Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 29

Facts, Values, and Evaluative Explanation: Contributions of Leo Strauss to Contemporary

Debates
Author(s): James R. Abbott
Source: The American Sociologist , Spring, 2001, Vol. 32, No. 1 (Spring, 2001), pp. 50-77
Published by: Springer

Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/27700252

JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms

Springer and American Sociological Association are collaborating with JSTOR to digitize,
preserve and extend access to The American Sociologist

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Facts, Values, and Evaluative Explanation:
Contributions of Leo Strauss to
Contemporary Debates

James R. Abbott

As the 20th century comes to a close, sociologists remain mired in the long-standing
debate surrounding facts and values. The tensions between value-neutral and value
relevant sociologists have raged for decades and no resolution appears likely; at least
no resolution is likely within the parameters of the existing debate. This essay is an
introduction to the work of social thinker Leo Strauss, whose orientation provides a
different perspective on the issue. It was Strauss's conviction that sociologists were
fiddling Neros, oblivious to the crisis of value they helped engender, but excused on
grounds that they did not know they fiddled and that they did not know Rome
burned. A value-free social science that denied the possibility of reasoned discourse
on value, while surreptitiously advancing a vision of the good, created little but
confusion while undermining the basis on which any vision of the good could be
defended. A value-driven social science, animated by what Strauss called the "his
torical sense," likewise undermined the legitimacy of the value this social science was
designed to serve while casting suspicion on all subsequent value claims. Works by
Bellah, Wallerstein and Alexander, Seidman, Collins and Denzin, among others, are
used for illustrative purposes. Following Strauss, it is suggested that evaluation and
explanation cannot be divorced; theirs was a natural relationship that modern phi
losophy, beginning with Machiavelli, had unwittingly denied. Strauss advocated a
social science that understood value as something to quest for, rather than something
to be assumed, and he judged theory to be a guide for action, rather than its substi
tute. It is suggested that Strauss's reading of the classics could be of benefit to
sociologists seeking resolution to the crisis of facts and values.

Introduction

In recent years we have witnessed a burgeoning literature exclaiming the


crisis (or crises) of sociology. One might say that concerns over the state of the
discipline and warnings over its imminent implosion have become a growth
industry. Naturally, there is no agreement as to the source and nature of our
discipline's alleged woes, and no agreement as to how we may fix the time that
is out of joint. But the unease about sociology is widespread (see Levine 1995:

James R. Abbott is assistant professor and Chairperson of the Sociology Department at Rowan
University in Glassboro, N.J.

50 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
284-297). Thus we routinely read of a discipline that is fragmenting beyond
measure, with ever-smaller paradigmatic camps zealously protecting their
epistemic privileges, unable or unwilling to engage each other in constructive
efforts to advance sociological knowledge (see, e.g., Turner and Turner 1990;
Davis 1994; Turner and Kim 1999); we read as well of a discipline that is
decomposing under the weight of its ideological bagage, manipulating science
for narrow political gain and using the veil of science to conceal self-interested
behavior (see, e.g., Imber 1990; 1999; Horowitz 1993; Wolfe 1996); conversely,
we read of a discipline that has lost its moral nerve, having been seduced by
value-neutrality, a discipline dominated by impersonal quantifiers and/or arm
chair theorists who turn a blind eye to real social problems and who are content
to spend their days collecting ever-more "facts" in fulfillment of a "scientific"
sociology that never could or should be, or contemplating the arcane as the
world in all its misery passes them by. (see, e.g., Seidman 1991; 1998; Feagin
1999)
This essay is still more commentary on sociology's woes insofar as they
relate to longstanding debates regarding the distinction between facts and val
ues. The great chasm between humanism and scientism implicit in such de
bates, and the often contentious dialogue surrounding the possibility and/or
desirability of value-neutral vs. value driven sociology have been persistent
themes in the history of the discipline. In this sense, there is not much novel
about our present "crisis," save perhaps its urgency. We have always been at
odds over these essential issues, as recent commentary by Wallerstein (1998)
suggests, and as Donald N. Levine has ably demonstrated in his Visions of the
Sociological Tradition (1995). The legacy of value-neutrality, at the center of
which has been Max Weber, in particular his "Science as a Vocation" (as distinct
from "Politics as a Vocation"), a legacy appropriated by the Parsonian school of
the 1940's and 1950's, and a legacy that continues to influence contemporary
sociologists, has stood in stark conflict with the tradition of a value-driven
sociology. Decades before Howard Becker implored sociologists to "take a
side" and use their expertise to advance the cause of a just society, Robert Lynd
took sociologists to task for being too academic, for being too focused on their
"scientific" research, and for not advancing the cause of liberal democracy (as
he understood liberal democracy). Lynd's Knowledge for What? (1939) was an
explicit and impassioned critique of value-neutral sociology, claiming that ef
forts to build a "scientific" sociology were akin to lecturing on navigation as the
ship was sinking. C. Wright Mills, of course, found Lynd's example compelling,
certainly more compelling than the quantitative and apolitical social science of
colleague Paul Lazarsfeld, for example, and his The Sociological Imagination
reiterated the call for a value-driven sociology that attends to the very real
problems of everyday life (see Horowitz 1983: 76-113). Mills's listen Yankee!
(I960) took the marriage of activism and scholarship to another dimension.
The divide separating Lynd's and Mills's "other Columbia," as Horowitz framed
it, from Lazardsfeld's Bureau of Applied Research, was unpassable. (1983: 88)
Neither the the steady scholarly hand of then Chair Robert Maclver nor the later
mediating efforts of Robert K. Merton could mend this rift. And an unsettling rift
it evidently was. Maclver, in fact, reported that there were moments he wished
he had accepted an earlier offer to join another department at Columbia, espe

Abbott 51

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
cially in the wake of the bitter tensions that followed the publication of his
critical review of Lynd's book (1968: 137-138). Maclver conceded that his
review was injudicious; but he judged that the disciplinary divide that inspired
the review, and to which the review was addressed, could not have been
mitigated. Simply put, it was too sharply drawn. And the cleavages that divided
Columbia (and so many other historical programs) are not unlike the fissures
with which we wrestle today.1 (see, e.g., Bogen 1999; Fuller 1998; and S.
Turner 1998)
Attempts to transcend the historical chasm between value-relevance and
neutrality have been few in number, and arguably of little consequence. Robert
K. Merton might have played a mediating role in the factional disputes at
Columbia, but his middle range theory did not reconcile facts and values. Pitirim
Sorokin (1966) is a notable exception, but his caustic Fads and Foibles in Mod
ern Sociology and Related Sciences (1956) managed to alienate the bulk of the
sociological community, especially those elements committed to the scientific
unearthing of facts (see Coser 1977: 491). Besides (and as I suggest below), the
ground on which Sorokin based his assertion of value was not altogether stable.
Alvin Gouldner could be judged another exception, but his once influential The
Coming Crisis in Western Sociology (1970) was more transformative than con
structive. Gouldner sought to dispel value neutrality as a myth. He showed that
value-neutral sociologists were anything but neutral, that they advanced surrep
titiously visions of a good as they denied science's capability to speak intelligi
bly on value. Gouldner made the argument that sociological research ought to
be engaged in everyday life, that values ought to be relevant throughout the
research process. Only certain values, however, were worthy of promulgation.
Gouldner had no patience with the values espoused by the likes of Talcott
Parsons, et al., holding that mainstream sociology was animated by a conserva
tism wholly supportive of the status quo (on the subject of Parsons "value
neutrality" see also William Buxton 1985). Gouldner desired a very different
orientation. And there was no missing the direction of his commitments. Ulti
mately, however, Gouldner made no reasoned case in support of his value
positions and the uses to which his own research would be put. His call for a
value-driven social science, in other words, brought attention to foundational
problems of value-relevant work. In sum, the ground on which Gouldner based
his assertions of value was likewise unstable, and one leaves his work
unconvinced that the values served by research stem from anything other than
personal preference, and that "science" is indeed the vehicle for the promulga
tion of ideology.
Recently, Immanuel Wallerstein (1998), then President of the International
Sociological Association, conceded this very point. Taking stock of our century's
dialogue on facts and values, with full benefit of our historical perspective,
Wallerstein essentially argued that the ideological divisions within the disci
pline, expressed in methodological, paradigmatic or manifestly political terms,
have no basis other than personal preference. Those who assert a value-rel
evant sociology, in other words, are as little prepared to defend their premises
as those who claim value-neutrality. Robert Lynd, for example, could no more
defend on reasoned ground our political commitment to his vision of democ
racy than could Gouldner, or for that matter Mills. And with the recent postmodern

52 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
movement in the sociology, the crisis surrounding value and valuation is all the
more urgent. Postmodern arguments that cast doubt on the very notion of real
ity, that dismiss claims to objectivity, and that unmask all assertions of truth as
assertions of power would appear to render absurd the historical notion of
scholarship, both in its value-neutral and value-relevant modes (see Foucault
1979; 1972). No one is spared in this latest unmasking of social science, not the
Millses, past or present, not the Lynds, and certainly not the Lazarsfelds. If, as
Nietzsche held, life is but an interpretation of a text, that is, if truth is a veil
concealing will to power, so too our claims to scientific objectivity and scientific
truth; so too our calls for a more democratic and just society. The sociologist,
unable to secure immunity from her/his own verdict on "objectivity" or claims
to "justice," becomes yet another player in the never-ending drama that is
power and domination, and scholarship just another text to be deployed in the
class, gender and race wars. Confusion naturally follows. Thus some sociolo
gists question our ability to observe facts objectively; others doubt that there are
indeed "facts" to be observed; while still others are uncertain about the role of
values in research, not least because they have come to implicate the scientific
endeavor in the larger drama of oppression, control and surveillance.
Wallerstein claimed that the ideological divisions in sociology were acute and
irreconcilable, and together they undermined the discipline's claim to legiti
macy. Historically, sociologists have sought refuge from this dilemma by adopt
ing the positions "universalist/positivist" or "relativist/social constructionism"
Neither alternative is satisfactory. And our continuing to frame the problems of
value and valuation in this manner is in effect to ignore and thus deepen the
crisis. As Robert Antonio remarked, "... neopositivists still neglect the issue of
normative foundations, ideologues still masquerade their views as science, and
confusion still reigns about the meaning of social theory (1998: 64).
Wallerstein called on sociologists to transcend this historical divide and locate
the intellectual space where social science politically engaged can be collec
tively validated, where we can ply our craft in socially relevant terms indepen
dent of the passions of ideologues and without the pretense of value indiffer
ence. He urged sociologists to revisit the debate over facts and values and
establish the ground on which we may bring some clarity to fundamental philo
sophical controversies that have long beset the discipline. But he understood
that resolution of the problem could not be found within the parameters of the
historical debate over facts and values. If our discourse on value unfolds within
the conceptual boundaries that are responsible for our present and historical
confusion regarding value and valuation, we will certainly not bring clarity to
the issues. We cannot transcend the chasm by invoking the broad perspectives
that manufactured it. I submit a fresh take on the question of value is in order. A
different orientation to the issues could shed light where there is now shadows.

