Vilfredo Pareto’s Sociology
x
science librarians, as far as I know, bidding on behalf of their institutions or the
discipline – the social science autograph letters and manuscripts in most cases went
into the hands of private collectors. What factor does age, authenticity, significance
of past impact, or potential for current illumination play in weighing the value of
classic texts and ideas in sociology? Is the study of classical sociology part of the
exercise of the history of the discipline, or part of
social theory or methodology,
dependent on the topicality of substantive themes past and present, or perhaps a
mixture of all of these concerns? In the course of this preface I offer some responses
to these questions.
Sometimes sociologists are presented with an option in relation to the problematic
status of classical sociology, between either a concern with engaging with the real
world (by which is meant current and contemporary topical issues and concerns) or
engaging with the texts of the past. The context for this option is clearly a situation of
limited resources (or limited time tables), since scholars are being asked to choose or
prioritise, and the conclusion is foregone given the vocation and value commitments
of most sociologists to illuminate if not ameliorate current conditions. However,
making this choice in these terms actually misunderstands the nature and role of
classical sociology and the nature of contemporary sociological practice too. For
example, it is not possible to read and understand the classic
texts without engaging
with the ‘real world’ since at a minimum the examples required to interpret and
understand the text can only come from the ‘real world’ and so an ignorance of
the real world restricts interpretation; the better informed one is about the real
world, the better the understanding of the classic author. Equally, when looking at
the ‘real world’ in apparent isolation from the classical tradition, the sociological
enquirer naively denies the presence, often unconscious, of the ideas of the classical
sociologist on their very activity.
This distinction between ‘real world’ and ‘classic texts’ is
also not to be encouraged
because it drives a wedge between past and present which can become more or less
unbridgeable as time moves on. However, when it comes to the concerns of the
discipline the classics are our contemporaries: it is texts that perhaps derive from
before the onset of modernity which are separated from us by a major temporal and
cultural gulf. Nonetheless, there are ideas afoot within sociology that would insist
on the gulf between past and present and question the engagement with classical
sociology.
Talcott Parsons once famously and ironically asked: ‘Who now reads Herbert
Spencer?’ The question was ironic since he himself obviously
was reading Spencer,
and he continued to do so throughout his career – to be influenced by him and also to
differentiate his conception of evolutionary sociology from Spencer’s. The
sociology
of Pareto also bears a relation to Parsons’ 1937,
The Theory of Social Action. Clearly,
Parsons had read Pareto very closely indeed, as the sections devoted to the latter in
the 1937 text demonstrate, and there are significant features of Parsons’ own system
that many commentators might trace to the influence of Pareto. Nonetheless, it is
important for us to pose the question: who now reads Pareto? We should be thankful
that Alasdair Marshall, the author of the volume to which this is the preface, has been
reading Pareto, and I invite the reader to engage with his
work to ascertain in what
Series Editor’s Preface
xi
ways and to what ends, and with what successes, that rereading of Pareto in the light
of contemporary questions has been carried out.
If we can adapt a Paretian principal, once used in welfare economics, we can
say that if at least one person benefits from Marshall’s work and no one else is
adversely affected that the author will have achieved a ‘Pareto-improvement’!
Actually, Marshall’s book will have more of an impact than that, and more than one
person or discipline will be affected, especially because
it seeks to build bridges
between contemporary political psychology and Pareto’s classical writings and does
this through bringing aspects of Pareto’s psychology into analytical alignment with
psychoanalytic literature and the results of much empirical work. The application of
Pareto’s sociological ideas to the collected data, including a survey of Westminster
MP’s, involves working with psychometric testing – not a procedure with which all
sociologists are familiar, let alone completely comfortable, especially those more
familiar with the interpretative traditions in classical sociology. All in all, therefore,
Marshall’s book is a challenging dialogue with a classical
sociological thinker
which raises important methodological issues and is an example of how classical
sociological texts are being approached by a new generation of scholars.
With this volume our series begins to fulfil its ambition of including work that
brings attention and reassessment to classical authors who can be overlooked in
the history of sociology or who have not received recent critical attention to the
detriment of the discipline or the analysis of specific areas of substantive enquiry.
Previous volumes in our series of Rethinking Classical Sociology have had for their
subject matter the work of Marx, of Weber and of Durkheim – names commonly
associated with the classical tradition whose status need not be questioned. I am
pleased, therefore, that this volume considers the legacy of Pareto.
I would like to broaden the question of who now reads Pareto? I would like to
ask: why should we read the sociological classics? The sociological classics can
be read for a variety of purposes – both grudgingly and
with enthusiasm no doubt
– and hence the answer to the question is not singular. I only comment on a few
approaches given limitations of space. We have yet to publish a volume that deals
directly with questions of method in treating classical sociological texts, so I hope
my remarks may stimulate others to take on a book-length investigation of these
important methodological issues. The latter would also consider the ‘how?’ of re-
reading classical sociology as well as the ‘why?’
Pareto’s work has been of importance to sociology at different times and
in various respects since the publication of his
Trattato di sociologia generale
(1916) written some 8 years before his death. For example, the study of elites
(and their circulation)
owes a good deal to Pareto, and the Hawthorne studies of
workers and all the work that followed in its wake is also a Paretian legacy. And, as
already noted, Talcott Parsons gave Pareto considerable attention in the watershed
publication,
The Theory of Social Action. No doubt additions could be made to
the list. The point is that one reason for reading Pareto as a sociological classic is
because later developments in sociology cannot be understood without knowing
Pareto, and his work needs to be understood if an informed appreciation of those
uses – their successes and false starts – is to be made. The study of the sociological
classics here is justified in a fashion that renders the field of classical sociology