Hum Stud (2009) 32:419–439 DOI 10.1007/s10746-009-9131-3 RESEARCH PAPER What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? Gregory Bird Published online: 30 December 2009
Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2009 Abstract In this paper, I seek to caution the increasing number of contemporary sociologists who are engaging with continental phenomenological sociology without looking at the Anglo-American tradition. I look at a particular debate that took place during the formative period in the Anglo-American tradition. My focus is on the way participants sought to negotiate the disciplinary division between philosophy and sociology. I outline various ways that these disciplinary exigencies, especially the institutional struggles with the sociological establishment, shaped how participants defined phenomenological sociology. I argue that despite the supposed theoretical, methodological, and substantial differences between these waves of phenomenological sociology, the contemporary wave could benefit from some of the lessons that were learned by their predecessors. Keywords Disciplinarian attitude
Hermeneutics
Interdisciplinary
Phenomenological sociology
Strategic approach Introduction My most recent book…advances a historical-sociological interpretation of the phenomenological movement, and a phenomenological account of contemporary sociology. It argues for a ‘new introduction’ of phenomenology into contemporary sociology; one that, rather than beginning with Schutz’s distinctively American perspective, returns directly to the early modern experience of ‘astonishment’ and to the rich source of Edmund Husserl’s writings, for its inspiration. At the same time a historical-cultural view of G. Bird (&) Department of Sociology, York University, 2060 Vari Hall, 4700 Keele Street W., Toronto, ON M3J 1P3, Canada e-mail: gregb@yorku.ca 123 420 G. Bird phenomenology as a privileged ‘ethnography of the present age’ is presented and elaborated. (Ferguson 2007) Harvie Ferguson’s Phenomenological Sociology: Experiences and Insights in Modern Social Theory presents us with ‘‘a general rapprochement between philosophy and sociology’’ (2006, p. 13). It contains a new terminological, conceptual, and programmatic account of phenomenological philosophy, which is aimed at making sociologists receptive to this literature. What is surprising about his account, however, is that he writes off the entire tradition of phenomenological sociology without seriously engaging with it. He feigns to discuss Alfred Schutz and Max Scheler. Then he casts aside the rest of the tradition’s other notable texts, such as Berger and Luckmann (1966) and Garfinkel (1967), by claiming that they naively duplicated Schutz’s transmutation of phenomenology into pragmatism and functionalism, i.e. mainstream American sociology (2006, pp. 96–97). This still leaves one asking how the new relationship is constituted under friendly terms, i.e. ‘‘rapprochement.’’ The title Phenomenological Sociology connotes that a new guard is starting ex nihilo. Then Ferguson proceeds to claim that the AngloAmericans ‘‘were not so much criticized as ignored’’ (p. 99). In addition, ‘‘[p]henomenology now appears insignificant as a theoretical perspective in sociology… because it has become exclusively associated with a relatively brief period (late 1960s and early 1970s) whose central sociological ideas have gone out of fashion’’ (p. 244). His work, on the other hand, provides us with a ‘‘fresh’’ and an ‘‘unconventional’’ perspective on the way that we can bridge the divide between sociology and phenomenological philosophy. He calls it a ‘‘third way’’ (p. 243), which is based on a ‘‘cross-reading’’ where ‘‘philosophy [is] viewed sociologically, and sociology [is] viewed philosophically’’ (p. 13). Ferguson’s text is exemplary of a growing sentiment amongst a new wave of phenomenological sociologists, especially amongst those of us living outside of the U.S. who are increasingly turning away from the tradition that has come to be to be represented in journals such as Human Studies. In fact, Human Studies is notably left out of Ferguson’s lengthy bibliography. In its place, we find an extensive list of multiple works by more prominent continental phenomenological philosophers. Such an account leaves one with the impression that phenomenological sociologists should appropriate the label while discarding the tradition. This paper takes a different position. I argue that outside of the theoretical, methodological and substantial differences that could distinguish these two waves, there still remains a common question that all phenomenological sociologists have to grapple with: How do we set about bridging the disciplinary divide between sociology and philosophy?1 Those of us who identify with the second wave could benefit from looking at how the first wave sought to deal with this problem. I show this by bringing us back to one of the most basic methodological principles in phenomenology: the way between the investigator and the investigated is embedded within a web of circumstances. The way is circumscribed within a body of relationships that precede 1 For hermeneutical purposes only I will make a distinction between the Anglo-American ‘‘wave’’ and the recent Continental ‘‘wave’’ in phenomenological sociology, however, I am really using it in a parenthesized sense because I seek to challenge such a polarizing distinction. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 421 and shape it. We have to consider how the way a phenomenological sociologist sets out to do the work of bridging the disciplinary divide is bound up with an array of institutional exigencies. This paper is a retrospective account of various programmatic texts that were written during the Anglo-American tradition’s formative period. It will focus on how these texts sought to deal with the institutional exigencies. My contention is that when we seek to answer the question ‘‘What is phenomenological sociology?’’ we are simultaneously trying to do two things: (a) the theoretical work of bridging the divide between sociology and philosophy (the way), (b) addressing the institutional exigencies that circumscribe us as sociologists. Together, the way and the circumstances point us to an even greater exigency, which requires us to prove that we belong to a definite discipline. This leads to what I will call a ‘‘strategic approach.’’ I have chosen to refer to this as an ‘‘approach’’ rather than a ‘‘way,’’ because the notion of ‘‘approach’’ accounts for more than the theoretical problems of bridging the divide between sociology and philosophy as it also takes into account the circumstances, the exigencies, and the other multiple practical concerns. From this perspective, I found five specific strategic approaches emerged in the formative debates in phenomenological sociology: the assimilative strategic approach, the adjustment strategic approach, the adaptive strategic approach, the integrative strategic approach, and the abdicative strategic approach. These approaches tended to range between those that were overtly concerned with institutional exigencies to those that were more concerned with the way. In other words, they range from texts catering to the sociological establishment to those that attempted to distance themselves from it. Method, Parameters and the Question I will employ Paul Ricoeur’s hermeneutical method (1981, 1988), however, in this section I will merely point out one principle that has shaped this paper. He claims that all hermeneutical exercises must begin from the primary ontological condition of belonging, which according to him ‘‘designates the unsurpassable condition of any enterprise of justification and foundation, namely that it is always preceded by a relation which supports it’’ (1981, p. 105). In this paper, the condition of belonging is manifested through a complex set of relations that are entangled between discipline boundaries and the exigencies that are constituted by the web of institutional processes. These extend well beyond the doors of sociology departments. I will outline how this exigency shaped the theoretical and practical discussions about the definition of phenomenological sociology. Choosing a set of texts that represent the Anglo-American tradition in phenomenological sociology was a difficult, if not impossible, task. My scope is limited by certain parameters. First, I only include texts written by those who openly define themselves as ‘‘phenomenological sociologists.’’ Second, I only consider texts from the ‘‘period of expansion and recognition’’ in Anglo-American phenomenological sociology (Wagner 1976, p. 1). This period runs roughly from the mid-60s to the late 70s, although I have included a few retrospective texts that 123 422 G. Bird came after this period. Third, I only focus on texts that were explicitly concerned with addressing the disciplinary problems encountered when defining ‘‘phenomenological sociology.’’ I look at a set of texts that were written in a programmatic fashion. They tended to consist of conceptual exegeses, critical overviews of other texts, and multiple gestures to the institutional exigencies. Finally, since I have attempted to emphasize the interpersonal dynamics that helped to shape this debate, I have selected a sample of texts that were inter-textually rich within this literature.2 The primary source for this survey is a panel that was organized around the question ‘‘When is phenomenology sociological?’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977). I chose this text because it contained the most explicit discussion of the relationship between the strategy and the way. For instance, the context of the panel made it even more focused on the institutional exigencies because it was an ‘‘unofficial ‘Panel and Working Session’’’ at the 1975 American Sociological Association (Wagner 1976, p. 16). At the time, Lewis Coser was the president of the Association and he, with the aid of his likeminded program committee, ‘‘did not schedule any sessions in ethnomethodology and phenomenological sociology’’ (p. 16).3 The problem with using this panel as the basis of my selection is that it limits the scope of inter-textual references that cross through it. The range of interlocutors is limited to those who were selected to participate in this panel and those who the participants in the panel chose to refer to in their discussions at the panel and in other journal articles and books. The panel was almost entirely composed of males and there was no discussion of feminist or anti-racist phenomenological sociology. In the end, my choice to begin from this panel and to focus on texts that were written in a programmatic fashion limited this survey. It meant that several influential texts that were not focused on mere institutional problems during this period, such as applicative studies, were excluded from my scope (for example, Bartky 1975; Circourel 1968; Schur 1971; Smith 1974).4 2 Armstrong (1976, 1979a, 1979b); Berger (1966); Berger and Luckmann (1966); Garfinkel (1967) and Hinkle et al. (1977); Heap (1974), and Hinkle et al. (1977); Heap & Roth (1973); Holzner (1974); Lengermann et al. (1978); Natanson (1973); O’Neill (1972, 1980, 1985), and Hinkle et al. (1977); Psathas (1973), and Hinkle et al. (1977); Rose in Hinkle et al. (1977); Srubar (1984); Tiryakian (1965, 1966), and Hinkle et al. (1977); Wieder in Hinkle et al. (1977); Wagner (1969, 1973, 1975, 1976); Hinkle et al. (1977); Wolff (1978). I have subdivided Hinkle et al. (1977) into eight texts, given that it is a transcription of a panel discussion. 3 Coser’s presidency was highly contentious because he sought to bring functionalism to the forefront in the association by excluding many other schools. This was received as a serious blow by the phenomenological sociologists, especially those who generally applied the assimilative approach. Wagner (1976), notes that prior to this setback there had been steady rise in the presence of phenomenological sociology at these meeting (16). For our purposes, this event also brought out the exigency of belonging more explicitly than we find in any of the other texts. The stakes considering the relationship between the sociological establishment and phenomenological sociology became even more serious. 4 It should be noted that The Social Construction of Reality is a stretch to my scope. First, it comes before the wave of texts considering ‘‘phenomenological sociology.’’ Second, other than a brief statement about the phenomenological method, and a chapter that is based on an interpretation of Schutz’s theory of the everyday, this text does not self-identify as ‘‘phenomenological sociology’’ (1966, pp. 20; 19–46). I have added it because it has often been referred to as a key text in phenomenological sociology. I have the same apprehension with including O’Neill (1972) and Garfinkel (1967) because these texts are more applied than directly programmatic in a manner of the majority of the texts in this scope, however, as is the case with Berger and Luckmann (1966), these texts were referred to extensively in these debates. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 423 Finally, in order to navigate through this debate, I have employed a few hermeneutical terms. These are the ‘‘disciplinarian attitude’’ and the distinction between the ‘‘general front’’ and the ‘‘particular front.’’ First, I found that the desire to belong to sociology was manifested in different degrees through the disciplinarian attitude. It was most apparent in texts that were more attached to definite discipline boundaries. These texts employed different justifications about incorporating philosophy into sociology. In other texts, however, this strain was only indirectly addressed. When they addressed those that were more concerned with the disciplinary issues, they tended to deal with them in terms of theoretical issues. In some instances they failed to recognize these strategic concerns, while in other instances they openly delegitimized them. Either way, the presence of the disciplinarian attitude and the strategies that were used to address it caused a lot of misinterpretation, crosstalk, and outright confusion in this debate. It also meant that its presence was constant and even the texts that purported to be against strict disciplinary boundaries were consistently forced to address the concerns it fostered. This paper will highlight the extent to which this debate became engulfed in addressing and reconfiguring the disciplinarian attitude. Second, I also found that the texts tended to display their desire to belong in different fashions according to the audience they were addressing. For hermeneutical purposes, I will simplify the audiences into the particular and the general audience, which were addressed along the ‘‘particular front’’ and the ‘‘general front.’’ The particular front took place amongst the phenomenological sociologists and was therefore addressed in a more intimate fashion. It includes conference discussions and papers published in journals catering to phenomenological sociologists. On this front, I found that the primary focus was the search for identity. This included a whole array of problems: debates about the sociological relevance of various phenomenological concepts; adjudicating insiders in phenomenological sociology; methodological questions; defining it as a field, sub-field or a paradigm; and, in general, it was theoretically oriented. The primary question the texts sought to address was ‘‘What is phenomenological sociology?’’ The general front took place when the texts sought to address the sociological establishment. These texts tended to be published in general sociology journals. They were also written as general introductions to phenomenological sociology. Instead of trying to set up a detailed account of how to define and identify phenomenological sociology, these texts tended to be concerned with fostering the sociological establishment’s recognition. Therefore, these texts were more concerned with practical problems, such as the pre-established notions of sociology, the degree of attachment to sociology, institutional concerns, departmental priorities, and the relationship between sociology and philosophy. The main question these texts seemed driven by was ‘‘How do we address the disciplinary divisions?’’ On both fronts, I found an overwhelming desire to be included. The particular front displayed the desire to be included in phenomenological sociology, whereas the general front displayed the desire to be included in sociology. This survey is interested in the relationship between these two fronts. I show how the desire to belong in sociology and phenomenological sociology helped to shape the way that the phenomenological sociologists defined themselves. 