Leo Strauss and Modern Social Science

This essay draws on the controversial work of political philosopher Leo


Strauss (1899-1973) to introduce a fresh take on the question of value in socio
logical research. A critical appreciation of Strauss, in particular his diagnosis of
the crisis of modern social science and by extension modern liberalism, may

Abbott 53

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
assist us in transcending the chasm that has all but paralyzed discussion over
value. Among sociologists Strauss is an unfamiliar name. While he is widely
read by philosophers, in particular political philosophers, as well as political
scientists, Strauss has been virtually ignored by sociologists. In my own experi
ence, mention of Strauss's name usually invites the retort, "You mean Levi
Strauss, don't you?" Better still, Sociological Abstracts has indexed papers I have
presented on Strauss at ASA meetings under the heading "Anselm Strauss." This
is hardly reassuring as Leo Strauss remains a major 20th-century social thinker. At
any rate, on the rare occasions Strauss is considered by sociologists it is not
normally for reasons of edification. Sociologists tend to caricature Strauss's work
for the purpose of censure rather than approach him as a serious scholar from
whom we may learn something. Alan Wolfe (1999), for example, betrays a
superficial reading of Strauss in his recent review of American conservatism for
The New Republic.2 Dennis Wrong (1998) simply doesn't take Strauss seriously
as he casually dismisses Strauss's argument on esoteric writing. One would
never guess from Wolfe or Wrong what one of Strauss's most intractable critics,
Stephen Holmes (1993), was quick to concede: Of the emigre intellectuals,
Strauss's scholarship was among the most complex and penetrating. Sociologists
have much to gain from Strauss's formidable critique of contemporary social
science. His diagnosis of the problems surrounding values and valuation is
compelling. In short, his work is indispensable for those interested in locating
that intellectual space where collectively validated thought and social relevance
are harmonized.
Strauss was born in Kichland, Hesson, Germany, raised in an orthodox family,
and trained at the Universities of Marburg and Hamburg. Having earned his
Ph.D. in 1921 from Hamburg, Strauss spent a postdoctoral year at Freibourg
University, at which time Husserl was professor of philosophy with Heidegger
as his youthful assistant. In 1932 Strauss was awarded a Rockefeller grant. He
left Germany for Paris and later Cambridge. (After the war he returned to
Germany only once and spent but a few short days.) Strauss migrated to America
in 1938, where he joined the faculty of the New School for Social Research. A
decade later Strauss accepted an appointment to the Political Science Depart
ment at the University of Chicago (Banfield 1991; Bloom 1990). At Chicago
Strauss spent his most productive years, producing such works as Natural Right
and History (1953), Thoughts on Machiavelli (1958), What is Political Philoso
phy? (1959), The City and Man (1964), and Liberalism Ancient and Modern
(1968). His Chicago years established Strauss's reputation as a commanding
scholar and an engaging pedagogue.
As with so many scholars of his generation, Strauss cannot be understood
apart from the horrors of Nazi Germany; the ease with which human freedom
was eradicated in an ostensibly liberal society, and how leading thinkers of the
time, most notably Heidegger, condoned and even participated in the Nazi
movement. Among the lessons Strauss took from this unconscionable experi
ence was that human beings must never cease posing questions surrounding
the good society. Nor should humans defer to convention or history in coming
to terms with how they ought to live. As he put it, "The biggest event of 1933
would rather seem to have proved, if such proof was necessary, that man
cannot abandon the question of the good society, and that he cannot free

54 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
himself from the responsibility for answering it by deferring to History or to any
other power different from his own reason." (1959: 27)
Yet Strauss was convinced that western social thinkers in the post-war era
had abandoned the philosophic quest for the good, embracing instead what he
called the "historical sense," the view according to which values and value
judgments have no validity independent of time and place (1953). Sociology's
paradigmatic diversity aside, Strauss judged that ultimately all sociological work
(and modern social science as a whole) was committed to and issued from this
broad perspective. Having developed in the wake of the French Revolution,
and having been known through the decades as "historicism" or "social con
structionism," among many other terms (a recent moniker passing itself off as
"new" is "social studies of science"), sociologists assume the historical sense as
a matter of course. We take it for granted, sparing it our critical reflection.
Strauss, however, was differently inclined. He understood this perspective to
originate with Nietzsche, and he regarded Heidegger as Nietzsche's intellectual
grandson (1983: 29-37; 1959: 9-55). That Heidegger used this perspective to
justify national socialism was reason enough for Strauss to doubt its resonance
with modern liberalism. (See also Safranski 1998)3 That the historical sense
appeared inconsistent with and indeed undermined democratic society's com
mitment to reason to validate its highest aims compelled Strauss to reflect
critically on its surface claims (1975: 81-98). In short, Strauss examined the
ways in which the historical sense challenged a society among whose founding
premises was the conviction that truths were self-evident and that rights were
inalienable.
This is not to suggest Strauss was a defender of the modern. On the contrary,
he held that modern liberalism was in crisis, that it could not give an accounting
of itself, and that it had failed to mount an adequate defense against its histori
cist critics. At the same time, however, Strauss maintained that the historical
sense was no panacea. In other words, those who would reject natural right in
favor of history were likewise unable to account for their own voice and unable
to defend their fundamental premises.
In support of his position Strauss advanced essentially four arguments. First,
it has long been recognized that arguments proposing the existential determina
tion of thought are arguments determined by existence, not one of which can
lay claim to validity (as we understand "validity" in the scientific sense), and all
of which will perish with the particular historical contexts that gave them birth.
The historicist's voice, in short, is undermined by its principal assumption, a
paradox the likes of Mannheim could never quite resolve. And it is a voice
inconsistent with its own verdict. To state the matter differently, the argument
that human thought and beliefs are grounded in time and space admits that
"human thought is capable of acquiring a most important insight that is univer
sally valid and that will in no way be affected by any future surprises." (Strauss,
1953: 24) That is, the historical thesis admits a trans-historical truth as it claims
that trans-historical truths do not exist. But the historical thesis cannot admit to
trans-historical knowledge without undermining its basic premise. It cannot
claim immunity from its own verdict without appearing contradictory. "To assert
the historicist thesis," Strauss concluded, "is to doubt it and thus to transcend it."
(1953: 25)

Abbott 55

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Second, many sociologists frame the historical sense in normative terms. To
wit: By denying the possibility of transcendental truths or genuine knowledge
of what is intrinsically good or right the historical sense is said to champion
toleration of cultural belief systems. We ought not pass judgment on others if
there exists no evaluative standard over and above existence. Moreover, the
passing of judgment, routinely in the name of some absolute good, has proven
disastrous throughout human history, causing little but oppression and war.
Suspicion of all absolute claims, then, is in accordance with history. But here
again we witness a familiar contradiction. The historical sense frames "tolera
tion" as an intrinsic good as it denies the existence of intrinsic goods; it evalu
ates and passes judgment?presumably on the intolerant?as it denies the pos
sibility of evaluation and cautions against passing judgment (Strauss, 1953: 7;
see also Salkever 1990: 28). In short, it deploys an evaluative standard over and
above "what is" as it claims that no such standard exists.
Third, again in normative terms, the historical sense was advanced partly in
reaction to the cultural homelessness that might result from the discovery of an
abstract universal truth(s). All conventions, all traditions, grounded as they are
in time and place, are vulnerable should transcendent truths come to light.
Collective commitments to particular traditions would be weakened, and with
them the foundations on which individual and group identities were based. We
may invoke here the position that the rights of man were presumed a fiction,
and that only the rights of Germans or the French existed. The rights of man
threatened to transcend and usurp the particular, in response to which the
historical sense emerged, secure in the assumption that local principles alone
could direct human actors in meaningful ways. Historical principles?concrete
and particular?were to be derived, and their legitimacy sustained, indepen
dent of any reference to a universal, which at any rate was presumed not to
exist.
Strauss questioned the grounds on which universal principles were aban
doned and the capacity for purely historical standards to maintain legitimacy
(1953: 17). It was Strauss's conviction that evaluation of and commitment to an
historical standard apart from universal principles was impossible. If, as the
historicists claim, the historical process reveals no objective norms, that all
standards are subjective and the product of unmitigated chance, commitments to
historical standards have no basis save blind choice. Put differently, a social
science that reveals the relativity of historical standards deprecates each and
every one of them, eroding the basis for commitment. We commit to something
only by virtue of its appearing special to us. Should science strip from the
objects of our respect their special quality, our commitments appear without
basis. Borrowing a page from Nietzsche, Strauss held that the historical sense
challenged the protective atmosphere within which social action was possible;
the innocence at the center of our fidelity to convention is drowned as history is
unmasked as a tale told by an idiot (1953: 26). "The attempt to make man
absolutely at home in this world," Strauss concluded with great irony, "ended in
man's becoming absolutely homeless." (1953: 18)
Finally, Strauss maintained that these dilemmas were not peculiar to an ex
pressly historical social science. Logical positivism, for example, was no more
able to account for its own voice, and no more able to grant itself immunity

56 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
from its own verdict (1959: 25-27). Indeed, Strauss held that positivism was
historicism, albeit in different guise. In the movement toward cross-cultural
work, made necessary by the danger of mistaking the modern West, for ex
ample, for the essential character of human society, positivism acknowledged
that the understanding of other cultures past and present demanded that they be
addressed on their own terms. Interpretations of non-western cultures through a
western conceptual schema would result only in distortion, as such schema are
relevant only to the particular context in which they evolved. Sociological
analysis must unfold in terms of and through the conceptual tools specific to the
cultural world at hand. "[Hence] Historical understanding," Strauss wrote, "be
comes the basis of a truly empirical science of society." (1959: 25) At the same
time, however, positivism assumes social science to be guided by the rules of
logic according to which purportedly objective answers to research questions
are discovered. But the questions posed and the concepts used are subjective,
rooted in and emanating from the particular context at hand. However "objec
tive" our answers may be they "receive their meaning from subjective ques
tions." (1959: 26) Thus does Sociology itself become historical and particularis
tic. As Strauss put it:

