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Theorizing the Mechanisms of Conceptual and Semiotic Space Colin Wight Philosophy of the Social Sciences 2004; 34; 283 DOI: 10.1177/0048393103262554 The online version of this article can be found at: http://pos.sagepub.com/cgi/content/abstract/34/2/283

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10.1177/0048393103262554 PHILOSOPHY Wight ARTICLE / THEORIZING OF THETHE SOCIAL MECHANISMS SCIENCES / June 2004

Theorizing the Mechanisms of Conceptual and Semiotic Space COLIN WIGHT University of Sheffield

In this piece the author takes issue with Mario Bunge’s claims that conceptual and semiotic systems have “compositions, environments and structures, but no mechanisms.” Structures, according to Bunge, can never be mechanisms in conceptual and semiotic systems. Contra this the author argues that in social systems, social structures (which are concept-dependent and reproduced and/or transformed, at least in part, semiotically), can be mechanisms in the sense that such structures are one of the processes in a concrete system that makes it what it is. As such, not only may conceptual and semiotic systems have mechanisms, but they may also themselves be considered some of the mechanisms that make the social what it is. As such, they can be said to possess powers and liabilities that neither reside at lower levels nor are explainable in terms of the lower level. To hold out the prospect of social explanation by conceptual and/or semiotic mechanisms does not represent an attempt to decouple these systems from material factors. What it does mean is that conceptual and/or semiotic systems can, potentially at least, play a role in social explanation; and themselves be subject to explanation. Keywords: mechanisms; social; structures; cause; explanation; realism; emergence; reductionism

Social mechanisms proliferate; or at least talk about them certainly does.1 Proliferation, however, does not always lead to increased clarity and understanding. Much like those other overused and misused terms, “practice,” “discourse,” and “positivism” talk of mechanisms may occlude more than it illuminates. Perhaps one man’s mechanism is indeed another man’s law, but simply stating this does not seem to help. If we are to talk about mechanisms, it must be the case that this talk, potentially at least, refers to something. If so, some descriptions Received 20 April 2003 1. See, for example, Bunge (1997), Craver (2001), Elster (1989), Glennan (1996), Hedström and Swedberg (1998), Little (1998), Stinchombe (1991). Philosophy of the Social Sciences, Vol. 34 No. 2, June 2004 283-299 DOI: 10.1177/0048393103262554 © 2004 Sage Publications


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may capture what mechanisms are better than others. Until asked to contribute to this special issue, I too had engaged in talk of mechanisms without undertaking a concerted effort to unpack what the term implied. Now, firmly put on the spot, I am forced to reflect, to refine, and perhaps to rethink my understanding of social mechanisms. Fortunately, confession, I am led to believe, is good for the soul. What is good for the soul, however, can be detrimental to one’s intellectual landscape. I had always found myself in broad agreement with much that Mario Bunge had proposed, certainly in relation to what a social science could and should be (Bunge 1993, 1996). This cozy agreement was to be shattered, although not completely, on encountering his article in this special issue. My disagreement centers on Bunge’s (2004 [this issue]) claim that conceptual and semiotic systems have “compositions, environments, and structures but no mechanisms” (P. 191). I find this problematic since Bunge also claims a “mechanism is one of the processes in a concrete system that makes it what it is” (P. 182). Leaving aside problematic issues concerning distinctions between compositions, environments, and structures, Bunge’s two claims imply a clear distinction between structures and mechanisms. Structures, according to Bunge, can never be mechanisms in conceptual and semiotic systems. Contra this, I argue that in social systems, social structures (which are concept-dependent and reproduced and/or transformed, at least in part, semiotically), can be mechanisms in the sense that such structures are “one of the processes in a concrete system that makes it what it is.” As such, not only may conceptual and semiotic systems have mechanisms, but they may also themselves be considered some of the mechanisms that make the social what it is. I suspect, as R. Keith Sawyer (2004 [this issue]) suggests, that part of the difference between Bunge’s position and mine comes down to whether conceptual and semiotic systems are truly emergent. With Sawyer, I believe that they are. As such, they can be said to possess powers and liabilities that neither reside at lower levels nor are explainable in terms of the lower level. Putting the issue this way makes a crucial point. The discussion of mechanisms goes hand in hand with the notion of causal powers that is itself dependent upon the notion of natural necessity (Harré and Madden 1975). And as a result of processes of emergence, causal powers can reside at levels that emerge out of prior levels, which means, of course, that explanation by mechanisms does not imply reductionism (Hedström and Swedberg 1998, 24). We should be clear on what this means. To hold


