THE

SOCIAL

THEORIES

OF

TALCOTT
PARSONS
THE
I
SOCIAL
I
THEORIES
I OF

PRENTiCE-HALL, INC
PARSONS
A CRITICAL EXAMINATION

edited by MAX BLACK

Cornell University

Englewood Cliffs, N. J,
Fourth Printing May, 1964

The Social Theories of Talcott Parsons

© 1961, BY PRENTICE-HAIX, INC.

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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF

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PREFACE

The following essays have resulted from an intensive study

at Cornell University of the work of Talcott Parsons. group A
of ten facultymembers, who had been both puzzled and stimu-
lated by Parsons' writings, met regularly during the academic
year of 1957-58 for discussion. In the next academic year, there
followed a series of seven public seminars, widely attended by
faculty and graduate students, culminating in a session at which
Parsons himself answered tlie criticisms he had received. The
papers here assembled are revised and elaborated versions of
studies originally prepared for those seminar meetings.
The warm thanks of all concerned are due to Professor Par-
sons for the patience, good humor, and generous expenditure
of time witli which he has responded to the labors of his critics.
Their esteem for him is sufficiently attested by the serious and
prolonged attention they have given to his investigations. Ac-
knowledgment is also due to Henry Landsberger, for originat-
ing the project, and to the Cornell Social Science Research
Center, and its director, William F. Whyte, without whose sup-
port little could have been accomplished.
Choice of one member of the group as editor is a biblio-
graphical convenience. While all the contributors have learned
much from one another, each of them is solely responsible for
the manner and matter of his contribution.

M. B.
CORNELL UNIVERSITY
O

ABBREVIATIONS |
used in references to |
Parsons’ writings B

ASQ A Sociological Approach to the Theory of Organiza-

tions. Administrative Science Quarterly, I (June
1936), pp. 63-85; II (September 1956), pp. 225-239.

ES Economy and Society (1957)

ESSAYS I Essays in Sociological Theory, first edition (1949)

ESSAYS II Essays in Sociological Theory, revised edition

(1954)

ESI Family, Socialization and Interaction Process

(1955)

GTA Toward a General Theory of Action (1951)

SA The Structure of Social Action (1937)

SS The Social System (1951)

WF Working Papers in the TheOJjj of Action (1953)

Note; GTA tvaspublished by Harvard University Press, SA by McGrato-Hill,

the other books by The Free Press, Glencoe, Illinois. A bibliography of Parsons’
toritings through 1959 is included in his Stnictnre {ind Process in Modern So-
cieties {Glencoe, III.: The Free Press, 1960).
0

1
NOTES
H on the Contributors

ALFRED L. BALDWIN, professor of Child Development and Family

Relations at Cornell since 1953. Before coming to Cornell as chairman of the
department he served as professor and chairman of the department of Psy-
chology at Kansas University. He has also been a Research Associate for the
Fels Research Institute (1941-49). His publications include Behavior and
Development in Childhood (1955) and numerous papers.

MAXBLACK, professor of Philosophy at Cornell since 1946, previously

taught at tile University of Illinois and London University. He is a past presi-
dent of die American Pliilosophical Association and a member of the Interna-
tional Institute of Philosophy. His publications include The Nature of
Mathematics (1933), Critical Thinking (1946, revised ed. 1952), Language
and Philosophy (1949), and Problems of Analysis (1955), He has been a co-
editor of The Philosophical Review since 1946.

URIE BRONFENBRENNER, professor of Child Development and Family

Relations at Cornell since 1948, has had varied professional experience, in-
cluding teaching at the University of Michigan and service in the Division of
Neuropsycliiatry, Veterans Administration and in the Office of Strategic Serv-
ices. His writings include Talent and Society (co-author, 1958), and The
Measurement of Sociometric Status^ Structure^ and Development (1945).