It is therefore not possible to divorce from each other the subjective and objective elements of
social science: the objective answers receive their meaning from the subjective questions. If
one does not relapse into the decayed Platonism which is underlaying the notion of timeless
values, one must conceive of the values embodied in a given social science as dependent on
the society to which the social science in question belongs, i.e., on history. Not only is social
science superseded by historical studies; social science itself proves to be "historical." (1959:
26)

Strauss devoted considerable space to exposing wayward voices of positiv


ists and historicists alike. He focused his analytical energy, however, on Max
Weber's value-neutral sociology and the distinction between facts and values
(1953: 35-80). Strauss brought to light the frequent occasions when Weber was
inconsistent on his own decree with regard to facts and values and where he
was anything but value neutral in his analysis of social life. Weber's distinctions
between higher and lower religions, for example, genuine charisma and charla
tanism, his foreboding words on the "iron cage" betray not only his commitment
to evaluation but his conviction, however latent, that not all faith commitments
are equal (Strauss, 1953: 50-51).
Strauss's critique of Weber came at a time when value neutrality was the
dominant orientation of professional sociologists. In denying the possibility of
reasoned discourse on the subject of value, while surreptitiously advancing
their own visions of what ought to be, Strauss believed professional sociologists
had created little but confusion; what is more, professional sociologists under
mined their legitimacy in defending their value positions against any and all
alternatives, against any and all threats. Followers of Weber, for example, who
judged their commitment to liberal democracy to be rooted in personal prefer
ence rather than reason, had no basis to defend their principles against others
whose commitments were openly antagonistic towards democratic ideals. If all
values are ultimately a function of preference, a commitment to liberal democ
racy was no more solidly grounded than a commitment, or "preference," for

Abbott 57

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
fascism. Value-neutral sociologists, in other words, surrendered their ability to
defend the very principles their research advocated. Thus did Strauss in his
famous conclusion to the essay "An Epilogue" (1962) liken value-neutral social
scientists to fiddling Neros, oblivious to the crisis their orientation helped en
gender, but excused on grounds that they did not know they fiddled and they
did not know Rome burned.
Much has changed since Strauss took value-neutral sociologists to task. Value
neutrality, simply put, is no longer the dominant orientation among professional
sociologists. The ideological movements of the 1960's brought to the fore an
explicitly value-driven sociology that questioned the possibility and/or desir
ability of value-neutral approaches to social life. Lynd and Mills were trium
phant in the long run. But the recent explosion of value-driven sociology
would not satisfy Strauss. Historicism operates in different guise; sociologists
continue to fiddle as Rome burns. Thus value-driven sociologists persist in
denying the possibility of universals as they assert them, render value judg
ments as they caution against doing same, and urge commitment to value sys
tems as they devalue them. In other words, value-driven sociologists provide
no ground on which to justify our commitment to their visions of the good, or
they simply urge commitment to value systems while undermining the basis
according to which we may justify our deference to their ideals.

Leo Strauss and Postmodern Sociologies

Value-driven sociologists wear many masks. The prolific Norman Denzin, for
example, specifically his work Symbolic Interaction and Cultural Studies (1992),
and the well regarded Stephen Seidman, specifically his essay "The End of
Sociological Theory: The Postmodern Hope," which appeared in Sociological
Theory (1991: vol. 9, no. 2, 131-146), assume a postmodern pose to advance
their visions of the good.4 It would be an understatement to say that each of
these authors harbors enthusiasm for the postmodern temperament. Both Denzin
and Seidman see a postmodern sociology as panacea for the ills that currently
afflict the discipline, principal among which is a disengagement from real life
problems. In this sense they share the concerns voiced recently by the likes of
Feagin and voiced long ago by Lynd. While it is debatable whether American
sociology is or has been disengaged from the world, it is the manner in which
each author presents his argument that is of interest here.
In Symbolic Interaction and Cultural Studies, Denzin makes the well-worn
argument for the contextuality of all knowledge, seemingly oblivious to the
trans-contextual nature of the "truth" he espouses. Among other things, Denzin
follows the deconstructionists in abandoning the strategy of probing texts for
meaning on the grounds that texts have no intrinsic meaning (1992: 65). Texts
are open to multiple interpretations, not one of which can be true in the
objective sense. Authoritative readings of texts, Denzin claims, are simply those
judged persuasive in light of convention; interpretations that fail to gain support
lack the necessary capital to persuade or, similarly, are at odds with convention.
That Denzin does not assume this of his own works and of his own interpreta
tions of texts is beside the point. (More on this below.) The issue to be noted
here is a simple and familiar one: Denzin's presumably objective truth about the

58 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
meaning of texts, a truth we are told does not exist, was reached through his
objective reading of Derrida's work, which we are told is not possible. Denzin's
deconstructionist premise culminates in a contradictory ruling, immunity from
which is difficult indeed.5
In Images of Postmodern Society (1991) Denzin makes a similar claim in
forfeiting all pretense to objectivity. "Of course any hint of objectivity predi
cated on the privileged position of the absolute spectator must be relinquished,"
Denzin writes (1991: xi) (emphasis added). Denzin concedes that his social
location has determined whatever insights he may have about the world. Like
any other observer, his perception of the world is framed by social and cultural
variables, and we are to assess his critique of contemporary society with full
appreciation that his insights are a function of his point of contact with the
subject matter (1991: xi). How Denzin came upon this objective insight about
the subjective nature of all perception is left to our imaginations. Perhaps there
is more to the issue of objectivity after all. At any rate, we may question why
Denzin would assume readers would be interested in his subjective musings
about postmodern "reality." By his own admission, Denzin's rendition of a
postmodern world resonates only with those whose locations are similar to his
own. His relevance is cirumscribed, substantially so, as only those situated as
he is could appreciate his take on the world. And we might expect a certain
humility to issue from his concession that we see through the glass darkly. If
we acknowledge perceptual subjectivity our assertions about reality would be
coached accordingly, that is, as tentative observations forever subject to change,
as observations whose veracity is to be held in doubt. But anyone familiar with
Denzin's prose style cannot help but be taken by the confidence and utter
certainty with which he professes his truths. There is nothing about Denzin's
voice that admits to perceptual subjectivity. There is nothing tentative about his
prose. Simply put, he makes his case in a language that does not admit ambigu
ity. In Images of Postmodern Society Denzin boldly proclaims that his theory
will expose "the oppressive limitations to freedom that flow from the current
contradictions" that mark our capitalist system (1991: xi). Denzin is only too
sure that these limitations to freedom exist, only too sure that he has the per
ceptual powers to expose them, and only too sure that freedom is a self
evident good.
"Science is always mythic," Denzin announces, and "always [has been] ideo
logical. Being empirical has always been the veil that scientists have stood
behind as they conduct their oral, mythic enterprises." (emphasis mine) (1992:
159) This does not deter Denzin from using science to pronounce on profound
problems of order and meaning. The "mythic enterprise" Denzin condemns in
particular is the fiction that "ultimate, final truths" exist, which he attributes to
the "cultural logics of late capitalism." (1992: 169) He notes approvingly that
interactionists have long been skeptical of people who present themselves as
scientists, especially totalizing scientists, largely because scientists are pre
sumed to manipulate the citizenry in accordance with political ideology (1992:
24). Science, in other words, has been seen as the handmaiden of the State.
Surprisingly, Denzin takes this critical skepticism and turns it on interactionists
themselves, claiming that they have become that which they have historically
condemned. In other words, through Denzin's critical lens, interactionists are

Abbott 59

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
"voyeurs" who have "perpetuated the illusion that the scientific gaze is politi
cally neutral and really beneficial to all." (1992: 169) Interactionists were de
luded in thinking they were "keeping the sacred safe from and for the public ..."
(1992: 168) ; they were deluded in assuming their sociological knowledge
would further the cause of democratic society. Their gaze has all along been
self-serving, he suggests, and what is more, it has unwittingly contributed to our
"surveillance society." (1992: 169) Denzin concludes his critique by declaring
that interactionists "have contributed to an opiate of the masses." (1992: 168)
Denzin argues his case with great passion. His passion can be understood as
a function of his value commitments?his notion of the good in light of which
he identifies and condemns the many ills of American society. Denzin calls for
a more "humane" postmodern society (1992: 167). He urges a political commit
ment to "merge the worlds of theory with the worlds of practice" so that this
more humane society will come into being (1992: xvii). He does not equivocate
in calling for a political commitment. But it is not at all clear what Denzin has in
mind by a more humane world, and what is more, his basis for political commit
ment is not at all self-evident. Identifying with the oppressed and downtrod
den, the historical commitment of interactionists, is central to Denzin's vision;
aside from this we have little else, save the admonition that we are to remove
our "masks." What will issue from the removal of masks is unclear. What will be
revealed once our masks are discarded is likewise unclear. Perhaps it will make
us more humane, whatever that might mean; perhaps, as Denzin suggests, we
will shed our taken-for-granted ideologies. What then? As Denzin would have
it, everything is ideology, including, we may assume, his historical commitment
to the downtrodden. In Denzin's world one bias is shed for another.
Elsewhere Denzin laments that in our postmodern world images have ob
scured reality (1991). Following Finkelstein (1991), Denzin claims the self has
been lost in a barrage of images that have no foundation. He claims we have
become the pictures of self that have been manufactured for our consuming
pleasure. Denzin calls on us to find an "essential humanity in a forest of signs
which deal only in reflections (1991: 18)." He asks that we peel away the
artificial in order to reclaim the authentic. Denzin wants to unearth what is
really real about self and society. But here he finds himself in a similar predica
ment. The reality Denzin yearns to reclaim is a reality denied by his social
constructionist premise. Denzin begins with the premise that all "reality" is an
image, constructed through interpretive processes and the manipulations of
symbols and signs; the same holds for the self. There is no essential reality and
no essential self to retrieve as realities and selves are nothing but the images
we make them out to be through interaction. Denzin no doubt prefers his
images to those manufactured by late capitalism. But by assuming there is no
reality as such, Denzin undermines his critique of the "reality" he finds so
objectionable. He forfeits the ground on which substantive critique can lay
claim to legitimacy. The constructivist premise places realities on the same
evaluative plane, as it were, precluding reasoned criticism of any one of them.
In this context it is worth mentioning Patricia Hill Collins's essay "The Social
Construction of Black Feminist Thought" (1989). Collins follows Mannheim in
proposing the existential determination of thought. Knowledge and its valida
tion are reflections of the interests of their creators. This premise, which we