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out the prospect of social explanation by conceptual and/or semiotic mechanisms does not represent an attempt to decouple these systems from material factors. What it does mean is that conceptual and/or semiotic systems can, potentially at least, play a role in social explanation; and themselves be subject to explanation. The importance of this is underscored by Bunge’s (2004) own claim that “an explanation proper consists in unveiling some lawful mechanism” (P. 182). For this would imply that conceptual and semiotic systems—as systems devoid of mechanisms—would not be susceptible to explanation. This would also imply (incorrectly) that a wholly materialist explanation of the social would suffice. My argument has two steps. First, I address the issue of mechanisms. The discussion here is generic and conceptual; I do not address specific mechanisms but the concept of mechanism itself. Second, I attend to the issue of social structures, arguing that their status as concept-dependent (Bhaskar 1979, 48-49) entails acceptance that they may be both mechanisms and that conceptual systems may have mechanisms. Equally, since concepts in social space are transmitted, in part, semiotically, then semiotic systems too can both have, and be, mechanisms. Bunge is correct; change is integral to any discussion of mechanisms, but change can, and does, occur in conceptual and semiotic systems; indeed, the essence of such systems may be change. On the issue of mechanisms, Bunge seems to adopt an unnecessarily strict materialism where everything in the universe is the result of material/physical forces; ultimately, this would make social science redundant. YET ANOTHER DISCUSSION OF MECHANISMS What is the ontological status of a mechanism? There are two competing ways to answer this question that occur in the literature. The first is to define mechanisms as “analytical constructs that provide hypothetical links between observable events” (Hedström and Swedberg 1998, 13). Claims about mechanisms are not references to real entities and or processes but rather represent analytical constructs that facilitate prediction and/or control. On this analytic view, mechanisms have no existence until posited in theories. There are three major problems with this approach. First, it is at odds with the practice of science. Scientists generally do not simply postulate a mechanism and then stop inquiries if pre-



diction and/or control follow. Scientists routinely put their theoretical posits to the test. They probe them, push them, take them apart, and generally attempt to ascertain if the posits possess the properties ascribed to them in the theory (Hacking 1983). Social scientists do, or at least should do, the same, even if not in the same manner. This is what drives the dialectic of science on. Second, the analytical approach to mechanisms lets the theorist off the ontological hook. If theoretical posits (mechanisms in this instance) are not attempts to refer to real entities, the theorist has no obligation to give an account of them. What matters is that they play their circumscribed role in explanation. Again, this has tended to be one of facilitating prediction and control (Friedman 1984); or as Wittgenstein (1953, no. 154) might have put it, “now I know how to go on.” As long as they fulfill this role, no further investigation is necessary. Third, the analytical view can make no sense of how prediction and control are possible; it fails to describe the mechanisms through which knowledge of mechanisms is turned into control and manipulation. Something that is not real cannot be manipulated and/or controlled. Bunge prefers a realist definition that treats mechanisms as ontological. Claims about mechanisms are not merely analytical but represent attempts to grasp real processes. Indeed, “an explanation proper consists in unveiling some lawful mechanism” (Bunge 2004, 182). An explanation, then, provides an account of how the underlying mechanisms work and the existence of the mechanisms is not dependent upon their specification in any theory. As Roy Bhaskar (1979, 15) also puts it, “The construction of an explanation for . . . some identified phenomenon will involve the building of a model . . . which if it were to exist and act in the postulated way would account for the phenomenon in question.” Mechanisms posited in theories, then, are claimed to exist. Note the stress on the claimed. A scientific realist interpretation of mechanisms does not entail that all mechanisms suggested in every theory exist. If this were the case, science would have no need to go beyond mere claims. The important point, however, is that when mechanisms are introduced into a theory, they are claimed to exist with the suggested powers and liabilities. For realists, it is only if the mechanisms claimed in the theory have the suggested powers that manipulation and control are possible. Moreover, it is only if the mechanism possesses those powers and liabilities that help explain the phenomena that we can be said to have a good theory. It is perfectly possible, however, for a scientific theory to claim the existence of some mechanism when no such mechanism



