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RESERVE 1l~~ERVE
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2ND SEM ~
i.
NOWADAYS men often feeI'that their private lives are a series or
traps. They sense that within their evcqday worlds, th€ y ca.!lDct

it6f overcome their troubles, and in this feeling, they are often qt:ite

correct: What ordinary men are directly aware of and what the;:

try .to do are bounded by the private orbits in which they iive;

t their visions and their powers are llir.ited to the close-up scenes

t ;"­
~. of job. family. neighborhQ,Od; in other milleu.'t, they move vi:::::."i·

t-' ' ow;}y and remain spectators. And the more aware they beco:ne,

'.- ..
"".,.:r·:., ~
however vaguely, of ambitions and of threats \\'hich tJ:onscc!lci

tlleir immediate locales, the more trapped they see:n to reel.

.,
Underlying this sense of being tr:::.pped are seemingly
sona! changes in the very structure of continent-wide societie::.
i::'
[.
:"<i: The bcts of qontemporary history are also facts about the su~ess
ond the failure 0; individual men and women. When :J. SOCiety
t
! i.s industrialized, a peasant becomes :J. .worker; a feudol lora. i:i
I

r i
liquid:J.ted or' becomes a businessmun. When classes rise or £::11,
a man is employed or unerr:ployed; when the. rate of invcst::;J.e;::t

.t't. ;..,'1·1 ,. goes up or down, a ,man takes new heart or goes broke. \\1:.;:;;::
wars happen, an instlr:::nce salesman becomes a rod:et !:':'t2:,::b:::!;
~,7· ..::j a store clerk, a radar maD; a wife lives alone; a child grows u?
t;- ~'""'l without a father:..Neit.~er t.~e life of aD indi"i~Lno:_tbe.~1v_:;'
f4-~J~·:t~
r.,. .,. _,:,1 ~~ a society can be unaerstooct with?!l.L~9~!!:L.'1ding both. .
l-.. :! ·····1 Yet men do not usUallydefine the troubles they -e-::idure ill
L:· "
terms of historical change and instittl~(mal contradiction. TIle
~r T
- i
.,
well-being they enjoy, they do not usu~y impute to the ,big ui?::
[ ;;., and downs of the societies in which they live. Seldom aw::c:e d the
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.' 4 • THE PlOMISE 5 '
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,I ,intricate 'connection between the pattems of· their own lives and p.
'\ the course of world history. ordinary men do not usually know \:
what this connection means for the kinds of men they are becom­
ing and for the kinds of history-making in which they might take
part. They do not possess the quality of mind ~ssential to grasp
the interplay of man and society. of biography and history. of
worlds with which they are so suddenly confronted? That they
cannot understand the meaning of their epoch for their o'wn lives?
That-in defense of sel!hood-they become Inorally insensible,
trying to remain altogether private men? Is it any wonder that
.
tl;cv come to be possessed by a sense of the trap?

sel! and world. They cannot cope with their personal troubles It is not only information that they need-in this Age. of Fact,
in such ways as to control the structural transformations that • i.'1formation often dominates their attention and overwhelms
usually lie behind them. . ,their capacities to assimilate it. It is not only the skills of reason
SUrely it is no wonder. In what period have so many men !', that they need-although their struggles to acquire these ofteu
been so totally e)..-posed at so £ast a pace to such earthquakes of e.xhaust their limlted mornl energy. ,

change? That Americans have not known such catastrophic r' ''What they need, and what'the feel L"l-te need. is a quality of

changes as have the men and women of other societies is due to
an to aeve!o reason
historical facts that are now qUickly becoming 'x;nerely history:
\fhe history that now affects' every man is world history. Within
this scene and this period, in the course of a single generation. one
si'i:th of mankind is transformed from all that is feudal and back­
ward into· all that is modern. advanced. and fearful. Political
colonies are freed; new and less visible fOrID$ of imperialism in­
stalled. Revolutions occm; men feel ~e intimate grip of new
kinds of authoril:), Totalitarian societies rise. and are smashed to
.. bits-or su(!cee4 fabulously. After two centuries of ascendancy,
If···
r . ···
.. ;
'-,
.,
capitalism is sho\'VD up as only one way to make society' into an
industrial apparatus. After two centuries of hope. eve:Q. formal
L democracy is restricted to a quite small portion of mankind...
min \ 1; e p em to use information.
!R or er to achIeve lucid summations of ,£hat is gQini on in . e
world and of what may be happening within themselves. It is this
quality. I am going to contend. that journalists and scholars,
(l~ists and publics, scientists :md editors are coming to expect of
\"hat may be called the ~ociological im:lgi..nation. J
t ~ ~.
'1_The,liociological imagination enables its possessor to understansi
.tlle lar'ier historical scepe jn ferms c. its w'l"ning for the inIler /'
lifcand the external career of a varietvof individuals.jIt en:loles '
him to take into account how individua!s~ in the werrer of their
daily experience. often become falsely consGious of their soci~l

r Evel)"where in the underdeveloped world, ancient ways of life

ara broken up and vague expectations become urgent demands.
positions. Within that welter, the framework or modern soc!et'j is
sought, :md within that framework the psychologies of a variety