123 424 G. Bird The Assimilative Approach5 Texts that employ this approach are primarily focused on being recognized by the sociological establishment. They tend to emphasize the potential congruencies between phenomenology and sociology, while glossing over potential differences. These texts give one the impression that they are extremely hesitant and cautionary in the face of the sociological establishment. In some instances, their reluctance to enter into theoretical jargon and debates touches upon condescension. Their real trepidation comes through, however, in other instances when it is explicit that they seek to address what they perceive to be a curmudgeonly adjudicative panel that is about to determine if phenomenological sociologists will be accepted into the association that they desperately want to join. In this literature, these texts receive the most criticism for the way that they attempt to bridge the relationship between sociology and phenomenological philosophy. These texts take a practical—in the everyday sense of the term— stance on how phenomenological philosophy should be related to sociology. There is an implicit argument here that the first priority should be overcoming the institutional barriers that phenomenological sociologists face. That is, until they acquire more resources, which can only be accomplished after phenomenological sociology is recognized by the sociological establishment, phenomenological sociologists should refrain from further alienating themselves. George Psathas (1973) insinuates this when he laments their lack of ‘‘social support’’ (p. 2), which I take to signify peers, departments, funding, etc. Within this literature, Psathas’ ‘‘Introduction’’ to phenomenological sociology (1973) and Edward Tiryakian’s ‘‘Existential Phenomenology and Sociology’’ (1965) are generally referred to as the primary examples of such an approach. The criticisms of these texts tend to overlook the degree to which they are strategic. For example, an exchange between Tiryakian (1965, 1996) and Berger (1966) begins with Tiryakian (1965) explicitly acknowledging his disdain for the ‘‘peripheral’’ treatment that phenomenological sociology was receiving from the ‘‘mainstream of sociology’’ (p. 674). When Berger (1966) criticizes him, he merely focuses on Tiryakian’s zealous attempt to ‘‘synthesize’’ phenomenology with sociology, i.e. the way. Tiryakian (1966) responds by reminding Berger that his approach was more concerned with surmounting the formidable institutional barriers that phenomenological sociologists were facing than he was with theoretical accuracy. The main goal of phenomenological sociologists, claims Tiryakian, is to be ‘‘recognized’’ by the sociological establishment (1966, p. 262). Without recognition, they will never find a solid ‘‘point of departure’’ that will enable them to develop ‘‘a more comprehensive theory of social existence’’ (p. 262). We find a similar argument in Psathas (1973) when he declares that until phenomenological sociology is ‘‘taken-for-granted’’ by the sociological establishment, it will continue to suffer from a ‘‘lack of self-consciousness’’ (p. 17).6 5 Psathas (1973), in Hinkle et al. (1977); Rose in Hinkle et al. (1977); Tiryakian (1965, 1966); Wagner (1969, 1973, 1975, 1976); and Wieder in Hinkle et al. (1977). 6 For the most explicit account of Psathas’ own experiences with disciplinary exigencies they faced during this period, one should consult his editorial article called ‘‘The Path to Human Studies’’ (2002). 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 425 When engaging with each other on the particular front, this practical concern is directly translated into the pretext that they should only treat each other in a positive and affirmative manner. This is highlighted by the overtly positive tones of these texts, the manner in which contentious and vociferous debates around concepts and methods are curtly synthesized, and the way they indiscriminately promote contradictory accounts of phenomenological sociology. I only found one telling exception to this rule (Wagner 1976). Embedded within a largely optimistic account of phenomenological sociology, Helmut Wagner drops his hospitable tone for a moment in order to scold some of the phenomenological sociologists that have acted out of line. He advises these dissidents against ‘‘exaggerat[ing] the differences between the efforts of others and their own’’ because such divisive acts produce a ‘‘confusing…proliferations of labels’’ (p. 19). This is a telling sentence, which cannot be simply written off as if it was a slip that occurred in an ad lib fashion at a conference because it was published in a refereed journal article. It shows that he was seriously concerned with how the sociological establishment would react to the divisiveness amongst the phenomenological sociologists. It also reads like a communiqué (it was published in a journal that specialized in phenomenological sociology) that is intended to discipline a group of dissidents who have been publicly engaging in unauthorized acts, and to serve notice to others that they should refrain from doing likewise in the future. The underlying message is that their common project will be more effective if they present themselves as a united front across the general front. It is also contentious because it implies that all phenomenological sociologists should employ this approach, which is a strong assertion given that there is so much disagreement amongst them. In the following sections I will highlight how others who disagreed with his authoritative voice reacted, but at this point we should note that this surprising outburst expresses a general sentiment that these texts tend to share: the restrained approach is the most practical approach. That is, the dividends will be more profitable once the sociological establishment has recognized and legitimated them. At the panel on phenomenological sociology, Lawrence Wieder provides another example of how the emphasis on strategy in this approach results in reserved ambitions. He claims that the panelists should not be addressing when phenomenology is sociological, but how ‘‘phenomenology is sociologically usable’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 2). Psathas (1973) makes a similar argument when he states that phenomenological sociologists should limit themselves to mere ‘‘justificatory arguments, programmatic statements and exhortations to the reader, and explanations of why it is important that this approach be used’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 17). Both proclamations highlight how these texts emphasize the practicality of addressing the sociological establishment at the expense of being theoretically adept. These texts also court the sociological establishment’s recognition by explicitly disassociating themselves from philosophy. Psathas (1973) is clear on this account when he states, ‘‘philosophical analysis is different from a sociological scientific one’’ (p. 11). This signifies, according to Wieder (Hinkle et al. 1977), that phenomenological sociology is not a philosophical project, or even a philosophical strain in sociology. Psathas goes even further when he states that one should not 123 426 G. Bird question disciplinary boundaries outside of the ‘‘the doing of particular studies’’ because it will ‘‘distract us from the work of our discipline which is a disciplined inquiry’’ (1977, p. 17). Thus far, I have only outlined the disproportionate presence of the strategic elements in these texts, so I will now turn to how this affects the way. To begin with, they often emphasize that phenomenological sociology is only in its formative stage. This means that the first ‘‘necessary step’’ should be focused on trying to fit the phenomenological into the paradigm of normal science, to reformulate questions or findings, to show that the data are the same, and to reinterpret or rephrase the resulting accounts to show that the translation renders the new results consistent with what is already known or has been done all along. (Psathas 1973, p. 17) Sociology is featured prominently in this recipe. It determines what phenomenology should look like. This is evident in his use of ‘‘consistent,’’ ‘‘fit,’’ ‘‘reformulated,’’ ‘‘reinterpreted,’’ ‘‘rephrased,’’ or ‘‘translated.’’ Critics of this approach generally see this as a naı̈ve attempt to assimilate phenomenology into sociology. We must note, however, that the excessive use of the prefix ‘‘re’’ in the quotation shows that the assimilative approach is not about simply referring to two identical realms. Instead, we find a ‘‘comparative posture’’ (Psathas 1973, p. 17, italics added). These postures range from appeals to similarities to less nuanced statements that reduce phenomenological philosophy to sociology. They intend to leave the general sociologist with the impression that phenomenological philosophy can be translated into sociology. We find this in multiple comparative acts that relate phenomenological sociology to pre-established branches of sociology. For example, Psathas claims that the symbolic interactionists are ‘‘parallel to and compatible with the phenomenological’’ (1973, p. 5) or even ‘‘phenomenological in spirit’’ (p. 6). Wagner asserts that their work includes both ‘‘super-imposition’’ and ‘‘equivocal’’ expositions (1969, p. 79). In another text, he argues that Husserl’s approach is ‘‘akin to the social social-psychological tradition anchored in the work of Charles H. Cooley and of George H. Mead’’ (1973, p. 84). Wieder declares that they should ‘‘look for the portions of the writings [in phenomenological philosophy] which appear to be sociological’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 2). He also contends that there is a vast ‘‘overlap’’ between these domains (p. 3). Finally, Tiryakian takes an extreme position by arguing ‘‘a meaningful methodological convergence exists in the works of Max Weber, Georg Simmel, Émile Durkheim, William I. Thomas, Pritirim Sorokin and Talcott Parsons’’ (1965, p. 678). This text also alleges that there is an ‘‘affinity’’ or ‘‘equivalency’’ between the two domains (p. 682), which is backed up by statements such as ‘‘Durkheim’s sociological analysis is really phenomenological’’ (p. 680) or phrases like ‘‘Parson’s phenomenological approach’’ (p. 682). Finally, we also find the comparative posture operating in more general statements where whole fields of sociology are related to phenomenological philosophy, such as such as interpretive sociology (Tiryakian 1965; Wagner 1969, 1973 and 1975; Wieder in Hinkle et al. 1977), micro-sociology (Tiryakian 1965 and in Hinkle et al. 1977; Wagner 1975), and subjective sociology (Wagner 1975). 