Community and Society: a Schema Fraught with Consequences

Panajotis Kondylis

The below is from Das Politische und der Mensch, pp. 50–65 (Kondylis 1999).

Differentiation evolutionism inspired more than just the philosophy of history of the 18th and 19th centuries. In it, the historical process of differentiation takes a qualitative turn, and the acceleration or expansion thereof is linked to the transition between the agrarian “pre-modern” and the industrial “modern,” creating a construction or fiction that has influenced the sociological thought of the past century in very different respects and ways. This is the dichotomy between community and society. Its suggestive power arises not least from the possibility of transferring a malleable and memorable ground dichotomy to many areas, where the disarming clarity makes for an alluring interpretation. The opposition between community and society can be summarized thusly: in the economic (agricultural vs. industrial), political (authority vs. consensus), sociocultural (simple vs. complex or differentiated), historical-theoretical (stationary vs. dynamic), psychological-mental (affective vs. rational) and even ethical (self-actualization vs. alienation of the self). 1 These plentiful possibilities for transference and polarization allow linking this or that version of the two definitions to sundry cultural-philosophical and sociopolitical preferences. “Community” lives on today as a source of inspiration for utopian models of social solidarity,2 feeding both “left” and “right” culture critics, addressing the confusing complexity of society that paralyzes human initiative in modern society. Here it is wrongly assumed that more comprehensibility and smaller scope meant more possibilities for the individual to shape society—as if the “primitive” or the Greek had any possibility of shaping or reshaping his own society or even his own life course to the same degree as a member of one of today’s mass democracies. That a particularly strongly felt need for such opportunities to shape one’s society arises at all lies not in nostalgia for a once extant and now lost free space, but rather the fact that the modern belief in progress and modern individualism suggests that things are bound to change constantly and that change ultimately traces back to individual initiative. The differentiation evolutionists put themselves in the “society” camp, in which “community” is taken to be historical, a pre-modern stage of human development that has been irrevocably overcome. The admission that “community” could embody a constitutive and permanent component of all social life would obviously shake the central tenets of evolutionism, for instance the connection between progress in differentiation and the establishment of “cognitive” elements. Finally, there is the quest to take the best of both, for instance to retain a “lifeworld” conceived in communitarian imaginations alongside the highly differentiated system “society.” Behind such precarious combinations the pure types always stand out by contrast.

The juxtaposition of community and society has been tied to both the skeptical and optimistic assessments of the new industrial-differentiated society from the beginning. Tönnies, to be sure, falls under the influence of Maine’s fundamental distinction between status and contract, but among his sources one must also mention Spencer, an evolutionist, who saw the replacement of “militaristic” (homogeneous) by “industrial” (differentiated) to be a positive change in world history. 3 A critic of capitalism like Tönnies would be at odds with such optimism; he initially focused his attention on the events of the cultural collapse before him, regarding the opposition between community and society as a “theorem of the philosophy of culture,” and only later sought to turn it into the conceptual, or more precisely, ideal-typical, foundation of pure (formal) sociology. 4 The tensions between the two approaches and the ambiguities would prove irreconcilable: sometimes the notion of community preceded the notion of society not only historically, but also was rated more highly systematically and socially-ethically, i.e. with anti-capitalist intentions. Here it was a question of two successive historical structures; there, two possibilities of human coexistence that could occur in mixed form. Occasionally, the diagnosis was the ultimate decline of community and then its preservation was proclaimed, from two very different perspectives: as a historical vestige or as an indispensable component of the social in general. Finally, the concept of community at times served as a model for the development of a new solidarity-based anticapitalist future. 5