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exists; the history of science is replete with such examples (Carey 1995). And it is this possibility of error in terms of ontological claims that keeps science skeptical and hence critical. How do we assess the evidence in support of mechanisms and know when we have a good theory? The answers to this question are varied; some testing of the posited mechanisms would not go amiss, but then informed scientific debate, consideration of the evidence, coherence of argument, opinions of peers, and social power and politics (broadly conceived) will also all play a role. Most important, in terms of causal mechanisms, will be practice: will knowledge of causal mechanisms help in terms of the manipulation and control of the phenomena that is of concern? In this respect, Bunge (2004) is correct, we wish to understand mechanisms in order to exercise control. All of these responses point to the fact that scientists need to be epistemological opportunists as opposed to epistemological dogmatists. The range of epistemological supports used to support or reject any ontological claim in science cannot be limited in an a priori sense by the diktats of epistemologists. Epistemology is an honorable tradition, but its value for scientists is to highlight the fault lines and potential pitfalls of believing any one epistemological stance should dominate (Feyerabend, in Parascandalo and Hosle 1995). It is probably this reluctance to commit to epistemological, or academic “gangs” that explains the lack of enthusiasm among many social scientists to consider scientific realism a serious approach (Scheff 1995). Scientific realists are renegades refusing to wear epistemological badges of allegiance; hence, they are always going to seem suspicious to those who have already taken such oaths. These issues cannot be resolved here, but highlighting them helps illuminate my position on mechanisms and the epistemological problems of coming to know them. It also legitimates the following discussion, since it is only when we consider mechanisms to be real that discussion of their precise form becomes relevant. I distinguish between two important types of social mechanisms: control and causal mechanisms.2 Although this is a distinction that makes a difference, it is important not to draw it too firmly since in certain instances, one type of mechanism can operate as the other. The first type of mechanism is that of “social control.” Thus, for example, we talk of “mechanisms” to monitor, and hence control, student attendance at university; we talk of “arms control mechanisms”; or mecha2. This should not be taken to rule out the possibility of further distinctions.



nisms to ensure efficient collection of taxes. In general, this concept of mechanism is derived from a technological understanding (Bunge 2004). According to this view, a mechanism, even a social mechanism, is a process or technique for achieving a desired end state or outcome. In many respects, when we refer to social mechanisms this is what we mean; the arrangement or relation of the parts as adapted to produce an effect. The idea of producing “an effect” demonstrates the close relationship between control mechanisms and causal mechanisms, and hence the reason why we should be wary of drawing the distinction too sharply. Although mechanisms of social control can evolve organically or spontaneously and affect (hence be considered causal) outcomes in an unknown manner, in the vast majority of instances they are consciously designed. Hence, although unobservable, they are generally not unknown. Indeed, in many instances, because of their “function” in terms of desired outcomes very much is known about them. For this reason the metaphors of uncovering, unveiling, or discovering are not integral to the concept of mechanism (Bunge 2004). Equally, although “control mechanisms” attempt to control social processes, they do not always succeed, and in many respects, knowledge of the mechanism helps facilitate noncompliance. Hence, students can play the system, and avoid attending university sessions; governments can circumvent arms control procedures; and tax avoidance is endemic, and in many respects institutionalized, precisely because the collection mechanisms are so well known. The second important type of mechanism much deployed in social science is that of a “causal mechanism.” In general, it refers to the operative or motive part, process, or factor in a concrete system that produces a result. In this sense, a causal mechanism can be regarded as the process, entity or state of affairs involved in, or responsible for, an action, reaction, or outcome of a natural or social phenomenon. As noted by many of the other contributors to this symposium, explanation by way of causal mechanisms can be set in opposition to the covering-law model, or as a complementary, although deeper more complete, form of explanation (Bunge 2004). Indeed, according to Little (1998, 211), explanation via mechanisms is compatible with the covering-law model because laws do not explain; rather, it is the mechanisms that provide the explanation. This raises the issue of laws and generality. Now, if as Bhaskar (1975, 17) puts it, the aim of science is “the production of the knowledge of the mechanisms of the production of