60 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
may attribute ultimately to Nietsczhe, is as true for "white masculinist" social
thought as it is "black feminist" social thought. Each knowledge system issues
from a location or "standpoint," and each knowledge system vies for dominance
in political rather than scientific terms. Collins argues that historically the white
masculinist notion of knowledge and its validation has been dominant. Conse
quently, the standpoint of the black feminist, and for that matter any other
standpoint that is non-white and non-masculine, and the knowledge produced
by these existential locations, have been suppressed. Hill clearly desires an
the end to this suppression. She advocates the ascendancy of the black
feminist voice that has long been silenced by the white masculinist. Such
advocacy, however, can aspire for nothing more than an inversion of the
current political arrangement, according to which black feminist social thought
would suppress the white masculinist. It can only be so. Black feminist
social thought, rooted as it is in a "location," is no more "valid" than any
other, and no less self-interested in the game of political power. And the
same kind of end would obtain if we followed Laurel Richardson's admonition
to level the voice of scientific authority and grant all voices the epistemological
status "science" currently enjoys. Richardson advocates the empowerment of a
multiplicity of voices. But if all voices are presumed legitimate none can be
true.6 Besides, with a cacophony of voices it is difficult to hear, much less
learn, from any single one of them. The historicist premises held by the likes of
Denzin, Hill or Richardson deny the ground to justify the kind of value judg
ments and value initiatives about which they are so passionate. It is suggestive
of our present confusion regarding value that someone like Hill can in one
breadth demonstrate fluency in the leveling language of postmodernism and be
a fervent champion of human rights, without ever recognizing how the former
position undermines the latter, framing the rhetoric of rights as little more than
political posturing in the drama of control and domination. In other words, the
means Hill and others use to deconstruct the claims of science preclude a
constructivist theory arising from the rubble. (On this point see also Antonio
1991; Imber 1990)
To be fair, Denzin no doubt feels that his more humane society would be free
of ideological obfuscation, and that there is something to the self that is not
manufactured. And Collins no doubt feels that there is something more to black
feminist thought than the will to power. I doubt they could be the impassioned
critics they are without believing this to be so. They are, however, speaking in
two voices. This is particularly characteristic of Denzin's work. Of a more
engaged political interactionism Denzin writes:
the ethical standards for acting are not given by some ultimate, final, external source (religion,
politics, philosophy, or science). Individuals create their own values through action and by
assuming full responsibility for the consequences of their conduct. (1992: 161)

One wonders if Denzin is truly willing to allow individuals to create their


own values and their own ethical standards. This would demand of him a
radical tolerance of all value systems, an attitude belied by his censorious
voice. Again, Denzin's defense of a good, however ill-defined it is, indicates
that he is willing to take his analysis only so far. He is clearly intolerant of value
systems that run counter to his own, regardless of how they were created, and

Abbott 61

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
no matter how willingly social actors assumed responsibility for their behavior.
He is a nihilist until his nihilism hits home.
And on the subject of "consequences," and our assuming responsibility for
our conduct, one wonders how Denzin can substantiate his premise. How else
do social actors come to identify the consequences of their action were it not
for some evaluative standard(s) external to the individual? One can scarcely
conceive of assuming responsibility for one's conduct apart from the evaluative
standards against which behavior is evaluated and consequences become real.
How else are consequences determined? By individual fiat? Denzin seems to
advocate a world in which individuals assess their behavior in light of criteria
each individual has made up. If this romantic notion were so, ours would be a
brave new world indeed, a world in which no one faces the consequences of
her/his conduct as everyone is free of the external criteria that allow for the
evaluation of behavior in the first place?criteria that give shape and weight to
responsibility. If Denzin's position is taken to its logical conclusion, our con
demnation of any behavior, or our demand that certain individuals assume
responsibility for their conduct, is illegitimate. A racist, for example, having
established his own values, and in his own way facing the consequences of his
action, has satisfied Denzin's definition of a moral actor. To charge this indi
vidual with ignorance, or better yet, with violating certain rights, is, if we take
Denzin at his word, inappropriate. Denzin's radical moral individualism pre
cludes moral evaluation.
In sum, Denzin is the kind of sociologist who presumes to see through the
glass clearly as he claims that everyone else sees through the glass darkly; the
kind of sociologist who devalues visions of the good(s), and is plainly dismiss
ive of "final, ultimate" truths, as he makes one value judgment after another and
champions his own ultimate truth, however vague and ambiguous it is; the kind
of sociologist whose explanations are profoundly evaluative despite his as
sumption that all evaluation is ideological. Stephen Salkever (1990: 13-56),
following Strauss, would see Denzin as continuing the ancient tradition of func
tional explanation, or in Aristotelian terms, explanation from final causes while
denying the possibility of final causes. In other words, however "historical"
Denzin's voice may be, he is at the same time committed to an Aristotelian
teleology, as he is forever locating and thus evaluating particulars in light of
ends, universals or forms. Denzin's voice, then, subtly acknowledges that stan
dards might exist, acknowledges that not all values are emergent and equal, and
acknowledges that not all science is ideological. Unfortunately, Denzin does not
listen to this voice. He does not listen to his sense of the Aristotelian "final causes"
in terms of which his evaluative explanations are set forth. He hears only his
"historical" voice. But he cannot have things both ways. He cannot speak in these
voices without appearing contradictory. If science and its practitioners are al
ways ideological, the same holds for Denzin; we have no reason to presume his
voice more authoritative than, for example, the postmodern capitalists he rou
tinely skewers. By establishing the relativity of all value systems, and by fram
ing value systems as veils concealing self-interest, Denzin implicates?and
lowers?his own voice. Much the same can be said for Steven Seidman.
Seidman's essay "The End of Sociological Theory: The Postmodern Hope"
(1991) is in large part a reaction against the alleged "scientism" that has com

62 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
promised sociological theory and that has caused theorists to lose their way.
Theorists, animated by the "absurd claim to speak the Truth," and believing
themselves in possession of an "epistemically privileged discourse," have dis
engaged sociology from the "conflicts and public debates" that nourished the
discipline in the past (1991: 131). Indeed, in failing to recognize the will to
power driving their "value-neutral" sociology, theorists have been unwitting
contributors to the kinds of problems Seidman is interested in redressing. Seidman
urges sociologists to abandon the quest for foundations and totalizing formula
tions?to abandon, in effect, sociological theory?and embrace what he calls
"social theory." Social theory is a grounded, that is, a contextual moral narrative,
stripped of any and all false millennial hope for the great transformation. Social
theory is realistic, we are told. Its more modest aspiration lies in a "relentless
defense of immediate, local pleasures and struggles for justice." (1991: 131) In
short, Seidman calls on sociologists to eschew the Idea of Progress so that we
may progress little by little, community by community.
Seidman probably inflates the influence of value-neutral sociologists and the
"grand theory" they weave. Parsons, after all, has been intellectually dead for
some time, although there are signs of a revival. Furthermore, I don't think the
kind of scientism that so infuriates Seidman is characteristic of sociology since
the 1960's and the generation influenced by C. Wright Mills. And his charging
modernists, among them Max Weber and Karl Marx, with "ignoring actual com
plex conflicts and power dynamics " and being "grossly" simplistic, strikes me
as rather simplistic in itself (1991: 140). I don't know who is more naive, Marx,
for thinking industrial capitalism would transform the world in its own image, or
Seidman, for claiming that this was merely a manifestation of Marx's eurocentric
bias. At any rate, Seidman's critique of foundationalism and totalizing theory
unfolds in familiar ways. He posits the radical particularity of social life. Cul
tural locations are prisms through which we understand our particular worlds,
not one of which could be deployed in the analysis of worlds other than our
own (1991: 134). This basic historicist assumption as to the historical nature of
all knowledge is an assumption presumed to transcend history. In advancing a
universal truth to the effect that universal truths do not exist, Seidman's anti
foundationalism is, like Denzin's, rather foundational.
On the subject of foundationalism Seidman invokes as well the Nietzschean
premise that claims to truth are manifestations of the will to power, that the
scientific discourse itself is a means of domination. Seidman is not shy in pro
claiming this truth. "Once the veil of epistemic privilege is torn away by
postmodernists, " Seidman writes, "science appears as a social force enmeshed
in particular cultural and power struggles. The claim to truth ... is inextricably
an act of power?a will to form humanity." (1991: 134-135) Seidman sees
through all things to reveal nothing but the struggle for power and domination.
Not surprisingly, however, Seidman does not choose to understand his own
discourse in these terms. He assumes as a matter of course that his own voice is
differently inclined. We are told that his partisanship, his "foundation" if you
will, is enlightened by virtue of the fact that his social and moral discourse is
"elaborated" (1991: 143).7 This kind of "partisanship," conceding as it does the
possibility of enlightened (and less than enlightened) discourse, sounds vaguely
Aristotelian, a paradox indeed as Seidman would be the first to distance himself

Abbott 63

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
from the evaluative tradition Aristotle partly inspired. (More on this below.)
Suffice for now that Seidman would have us believe he enjoys immunity from
Nietzsche's verdict, that his own truth claims, rather than ammunition in the
drama that is class, gender and race domination, are sincere, or at any rate are
more solidly grounded. No doubt they are. But to concede this is to reject
Seidman's premise and with it his argument on the saliency of "social theory."
Seidman wants his postmodern social theory to move the focus of discourse
from "Truth and abstract rationality to that of social and intellectual conse
quences" (1991: 137). It is not entirely clear what Seidman means by conse
quences, and how we are to identify and evaluate specific consequences for
given populations. Seidman advocates a "pragmatic, socially informed moral
analysis" (1991: 142). Any moral analysis, though, must respect the temporal
and spatial boundaries of the cultures at issue (1991: 138). Moral criticism, in
other words, can be justified only by an appeal to local values or traditions
(1991: 142). We cannot judge communities in light of universalistic standards or
in universalistic terms. Given the radical particularity of culture, concepts such
as "humanity" have no currency for Seidman. Terms such as "women" and
"black" are likewise inappropriate and not at all fruitful. In short, our particular
istic focus should be matched by particularistic judgments of particularistic
peoples.
Yet Seidman does not follow his own admonition. As Seidman claims that
social critics cannot appeal to transcendent or universal moral standards, he
condemns those who are partisans of "closure and orthodoxy," those who do
not stand firmly for equality and openness (1991: 142-143). In virtually the
same breath, then, Seidman invokes the universal standard of equality and
freedom as he disputes the existence of universals. In a remarkable example,
Seidman suggests that feminist critics should "appeal to local traditions, prac
tices, and values to justify"a culture's movement to more "freedom and equal
ity" (1991: 143). Clearly, though, there exist cultures for which no such appeals
can be made. Certain values, practices and traditions do not resonate with the
"universal" good Seidman urges feminists to advance. If we are to be sensitive
to the spatial and temporal boundaries of local cultures, as Seidman demands, if
our criticism can be defended only through local appeals, how do we justify
lecturing the Amish, for example, or the Catholic Church, on the problems of
closure and orthodoxy?8
Seidman, like Denzin, speaks in two voices and hears only one of them. The
"historical" voice is heard; he is deaf to the Aristotelian. Naturally, and also like
Denzin, his voice advocating a human good is not well developed; he makes
no reasoned case for his teleology. In other words, Seidman's "open and em
powered" social world and Denzin's "humane postmodern society" are as
sumed, prima facie goods. What these goods look like, not to mention why they
are presumed goods in the first place, is left to our imaginations. More impor
tant, Seidman does not consider the ends such openness and empowerment
would serve should they be realized. The active pursuit of openness and em
powerment is one thing; what we do with these things quite another. Put
differently, openness and empowerment speak more to means or processes?
movement, if you will?rather than ends or destinations. Perhaps Seidman as
sumes the higher good served by such hard-won freedom is self-evident. Per

64 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
haps he assumes that movement itself will suffice, that a relentless activism is
intrinsically meaningful. It may very well be, notwithstanding the substantial
arguments to the contrary, not least of which was Tolstoy's. The point is that this
human good needs to be brought to light. A case should be made in its defense.
We cannot and should not simply assume it to be so.

