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Social Representations Theory
Social Representations Theory
0021–8308
son image et son public” of 1961, inspired our own research, and stimulated our
modest contributions to the development of the theory of social representations.
In 1994 when we formulated a research project on “Biotechnology and the
European Public,” it was the study of psychoanalysis in French society of the
1950s that fascinated us. Our project started with a workshop on the Greek island
of Hydra and later found European Commission support. By 2002 our network
included 16 teams across Europe, North America and Japan. In the course of
outlining the theory of social representations to collaborators from a number of
disciplinary backgrounds and implementing it as a framework to guide the research,
we elaborated a generalised account of the theory (Bauer and Gaskell, 1999).
What made “Psychoanalysis” an inspirational model to study genetic engineering
and its publics at the turn of the 21st century? Three elements were important:
its particular conception of common sense as creative resistance, its concern with
science in society, and its methodology. We remain convinced that this continues
to be a fertile programme of research for social psychology even after 40 years.
Let us explain why.
“. . . the birth of a new common sense which cannot be understood in terms of the
vulgarisation, diffusion or distortion of science” (Moscovici, 2008, p. xxix).
Vulgarisation
Diffusion
Diffusion became a technical term in rural sociology of the 1940s and 1950s,
during the 1st Green Revolution, and has migrated into many fields of social
innovation research.
Figure 1. The sigmoid diffusion curve (same speed, delayed start): the X axis is time and the
Y axis the percentage of adopters.
Commonly defined
“diffusion is the process by which an innovation is communicated through certain channels over
time among the members of a social system” (Valente and Rogers, 1995, p. 243).
Social Representation
The idea of the “new common sense” intimates that everyday conversations and
beliefs are increasingly displaced, informed, enriched, enhanced, impregnated,
and colonized (the terms have implications for the analysis) by modern science.
To some, the secularisation of society means the substitution of religion, myth and
tradition in everyday life by science; to others it means the pluralisation of common
senses and the requirement for cognitive polyphasia—another concept explored
in la Psychanalyse. How this all plays out is an eminently empirical question that
is moving up the social scientific agenda (Taylor, 2007). The issue of science and
common sense is a daunting problem (see Jovchelovitch in this issue). Let us
review some possible perspectives on the gap issue without any claim to completeness.
English empiricism with its ethos of unprejudiced observation, practical
experiment, and the rejection of idols, traditions, and authority, suggests that
science is purified common sense. Science is common sense by an another name.
There are variations on what “purified” might mean here. For example science is
a human activity that is both rational and empirical; it guides human activity with
predictions and offers choices. What distinguishes science from common sense is
that predictions are made systematically, consciously and rationally, and these are
self-corrective through learning. Thus science is a somewhat more formalised
version of common sense (e.g. Bronowski, 1951).
The new sociology of science since the 1970s defends the position that there is
no substantive difference between everyday activity and scientific practice or
between the minds of the scientist and the citizen (i.e. for a critique of the dual
mind theory, see Wagner and Hayes, 2005).
All purported differences are ex-post accounts, a product of hindsight for the
purpose of out-group demarcation and the dignification of a knowledge authority.
These meta-theories obfuscate the local practices of science, hence the call: “stop
talking about science—go to a laboratory, any lab will do, and hang around . . . do
you see anything beyond ordinary discourse and situated action?” (Lynch, 1993,
p. 315). Thus, ethnomethodologists do not tire of pointing out that in scientific
settings and in ordinary everyday life we do similar things and that scientific
experts have little or no advantage in making choices and passing judgements on
important matters of life and death. Expertise with the advantage of knowledge
“. . . the notion of an increasing gap between science and the public is heavily dependent on
20th century physics . . . Hopefully, the current decline of the prestige of physics that has been
noted in various countries over the past 10 years, and the consequent increase of the prestige of
biological and environmental sciences could bring about a deep transformation in the relations
between science and the public” (2001, 109).
The 20th century attention was focused on the vector from science to common
sense, but this may be changing. Farr (1993) in his response to Wolpert, argues
that while there may be a gap between science and common sense, the key is to
suspend judgement and to study the processes of re-presentations as exemplified
in the study of psychoanalysis in France (albeit not a prototypical 20th century
natural science). And we might add: not only to suspend judgement, but also to
observe how re-presentations feed back to science.