t·.·
~
I
!
Everywhere in the overdeveloped world. the means of authority
and of violence become total in scope and bureaucratic in form.
Humanity itself now lies before us, the super-nation at either
of men and wemen are formulated. Bv such means the Derso:lal
uneasiness of iJldividuals is focused ~Fon explicit troubles and
the indifference of publics is transformed into involvement v;'ith
r.( .-.iJ
i-'
pole concentrating its most co-ordinated, and massive efforts UpO::l
the preparation of World War Three. ,
Pi1blic issues.
\The first fruit of this irnagmation-C':!ld the first lesson of the
t"-, i The very shaping of histoq now outpA~e~ the ability of men to soCial science that embodies it-is the ide2. that Ll-te L'1dhiduaJ cm
I-:r , ' orient themselves :in accord:mce wi.th cherished values ..A_Tld which u11derstand his own experience and p'.!.ge his O\Vll fate onlv QY
r~ values? Even when they do not pa."1ic, men often sense 0::l.t older lo·catinO" hims 1 ," • • "t he can know his ow~
.,, ways of feeling nnd thinking have collapsed and that newer be­ c, :mcesin life only by becomin~ aware of .those of all in hiCluals
t, ginnings are ambiguous to the point of moral stasis, Is it any in: hiS circumstances. \In many ways it is a terrible lesson; in many
wonder that ordinCI)' man feel they cannot cope "'ith the lurger \~ays a magnfficen(one. We do not now the limits of man:$
I, .1
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THE SOCIOLOGICAL IMAG!NA nON :::
Y L. THE rIOM!S!
capacltie~ for supreme effort'or willing degradation. for ago~y or
glee, for pleasurable brutality or the sweetness 'of reason. But in "
our time we have come to know that the limits of 'human nature'
axe frighteningly broad. We have come to know that every in·
dividuallives, from one generation to the ne.'<t, in some society;
that he lives out a biography, and that he lives it out within some
bi.stOriCal sequence:r fact of his living' he conbibutes, how- ..
,. ever minutely, to the'sha in of this SOCle an 0 e course of
i . . !ts ~ory, even as e is ma e y society and by its historics push .
\ S ove.1 a
1 "",
I ~ I' 'sociblo{tical ima ination enables us to
A\, hi a h and the relations etw~en
histo and
at . ,
it its task and its PTQm~. 0 recognize 's tas and s promise
is the mark of the classic socia! analyst. It' is characteristic of
Herbert Spencer-turgid, polysyllabiC, comprehensive; of E. A.
Ross-graceful, muckraking, upright; of Auguste Comte and
Emile Durkheim; of the intricate and subtIe Karl Mannheim. It is
'·1
the quality. of all that is intel1e~tually ,excellent in Karl Marx; it is
~
I the clue to Thorstein Veblen's bri1lian~ and iIoDic insight. to
.1 Joseph Schumpeter's :qtany-sided constructions of reality; it is the
bsis of the psychological sweep of W. E. H. Lecky no less thaIl
of the profundity and clarity of Max Weber. And it is the rignal
of what is. best in contemporary studies of man and society
No social study t.i.at does not come back to the problems of biog­
raphy, of history and of their intersections \vithin a society hl!s
completed its' intellectual journey.! Whatever the specific prob­
lems of the classic social :ma!vsts,l...liowever limited or ho\vever
bro:ld the features of socia! r~ality they have examined, those
who have been imaginatively aware of the promise of their work
have consistently nsked three sorts of questions:
~
, ~
7
•r' How does any particular feature we are examining affect, and
how is it affected by, the historical period in which it moves?
And this period-what are its essential fe:ltures? How coes it
differ from other periods? What ,are its characteristic ways of
history-making? .
(3) V,I.hat varieties of men and women now prevail in this s:r
'det:)' and in this perioc!!.And what varieties axe coming to p:;ev::dI?
. In ,what ways are they selected and fonned, liberated and' re­
pressed, made sensitive and blunted? What kinds of 'human D:!­
r ture' are· revealed in the conduct and chaxacter we observe b
r this society in ~ period? And what is the meaning for 'hUIT!::t!l,
nature' of each and every feature of the society we are e:ca.'i'.i!1ing?
Whether the point of interest is a great power s~ate or a minor ­
literary mood. a family, a prison, a creed-these are the ki.,.:ds cr
questions the best social analysts have asked. They are the intel·
lcctu:llpivots of classic studies of man in SOciety-and t.l:!ey are
the questions inevitably raised by any mind possessing the sccia­
logica1 imagination,v'Fqr that imagination is the capacity to shift
from orie perspective to another-from the political to the psycho­
logic:1l; from e.'\.llmination of a single family to comparative assess­
ment of tIle national' budgets of the world; from tIle theologiccl
school to the milit::u-v establishment; from consideratio!]$ of :!!: oU
industry to studies ~fconter::lporary pcetrypt is the_,~:!p~C!ty to
cJ.n e from the most im ersonru and remote t:rnnsfonnatioDs t9_t~c
most intimate' e:ltures pf the human self-and to see the rebtiou~
between the two. Back of its use there 'is always'the u!"z;-' to
know the sociil' and historical meaninG' of the mdh1d~ i!l. the'
SOCiety and milie period in which he has hisguality and his
~dng:, Ii . . "
Th.:ilin ?rief. is why it is by means of the scciologic:l.l i..':!:'!,f;,;:;;!.

t 1 ,
( 1) )Vhat is the structure of j}Js particuiar society as a "v'hole?
What are its essential components, and how are they re~ated to one
tiOD that men now hope to grasp wh<!.~ is goi.-lg on in tb w
and to understand what is happening in t.i.emselves os wi.mte
t
l-c
nnother? How does it differ from other vaneties of social order?
VVithin it, what is the meaning of any particular featuIe for its
points of the intersections of biography acd historj '.i~ :0­
ciety. In large p:lrt, cont.empora..l' man's self-conscious \'ie'" c~
~. .; continuance and for its change? .' himself as at least an outsider, if not a permanent stra.,ger, :;.:;st:

I;
~., ':
(2) Wuere does this society st:md in.hmnan histoxy? \vnc.t ::!re
the mechanics by which it is changing? What is its place within
~d its meaning for the development, of humanity as a whole?
upon an absorbed realization of socia! relativity and of the tr"-IlS­
formative power of history. (The sociologi~:l.l Ji!!l:l.giDation)s
most fruitful form of this. se1f-consciousness)By its use m.e!l W~O:e

r·!

I\·~:~~":;~ :;']':;:r~.,' ,".... , . :·'i.~:;i~~:~?"~;!,;.,,·:'· .~" ·

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 8
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THE SOCIOLOGICAL IMAGINATION
.;

mentali~eS have Swept only a seri~s' of limi,te~.6rbits '()£te~

-
come
':x'. .--": " ·,··f
.
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THE !"ROMISE
,~t

• ,., .... '·"i

.
,~'~ i ,",,'. .::. ,d .......

even widespread~trouble. that it' cannot .wiry well be defined in

,',
\. 9
.

to feel as if sudden1y awakened in a·hou.se'~\vith' \1/hich they had ; terms of the. bnmediate and everyda'y environments of ord.!nary
only supposed themselves to be familiar. Correctly or incorrectly, men. Anitive. in fact, often irivolves a crisis in in~titutio~r.
f:" '-:L they often come to feel that. they can now provitle themselves " rangemcnts, and often tOO!! inyo~ye~_~·ha.t ?-.f.!.~,<:~ll.·c2ntr~­
, r'"
,yit.'1 adequate summations~·7o~e~iv.~ 'e.sses¥1~nts, comprehensive aiCbons or antagoruslnL.,. . "
f
f
t
,.,
... ":'j
.
. orientations.' Older decisions that oncEf appeared soUnd now seem
to.them products of a mind unaccountably dense. The,ir capa 7ity..
-'
\ .; ~.' , ~ ~. ~ ,~l'\ <f'~'~\ ~< ,:,,~/~~:~ '~ ,~. ~',~.~ ,~ ';;\~7~'
In these lerms, consider unemployment. \Vhen, in a city of
for .astonishment is madelivc1y again. They 'acquire a new way of 100,000; only one man is unemployed, that is his person:!l trouble,

lr
thIriking, they e...: perience a transvaluation of values: in a word, nnd for its relief we properly .look to the character of the n12.n, his
by their reflection and by their senSibility,' they realize the SYl: . skills, and his immediate opportunities. But when in a nati::;::. of
tural. meaninsr of the social sciens.es. ..~ ... 50 million employees,' 15 million men are unemployed, that L, an
., issue, and we ~ay not hope to find its solution \T.:it.'ilil
opportunities',open to anyone individual. The very stn:ct'..!:c cf
of
o.
-r Perhaps the ciost fruitful dis~on with which the sociological opportunities has coliapsed.,.,Both the correct stat:'!::!l':nl: the cz
r imagination works is bet\~een'>,~e personal troubles of milieu' problem and ~~,!~~~_o~?9ss~P~:-_~()~~~~:~=Ii§.,JO'-"co-n­
slqer the-econom!c and.poUtical mstitutioos of the ~C~!:~ty, a.n~"r:?~
!
and;:!he public issues of social structure: This distinction is an

lr essential tool of the· sociological imagination and a feature of all

classic work in social science.! '. , , .,
.merefl
u31~ ....
theeersonal situation iUid"character of a sC:l.tter of ii.c.hid­
... "

, .' ' . .
-­
Troubles occur within theJ character of the individual and .• ·Consider war. The personal problem of war,
when it OCZ'..!!'S,
Within the range of his immediate relations, with oili,ersj they may be how to survive it Or how to die ~ it with honor; hoV; to
....Eave to do with his self and with those limited areas of social life make money out of it; how to climb int.o the higher safety of

I of which he is directly and persc.nnl1y aware. Accordingly, the

statement and t4e resolution of troubles properly lie within t.l)e
individual as a biographical entity and within . the scope of his
the military apparatus; or how to contribute t~ the war's tc!""';.
nation. In short, according to one's values, to £.nd a s!:t of
milieu.-" and within it to survive the war or nlake one's dc;.::th in

