim's thought. In the course

of his argument, the term "origin" took on three senses : the evolutionary

sense of a historical start ing point; the analytic sense of a permanently app l icab le paradigm or a model of "ever present causes" ; and the sense of a

legitimating mythical source or fons et origo . The evolutionary signifi cation

was in fact the least important , since Durkheim himself was very cautious

concerning i t s pertinence. On the other hand, the analytic and mythical

meanings seemed to merge in his mind and to b ecome the primary basis

for his interest in origins. Insofar as i t was not simply an adj unct of the contemp orary anthropological quest to fi n d the "secret of the totem" (in the

phrase of Andrew Lang) , totemism was important in The Elementary Forms

largely because it proved convenient for Durkheimian social metaphysic and

for the myth of origins which helped to legit imate it and, with it, sociology

itself in D urkheim's encompassing, indeed grandiose, conception of it . By

seemingly providing the genealogical origin of religion and society, soci

ology performatively furnished its own founding myth and underwrote i ts transformative mission in modern soci ety.

Durkheim prefaced his account of to temic be l ief and r i tua l with a

refutat ion of competing theories of the original form of religion. Natur

ism derived religion fro m the primitive personalization of awesome forces

of nature. In the l inguist ically oriented formulat ion of Max M Li ller, this

conception of natural processes was attr ibuted to the metaphoric power

of language. In t h i s sense , according to Durkhe im , rel igion was "an im

mense metaphor wi thout ob jective value . " 1 2 Animism, which received i t s

most inHuential formulation in the works of E . B. Tyl or, maintained that

the minimal definit ion of religion rested on a belief in spirits or souls . The

origin of this be l ief was the reliance of the "primitive" mind on the idea of

spirits in order to interpret dreams. The reasons for D urkheim's rejection of


both naturism and animism were identical : these theories either ignored the

sacred or reduced i t to a groundless i l lus ion . "Not only would the symbols

through which religious powers are conceived mask i n part the i r t rue nature,

b u t , furthermore, behind these i mages and figures there would be only the

nightmares of uncultivated minds. Religion would in the last analysis b e

only a systematized a n d lived dream without any foundat ion in reality. " 1 3

Despite i t s part ial validi ty, D urkheim's elaborate and somewhat tedious

cr i t ique of naturism and animism had al l the qual it ies of a refutat ion of

heresies . H e d id not a sk what the ro le of the relationship between humans

and nature might be in religious systems or what part metaphor (which is not

always "mere" metaphor) might have in articulating this relat ionship . And, although the Austra l ians referred to the mythical past as "dream t ime," he did

not inquire into the place of the "night s ide" of life in religious experience.

In fact , he seemed to conceive dreams in a n arrowly Cartesian manner that

denied them all cognitive value. Nor did he rej ect reductionism as a mode

of interpretat ion. Prefacing h is own reductionist ic interpretat ion of totem

ism, he simply denied the val idity of competing forms of reductionism in naturism and an imism. The refutation of h e res ies i n s h o r t was a prerequisite

of apologetics . The style of argument became increasingly theological .

Certain aspects of Du rkheim's treatment of totemism were analytically

independent of his social metaphysic. B u t the growing in terpenetration of

his theory of totemism and his social metaphysic certainly contributed to his

imp ermeability to mounting evidence that falsified some of his elementary

assumptions. Durkheim believed that totemism was a global institution that combined kinship and religion. In other words, he assumed that the same

group (the clan) shared both kinship and religion and that the same object

(the totem) was the family name or emblem and the object of religious sym

bol ism.

The pr imary source for facts on the Australian tr ibes , which were the

presumed object o f Durkheim's crucial experiment, was the exemplary monograph by Sir Baldwin Spencer and Francis James Gi l len , The Native Tribes of Central Australia. 1 4 The Arunta (or Aranda) tribe received extensive treatment

by Spencer and Gillen and by Durkheim. What were the foits cruciaux? There

was no identity among the patrilocal territorial group, the partil ineal exogamic

group , and the totemic group with a territorial base. Religion was dispersed

through various elements of cultural lif e, including religious confraternities not


identical with the former groupings. The totemic groups, moreover, were not

strongly constituted as corporate entities . The central ro le of the intichiuma

ceremony of the totemic groups, which Durkheim attempted to interpret i n

predominantly religious terms a s a "primitive" sacrifice involving oblation and

communion, d id appear to be predominantly magico-economic in nature. To Durkheim's dismay, Sir James Frazer had already made this point. Indeed,

Mauss himself had argued i n the Amzee sociologique that the seeming act of

"communion" in the "totemic sacrifice" was performed by the totemic group

in order to consume the sacred element of the totem and thereby free i t for

profane consumption by other groups. 1 5 This consumption created a meta

phoric link between the intichiuma ritual and the ordinary economic life of soci ety. The manifest purpose of th e ritual was to assure the reproduction of

the animal species. Moreover, exogamic marriage rules applied to patrilineal

moieties (or phratries) and to marriage classes within them determined by

generati on. The totemic affiliation, in contrast, did not regulate exogamy and

was determined by the ancestral totemic spirit mythologically associated with

the spot at which the mother believed herself to have conceived the child. In the face of s i m i lar evidence which cou ld n o t be i n tegrated into the

paradigm of a global totemic institution, Durkheim resorted to ingenious

and factually gratuitous evolutionary arguments. Indeed his general response

to hostile evidence for which he could n o t otherwise account was to argue

gratuitously that i t corresponded to a later (o r earlier) state of society than

the one he was addressing. Indeed evolutionary ideas were more important

in Durkheim's attempt to relate the "original" totemic institution to known facts about certain societies than in his attempt to relate these to other types

of societies. In such Annee articles as "La Prohibition de l ' inceste et ses origi

nes" ( 1 896 ) , "Sur le totemisme" ( I 900) , and "Sur I ' organisation des societes

australiennes" ( I 903) , he had laid the groundwork for The Elementary Forms

by attempting to explain away counterevidence by imaginative accounts of

the "original" totemic institution and how it had evolved into one known form or another. T h e pr imary impression left by these efforts is comparable

to that left by Ptolemaic astronomy when it was compelled to resort to in

creasingly intricate epi cycles in order to account in some way for increasingly

unmanageable evidence.

It might b e maintained that even if one concedes that D urkheim fai led

to provide an adequate general theory of totemism, this fai lu re did not


inval idate h i s general theory of rel igion. Objec tively, totem1sm would

b e relevant to a general theory of rel igion only insofar as i t prov ided in

certain cases a n instant iat ion of rel igious symbol ism. After a l l , D urkheim

himself was primari ly interested in rel igion and i t s relat ion to society .

And in The Elementary Forms, he argued that the selection of the totem as a religious sym bol was at first arbi trary. From an object ive point of view,

this l ine of argument is convincing, and it even makes one wonder why

Durkheim was so insistent about the i m p ortance of totemism. The reason

for his interest in totemism becomes less puzzling only in the context of

his social metaphysic. Once totemism was impl icated in his metaphysic

of society whose founding myth simultaneously legitimated sociology, i t became invested w i t h a l l t he sym b o l i c values t h a t follow in the train o f a

basic commitment . In this sense, Durkheim's steadfastness in the defense

of an "original" totemic inst i tut ion was much more than a case of senile

hardening of the interpretive categories or psychological involvement in a

pe t theory. It involved an affective and evaluative investment or "cathexis"

in the strongest sense of the word. To deve l o p an idea of Durkh eim's t h eory of religio n , let us try to dis

entangle the elements of Durkheim's discussion that were not altogether

subservient to his social metaphysic and his "sociologi sm." Bel iefs and r i tu

als constituted the complementary modes through which people in society

related to the sacred. Altho ugh he recognized the int imate relat ionship

between ritual and myth in rel igious cults , Durkheim did not b a lance his treatment of r i tua ls with a theory of myths. His analysis of bel iefs concen

trated in rather Platonic fashion upon conceptual paradigms or ideas that

were presumed to be basic to religious bel i efs. 1 6

Durkheim divided rituals in to the following types (which are perhaps

more adequately conceived as elements present in varying combinations in

specific r ituals) : the ritual interdict , or tab o o , separating the sacred from

t h e profane; the sacrifice, compris ing the elements of oblation (offering or

gift) and com m u n i o n t h rough consumpt ion or d i spos i t ion of t h e sacr ificia l

vict im (the vict im being the typical offering o r gift); the mimet ic r i tual ,

which had special relevance for bel iefs about causation; the representative

or commemorative r i tual ; and the p i acular or mourning ritual relating

to sorrowful events like death. The negative cult involving taboos served

generally as a preparation for the pos i tive cult (sacrifi cial , mimet ic , com-

Chapter 6 The Sctcred and Society 24 9

memoratlve, and piacular rituals) by sett ing people and things off from the profane wor ld . E i ther i n perio dically recurrent form or as a reaction to

potent ially unsettl ing crit ical events, the role of ritual was to maintain and

dramatically re-create the meaningful symbol ic universe that functioned . .

to In regrate society. Thus , for Dur kheim, the center of religion as an o perative o r perfor

mative force was the cult. And central to the cult was the nexus between

symbolic manifestation and sol idarity, especially in i t s intensely communal

forms. People experienced the strongest bonds with one another when they

demonstrated that they held the same thi ngs sacred.

From our po in t of view, it is readi ly seen how the group of regularly repeated acts which form the cult assume once again all their importance. In fact, whoever has really practiced a rel igion knows quite well that it i s the cult which gives rise to the impressions of joy, of interior peace, of sereni ty, of enthusiasm which are, for the faithful, l ike an experimental proof of their be l iefs . The cult is not s imply a system of signs by which the fa ith is outwardly translated; i t is a collection of the means by which faith is created and re-created periodically. Whether it consists of material acts or mental operations, i t is always this which is effi caciousY

Hence the primary imp ortance Durkheim attributed to the alternation

between ordinary profane activities and sacred, ritual occasions in the "nor

mal" rhythm of social life. Indeed, it was only in The Elementary Forms that

his conception of the normal society came to full fruition. In and through

festive celebration, the symbolic values which guided social life would b e

performatively reinvigorated and receive t h e power to prevent unwanted

historical change while regenerating what was of historical and social value.

Anomie could be kept within tolerable bounds only if members of society

were periodically reminded in intense ways of the bases of their common

cultural world and their solidarity. Ritual and feast were thus the media of

living memory that reproduced bonds and reinforced institutional norms in

a solidaristic society. 1 8

Durkhei m's interpretation of religious bel iefs was i n one sense influenced

by th i s concep t i o n of cu l t . He began with t h e assumption tha t t h e totem

was in fact a religious symb ol . But his subsequent argument could be ap-


pl ied to any religious symbol . For he went on to affirm that the fi gurative

representation of the sacred object was more sacred than the object (e .g . ,

the p lant or animal spec ies ) i tself. From th i s point on, P la to was Durkheim's

maltre depenser. The figurative representation of a sacred object derived its

rel igious qual ity from a higher source. The totemic emblem received i ts sacredness thro ugh partaking of an archetypical totemic principle . On a

still higher level of abstraction, the totemic pr inciple , in turn, related to the

Maori concept of mana. Especial ly i n Durkheim's ult imate and essentially

moral conception of it , mana might well be compared to Plato's concept of

the Good or to the analogous Christian idea of the indwelling of the Holy

Spir i t in the hearts of the jus t . The meaning of t h e concept of mana and ana logous concepts in a l l

cultures remains a po int of content ion among anthropologists . Robert

Henry Codrington, whom D urkheim fol lowed i n this respect , defi ned

"1nana" thus:

There is a belief in a force altogether distinct from physical power, which acts in all ways for good and evil; and which it is of the greatest advantage to possess or control. This i s mana. I think I know what our people mean b y i t . . . . I t i s a power or infl uence, not physical and in a way supernatural; but i t shows itself in physical force, or in any kind of power or excellence which a man possesses. This mana is not fixed in anything . . . . All Melanesian religion consists, in fact, in getting this mana for one's self, or getting i t used for one's benefit. 1 9

Mana thus corresponded, i n the first instance, t o a n impersonal force

immanent in the world and yet beyond ordinary capacities or processes. It

could be related to the notion of cosmic unity and to the feeling of le merveilleux. Manifesting itself in exceptional events and powers, it was nonetheless beh ind the order of the universe, which was not extraordinary in its daily

manifestations but wondrous in its totality - and even epiphanous in its

details when they were seen in a certain light. In brief, mana represented the

unitary source of the sacred, the ecumenical core of all religion. In specific

events, beliefs, and rituals, mana became differentiated and separated from

the profane. And the reality for which mana stood was the primary object of the ritual attitude of sacred respect and the m agical be l ief in symbolic efficacy.