EDWARD C. DEVEREUX, JR., came to Cornell University as professor of

Child Development and Family Relationships after previous service at Colum-
bia, Princeton, and the University of Toronto. While a graduate student at
Harvard, he served for four years as teaching assistant to Talcott Parsons
(1936-40). He has been a Fidbright Research Scholar and visiting professor
at the Institut fiir Sozialforschung in the Goethe University at Frankfurt am
Main (1956-57).
ANDREW HACKER has been teaching at Cornell since 1955 in the fields
of American Government, Political Parties, Political Behavior, and Political
Theory. In addition to numerous articles in journals, he has written a book
entitled Political Theory: Philosophy^ Ideology, Science (1961).

HENRY A. LANDSBERGER, associate professor of Industrial and Labor

Relations, has been assistant director of the Cornell Social Science Research
Center. He teaches the sociology and the social psychology of industry and is
the author of Hawthorne Revisited and various papers. His experience includes
training in clinical psychology and research at the Oxford Institute of
Statistics.
viii ISlotes on the Contributors

CHANDLER MORSE, professor of Economics, has been at Cornell Uni-

versity since 1950. Hehas taught also at Dartmouth and Williams College.
During the war he held various positions in the Research Branch of the OSS
and became Assistant Director of Research and Statistics at the Federal Re-
serve in Washington in 1946. His publications include works on social ac-
counting, international economics, and the economics of natural resource
scarcity. A book on the latter subject of which he is co-author is to be pub-
lished by Resources for the Future, Inc.

TALCOTT PARSONS, professor of Sociology, Harvard University. He has

also served as visiting professor of Social Tlieory at the University of Cam-
bridge (1953-54) and as a Fellow of the Center for Advanced Study in the
Behavioral Sciences (1957-58). He is a past president of tlie Eastern Sociolog-
ical Society and of the American Sociological Association, a Fellow of the
American Academy of Arts and Sciences and a member of tlie American
Philosophical Society. His publications include The Structure of Social Action
( 1937), Essays in Sociological Theory ( 1949, revised ed. 1954), Toward a Gen-

eral Theory of Action (witli E. A. Shils and others, 1951), The Social System^
(1951), Economy and Society (with N. J. Smeker, 1956), and Structure and
Process in Modern Societies (1960).

WILLIAM FOOTE WHITE has been a professor of Industrial and Labor

Relations at Cornell Universit)' since 1948 and tile director of the Cornell
Social Science Research Center since 1956. Before coming to Cornell he taught
at tlie University of Chicago and tlie University of Oklahoma. He is the
editor of Human Organization (official journal of the Society for Applied
Antliropology) and is a member of the American Academy of Arts and
Sciences. His writings include the following books; Street Comer Society
(1943, revised cd. 1955), Human Relations in the Restaurant Industry (1948),
Pattern for Industrial Peace (1951), Money and Motivation (1955), and Man
and Organization (1959).
ROBIN M. WILLIAMS, JR., professor of Sociology at Cornell since 1948
and chairman of the Department of Sociology and Ajithropology since 1956.
He has taught at the University of Kentucky and was Senior Statistical Ana-
lyst, European Tlieater of Operations, U.S. War Department, 1943-46. He has
been a visiting professor at die University of Oslo and at the University of
Hawaii. He is a past .president of tlie American Sociological Society and of the
Sociological Research Association. His numerous professional acti\aties include
service on tlie Board of Directors of the Social Research Council, Among his
The Reduction of Intergroup Tensions (1947), contributions to
writings are
The American Soldier (1949), American Society: A Sociological Interpretation
(1951). He is a co-autlior of Schools in Transition (1954), and What College
Students Think (1960).
CONTENTS

Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

parsons’ sociological theory 1

Robin M. Williams, Jr.

THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF

TALCOTT PARSONS 64

Chandler Morse
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES 100

Alfred L. Baldwin
THE PARSONIAN THEORY OF
PERSONALITY 153

Urie Bronfenbrenner

parsons’ theory of
IDENTIFICATION — 191

Henry A. Landsberger
parsons’ theory of organizations 214

William Foote Whyte

parsons’ theory applied to
ORGAMZATIONS 250
X Contents

Max Black
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PARSONS’
THEORIES 268

Andrew Hacker
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY 289

Talcott Parsons
THE POINT OF ^TEW OF THE AUTHOR 311
THE
SOCIAL

THEORIES

OF

TALCOTT
PARSONS
PARSONS’
Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

I SOCIOLOGICAL
I
THEORY
o

In the Dedication of The Social System, Talcott Parsons

describes himself as an incurable theorist. On this one point
even liis severest critics would hasten to agree. Certainly
he has done a great deal more of theorizing than any other
contemporary American sociologist; and it is also probably
true that he has done rather less of anything else. At a
time when others have been turning more and more to
empirical research, Parsons has never published a paper
reporting dhectly on data derived from a specific empirical
investigation. And in a generation when others have been
concerned with “theories of the middle range,"' Parsons has
stood virtually alone in his concern with the construction
of a total, general theoretical system. The magnitude of
his eflForts in pursuit of this single-minded goal is amply
attested in the long series of theoretical publications listed
at the end of this volume.
In this initial paper I shall
first say a little about Parsons'

career, paying particular attention to the sequence of influ-

ences which seem to have contributed most to the shaping
of his theory. Second, I shall say something about the theo-
retical antecedents of Parsonian theory and try to indicate
2 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

the ways in which Parsons sought to resolve the diflSculties he saw in

the tlieories of some of his predecessors. And finally I shall try to

sketch, with a very broad brush, the main outlines of the theory
itself, as it has been developing over the past tliree decades.
This latter task in particular I approach with some trepidation,
for as everyone knows tlie Parsonian theoretical forest is vast and
tangled, a veritable jungle of fine distinctions and intertwining
classifications. Moreover it is still growing at a prodigious rate,

as evidenced by the publication of no less than fourteen additional

papers in the year after this paper was originally prepared. And,
like Birnam Wood, it moves: Parsonian theory in tlie late 1950’s
differs in some important respects from that of a decade ago.
Space and the purpose at hand preclude any attempt here to
examine this Parsonian forest tree by tree and branch by branch.
My objective is merely to achieve some overall perspective. And
this, it seems to me, may best be ser\'^ed by standing rather far

away and squinting a little.

Let me concede at once that the approach I propose to follow
here is dangerous. I shall need to be drastically selective in my
choice of the tliemes to be discussed, and any such selection must
inevitably involve at least an element of personal prejudice. Other
rewewers would undoubtedly select somewhat different points for
emphasis; and Parsons himself is not much help because of Ins

exasperating tendency to insist that each and every point in his

entire system is fundamental.
In the interests of communication, moreover, I shall deliberately
seek to avoid becoming entangled in the peculiar subtleties and ob-
scurities of Parsonian language. Parsons has been explaining his
own tlieories in his own words these many years, but tlie e\ddence
is rather impressive that he has not always succeeded in making
himself understood. Here, I shall not undertake to explain Parsons
by quoting him. At the risk of seeming “unscholarly” I shall try to
state as directly and simply as possible what it is I tliink he has
been saying.
It is not only his language which has placed a barrier between
Parsons and liis readers. There is also his practice of writing at a

level of sustained abstraction, pyramiding argument upon argu-

ment with hardly any reference to the realms of empirical phe-
parsons’ sociological theory • 3

nomena might conceivably apply* Here, I shall make

to wliich tliey
an supply empirical referents for some of the Parsonian
effort to
notions under consideration, but let it be clear that at many points
I have simply had to guess.
My objective in setting forth this oversimplified account is not,
however, to provide a primer for students of Parsonian theory. My
main purpose is ratlier to caU attention as forcibly as I can to the
fact tliat Parsonian tlieory, for all of its intricate complexities and
details, is primarily a general tlieory. I am convinced that Parsons
liimself is far more interested in the grand design than he is in any
particular details. Inevitably, in the course of thedevelopment and
elaboration of his theor)’, he has developed innumerable detailed
classifications and attempted innumerable empirical generafiza-
tions. Inevitably, also, much of tlie response to his work has been
focused on tliese details. As some of the later papers in this book
bear ample witness, critics have rightfully taken issue wdtli this
or that particular classification, or have challenged particular em-
pirical generalizations, or have voiced a general exasperation at the
fuzziness of Parsonian definitions. Similarly, critics and supporters
alikehave usually managed to find somewhere in Parsons at least
a few valued nuggets of theoretical construction or empirical in-
sight.
But these are not the grounds, as I see it, on which Parsons
would prefer to be judged. It is not enough, he would argue, to
create particular ad hoc classifications, however useful they may
be, or to hit upon fruitful empirical insights. The main point is
that these classifications and insights should occur within tlie frame-
work of a systematic general theory, should flow from it or some-
how be generated by it. In the present paper, tlierefore, I shall try
to keep the focus directly upon the general theory itself, omitting
or simplifying the details, but stressing always the over-all plan.