I ~ediate milieu-the social setting that is directly open to his

personal c>.-perience and to some e~1ent his wiilful activity. A
trou~le is a private matter: values cherished by an individual are
it meaningful. But the structural issues of war have to do with its
causes; with' what types of men it throws up into comm:::.nd;
with its effects upon economic and political, family and religiOUS

I ".
felt by him to be threatened. /
Issues have to do with matters that' transcend these local en­
"ironmcnts of the individual and the range of his inner life. They
institutions, with the unorganized irresponsibility of a werld of
nation-states.
Consider marriage. Inside a marriage a man and a wom:m

l
, ;" l'

'," • .7~ have to do with the organization of many such milieux into the
.;; .~.~ institutions of an. historical society as a whole, with the ways in
:"',:~-: ":';J'~ which various milieux overlap and interpenetrate to form the
c· . ;
f.t;.,;?"
i larger structure of social and historical life. An .issue is a public
_ matter: some value cherished by publics is fel~ to be threatened. r-
Often there is a debate about what that value really is and about
what it is that really threatens it. This debate is often without ~ nificent sprawl of the great city. For many upper-class people,
focus if only because it is the very nature of an issue, unlike
~.
f,
e;'Cpericnce person::rl troubles. but \vhcn the divorce rate
~.
the first four years of marriage is 250 out of every 1,Ov"O attempts.
~ this is an indication of a structural issue having to do with the
!.
i institutions of marriage and the family and other institutions
I..
that bear upon them.
Or consider the metropolis-the horrible, beautiful, ugly, mag­
the personal solution to 'the problem of the city' is to have 2.D.
 ~!,n;(."
t~" :11' "...
", lO ., .. THE SOCIO~OGICAL IMAG'~NATI~N .i.~
' r _ ' .~.:.-,-:;'-: "L
; ;HE PROM-ISE
1'_
'.' i 7.
.'
~ : . apartmeilt with private gar~ge under it in the heart of the city, ~'. usc it with s~nsibility is to be capable of tracing such bkag.:~
! ' and forty miles out, a house by Henry Hill. garden by Garrett :unong a great variety or milieu.'C. To be able to do th",t is t-:
Eckbo. on a htmdred acres of private land.' In these two con- possess tbe SOciological imagination)
trolled environments-with a small staff at each end and a pri- -'
vate helicopter connection-most people could solve many of : 3
the problems of personal milieux caused by the bets of the city. .What are the major issues for publics and the kc;' trot::O]C:'s c::
But all this, however splendid, does ~ot solve the public issues that ... privntc individuals in our time? To· formulate issues and b",ubk:.

_0
the structural fact of the city poses. What s.hould be done with this .
, wonderful monstrosity? Break it all ttp scattered units. com­
bining residence and work? Refurbish it as it stands? Or, after
, we must ask what values arc cherished yet threatened, ::1I~': w}:c:=

values are cherishedand supported, by the characterizing tre!l'':'"

'·.of our period. In the case both of threat and of support We mt::..--::

ev~cuation, dynamite it and build new 'cities acCording· to new ask what salient contradictions of structure may be invoked.
plans in new places? What should those plans ber And who , IWhen peoplc cherish some set of values nnd do Dot fc-el ~:­
is to decide and to accomplish' whatever choice is made? These I. thrC:if fo th~m, they experience ,well-beinp, When they ~~c.
are structural issues; to confront them and to solve them requires ' v:t ucs u ee e eatened thevex e • ~ ce a .£ri;':d
us to consider.,political and economic issues that affect innumer- -dt lcr as a E,crsonnl trouble or us uy'u2!ic l$sue. And if a.!l tl:t:-=
able :milieu.x. values seem ~volvcd.they feel the total thre:lt of P::!.11ic.
,
!
In so far asl'an economy is so arranged that slumps occur, the : I • But suppose people are neither aware of a.'lY . cherished

l
problem of unemployment becomes incapable of :personal solu-
ticn. In so far as war is, inherent in the nation-state systcm nnd
in the uneven industrialization of the 'world, the ordinary indi.
vidual in his restricted milieu will be powerless-with or without
' nor experience nny thre::tt? Thn.t is the experi~nce of~::fr..fr.;.,:,:.::.
which, if it seems to involve all their vo.lues. becomes :lpat::y. S'':~­
pose, finally, .they arc unaware of uny cherished \'alues, b:..:t $;:':"::
ar~ very muc!l aware of a threat? That is the cxpcric:::2ce ':::

i
f
psyclrlatric aid-to solve the troubles this system or lack of system
imposes upon him. In so far as the family as an institution ~"'llS
women into darling little slaves and men into their chief provi9crs
and unwen.ned dependents, the' problem of a satisfactory mar·
uTleasiness. of .n~y.. which, if it is total enough. bC'C'J:TICS

deadly unspecified mabisc.

. : Ours is a time of uneasiness and in.differencc-not vet feJI;:::':­
htcd in such ways as to pennit the work of reason :.m'J t~:e ....
'

of sensibilitv. \Instca.d of troubles-dc'sncd b ~crms cf "ui:.:.:'s ;:z.::'::'

t; riage ret:"!cins incapable of purely private solution. In so far as
the overdeveloped megalopolis and, the. overdeveloped automo­ thrcnts'-the~e\ is often the IT'jscry of vague uneasLrless; i::lst·:.:.:'
bile are built-in fe::ttures of the overdeveloped society, 013 issucs of (·xplicit issues there is ofte!1 merely the belt feeling :>.1: ~
of urban living· will not be solved by personal ingenuity and so:nehow not right. Neither the 'values thr('~";.tened DO, \';;:J.tc.
privllte \ve:llth. thrc:'ttcns thc!Y! h:lS been st:lt~d; i.11 short, they h;:>.\·c nc:
c:l!Tiecl to the ~)Oillt of decisio:!, :. bc.:l~ lcs~ !l;'H~ ·th.::~: b~,;;~
.,' Wn:!t we experience in various and specific milieu.."C, I havo lilted as problems of social sciC!1cc. ,
noted, is often caused by structural changes. Accordingl)" to un­ In the >thirties there was little doubt-except :lIDon::; ceri::.':=.
derstand the c!l:mgcs of many pcrsonn.l milieu.': we are require:! deluued business circles that there ,-vas nn economic issue v.. }-:':..:~..
to loc!;: beyer-cl the::::l,.._-\nd the numL)er and '·:::r:j.ety of s~h struc­ " ......."Iso'"
\''''$ ~ p ... ck of per~on"'l""'ouhl~o'I:'"
........... "".* "J ~J..,_
..... J... ~-""'~C-" _l.­
,,1, U. U"'~,::h 4 ... ;:)1,,; ........ 2)UJ. .. .t • .:~...:l \.lj.J;~ '"

h::"al changes incre:,se as the institutions within. which we live crisis of c:lpitalism: the for.m.:btio:1s of ~.f;1rx J.nd t~.? :;':':'::. '
become oo):'!},cmbracing and more intricately cOlmected with unnck.,'1owledged re-formulations of his wo;:;.. probably S2t t..:..:
cne :J:!lcther. To be aware of the ide::! of social structure and to leading terms of the issue, and sotile men c::l.Ine to 1.L"!ce::-:t:-:..::':