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phenomena in nature that combine to generate the actual flux of phenomena of the world,” then it follows that we can derive an account of laws not embedded within the covering-law model and which, contra Little (1998), do explain. Laws can be understood as statements that describe the operation of mechanisms. Clearly, these are not statements about experiences or events (constant conjunctions perhaps) but are statements about the ways things act in the world. Importantly, these laws must refer to processes that exist independently of their mode of identification. Scientists working in a laboratory manipulate experimental conditions to produce an artificially recurrent set of ordered events, or constant conjunctions. These constant conjunctions, however, cannot themselves constitute the actual causal laws unless we wish to accept the absurdity that scientists in their experimental settings make the laws of nature. There are no naturally occurring constant conjunctions and those that do occur come about as a result of the interventions of scientists. Hence, there is an ontological difference between the laws of nature and the conditions of their identification—the constant conjunctions. If experimental practices and findings are to retain their credibility, the causal source of these regularities must refer to a stratum of reality that is not directly given in experience and that endures outside the artificially constructed closure of experimental situations. Which equally implies that they must operate in open and closed (experimental) systems alike. Surface forms or phenomena, and our experiences of them, then, do not exhaust reality. What we experience is the result of a complex interaction of these structures and mechanisms, which in controlled experimental conditions produce “law-like” regularities. These same entities also generate effects in the world beyond the laboratory but devoid of the interventions of scientists not in the same clean, recurrent stream of cause and effect. Outside of the causally induced effects of closure, they are part of a natural interactional complexity that sometimes results in particular causally produced outcomes whilst at other times in the suppressing or complete neutralization of the generative effects in question. As Andrew Sayer (1992, 100) puts it, “Counteracting forces can override and conceal the effects of a particular mechanism.” Given the contingency and flux of both the natural and social worlds, laws cannot be deterministic. Nothing I do can violate the laws of physics, but the laws of physics do not determine what I will do. Nor do they determine how events will occur. This suggests that



laws do not express universal generalities but powers expressed as tendencies inherent in mechanisms. Equally, mechanisms may interact and counteract each other, and mechanisms can exist without their power being exercised, in which case they are best understood as “potentialities.” This helps explain why regularity determinism is false but also illuminates why there is no conflict between this and the fact that laws may be universal. In open systems, laws can only be universal if they are interpreted in a nonempirical way, that is, as designating the potential (in)activity of structures and generative mechanisms, which are not reducible to, and act independently of, any particular set of constant conjunctions, sequences, and pattern of events (Salmon 1989, 166-67). As indicated, this account of laws and mechanisms also implies an account of dispositional properties (Harré and Madden 1975). Note that the idea of dispositional properties does not assume a permanent “nature” of the object from which all its powers can be always deduced, only that at any given time there is something about the object, a “real internal constitution” (to use Locke’s phrase) that explains the dispositions it in fact has at that time. There seems no way to avoid some kind of irreducibly dispositional properties of physical objects once it is accepted that science cannot be content with finding only the regularity of effects. It does, in any case, seem very odd to deny that objects have dispositional properties that help explain what might happen as well as what actually happens. To deny causal power to mechanisms apart from their manifestations leads to some bizarre consequences, for then dispositional powers could not be ascribed when their displays are absent. Taking precautions to avoid the conditions under which nuclear fuel will explode does not mean that the fuel was not explosive. Furthermore, a theory that only predicted what actually happens, and not what might happen, would be useless as a planning tool. For it would not be able to predict the consequences of a plan that we might consider employing but in the end did not actually use. These questions are of great practical (and political) importance. Focusing on the powers and dispositions expressed as tendencies illustrates why generality is also not integral (at least not always) to the concept of a causal mechanism (Boudon 1998). What is often important, particularly in terms of social understanding, is that we are able to narrate the sequence of events and processes (the causal complex) that lead to events. Sometimes, in fact often, events are caused by a unique configuration of mechanisms; a configuration that may never



