Emíle Durkheim, widely seen as the first sociologist, is an interesting intellectual. He wrote extensively on all aspects of society – from religion to education and from the division of labour to suicide. The common theme in all of his works is Durkheim’s perspective on these social facts: for Durkheim modern day societies are characterized by a dynamic between the ‘religion of the individual’ and the need for ‘social solidarity’. In that sense, Durkheim is a structuralist: the individual only exists in a modern day society, the individual ‘emerges’ so to speak from the societal structure.
Of course, there is much to criticize about this claim. For example, this thesis would mean that more primitive societies would lack notions of individuality. To a certain extent, I believe this is true. In contemporary western society we see cultural clashes between immigrants from tribal/agrarian communities and western liberal communities. Westerners perceive the world egoistically, while many immigrants perceive the world through the lens of the collective. Group/family honour, strong in-group/out-group hostility and cocooning are all phenomena that can be explained by Durkheim’s dualism.
Yet, as Steven Lukes in the introduction to Durkheim’s book remarks: it is much more fruitful to perceive Durkheim’s thesis not as a dichotomy but as a gradual concept. Cultures can be placed somewhere along the line of individualist-collective. Still, the fact that Durkheim’s idea is incorporated in a new framework says something about the originality and strength of his ideas.
And in The Division of Labour in Society (1893) Durkheim offers many such insights. The book itself is long-winded, abstract, dry, long and un-interesting – not surprising, considering it was Durkheim’s doctoral thesis. It makes it hard to read for a modern day reader. Luckily, the contents of the book can be summarized fairly well. Also, about half of the book is dedicated to summarizing outdated facts in support of the main theses. Skipping this material doesn’t harm the reader. (For example, Durkheim mentions the then-accepted theory of skull measurements as gender and racial distinctions.)
So, then, what is The Division about?
The main question Durkheim tries to explore and answer is the following: in an ever further industrializing society, characterized by more and more specialization of labour and a growing self-awareness of the individual, where does social solidarity consist in? In other words: each society has to be founded on commonly accepted norms and expectations. If industrialization forces us to be ever more individualistic, where does that leave ‘society’?
Of course, social solidarity (which Durkheim really doesn’t define – I guess he means something like ‘the feelings of sympathy and reciprocity between members of a given society’), cannot directly be measured and observed. This is a problem – at least from a scientific standpoint. Durkheim recognizes this and to turn the study of social phenomena in a science he starts to use proximal phenomena, meaning he looks for indirect clues that say something about social solidarity.
And here we have the blueprint for the entire book: according to Durkheim, there are two types of solidarity: mechanic and organic. Mechanic solidarity consists of the enforcement of the collective consciousness. These are societies that are directed by gods, taboos, rituals and harsh punishments for transgressors – group conformity reigns supreme. Organic solidarity is something rather recent, it is an offspring of the Industrial Revolution, so to speak. As Adam Smith already noted in 1776, the division of labour emphasizes mutual cooperation, between individuals, and preferably between nations as well. In these societies cooperation replaces enforcement and the individual starts to originate. People and companies and governments based their conduct on mutual contracts and voluntary cooperation – leading to an ever-increasing emphasis on protection of rights as the foundation of society.
In short: mechanic solidarity relies on penal law (punishing criminal offenses) while organic solidarity relies on civil, commercial and administrative law (restitution of transgressions).
Durkheim sees the type of law as characteristic for the type of solidarity in society. And since organic solidarity is the future (industrialization was here to stay), he decides that you can characterize societies by the relative amount of non-penal law to the total body of laws. The smaller the number (although he doesn’t quantify – this is impossible, as he mentions in the introduction), the more modern the society.
The rest of the book contains, basically, a criticism of contemporary political economy – which has many parallels to modern day capitalism. In this sense, Durkheim resembles Marx as a criticizer of political economy. The economists of the day (just as today) tend to measure everything on the macro-level and in terms of material data. This approach leaves out the individual feelings of the workers involved. Durkheim recognizes the inherent inequalities in capitalist societies, which lead to inherent inequalities in power and domination. In short: the group who owns property, owns the masses. This is totally un-meritocratic and can be classed in the same group as societies based on castes (such as Hinduism).
For Durkheim, the division of labour can be a foundation for social solidarity, but this requires that (1) natural qualities should lead to differences in rewards, and (2) redistribution of wealth to those who are worth less (from a societal point of view) is necessary. While Durkheim saw himself as a liberal, he sounds more like a social-democrat to me.