As Durkheim observed:


A Dakota Indian . . . expressed this essential consubstantiality of all sacred things in a language full of relief. "Everything which moves stops here or there a t one t ime or another. The bird which flies stops at one place to make i t s nest, a t another to rest fro m i t s fl i ght. The man w h o walks, stops when he wishes. l t i s the same with the god [/a divinite'J. The sun, so bright and magnificent, is one place where he stopped. The trees, the animals are other places. The Indian thinks of these places and sends a prayer to them in order to reach the place where the god has stopped and receive assistance and blessings." In other words, the wakan [a term s i mi lar in meaning to "m ana"] (for t h i s is what he was talking about) comes and goes through the world, and sacred things are the points upon which it alights.2°

Once D urkheim's argument reached this point , however, i t did not follow

the lead of the Dakota Indian in intimating that the root of"primitive" religion

and the essence of all religion was an intuition of the solidarizing force binding

all existence - including the compassionate or empathic bonding of humans

with all "others" in the cosmos. Rather, i t rewrote the cosmic allegory i n a sui generis social direction and turned to the question of the origin of mana (and

analogous concepts like wakan) in a fashion that led to the development of

a social metaphysic.

Sociology and Epistemology

For the most part , D u rkheim's socio logical epi stemology was a corollary

of his social metaphysic. But, as in the case of h i s theory of religion , one may

attempt to extricate other elements of the argument and situate them in the

context of his thought as a whole.

The sociology of religion had, in Durkheim's mind, an integral relation

to epistemological problems, since he believed that the first "collective repre

sentations" were religious in nature.

I f philosophy and the sciences were born of religion, it i s because rel igion itself began by taking the place of t h e sciences and p h i losophy. Bu t i t has been less frequently noticed that religion did not confine itself to enr iching the human mind , formed beforehand, with a certain number of ideas ; i t contr ibuted to forming the mind


itself. Men owe to religion not only a notable part of the content of their knowledge b u t also the form in which this knowledge has been elaborated. 2 1

In all societ ies , m oreover, the collective representations that formulated

elementary types of legit imation had a t least a quasi-rel igious character.

Indeed "co l lec tive representa t i o n , " in D u rkhei m's usage of the t e rm,

seemed to cover the gamut from shared verbal behavior based on deeply

rooted bel iefs, through elaborate "ideologies ," to more or less sophist icated

theoret ical reflections. I t primarily referred, however, to the shared model

or paradigm that fu nct ioned as a mode of explanat ion and ju s t ificat ion in

society, especially as the core of the conscience collective that he treated in

h i s moral phi losophy as Ia morale. I t comprised both cognitive and norma

tive elements. With the development of theoretical refl ection, and notably

with the emergence of sociology, cognitive and normative elements became

increasingly differentiated. But they were never entirely dis jo ined. In his

own sociology, for example , the higher-order paradigms of normal and

pathological processes embodied h is idea of the int imate relat ion of the

cognitive and the normative.

Du rkheim did n o t explici tly raise the problem of the relation b etween

epistemology and the sociology of knowledge, and the two of ten seemed

very close i n h i s thoughtY H e was avowedly preoccupied with a very ele

mentary kind of analysis, and he was even more palpably concerned with

the problem of validity. Indeed, perhaps the central i s sue treated in a course

he gave after the publ icat ion of The Elementary Forms (and subsequ ently

reconstructed in the book Pragmatisme et sociologie) was epistemological .

Here he o p p osed a classically "hard" concept ion of truth to the " logical

ut i l i tar ianism" of pragmatists who equated truth with pract ical success or

t h e sat isfying i l lus ion . And he did no t s imply equa te t ru th o r val idity wi th

social consensus . Rather he asserted the impersonal and compell ing nature

of truth , which imposed itself with rat ional convict ion. "Truth is a norm

for thought , j us t as the mora l idea l i s a norm for conduct ." 2 3 M oreover, he

fl atly re jected an invariant correlat ion of t ru th wi th happ iness .

Truth is often pa infu l . I t may disorganize thought and t rouble the serenity of the sp i r i t . When a man recognizes i t , he i s a t t imes obliged to transform his entire mental organiza t ion : this provokes a


crisis which leaves h im disconcerted and disabled. If, for example, in adulthood he suddenly realizes that his religious bel iefs lack sol id i ty, he may collapse mo rally. His intellectual and emotional life is paralyzed . . . . Thus it is far from the case that truth i s a lways attract ive and seductive. Quite of ten, i t resists us , opposes o u r d esires, and has a hard quality about i t . 2 4

I t i s significant that , i n his discussion of truth , Durkheim pointed to the role of what might be termed the deconversion experience and the way

the loss or deligit imation of religion might b e traumatic and disorienting. The "truth" of sociology itself involved working through this trauma and

simultaneously working out a new, critically "rational" basis for belief and

practice that would nonetheless function as a secularized displacement of

religion. Moreover, in D urkheimian sociology, the basic distinction b etween

normality and pathology provided a cr i t ical apparatus that involved the

problem of validi ty. In Marxian terms, one might say that a pathological

state was an al ienated empir ical reality t ha t gave r ise to ideo logy as a fo rm

of false consciousness. In The Rules, Durkheim formulated the conception

of false conscio usness in terms of Descar tes's not ion of p raenotiones and

Bacon's idea of idola. "As products of ordinary experience, their ob ject i s to

place our actions in harmony with the environing world. They are formed

by practice and for i t . Now a representation can play this role usefully while

being theoretically false . " 2 5

Unlike Marx, however, Durkheim d id not relate id eology as a form of

false consciousness t o class domination and exploitat ion. T h u s , h e d i d not

discuss t h e continuity between normative legitimation and cognition in the

distorted for m of collective misrepresentations that attempted to present

a pathological state as if i t was normal, e .g . , by construing the i n terest of

one group as the good of society as a whole. As a consequence, he fai led to

treat the function of ideo logy in the stabil ization of a patho logical social

order. This fai lure was especially significant in view of Marx's conception

of religion as a prominent fo rm of ideological distortion and mystifi cation

in an exploi tative society.

Certain things, however, seemed clear i n the development of Durkheim's

thought as a whole . The truth would b e unsettling and subversive i n a

"pathological" situation that had been ideologically accepted as legitimate.


But it would be essential to an obj ective analysis of that s ituation and to the

reconstruction of society on a "normal" (or desirable) basis. Rational means to

effect a passage from pathology to normality varied with historical conditions.

Durkheim found modern society t o be significantly p athological, but he did

not be lieve violent revolution t o b e necessary or desirable for the achievement of structural change. In a state of normality, moreover, the knowledge of the

truth would offer the most authentic basis for legitimation of the existing

order and the means to confi ne anomie to a marginal status. For in the normal

state, the normative and cognitive paradigms which constituted a coherent

worldview and i ntegrated society as a whole could be j ustly conceived as an

applied function of the truth. In all societies, this state would involve an opt imal combinat ion of community and reciprocity, and a relationship between

values accepted as sacred and average performance in daily living that did not

pass b eyond the l imits of "standard devi ation."

Durkheim's epistemological assumptions revealed the most profound

sense in which he was a philosophical conservative. In his mind, there ex

isted a comprehensive correspondence b etween the foundations of truth and knowledge in general and th e prevalence of order and so l idar i ty in society.

Essential to human existence was the institution of normative and interpretive

paradigms that made sense of shared experience and simultaneously provided the background against which to evaluate change.

These considerat ions make p o ss ib le an est imation of D urkhe im's re

lat ion to Bergson and the pragmat is ts . Early in his life, Durkheim was

cast in the role of the archenemy not only of Tarde b u t also of Bergson. His insistence on formal structures of obligation and, more broadly, his

Cartesianized, neo-Kantian brand of rationalism were often developed with

implic i t reference to Bergson as the modern exemplar of mystic ism and

antirational in tu i t ion i sm. In his later thought, h owever, Durkheim was

partially infl uenced by Bergson in two restricted but important ways. First ,

Durkheim recognized the role o f "collective effervescence" as an ambivalent elan vital t h a t was necessary i n t h e passage from path o logy to normali ty.

Second, he saw that in the normal s tate itself, communal spontanei ty was

to be reconciled with du ty, j ust as "col lective effervescence" retained its

relevance as a spiritual mil ieu fo r a generous and expansive rat ionalism. But

Durkheim always rej ected the ideological glorification of change, mobi l

ity, empir ica l fl uidi ty, individual transcendence, existential turmoi l , and


" b uzzing confusion" - i n brief, the symptoms o f anomie - as mystical

ends i n themselves. In a pathological state of soc iety, a pr imary funct ion

of rat ional change was to put a s top to uncontrolled, rampant , runaway

change. In a normal state, the value of change was related dialecti cally

to the predominance of order, and it had value not for its own sake but on ly insofar a s i t contr ibuted to a better social o rder which, in moderni ty,

required spaces for crit icism and contestat ion .

In The Elementary Forms of the Religious L�fe, Durkheim's manifest goal

was to define the elements of truth in religion.

In fact , it is an essential postu late of soc io logy tha t a h u man inst i tut ion cannot rest upon error and l i e s . O therwise i t cou ld not l a s t . If i t were not founded on the nature of things, i t would have encountered in things a resistance over which it could n o t have triumphed. So when we commence the study of primitive rel igions, i t i s with the conviction that they h o l d t o reality a n d express i t . This principle will be seen to recur t ime and again i n the course of the analyses and discussions which fo llow, and the reproach which we m ake against the schools fro m which we have separated o u rselves is that they have ignored i t . No doubt , when only the letter of the formulae is considered, these religious bel iefs and practices seem disconcerting, and one i s tempted to attribute them to some sort of deep-rooted aberration. But one must know how to go underneath the symbol to the reality which it represents and which gives it its true meaning.26

Within h i s own frame of reference, this conception of religion meant

that Durkheim was defining religion and its role i n terms of the normal state

of society. At times, however, he seemed to generalize his viewpoint so that

i t appl ied to all states of soc iety. At the very least , he placed his conception

of the truth of re l ig ion wi th i n the context of h i s opt i m i s t i c belief in an

emergent evolutionary straining toward normality in all society. Thus The Elementary Forms, taken as an isolated work, might be interpreted to have

either orthodox conservative or l iberal impl icat ions , although its conclusion

made it obvious that Durkheim conceived normality in m o dern society as

a goal of act ion. One basic reason for the imprecis ion of The Elementary

Forms in its treatment of concrete problems was the increasing impo rtance of abstract social metaphysic in Durkheim' s thought. I n the context of his


thought as a whole and i t s application to modern soci ety, however, he may

b e seen as employing h i s study of "primitive" religions to complete his idea

of the normal state and to derive a general conception of ends in basic

structural change.

The most significant and influential general feature of Durkhei m's approach was his interpretation of epistemology as the analysis, on the most

fundamental level, of the structural articulations of cultural experience (and

the i r relation to anomie) . The ob ject of epistemological analysis i n this

sense was to unearth the more or less related set of paradigms or categories

which, in varying combinations , informed symbolic experience expressed

in word and action. The intimate link between an epistemologically oriented soc io logy and p h i l osophy was man ifest. S o c i o l ogy would culminate

in what might b e termed ( in the express ion of Ernst Cassirer) a phi losophy

of symbol ic forms.

The promise in this conception of epistemology as the archaeology of

cultural experience was formulated by Marcel Mauss: "We must first of al l

draw up as complete as possible a catalogue of categories , beginning with those which mank ind i s known to have employed. I t wil l then be seen t h a t

there have been , and that there sti l l are, many dead moons, and others pale

or obscure, in the firmament of reason . " 2 7

This perspective en joined a correlation of epistemology wi th society and

culture . The attempt to l imi t epistemological inquiry to an investigation of

t h e mind of the isolated individual was a symptom of ideological distortion. From Durkhe im's point of view, solipsism and the prob lem of other minds

might be seen, not as components of an epistemological theory, but as

problems for epistemological investigation and p hilosophical crit icism. They

were symptomatic elements of the same pathological context of atomist ic

individualism that included ut i l i tarian ethics , economic self-interest , and

narrowly empiricist methodology. Isolation was the l imit ing case of the com

mon medium of all symbolic systems: interaction involving communication. Only sensation was confi ned to the individual organ i sm; but sym b o l i s m ,

and especially t h e concept , was an object o f communication.