Leo Strauss and Modernist Sociologies

Sociologists committed to science and the modern project, that is, sociologists
who remain animated by positivist assumptions, may regard the problems and
inconsistencies that beset Denzin and Seidman as peculiar to "postmodern"
sociology. In Strauss's view this would be a mistake. These problems and
inconsistencies are characteristic of sociological work as a whole. As we have
seen, Strauss claimed that positivists would ultimately concede a postmodern
sensibility given that the questions they pose and the concepts they use are
subjective and historical. Thus the value-driven works of Robert Bellah and
Immanuel Wallerstein, for example, are likewise unable to make sense of value
and unable to justify our commitment to their notions of the good. Even the reso
lutely value-neutral work of a Jeffrey C. Alexander is communicated in a value
laden language that cannot give an accounting of itself. As Strauss argued long ago
whether positivist or idealist, sociologists operate within the broad parameters of
the "historical sense," and as such have forever struggled with their own voice.
Bellah does not hesitate to use sociology as a moral medium. He is truly a
kind of preacher in the tradition of prophetic American Protestantism. In Habits
of the Heart (1985) and The Good Society (1992), for example, Bellah and his
colleagues diagnose a cultural malaise at the center of which lies a wayward
individualism animated by the emptiness of material success (utilitarian), or an
individualism lost in a hedonistic display of convulsive self-obsession (expres
sive). These individualisms have eroded community by compromising the nec
essary commitments on which community depends. Estranged from the com
munities that nurture the self, indifferent to the plight of one's fellows, and
focused for the most part on their narrow self-interest, many Americans find
themselves enfeebled, unable to make sense of a world in which vast corporate
power and distant political authority have given a lie to the individualistic spirit
long assumed to bring happiness.
Bellah proposes a revival of sorts to right the time that is out of joint. He
urges a rejuvenation of certain "republican" and "biblical" cultural traditions,
traditions that had once given shape and direction to American individualism
but are now dormant thanks to the corrupting influence of an unprincipled and
voracious capitalism. These traditions, according to Bellah, framed the self as
contingent on community. The self was free insofar as s/he participated in an
ethical community, and free insofar as s/he stood with others as equals in the
governance of this community. Revival of these traditions, Bellah holds, would
make for a more connected, inclusive and caring world. It is only within these
traditions that our individualism has a center of gravity; it is only through these
traditions that our individualism has meaning.
Like Denzin and Seidman, Bellah is passionate in his advocacy. His passion is
fueled by the urgency of the crisis he examines and the deep respect he

Abbott 65

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
harbors for the traditions he assumes will bring coherence to a culturally con
fused world. However real is this crisis, and however much we might share
Bellah's diagnosis, what is of concern here is the ground on which Bellah
justifies our commitment to the traditions he champions. Bellah does not argue,
at least not explicitly, that these "traditions" speak to a natural good and are
therefore worthy of commitment. He does not argue they represent and/or
reference transcendent and timeless values. Bellah's egalitarian and relativistic
sensibilities preclude him from advancing these traditions as goods as such. To
assume these traditions as goods as such would be ethnocentric. And ethnocen
trism, creating as it does an "other," violates the cultural inclusivity he is desper
ate to affect. As Bellah's premises establish these traditions as two among
countless in our own culture and throughout the world, we are asked to commit
to these traditions because they signify what America aspired to be long ago
and because we are all Americans. They are our traditions, or at least were.
One may question this foundation for commitment. To begin, the traditions
Bellah advocates would seem more a function of his own convictions than the
legacy of biblical and republican America. I doubt John Winthrop, presumed
paragon of the biblical, and Thomas Jefferson, paragon of the republican, would
recognize themselves as the egalitarian, caring figures dedicated to inclusivity
that Bellah makes them out to be. Bellah has transformed these historical fig
ures according to his own sensitivities. Besides, the argument can be made that
the individualism Bellah finds so destructive was catalyzed by the very tradi
tions he upholds, a paradox that Tocqueville anticipated most forcefully in
Volume II of his classic work Democracy in America (1990), which Edward
Shils (1978) would later call the antinomies of liberalism, and which E. Digby
Baltzeil (1979) would demonstrate abundantly in his Tocqueville-inspired analysis
of Quaker Philadelphia. Be that as it may, by Bellah's own admission, we know
that these traditions could not withstand the forces of wayward individualism,
whatever was its inspiration, the first time around. Why he assumes they would
function effectively today is unclear. Thus on purely instrumental grounds we
have reason to doubt the efficacy of tradition.
More importantly, it would seem that "tradition" is the principle criterion in
light of which we are asked to justify commitment. That they are or were our
traditions is reason enough to revive them. We needn't mention Strauss's point,
inspired by Nietzsche, that Bellah's historicist premise assumes the relativity of
all traditions, which deprecates each and every one of them, eroding the basis
for commitment. If the biblical and republican traditions are two among many,
and if we are to judge neither as superior to any other, why should we judge
these special? How can we justify our commitment if the traditions in question
are historical artifacts and have no intrinsic worth? How do we come to appre
ciate something that admittedly has no value apart from time and space?
And we needn't mention that according to this criterion for commitment we
might as well seek a revival of the tradition of slavery, which after all was
defended on biblical grounds and protected by the republic's constitution; like
wise the tradition that framed females in the ages of Winthrop and Jefferson as
chattel. If "tradition" is reason enough for commitment, any tradition should
suffice, insofar as it promises to curb the individualism that threatens our soci
ety. Why Bellah expects us to esteem the republican and biblical rather than

66 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
the traditions of South America or Asia, for example, or any other culture that
emphasizes the collective over the individual, is unknown. In sum, if tradition
as such warrants our commitment, any tradition and therefore no single tradition
can command our respect.
Clearly few people, least of all Bellah, would support the revival of slavery
or patriarchy to fix the time that is out of joint. The point I wish to make here is
one I alluded to above: Bellah's embrace of American traditions is selective. He
sees in the past what he wishes to see. This allows Bellah to couch his personal
convictions in the imagery of history for the purpose of persuading others of
his meliorist project. In so doing, he relieves himself of the heavy burden of
making a case for the good he advances, a case that would claim this good as a
good as such. Bellah's "tradition," in other words, becomes the veil beneath
which personal commitments are advanced. I do not impugn Bellah's motives
here. I mean only to make note of his conflicted voice and how Strauss would
see Bellah undermining his "good" by the historicist manner in which it is
conceived and asserted. Simply put, Bellah's selectivity betrays value commit
ments for which he does not and cannot make a case because they are value
commitments which are not altogether consistent with his egalitarian and rela
tivistic premises. He therefore must resort to painting his value commitments as
central to American traditions. In the end, his examinations of the empirical
world are profoundly evaluative, but he forfeits the ground on which his evalu
ation may claim authority.
Bellah is speaking in two voices, much like Denzin and Seidman. His con
flicted voice is softer than the postmodernists, but it can still be heard. His
historical voice is betrayed by an Aristotelian, a voice that suggests there is
something more to these traditions than simply tradition, that these are indeed
goods as such. Just as we surmised that Denzin and Seidman assumed their
"goods" to have a more solid grounding than simple will to power, I submit that
Bellah feels that there is something transhistorical about the traditions he advo
cates. His passion alone suggests same, and I take his selective reading of the
past as supporting evidence of this view. But as long as he cleaves to historicist
assumptions, as long as he surrenders value to history, Bellah's voice will
remain conflicted. He cannot justify his vision of the good insofar as this vision
is understood in purely historicist terms.
Immanuel Wallerstein, a sociologist whose ideological sensitivities depart
from Bellah's, can be viewed as similarly conflicted. As a follower of Marx,
Wallerstein leaves little doubt as to where his value commitments lie. Moving
the conceptual focus from the inequalities of the nation-state to the vast and
striking inequity of the world system, Wallerstein's work can be read as a
passionate plea for justice in the now post-colonial, post-imperial world. Justice
of course is understood in egalitarian terms and realized through a socialist
order global in scope. Wallerstein's empirical work has produced an abundant
number of facts in support of his world systems theory. And he clearly believes
that the accumulation of facts must have moral application. In other words,
sociology as an empirical science must be oriented to value; our facts must
speak to some notion of a good.
Unlike the postmodernists, then, Wallerstein assumes that reality can be sensed
through the scientific method and that facts can be established objectively