A NOTE ON EXPOSURES AND INFLUENCES

IN parsons’ career

I was asked to say something about tlie influences that

have
contributed to the development of Parsons’ thinking, and I am
in-
4 Edward C, Deoereux, Jr,

clined to do so rather briefly. For it seems to me that when one is

it is its substance rather than

discussing a scientific theory, its origin
tliatought to be the main focus of attention.
With respect to Parsonian theoiy, however, the question of sali-
ent exposures may have some special interest. For Parsons has
always regarded himself as something of a maverick in the field
of sociology and has exasperated many of his critics by his failure
to build on tire work of other pioneers in American sociology. In-
deed reviewers have noted with alarm that in Parsons’ first full-
length monograph. The Structure of Social Action, there is not a
single indexed reference to such figures as Cooley, Ross, W. I.
Thomas, or G. H. Mead. Clearly Parsons came to sociology by a
different and devious route.
My task of reviewing the influences which contributed to Par-
sons’ tliinking is greatly lightened by
fact that he has himself
tlie

just written a more extensive account of these influences, to which

readers wishing more detail are referred.*’
Very sketcliily tlien, let it be noted that Parsons was the son of
a Congregational clergyman, later to become president of Marietta
College. He received his undergraduate ti'aining at Amherst Col-
lege, where no sociology has ever been taught. His undergraduate
major was in biology and at the time he was contemplating a
career in medicine. Although this particular path was short-
circuited, Parsons’ interests in both biology and medicine have
survived to play a major role in this thinking. More directly in tlie
realm of social science was a pliilosophy course with Clarence Ayers
on “The Moral Order” in which Parsons was exposed to the works
of Sumner, Cooley, and Durkheim, and work in economics with
Walton Hamilton, the institutional economist, from whom Parsons
gained an acquaintance with the works of Veblen and John R.
Commons, and a lifelong interest in the sociological parameters of
economic activities.
It was this latter interest which sent Parsons next for a year to
the London School of Economics, where he studied witlr L. T. Hob-
house, Morris Ginsberg, and Bronislaw Malinowski, the first an au-

* Talcotl Parsons, “A Short Account of My Intellectual Development,”

Alpha Kappa Deltan, XXIX :1 (Winter 1959), pp. 3-12. My account
here leans heavily on this source.
parsons' sociological theory • 5

tliorityon the evolution of morality, tlie second an expert on tlie

economic institutions of preliterate societies, and the third a pio-
neer in tlie development of structural-functional analysis in an-
tliropology. All of tliese interests, like tliose aroused at Amherst,
have remained central in Parsons’ tliinldng tliroughout liis career.
There followed a year at Heidelberg where Parsons made his
initial acquaintance wdth German sociology. The main influences of

tliis period stemmed not from living teachers but from the pub-

lished works of such giants of preceding generations as Max

Weber, Werner Sombart, and Karl Marx, After a year of teaching
at Amherst, Parsons returned to Heidelberg to take his doctoral
degree. His diesis was concerned witli the conceptions of capitalism
in the literature of German social science, especially in the works
of tlie three theorists mentioned. Through his own later work, Par-
sons was to play a major role in introducing Weber to American
sociologists. Unfortunately forAmerican readers, Parsons also
liis

brought back from Germany the complex, ponderous style of writ-

ing which has characterized so much of his scholarly output.
The balance of Parsons’ professional career, except for occasional
leaves of absence, has been spent at Harvard Univ^ersity, first