Tönnies’ doubts are still of interest. They stem from the fact that the formal sociological approach, from the beginning, was bound up in a pair of concepts whose historical and philosophical connotations would impair the goal of a proper formal sociology. The aim was to establish a concept that would encompass the distinctions or classifications from the philosophy of history in the 18th and 19th centuries and thereby sociologically neutralize or even dispatch them; conversely, Tönnies had connected the domain of formal sociology to the tradition of philosophy of history. Notions of structure, which had featured as stages of development in the earlier philosophy of history, were formalized and could continue to form the basis of a periodization of history. But the greatest common denominator was still lacking, a unifying notion that incorporated “community” and “society” simultaneously. As the opposition of the two ideal types dominated the discussion, respective types of social relation and social action were worked out or simply suggested. But it did not broach social relation in general nor social actions in general, to say nothing of anthropological questions (because these also were touched upon only in view of the aforementioned dichotomy, for example in the question of essence and free will). Even when it was realized that fully overhauling philosophy or eschatology of history would require stepping beyond Tönnies’ categories, the conceptual means for such remained more or less stuck in the Tönniesist world of ideas. This can be seen in Weber’s classification of types of action vis-à-vis the problem of rationality; likewise, the way Simmel conceives of “society” and “money” or “function” together—though he thinks of the formal sociological approach as based on function. In any case, the reduction of Tönnies’ social theory to the dichotomy “community vs. society,” facilitated its assimilation into an evolutionist perspective, which, for its part, was principally concerned with certifying growing differentiation in history and the contrast “premodern-modern.” This differentiation evolutionism became integrated in variously inspired social theories (cybernetic, economic, ethical); his theorem was presented as corroboration or as a result of more general principles. But in reality they proceeded in the opposite direction: the theoretical premises were largely conceived and formulated from the standpoint of differentiation and “society,” whereby, as already noted, anthropological constants were attributed to mechanisms of differentiation in the modern or modern particularities were elevated to socio-ontological constants. Thus the dichotomy “community vs. society” was inherited in all orthodox rhetorical rejections of the philosophy of history, and the normative strength of the factual made itself felt in the glad or sulking taking of sides for “society.”

The critics of the historically hypostatized dichotomy between “community” and “society,” (respectively, “pre-modern” and “modern”) bring up fundamental questions of social theory. It would appear to be only obsolete pedantry to pass the guises and consequences of this way of thinking by without guessing at the reasons why increasing dissenters were not able to reverse the trend. Geiger, in early writing, had already characterized Tönnies’ fundamental error in the following way: Tönnies considers community and society as categories of real structures with cultural-philosophical and developmental-historical connotations instead of formal principles accounting for the only type of social arrangement, i.e., the group 6. Gurvitch rejected both the partition of various forms of sociability and their grading according to developmental-historical (Tönnies, Durkheim) or ultimately ethical criteria (Sorokin’s preference for solidarity over antagonistic forms of sociability). He stressed that they coexisted and enmeshed; they by no means unfolded linearly in history. 7 Obviously, these theses, followed to their logical conclusion, leave the concept of differentiation evolutionism in tatters, as they preclude the full inauguration of undiluted “society,” that would allow history to come to an end. As the recurrence and proliferation of social contract theory in contemporary social theory indicates, the aforementioned inauguration of “society,” should therefore be total. A collective that functions as “society,” also constitutes a “society.” Here an error is made, for which Tönnies and Durkheim have already been rightly criticized: the manner of emergence of the group is confused with its social character; the emergence of “community” from originally compulsory or contractual relations and likewise “society” from originally normative motivations is overlooked. As each kind of social relation can emerge differently, so too can the same origin lead to different kinds of relation. 8

In view of this, the genetic question is a matter of whether individuals found the collective in contract or consensus. It is an entirely different matter whether the collective that they must live in is “socially” organized, that is, the relations between its members are primarily or largely regulated by contract or consensus. The fundamental difference lies in the (theoretical) possibility that the pactus societatis can provide a “communal” organization of the collective. But the question of the nature and intensity of interrelation with respect to “communal” and “societal” cannot be reduced solely to the genetic aspect. It comes, first, from the cohesion of the collective and the ideologies contributing to such, regardless of whether it is understood as norms and values (the narrower sense) or worldviews (the wider sense). The belief that contracts constitute a society and guarantee its cohesion could even be such an ideology. Second, it is provided at the level of social organizations, admittedly in different ways: in an army or a school, it is organized according to a “societal” (i.e., impersonal bureaucratic) model and exists by the (unwanted) admission of individuals. At the same time, “communal” elements are absolutely necessary for the fulfillment of its goals; “societal” and “communal” are intertwined in a different way than a party founded by the free acts of individuals motivated by calculated interests and a sense of belonging, hostile to a third party, and employing rational-organizational as well as charismatic and emotional means for its establishment. Third, the question of the area of non-institutionalized interactions presents itself, that is, the concrete exercise of social influence. As an example, the establishment of more intimate settings is put forward, allowing a continuation of “communal” behaviors, e.g. those originating in village life, within “society.” 9 Incidentally, the scale of the collective or the passage from small to large in no way impairs the effectiveness of (relatively) closed social circles that achieve their goals chiefly by exercise of personal influence. 10