A concept is not my concept . It i s common to m e and other men or, in any case, i t can b e communicated to them. But I cannot make a sensat ion pass from my consciousness into the consciousness o f


another ; i t i s narrowly bound u p wi th m y organism and my personali ty, and it cannot be detached from them . . . . By themselves individual consciousnesses are c losed to one another . They can com m u n i cate only by means of s igns w h i ch translate t h e i r i n ternal s tates . For the commerce which is established among them to b e able t o culminate i n communion, i . e . , i n a fu s ion o f all part icular sent iments i n a common sentiment , there must be s igns express ing these sentiments which themselves are fused in a sole and un ique resultant . I t i s the appearance of th i s resultant which enab le s indiv iduals to know that they are u n i ted and which makes t h e m conscious o f their m o r a l un i ty.28

This viewpoint gave special i m p ortance to the social ization pro cess i n

ep is temological investiga t ions . For , i n t h e fl ow of communicat ion that

made the individual a member of society, there would be transmitted in

operative form the b asic categories of experience and the anomie incon

s is tencies which typified social life. This d id not necessarily imply that

the individual was merely a p assive receptacle of tradit ional paradigms

and creative interact ion. But i t did mean that he or she could fo rm h i s

or her own ideas on ly against the b ackgro und o f common experience o r

common disor ientat ion. And those ideas w o u l d have t o b e addressed to

common problems and assume accessible form if they were to have other

than id i osyncratic or psychopathological meaning.

Crucial for D u rkheim was the basis in society of all major symb o l i c

systems and m o d e s of communicat ion. T h i s idea , wh ich raised problems

a t the intersection of epistemology and social psychology, which Durkheim

did not treat , applied to the natural sciences as well as to rel igion o r mo

rali ty.

In real i ty, science is something pre-eminently social , however great the role of individuals may be i n it . I t i s social b e cause i t s methods and techniques are the work of t rad i t ion , and they constrain the person with an author i ty comparable to that o f ru les of law o r morals . They are t ruly ins t i tut ions which apply t o t h o ught , j us t as j u ridical and pol i t ica l inst i tut ions are obligatory methods of act ion . In addit ion , sc ience is social b e cause it ut i l izes not ions which dominate al l thought and in which all of civi l izat ion is condensed: the categories .2 9


The role of neo-Kantianism i n Durkheim's thought was revealed in the

significance he attributed to the categories. "If the mind is a synthetic ex

pression of the world, the system of categories is a synthetic expression of the

human mind ." 3 0The categories, for Durkheim, were the fundamental logical

institutions of the human mind conceived as a sociocultural reality with an

organic base. By identifYing the category with his own notion of the collec

tive representation, he s imultaneously grounded it in culture and society and

expanded its range of application to encompass all forms of symbolic experi

ence. "De quelques formes primitives de classification" (Primitive Class�fication,

1 90 1 ) , written by Durkheim in collaboration with Mauss, had the virtue of

demonstrating, with some oversimplification, the systematic and meaningful

character of classifi catory systems in "primi tive" societies . Despite the ten

dentiousness of his own u l t imate scheme of interpretation, the fundamental

step Durkheim took was to open up to epistemological reflection the entire

gamut of human cultures and symbolically informed systems, including social

structure and religion.

Although the postulates of his own social metaphysic j eopardized his effort ,

Durkheim further intended his conception of epistemology to serve as a way

of overcoming the antinomy between, or at least of providing a compromise

formation l inking, empiricism and apriorism.

The rationalism which is immanent in a sociological theory of knowledge is an intermediary b etween empiricism and classical apriorism. For the first, the categories are p urely artificial constructions; for the second, they are, on the contrary, natural givens. For us, they are in a sense works of art, b u t of an art which imi rates nature with a perfection susceptible of growing without l imit . J l

The category, in other words, was nei ther a p u rely nominal is t ic labe l nor

the natural scaffolding of the m i n d . I t was s im ultaneously a sociocultural

given and the product of human activi ty - an historical monument b ui l t to

withstand the erosive pressure of anomie . On the whole, however, D urkheim

remained closer to the apriorist side of the classical antagonism, and h i s

social metaphysic revealed the extent to which he was unable to transcend

dualism through a more dialectical or dialogic m o de of thought . He was

possessed of an inordinate sense of the conceptual presence of categories.


This was indicated i n his specific interpretation of structural analysis and the

importance of the concept. 'To conceive a thing is simultaneously to grasp

more adequately its essential elements and to s i tuate it within a whole; for

each civil ization has i t s organized system of concepts which characterize i t .

Before this system of not ions , the individual m i n d is i n t h e s ame s i tuat ion as the Nous of Plato before the world of ldeas ."32

In The Elementary Forms, the problem of determining the essential const i tuents of rel igion joined that of comparing science to symbolic systems

prevalent i n "primi tive" societ ies . Yet in this respect Durkheim's argument

was almost entirely subordinated to his social metaphysic . As a preface to

the discussion of the metaphysical chapter of Durkheimism, it is interesting to c o m p are t h e a t tempt of Claude Levi-Strauss to address h i mself to

problems s imilar to those of Durkheim.

Although Levi-Strauss refuses to admit a phi losophical intent ion, his

book La Pensee sau vage ( The Savage Mind) might well be taken as a study

in epistemology. In this work, Levi-Strauss sought out a structure of the

mind that was pre-eminently characteristic of certain societ ies b ut which represented a permanent g iven, or at least an ever-present poss ibi l i ty, i n

human experience. T h u s the object of investigation was n o t the thought

of the savages but savage thought as a symbolic form or archetypical mode

of articulating experience. T h e English te rm "savage thought" ( a n d even

more so, "the savage m i n d , " with its resurrection of Lucien Levy-Bruhl and

his penchant for unbridgeable antipathies b e tween the primit ive and the

modern) obviously fai ls to capture the relevance and symbolic weight of the French express ion . La pensee sauvage refers ambiguously to culture (a

structure of the human mind) and to nature ( to a species of fl ower, the wild

pansy) . Thus it not only l i terally denotes, but metaphori cally expresses, the

type of comprehensive paradigm that correlates culture and nature .

Within Ia pensee sauvage, one may distinguish two dialect ically related

levels, or ( in the Hegelian sense) "moments." La pensee sauvage constitutes une theorie du sensible or a structure of percep t i o n , but i t operates s imul ta

neously on two levels: the literal and the metaphoric . Often its meticulous

classifl.cations of natural phenomena can be correlated with those of posit ive

sciences l ike b otany, which approach real ity o n the same strategic level of

perception. In all cases , i t manifests a close and sustained attention to natural

phenomena and processes that are open to sensory perception. Moreover,


Its technology, e .g . , in metal-working, reveals the product , not of chance

discovery, b ut of experimentation. In th i s sense, the "Neol i thic revolut ion , "

bringing the ar ts of civilization like agriculture, pottery, and weaving, which

sti l l remain as a foundat ion of modern culture , was an achievement of Ia pensee sauvage.

But observation, within the context of Ia penst!e sauvage, i s not separated

fro m other levels of experience to result in a pos i tiv i s t ic n o ti o n of nature .

Nor i s technology seen as an express ion of uni latera l d o m i n at i o n over

nature by humans ; it is rather a med ia to r between culture and nature . In

other words, b o th observat ion and applied knowledge are impl icated in

more encompass ing structures which place them within a broader scope of normative regu l a t i o n , i m aginat ive m u t u a l i ty, and emotional response .

"Enveloping terms, which confounded i n a sort of surreal i ty the o b j e cts

of percept ion and the emot ions they aroused , preceded analytic reduc

t ion in the str ict sense . " 3 3 Notions are "ensnared" in i mages l ike b irds

in quickl ime, and they imply an i n tr icate network of corre lat ions and

correspondences among var ious levels of exper ience . The u l t imate logical i n t e n t i o n of th i s mode of thought is cosm i c . A n d prom inent in the

a t t empt to class ify the e lements o f the known universe i n a meaningfu l

manner are correlat ions b etween socia l a n d natura l phenomena . "The

mythical system o f representat ions serves to establ i sh re lat ions of homol

ogy be tween natural condi t ions and soc i a l condi t ions . O r more exactly, i t

defines a law o f equ i valence among mean ingful contrasts which are s i tu

ated on several levels : geographical , meteorologica l , zoologica l , b o tanical , technical , economic , social , r i tua l , re l igious , ph i lo soph ica l . " 34

From this po int of v iew, the int imate re lat ions between rel igion and

magic within the context of Ia p enst!e sauvage b e co m e man ifest . They

represent complementary direct ions taken by the imaginat ive mutua l i ty

of h u m ans and nature .

If i t can i n a sense be sa id that re l ig ion cons i s t s o f a humanizat ion of natural laws and magic of a natura l iza t ion o f human act ions - the treatment of cer ta in human act ions as if they were an in tegral par t of physical determinism - this is no t to s ay tha t these are al ternatives or stages in an evoluti o n . The anthropomorphism of nature (of which rel igion consists) an d the phys i omorph i sm


of man (by which we have defined magic) const i tu te two components which are always given, and vary only in propor t ion . . . . Each impl ies the o ther. There is no rel igion wi thout magic , any more than there is magic without at least a trace of rel igion. The not ion of a supernature exists only fo r a h u manity which at t r ibutes supernatural powers t o i t se lf and i n return ascri b e s the powers of its superhumanity t o nature . 3 5

We have already ob served that for Levi-Strauss totemism i s not the global

institution invariably combining kinship and religion that i t was for Durkheim.

It is an instance of the general logical principle of differentiation and integratio n . With i n t he context of !a penseesau vage, totemism posits a metaphoric

homology between a binary opposit ion of natural species (the totems) and a

binary opposit ion of human groups. This ordering principle is avai lable for

a complex variety of uses in society. B u t i ts usage as a principle of kinship

may not coincide with religious bel ief, and vice versa. From Levi-Strauss's

viewpoint, the attempt to explain away facts by unfounded evolutionary

hypotheses has no relation to scientific theory. The theoretical problem, at a higher level of u n derstanding, is to discover the higher-order paradigms that

account for the actual correlations among aspects of cultural lif e or represent

possible variations of them.

For Levi-Strauss, all thought employs the same formal logical principles,

such as opposition and correlation. In this sense, no thought is "prelogical."

But significant differences do exist both between symbolic forms and be tween the i r actual prevalence i n different societ ies . I n t he pr incipa l fie lds of modern

life characterized b y technology and bureaucracy, Ia pensie sau vage i s rather

wilted; it flourishes largely in marginal areas, such as certain fo rms of art . The

level of concrete perception has diminished importance, and it i s difficult to

conceive of truly credible paradigms that integrate or at least relate the l iteral

and the metaphoric in shared experience. Positive science appears as a "domesticated" form of thought t ha t approaches real ity on a more soph isticated

strategic level - that of conceptual formulation and mathematical notation

- and it results in a more operational knowledge of nature. But the price i t

often pays i s fragmentation and the alienation ofhumans from more inclusive

structures of experience. Symbolism, in general, tends to become formally

rationalized and emotionally neutralized.


This br ief discuss ion o f Levi-Strauss's thought i s intended merely to

ind icate the areas of vital i n terest touched u p o n in Durkheim's idea of a

sociological epistemology. The problems that I have superfi cially treated did

receive some attention from Durkhe im, b u t his ideas remained disparate

and were given a semblance of coherence only through the medium of

his social meta physic.36

Yet what seem like gains in comparison with D u rkheim may also in

volve poss ib le losses. In a thinker l ike Levi-Strauss, one at t imes senses an

unresolved tension between human warmth and formalism, clarity and

obscurantist preciosity, a feeling for the i nterplay between the literal and the

metaphoric, and a somewhat technocratic fascination for the manipulat ion of an alytically reduced "logica l operators ." 3 7 Durkhei m's socia l m eta phys ic

was h i s surrogate fo r re l ig ious bel ief and his inspirat ion for social act ion.

Unfortunately, in confi ding in something as palpably ineffective as social

metaphysic , D u rkheim diss ipated both h i s m assive intell igence and his

genuine spir i tual intensity. From him one might have expected a more

convincing at tempt to forge a synthesis between u n coordinated elements of m o dern exper ience and the her i tage of devaluated symbol ic forms .

Social Afetaphysic

Like other comparable systems of the t ime - e . g . , those of Marx or Freud - Durkheim's social m e taphysic ult i mately conceived of in

terpretation in the form of reduct ionism. lt presented a truncated and

impoverished not ion of reality that i d entifi ed adequate analysis with the

sacrifi ce of t h e complex i ty and diversity o f human exper ience o n the

altar of a unilateral fixat ion . To a l l problems i n h is tory and phi losophy,

D u rkheim fe lt j ust ifi ed i n offering what came i n t ime to b e a p refab

ricated and mechanical "sociological" so lut ion whose very predictabi l i ty and fac i l e app l i cab i l i ty were i n d i ca t i o n s of s u p erfic ia l i t y and c i rcu lar i ty.