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occur again—the end of the cold war, for example. But to say generality is not important is not to say that an event is uncaused. The concepts of causation, generality, and determinism need to be decoupled. Equally, it is generally accepted now that mechanisms are not mechanistic (Bhaskar 1993, 186; Bunge 1997, 411; Machamer, Darden, and Craver 2000, 2). A further issue concerns the problem of reductionism. Bunge (2004) seems to favor reductive explanations, arguing, for example, “perception is a process localized in the cortex” (P. 184). However, his clarification of this point illustrates just how problematic it is, since he also claims that perception is sensitive “not only to external signals but also to internal stimuli” (P. 184). The two claims contradict one another. Perception cannot both be localized in the cortex and be sensitive to both external and internal stimuli. If the former is true, we need not concern ourselves with the notion of external stimuli; if the latter is correct, we should attempt to incorporate it into our explanation. It seems to me that an adequate account of perception would have to explain the processes through which the external mechanisms stimulate the internal ones. Jon Elster (1983) is another who has suggested that the aim of a mechanisms based approach is to seek explanation at a lower level than the explanandum: To explain is to provide a causal mechanism, to open up the black box and show the nuts and bolts. . . . The role of mechanisms is two-fold. First, they enable us to go from the larger to the smaller: from molecules to atoms, from societies to individuals. Secondly, and more fundamentally, they reduce the time lag between the explanans and explanandum. A mechanism provides a continuous and contiguous chain of causal or intentional links; a black box is a gap in the chain. . . . The success of the reduction is constrained by the extent to which macrovariables are simultaneously replaced by micro-variables. . . . The search for micro-foundations . . . is in reality a pervasive and omnipresent feature of science. (Pp. 23-24)3

In terms of social science, this reductionism tends to lead to the belief that explanation via mechanisms is embedded within methodological individualism (Hedström and Swedberg 1998, 12). According to Hedström and Swedberg (1998, 11), what provides the inextricable link between methodological individualism and a mechanisms based approach is the fact that in the social sciences, the “elementary ‘causal 3. To be fair, Elster does now seem to have moved away from this position (see Elster 1999).



agents’ are always individual actors.” This is incorrect and confusing. It is confusing because it rests on an account of “agency” that is not applicable to both the natural and social sciences. In the natural sciences the common meaning (and the one implied by Hedström and Swedberg) attributed to agency is that of a natural force or effect on matter—an oxidizing agent, perhaps. Although this meaning can be found in the social sciences, it is much more common to find agency deployed in a more anthropomorphic manner. As Gayatri Spivak (1996) has put it, The idea of agency comes from the principle of accountable reason, that one acts with responsibility, that one has to assume the possibility of intention, one has to assume even the freedom of subjectivity in order to be responsible. That’s where agency is located. (P. 294)

Valid as this is, it does not provide a comprehensive account of social agency; to argue that there is a locus of responsibility integral to agency is not to argue that this is all there is; the recognition of a “self” should not lead to a denial of the role played by social and cultural factors in producing behavior (Archer 2000). If Spivak’s notion of the “freedom of subjectivity” is necessary for any coherent theory of human agency, it is not sufficient. It is not sufficient, because agents in the social world are differentially located and much of their “capacity to do” (their causal power) is derived from their social positioning. This highlights something important about the term agent in terms of social science: social agents are always agents of something. This something can be the various collectives to which they belong, the organizations and/or institutions on behalf of whom their agency is enacted and the specific positions within these institutions they occupy. The important point is that although it may be correct to argue that the only “causal agents” in the social world are individuals, it does not follow that these are the only causes. And it is here that the metaphor of “underlying causal mechanisms” bewitches us and leads us naturally (although mistakenly) towards reductionism; for many of the important causal mechanisms in terms of social outcomes are not below the level of individuals, but, at least metaphorically, above them, or emergent from their interactions (Sawyer 2004).4 4. Although I am increasingly coming to think that we would do better to discard the metaphors of above and below altogether.