Abbott 67

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
(Seidman 1998: 329-336). And unlike the positivists, he does not believe a
value-free social science is possible or desirable. Consistent with the
postmodernists, however, Wallerstein rejects the notion that value may have a
reasoned basis and that there is something to value beyond personal prefer
ence. As he noted, "[E]very choice of conceptual framework is a political
option. Every assertion of 'truth,' even if one qualified it as transitory truth, or
heuristic theory, is an assertion of value. All good scholarship is polemical
(1979: 10)." (Emphasis added) This concession would appear to compromise
Wallerstein's objectives. If conceptual frameworks are here understood as "po
litical," one may question the objectivity of the "facts" these frameworks un
earth. That is, assuming Wallerstein's conceptual framework is a political ges
ture, a function of his own preferences, so too are the facts he uses to push his
agenda, as such facts are contingent on the conceptual world view at hand. Not
only does Wallerstein deprecate his value commitments (after all, it is but an
"option"), he undermines his commitment to empirical sociology. He cannot
divorce the objective and subjective elements of his social science. As Strauss
put it, given that Wallerstein is "unwilling to admit timeless values," preferring
instead to frame value as a personal option, his sociology "is superseded by
"historical studies" and indeed becomes an historical artifact. (Strauss 1959: 26)
To state the matter differently, Wallerstein's historicist concession undermines
the highest aims to which his sociological advocacy is directed. Alexander
would seem to have a similar problem.
The point of departure for Alexander's "Modern, Anti, Post, and Neo: How
Intellectuals Have Coded, Narrated, and Explained the New World of Our
Time"(1995) was his alarm over postmodern efforts to dismiss the modern
project by casting reason as contextual and relativistic. These efforts came in
the wake of a conceited effort to denigrate what was known as modernization
theory. Led principally by figures such as Wallerstein and Anthony Giddens,
modernization theory was effectively dismissed some two decades ago as little
more than conservative ideology. Proponents of modernization theory, among
them Alex Inkeles and Talcott Parsons, were cast as eurocentric sociologists
who had a stake in the west's domination of the globe, a charge that had been
leveled a few years before by Alvin Gouldner (1970).
In light of these movements in the discipline, one might think that the mod
ern is long dead. Alexander contends, however, that the postmodern tempera
ment is on the wane, and in recent years we have witnessed a revival of the
modernization theory Giddens and Wallerstein were certain was mere ideology.
What Alexander claims is emerging is a more sophisticated rendition of mod
ernization theory, one that even Giddens seems to have embraced. Yet it is
unclear whether this sophistication is empirical or normative in nature. In
Alexander's writing we are never sure when the facts end and value begins. In
fact, we are instructed that sociological work is both "scientific theory and
ideology ..." (1995: 13). (This may help us understand why it is difficult to
discern in his writing when facts end and value begins.) By ideology Alexander
means symbolization, or how societies make sense of themselves and how they
motivate behavior in the present and future. The symbolic system is contextual;
it arises out of specific circumstances and vies with other symbolic systems for
dominance. Theory, then, is myth making, much like a history that defines as

68 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
much as understands a people. Two decades ago Wallerstein and Giddens
controlled symbolization: liberal democracy, universalism, individualism, and
the free market were discredited. They became seen as illusionary and as tools
in the drama that is superordination and subordination. This was not an empiri
cal issue. According to Alexander, the decisive reason for modernization theory's
"defeat was the destruction of its ideological, discursive, and mythological
core."(1995: 21) Not science but more effective symbolization sealed its fate
(1995: 21). But modernization theory today is poised to assume its former
dominance, thanks in large part to the failure of communism and the discreditation
of both the old and new left intelligentsia. Democracy and its "substantive
embodiments," Alexander notes, have emerged victorious in the battle of sym
bolization.
It is fair to say that Alexander's sympathies rest with the modern. He is
critical of postmodernism and he is critical of the kind of leftist sociology
practiced by Giddens and Wallerstein (both of whom are subject to almost
caustic criticism in this essay). But given his claim that theory is in part myth
making, Alexander's sympathies, like Bellah's and Wallerstein's, not to mention
Seidman's and Denzin's, are a function of personal preference and cannot be
defended on reasoned grounds. Alexander cannot claim immunity from his own
verdict. His theory aspires to myth making, no less than Giddens and others
with whom he finds fault.

Leo Strauss and Evaluative Explanation:


The Good as Such and a Hierarchy of Value

This brief review of selected works by diverse sociologists is I think sugges


tive of a general problem in our discipline: We pursue, often times passion
ately, assumed, rather than argued, goods or standards, from historicist premises
that deny the existence of goods and standards. Regardless of orientation, mod
ern or postmodern, liberal or conservative, sociologists advance notions of the
good and at the same time deny that genuine knowledge of the good is pos
sible. In Mary Midgley's (1978) view, a certain hypocrisy is at work here: We
presume not to know anything important about value, but then proceed to
pronounce on matters of profound importance. "The hypocrisy of past ages,"
Midgley wrote, "was usually classical and dogmatic, the hypocrisy of this age is
romantic and skeptical. We pretend not to know (1978: 26l)." While I would
caution against the charge of hypocrisy, there is something to be taken from
Midgley's point. The position advocated by Seidman, for example, namely that
sociologists must consider value systems of specific cultural locales on their
own terms, is belied once we are confronted with a locale whose values we
find disagreeable. Similarly, Denzin's value-creating actors are tolerated as long
as their values are consistent with what Denzin regards as a humane society.
The same can be said of Bellah, who presumes to know something substan
tively important about American individualism. Likewise Wallerstein and
Alexander, who advance goods only to deny themselves the authority to do so.
In each case evaluation is presumed impossible and indeed inappropriate until
such time as certain localities and certain actors go beyond the boundaries. In
each case the presumption not to know is a veil concealing deep-seated con

Abbott 69

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
viciions as to what ought to be. And we may speculate that implicit to their
impassioned critique of social locales/actors, and indeed the very inspiration of
their critique, is their sense that these deep-seated convictions as to what ought
to be are in accordance with nature rather than convention. Sociologists who
advocate "empowerment" or "equality" or "freedom" or "modernization" or
"republican tradition" do so not because these are the values of a particular
cultural locale. We know too well how our conventions have violated these
"ends." Rather, such advocacy may stem ultimately from what sociologists are
loathe to admit, that these ends are consistent with nature, and if we are to live
in accordance with nature we must make the kinds of choices consistent with
these ends.
It is tempting to conclude from this that sociology is nothing but ideology,
and that all scientific claims are indeed assertions of power. We simply gather
data to support our biases in order to gain advantage in the world. We are all
myth makers. The moral rhetoric of the Denzins, Seidmans, et al, is the means
deployed to establish position. It is their "capital" with which others are subor
dinated. Tenure and promotion, security and prestige, and sometimes institu
tional power, are our rewards. It is tempting, in other words, to surrender to the
radical skepticism characteristic of much of postmodernism. Strauss, however,
refused to submit to such skepticism and chose instead to listen to those voices
neither Denzin nor Seidman, neither Bellah, Wallerstein nor Alexander, could
hear.
To make sense of our present confusion, Strauss returned to the era during
which modern philosophy, and by extension modern social science, was born.
He returned, in other words, to the era in which ancient philosophy was aban
doned in favor of the new and ever-promising science with which we wrestle
today. He argued that the crisis of modern liberalism could be understood as the
culmination of a long and complex intellectual process that was initiated by
Machiavelli and which found its final expression in Nietzsche's historicism. At
the center of this process was modern philosophy's conflation of the real and
the ideal as it sought to manufacture a world free of the contingencies and
uncertaincies, conflicts and turmoil that plagued the ancients as they quested
for virtue. This process unfolded in "waves." Machiavelli's radical departure
from the ancients was followed by Hobbes, whose On the Citizen refashioned
On the Prince as a paradigm of possibility for society as a whole; the teachings
of Locke were likewise marked by the collapse of the real and ideal, according
to which the good of society was associated with material comfort; and Rousseau,
in his own distinct way, followed suit. If the good of society is expressed
through the general will, virtue becomes immanent, rather than transcendent,
something we do not quest for, but something of which we are already in
possession.
Modern philosophy was undersood as having expanded human possibility.
The moderns liberated energy for the purposes (and promise) of controlling
circumstance, and with control at hand there was purportedly no end to human
progress. Paradoxically, however, Strauss judged this expansion of possibility to
be at the same time a lowering of human horizons. Life's possibilities may have
increased, but human aspiration was levelled.9 More importantly, Strauss claimed
that the efforts to control conditions, to more effectively manage life processes,

70 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
came at the expense of the higher ideals such control would normally serve
and in terms of which such processes were evaluated.10 In due course this
undermined the voices of moderns and concealed from their view the referents
over and above the here and now that permit the evaluation of social phenom
ena. Thus did modern philosophy culminate in the historicism of a Nietzsche
whereby assertions of truths are identical with assertions of power and ques
tions of value are reframed as preferences without foundation. In Strauss's
view, such was the fate of moderns whose desire to control conditions denied
them the basis to account for their own voice and justify their relentless activ
ism by pronouncing intelligibly on the ultimate value of their conduct (1953;
1959; 1968).
In the collapse of the distinction between the real and the ideal we discern
the roots of the divorce of philosophy from the social (and physical/natural)
sciences. This divorce functioned to divide intellectual labor, as it were, with
philosophy addressing questions of value while the social sciences presumed
to speak to facts. (Philosophy Departments were clearly the losers.) This di
vorce, however, is by nature impossible. Evaluation cannot be separated from
examination. For this reason, as I have noted, did Strauss advocate a return to
the philosophic life the moderns had rejected. He upheld a life spent in con
templation of the good, as he believed that knowledge of the good was not
only possible but necessary. To assume otherwise would mean his surrender to
nihilism, or so he believed. To assume otherwise would be tantamount to
conceding that history?and society?is a tale told by an idiot, and that rational
inquiry can play no role in guiding human affairs. "If there is no standard higher
than the ideal of our society," he once wrote, "we are utterly unable to take a
critical distance from that ideal. But the mere fact that we can raise the question
of the worth of the ideal of our society shows that there is something in man
that is not altogether in slavery to his society ..." (1953: 3).
Strauss sought to exhume the classical tradition, or philosophy as originally
intended, for the purpose of creating that vital "critical distance." He worked
his way back to Plato and Aristotle through Maimonides and Farabi. The Islamic
and Judaic traditions, rooted as they are in law, could not assimilate philosophy.
Consequently, philosophic inquiry went underground, as it were, articulated in
the form of esoteric writing. Philosophic inquiry maintained its edge, and in
particular its sensitivity to the tensions between reason and revelation, the city
and philosophy, a sensitivity that was lost when the Christian tradition, moored
not in law but in faith, embraced philosophy as inquiry into the whole.11 Thus
Strauss was not among those who interpreted classical philosophy as dedicated
to the discovery of an absolute perspective from which life came into focus. To
judge Plato, Socrates or Aristotle in this way, according to Strauss, is to read
them through the prism of modern philosophy, specifically the modern desire
for certainty and control. Nor was Strauss the kind of conservative academic
who judged the classic texts to have scriptural authority. Again, this sort of
reverence betrays classical philosophers, who were, after all, rather forthcom
ing on the ambiguities and contingencies that mark rational inquiry. For Strauss,
philosophy reminds us that rationality is not a means to achieve goals but an
activity. Rationality is inquiry into particular events and things as they relate to
universals or ends. These universals do not create rules or standards of conduct.