!
I
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:1';' ,;f, 12 THE SOCIOLOGICAL
their perion~l troubles in these' terms. The
., . .W£.;.,
1~'A'~I~~T10N "'~¥.
values threatened
were plain to see and cherished by aU; the structural contradic·
~
"'"
r'
THE 'ROMISE
form the social and personal clim:lte of contemporary America..:::
society. In ,this climate, no problems of 'the pnvatelife' c~m be "
'. , 13
-r~

tions that threatened them also seemed plain. Both were widely stated and solved without recognition of the crisis of ambitio=: ."
of

an4 deeply e;'(perienced. It was a political age.. that is }Xlrt of thc very carccr of men at work. in the incorporatee. ,~
But the values threatened in the era after World War Two economy. .
'1t}.":-) are often neither widely acknowledged as values rior widely felt It is true, as psychoanalysts continuaBy point out, that peopl: !
I
to be threatened. Much private uneasiness goes unformulated; .. do often have 'the increasing sense of being moved by obscu!';: I' ,
.::~1 much public malaise and many decisions of enormous structural forces within themselves which they are unable to deSlle.' But i: :1
~
.! relevance never become public issues. For those who accept such is not ~e, ~s Ernest Jones asserted, that 'man's chief enemy ar::::' !Ii
:.~;:::;;,·,1
. • • '1
inherited values as reason and freedom; it is the uneasiness itself
that is the trouble; it is the indifference itself that is the issue.
danger 15 hi}:ewn unruly nature and the dark forces pent
within him.' ~ the contrary: ""Man's chief danger' today lies r ./ I"
/.~

,1 And it is this condition; of uneasiness and indiHerence. that is b.i.e the unruly forces of contemoora..-v society itself, with its :tHe=:- ,
• " "j
-",:-1 signal feature of our perice!. ' atin~rn:'ethodsofproduCtion, en;'eloping techniques of politiC"'~
its II ,
1
All this is so striking that it is often i.-ltcrpreted by observers ,as domination, its international anarchy-in a word, its pe:vasi';e I .
,!
I
a shift in the very kinds of problems' t".ut need now to be fonnu· tTansfonn:ltions of ~e verY 'nature' of man and the co;::diti,,;:~ r
lated. ,Ve are frequently t9ld that the problems of our decade, or and aUns of his ,life. \ ' . I
~ even the cris~s of our period, have shifted from the ex~ernal realm ;~
of economics and now have to do with the quality of individual . It is now the social scientist's foremost political and int~llcch.:':'::

life-in fact with the question of whether there is soon going to task-for here the hvo coincide-to mo.ke cJenr the elcr:::cnts c:

be anything that can properly be called individual life. Not child cpntemporary uneasiness and indifference. It is t".t.e_ ce.z1.~~L

bbor but comic b90ks, not 'poverty but mass leisure, are at the ,mund maae upon hun by OtIier cUIfur~~orkmen-by physic'!'

center of concern. Mnny great public issues as well as many pri. scient::ists and artists, by the intel!ectt.:.21 cOr:!m;;.nity b ge::.e::.":.I..

vate "troubles are described in terms of 'the psychiatric'-often, it It is because of this task nnd these dema:tds, I belie'le, tb::t t::.=

seems, in a pathetic attempt to avoid the large issues and prob­ social sciences are becoming the com:non deno:nir:ator cf c:..:::­

lems of modern society. Often this statement seems to rest upon cultural period, and the sociological i1:::tgination our mDst n(!ed~:::'

a provincia.l narrowing of interest to the 'Western societies, or quality of mind. (.. .', " ' .

even to the United St:ltcs-thus ignoring hvo-thirds of mankind;

often, too, it arbitrnrilv divorces the individual life from the

4
i
larger institutions within which that life is enncted, a~d which , 'In every inteHectual age some on~ styie of reflection tends t:J
l; on occasion be::!r upon it .r;ore grievously than do the in,tireute become a COll'.IOon denomL'1ator of cultural life, N"owado.Y5, it :.0
I e!riironment; of childhood. true, many L'ltelltlctual fads are \ovid.;l;; t;:,ken up before ~;c:y :..::::
i 1 )Prob!ems of leisure, for example, carJlot eve:::l be stated with­ dropped for new ones in t.'e course 0':: a year or hyo, Such
i.. ~ out consideringprobler:ns of ·.York. Fun:-...ily troubles over comic siasms may add, spice to cultc.ral ph:-, but leave little or :::::
i books C:!!lDot be formulated as problems ",vit..i.ot.:.t considering the intellectual trc.ce. Thnt is not true of :;uch 'l.";·~ys of tl~;!"l ~~g G..S
~,
plight or t.i.e contemporary family in its nc}v relations with" t".'I;e . 'Ne\\'toninn physics' or 'Darwinia:t biology: Each cf the~c: i:1::",:­
newer institutions of the. social structure. L~either leisu;re nor lectuni universes bec3me 3-"1 influe!'l:::e tho.t renched far .::
( its debilitati!lg uses can be understood as 'oroblcms without any special sphere of idea and imagery. In terms of thez:n, or ~
1 rCI:ognitio:;l ,:;(the extent to which m::laise und bdifference nO\V
..
t
I.
I
terms derived from them, unknown scholars as well as frls::u:::::­

L
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THE SOCaO"L.C:>~I~,A~ IMA~I"AHQ",.:l'~·~~:
, ,.,:- ..::~:".;., ': , " ' .... ~'"":'~' :5;.'
THE PROMISE,
,-" •• • ,-­
,13
able "coInmentators came to re'-focus'thea observations and ";;:: much to'meet the demand lor it. By means 'of it. orientation b
fe-formulate their concerns. ;: the present as history is sought. As images of 'human nature"
During the modern era, physical and biological s~ence has i become ~re problematic, an increasing need is felt to pay close:::­

"; ~.
",I ::
!
been the major c~m~on denomina~r. oI serious r~ection and
popular metaphysIcs m Western societies. "The technique of the
laboratory' h3s been· the accepted mode of procedure and the
source of intellectual security:' That is one .meaning of the idea
C
I-
,I.
t yet more m:aginative attention .t.o the ,SOCial ro_~~esm:?, cat~~.
tropbes which. reveal (and which sbape) mans nature m tb--=:
time of civil unrest and ideological conBict. Although fashion is
often 'revealed by attempts to use it.)h.e ,SOciolOgical imaginatic:c

<11
i
t ;., .

I
:;
1 '"

if
,
ttl
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,

., ;:
of an intellectual common denominator: men can state their
. strongest convictions in its terms; other terms and other stYles
of reflecti.'OIl s.eem mere vehicles of esap.e. and ObSCurity..
That a common denominator prevails does not of course mean
that no other styles of thought or modes of sensibility exist. But
it does mean that more general intellectual interests tend to slide
'l.
[':,
t~

(
'.
.
is not merely a fashion:It is a quaUty of Illind that seems m,!'s:

prom!';
q{ffilIJlati'kuy to PD 1l:g4erstandin~ of the in'Enlate..,reaIi­
tics of GUnelye. in connectjonwith ..Jarger-malcu;.Uti,sJ It .,

;;at merely one quaUty of mind among the contemporary ran;::!

of cultural sensibilities-it is ,the qualitoJ whose wider and more
adroit use offers the promise that all such sensibiliqes-and b
.c
~f
.j;
it.
I ~