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Intrinsic to this emergent social landscape are conceptual and semiotic systems (Bishop 1989; Kennett 2001; Pietroski 2000; Schick 1991). These are still concrete systems in Bunge’s terms, since they are composed of (although not exhausted by) people and the fruits of their labor.5 Given that they are emergent, however, and given also Bunge’s commitment to systemism (Bunge 2004), there seems little reason to think that either no explanation can be given of them or that their explanation resides at a lower, more fundamental, level. As an alternative to individualism and holism (Bunge 2004), systemism cannot be a reductionist approach. MECHANISMS IN CONCEPTUAL AND SEMIOTIC SPACE What kind of things can be mechanisms? Bunge (2004) suggests “mechanisms are processes in concrete (material) systems” (P. 191). This may be so, but it does not follow that mechanisms need always be concrete things. We need a broader ontology that can incorporate a differentiated view of mechanisms. Here I follow Peter Ossorio (1997) and identify “objects,” “processes,” “events,” “states of affairs,” and “relations,” all of which I consider can be parts of “control” or “causal” mechanisms; or mechanisms in their own right. Does this mean that everything can be a mechanism? Perhaps, but this seems intuitively to cohere with current accounts of science. After all, since concrete systems are not all of a kind, there would seem to be no a priori reason why mechanisms are always the same kind of thing. What specific mechanisms govern a particular system is a matter for research, not theory, even if theory plays a necessary role in their identification and discovery. How do “objects,” “processes,” “events,” “states of affairs,” and “relations” differ? To use Ossiorio’s (1997) own example: Imagine an office complex with a large building and a large parking lot situated in front. Imagine also a number of vehicles parked in the parking lot with one of the vehicles moving out of the space it has occupied. This car exits the parking lot and proceeds down the street. Notice how all of the basic observational concepts are involved in this description. 5. As Bunge (2004, 188) puts it, “The semiotic systems, such as texts and diagrams, are hybrid, for they are composed of material signs or signals, some of which convey semantic meanings to their potential users.”



The vehicles, the building, and the terrain are “objects.” The fact that there are vehicles parked in the parking lot is a “state of affairs,” as is the fact that there is a building and parking lot there. When the vehicle begins to move, it is an “event.” And the vehicle leaving the lot and driving down the road is a process. Binding them all together and providing the structure within which the different ontological forms exist are the “relations.” In many respects, since social objects are “complex” as opposed to “simple,” relations always, in part, constitute them. The relations, then, are not incidental to social objects but play a role in constituting them as objects of a particular kind. Can relations be mechanisms? We can put this question another way. Are relations causal, do they produce any effects? The answer seems obviously, yes. Competition, which is cited by Bunge (2004) as a mechanism, is a relationship. If competition can be a causal mechanism, then so can relations. In fact, it seems obvious that relations can be mechanisms, or at least, there seems to be no reason why they cannot. Moreover, since conceptual and semiotic systems are largely composed of relations, they too may have, or be, mechanisms. Bunge rejects this idea. He rejects it because “changeability (or energy) is the defining property of matter— whether physical, chemical, living, social, or technical” (P. 192). But changeability also occurs in conceptual and semiotic systems. Hence, the problem must be that conceptual and semiotic systems are not concrete. But “matter,” at least in causal terms, should not be reducible to the purely physical. Think of the phrase, “It doesn’t matter.” Or perhaps, consider the use of the word “immaterial.” Neither of these is restricted to merely physical properties or objects. What “matters” (makes a difference), in the context of this discussion, is whether relations “matter” (make a difference). And the relationship between the rich of the world and the poor can hardly be said to be immaterial; this is a relationship that “matters.” Nor is it understandable solely in terms of a differential distribution of economic capabilities; what counts as being rich and/or poor varies across cultural and temporal space and is embedded in conceptual systems. Since relations clearly do matter, there seems no a priori reason to dismiss the possibility that they might be mechanisms (McAdam, Tarrow, and Tilly 2001). If relations “matter,” then so can social structures since social structures are collections of relations that bond or tie the components together (Bunge 2004). Here, it is useful to differentiate between two ways we use the term “structure.” First, we speak of the “structure” of a building, a society, or molecule—a structure, that is, between two or



