Vilfredo Pareto’s Sociology
2
apply Pareto today, and to look to classical sociology more generally as a source of
inspiration for political psychology.
As we explore the theoretical framework set down by Pareto, we will discover
that at its core rests a theory of personality which can be a little too convincing.
We all rely upon what psychologists call ‘implicit personality theories’ to make
unconscious judgements about how personality traits are bundled together in other
people. These mental templates always remain vulnerable to change as we encounter
new circumstances. Pareto’s ‘implicit personality theory’ is an ever-present feature
of his sociology. As it appears again and again in subtly different guises, it can easily
work subliminally upon us to transform our own assumptions about personality.
The danger grows when we find ourselves productively applying Pareto’s
theory to
analyse all sorts of complex situations, becoming more impressed by its explanatory
power on each occasion.
It is therefore worth stressing at the outset that Pareto’s sociology becomes
dangerous where it succeeds most effectively. On the one hand, it gives us a very
distinctive and elegant theory which we can operationalise in many ways; on the
other hand, it provides exactly the kind of simplifying ideological system which is
yearned for by those who would rather let their minds run in grooves,
than tolerate the
immense and growing complexity of the social phenomena which they would try to
understand. Pareto was himself an aggressive critic of all ‘isms’, and it seems likely
that he would have been the first to advocate that we regard his theoretical system as
a valuable tool, which we may wish to put down once we are done with it.
Pareto remains well-known for his economic writings. Following his pioneering
work in mathematical economics, we still hear of ‘Pareto curves’ and ‘Pareto
optimality’. Pareto’s name has also travelled far beyond the boundaries of his own
thought, thanks to his famous ‘80–20 rule’, which has been rearticulated within
various professions towards very practical ends.
1
Pareto’s own application of this
rule is easily the most fascinating. His ‘law of income distribution’ claimed that in
every society 20% of the population are likely to own 80% of the wealth.
Pareto thus
seemed to be providing empirical evidence for a natural distribution of talents. This
invited the condemnation that his real agenda had been to contribute to the armoury
of ideas used by the conservative right to assert its belief in natural inequality.
Although Pareto’s reputation as an economist endures, it is less widely known
that later in life, he broadened his intellectual focus to become concerned less with
economics and more with a grandiose sociological project which undertook to
explain how economic processes knit together with social and political processes.
Nobody could have undertaken such a mammoth task without becoming vulnerable
to criticism from many angles. Each of the academic disciplines which Pareto
straddled would later develop towards far higher levels of complexity than he could
1 This 80–20 rule was later articulated as ‘the rule of the vital few and the trivial many’
when carried by Joseph Juran into the field of Quality Management.
It was now argued that
20% of product parts are likely to be responsible for 80% of product defects. Another common
application was in the economics of building construction, where it was contended (largely
without empirical verification) that just 20% of design time into a building project, 80% of the
costs of the building are likely to have been committed.
Introduction
3
possibly have foreseen. When judged by the standards that would arise within these
professionalised disciplines, Pareto could only appear as a dilettante. Psychologists
have certainly tended to find Pareto’s sociological theory wanting. William McDougall
claimed as a professional psychologist to feel ‘offended’ by Pareto’s decision to
neglect the psychological
literature almost entirely, and content himself with terms
which conveyed only highly generalised and often vague psychological references
throughout his sociological writings.
2
This may seem a damning indictment indeed,
particularly given Berger and Luckman’s (1971, 220) controversial estimation that
Pareto stands out amongst early sociologists as having begun to develop ‘the most
elaborate approach to the psychological pole within sociology’.
Berger and Luckman’s view is contestable with reference to various classical
sociological texts. For example, we might consider Robert Michels’ sharper focus
upon the psychology of leader-follower interaction within his (1915) ‘Political
Parties’, a text which continues to inform analyses of political bureaucracy
. We might
also note that Pareto’s writings on psychology display much less academic knowledge
of the (then new) discipline of psychology than is found within the psychologically-
educated Georg Simmel’s even earlier work on psychological
aspects of urban
living and the money economy. Simmel’s greater usage of psychological literature
is evident for example within his (1903) ‘The Metropolis and Mental Life’, a work
which still remains a key sociological text on city life. Then there is Durkheim’s
stronger focus upon the implications for social order of the cultural agon bound
by a ‘conscience collective’ and threatened by feelings of anomie. This theory is
associated primarily with Durkheim’s (1893) ‘The Division of Labour in Society’.
Through Talcott Parsons it went on to exert a major influence upon the structural-
functionalist paradigm within US sociology. On top of that, it might well be argued
that Pareto’s orientation towards psychology lacked the very personal, curative
significance which it held for Max Weber, whose convalescences from depressive
illness in Italy at the close of the nineteenth century
inspired him to think deeply
about how subjectively-held, cultural meanings motivate individuals. This thinking
is set out primarily within Weber’s ‘Objectivity’ essay. It is also famously applied
within his classic work on the religious origins of work ethic, ‘The Protestant Ethic
and the Spirit of Capitalism’, which was written alongside the ‘Objectivity’ essay in
1904–1905 (Whimster 2004, 7). Weber’s work on the protestant ethic still provokes
debate concerning the extent to which capitalism has a psychological or religious
dynamic.
We will see within this book that our concern to appreciate Pareto will lead us
to consider
all of
these issues, to varying extents; yet they all relate back to the
sociological classics in their own unique ways, and on each occasion to a thinker
with more to say than Pareto. We will have cause to consider each of these issues
because the scope for Pareto’s conception of social system was so wide as to allow
him to either attend to them directly, or make relevant observations, at least to the
2 McDougall listed 24 major authors in the emerging field
of psychology, including
Freud, Jung and himself, who Pareto failed to mention at all throughout the four long and
meandering volumes of his ‘Treatise on General Sociology’ (Meisel 1965, 26–27).