The operational upshot of D u rkheimian social metaphysic was a sociolo

gist ic methodology which recently has taken the form of radical social

constructivi s m . This in terpretive schema accounted for all symbolically

informed phenomena in terms of the contrast b e tween social reality (or

anti-essential ist social construct ion) and cultural "dress . " In o ther words,

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 26.3

human experience was interpreted as i f soc iety (often a vague concept i n

itself) o r some s p e cifi ed soc i a l d imension (gender, sexuali ty, race, class) was

the bas ic const i t utive reality and al l other aspects of culture were derivative

or secondary manifestat ions. A sociologist ic methodology was to be found

even in theorists who re jected other e lements of Durkheim's heritage, e .g . , the relative de-emphasis of soc ia l conflict and i t s fu nct ions . For example,

Edmund Leach fel t j ust ifi ed in p refacing h i s impor tant work, The Political Systems of Highland Burma, with the declarat ion:

My view here is tha t r i t u al act ion and bel ief are al ike to be unders tood as fo rms of sym bol i c s tatement a b o u t t h e soc ia l order . . . . Cul ture provides t h e for m , the "dress" of the soc ia l s i tua t ion . As far as I a m concerned, the cultural s i tua t ion is a given factor, i t i s a product and an accident of h i s tory. I do n o t know why Kachin women go hatless with b o b b e d hair b efo re they are marr ied, b u t assume a turban afterwards , any more than I know why English women p u t a ring on a part icular finger to denote the same change in soc ia l s ta tus ; a l l I am i n terested in is that in this Kachin context the assumption of a turban by a w o m a n does h ave this symbol ic s ignifi cance. I t i s a s tatement about the s ta tus o f the woman. 3 8

The l a s t ing ach ievement of Lev i -Strauss in anthropo logy w a s the awareness that symbol ic systems, espec ia l ly i n certa in soc ie t i e s , engaged

problems of mean ing and coherence ; t h a t the i r reduct ion to social factors

(or ut i l i t a r ian needs , economics , b i o l o gy, and so forth) might i t se lf be a

reB ection of modern ethnocentr i sm; and that the prob lem was, rather, the

re lat ionships among vari o u s levels of experience and s ignifying p ract ices .

But sociologism, social fu nctional ism, and radical socia l constructivism are th e operat i o n a l " ra t iona l izat ion" ( i n t h e Web e r i a n sense) of Durkhe i m's

thought , which at t imes consc ious ly employ the language of perspectives ,

interests , and arbitrary in i t ia l definit ions. Du rkheim's sociologism was par t

and parce l of a genuinely m e t aphysical v iew. Durkhe im not only re ta ined

the class ical commitment to truth and real ist ic defi ni t ion , b u t h is search

for the real ity of things was conveyed in an i n creasingly mystique- laden

fo rm of d i scours e which he used to reco u n t an e laborate myth of or igins

and an ideology of modern so ciety which had a d i s t inct ive ro le in his

own Third Republ ic .


In The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, the argument that religion

was the origin of culture culminated in the idea that society was the origin

and essence of religion. Since the fi rst ideas of humans were representations

of religious reali ty, society was consequently also the origin of the catego

ries. In The Elementary Forms, the piece of argument directly addressed to the identity of G o d and society was l itt le more than a form of pars pro toto

legerdemain fo llowed by a string of rhetorical questions:

[The totem] is the outward and vis ible form of what we have called the totemic principle or god. But i t is also the symbol of the determinate society called the clan. It is i t s flag; i t is the sign by which each clan distinguishes i tself from the others, the vis ible mark of its personali ty, a mark borne by everything which is a part of the clan under any title whatsoever, men, beasts, or things. So if it is at once the symb ol of the god and of the society, is that not because the god and the society are only one? How could the emblem of the group have been able to b ecome the figure of this quasi divinity if the group and the divinity were two distinct entit ies? The god of the clan, the totemic principle, can therefore be nothing else than the clan itself, personified and represented to the imagination under the visible form of the animal o r vegetable which serves as totem.39

Thus Durkheim felt ent i t led to conclude, not only that religi ous bel ief

and ritual had social functions, or even social aspects , b u t that they were

specifically, or sui generis, social in essential reality and origin. Of ritual ,

he wrote:

Everything leads us back to the same idea: i t i s that r i tuals are above all else the means by which the social group reaffi rms itself per i odi cally. From this , we may perhaps arrive a t a hypothetical reconstruction of the manner in which the totemic cult must primi tively have been born. Men who feel themselves united in part through bonds of b lood b ut sti l l more through a community of interests and traditions assemble and become conscious of their moral unity . . . . The moral effi cacy of ritual , which is real , led men to believe i n i t s physical effi cacy, which is i maginary . . . . T h e truly useful effects which ceremonies produce are l ike the experimental j ust ification of the elementary practices of which they are composed.40


The full sweep and nature of the argument in The Elementary Forms are

better understood if one sees it in the light o f Durkheim's preparatory articles

on related problems , especial ly his study of the incest taboo .4 1 Durkheim

began with the root assumption that social sol idarity and social structure were u l t imate real it ies and explanatory pr inc ip les . Continuity with his

earl ier thought was embodied in the bel ief that community was pr ior to

the structural differentiat ions which stemmed fro m it . Beginning with the

idea of a group of people who had some sense of their moral and social

community, Durkheim introduced the idea of "collective effervescence" as

a transit ional force that led to the genesis of rel igious cults . Collective ef

fervescence was in this sense a sacralizing, mana-like elan, which intensified the sense of communi ty unti l i t attained religious proportions and prope l led

humans from the s ta te of nature into that of cul ture and soci ety.

I n h i s art icle on the incest taboo , Dur kheim was even more specifi c

in his e laborat ion of a sociologist ic myth of origins. Seized by a n inten

s ifi ed sense of their own sol idarity, the group selected a totem to serve as

i ts emblem. Its unity was sol id ified by the myth of a common totemic

an cestor whose blood was im agined to Row in the ve ins of the c l a n . The

associat ion b etween the imaginary mythical b lood of the communal clan

and the very real menstrual b l o o d of its female members presumably pro

voked horror at the idea of c lan endogamy. Thus , although totemism was

in fact a restricted phenomenon and the proh ib i t ion of incest a universal

phenomenon, the myth of or igins , which led from soc ia l sol idar i ty to

totemism, caused Durkheim to b e lieve that incest derived from a spec ific totemic taboo. Evolutionary ideas , i n th is way, took on a fully mythical

cast . Indeed Durkheim's d i fficulty with problems of gender and sexuality

was here manifest in a part icu larly bewildering, quest ion-b egging form .

H e rel ied on a logic (or non-logic) of associat ion to l ink the metaphor ic

blood mythical ly shared by the c lan and the rea l menstrual blood of i t s

women members i n order to provide a pseudo-explanation for the pro

h ib i t i on of incest . Women, whom Durkheim descr ibed as "a theater of

bloody manifestat ions , " were s ingled out , even scapegoated, as a point of

spreading contagion that provoked r itual anxiety or phobia in the men of

the clan - a sacred horror which somehow produced the incest t aboo .

The profound i l log ic of th i s seeming logic of associat ion not only derived

the universal (the incest taboo) fro m the particular or at best the typical

26 6 J:rnile Durkheirn: Sociologist and Philosopher

( totemism) ; i t further p articularized or localized the "origin" of the universal

in the gendered, sexed "nature" or state of women.

Durkheim confronted the obvious problem of why, on his view, there was

not a spread of ritual horror, via menstruat ion, to all women, eventuating

in a taboo, or at least a sense of ritual danger and disgust, not only with respect to incest b u t t o all (hetero )sexual relations. Appealing, in circular

fashion, to evolutionary or developmental assumptions, he "explained" that

this broader contagion did indeed occur b u t only at a later stage, that is , after

the decline of totemic inst i tutions and in weakened or di luted form. Given

the almost transparent logical difficulties in his account, one is tempted to

conclude that Durkheim manhandled his insights concerning sexuali ty, the sacred, and taboo by i m p licit ly begi n n i n g with a prejudicial postulat ion or

experience of ritual horror at contamination through the menstrual blood of

women that he projectively employed to elaborate an implausible "theory"

of the origin of the incest taboo - a "theory" which was little more than

a specious secondary revision. Still , his views had significant symptomatic

value insofar as they were not idiosyncratic to him b u t ind icative of more prevalent anx ieties and q u asi-ritual fears of contaminat ion that ch aracterized

men at the t ime or even in some more general b u t indeterminate manner

- anxieties and fears that might, in the context of the ambivalence of the

sacred, be combined with a sense of mystery and attraction/repulsion sur

rounding sexual ity. They also had the mer i t of making explicit and o p ening

to crit ical scrutiny at least one variant of "irrational" response to sexuality

that could not b e reduced to matters of hygiene, medicalized precaution, or indeed any form of instrumental rationali ty. Durkheim sensed the ways

in which sex could n o t be made entirely "safe" in that it was imp l icated i n

t h e dialect ic of p u ri ty and danger w i th t i e s t o the sacred, the ritualist ic , and

the strangely disconcerting. Whatever one may think of his spec ific way of

theorizing this complex of problems, he put i t on the agenda of social and

cultural thought in a manner that later thinkers, such as Georges Batai l le , Rene Gi rard, Michel Foucault , and Ju l i a Kristeva, would take up i n the ir

own more o r less problematic ways.

Apparent in Durkheim's social metaphysic of religion was the extent to

which his argument depended on modern presupposit ions which in fact

were typical of one i m p ortant dimension of his thought as a whole . From the very outset , Durkheim analytically dissociated intel l igible reality into


a realm of material nature and an autonomous realm of social facts . H e

conceived this realm o f social facts i n "hyperspir itual" terms and i dentifi ed

it increasingly with the ob jeer of ideal i s t ic phi losophy. In the extremely

dual ist ic , Cartesianized neo-Kantian tendency of Durkheim's thought, the

human being was homo duplex - a composite of a body and an ideal o r

spir i tual social self.

D u rk h e i m d i d n o t devote suffi c ient a t tent i O n to the interact ions between body and mind , even when they could be formulated l i terally,

e .g . , genetically o r psychosomati cally. Poss ible metaphor ic relat ions often

seemed to be completely beyond h i s ken. Indeed h i s tendency to promote

a tense , at t imes ambivalent dua l i ty between interacting fo rces into a b i nar i s t i c m i n d-body (or soc iety- individual ) dua l i sm i n h ib i ted h i s a b i l ity

to e laborate a not ion of the socio-symbolic dimensions of the body i tself.

And his analysis of the symbolic effi cacy of r i tual neglected to consider the

very real effects of re l ig ion and magic on the organic and psychological

processes of the be l i ever.

Epistemologi cally, D u rkhei m's dual i s t ic concept ion of human nature

led h i m to restrict his atte n t i o n to sensat ion , which he correlated with

the " individual" b o dy, and the concept , which he correlated with the spe

cifically, hyper-spir i tualist ically social . This frame of reference was fully

developed i n h is 1 898 article , " Indiv idual Representations and Collective

Representati ons . " The " i ndividual representation" was the sensat ion. The

"collective representation" was the concept . Durkheim devoted n o attention

in his understanding of ep is temology to percept ion , imagination, emot ion, personal uniqueness , and the re lat ion of thought t o act ion. This omiss ion

created a logical gap between his epistemological presuppos i t ions and such

of h i s methodological notions as "social morphology" (which i n general was

comparable to the anthropological not ion of "material culture") , sentiment,

anomie, the role of the indiv idual in culture, and the relation of theory

and practice in the passage from pathology to normal i ty. I t also accounted for h i s cur ious concept ion of eco n o m i cs as the study of t h e i ndividual a n d

t h e material - a n o t i o n t h a t d id l i tt le just ice t o t h e problem o f economic

inst i tut ions . In br i ef, the extremely dual i s t ic assumptions o f h is soc ia l

metaphys ic and i t s epi stemological corollaries subordinated a tensely and

openly dialectical (or dialogic) concept ion of experience to a r ig id idea of

dis junctive ant inomies or b inary oppos i t ions .