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more elements. Used in this manner structure refers to a relationship between two or more entities. Second, we call these structured entities themselves “structures,” including the parts (elements, components, relata) whose relations constitute the structure in the first sense of the word. Thus, for example, we might ask of a particular building, “What is that structure over there?” To differentiate these two uses, I follow Andrew Collier (1989, 85) and use the neologism “structuratum” to refer to the second use of structure, and reserve the use of the word “structure” to refer to the relations between the parts, or components, of a structuratum. “Structure,” then, refers to the relations between the constituent elements that make up a “structuratum.” A “structuratum” emerges out of the various structures that make it up, and it has a concrete existence, whilst a structure, as a set of relations, is abstract. A word of caution here; structure as an abstract entity does not refer merely to a concept or a mere theoretical entity. Relations exist independently of our concepts of them. They are abstract only in the sense that they exist as relations between their relata. Social relations, however, emerge out of the positioning and activity of individuals and their products (Archer 1995; Bhaskar 1979; Kontopoulos 1993; Porpora 1987). Hence, they are not prior to, although they may be considered more basic than, individuals. They may, however, be prior to persons (Santayana 1944; Rorty 1976; Margolis 1978; Parfit 1984). Moreover, since they are emergent, they are macro-social phenomena and exist as relations not only between individuals but the larger social process that are also emergent. The sets of social relations that constitute social structures are emergent realities with real causal effects on social outcomes (Bhaskar 1979; McAdam, Tarrow, and Tilly 2001; Sawyer 2004). Hence, they may be considered mechanisms in both a causal and control sense. Moreover, since social structures are concept-dependent, then the conceptual system in which they are embedded may also have mechanisms, and these mechanisms will play an important role in social explanation. It seems curious, given Bunge’s avowed commitment to emergence, that he should deny this. Indeed, many of the examples he provides of mechanisms do seem to require that conceptual and semiotic systems can both have mechanisms and/or be mechanisms. For example, in his discussion of the traditional nuclear family, he describes the family mechanism as consisting of “domestic chores, marital encounters of various kinds, and child rearing” (Bunge 2004, 189). Yet none of these activities could exist independent of a conceptual and/or semiotic system. The same applies to many of Bunge’s



other examples. Hence, for example, he argues that political participation is the main democratic mechanism (Bunge 2004). But how can we explain political participation independent of the conceptual and semiotic space that constitutes the political and participation? This seems particularly important in terms of communication, which is clearly an important mechanism in terms of social outcomes (Sawyer 2004). All social activity presupposes the prior existence of social forms. Speech requires language; making, materials; actions, conditions; agency, resources; activity, rules. Equally, these prior social forms are concept dependent (Bhaskar 1979, 43). The concepts possessed by agents “matter”; they make a difference. And in complex social settings they are part of the causal complex and, hence, may be mechanisms. Indeed, it seems to me that grammar is a paradigmatic instance of a mechanism that operates within language—that rules, norms and expectations likewise, both control and produce outcomes in conceptual systems and that conceptual and semiotic systems are integral to any social science and in need of explanation. Macro-level mechanisms are also integral to social explanation. Theories based on mechanisms situated at the macro level include evolutionary selection, socialization, competition and political participation, racial discrimination, the rule of law. These macro phenomena are not reducible to micro-level explanation; they are also all examples of mechanisms cited by Bunge; and they are all, I would argue, dependent upon a conceptual and/or semiotic systems. In terms of social outcomes, it is important to realize that the effects of macro-level mechanisms are always mediated through individual behaviors and associated micro-level mechanisms. This calls for a combinational type of theory based on both the macro and micro levels able to demonstrate how mechanisms at different levels interact with one another in recurrent combinations (Bunge 1996). This helps address the challenge of outlining in a structured and cumulative way the conditions under which different mechanisms prevail (Bennett 2003). CONCLUSION Despite his claims to the contrary, Bunge’s systemism leaves the door open for a rejection of “macro-level mechanisms” (Sawyer 2004). In part, this is explained by his claim that conceptual and semiotic sys-