, :.
:1
'into this area. to be formulated there most sharply, and when so fact,Jnmmn reason itself-will come to playa greater role ~ ~:
! Iormulated. to be thought somehow to have reached, if not a human affairs.
i ;. ':
solution, at least a profitable way of being carried along. ---­
!'f!l~"sociological~ag~~,t.::i(;lD is ,becOming. I believe. th~.E!..~j~ i i The cultural· menning of physical science-the major oIde::' .[
common denominator of our cultural life and its signal feature! " common denominator-is becominO' doubtful. As an intellectu:L !
.l
~ qualitY -~ IIliiici-iS"fow:id in the sOCi:;I ~~ psycpological style, pbysic:llscience is coming toObe thought by many as some-
SCIences, but 1t, ~o.es far ~ey~n~ these studies'as we now know how in.aCcquate. The,adcqnagy of scientific styles of thought :u:c
them. Its acqwsltion by mdiVlduals and by,the cultural com· £ linO' ima ination and sens' i' . has of course ft "''i.,.!..
munity at large is slow and often fumbUng; many social scientists b 'nnlncrs cen sub'ect to reliO'ious doubt and theolocical cc;::- 'I
i
are themselves qU,it~ una:var~ of. it, They do not seem ,to know !!overv. but our scientWg ~::mdfnthers and fn.thers eat do ...;;~
that.Jhe use of this lIDa~~tiOn 15 cElntrru to the best. wth°rk that.. sggb religjollS doubts The current dQubts are secular, humapis,6
they might do that by £ailin cr to develop- and to use It . ev are d gO; • ' . • ,'.
111_ • th 1 al'::' ti &'\.-t . C1 t' be -g,n d :rl. SUIte confuss,d. Recent aevelonments m phVS~c::",:
f :l.I.I.I.Ug to meet e cu tur expecto. ons Uli.1 are corom.:; 0 ' , . , '.. 1 • l' .• ,
. tr dit! f the'" sever"U.l1 SClence-Wlth Its• .ec.lnologlco.l C.lln:l.'> In the H-bomb and
d emande d 0 f them an d that th e c1:lSSlC a ons 0 "" . ' ' . ,
. t:_ _1. ail bI t th '1...... means of c::l.rrymg It about the eurt.~-have not been expe!'::­
di SCIPLlllCS maKe av a e 0 em;.; d' I' I " 1 . 1_ • "
Yet in factual and moral concerns, in literary work and in ence ~ a so ution. to any prob ems w.I~e y Jmown. and dee~_:' 'H
political analYSiS, the qualities of this, imagination are regularly pondered b~ larger mtellectuul commun;ties and cultur::U publics.
demanded. In a great variety of expressions, they have become T!lcse deve~o~ment.s h~"e been. correctly s:e~ as a rescit
central features of intellectual endeavor and· cultural sensibility. hlghly speCIalized mqwry. and nnprcpedy re!t to be wonder­
-;;:"f \ ,! Leading"'Critics exemplify these qualities as do' serious JOUrnal- fully mysterious. They have raised .mo~e pr.oblems-?oth •
"","':'1 ists-in fact the work of bOlll is often judged in these terms. iectual and moral-than they bye sOl"ed,an.a,~e pr~:::7
Popular categories of criticism-l?igh,· middle, and Iow~brow, for hn.v·- lie almost entirelv in the are:1 of social not phvsir-: i
.'~'~: .! example-are now at least as much sociolOgical as aesthetic. Nove!- ~ The obvious conquest 9f nature,. the overcoming c:f
, ., ~ ists-whose serious work eI:lbodies the most widespread definitions scarcity.., is felt by men of the overdeveloped societies tp be
. '~'. ... :4 of hwmm.rea1ity-frequently possess this imagination, and do virtually complete, And now in these societies, science-the ch:e::fi t·

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 ~r*ltl\~~.;~');~;~;'~~W1~~~':'~';~"~~;<!j~~~rr;4';'(;t~~:r~f~~~~.~~:T;·;:~.
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: THE S.OCIOLOGICiL"IMAGINATION, ':{ ~ '. THE '~O.USI . .,";-.
.,~

,
1"­
• . 1.:.·
.
,,:,,~*

~., '

":"iOstrum~t oEtIUs conquest"":'h

.
in Deed, of re-appraisaJ.
felt to be Eoot1oOse.. '~~ss" a:nd
.' -"
~media'ol comiilunication~ and all that these mean for seriol':':':
literarY Pfoduction. It is also owing to tbevery quality of t1:e
Jt.
"

.~
.

The modem esteem. for science has long beeDDlerely assumed,
but now the technological ethos and the kin4' of engineer­
ingimagination associated with science ate more likely to be
frightening and ambiguous than hopeful and progressive. Of
.
i :. .
course this is not all there is to 'science: but it is feared that this
could become all that there is to it. The felt .need to' reappraise
I"
i" physical science reflects the need for a new common denomi­
.!
t nator;'It is' the human meaning and the social role of science. its
military and commercial issue. its political significance that are
history of our times. and tbeJdnds of need men of seosibili::;
..,
feel to -grasp. that quality.
What Bction. what journalism. what. artistic endeavor C"­
~ compete with the historical reality and political facts of our tim·.=:
-f \Vh3t dramatic vision of bell can compete with the evcI:J.ts c=
twentieth-century war? What moral denunciations can meas\!:'-:
up to the moral insensibility of men in the agonies of prima..-:r
.t:.,..
accumulation? It is.P9ci,f!;1 and historical re:.ilitt that m~o WilllLt=
~-­ ~9)Y. and often they do nQ1J:,!n~~~~~~porary literature.an a~e­ ", ?

undergoing' confused re-apprais~l. Scientific developments of
Ii i':',.,I'. weaponry may lead to the 'necessity' for world political rearrange­
i ';::, ments-but such 'neceSSity" is not felt to be solvable by physical
science itself.
; ; ,~
Much thathasassed for 'science' is now felt to b
phI oso . much at is h 1
ubioUs
felt to
l?fovi e only confused fra~ents of th= realities among which
men live. Men of science, it is widely felt, no longer try to picture
reality as a whole or to Pfesent a true outline of human destiny.
:
Moreover, 'sc,ience' SMmS to map}' less a. creative ethos and a man­
ner of orientation than a set'of S' ce achines 0 erated'by
t~c IllClans and contra ad by economic and milit~· men w .0
Qeither embodr fter tHiQ@;it1nd SC~$ etbO'u~pd orientation.
In the meantime, philosophers wno speak in the name of science
ofte:t tr:msform it into 'scientism: miling out its experience to be
identical with human experience, and claiming that only by its
method can the problems of life be solved. ,With all this, many
cultural workmen have come to feel that 'science' is a false and
pretentious Messiah, or ll.t the very least a hlghly ambiguous
element .in modern civilization.
;; ..
But there are, in C. P. Snow's phrase, 'iwq cultures': the sci­
entific and t..~e hmPnniwc, WheL~er as 1iistory or drama. as
l5lOgraphy, poetry or fiction, the essence of ~e humanistid' culture
has been literature. Yct it is now frequently suggested that serious
literature has in many ways become 3; minor art. If this is so, it
is not merely because of the development of mass publics and
:~
quate means !9.!', knowing .it. They y~::r~for facts, they search Ie!'
, r."
f­ their meanings. they want 'a big picture' in \vhic.~ they c:m be­
~.
lieve and within which they can ·come to understand themselve::.
f­
,! They want orienting values too. and suitable ways of feeling a:c.c
i
., styles of emotion and vocabularies of motive. And they do I!C"C
rdadiIy Bnd thcse in the literature of today. It does not mat!:::::
whether or not these qualities are to be found there; what .matte:::o
is that men do not often find thelIl there.
In the past. literary men as critics and historians made note~
OD England and on Journeys to America. They tried to ch:lI:l...:­
tcrize societies as wholes, and to discern t.'1eir moral me:min'Z3..
Were Tocqucvil!e or. Taine alive teday, would they net '~~
sOciologists?Asking this question about Taine, a reviewer in Tr...c
Times (London) suggests: .
T3ine n!\}"llYs saw ~n, primarily as a social :l!".il'llal and society ;u
:1 collection of groups: he could observe minutely, was a tireless 2e:.=
. w.;;rker :md possessed a quality •.. particularly valuable for pe!'ce~-:,­
ing rcbtioJ;lShipS between social phenomena-the quality of spring:=:­
ness.He W:lS too interested in the present to be a good rustori:m" t::c
~l!cl! of a theorist: to try !lis h:md as a novelist, and· he thoug::= ==
litcr:xture too much as dOCUr::lc!lt:l'ln the culture 0: an ace or country :::
?chleve first-class status as a critic, .. His ;vork on E~glish lit~r.lt-..:..-::,
lS less about EDglish literature than a comment:uy on the morality c
English society and n vdude fo. his positivism. He is a social the;=--...::
before:ill else. 1 -'
Th:lt he remained a 'literarj man' rather than a 'social sde::::­
tist" testifies perhaps to the domination of much nineteent."!-ce:::.­
1 Times Literary Supplc~~t, l~ November 1957. •