When Durkheim came to devote special a t tention to the sacred, he was faced wi th a prob lem of classifi cation created by t h e presupposit ions of one element of his thought. He solved it by placing the sacred i n the category of the specifi cally social and interpreting its various manifestat ions as "superpositions" of the social and the "hyperspir i tual ." In his "Le Dua l i sme de I a na ture h u m a i n e et ses cond i t i ons sociales" ( 1 9 1 4) , which

he first presented as a speech to his spir i tual is t ic , neo-Kantian peer group at the Societe Frans:aise d e Phi losophie , Durkheim argued that the basic contr ibut ion of The Elementary Forms was to show that the sociology of religion provided confi rmation for the traditional idea of a dualism b etween body and spir i t in man. In other words, D urkheim asserted that his inter

pretat ion of rel igion revealed that the mind-body dual ism was an essential characteristic of human nature - a viewpoint that seems to raise the specific (if not the p athological) to the universal. Thus Durkheim's primary line of development in an increasingly ideal is t ic direction was to be found in h i s growing reliance on antinomies or b inary opposi t ions - a reliance which culminated i n the idea of homo duplex. He conceived of the passage from nature to culture as the spiritual arousal of the inert or quiescent grou p , l ike the conglomerate body of some incredible Frankenstein monster, through the electric charge of"collective effervescence" which mysteriously generated t h e "hypersp ir i tua l" ideals of c iv i l i zat i o n .

B u t b o t h i n h i s emphasis o n sacred community a n d i n h i s soc iological (or sociologist ic) reformulat ion of the idea of homo duplex, D urkheim's thought represented a reaction agai nst extreme variants of secularization in modern culture . M etaphors and imagination, excluded from other spheres of experience, Hooded Durkheim's idea of the social thro ugh the n arrow channel left open by his conceptualist ic and sp i r i tual ist ic tendencies . With increasing abandon, Durkheim gave himself, not to developing concrete images of social life, b u t to composing allegories in the form of abstract conceptual prose poems about the true nature of soci ety. The sacred was society expressed metaphorically. Incarnation found its reality in the process of social ization. Roles assumed the quality of sanctified callings. And t h e educator had a truly priest-like fun ct ion as the i ntermediary between society and its members .

The b eliever bows down before God b e cause i t i s from God that he b elieves h e receives his being, and part icular ly his mental being,


his soul . We have the same reasons to fee l this sentiment for the collectivi tyY

What indeed is discipline if not society conceived as what commands us, dictates orders, and gives us laws? And in the second element of morality - the attachment to a group - i t i s again society that we fi nd, b u t conceived this time as a good and desirable thing, an end which attracts us , an ideal to be realized. In the former sense, i t appears to us as an authority which contains us, fixes limits which resist our infringements, and b efore which we bow with religious respect; i n the latter sense , i t i s a friendly and protecting power, a nursing mother, from whom we receive the principal part of our intellectual and m oral substance and toward whom our wills are turned in an elan of grati tude and love. In one case , i t is l ike the j ealous and fearful god, the severe legislator, who does not permit his orders to be transgressed; in the other, i t is the divinity who cares for us and for whom the bel iever sacrifices himself with j oy.

What constitutes the authority which colors ro readily the word of the priest is the elevated idea he has of his mission; for he speaks in the name of a god in which he be lieves and toward which he feels closer than the crowd of the profane. The lay teacher can and must have something of th i s sent iment . He too is the organ of a great moral person which transcends him; this is society. Just as t he priest is the interpreter of his god, so the teacher is the interpreter of the great moral ideas of his t ime and country.43

In short, society has "all that it takes [tout ce qu'il fout]" to inspire the idea of the sacre d , "because i t i s to its members what a god is to b elievers."44 Durkheim perceived social metaphysics as the symbolic groundwork for a conception of social ethics that allowed for sentiment and emotion. Indeed the much-heralded "death of G od" was bu t a prelude to t h e b i rth of Society.

One will notice the analogy between this line of reasoning and that by which Kant demonstrates God. Kant postulates God because, without this hypothesis , m orality is unintelligible. We postulate a society specifi cally dist inct from individuals b ecause otherwise morality i s without an object and duty without an anchor point . . . . Between God and society one must choose . . . . I may add that, from my point of view, this choice leaves me indifferent, because I see in divinity only society transfi gured and conceived symbol ically.45


So, one must choose, but the choice is a non-choice in that G o d is the

symbol of Society. (Heads I win; tails you lose.) Still , there is an important

sense in which, from beginning to end, morality constituted the center of

Durkheim's thought. And he believed that his substantively rational conception

of morality was not undermined but fortified and completed by his social

philosophy. Some quasi-religious basis was necessary for all morality and social

solidarity. But the beliefs that justified religion had increasingly lost credibility

in the modern world. For Durkheim, sociology itself had the task of providing

a theoretical foundation for religion - a foundation that would simultaneously

serve as its own ultimate legitimation. Hence Durkheim made the almost Thomis

t ic effort to reconcile reason and faith, but in a secularized fashion adapted to the needs of modern society.

The vision of a society based upon truth and j u st ice and able to reconcile

reason and the ritual att itude of sacred respect was vital to Durkheim's idea

of structural reform i n modern soci ety. It was a lso important for h i s idea

of the spec ia l miss ion of sociology i n his own France. Soc ial myst ique was

intended as a means of strengthening resolve and inspir ing action for the

achievement and maintenance of the normal society. In The Elem entary

Forms, Du rkhei m's concluding call for a revival of the sp ir i t and a renewal

of the work of the French Revo lution gave vibrant proof that his last rna jor

work was conceived against the background of the need for social action to

effect a passage fro m pathology to normality in modern society.

If we find i t difficult to imagine what the feasts and ceremonies of the fu ture could consist in, this is because we are going through a stage of transition and m o ral mediocri ty. The great things of the past which filled our fathers with enthusiasm do not excite the same ardor in us, either because they have passed into common usage to such an extent that we are unconscious of them, or else because they no longer answer our present aspirations . . . . In a word, the old gods are growing old or are already dead, and others are not yet born. This is what made vain the attempt of Comte to organize a religion with old historical memories artificially revived. I t is from life itself and not from the dead past that a living cult can emerge. But this state of incertitude and confused agitation cannot last forever. A day will come when our societies will know again those hours of creative effervescence in which new ideals will surge up and new formulas will crystallize to serve for a while as a

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 27 I

guide to humanity. Once these hours have been experienced, men will spontaneously fed the need to keep their memory alive through feasts which periodically reproduce their creations. We have already seen how the French Revolut ion established a whole cycle of holi days to keep the principles with which it was inspired in a state of perpetual youth. If this inst i tut ion qu ickly fell away, i t was because the revolutionary fai th lasted b u t a moment , and disappointment and discouragement rapidly succeeded the first moments of enthusiasm. Although the work miscarried, i t enables us to imagine what might have happened in other condit ions ; and everything leads us to believe tha t it will be taken up again sooner or later.46

Since D urkheim's death, quasi-religious ideologies have indeed often be

come social and political in nature. And his social metaphysic (which at least

had the virtue of being explicit and manifestly open to question) has been

displaced into perhaps even more deceptive, prevalent, and frequently unques

tioned forms of radical social constru ctivism through which all meaning and

value are assumed to be sui generis social in nature and origin. Unfortunately,

l i tt le i n modern history has realized D urkheim's generous hope for a solidar

istic society based on reason and j ustice. D urkheim died before his optimism

could be severely tested by rna jor contemporary events. On a more theoreti

cal level, however, he at times seemed to sense the tenuous basis of a social

metaphysic which relied on questionable binaries and accepted the breakdown

of comprehensive normative and cogni tive paradigms as the ne plus ultra of

modern experience. At these times, he offered intimations of an integration of

the natural sciences, technology, and social structure into grippi ngly inclusive

structures that extended the gift of solidarity to all of existence. Before his

neo-Kantian colleagues at the Societe Fran�aise de Philosophie , he observed:

"Nothing tells us that nature will not take up in the future, in a new form, the moral quality which it has lost. Perhaps a t i m e will come when we will fi n d it

morally blameworthy to perform any unnecessary destruction."47

The one basic aspect of symbolic systems i n certain societies that The

Elementary Forms p laced in sharp relief was the importance of the microcosm

macrocosm schema in the comprehensive formulation of shared experience.

Social metaphysic induced Durkheim to perceive the cosmic archetype as a

generalized projection of the specifically social inst i tut ion . But a m inor theme

of The Elementar_y Forms was the manner in which the social microcosm might,


however self-questioningly, b e integrated into cosmic paradigms which allowed

for an intelligible articulation of other aspects ofboth literal and metaphoric

perspectives on reali ty. Whether one reads The Elementary Forms as the nar

row and somewhat mystified basis for an ideo logy of the speci fically social

and the exclusively moral or as a problematic intimation of some broader

vision of culture in the most comprehensive sense, one may conclude that

in it Durkheim became the Plato of the Australian b lackfellows in order to

emerge as the Angelic Doctor of consensual society.

Notes

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 27.3

1 . Robert Lowie, Primitive Religion (f rst pub. 1 924; New York: Universal Press, 1 95 2 ) , p. 1 57 .

2 . Talcott Parsons, The Structure of Social Action (first pub. 1 937 ; Glencoe, I l l . : Free Press , 1 949) , p. 4 1 1 . Later Parsons made a similar evaluation: "Anthropological research has enormously enriched our knowledge in this field, though Durkheim's codification and analysis of Australian totemism remains perhaps the most eminent single monographic contribution, because it is both a great monograph and much more than that" (In trod. to Max Weber's The Sociology ofReligion [Boston: Beacon Press, 1 96 3 ] , p . xxvi i ) . See also On Durkheim's Elementary Forms of the Religious L{(e, ed. N . J . Allen, W. S. F. Pickering, and W. Watts Miller (London: Routledge, 1 9 98) .

3 . I I ( 1 897- 1 898 ) ; i n Kurt Woolf, ed . , Essays o n Sociology and Philosophy (first pub. 1 960 ; New York: Harper & Row, 1 964) , pp. 350-3 5 1 .

4 . Les Formes elimentaires de la vie religieuse (4th ed. ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 9 60) , p. 1 1 .

5 . " D e L a Definition d u phenomene religi eux," Annie sociologique, I I ( 1 897-1 8 98 ) , 1 3 .

G . Formes ilimentaires de la vie religieuse, pp. 35-36 . 7 . Ibid. , p . 6 5 . 8 . Henri Hubert and Marcel Mauss, "Esquisse d'une theorie generale d e Ia

magie ," Annie sociologique, VII ( 1 9 0 1 - 1 902) ; reprinted in Marcel Mauss, Sociologie et anthropologie (first pub. 1 950 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 98 8 ) , pp. 3- 1 4 1 .

9 . Formes ilimentaires de !a vie religieuse, pp. 6 1 - 62. 10 . Lerons de sociologie (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 950 ) , p . 222. 1 1 . Henri Hubert and Marcel Mauss, "Essai sur Ia nature et la fonction du sac

rif ce," Annie sociologique, II ( 1 897 - 1 8 9 8 ) ; in Mauss, Oeuvres, I: Les Fonctions sociales du sacri, ed. Victor Karady (Paris: Les Editions du Minuit, 1 968 ) , pp . 1 93-30 1 . See also Roger Caillois, L'Homme e t le sacri (Paris: Gallimard, 1 9 5 0 ) , and Mircea Eliade, The Sacred and the Profane (frst pub. 1 957 ; New York: Harper & Row, 1 9 6 1 ) . Eliade's other works, especially his Cosmos and History (first pub. 1 954 ; New York: Harper & Row, 1 959 ) , are important in this respect. Equally relevant are the works of Rene Girard, especially Violence and the Sacred, trans. Patrick Gregory (frst pub. 1 972 ; Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1 979) and Things Hiddm Since the Foundation of the World, trans. Stephen Bann and Michael Metteer (first pub. 1 97 8 ; Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1 9 89) .


1 2 . formes elbnmtaires de Ia vie religieuse, p. 1 1 4 . 1 3 . Ibid. , p . 97. 1 4 . London: Macmillan, 1 899 . This work was reviewed in detail by Durkheim

(in its political and social aspects) and Mauss (in its religious aspects) in Annee sociologique, 1 1 1 ( 1 898 - 1 899) , 330-336 , 205-2 1 5 .

1 5 . I l l ( 1 8 9 8 - 1 899) , p . 2 1 5 . 1 6. fu Durkheim put it : "It is not our intention to retrace all the speculations into

which religious thought, even of the Australians alone, has entered. What we wish to reach are the elementary notions at the basis of religion; but there is no need to follow them through all the developments, sometimes very intricate, which mythological imagination has given them since primitive times. We shall make use of myths when they enable us to understand these fundamental notions, but we shall not make mythology itself the object of our study. Moreover, insofar as mythology is a work of art, it does not fall within the j urisdiction of the science of religions alone. Also, the mental processes which underlie it are too complex to be studied indirectly and tangentially. It constitutes a difficult problem which must be treated in itself, for itself, and with a method peculiar to itself" (Formes elernmtaires de Ia vie religieuse, pp. 1 4 1 - 1 42) .