Abbott 71

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Nor do they resolve the tensions and contradictions of social life. As Salkever
(1990) reminds us, gods establish such rules and standards; gods resolve such
tensions and contradictions. For Strauss the tension between reason and revela
tion is to be preserved as intrinsic to it is the very possibility for truth (See
Zuckert 1996: 169-200). Rational inquiry into these tensions is the means by
which this is done.12 Rational inquiry is prefatory; it does not make choices
for us, but provides the means with which to speak intelligibly on the issues
we confront as members of the polis. "It does not promise answers or
solutions to the perennnial fundamental problems of human life," wrote
J?rgen Gebhardt, "but brings forth those excellent human qualities that?in
some way?make up the good life; in other words, it has a humanizing effect"
(1995: 84). In this sense, theory becomes a guide rather than a substitute for
practical action.

Conclusion

Strauss would have agreed with Midgley. We pretend not to know. Strauss
was sensitive to voices that pretended not to know even as they passed judg
ment on one or another facet of social life, betraying commitments to evalua
tive explanation all the while rejecting the philosophical world-view on which
such evaluation depends. But the judgments offered stem from a maze of
assumptions only rarely given the light of day. They tend not to spring from
reasoned argument. In other words, we gather facts to support assumed rather
than argued value commitments, all concealed by the veil of science. Thus
sociologists find themselves vulnerable to the charges that their investigations
of social life and their endless gathering of data serve little but their ideological
commitments or their material well-being. Or, similarly, sociologists are vulner
able to the charge that they fiddle while Rome burns, creating little but confu
sion by advocating goods beneath the veil of a science that denies the possibil
ity of reasoned discourse on what ought to be. Locating that intellectual space
where collectively validated thought and social relevance can coexist must
begin with exhuming the "ideal" that has long slumbered in the interests of the
"real." We should stop pretending not to know and return to fundamental ques
tions surrounding the good.
I acknowledge that this is a tall order. Clearly, to return to questions of the
good presupposes our concession that there is a good as such, that there exists
something by nature good or right. As I have noted above, sociologists are
loathe to admit anything "natural," perhaps least of all a natural good. We tend
to associate such an assumption with intolerance; besides, to concede that there
exists something intrinsically good or right is to acknowledge a hierarchy of
value, which sociologists are just as loathe to admit ( and quick to condemn as
"elitist"). But as I have also suggested above, many of us seem to be doing just
that, albeit surreptitiously. We acknowledge a vertical ordering of value through
the passion of our advocacy. We are claiming, at least latently, that there is a
good as such and that a hierarchy of value obtains. I needn't mention the
certainty with which sociologists champion the principle of equality, for in
stance. They regard this value orientation as superior to any other, and not
because it is our convention or part of our historical legacy.

72 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
However difficult this may be, I would hope that at the very least we should
pause our endless narrative or predictive studies of human behavior and begin
to reflect critically on our own action. We should think less about the data we
collect, and how we collect them, and more on the ends our data are intended
to serve. We should reflect on our advocacy, latent and manifest, and make
cases for the goods we advance in the guise of science. We should stop fid
dling while Rome burns, all the while ignoring the crisis that threatens the
discipline. A revival of what was once called the Sociology of Sociology would
be a good start.

Notes

Versions of this paper were presented at the 1999 and 2000 annual meetings of the Americ
Sociological Association.

1. A case in point is the recent controversy surrounding the editorship of the American Soc
logical Review. Supporters of the deposed Walter Allen, principal among whom was Joe
Feagin, then President of the American Sociological Association, expressed their disgust ov
the affair in the language of value-relevant sociology, atad they were highly critical of tho
who retreated into value-neutrality and who presumed statistical rigor to be a paragon o
objectivity. Feagin (1999) saw Allen's rejection as a blow to the social agenda he wanted to
advance. He assumed an Allen-led journal would publish the full breadth of sociologi
work. The journal would have become more open, more democratic, and in Feagin's mind
more connected to the pressing moral and practical issues of the day. With Allen's rejectio
however, and with the election of two sociologists from the University of Wisconsin, th
journal would remain aloof from the bulk of sociological activity and aloof from urgent
social and political problems, focused on the accumulation of ever-more facts to the exc
sion of value. Elitism, according to Feagin, won out over egalitarian democracy. Other co
mentators, for example, James Tucker (1999), if not in defense of the decision to oust Alle
took the familiar position that sociology is a science that can speak to facts but not valu
Feagin and his like, according to Tucker, had mistakenly used the discipline to advance the
political agendas. Sociology is a science from which political views cannot be derived
science that cannot shed light on what political orientation we ought to adopt. The time
change, the parameters within which debate unfolds stay essentially the same.
As an aside, it is worth taking a moment and reflecting on Feagin's concern that the gra
getting, fact-gathering, quantitative-oriented value-neutral sociology practiced by the W
consin school and other similarly inclined research traditions do not serve the cause
egalitarian democracy. Feagin may have been better served had he reflected more on the
origins of the quantitative orientation he is so quick to condemn as elitist. The emphasis
quantification was initially egalitarian-driven as it was intended to challenge the hegemo
of what we used to call the "men of letters." The accumulation of facts was infinitely dem
cratic. Anyone could do it. No one needed the kind of training or "cultivation" that was cl
specific and class-protected and that precluded the popular classes from scholarly career
Furthermore, numbers do not discriminate, as words must. Numbers place all things on
horizontal plane; words arrange them hierarchically. It is ironic, then, that the quantitativ
approach Feagin condemns may be more consistent with the egalitarian values Feagin es
pouses. (See Baltzell (1979) for an intriguing analysis of vertical and egalitarian value patter
and their influence on scientific orientation.)
2. Wolfe's intention was to challenge the conviction, widely held by Strauss's students
followers, that Strauss was a liberal defender of liberal democracy. In the course of unma
ing Strauss's alleged anti-democratic orientation, Wolfe unwittingly demonstrated one o
Strauss's critiques of the wayward direction of modern liberalism. Strauss held that mode
philosophy was driven by assumed rather than argued goods, goods that are asserted so
to preclude further discussion thereof. Thus to question the good of material comfort, fo
example, becomes prima facie evidence that one is opposed to progress. Accordingl

Abbott 73

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Wolfe provided his readers with a statement on what liberalism is and how liberals are to
think about the human being. (The statement in question speaks more to a liberalism of the
18th century; Wolfe would be hard pressed today to find "liberals" animated by the notion
that the human being is self-reliant, self-sufficient, innately stable.) Having defined his terms,
Wolfe closed the discussion and asked us to regard Strauss as illiberal: Strauss's orientation
presumably deviates from the stated criteria. This is all quite convenient. Wolfe alone sets the
parameters within which someone is judged liberal, beyond which s/he is assumed illiberal.
He assumes these parameters; he does not argue a case for them. We are asked to assume
along with him. Wolfe is then positioned to dismiss as illiberal anyone who happens to
conceive of liberalism differently than he.
In point of fact, Strauss was critical of our democracy; so too has Alan Wolfe been critical
of our democracy. But to infer from this an anti-democratic spirit is misguided. What drove
Strauss (and what Wolfe refused to take seriously) was the conviction that friends of democ
racy cannot afford to be democracy's flatterers. In this sense Strauss can be compared to
Tocqueville, whose critical analysis of democracy was fueled by his commitment to it. For
discussion of Strauss's place in the ideological debates surrounding democracy and liberal
ism, see Deutsch and Murley 1999; Kielmansegg, Mewes and Glaser-Schmidt 1995: especially
pp. 182-189; and Gunnell 1987; for highly critical readings of Strauss's work and of Straussians,
see Holmes 1993; Drury 1988.
3- Mark Lilla (1998) recently echoed Strauss's reservations in a critical review of recent work by
Jacques Derrida published in The New York Review of Books. Lilla was at a loss to explain how
the postmodern paradigm, despite its illiberal philosophical origins, has assumed the guise
of liberal progressivism. He concluded his review essay,

"... the antihumanism and politics of pure will latent in structuralism and deconstruction
. . . are philosophically and practically incompatible with liberal principles . . . No wonder
a tour through the post-modernist section of any American bookshop is such a disconcert
ing experience. The most illiberal, anti-enlightenment notions are put forward with a smile
and the assurance that, followed out to their logical conclusion, they could only lead us to
the democratic promised land ..."

4. I focus on Denzin and Seidman as I believe their work is representative of the postmodern
orientation under scrutiny in this space. Each is a leader in his particular field and together
they espouse the broad world view that Strauss took to task. I furthermore hold that the
specific works I examine in this space are representative of the authors' oeuvres. I compare
Denzin and Seidman to similarly inclined sociologists, and I refer to other examples of their
published work to augment a point.
5. Derrida cannot explain how it is that language, which presumably relates to nothing, a
language he judges hopelessly obfuscating, is the very language he uses to bring this truth to
light. And how this "truth" can be determined as such, that is, how he substantiates that
which he posits does not exist, is still another mystery.
6. One may compare here Alasdair's Maclntyre's treatment of the alleged cynicism implicit to
the sociology of Erving Goffman (1981: 32-33; 115-116). For Maclntyre, Goffman's self exists
in and through the roles s/he plays; apart from these roles the self does not exist. The self,
then, is contrived, and its endless role-playing is directed toward "success." There are no
objective standards of success or merit, and there exists no "cultural or social space from
which appeal to such standards could be made." Success is part of the contrived social
world as well, and thus what we understand as success or merit is whatever passes as
success or merit. It would be difficult to call Goffman's sociology cynical, Maclntyre con
cluded, for there "can be no such thing as a cynical disregard for objective merit, since there
is no such thing as objective merit for the cynic to disregard." Goffman forfeits the ground
on which to evaluate role-playing actors by framing all role-playing actors as contrived, just
as Denzin precludes objective evaluation of reality by assuming that all realities are con
trived, and just as Collins surrenders evaluative standards by establishing all social thought as
will to power.
7. How very modern this sounds. Seidman betrays here the kind of arrogance typical of the
Enlightenment thinkers he condemns. Seidman has seen the light; all those who came before