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 427 My intentions here are not to address the adequacy of this approach but to contextualize it within the broader set of institutional exigencies that grounded and shaped this debate. I have shown how the practical concerns were heavily weighed down by the disciplinarian attitude and this resulted in downgrading the theoretical concerns. Critics of this approach tended to overlook these concerns and the extent to which this approach was strategic. It must be noted though, that my focus was on specific statements that highlighted these concerns, and in the heat of the debate, it was very easy to overlook what I have outlined here. In the end, when characterizing these texts we have recall that ‘‘to assimilate’’ means to make similar, not to be similar. Assimilation is not a direct incursion, but takes place through a two-fold process where something is compared, and then it is assimilated. Today, if we choose to use this approach to bridge phenomenological philosophy with sociology we must be cognizant of the meaning of assimilation. It is, if you will spare me the generalization, still a popular style of introducing new topics to sociology. In our classrooms, we routinely use comparative tables as a pedagogical tool to teach students. The Adaptive Approach7 I cannot overemphasize how formative a role the tandem of Harold Garfinkel and John O’Neill play in shaping the contours of this debate around the problem of disciplinarian boundaries. They orient the entire debate around themselves by raucously criticizing others, they engage in more cross-textual discussion, and, in general, they divide and associate the other texts while disassociating themselves from all of them in a neither-nor fashion. On their one side, we find all the texts that they deem to be too sociological, in the sense that these texts were too caught up in the disciplinarian attitude, i.e. the texts employing the assimilative and adjustment approaches. On their other side, we find all the texts that they deem to be not sociological enough, in the sense that these texts were too concerned with theoretical issues, i.e. the texts employing the assimilative or the adjustment approaches. These gestures place them right in the center, which they deem to be neither too sociological, nor too philosophical. They also tend to straddle the line between the way and the strategy, the particular front and the general front, as well as the theoretical aspects and the practical aspects.8 Finally, they do all of this through a two-fold approach, which attacks the other texts for being too disciplinarian, while simultaneously putting forward a method that they deem to be grounded by practicality. In short, their method stems from their critique. In the following, I will begin by outlining their critique; then I will move onto outline their approach. The best example of the way their critique is strategically tied to their own approach can be found in the statements they made at the panel (Hinkle et al. 1977). Garfinkel goes to great lengths to distance himself from what he calls a 7 Garfinkel (1967) and Hinkle et al. (1977); O’Neill (1972, 1980, 1985), and Hinkle et al. (1977). 8 For these reasons I have placed the adaptive approach before the second strategic approach, which can only be understood after this discussion. 123 428 G. Bird ‘‘pedagogical interest,’’ which tends to be primarily oriented by disciplinary issues (p. 10). He points to two prominent features that are important for our purposes. First, it is ‘‘directed to formulating some body of professional work’’ (p. 10). Second, it is concerned with ‘‘academic brokering,’’ which we find when a text employs a ‘‘paraphrasing formula’’ (pp. 10–11). This leads to an ‘‘insidious presence of interdisciplinary shop talk’’ which, he insinuates, brings us to the problem of recognition because even the inter-disciplinarian ‘‘must still find that professional community that will permit you to work out the suggestions as the work’s identifying detail that it could consist of’’ (p. 8). He notes that this is evident in the increasing tendency to select a scholarly topic according to departmental ‘‘priority matters’’ (p. 13). Both features point us to the way that these texts manifest the disciplinarian attitude. The moral here is that these interceding issues distract us from focusing on what should be our primary concern, which for him is clearly the content of one’s research. John O’Neill (Hinkle et al. 1977) points us to the disciplinarian attitude by employing a metaphor. He claims that the question of the panel—‘‘When is phenomenology sociological?’’—‘‘raises…the problem of promiscuity, namely that sociologists are terribly concerned with what could happen to the family and its members if phenomenology is making it with that old whore sociology’’ (p. 7).9 This is taken up in two fashions: either sociologists become concerned with their ‘‘young son phenomenology’’ or seek to be more proactive by pointing to a ‘‘procreative’’ element with ‘‘phenomenology and sociology… screwing one another’’ (p. 7). The latter approach tends to rest on the accomplishment of the ‘‘freshness of their union [which] is not being pursued in one of these conventional hotels’’ (p. 7). In my reading, this metaphor accounts for both the assimilative and integrative approaches. With the former, the practitioner employs a distancing tactic by claiming that the child, not the sociologist, is doing all the work. This signifies that there is an indirect relationship—i.e. the child—between sociologists and phenomenology. With the other approach, we find that sociology—not a ‘‘sociologist’’—and phenomenology are directly integrated in such a manner that something new is produced.10 In a negative tone, however, O’Neill labels both approaches as ‘‘scholarly ways,’’ meaning that they are ‘‘concerned with the studyable practices for worrying about the sources of intellectual creativity’’ (p. 7). He then characterizes Garfinkel and his approach as ‘‘workmanlike.’’ He reasons that that they are not concerned with ‘‘invoking normative orders of fields and 9 It seems that O’Neill is using ‘‘whore’’ in a third person manner. ‘‘Whore’’ characterizes the natural or disciplinarian attitude that other phenomenological sociologists are reproducing in their texts. In this sense, the use of ‘‘whore’’ is an apt representation for the way in which something becomes thoroughly objectified, even abjected. The image of the ‘‘whore’’ in our culture, as opposed to a ‘‘sex trade worker,’’ is of an object that has been penetrated by so many others that she/he has lost all sense of a self-identity. That is, one’s identity has been ascribed to them from others and it is reproduced in the ‘‘natural attitude.’’ This, I presume, represents the way in which many phenomenological sociologists have take up the problem by either defending sociology from being treated this way, or at the least catering to this fear (i.e. first two approaches), and those who merely say ‘‘let’s keep doing it’’ (i.e. last two approaches). So ‘‘whore’’ is being used in a critical sense: sociology is being treated like certain abased gendered trades. 10 This is a rare instance where a text that is not advocating for the fourth strategic approach has not concluded that such an approach is actually un-sociological, i.e. abdicative. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 429 boundaries and disciplines as though [they] were more beholden to property in ideas rather than to the life of thought’’ (p. 8). O’Neill also claims that some phenomenological sociologists are ‘‘too choosey’’ (i.e. abdicative approach), whereas others are ‘‘not so choosey’’ (i.e. integrative approach), when they search for a ‘‘recipe for mixing phenomenology and sociology’’ (p. 22). Such dichotomies lead the proponents of these two approaches to get into quarrels about being too open or too closed (pp. 22–23). He even questions the discourse on phenomenological sociology’s developmental process because it reads as an ‘‘occasion for telling a story of neglect, struggle and recognition’’ (p. 23). Garfinkel and O’Neill’s critique of the way that ‘‘pedagogy’’ is framed in this debate also contains an implicit critique of scholarly manners. This is evident in the ways that they employ an ‘‘in house’’ tone to challenge the standard rules of engagement. In the quotes above, they make wild, even workmanlike, outbursts that are clearly anti-institutional. This additional layer to their approach makes their critique of ‘‘scholarly ways’’ more comprehensive than those who merely criticized the disciplinarian attitude on a theoretical level. This aspect also makes it appear as if Wagner’s (1976) censoring remarks were directly aimed at them. Could it be that their approach breaches and offends the calls for civility that were made by the assimilative camp? Nevertheless, their anti-institutional methodology helps to clear away the clutter that confused this debate. It also helps them to make an argument that it is more important to focus on the content of one’s investigations. Now that I have outlined some of the anti-disciplinarian elements that have helped to shape this approach, we can turn to how it comes together as an adaptive strategic approach. O’Neill, for example, advocates for ‘‘strategic misuse’’ (1985, p. 749) or ‘‘misreadings’’ (1980, p. 10) of concepts found in different strands of sociology and phenomenology. Phenomenological sociologists should navigate between sociology and phenomenology; however, they should only do so by remaining disinterested in ‘‘staying true’’ to either discipline (1985, p. 749). The only option is to be committed to the methodological principle, which, according to Garfinkel (Hinkle et al. 1977), is ‘‘a concern for material and particular contents of the worldly looks of organizational objects’’ or ‘‘the world’s ways’’ (p. 16). In an earlier text, Garfinkel (1967) goes so far as to say that there is no ‘‘single method of understanding’’ (p. 31), i.e. a phenomenological sociologist should operate from the notion that meaning will only be found if it is grounded within one’s own practices (p. 8). This results in a second take on practicality in this literature, which I will call ‘‘methodological practicality.’’ Despite their efforts, we must conclude that this approach still has a strategic strain. It is not directed at the sociological establishment, at least in a total sense, but towards particular methodologists who are interested in this version of phenomenological sociology. This does not mean that Garfinkel and O’Neill are immune to the disciplinarian attitude, which would be an absurd reading given its deep roots and extensive reach which spans well beyond this debate. Even Garfinkel and O’Neill, despite their primarily negative orientation to this attitude, have telling moments where they affirm it. These are most explicit in their texts that are oriented towards the general front, i.e. the general sociologist. There are two particular 123 430 G. Bird instances in O’Neill. First, in a text that was published in a journal catering to the general sociological audience, he claims that phenomenological sociology is a ‘‘recognizable way of doing sociology’’ by many ‘‘practitioners who share certain institutional affiliations,’’ which explains why they ‘‘have institutionalized their work so as to be discoverable, in turn, by researchers in the sociology of science’’ (1985, p. 749). Second, in different text he argues that the breadth of publications in phenomenological sociology ‘‘testif[ies] to the institutionalization…of sociological work whose practice courts legitimation’’ (1980, p. 8). Garfinkel (1967) also weighs in on this in his introductory essay to ethnomethodolgy when he affirms that his method is suitable for ‘‘professional sociological analysis’’ (p. 34). Neither Garfinkel nor O’Neill purport to be anti-sociological; they are merely critical of the practices that are fostered when the need to address the institutional exigencies clouds our research. Out of all the various approaches that are being considered in this paper, the adaptive version appears to be most cognizant of the way that disciplinarian tensions have interceded into this debate. Garfinkel and O’Neill employ a methodological practicality to deal strategically with these tensions. In fact, their hands-on, workmanlike sentimentality is in line with a longstanding principle in sociological research: we cannot distinguish the doing of sociology from the thinking about sociology because we can only think about sociology while doing sociology. This methodological reflexivity is now a standard principle in most sociological practices. Today we also recognize that such practices are still formative, in the sense that they shape our investigations, even if they are constantly shifting and less rigid. In short, Garfinkel and O’Neill are strongly tied to sociology; after all being ‘‘wild’’ is a sociological method (O’Neill 1975). The Adjustment Approach11 This approach is a unique mixture of both the assimilative and adaptive approaches. Like the texts employing the assimilative approach, these texts are also concerned with the sociological establishment’s recognition, albeit in a qualified sense. Instead of merely pointing out the positives and the similarities between sociology and phenomenological insights, this approach attempts to indulge the sociological establishment so that it will be amenable to opening itself up to the insights of phenomenology, but it does so while being open about the consequences of such an action. These texts acknowledge that if phenomenology is accepted as a legitimate practice in sociology, sociology will have to be willing to adjust its basic principles. This is a more difficult task because it contains an implicit criticism of the sociological establishments taken-for-granted practices, which means that they must also go to greater lengths to coddle the sociological establishment than the other approaches. In some of these texts, the tension is manifested through anxious disclaimers that seem to be appeasements to the sociological establishment. The most explicit case is found when Berger and Luckmann (1966) excessively appeal to the disciplinarian 11 Armstrong (1979b); Berger and Luckmann (1966); Holzner (1974); Lengermann et al. (1978); Tiryakian (Hinkle et al. 1977); Wagner (Hinkle et al. 1977); and Wolff (1978). 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 431 attitude. For example, at the beginning of this text they repeatedly point to a distinct division of labor between the ‘‘disciplines’’ of ‘‘philosophy’’ and ‘‘sociology’’ (pp. 2–3). The ‘‘sociology of knowledge’’ is said to be ‘‘part of the empirical discipline of sociology,’’ an ‘‘empirical discipline in its concrete problems’’ (p. 14). Philosophy, on the other hand, is concerned with ‘‘the foundations of the empirical discipline’’ (p. 14). Like those texts that were facing the curmudgeonly adjudicative panel, Berger and Luckmann also nervously reaffirm that they are not seeking to ‘‘engage in philosophy’’ because they are committed to the ‘‘sociological enterprise’’ (p. 19) or the ‘‘discipline of sociology’’ (pp. 13–14). After all, they hope that the ‘‘transposition’’ of German or European philosophy into American sociology (pp. 8–11) will be recognized and subsequently legitimated when their brand of sociology is moved ‘‘from the periphery to the very center of sociological theory’’ (p. 186). In a different context, Burkart Holzner (1974) makes a similar gesture when he criticizes James Heap and Philip Roth (1973). While addressing the general recognition front, Holzner makes a plea for ‘‘receiving phenomenological contributions into basic sociology, and against separate ‘sociologies’’’ (p. 288). The implication in both texts is that phenomenological sociology is not antagonistic to the sociological establishment. At a very basic level, these texts address the practical concerns in a similar instrumentalist manner that we already found with those that employ the assimilative approach. Both are heavily bent on fostering the sociological establishment’s recognition of phenomenological sociology. They differ, however, when we recognize that the strategy of the former camp was almost deceptive, whereas in this camp we find an implicit argument that it is more practical to be open and sincere about the ends that they seek. This is more congruent with the difficult task that these texts have set for themselves because it would be counterproductive for them to hide intentions since they are asking sociologists to be reflexive. This is evident in their readiness to acknowledge how their approach is not necessarily concerned with the way that the interpretation is conducted. For instance, Berger and Luckmann (1966) openly state that they sometimes do ‘‘violence to certain thinkers by integrating [or adjusting] their thought into a theoretical formation that some of them might have found quite alien’’ (p. 17). Another example comes from Holzner (1974) when he criticizes Heap and Roth (1973) for being too strict about interpretive accuracy. He claims, ‘‘it might be more fruitful to misunderstand Husserl, than to understand and ‘apply’ his work correctly’’ because ‘‘creative misunderstandings, fruitful in their consequences, have sometimes occurred when products of one intellectual tradition entered into another’’ (p. 286). By taking a sincere approach, the general sociologist is given the space that is required to recognize that there are differences between phenomenology and sociology. More importantly, this strategy enables them to convey their desire to stay true to the sociological establishment, which takes precedence over their relation to phenomenological philosophy. In other words, for these texts the strategy supersedes the way. Their delicate dance becomes more complicated when they attempt to highlight aspects of phenomenological philosophy that may be useful for sociologists. Two particular techniques are used on this account. First, we find instrumental appeals to 123 432 G. Bird the utility of phenomenological techniques. Tiryakian, for example, emphatically claims that the ‘‘bracketing attitude’’ is a ‘‘powerful experience’’ which can ‘‘liberate’’ sociologists from their ‘‘presuppositions’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 26). In a different text, which considers how phenomenology can aid feminist sociology, we find statements referring to its many ‘‘insights’’ (Lengermann et al. 1978, p. 376); it ‘‘gives students a new slant’’ (p. 382), and it allows its practitioners to ‘‘develop new answers to the question of stability and change in woman’s situation’’ (p. 382). Second, we also find instances where key phenomenological figures who are recognized by the sociological establishment are referred to in order to give further credence to phenomenology. Alfred Schutz tends to be cited in most of these passages. For instance, Wagner (Hinkle et al. 1977) claims that Schutz ‘‘involved himself with phenomenology not for its own sake but because it seemed to offer a basis for the establishment of a propaedeutics of sociology, that is, an area in and from which the preconditions and suppositions of a field can be properly investigated’’ (p. 21). Wagner is also cautious against being too brazen so he follows this statement with the disclaimer that Schutz ‘‘was a phenomenologist to the degree to which he had to be for the purpose of setting the house of the sociology of understanding in order’’ (p. 21). The implication is that since the establishment has already accepted Schutz, sociology should give the same latitude to the Anglo-American wave. Wolff (1978) summarizes these general positions quite aptly in his slightly exaggerated claim that amongst the phenomenological sociologists there is one ‘‘established’’ position: ‘‘phenomenology has enriched and can further enrich the sociologist’s sensitivity, in both theory and research, to potential relevances’’ (p. 527). He also claims that what is being called for is not a ‘‘meta-sociology,’’ in the sense that ‘‘phenomenology is laying the foundation of sociology’’ (p. 15), which is a position he equates with that of Natanson (1973). Natanson’s approach, he maintains, is too philosophical. Wolff, on the other hand, is more conscious of his audience so he takes the same premise but presents it in a less provocative manner. He claims that phenomenology ‘‘consists in the entailment of a changed structure of sociology itself, of a new consciousness, even a new ‘being in the world’’’(p. 525).12 We could say that he sells phenomenology rather than pushes it. Overall, the adjustment approach is the most flexible and accommodating out of all the strategic approaches. It also contains the most points of convergence, which explains why its presence in this debate caused a great deal of confusion.13 For these reasons, I have chosen to call it an ‘‘adjustment’’ approach, i.e. it is simultaneously assimilative and adaptive. 12 Other proponents of this approach are less careful, such as Wagner, who at one point claims to be working on a ‘‘metasociology’’ (in Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 21). 13 This approach was also hard to distinguish from the other approaches because several figures employed it in some texts (Tiryakian and Wagner in Hinkle et al. 1977; Armstrong 1979b; Berger and Luckmann 1966), while in other texts they employ either the assimilative approach (Tiryakian 1965, 1966; Wagner 1969, 1973, 1975, 1976) or the integrative approach (Armstrong 1976, 1979a; Berger 1966). This is another example where the intersection of the strategy and the way caused a great amount of confusion in this debate as the interlocutors shifted positions from text to text. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 433 The Integrative and Abdicative Approaches14 On a superficial level, these texts appear to be antithetical to those that employ the assimilative approach. First, they are critical of the way that the assimilative camp sets about relating phenomenological philosophy and sociology. For instance, Heap and Roth (1973) claim that many texts are ‘‘flawed and misleading’’ (p. 359). At their ‘‘best,’’ they merely display ‘‘a metaphorical understanding of phenomenology as a philosophy and as a set of methods’’ (p. 354). Srubar (1984) carries this critique further by stating that the ‘‘advocates of ‘phenomenological’ sociology…declare, in an almost imperialistic manner, everyone who made a name for himself since the turn of the century to be a forerunner of ‘phenomenological’ sociology’’ (p. 163). Berger (1966) criticizes Tiryakian (1965) for simplistically attempting to ‘‘show the implicit presence of ‘phenomenological’ or ‘existential-phenomenological’ aspects…in sociological figures not commonly associated with either phenomenology or existentialism’’ (p. 259). Finally, Armstrong (1979a) contextualizes these problems when he reminds the rest of the group that the tendency to synthesize results from the heightened pressure from ‘‘phenomenologophobes’’ who insist that ‘‘phenomenological statements must conform to previous usages in sociology’’ (p. 69). Second, in varying degrees these texts purport to be against the ‘‘disciplinedependency’’ that produces a ‘‘hostility’’ or ‘‘profound suspicion of theories which move outside the circle of scientific analysis in order to provide its rationale’’ (Natanson 1973, p. 31). James Heap (Hinkle et al. 1977) even maintains that the central question at the panel ‘‘suggests some kind of discipline concern. It seems to me to be motivated by a concern that we can only play with certain kinds of things that are in our own yard’’ (p. 6). He asserts that there may be a ‘‘motivation behind this question’’ which ‘‘buys into the notion that there is a discipline that has certain boundaries, it has this yard, it has this space, it has limits’’ (p. 6). These two critiques take us to primary issues that the texts employing the integrative approach raise. The desire to be recognized by the sociological establishment is preventing the phenomenological sociologists from focusing on what should be their primary concern: the way. Their solution is to bracket off the recognition front, including the strategic and practical concerns it harbors, which is supposed to allow them to focus on the identity front, including the way and its theoretical exigencies. This is not without contradictions, however, because their commonsensical approach is also reliant on a variation of the practical. In this case, this is what I will call a ‘‘theoretical practicality.’’ The loudest and most controversial example comes from Heap and Roth’s call for a ‘‘systematic and disciplined inquiry into Husserlian phenomenologies and their derivatives (1973, p. 365). Surprisingly, they only provide us with a programmatic 14 There are only three texts that explicitly advocate for the fourth strategic approach: Heap (1974); Heap in Hinkle et al. (1977); and Heap and Roth (1973). The five other texts that are included in this section only peripherally add to this interpretation. Srubar (1984) is a retrospective take on this debate. Berger (1966) and Armstrong (1976) are both short commentaries on other texts. Armstrong (1979a) is only indirectly related to the other texts because it was written as a response to the critics of phenomenological sociology. Finally, Natanson (1973), for reasons which will be outlined further below, falls outside of this approach. 