1 7 . Ibid. , p. 596 . 1 8 . One aspect o f ritual which Durkheim's own devotion to Ia vie serieuse pre

vented him from treating adequately was its tolerance of comic relief. He gave little attention to rituals which included buffoonery and even obscene raillery or which inverted established principles of moral sobriety, dignity, authority, and hierarchy. Yet these aspects of ritual, which provided controlled and limited o utlets for immoral, vulgar, subversive, and at times unconscious desires, might function both to test and to validate the solidity of norms and institutions in the rest of social l ife . They also indicated ways in which religion went beyond moral notions of good and evil. Here the work of Bakhtin may be seen as providing a vital supplement to Durkheim's thought. On Bakhtin, see my Rethinking Intellectual History: Texts, Contexts, Language ( Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1 983 ) , chap. 9 .

1 9 . Quoted in Formes elbnentaires de la vie religieuse, pp. 277-278 . In his introduction to Sociologie et anthropologie, by :vlarcel :vlauss (firs t pub . 1 950 ; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 96 8 ) , Claude Levi-Strauss gave an extremely ope rational and rather demystified interpretation of mana as a concept similar to what linguists term the "point zero" of communication . I n other words, mana would b e a place-holding o r filler concept that indicated a blank space in communication that required further specification for meaning to be imparted. In this sense, mana would be similar to the French espece de true ("something or other") . This interpretation is a good example

Chapter 6 The Sacred and Society 27 5

of the excessively operational side of Levi-Strauss and of h is tendency to stress similarities among "primitive" and modern societies, of ten at the price of reducing things to their lowest common denominator. In the mystiquefi lied interpretation ofDurkheim, on the contrary, mana came close to being the "point infinity" of communication. An interpretation by R. Godfrey Lienhardt comes closer to Durkheim's sense of the term: "Vzrtus, prestige, authority, good fortune, influence, sanctity, luck, are all words which, under certain conditions, give something near the meaning .... Mana sometimes means a more than natural virtue or power attaching to some person or thing, different from and independent of the ordinary naturalconditions of either .... I once had a tame pig which, before heavy rain, would always cut extraordinary capers and squeak and run like mad .... All the Maori said that it was a pig possessed of mana: it had more than natural powers and could foretell rain. The mana of a priest ... is proved by the truth of his pred ctions .... Mana in another sense is the accompaniment of power but not the power itself .... This is the chiefs mana .... The warrior's mana is just a little something more than good fortune" ("Religion," in H. Shapiro, ed., Man, Culture, and Society [first pub. 1956; New York: Oxf ord University Press, 1960], p. 316). Weber's notion of charisma was similar to mana insofar as the latter received expression in an exceptional individual. One might also compare mana to Walter Benjamin's notion of aura.

20. Formes elbnentaires de Ia vie religieuse, pp. 284-285.

21. Ibid., p. 12.

22. For an attempt to formulate the relationship between epistemology and the sociology of knowledge, se Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann, The Social Construction of Reality (Garden City, N . Y .: Doubleday, 1966).

23. Pragmatisme et sociologie (Paris; Librairie Philosophique J. Vrin, 1955), p. 197.

24. Ibid., p. 155. While radical social constructivism may be seen in certain ways as the extreme, operationalized analogue of Durkheim's soc al metaphys c, the latter harbored traditional elements, restraints, and ambivalences that might have fruitful dimensions and be open to formulations in other terms. Thus, within the context of his social metaphysic, Durkheim retained an emphasis upon the role of truth in his conception of things. "If society is a specific reality, it is not an empire within an empire. It is a part of nature, and indeed its highest manifestation. Now it is impossible that nature should differ radically from case to case in regard to what is most essential. The fundamental relations that exist among things- those which it is precisely the function of the categories to express- cannot be essentially dissimilar in the dif ferent realms. I f ... they are more clearly disengaged in the social

276 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist and Philosoplm·

world, it is nevertheless impossible that they should not be found elsewhere , though in more disguised forms" (Formes elbnmtaires de Ia vie religieuse, p p . 25 -26 ) . As a defense of the universal applicability a n d truth of categories that were presumed to be specifically social in origin, this piece of argument was unfortunately about as cogent as the idea that a photographer takes good photographs because he is himself photogenic. Within the context of Durkheim's social metaphysic, however, the problem was similar to the theological question about whether something is true because it comes from God or whether God created i t because i t i s true.

2 5 . Les Regles de Ia methode sociologique ( 1 5th ed.; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1 963 ) , p. 1 6 . Compare Karl �annheim's conception of ideology as false consciousness: "The concept 'ideology' reflects the one discovery which emerged from political conflict, namely, that ruling groups can in their thinking become so intensively interest-bound to a s i tuation that they are simply no longer able to see certain facts which would undermine their sense of domination. There is implicit in the word 'ideology' the insight that i n certain situations the collective unconscious of certain groups obscures the real condition of society both to itself and to others and thereby stabilizes it" (ideology and Utopia [New Yo rk: Harcourt, Brace 1 93 6 ] , p. 40) . Robert Paul Wolff provides this pertinent gloss: " Ideology is thus self-serving in two senses. First, and most s imply, i t is the refusal to recognize unpleasant facts which might require a less flattering evaluation of a policy or institution or which might undermine one's claim to a right of domination. For example, slave owners in the antebellum South refused to acknowledge that the slaves themselves were unhappy. The implication was that if they were, slavery would be harder to j ust ifY. Secondly, ideological thinking is a denial of unsettling or revo lutionary factors in society on the principle of the selfconfirming prophecy that the more stable everyone believes the situation to be, the more stable it actually becomes" ( "Beyond Tolerance," in A Critique ofPure Tolerance [Boston: Beacon Press, 1 965 1 , pp. 39-40) . See also the more in tricate, Lacanian notion of ideology in Slavoj Zizek, The Sublime Object of ideology (London: Verso, 1 989) .

2 6 . formes elirnmtaires de Ia vie religieuse, p. 3 . 2 7 . "Psychologie e t sociologie: Extrait de Ia conclusion d u debar," in Sociologie

et anthropologie, p. 309 . 28 . Formes elirnmtaires de Ia vie religieuse, pp . 6 1 9, 329 . 2 9 . Review of Wilhelm Jerusalem's "Soziologie des Erkennis," in Annie soci

ologique, XI ( 1 906- 1 909) , 44. 3 0 . "Sociologie religieuse et theorie de Ia connaissance," Revue de rnitaphysique

et de morale, XVII ( 1 909) , 757 .


3 1 . formes elbnentaires de fa vie religieuse, p. 26 , n. 2 . 32 . Ibid. , p . 622 . 3 3 . Claude Levi-Strauss, Le Tothnisme aujourd'hui (Paris: Presses Universitaires

de France, 1 9 62) , p. 1 46 . 3 4 . Claude Levi-Strauss, La Pensee sauvage (Paris: Pion, 1 962 ) , p . 1 2 3 . I n contrast

to Levi-Strauss, Pierre Bourdieu is often closer to Durkheim's sociologism as an ultimate explanatory gesture. As a consequence, he provides only limited insight into the specific work and play of cultural forms, especially works of art and literature. In The Rules of Art: Genesis and Structure of the Literary Field (trans. Susan Emanuel; first pub. 1 992; Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1 995 ) , he even puts forth the sociologistic fantasy of producing a so ciological account of the insertion of the artifact in the field that, in its thoroughness, would furnish a generative formula reproducing the artistic object in another (sociological) register, thereby resulting in a kind of sociological clone that would "explain , " or even render redundant, the literary artifact. Still, Bourdieu provides valuable inquiries into the broader field or context of cultural artifacts, and the relation between field and artifact may be understood differently than Bourdieu allows.

3 5 . Ibid. , pp. 292-293. 36. Durkheim recognized the possibility of a symbolic logic that focused upon

the common formal principles of all thought. (See Les Regles de fa methode sociologique, p . xvii i . ) But, as early as The Division of Labor and The Rules, he asserted the particular importance of concrete and informed observation in symbolic systems that were prominent in "primitive" societies. (See Les Regles, p. 1 5 , and De La Division du travail social, 7th ed., p. 275 . ) At times he recognized the existence of correlations between society and nature in the symbolism of these societies. In The Elemmtary Forms itself, he observed that the "confusions" in "primitive" thought did not stem from an animistic, anthropomorphic instinct, which immoderately extended features of humanity to all of nature: "Primitive men . . . have not conceived the world in their own image any more than they have conceived themselves in the world's image: they have done both at the same time. Into the idea they have formed of things, they have undoubtedly made human elements enter; but into the idea they have fo rmed of themselves, they have in t roduced elements coming from things" (/_es formes elbnmtaires de la vie religieuse, p. 337 ) . See also De La Division du travail social, p. 273, and Formes elbnentaires, p. 320. Durkheim apparently d id not sense the contradiction between these ideas and his own social metaphysic, which interpreted religious symbols and the categories as derivative projections or "superpositions" of the specifically social. Yet he was always clear about the systematic c.1uality of thought in

278 Emile Durkheim· Sociologist and Philosopher

"primitive" societies. (See his and Marcel Mauss's Primitive Classification [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1963], pp. 77-78, 81, a translation of "De quelques fo rmes primitives de classification," Ann!e sociologique, VI

[ 190 1-1902].) With some inconsistency in his formulations, Durkheim also saw the integration of cognition, practice, imagination, and emotion in comprehensive forms of symbolism. (See, for example, Pragmatisme et sociologie, p. 161; Primitive Classification, p. 85-86; and De La Division du travail social, p. 69 . ) The notion of a comprehensive ordering or codification of experience in certain symbolic systems was an important element of his idea of a "primitivenebula,"which is treated in another context in Chapter 3, above. Moreover, Durkheim rejected Levy-Bruhl's notion of the "prelogical" character of primitive thought. For Durkheim, there was no gap between "primitive" and modern thought or between the logic of relig ous thought and that of scientific thought. The contents or terms employed might differ, but the mental processes were essentially the same. 'The explanations of contemporary science are surer of being more objective because they are more methodical and because they rest on more carefully controlled observations, but they do not diffa in nature from those which satisfy primitive thought" (F ormes!lbnentaires, pp. 340-341). Finally, Durkheim conceived the difference between the experimentalism and theoretical falsifiability of scientific propositions, on the one hand, and the symbolic necessity and "impermeability to experience" (or circularity) of myth and ritual, on the other, not in strictly logical, but in psycholog cal terms. Between the commitment to a ritual and the unwillingness to abandon a well-tested scientific theory in the face of initial counterevidence, there was, for him, only a difference of degree (see Formes !lbnentaires, pp.515-516).

37. Compare the criticism Edmund Leach has made of Levi-Strauss: "He fails to allow for the fuct that, whereas the symbols used by mathematicians are emotionally neutral -ix is not more exciting than x just because i is an imag nary number -the concrete symbols used in primitive thought are heavily loaded with taboo valuations. Consequently psychological factors such as 'evasion' and 'repression' tend to confuse thelogicalsymmetries" (Nezu .Wrk Review of Books, IX [Oct. 12, 1967], 8). Por a discussion of"poststructural" figures, notably Michd Poucault and Jacques Derrida, see my History and Reading: Tocqueville, F'oucault, F'rench Studies (Toronto: University ofToronto Press, 2 0 0 0).

38. Boston: Beacon Press, 1964 (first pub. 1954), pp. 14, 16. Leach changed his position, largely under the inA uence of Levi-Strauss. A. R. RadcliffeBrown, who is himself largely responsible for the influence of Durkheim in Anglo-American social anthropology, nonetheless criticized Durkheim's


theory o f religion in these terms: " I n every human society there inevitably exist two different and in a certain sense conflicting conceptions of nature. One of them, the naturalistic, is implicit everywhere in technology, and i n o u r twentieth century European culture, with its great development of control over natural phenomena, has become explicit and preponderant in our thought. The other, which might be called the mythological or spiritualistic conception, is implicit in myth and in religion, and often becomes explicit in philosophy" (Structure and Function in Primitive Society [London: Cohen & West, I 9 5 2 ] , p. I 30 ) . As indicated earlier, radical social constructivism of various sorts (including discursive constructivism) has recently become important, and its relation to Durkheim's social metaphysic (or sociologism in general) is typically not noticed. One finds it at times in the influential work of Frank Ankersmit, Judith Butler, Joan Scott, and Hayden White. It has the value of critically reversing conventional essentialism and bringing to the foreground factors (such as performativity or gendered presuppositions) obscured in conservative epistemologies ( including Durkheim's) . But to the extent it remains within a framework of reversal, it does not provide the basis for a more thoroughgoing critique and rearticulation of assumptions. On these issues, see my Writing HistorY> Writing Trauma (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2 00 I ) .