74 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
have lived in darkness. And now that the truth has been revealed, real progress (lower case)
can be achieved.
8. Seidman might be the kind of sociologist who champions diversity and multiculturalism as
long as all the diverse groups are alike. Cultural groups not dedicated to liberation and
empowerment, as Seidman understands liberation and empowerment, need to be reformed,
meaning they should conform and become like everybody else.
9. Tocqueville was sensitive to this paradox as well. While democratic cultures encouraged and
extended ambition, cultivating in the minds of citizens what he called a "fugitive ideal" of
perfection, our ambition in democracy was not at all lofty. The ever-receding end of material
comfort?our fugitive ideal?was hardly elevating. See Democacy in America Vol. II (New
York: Vintage Books, 1990), pp. 33-34; p. 243.
10. To put the matter differently, the desire to control conditions virtually silenced serious dis
cussion of the ideals such "control" was to serve. As Salkever (1990) argues, the tradition of
evaluative explanation survived modern philosophy, although in a peculiar way. Hobbes,
for example, by positing the good of "preservation," effectively put an end to further discus
sion of the matter. Hobbes's anti-foundational foundationalism, in other words, begins with
an assumed and singular human need which, once authoritative, becomes immune to criti
cal scrutiny. The same can be said of "profit" or "pleasure" and indeed the goods posited by
Seidman and Denzin.
11. At first glance, one might asume that Pitirim Sorokin's "Integralism" would resonate with
Strauss's project. While it is true that Sorokin was among the few who acknowledged a good
as such, and among the few who sought stable ground on which to base assertions of value,
his project from the Straussian perspective was emblematic of the dilemmas of modern
philosophy. First, Strauss was convinced of the natural tension between reason (Sorokin's
"idealistic" culture) and revelation ( the "ideational"), and that the good life was spent engag
ing this tension rather than seeking its reconciliation (or seeking to simply abolish the tension
by abolishing revelation or religion as moderns were wont to do). Second, Strauss under
stood philosophy as the quest to move from convention (as that which was sensed or as
simply given by revelation) towards the ideal. This was the inquiry into the particular as it
related to ends or forms. Something like the sensate, ideational, and idealistic were not to be
forged ito an organic whole but vertically ordered according to which the philosophic life
was the highest. Finally, Strauss would see Sorokin as following the modern tendency of
deriving a good in and through convention, that is to say, in and through the real, and
thereby surrendering the ground on which to justify commitment. The golden rule is not the
ideal we quest for but something of which we are already in possession, and we value this
rule because of its ubiquity, a kind of morality democratically conceived, which in Strauss's
view consituted unstable ground. (For recent commentary on Sorokin and the promise of
integralism, see Jeffries 1999.)
12. Strauss's position concerning the tension between reason and convention, or Athens and
Jerusalem, is the focus of an essay that follows the present work. I cannot address in depth
here Strauss's concerns over the rule of reason in the world of convention. Suffice that many
critics, in particular sociologists, are alarmed that Strauss judged truths to be unsettling and
that the rule of reason should be couched in the conventions of the time. Strauss is accused
of an elitism that assumes that only certain individuals are capable of assimilating a world
view over and above what is. Whether elitist or not, Strauss's argument is certainly not typical
of enlightenment assumptions about the rule of reason in human society. Strauss's position
may make more sense to sociologists if it is compared to Weber's dark prophecies regarding
the role of science in the disenchantment of the world. In this respect, Strauss and Weber
agree that reason can compromise the protective atmosphere within which action is pos
sible.

References
Alexander, Jeffrey C, "Modern, Anti, Post, and Neo: How Intellectuals Have Coded, Narrated, and
Explained the New World of Our Time," in Fin de Si?cle Social Theory (New York: Verso Books,
1995).

Abbott 75

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Antonio, Robert J., "Mapping Postmodern Social Theory," in What is Social Theory? ed. Alan Sica
(Maiden, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1998), pp. 22-75.
Baltzell, E. Digby, Puritan Boston and Quaker Philadelphia (New York: The Free Press, 1979).
Banfield, Edward C, "Leo Strauss" in Remembering the University of Chicago ed. Edward Shills
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 19 ), pp.490-501.
Bellah, Robert, et al, Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life (Berkley:
University of California Press, 1985).
Bellah, Robert, The Good Society (New York: Vintage Books, 1992).
Bloom, Allan, "Leo Strauss: September 20,1899-October 18 1973" in Giants and Dwarfs (New
York: Simon and Schuster, 1990), pp. 235-253
Bogen, David, Order Without Rules (Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1999.)
Buxton, William, Talcott Parsons and the Capitalist Nation State (Toronto: University of Toronto
Press, 1985).
Collins, Patricia Hill, "The Social Construction of Black Feminist Thought," in Signs: fournal of
Women in Culture and Society, vol. 14, no. 4, 1989, pp. 745-773.
Coser, Lewis A., Masters of Sociological Thought (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Jovanovich,
1977).
Deutsch, Kenneth L., and Murley, John A., eds., Leo Strauss, the Straussians, and the American
Regime (Oxford: Rowman & Littlefield, 1999).
Drury, Shadia, The Political Ideas of Leo Strauss (New York: St. Martins Press, 1988).
Davis, James, "What's Wrong with Sociology?" in Sociological Forum, (vol. 9, no. 2, 1994, pp. 179
197).
Denzin, Norman, Images of Postmodern Society (London: Sage Publications, 1991).
Denzin, Norman, Symbolic Interaction and Cultural Studies (Oxford: Blackwell Publishers, 1992).
Feagin, Joe, "Soul-Searching in Sociology: Is the Discipline in Crisis?," in The Chronicle of Higher
Education, 15 October, 1999.
Finklestein, Joanne, The Fashioned Self (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1991).
Foucault, Michel, The Archaeology of Knowledge (New York: Pantheon Books, 1972).
Foucault, Michel, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (New York: Random Houise,
1979).
Fuller, Steve, "From Content to Context: A Social Epistemology of the Structure-Agency Craze," in
What is Social Theory? Ed. Alan Sica (Maiden, Massachusetts: Blackwell Publishers, 1998), pp.
92-117.
Gebhardt, J?rgen, "Leo Strauss: The Quest for Truth in Times of Perplexity" in Hannah Arendt
and Leo Strauss: German Emigres and American Political Thought after World War II eds. P.G.
Kielmansegg, H. Mewes, and E. Glaser-Schmidt (Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press,
1995), pp. 81-104.
Gouldner, Alvin, The Coming Crisis of Western Sociology (New York: Basic Books, 1970).
Gunnell, John G., "Political Theory and Politics: The Case of Leo Strauss and Liberal Democracy,"
in The Crisis of Liberal Democracy, eds. Kenneth L. Deutsch and Walter Soffer (Albany: SUNY
Press, 1987), pp. 68-88.
Holmes, Stephen, Anatomy of Anti-Liberalism (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University
Press, 1993).
Horowitz, Irving Louis, The Decomposition of Sociology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993).
Imber, Jonathon B., "Introduction," in Philip Rieff, The Feeling Intellect ed. Jonathon Imber (Chi
cago: University of Chicago Press, 1990).
Imber, Jonathon B., "Other-Directed Rebels," in Contemporary Sociology, Vol. 28, No.3, May 1999,
pp. 255-259.
Jeffries, Vincent, "The Integral Paradigm: The Truth of Faith and the Social Sciences," in The
American Sociologist, Vol. 30, No. 4, Winter 1999, pp. 36-55.
Kielmansegg, P. G., Mewes, H., Glaser-Schmidt, E. eds., Hannah Arendt and Leo Strauss: German
Emigres and American Political Thought after World War II (Cambridge: University of Cam
bridge Press, 1995).
Levine, Donald, Visions of the Sociological Tradition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995).
Lilla, Mark, "The Politics of Jacques Derrida" in The New York Review of Books, June 25, 1998.
Maclntyre, Alasdair, After Virtue (Notre Dame, Indiana: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981).
Maclver, Robert M., As a Tale that is Told (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1968).
Midgley, Mary, Beast and Man (London and New York: Routledge Press, 1979).

76 The American Sociologist / Spring 2001

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Mills, C. Wright, listen Yankee: The Revolution in Cuba (New York: McGraw Hill, I960).
Richardson, Laurel, "Postmodern Social Theory: Representational Practices," m Sociological Theory
(1991, vol. 9, no. 2, , pp. 173-179).
Safranski, Rudiger, Martin Heidegger: Between Good and Evil (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard
University Press, 1998).
Salkever, Stephen G., Finding the Mean (Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1990).
Section on Racial and Ethnic Minorities, "Institutional Racism, ASA Council, and the ASR
Editorship," in Footnotes, November 1999, vol. 27, no. 8, pp. 4-5.
Seidman, Stephen, "The End of Sociological Theory: The Postmodern Hope," in Sociological
Theory (1991, vol. 9, no. 2, pp.131-146).
Seidman, Stephen, Contested Knowledge: Social Theory in the Postmodern Era (Oxford: Blackwell
Publishers, 1998).
Shills, Edward, "The Antinomies of Liberalism," in The Relevance of Liberalism ed. Zbigniew
Brzezinski (Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1978), pp. 135-200.
Sorokin, Pitirim, Sociological Theories of Today (New York, Harper and Row, 1966).
Sorokin, Pitirim, Fads and Foibles in Modern Sociology and Related Sciences (Chicago: Regenery,
1956).
Strauss, Leo, Natural Right and History (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1953).
Strauss, Leo, Thoughts on Machiavelli (Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1958).
Strauss, Leo, What is Political Philosophy (Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 1959).
Strauss, Leo, "An Epilogue," in Essays on the Scientific Study of Politics ed. Herbert J. Storing (New
York: Holt, Reinhart and Winston, 1962), pp. 305-207.
Strauss, Leo, The City and Man (Virginia: University of Virginia Press, 1964).
Strauss, Leo, Liberalism Ancient and Modern ed. Alan Bloom, (New York: Basic Books, 1968).
Strauss, Leo, "Three Waves of Modernity," in Political Philosophy ed. Hiail Gildin (New York:
1975), pp. 81-98.
Strauss, Leo, Studies in Platonic Political Philosophy ed. Thomas L. Pangle (Chicago: University of
(Chicago Press, 1983).
Tocqueville, Alexis de, Democracy in America, Volume II (New York: Vintage Books, 1990).
Tucker, James, "Politics and the ASA," in ASA Footnotes, December 1999, p. 6.
Turner, Jonathon H. and Kim, Kyung-Man, "The Disentegration of Tribal Solidarity among Ameri
can Sociologists" in The American Sociologist, Vol. 30, no. 2, Summer 1999, pp. 5-20.
Turner, Stephen and Turner, Jonathon H., The Impossible Science (Newbury Park, CA.: Sage Pub
lications).
Turner, Stephen, "Making Normative Soup with Non-Normative Bones," in What is Social Theory?
ed. Alan Sica (Maiden, Massachusetts, 1998), pp. 118-144.
Wallerstein, Immanuel,"Sociology and Useful Knowledge," (ISA Presidential Letter no. 8, Febru
ary, 1998).
Wallerstien, Immanuel, The Capitalist World-Economy (New York: Cambridge University Press,
1979).
Wolfe, Alan, Marginalized in the Middle (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996).
Wolfe, Alan, "The Revolution that Never Was," in The New Republic, June 7, 1999
Wrong, Dennis H., The Modern Condition: Essays at Century's End ( Stanford, California: Stanford
University Press, 1998).

Abbott 77

This content downloaded from


71.150.221.215 on Wed, 22 Dec 2021 16:41:40 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms

You might also like