The presence of “communal” elements within “society” does not always and necessarily arise from vestiges of the past that only live on as social structures psychologically. Such elements are constantly being generated on new interactional and symbolic bases within “society” (recall, for instance, the different logic of mass product and mass consumption) and can elicit tensions in the social fabric. Conversely, the “societal” element within a “community” do not make up a heterogeneous and propulsive force that works to break down the boundaries of “community,” but rather primal and functionally indispensable parts of it. 11 This determination disproves the thesis, or rather hypothesis, of the general lack of reflexive individuality in the “premodern” and in “primitive” or “archaic” societies in particular. Geiger appreciated precisely this coupling of sociological and anthropoligcal questions and in his aforementioned critique of Tönnies stressed that no “community” nullifies individuality, that the nature of belonging to a collective varies from individual to individual, and that the objective sociological significance of a group does not necessarily go along with the subjective significance that each of its members possesses. 12 New research reviewing the findings of ethnological studies has since become available, confirming unambiguously that personality does not suddenly come into being on the basis of status specialization within complex societies, nor does the increase in number of individuals amount to a broadening of the spectrum of personality types. The differentiated ego does not dissolve in the seemingly absolute group solidarity of a religious cult, which, to the contrary, provides opportunities for the articulation of individual styles. 13 Individual rational calculi and “free rider” strategies play out no differently and no less within traditional “communities” compared to elsewhere. The same goes for the formal sociological and psychological aspects of power relations and games, whose sophistication and intensity attested since time immemorial can hardly be reconciled with the idyllic imaginations of unanimous-harmonious “community.” 14 The internal diversity of the “community” thus entailed makes its borders with or differences from “society” just as fluid as the borders and differences between particular “communities” it creates, so that a historically or sociologically meaningful use of the term appears impossible. Spanning all “pre-modern,” i.e. pre-industrial collectives, it should hold conceptually and structurally for social formations that fundamentally differ—from the primitive clans and slave societies of antiquity to Western European feudalism and “oriental despotism.” 15 A division can be drawn between all these formations on the one hand and “industrial society” on the other, but only in view of one criterion, which in no way applies to the kernel of the social or the social in itself generally, as the differentiation evolutionists directly or indirectly (would have us) believe. “Community” and “society” are thus equally incapable of giving an objective model for the social-theoretical structuring of human relations or measure of the periodization of history.