This vector bias from a dignified context to less dignified contexts situates
social representations theory in relation to post-Mertonian sociology of knowledge,
the social constructivist Science & Technology Studies (STS). For the latter the
processes by which knowledge claims are dignified are the key—the machinations
by which the world is “reified” in data, mathematical models, and visualisations;
the rhetorical work of metaphors and analogies in theory building; the settling of
epistemic conflicts by boundary work and normalisation; and the management of
innovation and scientific expertise in policy making, and the rhetoric of authority.
A social representations analysis might show how all this build-up might be
resisted by common sense through the differentiation of reception in different
contexts.
In this regard the slightly ironic title of a paper we presented at a conference
in Aix-en-Provence in 1996 “la tomate genetique—son image et son public” makes sense.
The tomato, this most familiar Mediterranean vegetable, became in the 1980s
a promising target of genetic engineering—the genetically modified tomato. To
understand what is going on requires us to take a rather unfamiliar gaze on this
everyday vegetable. First, is it a fruit or a vegetable? But a fruit hardly fits with
the idea of salad or pasta sauce; and then, neither fruit nor vegetable are scientific
categories. Second, we need to understand the basics of gene technology—is it an
In a previous paper in this journal (Bauer and Gaskell, 1999), we presented our
reflections on social representations. We defined a “paradigm” in the sense of an
ideal-typical formulation of basic concepts and methodological implications for
studying “biotechnology in public conversations” as social representation. Let us
briefly revisit the main ideas.
First we defined a “social representation” as a logical triplet of subject, object
and project.
An Expanding Theory
Our specification of the toblerone model—subject, object and project (Bauer and
Gaskell, 1999) was found to be insufficient. Empirical evidence suggested various
extensions to the model. We now conceive of a representation as a function of
several arguments:
A Synthetic Theory
The success of the sciences relies on analytic power. The virtues of synthetic
positions are sometimes underrated. Synthesis makes demands on time and effort.
“Boundary objects are both plastic enough to adapt to local needs and the constraints of the
several parties . . . , yet robust enough to maintain a common identity across the site” (ibidem,
p. 393).
Working internationally with the “gold standard” of social research, the nationally
representative sample survey is an experience in itself. The reception of survey
How can we demarcate the relevant social milieus? Or the historical question;
on what basis was it possible to consider the milieus of Catholics, Communists
and Liberals as relevant to the study of la Psychanalyse in the 1950s? This points
to the problem of identifying relevant social groupings, each with a sense of self-
identity and of self-reference more or less explicitly related to a common
project.
In this regard social science is confronted by a powerful machinery of socio-
demographic and psychological profiling. The methodology is based on co-variance
analysis and statistical classifications. Cluster analysts are hyperactive in creating
“market segmentations” for any possible product or idea. But such classifica-
tion systems are functional orderings in the “battle for the hearts and minds,”
observer categories without any bearing on how people refer to themselves. Every
marketer segments the market for a purpose, to optimise outreach and market
shares.
Should we seek guidance on segmentation in the recent sociology of consumption,
cultural capital and life-styles (e.g. Schulze, 2005; Bourdieu, 1979)? In this out-
look, modern society is separated into milieus according to the experiential
imperative: what counts is the experience of work, family, and leisure. Using the
basic markers of age and education, Schulze distinguishes five milieus: Niveau
(high education, older), Harmony (medium education, older), Integration (low
education, older), Self-actualisation (young, educated), Entertainment (young, less
educated). At least in Germany, these “Weltanschungsmilieus” can be typified by
what people seek pleasure in, their confidence and outlook in life, inward or
outward orientation, future perspectives and existential problems. But they still
are observer categories. It remains open to what extent these are self-referential
groups with a collective project for the future. Here, we might look again at Kurt
Lewin’s field theory, and at one of his students, Morton Deutsch, on group structure
and belief systems (Deutsch, 1990).
NOTES
1
This state of affairs was confirmed at a recent meeting on science communication
research attended by one of the authors in Paris ( July 2008). Speakers and discussants freely
used the term “vulgarisation de la science” exchangeable with science communication
even in the context of a dialogical model. When pressed colleagues admit a negative
connotation, but refer to the continued common use of the term.
2
A famous Zen story goes something like this: the novice asked the monk “what is the
Budda?.” The monk: “have you made tea today?. The novice is confused, and asks “what
does tea have to do with my question?.” The monk: if you make tea correctly, there is no
such question anymore.
3
Here we acknowledge our colleague Jane Gregory, a historian of science, who over the
years variously drew our attention to this historical work on “boundary work.”