I::: F
/.
"
 ~~;'(.it~~~;i;":f.is', :'>'f.:~:"~(7.:;~: ¥;)~1·~)~'r·'· ." .
THE SOCtOLqGICAL tMAGINAT
tu:y. s~iai' science by the zealous s,earch for '-l3ws' pres~ably
'comparable to, those imagined to be foun,d by naturalscientists•.
In the absence of an adequate social science, critics. and novelists,
dramatists and poets have been the major, and often the only,
formulators of private troubles and even of public issues. Art does
express such feelings and often focuses them-at its best with dra- .
~\.m ,., ''','''~'!:h~I.'l!¥,''''''
";:":<;'c"..'"
TN ~::P'''OMISE'
" ',9
'A~ any given moment, of course, 'social science' consists of
what duly recognized social scientists are dOing-but all of them
nrc' by 00' means doing the same thing, in fact not even the same
sort of .thing. Social science is also what social scientists of the
P:1st l1:we done-but ~ercnt students choose to, construct and
to rcc~U different trawtions in their diScipline. When I speak of I

!
'the pr9fJlise .0£ social s~ience: I hopcit is clear that I mean the
r ';"
matic sharpness-but still not with the intellectual clarity required
for their understanding or relief today. Art does riot and cannot
r. promise as I :See it. . ' , ,
t' '

i
I
formulate. these feelings as problems containing the troubJes and
1 issues men must now corifront if they are to overcome thei! uri­
easinep imd indifference and the, intractable miseries to which
J
l '
these lead. The artist, indeed, does not often try to do this. More­
-over, the serious artist is himself 'in much trouble; and could
I
r ,Just now, among social scientists, there is '\\oidespread uneasi­
t: :­ ness, both intellectualllJld moral, about the direction,their chosen
k studies 'seem to be taking. This uneasiness, as well as the unfor­
1:,'
r tunate tendencies that contribute to it, are, I, suppose, p;.;rt of a
gt'ncraJ malaise of contemporllry intellectual life. Yet perhaps
I

s
!i well do with some intellectual and cultural aid from a social ,
,!­
thc uneasiness is more acute among social scientists, if only e
science made sprightly by the SOCiological imagination. bt.'ciluse of the l::trger pr.omise that hus gUided much earlier work
in their .fields, tile nature of the subjects with .whlch they deal.
f
Ii;
5 i lIlId the urgent need for significant work today.
~
~
r;:
It is my aim in this book to define the meaning, ,C?f the social Not everyone sh:u-es this uneasiness, but the f;tct that many
,sciences lor the cultural tasks of our time. I waJ?t to specify the do riot is itself a cause £oz: further, uneasiness among those who ~
:<1
i kinds of effort that lie behind the development of the sOciologi­ {:
'nllt never mind,. With the hope of not being too widely misunderstood,I a
II cal imaginatiOn; to indicate' its implie:ltions for political as well as
~

bow to convention nnd we the more st:mdard 'social sciences.'

: for culturallifej and perhaps to suggest something of what is re­ One other point: I hope my colleague~ will nccept the term 'soc~o- .-:...
. quired to possess it. In these ways, I ,want to make clear the 10':lc:11 imagb:ltion: PolitiC:1l scientists who have :e:ld my m:mllScript suggc~~ j1:
~
nature and the uses of the social sciences today, and to gi,:e a . 'tl!1I politiC:1l imngi!l:ltioo'; anthropologists, 'the ant.1u-opo!ogic:11 imagination'­
!\:
limited account of their contemporary condition in the United· alltl $a oli. The term matters less than the ,idea, which I bop~ will become ""­
~
• f, . deaf in the course of this book. Dy use of it. I do not of COurse want to 1;:
Sto. t cS,­ i ~u~gcst mcrely the aonueclie discipline of 'SOciology: ~luch of wbt t.hCl
-c:
. ~
: I feel the need to say thllt I much prefer the phrase, 'tlle soclal.ssudies' to {'!:rase means to me is not at all expressed by sodologis~s. In E:lgl::.:ld, :'~

'the social sciences'-oot because I do not like physical scientists (on t:!iecon­ fer example. SOciology as llI1 academic discipline is still somewhat margin:!l,
~
t:;Y:-I ao, very much). but because the word 'science' has acquired great yet ill much English journalism, .fiedon. and above all history. the socioiogid !~

prestige nnd tather imprecise meaning. I do not feel any need to kidnap the Im:l;:;ination is very \Veil developed indeed. Tll.:! case is sioilar for Fr:..nce: ~
prestige or to make ~he mea.n!.."lg eve::l less ptecise by usi..'g it as a philo­ !:()~h the confusion and the audacity of Fre::lch re.!!eceO:l since Wodd Vi:.: ~:
:,.....
sophic:!l mebphor. Yet I ruspCGt that if I wrote about 'the social studies: . Two rest upon its feeU.'")~ for .the sOciologiC':U features of l:lan's iate in ::ll:.:
readers would thi.-..k 0:11y of hi;h sc!!col civics; which of all Belds of human lime, yet these trends llre Cl:."Tlcd by men of letters rather th:l..." by Feres. ~
lenming is the one with which I most wish to avoid associatio::t. 'The Be­
haviord Scic.'1ces· is s:mply.impossible; it was thought up, I suppose, as a
&iGnal sooioJogists. Nevertheless. I use '$Ociologic:l.l imagination' bec.:msc:
( 1) e\'ery cobbler thi.r:.ks leather is the only thing, nnd for better or wo:~c, I ..

;.,e
,~

t
p:op:lpnd:l devke to get money fOf social 'research from Foundatio~ and :1m a sociologist; (2 j I do be!leve that !J.i~toric!l-Ily the quality of miIld hl.S
Cyncrcssmen who !.~nfuse 'social science' with 'socialism.' The best term hl.'!!n more frcqtler.th· and t:loro vividly dispb,ved by cbssic scdoJocist:; th.:.n ~
would incltltlc m;tory (and psychology. so fur as it is concerned with human u,v other social Sci~ntists; (3) since I a~ gobS' to ex:imine crltiC:J.lly 3 '4T
.
beings l. and should be ns ~on·con!:rovorsial :l.S pOSsible. fOf we should argue number of curious SOciolOgical schools. I need :l counter term all w~JC:l to ~

:;t:md, . ~;

u:it], terms, not froht ewer them. Pe:h::!ps 'the hum:m diSciplines' would do.
...
",

"'­
• II
I ' ,'!­ .