39 . Formes elbnentaires de Ia vie religieuse, p . 236 . 4 0 . Ibid. , pp. 553 , 5 I 3 . 4 I . "La Prohibition de l ' inceste et ses origines," A n nee sociologique, I ( I 896- I 897) ,

I -70 ; trans. Edward Sagarin, Incest: The Origins and the Development of the Incest Taboo (New York: Lyle Stuart, I 963) . Judith Surkis discusses this article and its implications in her Cornell University dissertation, "Secularization and Sexuality in Third Republic France, " chap. 4. I am indebted to her analysis for certain ideas expressed in the next two paragraphs .

42 . Sociologie et philosophie (first pub . I 924; Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, I 963 ) , p. I 08 .

43 . !;Education morale (first pub . 1 934; Pari s : Presses Universitaires de France, I 963) , pp. 78 , 72-73.

44. Formes elbnentaires de Ia vie religieuse, p . 245 .

4 5 . Sociologie et philosophie, pp . 74-75.

46 . Formes elbnentaires de Ia vie religieuse, p . 6 I I .

47. Bu!leth2 de Ia Societe Fran�'lise de Philosophie, sessions of Feb. I I , March 22 ,

1 9 06 (Paris: A l can, p . 1 70 ) .


Epilogue

This b o o k focuses on the workings o f D urkheim's thought. D urkheim's

relation to his own historical context is a significant issue which, for m y

purposes , i s treated largely as a b ackground factor that helps t o inform an

understanding of h i s thought. In one i m portant sense, D u rkhei m's thought

was a response to the problems confronting the Third Republ ic i n France.

But his ideas were not merely symptomatic of his milieu and are informed by,

b u t n o t reducible to , an understanding of his particular context. In addit ion,

whatever his l imitat ions in this respect , he himself was concerned about

the nature and workings of m o dern societ ies in general. And his reaction

t o prior thin kers and in tellectual traditions was most often a selective and discriminating response, as it tends to be i n all rna jor thinkers.

In general , I have subordinated the problem of i n tellectual i nfl uences on

Durkheim to that of the structure and dynamic of h i s thought. And I h ave

tried to analyze and understand that thought through a tense conjunction

of m u t ually informative, interacting approaches : accurate reconstruction

and dialogic exchange. Reconstruction involves the attempt to s ituate and comprehend somet h ing in its own time and terms, not by denying one's

implicat ion in i t b u t by coun teracting one 's inevitable proj ective or incor

p orative tendencies through careful research and close reading. D i alogic

exchange b rings a more active interchange with another's thought that calls

for a response on the par t of the reader - a response that at t imes elicits

unrealized poss ibi l i t ies and helps carry that thought into the present and future . Part of t h e success of such an exchange, wh ich - far from being

teleological - explicitly and performatively looks back in order to refl ect

critically on the past and ask how it bears on the fu ture , i s its abil ity to

induce other readers to engage and argue with its interpretations and im

pl icat ions . My own approach i s dialectical not in seeking a higher synthesis

b u t i n being dialogic and in affi rming that one must continually return to

basic problems i n the attempt to work through them. As for D urkheim's infl uence on others, there are notable omissions in this

book. The thought ofT alcott Parsons does not receive the expl icit attention

it deserves, because Parsons' ideas have i m p licitly condit ioned much of what


I h ave written, often as a critical foil , and because the emphasis of the pres

ent work is primari ly on social thought in France. I refer only scantily to

the work of the A m zee school , although I devote some attention to Marcel

Mauss . And I try to indicate the ways in which Claude Levi-Strauss , the

"inconstant disciple , " bui l t , often in highly critical or problemat ic ways, u p o n the D u rkheimian heritage. B u t important t h i n kers like Maur ice

H albwachs, Marcel Granet , and Georges Davy are shortchanged, because

I bel ieve that the work of the An n ee school can be better treated in a broader,

more synthetic study of modern French social thought .

This b ook, then, concentrates on the thought of D u rkheim and attempts to reconst i tute his ideas in a way that i s fai thful to his presentat ion of them, i n dicates h is concern fo r i m p or tan t problems in soc ia l l i fe , a n d

responds to h i s thinking i n ways that m a y at t imes help to carry i t forward

cr i t i cally and constructively. What may o n e conclude a b o u t D urkheim's

thought i tself?

On a practical level, Durkheim attempted a reconcil iat ion, or at least an

art iculation, of liberal, conservative, and radical tradit ions. The dominant force in h i s t hought was what I h ave termed h is ph i losoph ical conservatism, and this served as the capstone of his crit ical and constructive attempt at

art iculation. Above all , Durkheim wanted the emergence of a soc ie ty that

viably related legitimate order and progress, reason and sent iment , structure

and creativity. With increasing insistence, he saw m o dern society as pass ing

through a transit ional per iod that confronted people with the problem of

anomie . Anomie was especially pronounced in the economy. And the corporative group was D urkheim's specific means of overcoming social "pathology"

and inst itut ing "normality" i n mod ern l ife . In general, h e tried to work o u t

a se lective a n d discr iminating crit ical p erspective o n modern society. Given

his view of social normality, he asked what deserved to b e preserved and

what ought to be changed in modern socia l life. But often Durkheim was

not penetrating enough in his investigation of existing social realities and not t h oroughgoing enough in his concept ion of needed reforms. His t ende n cy

to avoid the hard problem of spec ific processes and agents of change was

abetted by his incl ination to envision ideals abstractly and to project their

approximate realizatio n into an indeterminate future.

D u rkhei m's thought vacillated b e tween an analytic d i s soc ia t ion o f

reality and a more o r less open dialectical v is ion . At t imes there surfaced

Fpilogue 283

between these two types of thought a more tragic sense o f life. B u t the

tragic sense was the most m u t ed element of D u rkheim's thought. His tory,

for Durkheim, was often the anomically uprooting, tragic process o f social

pathology. But his ins ight into the tragic elements of history, as well as the

forcefulness of his d i alectical visi on of their overcoming, was im paired by

the nature of his reckoning with Marx. A more direct confrontat ion with

Marx would a t least h ave sharpened Durkheim's ideas . And i t might have

provided h im with a conception of "praxis" which revealed how people

in concrete s i tuat ions experienced social pathology, with i ts sometimes

traumatic e ffects , and how they attempted to come to terms with i t . As i t

was, Durkheim remained largely caught u p b e tween a Cartesianized neoKantianism and a Hegelian notion of dialectics. Th i s bind facil i tated his

ul t imate turn toward social metaphysic as the instrument o f logical closure

for his thought . Society i tself became the surrogate for G o d in modern life

and, s imultaneously, the origin that provided ult imate legit imation for the

new discipl ine of sociology itself.

The most thought-provoking aspect of Durkhei m's thought was the more o p e n , self-critical d i alectical (or dialogic) d imens ion a n d its rela

t ion to his phi losophical conservatism. Also s ignificant was his insight

into secularization as involving neither the seamless cont inuat ion nor the

decisive termination of religion b ut i t s complex displacements in modern

life - its repet i t ion or reproduct ion with m o re o r less signifi cant, a t times

disruptive, changes - including its role i n Durkheimian sociology itself.

Moreover, with respect to both Durkheim and Marx, there is a sense in which an approach that is basically social , and has a strong normative or

practical d imens ion , may recognize b u t not affirm tragedy. C onversely, a

tragic orientation (such as that of Jacques Lacan) may admit a restricted role

for ethics and social activity which, when not conflated with tragedy, are at

best platforms for a presumably higher-order drama - even subordinate

duties if not divertissements. In Durkheim the concepts of th e tree of social life and of social normality

and pathology provided a "holist ic ," analytic and normative perspective that

offered some link between theory and practice. Durkheim did see history

in dialectical terms as a tense struggle between anomie forces and mean

ingfu l order . But absent was a concrete notion of the role of people in this

p rocess. Like Hegel , Durkheim often leaves one with a vis ion of history in


terms o f pr ocesses i n good part abstracted fro m human agents and at t imes

represented in b l indly gendered terms.

Altho ugh Durkheim fai led t o develop a concrete notion of people as

agents in h is tory, he d i d intend his ideas to serve as guides to social act ion.

Hi s concepts of the tree of social l ife and of soc ia l normal i ty and pathology

furnished a way of coordinating a conception of transhistorical values and a

crit ical theory of moral relativism. There were certain transhistorical values

- autonomy, reciproc i ty, community, and the sacred. B u t the i r manifest

ations depended on specific historical and s o cial circumstances. To the extent

that moral relativism led to their real ization in the normal state of a given

type of society, it was just ified . To the extent that i t conferred legitimacy on pure sub ject ivi ty, decis ion i s m , or pathological states of soc i e ty, it was a

symptomat ic form of "false consciousness ."

The goal of s o cial l ife was the creation and maintenance of a state of

society that was b o th rat ionally just ified and symbol ically legit imated. This

was not a stat ic state . I t included and required a s ignificant measure of

change that corresp onded to the destructive and creative role of anomie in

life. At t imes Durkheim real ized that , in modern soc ie t ies , t h i s role, a long

wi th that of crit icism and contestat ion , would b e s ignificant . S t i l l , once the

normal s ta te had been viably achieved, one's fundamental commitment was

to i t s maintenance and to the use of freedom in evaluating alternatives and

warding off unwanted change. Anomie, in this state of commitment, would

for the most par t b e restricted to a marginal aspect o f the ordinary personality and to a marginal group of extraordinary individuals in soc ie ty. Hence

there was a place for Prometheus but n o t one to b e confused with that of

"everyman." This not ion of soc ia l normality was essential to D u rkheim's

phi losophical conservatism.

By and large, Durkheim proved unable to extend his own commitment

to the point o f thinking and working more completely for the realization

of his vis ion. I n this respect, he is not atypical of the m o d ern intellectual ,

espec ially o n e s i tuated in the academy. But i t is poss ible to der ive from

Durkheim an appreciat ion of the rare combinat ion of intellectual r igor and

moral fervor that respects careful, discr iminat ing thought and avoids self

righteous dogmatism. Moreover, he proved able both to intervene effectively

in current deb ates and to provide thought of endur ing value. If anything, the quest ions of explanation, understanding, prescrip t ion , and act ion that

Fpilogue 285

Durkheim raised were more complex and problematic than he admitted. Durkheim came to bel ieve that ult imately one needs secular d isp lacements of religion to make sense of things. His mer i t was in seeking modal it ies of displacement that complemented reason instead o f contradicting i t . I t would seem obvious that an existentially gripping mode o f thought and pract ice must do more than D u rkh eim's social metaphysic was able to do. But D u rkhe im may be credited wi th seeking not a narrowly instrumental or technical rat ional i ty but a substantive, socially informed conception of reason that did not exclude afct or require a phobic , quasi-ritualistic antipathy to r itual and religion. In this respect his work retains a thought -provoking p ower of contestation even for those who may not agree with him.