Another problem Durkheim recognizes in the modern day capitalist societies is a product of the ‘religion of the individual’ and the nature of the specialized work. Again, Adam Smith already foresaw the problem in his Wealth of Nations (1776), when he described how one pin maker is outdone in economic output by 10 specialists. From an economic point of view, this increased output means growth of productivity and thus growth of wealth. But for the 10 individuals involved, this means that the rest of their lives they have to act – day in, day out – as a machine, constantly repeating the same movements while at the same time feeling no connection to the output anymore. Marx called this alienation, but Smith was more on point in warning that the nature of this work atrophies the human intellect. Industrialization breeds masses of dumbed down people lacking any purpose or means in life. (It is, by the way, interesting to note that most liberals tend to focus on Smith’s explanation of division of labour as generator of wealth, while completely leaving out the dehumanization theme.)
Anyway, back to Durkheim.
Durkheim mentions the fact that economics and economists should focus more on individual happiness instead of the economic superstructure. The division of labour can go too far and created rigidity and frozen parts – throughout the book he likes to draw analogies between societies and organism. When this happens, the individual dissolves in society, which brings us back to the original question. How can individualism and social solidarity coexist, especially within a capitalist society?
The inherent tension created social problems (such as increased suicide rates), but Durkheim was an optimist – one of the few optimists; most of the fin de siècle intellectuals were pessimists and doom thinkers – and saw the historical necessity of progress. He had high hopes for a future in which sociology could explain to us which moral system was the best and offer us a blueprint for such a just and equal society. The problems with thinking along such lines are evident: (1) it is highly utopian; (2) it confuses ethics and science; (3) it is extremely technocratic (almost on a Brave New World-level); and (4) it is inherently flawed.
(1) and (2) are self-evident. (3) is more interesting to elaborate on: in our current society we see an elite who think it can fix anything with science and technology. Information is the key to a better life. If we just tell people that smoking has a high chance of causing lung cancer, people will stop smoking. And if they won’t listen to reason, we will force them to do as we want, by increasing taxation on cigarettes ever more. The word ‘reason’ here is extremely important: the current intellectual elites like to enforce their own lifestyle and norms on society as a whole. Their own guilt is projected on the masses, who are the ones that have to pay for the fads of the elites.
You can already see this line of thinking (optimism) in the Enlightenment: people like William Godwin and Condorcet foresaw a future in which humanity was happy and would suffer no longer, because science and reason would lead us to understand the world fully. And this understanding would usher in a new age of peace and quiet and happiness. While it is easy to laugh at such ideas, I beg the reader of this review to look around him/her and honestly declare that this mindset isn’t all-pervading around us. Human, all too human problems are chopped up into pieces, the pieces are scientifically studied, consultants are then paid to draw conclusions and offer institutions policy recommendations. Problem solved!
There is constant pushback on this secular religion. One can see it, for example, in the medical world, where technology is deemed to be a god, and everything that is possible should be done. This way of thinking, prevalent among medical practitioners, leaves out the human side. Many diseases are products of lifestyle, perhaps we ought to live more disciplined lives and/or change our environment to increase health? And what about the social costs of ever-increasing technological breakthroughs in medicine? Someone should pay for it – who? And what about simply dealing with the finitude of human life? Shouldn’t we just accept that life isn’t all happiness, and that some people die?
Another important phenomenon, that of ever-increasing specialization, adds to our problems. It is almost impossible for an average person to understand the world around him/her. With much schooling it is possible to understand one domain – for example, one can acquire a deep understanding of artificial intelligence and IT – but this leaves out all the rest. For most people, the world becomes harder and harder to understand, especially when changes occur ever more rapidly and these changes themselves are ever more impactful on our daily lives.
In short: the capitalist-technological outlook on life leaves out ethical and political questions, while the increasing specialization and subsequent compartmentalisation of society leave many people feeling empty and uneasy. We seem to be lost: making sense of the world around us seems like a mission impossible. When one adds globalization in the mix and realizes that this problem is becoming a global, humanitarian, problem, one sees an important factor for the unrest in many societies and the reactionary trends (back to the nation-state, isolationism, opposition to the elites, etc.). All over the world, people feel more and more uncomfortable, while materially the world is doing better than ever.
In this modern day problem, there is much we can learn from Durkheim. Measuring material wellbeing is something entirely different than measuring psychological (Durkheim’s ‘moral’) wellbeing. Specialization and division of labour tend to increase the first, at the cost of the latter. Social problems (like suicide rates) are still with us. And social solidarity isn’t self-evident – rather, it tends to be on the retreat in many industrialized nations.
The only thing we cannot take from Durkheim’s The Division of Labour in Society is his optimism for the future. Current trends seem to be rather in the other direction: considering globalization and the multipolar world of 2019, it is rather much more plausible that inequality will increase, psychological wellbeing will decline and individual freedoms will be lost.