·-.-i

 '':;'';;~;'.<,;<;;:~;;':'';J!''':;'~~~f.i';::';:~;;~~:«_, '~,: ;" ,':r.~:~r.,,~~i:!t:r~;:,i;~~i;",::;'1~:f';";'=.'" "71

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.
' . ' , ', , ..,::.,; - , " . ' "" ,·';')¥'~:f:. 'c. "':i; - ." .
an~. alert to t~' promise aad hoaes~, :ellough .to a~t the ~reten. Somespedaliie,·thiir'wdrk acc:ording ,~o .aca~e~ic, dePart::nents;
tious ,.medi~tyof much current effm:t It 1S~ qwte ~ankl)', my; others, drawing upon all· departments, speC1a~e accor~g to
hope to increase this uneasiness, todeSne some of Its sources,~: t ic
or problem, regardless of where these lie acadenuc:illy.
to help transform it into·a speci8c urge t,o realize th~~pro~~~. ;;me confront the variety of history, biography, society; oe.hers
social science, to clear the grouncI: for new beginnings: in snort, to i d not. _ ""',. .,.-_. ; , ", ". '.: .
indicate some of the; tasks~~~h~d and,~e rp~ available for; <'~Su~ cOntr~~.;~~ ~~y p~ers.~of similarldnd, are not n~s­
i· doing the work that must now. be- done; . , <It ~. ~ly'!J"Ue al,t.~tives, altJ:lough m th~ ~ea~ of statesman-like
, '
I , . '. . ...~;td" :' ; controversy or the lazy safety-of.speClalization they are ofte:::l
1
j ~- Of. late ):he conception of social science I hold has not been; t::!.ken to be. At this point I merel), state them in inchoate form;
ascendantj My conception stands opposed to s inl science as a !.: I shall iElturn to 'them' toward the end of this book. I am hopeful
I!' . set of bureaucratic techni u~ which inhibit social m Y Fz of course that all my own biases will show. for I think judgments
I:! ' • "metho 0 0 ca retension, obscur. ~" should' be e..~:plicit. But I am also trying, regardless of my own
- anti _conce tions, or which, trivialize it b concern~~ miner I.
judgments, to state the ,cultural and political meanings of social
robI ct \\ . . issues. These inhi.:
science. My biases are of c?urse no more or no less biases tha=
bitions~ obscurities, and trivialities have created a crisis in the . those I am going to examin.e. Let those ',vho do not car~ ,for mine
social studies today without suggesting. in the least, a wfly out of use tbeir rejections 'of them to make their own as expliCIt and as
that crisiS) ..', •. . / ; . uckno\vledged as I am going to try to make minel Then the moral
Som~ social scientists stress .the ..need fo0es~ch teams of; l~roblcmsof.soc1als~dr-~e ~roble:n of. socia~ science as a
techniCIanS: others for the ptlmacy.· o£:;,the mdividunl scholar.. public issue-will be recogmzed, and discUSSlon·will become p~~­
Some. e.'\-pcod great coergy upon r~ements of methods and .' sible. Then there will be gr,ea~ self-awaren~ss flll around-v,.rucn
techniques of investigation; o,th~rs,~ the scholarly ways of is of co~ a' pre-condition for objectivity in' the enterpr..se of
the intellectual craftsmen are being al?andoned and ought now· social science.as Ii whole. . . '
to be rehabilitated. Some go about their work in accordance with I In brief, I believe that \vho.t may be call(\!d classic social ::.::o:Uy­
a rigid set of mechanical procc9uresi, others seek to develop, to sis
is a defbiable and_ll.s!tble $.~traditions; th.!tjt:L.!a~s.brhl
invite, and to use the sociological imagination.-Some-being ad- !c:l.tUre is theco~cern with rustorjc::1 social structures; and th:::.t
. dicts. of the high formalism~ of-!theor:;--asSociate and disassociate its problems are of direct relevance to ,?,g~.! E,ublic is~~_s and
ccnceptsin what seems to others a curious manner; these others insi!itcnt humanbnlibJBs) I alSo believe that there are now gre:lt
urge the elaboration of terms only when it is clear that it en- ohsta-des in the way:of this tradition's continuing-both \.itbin
larges the scope of sensibility and furthers the reach of reasoning. the social sciences and in their academic and political settings-
Some narrowly study only small-scale milieu."C, in the hope of Imt that nevertheless the qualities of mind that constit-utei: rue
'building up' to conceptions of larger structures; ot~ers e.'::lmi:lc bccomina a common denominator of OUI' general culrur.:tl life
social structures in which they try <to .locate' many smaller, and tha~ however vaguely and in howev~l' a confuSing vt:...-iety
Inilieu.'C. Some, neglec~g c~mparativ~ studies ~together, s~dy of disguises, they are coming to be felt as a need.
only one small, commumty m ,one SOCIety at a .tllne;otI:ers m i l ; ~tany practitioners of so.cial science; especially" in AmetiC.:l,
fully comparative way work dIrectly on the national,socIaI struc· St't:m to me curiously reluctant to t~ up the ch@lenge that noy.;
_ tures of the world. Some confine, their exact rese:!l'ch to v~?' <.:cnfronts them. .Many m fact\abdicate the intellectual and the
short-run sequences of human. affaIrs. others are concerned WIth political tasks of social analysis;! others no do.ubt are sin::lply ;:lot up
issues which are only apparent in long historical perspective.. to the role for which they are
nevertheless being cast. At times

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'J; '~"'.Jif" . ,." ,._' ~~. . MIla
'~~dr'ih . ~_,': ~-~ . , ',-'1ti..:?- . "7~'v~f~~~':"'" ", ir,~,:', '>~:',;~; j;'?t:, '"'~"~".' '-~;IF" ~}~;:';:~Zj~';,'L~:";.;y.·,;;,, .." .' .
" ' ):t :~', '" "22' ;:;.,.'~,:> : :"'.~"'" ~ :'TH(SOciq OGICkL rMItG~N~. ON ~ YHI"'PROjiis' . ." '". "', . -... ' ~-'", '. - 23

~ ., Ii':' <,' ~·~·deU~~td~~gJ;t ~d:;;;:~·' .. ' •.~'~ fo!::':l~d o~"Of i.sue~~~ "'ews
C •

.~/~

.',i they £orlh which

, ; :-'-,,' ,developed neW ~di~s:.'Yet"d:pit:):b~,f~uctance,·iiltellec?~al . : . , (u~aUy glooJjlit,'ooeS) of the future. The works of Aroo.ld Toyn­
j, ' as well 'as 'public attention is now" sQ,,,ob~ously upon the SOCIal i'" bee _~~of .O~~d Sp~glcr are, well-known e:tamples. J
i" worlds which they presumably study that It must be agreed that
they are uniquely confronted with anopportunity. In, this oppor- , r
- -, -, , .
Tendency II: ,Toward,~ systematic (theoR,bf 'the nature of man
(

~ty:.~et.:c)s t:~v~~d~,-~,e)~;~~;,~~f~'?F~~o~?~~, ~al . .::,:", ~:tll¥L~?e.ety·~.• Z;:?~,:7't~P~~~ in. th~\\~erkS'ti~~ formalists. notably
SClcnces. the cultur,~ use~OLthe sOCjolo~c31lD1agmation, and the" ~: -, tSiJllfllcl and V:~n ~ylcse,.soclOlogy comes to deal in conceptions
1" ::"
:f .. i. political meaning of ~es of man ~~.~Q¢iety., ' ,C/, , ,'1,'0. l' ~t~Dd~ ~o ~: of:use ~ cbssifying ~ll s~l relations and pro­
~ OJ, ,\-"1dmg lDSlght, mto ·theu-supposedly mvanant features. It is. in
• j; ~~, :'.. 6 ;- _
c:
'short, concerned with a' rather static and abstract view of the
~~ :!
'; Embarrassingly enough for an avowed sociologist, all the, un- ,~: component:$ o£~ocialstructure on: a quite high level of generality{
V>' fortunate tendencies (e:<:.c~pt pOSSibly one,) that I shall cc;msider _ Pcrh~ps in reaction to the distortion of Tendency I, history cm
i in the follo ......ing chapters fall int9 what is generally thought to be ' be altogcther abandoned: the systematic theorY of ,the n~t:!re of
1 'the fidd of sociology: although the culturo.! and,political abdica- : m:m and of SOciety· all too readily becomes 'an elaborate and
I . tion implicit in them no doubt characterize much of the daily arid formalism in which the splitting of Concepts and their end­
work in other social sciences. Whatever may be true in such. less rc:ur.mgementbecomes the central endea-;"or~ Amon" what
disciplines as' politico.! science and economics, history an,d an­ I shall Call GraIld Theorists, conceptions have indeed become
thropology. it is evident that in the United States today what is Concepts; The work of Talcott Parsons is the leadin'" contemno­
lcnown as sCciology has become the'center of reflection about r:u-y~Cxainple in ~enc:msociology. ) ':' ..
social science., It h:::.s become the center for interest in methods; ,
and, in it one alSo finds the, most extreme interest in 'general. \ 'TendenctJ III: Towa.rd·--emeiri~al studies of coutemporary so­
theory: A truly remarkable variety of intellectual workhas entered ciiM facts:~~r~ Although Comte and Spencer were IIlaE­
into the development of the SOciological tradition. To interpret sta,'s of AnleIic~al, science until 1914 or thereabout. and
this variety as A Tradition is in itself audacious. Yet'perhaps it will Cc~an theoretical influence was heavy, the empLric:l! survey
be generally agreed that .what is now recognized as SOciological became central in the United States at an early time. In part
this 'resulted from the prior acaderriic establishment of econom­
---
work has tended to move in one 9r more of .tht.ee general direc­
tions, each of which is 'subject
the ground.
.
to
.
dis~oition.
, to being run into
'.
ics and
dc.£ined
political
as a study
science.
of some
Given this, m so far as sociology is
special area of SOciety. it readiiy be­
!