Alain (Emile Chartier), 29, 44, 47 Alpert, Harry, 57-58 Ankersmit, Frank, 279n Aristo tle, 1 49 Aron, Raymond, 22n, 43 , 66n , 23 1 n

Bacon, S ir Francis, 253 Bakhtin, t-.1ikhail , 1 5 6 , 23 1 n , 274n Bakunin, M i chael, 55 Balzac, Honore de, 1 77 n , 1 87 Barres, Maurice, 5 0 Barthes, Roland, vii Bastide, Roger, 1 3 5n Bataille, Georges, vi i , 67n , 1 57 , 266 Bayer, Albert, 1 44 Bazard, Saint-Amand, 2 1 9 Belot, Gustave, 27 , 43 Benjamin, Walter, 92, 208 , 275n Bentham, Jeremy, 1 1 3 Berger, Peter, 275n Bergson, Henri , 27 , 43 , 1 94 , 254 Bernard, Claude, 1 8 9 Bernstein, Eduard, 1 8 Bert, Paul, 49 Bloch, M arc, 1 86 - 1 8 7 Blonde!, Charles, 4 5 , 233n Blonde!, M aurice, 27 Blum, Leon, 5 5 , 67n Bonald, Louis de, 1 5 , 46 Bossuet, Jacques Benigne, 6 1 Bougle, Celestin, 27, 58 , 1 29 , 1 34n Bourdieu, Pierre, vi i , 22n, 67n, 277n Bourgeois, Leon, 57 Bourget, Paul, 59 Boutroux, Emile, 27, 44, 76 Brochard, Victor, 40

Index

Brunetiere, Ferdinand, 60 Buisson, Ferdinand, 3 1 , 36 , 38 Buder, Judith, 279n

Camus, Albert, 1 37 , 1 77n- 1 78n Canivez, Andre, 42 Cassirer, Ernst, 256 Chateaubriand, Franc,:ois Auguste,

1 5 6 , 1 77n Chevalier, Loui s , 68n-69n Clapham, John, 33 Clemenceau, Georges, 36 Codrington, Robert Henry, 250 Columbus, Christopher, 22n Combes, Emile, 49 Comte, August, 2, 4 , 1 1 , 1 5 , 24n, 3 1 ,

4 1 , 46 , 76 , 84 , 1 0 8 , 1 1 3 , 1 1 5 , 1 2 5 , 1 82- 1 85 , 1 89, 1 96 , 23 1 n , 270

Cooley, Charles Horton, 79 Coulanges, Fustel de, 27, 1 90 Croce, Benedetto, 1 90 Cuvillier, Armand, 43

Darwin, Charles, 1 1 3 , 1 93 Davy, Georges, 2 , 26 , 30-3 1 , 63, 6n ,

282 Deleuze, Gilles, v i i Derrida, Jacques, v i i , 278n Descartes, Rene, 4 , 6 , 86, 98 , 1 8 0 Dostoevsky, Fyodor, 1 77n Douglas, Jack C . , 142 Dowden, Edward, 1 6 8 Dreyfus Affair, 9 , 3 3 , 35 -36 , 4 0 , 47-

48, 52, 5 5 - 5 6 , 59-62, 1 7 9 Drieu La Rochelle, Pierre, 2 0 8

2R8 Emile Durkheim: Sociologist a12d Philosopher

Duguit, Leon, 5 7 Durkheim, Emile, "Determination

du fai t moral," 43 ; "Deux Lois de 'evolution penale," 93-95 ; The Divisio12 of Labor i 12 Society, 34, 5 8 , 7 5 - 1 3 6 , 1 3 7- 1 4 1 , 1 44-1 4 5 , 1 48 , 1 5 1 , 1 53 , 1 58 , 1 7 1 , 1 79- 1 80 , 2 1 8 -2 1 9 , 277n; "Le Dualisme de I a nature humaine et ses conditions sociales," 2 1 8 ; The Eleme12tary Forms of Religious L�(e, 20-2 1 , 34 , 44 , Go, 8 1 -82, 1 05 , 1 40, 1 8 0, 1 86 , 1 94, 1 97, 2 2 5 , 227, 235-279; L'Evolutio12 pedagogique e12 Fra12ce, 1 90, 1 95 ; Germa12y Above All, 63, 87; r:Individualisme et le s imellectuels," G O ; Moral Educatio12, 92, 94-95, 1 5 6 , 1 75n , 177n, 1 8 0, 1 97, 2 1 3 ; "La Morale," 2 1 , 1 94 ; Mo12tesquieu a12d Rousseau: Foreru1212er5 ofSociology, 230n-2 3 1 n ; Pragmatisme et Sociologie, 97, 1 66 , 252 ; Primitive Classijicatio12, 2 5 8 ; Projessio12al Ethics a12d Civic Morals, 1 7 9 - 1 8 0 , 207 ; "Representations individuelles et representations collectives," 2 1 7-2 1 8 ; The Rules ofSociological Method, 4 , 8 , 12 , 8 1 , 8 8 , 1 80 , 1 86 , 2 1 3 , 222, 253 , 277n; Le Socialisrne, 1 80- 1 8 1 , 1 97 ; Sociology a12d Philosophy, 43; Suicide, 2 5 , 34 , 49 , 5 6 , 87 , 93 , I l l , 1 22, 1 24, 1 2 5 , 1 37- 1 78 , 1 80 , 1 84 , 2 1 1 , 223

Eliade, M i rcea, 273n Eliot, T. S . , 2 1 5 Erikson, Erik, 1 6 5 Espinas, Alfred, 3 0 , 76 Evans-Pritchard, E. E . , 34

�auconnet, Pau l , GGn , 97 Febvre, Lucien, 1 87, 228n Ferry, Jules, 30 , 36 , 39 Fischer, Fritz, 7 4n Flaubert, Gustave, 1 52 Fontaine, Andre, 40 Foucault, Michel, vii-vi i i , 94, 223,

232n, 233n, 266 , 278n Fouillee, Alfred, 57 Frazer, Sir James, 247 Freud, Sigmund, 84, 92 , 1 04, 1 64-

1 6 5 , 2 1 5 , 232n-233n, 262 Fromm, Erich, 233n

Gambetta, Leon, 34 , 53 Gaulle, Charles de, GGn Gide, Charles, 57 Gillen, Francis James, 246 Girard, Rene, 266 , 273n Goblot, Edmond, 27 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1 77n Goldmann, Lucien, 9 1 Gouldner, Alvin, 24n Granet, Marcel, 282 Guesde, Jules, 54-55 Guizot, Fran<;:ois , 70n Gurvitch, Georges, 22n , GGn

Halbwachs, Maurice, 3 1 , GGn , 1 7 4n-1 75n, 233n , 282

Hamelin, Octave, 28-29 Hayward, J . E . S . , 73n Hegel, Georg Wilhelm Friedrich, 7 ,

1 0 , 59 , 1 9 1 , 283 Hendin, Herbert, 1 76n Herr, Lucien, 5 5 Hobbes, Thomas, 1 5 0 , 2 1 5-2 1 6 Hoffman, Stanley, 68n Hol leaux, Maurice, 28 Hubert, Henr i , 24 1 , 244

H ughes, H . Stuart, 73n , 228n James, William, 1 1 1 Janet, Paul, 76 Janet, Pierre, 27 Jaures, Jean, 27, 5 2 , 5 5

Kant, Immanuel, 6 , 7 , 1 5 , 28 , 3 6 , 4 1 , 44, 6 1 , 90 , 1 03 , 1 3 5n , 2 1 2 , 226 , 269

Karady, Victor, 66n Kristeva, Julia, v i i , 266 Kroeber, A. L. , 34

Labriola, Antonio, 52 Lacan, Jacc.1ues, vi i , 283 LaCapra, Dominick, vi in , 23n , 177n,

178n , 23 l n, 232n, 274n, 278n, 279n

Lachelier, Jules , 38 , 44 Lacombe, Roger, 144 , 174n Laing, R. D. , 232n Lamarck, Jean Baptiste de , 1 93 Lang, Andrew, 245 Lanson, Gustave, 27 Lao-T se, 1 09 La pie, Paul, 37-40 Leach, Edmund, 263 , 278n Lenin, Vladimir, 9 1 Leon, Xavier, 26 Leroux, Pierre, 7 6 Levasseur, Emile, 1 2 3 Levi-Strauss, Claude, vii, 1 0, 22n , 84 ,

97-98, 1 02, 1 07- 1 08 , 1 3 5n , 1 8 6 , 233n , 262 , 274n-275n , 277n, 278n, 282, Elementary Structures ofKimhip, 1 04-1 0 5 ; The Savage Mind, 1 02- 1 05 , 259-262; Totemism, 1 05- 1 06

Levy-Bruhl, Lucien, 77, 82 , 1 08 , 2 5 9 , 278n

Index 289

Liard, Louis , 29-30, 37-40, 5 0 Lichtheim, George, 54-55 Lienhardt, R. Godfrey, 275n Lowie, Robert, 235 Luckmann, Thomas, 275n Luhman, Niklas, 1 0 Lukes, Steven, 22n-23n Lyotard, Jean-Fran�ois, v i i

Maistre, Joseph de, 1 5 , 46 Malebranche, Nicolas, 98 Mannheim, Karl, 1 7 , 1 4 6 , 276n Marett, R. R. , 34 Marion, Henri, 44, 57 Marx, Karl, 1 8 - 1 9 , 23n , 24n, 5 2 , 54-

55, 87, 9 1 , 1 1 7, 1 22, 1 2 5 , 1 46, 1 5 1 , 1 8 1 , 1 84, 2 1 7, 2 5 3 ,

262 , 2 8 2 -2 8 3 ; Capital, 1 8 1 ; Eighteenth Brumaire, 1 9 ; German Ideology, 5 1

Massis, Henri , 5 0 Maurras, Charles, 1 5 , 46 , 208 Mauss , t-.1arcel, v i i , 1 , 1 0 , 2 1 , 30, 3 5 ,

5 2 , 5 5 , 66 , 67n, 76-77, 90, 9 5 , 97, 1 07, 120 , 1 3 3n , 1 57, 233n , 24 1 , 247 , 2 5 6 , 274n , 278n, 282 ; The Gift, 10 , 98- 1 02 ; "Sacrifice: Its Nature and Function," 244

Mazzin i , Giuseppe, 2 1 0 Merton, Robert K. , 23n , 1 76n- 1 77n Mill , John Stuart, 1 1 3 , 1 96 Montesquieu, Charles Louis de, 27 ,

76 , 94, 208 , 230n-23 1 n Muller, Max, 245 Muntzer, Thomas, 9 1

Nietzsche, Friedrich, 79, 1 66 , 1 77n , 1 7 8n

Nizan, Paul, 5 0 Parain, Brice, 6 2


Pareto , Vi lfredo , 1 26 Parsons , Talcott, 7, 22n, 7 5 , 235-236 ,

273n, 28 1 Pascal, Blaise, 1 8 5 Pecaut, Felix, 36 , 3 8 , 4 0 Peguy, Charles, 48 , 62 Plato, 250 , 259 , 272 Pope Leo XIII , 47

Radcliffe-Brown, A. R., 8 1 , 278n-279n

Reinach, Salomon, 27 Renouvier, Charles, 6 , 38, 4 1 R i chard, Gaston, 1 3 8 , 1 74n R i chter, lv1elvin, 60 Ross, Kristin, 6 8 n Rousseau, Jean-Jacques, 1 5 , 28 , 6 1 ,

76, 84-85 , 1 03 , 1 1 3 , 1 8 6 , 2 1 2 , 230n-23 1 n

Saint-Simon, Claude Henri de, 32 , 52, 1 07, 1 1 2, 1 8 1 - 1 86 , 1 9 1 , 1 93-1 9 5 , 2 1 7, 2 1 9 , 2 3 1 n

Salvemini, Gaetano, 1 90 Sangnier, �fare, 47 Saussure, Ferdinand de, 84 SchaefAe, Albert, 29, 52 , 1 27 Schmitt, Carl, 208 Schopenhauer, Arthur, 1 7 1 Scott, Joan, 279n Seignobos, Charles, 1 92 Sewell, William, 73n Simmel , Georg, 1 89 Smith, Adam, 77 Smith, Robertson , 62 Socrates, 89 , 9 1 , 1 9 1 Sorel, Georges, 54 , 208 Spencer, Sir Baldwin, 246 Spencer, Herbert, 4 , 6 1 , 97 , 1 1 0- 1 1 1 ,

1 1 3 , 1 1 8- 1 1 9 , 1 2 1 , 1 89 , 2 1 6

Spinoza, Baruch, 2 6 , 40 Spuler, Eugene, 30 Steeg, Jules, 36, 38 Steinmetz, Sebald-Rudolf, 94 Sutherland, Edwin Hardin, 90

Tarde, Alfred de, 50 Tarde, Gabriel, 44-45, 50 , 71 n , 9 1 ,

1 26 , 1 49 , 2 1 6 , 254 Thibaudet, Albert, 37-38 Thiers, Adolphe, 33 Thomson, David, 32, 48 Tiryakian , Edward, 23n-24n Tocc.1ueville, Alexis de, v i i i , 33, 5 3 ,

1 1 1 , 230n, 23 1 n Tonnies, Ferdinand, 79 , 1 1 5 - 1 1 6 ,

1 1 9 Treitschke, Heinrich von, 63 , 74n Turner, Victor, 80 , 1 08 - 1 1 0 Tylor, E . B . , 34 , 245

Weber, �1ax, 23n-24n, 78-79, 1 1 7, 1 44 , 1 49 , 1 65 - 1 70, 1 92, 2 1 5 , 240, 263 , 275n

Wundt, Wilhelm, 29 White, Hayden, 279n Wolff, Robert Paul, 276n

Zizek, Slavoj, 276n

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LACAPRA, D. Emile Durkheim - Sociologist and Philosopher [Em Inglês]