123 434 G. Bird account of this approach, which contains little substantial evidence as to how it should be employed, and they tend to criticize other texts through standards that they have not themselves managed to fulfill (pp. 355–359). We must therefore turn to Natanson (1973), who provides us with the most explicit account of such an undertaking. In a manner that is antithetical to Garfinkel and O’Neill, Natanson claims that ‘‘phenomenology is concerned with the essential form of what it investigates rather than with contingent content…the architecture of phenomena, not the steel and cement of buildings’’ (p. 4). He legitimates this assertion by noting that both philosophers and social scientists have ‘‘tended to take for granted the meaning of application and in doing so have kept themselves at distance from one of the most fundamental problems of knowledge’’ (p. 35). For the other phenomenological sociologists this approach places too much emphasis on the way. Some even characterize it as a move beyond sociology because it does not appear to be strategically oriented towards the sociological establishment. For instance, at the panel Wagner (Hinkle et al. 1977) asserts that Heap is not doing ‘‘sociology,’’ but ‘‘social’’ phenomenology (p. 30). Holzner (1974) raises a similar critique of Heap and Roth (1973), only this time it is based on their allegiance to Continental as opposed to Anglo-American philosophy. Both critiques, along with others I have already cited, imply that these texts are employing an abdicative strategy. If we evaluate these texts from a different angle, however, we can come up with an alternative reading by starting from Wagner’s dictum that we should only consider texts from their own ‘‘sociological starting points’’ (1976, p. 20). From this point, it is apparent that the texts that advocate for the integrative approach are less committed to the sociological establishment, or at least their characterizations of it, because they are steadfastly committed to presenting sociology as an open project. Heap and Roth, for instance, explicitly state that there are ‘‘many sociologies’’ (1973, p. 365). Armstrong characterizes sociology as a ‘‘science without bounds’’ that is ‘‘constantly being formed’’ (1979, p. 71). Heap maintains that its ‘‘boundaries are changing’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 6). In a different text he states that ‘‘sociology has no ‘paradigm’ and no ‘common sociological body of knowledge,’’’ so ‘‘in a defacto sense, no one need call for separate sociologies; for they are abound’’ (1974, p. 289). This is not a satisfactory account because in some instances these texts are critical of the disciplinarian attitude, while in other instances they tend to reaffirm it. As we have already seen, they tend to be critical of the sociological variation of the disciplinarian attitude, which for them remains tied to the sentiment that sociology is merely an empirical discipline. At the same time, they tend to reaffirm this attitude when they discuss ‘‘philosophy,’’ which they characterize as a discipline with transcendental concerns. In a text that its often cited by this group of phenomenological sociologists, Maurice Merleau-Ponty (1996) summarizes this position by pointing to a ‘‘certain common sense’’ that ‘‘mythically’’ works to ‘‘segregate’’ philosophy and sociology (p. 17). As such, each is reduced ‘‘to believing in their pure types,’’ which means that sociology should be oriented by empirical questions and philosophy should be concerned with transcendental problems (p. 18). In short, sociology and philosophy are reduced to relatively autonomous, yet stratified, realms of inquiry. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 435 Not all the texts we have considered in this subsection have adequately dealt with this problem. In the extreme instances, such as Natanson (1973), we find an adherence to a rigid division of academic labor. He argues ‘‘phenomenology [i.e. philosophy] and empirical sciences are coworkers in a many-leveled realm, asking different questions but not always heeding each other’s voices’’ (p. 34).15 In a fashion that reverses the strategy of the assimilative proponents, he boldly claims that phenomenological philosophy can expose sociologists to their ‘‘own philosophical roots’’ (p. 34).16 This implies that philosophy works at a deeper level of inquiry than sociology. Natanson relies on Merleau-Ponty (1996) to make this argument. Like Natanson, Merleau-Ponty does manage to discipline sociologists when he states, ‘‘we must not only say that philosophy is compatible with sociology,’’ it is also ‘‘necessary as a constant reminder of its tasks’’ (p. 29). Philosophy allows us to return to the ‘‘living source of [our] knowledge’’ (p. 29). Although there is a difference in the degree that each adheres to the disciplinarian attitude, both theorists still manage to reaffirm the notion that philosophy and sociology are the proper heirs to different levels of analysis and spheres of inquiry. This is yet another example where the way is severed away from the circumstances. We saw this above with Natanson’s reference to the difference between architecture and materials (1973, p. 4). Is his association based upon a classed division, i.e. implying that philosophers are architects and sociologists are manual laborers? Could O’Neill’s characterization of Garfinkel and his ‘‘workmanlike’’ method (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 8) be an attempt to address the classification of different approaches?17 With the phenomenological ‘‘sociologists,’’ on the other hand, we find a slightly toned down approach. Heap (1974) does claim that he is not interested in presenting the ‘‘empirical utility’’ to the sociological establishment, i.e. reaffirming the disciplinarian attitude on the sociological side (p. 290). He does so by framing his position strategically in terms of rational utility when he asserts that mixing phenomenological philosophy with sociology can be ‘‘foundational’’ (p. 290). This is similar to Natanson’s statement that ‘‘Philosophy provides a fundamental perspective’’ or a ‘‘conceptual matrix in terms of which [social scientists] can order their principles and methodology’’ (1973, p. 31). Natanson goes so far as to claim that ‘‘philosophical currency’’ will result in ‘‘more currency’’ for social scientists 15 As an interesting aside, every text that I have considered in this paper reaffirms the disciplinarian boundaries when they speak of ‘‘phenomenology.’’ I have not found a single instance where phenomenology, as a noun, is referred to in a cross-disciplinary sense. As a noun, phenomenology refers to a branch of philosophy. The implication is that phenomenology is only sociological when it becomes an adjective, i.e. ‘‘phenomenological sociology.’’ 16 This is an appropriate moment to recall that Natanson is the only ‘‘professional’’ philosopher that I have included in this survey, which could partially account for such a statement. 17 We have to question such hard distinctions, within our discipline and in our inter-disciplinary interactions, since the outcome would be that philosophers are the designers and we merely apply their products. Within all the texts I read, including those that have not been cited in this bibliography, it was obvious that the phenomenological sociologists reciprocally faced opposition from the professional philosophers who were equally defensive against intrusions into their terrain. This is still a formidable obstacle in today’s context, which reinforces the disciplinarian attitude. Unfortunately, we cannot deal with it in a substantial fashion in this paper. 123 436 G. Bird (p. 29). If Natanson was a ‘‘professional’’ sociologist, we could say that he has slipped into the abdicative approach, but he is a philosopher who advocates for a ‘‘phenomenology of the social sciences’’ (p. 32). Wagner labeled such statements as ‘‘social,’’ rather than ‘‘sociological,’’ ‘‘phenomenology’’ (Hinkle et al. 1977, p. 30). It is not fair, however, to assert that the sociologists in this group are asking a philosopher to point out the foundations of sociology for them; instead, they are looking for additional theoretical and methodological perspective that they will, in turn, use, change, and build upon in their own work. The distinction I am making here resonates with Martin Heidegger’s (1962) distinction between ‘‘leaping in’’ for others and ‘‘leaping ahead’’ of others (pp. 158– 159). The philosopher in this discussion tends use the leaping in approach, whereas the sociologists attempt to position themselves as proponents of the leaping ahead approach. They seem to be claiming that they are merely engaging with phenomenological philosophy in order to gain some additional perspective on their own sociological practices. In turn, their texts only become controversial when other sociologists do not interpret them as leaping ahead but as leaping in for the rest of sociology. Such is the circular rhetoric that engulfs this debate and, we should add, Heidegger’s dichotomy. With Heap (1974), Hinkle et al. (1977), Heap and Roth (1973), and to a lesser extent the texts written by other sociologists that I have included in this section, we find an integrative approach. These texts are less tied to the sociological establishment, at least in the stereotyped disciplinarian sense that they attribute to it, because they are more concerned with changing this attitude. At the same time, they run up against at least two contradictions. First, the way they use disciplinary stereotypes is productive in the sense that they reinforce them. Being counterproductive is productive, which might explain