In view of the recurring effects of Durkheim’s thought in contemporary social theory, it does not seem superfluous to note that the fundamental sociological concepts of the French are marked through and through by Tönnies’ dualism, despite the desire to neutralize the ultimately economic/labor division tensions within the “society” through the imposition of a “communal” ethical-religious element. But it remains true that Durkheim was fundamentally optimistic in assessing “society” and this assessment rests on a completely ahistorical image of “community.” The dichotomy “community-society,” in his view, is a contrast between “mechanical” and “organic solidarity,” wherein undifferentiated (similar) vs. differentiated (“dissimilar”) stands as the key distinction. However, the concept of differentiation is used ambiguously here. It is not explained whether “similarity” means rule-bound identity within mechanical solidarity, whether it applies to the individual as a whole or particular values and actions, nor whether it comes about spontaneously or by external coercion. In a similar vein, with regard to organic solidarity, it goes unrecognized that in a contractual relationship both similarity (the parties to the contract are fundamentally on the same level) and dissimilarity (each party to the contract keeps his own interests in mind) must exist alongside. The coexistence or enmeshment of similarity and dissimilarity can be found in all known social groups, while the “horde,” which to Durkheim embodies mechanical solidarity in its purest form, represents a pure abstraction; in fact, if mechanical solidarity could function to such an extent as Durkheim wants to suggest, it should be a biological phenomenon rather than social, collective consciousness being inconceivable without consideration of individual consciousness. 16 Durkheim has casually admitted that the unisegmentary horde eludes direct historical observation and can only be described in structure by studying polysegmentary social groups. 17 Despite this, he does not want to noticeably weaken the fundamental dichotomy between the two forms of solidarity and the reason for doing so is apparent when we remember his overall program. Accepting that mechanical and organic solidarity were always interwoven in the history social groups would knock down the pinnacle of evolutionism, which hinges on the idea of transition from one to the other. The more ethical-normative expectations are bound to organic solidarity, the more fervently this transition is anticipated, transforming a social fact into a moral claim for justice by sleight of hand. 18 Durkheim’s example is thus particularly clear illustration of the effects, still felt today, of the antithesis “community-society” bound to historical-philosophical viewpoints and ethical-normative concerns alike.

Bibliography

Badie, B.: Community, Individualism, and Culture, in: P. Birnbaum - J. Leca (eds.), Individualism, Theories and Methods, Oxford 1990, 95-115.

Berreman, G.: Scale and Social Relations: Thoughts and Three Examples, in: F. Barth (ed.), Scale and Social Organization, Oslo 1978, 41-77.

Busino, G.: Critique du Concept Sociologique de « communauté », in: Revue européenne des sciences sociales: Cahiers Vilfredo Pareto 23 (1985), No. 71, 239-255.

Dürkheim, E.: Les regles de la méthode sociologique, Paris 1937.

Geiger, Th.: Die Gestalten der Gesellung, Karlsruhe 1928.

Gurvitch, G.: La vocation actuelle de la sociologie, I - X I , Paris 1957.

Jacobson, D.: Scale and Social Control, in: F. Barth (ed.), Scale and Social Organization, Oslo 1978, 184-193.

König, R.: Die Begriffe Gemeinschaft und Gesellschaft bei Ferdinand Tönnies, Kölner Zs. für Soziologie u. Sozialpsychologie 7 (1955), 348-420.

Lukes, St.: Émile Durkheim. His Life and Work. A Historical and Critical Study, Harmondsworth 1975.

Sorokin, P.: Society, Culture, and Personality. Their Structure and Dynamics, New York, 1962.

Schwartz, Th.: The Size and Shape of a Culture, in: F. Barth (ed.), Scale and Social Organization, Oslo 1978, 215-252.

Reference

Kondylis, Panajotis. 1999. Das Politische Und Der Mensch. De Gruyter.

  1. cf. the full picture according to Berreman, “Scale”, 46–48; here all things regarding the opposition between “small scale” and “large scale societies” are discussed.↩︎

  2. Busino, “Critique”, 247ff.↩︎

  3. König, “Begriffe”, 381, 381f.↩︎

  4. Ibid., 351–353↩︎

  5. Ibid., 382ff., 387ff., 399ff.↩︎

  6. Gestalten, esp. 22f.↩︎

  7. Vocation, I, 116ff.↩︎

  8. Sorokin, Society, 114f.↩︎

  9. About this, see Schwartz, “Size”, 245↩︎

  10. Jacobson, “Scale”, esp. 192f.↩︎

  11. Cf. König, “Begriffe”, 405ff.↩︎

  12. Gestalten, 24ff.↩︎

  13. Scwartz, “Size”, 251, 250.↩︎

  14. Badie, “Community”, 102f.; Busino, “Critique”, 243.↩︎

  15. Badie, “Community”, 99–101.↩︎

  16. Gurvitch, “Vocation”, I, 215ff.↩︎

  17. Règles, 82f.↩︎

  18. The logical leap was striking early on, see for example St. Luke’s Durkheim, 500, citing G. Richard’s objection.↩︎