;.
·r Tendency I: TQw~d a theory of~ For examp!e. in th.e'
bands of Comte. as 10 those of Marx, Spencer. and Weoer, SOC1­
comes a sort of odd job man among the social sciences. consist­
ing of miscellaneous studies of academic leftovers. There are
studies of cities and fnmilies, racial and ethnic relntio!ls, ~nd 0;
ology is an encyclopedic endeavor., concerned with the whole of course 'small groups: As we shall see, the: resulting miscellany
i :: m~'s social li£a. It is at once historica1~ and systematic-his tori­ was transformed into a style of thought, whi6 ! shall e:-::u:J..i.ne
! ~.

, cal, 'because it deals with and uses the materials of the 'past; under the tenn 'liberal practicality.l\
systematic, bec:luse it does so in order to disc~ 'the- stages' of ... Studies of contemporary fact can easily become a series 0;
the· course of history and the regularities of social life. r:J.ther unrelated' and often insignificant facts of milieu. Man)'
The theory or man's history can all too readily become distorted
course offerings in American sociology illustrate this; perhap.>
~-
into a trans-historical strait-jac.l<et into which the materials of
lc:ttboo1cs in the field of social disorg~tion reveal it best. On

,,
II
I
1\':
i" ,
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./
1
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'H.,~

"
"!I!
24 TKE SOCIOlOGICAL iMAGINATION' '.>p'.
.;'
the oth~ hand, sociologists have tended to beco~e specialists ,:~

1
in the technique of research into almost anything; among them f
methods have become Methodology. Much of' the work-nnd :
mOre of the ethos-of George Lundberg, Samuel Stouffer, Stuart
Dodd. Paul F. Lazarsfeld are
present~day examples. These
tendencieS-to scatter one's attention and to cultivate method for
on
//
L!;:::J ~
l:lfl'i;
~~1
its own sake-are fit companions, although they do not necessarily rl
OCCur together. . " Grene! 1heory ";7
~j

..
The peculi:rrities of sociology may be understood as distor. G
~

tiorls of one or more of its traditional tendencies. But its proin­
ises may also be understood in terms of these tendencies. In the
United 'States today there has conlt.:: about a $ort 'of Hellenistic
acnlg::uuation, embodying varil)us elements and aims from the
sociologies of the, several Western societies. The danger is that
~!
!.ET '(.,"3 BEGIN ..•...ith a sample of grand theory, taken from Tu!~!t
P;.u-sons' The So~.al Systcm-v.idc1y rcg.:.rded ns a most i=!pcr...;.nt
book u1 a most em:Qlcnt r.:!p:icscntative cf the s~)'lc. to

amidst such sociological. abundance, other social scientists will ..."'"'".

;.'I!
become so' impatient, and sociologists be in such a· h\lI'l"Y, for At! element of a shared symbcue system which servcs ns a, CritetiOil ~
'research,' that they will lose hold of a ~y valuable.legiIcy.
or sundard for selection among the alternativcs of orientation which
ari?i""'ItrlnsiciUly open in ~ si~t:!on may be called a v.tlue... nut £''V:n
~ld
But t~re is also an opportunity in our condition: the sociological this motivatiot!:U orient:l.tion asrct o{ the tot:1.lit:;" of actio:) it is, in
-4
tra~tion contains the' best statements of the full promise of \-iew of the role of symoolic systems, necessary to· di~tin!!uish a 'v:l.Iue.
,~
the social sciences as a whole, as well as some partial fullill­ orie:'ltatipn' :I-"'Oect. This aspect concerns, not the mc-.millg of the ~. '"
~

ments of it. The nuance end suggestion, that students of soci~ pccted state ot afbirs to -t.'le act:;r in terms of his gratificaticn-deprr;:._
tion b:J4nce but th3 ccntont of the selective st::muarck t!:::::,::n~eh"Os.

...~

ology can find in their traditions are not to be briefly summarized.

The concept of "'nluc-orientatio~ i:1 this· sense is thus tile lo'.tic.:ti Ce­ ~

but any social scientist who takes them in hand will be richly vice for fonnclo.ting one oont:"::l =-..,-pect of the articulation o(cclt:.::..":l.l ~
~

rewarded. His mastery of them mny readily be turned into new tr:).ctions into t..'le action S'o'stem. ~
orientations for his own work in secial science. It fellows crCIn the derl:':ltio!l of nor=::ative orient:l!ion und the role .~

I shall retum to the promises of social science (in chnpte:::s of v:.1uc:; b :lction llS st:lted above, th:1t all v:'h:o:; invllh ~ what nav J

Seven through Ten), :uter an examination of some of its more be c.:ille:l ... social reference•.. I~' is inherent in nn :lctio·.!· :lvstcrn tm't ~;

::ctiO:l is, to use one phr:lSe, 'nor:::atively oriented: Tf' i0110'\\'5, as \"as
~,

;.
habitual distortions (chapters TW01:hrough Sb:). . sno\t,;n, from t.\e concept of e...:pc-c::ations and its plar.: irl actioD thea..., ".
ft
c~re::::aily in the 'active' phtise b. which the D.?tor pllrsues gcnls. E:-;.
:)~:.::::t.:O!!'; tbm, b co!:!b!n:!tio:! '.vil~ the 'dO'.~l)J.: ·'::';ntill~.:::~"/ cf :}.~
r
1;.'
i~
prcc':!ss of interaction as it bs Deen called, create n Cruci:lliy iOP.:!f2.' 4";'

liVe! p~oble:n of order. Two nspec!:s of this prc,bl(;m (jf urdu m:n' b
fi;
~
tum =~ distinguished. crCt:'f in th; :;YInbollc 5y$tC::r:~ \'/l!idl ma.J.:e ~::l'
mll.;l:.:a.tion possible, a.,d Cider i:::l t.l:!e mutuality of moti'l:ltioo:tl O:leIl. l
t:!t:on to :.i.e normative a.spect cf c::pecto.tions, the 'Hobhesi:m' p:ob­
km of order.
T~e problem of order, and
. . I
t!:::..; of the na.ture of the iutegra.t:cn of
st;,ble 'systems of social iIlter:!c!:ion, that is, of social structure: tnt:.>
~
25 I
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