why these texts exhibited the least amount of caution against offending the sociological establishment. Second, they still appeal to the recognition front by employing a set of strategies that are coded in the language of practicality. In this sense, there is a commonality between these texts and those employing the adjustment approach. The latter, however, are more cautious about their approach. In addition, they are more willing to jeopardize the way in order to be strategically oriented towards the sociological establishment. With the texts advocating for the integrative approach, on the other hand, this concern seems to be cast aside for the way. This leads us to the primary division between these two approaches: the former are practical about theory, the latter are theoretically practical. Finally, these texts do move between reaffirming the division of labor between philosophy and sociology on the one hand and attempting to integrate them together into phenomenological sociology on the other hand. This is a contentious, possibly brazen, and definitely confusing, aspect in these texts. Heap and Roth (1973) make the clearest statement to this end when they claim that ‘‘[a]ny attempt to graft phenomenological concepts onto a sociology which has not been fundamentally reconstituted can only lead to a distortion, if not perversion, of both phenomenology and sociology’’ (p. 359). In the end, I have labeled them as ‘‘integrative’’ because they assert that phenomenological sociology is a mixture of both phenomenological philosophy and sociology. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 437 Conclusion This paper focused on several underlying disciplinary elements that contributed to the confusion and therefore exaggerated readings of the positions of other in this debate. At points, this resulted in even greater exclusionary processes. Along the particular front, these exaggerations did help to create loose alliances around the five strategic approaches; however, few texts positively affirmed the position of other texts, and little was stated in terms of commonality. Instead, alliances appeared to be shaped by negatively reciprocal practices, such as common critiques of texts that advocated for a different approach. That is, the negative stance against the non-allied texts tended to be reciprocated amongst the texts that were allied in each approach. On the other hand, we must also recognize that these exclusionary processes were never complete. If we consider all these texts together, it is apparent that each was concerned with phenomenological sociology. Along the general front, this led to an indirect form of positive reciprocity, even if this was rarely acknowledged. What are the lessons that those of us who identify with the second wave can learn from this survey? The primary lesson is that we cannot make a clear break from the disciplinarian tensions. It is apparent that the grounds that these debates took place on were anything but receptive to them. From this perspective it is obvious that the ways they engaged the sociological establishment reflected the formidable obstacles they were confronting. After all, they were making the preposterous leap to bring a foreign, even contrary, discipline into the institutions that had been reared on a heavy dosage of Anglo-American analytic and/or practical philosophy. Previous generations of scholars had already made several bountiful trips abroad, which led many scholars to claim that they had finally reached the point where they could remain sufficiently occupied with their homespun theories. Any future attempts to travel abroad in search of even newer theories and methods would certainly be received as an insult to their years of hard labor. For example, in sociology structural-functionalism and symbolic interactionism had just been institutionalized. This paper sought to highlight how the first wave of phenomenological sociology become so caught up with bridging philosophy and sociology that their discussion became entangled in a web of competing interests, strategies, circumstances and theoretical outlooks. Ferguson (2006) does recognize this; however, his gloss does not provide us with enough context to make a fair appraisal about why we should ignore their work. The conditions in today’s sociology departments are obviously different, but we do have our own set of dilemmas and entrenched practices that we must face. There are overlaps, or at least broken lineages, which can be traced back to the period I have covered in this paper. One such remnant is the disciplinarian attitude, which persists, albeit in a different fashion. Today we are still caught up in an array of strategic approaches when we seek to do phenomenological research in sociology. Even Ferguson’s ‘‘extra-disciplinary’’ approach ends up reaffirming these tensions in a variety of fashions (2006, p. 8). If this paper had been concerned with his text, the conclusion could very well have been that at different points he employs each of the first four strategic approaches that we have encountered in this study. 123 438 G. Bird This paper is a practical exercise. It is concerned with the social relationships that were conveyed across these texts, which were also circumscribed within institutionally sanctioned rules of engagement. In a sense, we have dealt with what Pierre Bourdieu (2000) calls the ‘‘skhole`,’’ i.e. the leisurely ways afforded to academics that help them to disengage from the material world they purport to be studying. My focus, however, has not been about the relationship between the academic and the ‘‘other’’ world, nor have I seriously considered various other exclusionary processes (such as gender or race) that contributed to creating an ‘‘in-group’’ amongst the phenomenological sociologists; instead, I have focused on a specific set of relationships that are embedded within the skhole`, relations which, we might add, play a large part in determining whether an academic is allowed to continue to reap the benefits that the skhole` could offer them. These relationships do have material consequences for the academic, such as attaining a job. Even within this small group, that in itself was exclusionary, the problem of inclusion goes beyond mere theoretical concerns, because it cuts to the heart of our own basic material needs that does connect us with the ‘‘other’’ world. Finally, the underlying message of this paper is that we need to find ways to be more attentive to these institutionalized relationships. We also have to find ways to hold them back from overshadowing our primary interest as phenomenological sociologists, which should be social phenomena. Being ‘‘extra-disciplinary,’’ or even ‘‘inter-disciplinary,’’ will remain empty designations until phenomenological sociologists can find a way to consider, sincerely, how to work through the disciplinarian tensions. There are important insights in the texts that I have covered which will help us along this path. Ferguson (2006) also provides us with some additional insight, but I do wonder if the only real material resolution to this problem is attaining tenure? Tenure does loosen the disciplinarian constraints at least on a material level; however, this status also tends to cultivate the disciplinarian attitude.18 References Armstrong, E. G. (1976). Comment. The British Journal of Sociology, 27(2), 251–254. Armstrong, E. G. (1979a). Phenomenologophobia. Human Studies, 2, 63–75. Armstrong, E. G. (1979b). Black sociology and phenomenological sociology. The Sociological Quarterly, 20, 387–397. Bartky, S. L. (1975). Toward a phenomenology of feminist consciousness. Social Theory and Practice, 3(4), 425–439. Berger, P. (1966). On existential phenomenology (II). American Sociological Review, 31, 259–260. Berger, P., & Luckmann, T. (1966). The social construction of reality. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Bourdieu, P. (2000). Pascalian meditations (R. Nice, Trans.). Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. 18 Many thanks are due in this paper. First, I would like to thank the editorial team at Human Studies— the anonymous referees and Lenore Langsdorf. Second, I am thankful for the time that Colleen Bell, Kevin Hegge, Sarah Hornstein and the Social Theory Reading Group in the Department of Sociology at York have spent editing previous drafts of this paper. Finally, thank you to Brian Singer, John O’Neill, and Philip Walsh, each of whom has faced what Brian, in an informal conversation, has called the ‘‘problem of translation’’ that sociologists face when they have an interest in philosophy. 123 What is Phenomenological Sociology Again? 439 Circourel, A. (1968). The social organization of juvenile justice. New York: John Wiley & Sons. Ferguson, H. (2006). Phenomenological sociology: Experience and insight in modern society. London: Sage Publications. Ferguson, H. (2007). Phenomenological sociology. 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