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tems have no mechanisms. Yet conceptual systems expressed through various semiotic systems, whilst not exhausting the social world, are an integral part of it; they “matter.” And they matter in ways that cannot be encompassed within Bunge’s view that the “real world is material.” The real world is not exhausted by its material aspects, and those aspects that are real but not material may be significant in terms of outcomes. We do not have to accept that conceptual and semiotic systems float free in an immaterial void but neither do we need to reduce the real to what is material. What matters is what matters, and if macro-level mechanisms are causally implicated in complex ways in the production of social outcomes, we need to theorize them. Conceptual and semiotic systems are important (although not the only) macro-level social phenomena. This means that they may indeed be mechanisms understood as “processes in concrete systems.” Equally, since relations complexly structure conceptual and semiotic systems, they may themselves have mechanisms. Bunge’s denial of mechanisms in relation to conceptual and semiotic systems is based on a materialism gone too far. I share his distaste for those forms of social inquiry that separate ideas and language from the material world, but reducing everything to materiality is not the only way to avoid this unwanted outcome. Moreover, his commitment to emergence and his systemism demand a realist treatment of the nonmaterial, since without it, a physicalist reductionism beckons. This would make social science redundant, something I am sure neither I, nor Bunge, would welcome. REFERENCES Archer, M. S. 1995. Realist social theory: The morphogenetic approach. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. . 2000. Being human: The problem of agency. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bennett, A. 2003. The mother of all isms: Organizing political science around causal mechanisms. Paper presented at the International Studies Association Conference, Portland, OR. Bhaskar, R. 1975. A realist theory of science. Brighton, UK: Harvester. . 1979. The possibility of naturalism: A philosophical critique of the contemporary human sciences. Brighton, UK: Harvester. . 1993. Afterword. In Conversational realities: Constructing life through language, edited by J. Shotter, 185-87. London: Sage. Bishop, J. 1989. Natural agency. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.


298 PHILOSOPHY OF THE SOCIAL SCIENCES / June 2004 Boudon, R. 1998. Social mechanisms without black boxes. In Social mechanisms: An analytical approach to social theory, edited by P. Hedström and R. Swedburg. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bunge, M. 1993. Realism and antirealism in social science. Theory and Decision 35 (3): 207-33. . 1996. Finding philosophy in social science. London: Yale University Press. . 1997. Mechanism and explanation. Philosophy of the Social Sciences 27:410-65. . 2004. How does it work? The search for explanatory mechanisms. Philosophy of the Social Sciences 34:182-210. Carey, J. 1995. The Faber book of science. London: Faber and Faber. Collier, A. 1989. Scientific realism and socialist thought. Brighton, UK: Harvester Wheatsheaf. Craver, C. F. 2001. Role functions, mechanisms and hierarchy. Philosophy of Science 68 (2): 31-55. Elster, J. 1983. Explaining technical change: A case study in the philosophy of science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. . 1999. Alchemies of the mind: Rationality and the emotions. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Friedman, M. 1984. The methodology of positive economics. In The philosophy of economics, edited by D. Hausman. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Glennan, S. 1996. Mechanisms and the nature of causation. Erkenntnis 44:49-71. Hacking, I. 1983. Representing and intervening: Introductory topics in the philosophy of natural science. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Harré, R., and E. H. Madden. 1975. Causal powers: A theory of natural necessity. Oxford, UK: Blackwell. Hedström, P., and R. Swedberg. 1998. Social mechanisms: An analytical approach to social theory. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kennett, J. 2001. Agency and responsibility: A common sense moral psychology. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kontopoulos, K. M. 1993. The logics of social structure. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Little, D. 1998. Microfoundations, method and causation: On the philosophy of the social sciences. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Publishers. Machamer, P., L. Darden, and C. F. Craver. 2000. Thinking about mechanisms. Philosophy of Science 67:1-25. Margolis, J. 1978. Persons and minds: The prospects of nonreductive materialism. Dordrecht, the Netherlands: Reidel. McAdam, D., S. G. Tarrow, and C. Tilly. 2001. Dynamics of contention. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ossorio, P. G. 1997. What there is, how things are. Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour 27 (2): 149-72. Parascandalo, R., and V. Hosle. 1995. Three interviews with Paul K. Feyerabend. Telos 102:115-48. Parfit, D. 1984. Reasons and persons. Oxford, UK: Clarendon. Pietroski, P. M. 2000. Causing actions. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Porpora, D. V. 1987. The concept of social structure. Westport, CT: Greenwood. Rorty, A. O. 1976. The identities of persons. Berkeley: University of California Press. Salmon, W. C. 1989. Four decades of scientific explanation. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.



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Colin Wight is a senior lecturer at the Department of Politics, University of Sheffield. His research interests are in the interface between the philosophy of social science, social theory, and international relations theory. He is currently researching the role played by the “idea of science” in the formation of international relations as an academic discipline. He has published in the Philosophy of the Social Sciences, European Journal of International Relations, International Studies Quarterly, Political Studies, and Millennium.