briefly as an instructor in the Economics Department, next as an

instructor and charter member of the newly organized Department
of Sociology, and finally, after he had become a full professor, as
founder and first chairman of the Department of Social Relations.
The influences which have played upon Parsons during these tliree
decades are numerous and complex, but perhaps it is fair to say
only a minor role was played by established sociologists who were
senior to Parsons, either at Harvard or elsewhere in America.
During his short period in die Economics Department, he worked
particularly widi F. W. Taussig, to whom he attributes his initial
and lasting interest in Alfred Marshall, and with T. N, Caiwer, who
further sharpened his interest in the moral and ethical problems of
an industrial society. Parsons’ discovery of Vilfredo Pareto, the
Italian economist-turned-sociologist, led liim inevitably into close
contact with Harvard’s famous biochemist, L. Henderson, who
J.
had become a leading disciple of Pareto and who shared and
fostered Parsons’ interest in the parallels between organisms and
societies as systems. Henderson’s book on The Fitness
of the En^
6 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

vironment,*^ together with that of Walter Gannon, on The Wisdom

of the Body f may be counted as major influences in tlie shaping
of Parsons’ o^vn notions about tlie properties of systems. Through
Henderson also, Parsons was drawn into close contact with Elton
Mayo and others at the Harvard Business School who were then
engaged in pioneer research and theorizing about the social and
human problems of industrial organization.
Aldiough Parsons had never any formal course work in
talcen
psychology, liis had led him to read widely in
systematic interests
tills field. Wolfgang Koliler’s works on Gestalt psychology con-

tributed much to Parsons’ thinking about the organized and func-

tional properties of orientation and perception in goal-seeking situ-
ations, and E. G. Tolman’s pioneer work on purposive behavior in
animals and man helped to sharpen Parsons’ tliinking about the
physiological and psychological roots of goal-seeking behavior. But
tliese psychologies seemed relatively thin with respect to the prob-
lems of personality organization and development, and in these
areas Parsons was influenced most heavily by Freud and his fol-
lowers. In addition to his extensive readings in tliis area. Parsons
furthered liis training by undergoing a didactic analysis.
I have focused thus far on influences which flowed toward Par-
sons from others with established positions. In fact, of course, as
soon as Parsons had established his own solid footing in the field,
the influences flowed in both directions. This was certainly the case
with respect to Parsons’ interactions with such colleagues and con-
temporaries as Glyde Kluckhohn in anthropology, O. H. Taylor in
economics, or Samuel Stouffer in Social Relations. And it was still
more the case in Parsons’ relations xvith several generations of
junior colleagues and graduate students who sojourned at Harvard,
a changing group which in the first decade included such people
as R. K. Merton, Kingsley Davis, Robin Williams, and Wilbert
Moore, somewhat later included people like Marion J. Levy, Albert
Gohen, David Aberle and Bernard Barber, and in the most recent
decade, R. F. Bales, Edward Shils, James Olds, Ren^e Fox, and Niel
Smelser, to mention only a few. \Wiereas it is true that all of tlrese

® (Now York: Tlie Macmillan Company, 1913.)

f (New York; Norton, 1932.)
I'AnSONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY * 7

people were deeply influenced by their contnets with Pursons, it is

also tme that Parsons’ own theories have been influeneed by his
interactions with them.
If it is true that one absorbs a part of all that ho has met, we
should not be surprised to find that various strands of Parsonian
thcor)' reflect and incorporate elements of biology and medicine,
of economics, especially of institutional economics, and of the
utilitarian tradition from which it emerged, of Gorman formal
sociology, with its propensities for ponderous systematic analysis,
together witli its and Vcrstchen, of structural-
traditions of idealism
*

functional analysis as developed by Durkheim and the anthro-

pologists, and of Gestalt and Freudian psychology. But Parsonian
iJicory is not simply an eclectic amalgam of elements drawn from
these sources. The main point is how its author responded to these
influences and constructed from them u single systematic theory
which is uniquely Parsonian. Let us turn at once to the substance
of the matter.

EMERGENCK OF THE VOLIJNTAIIISTIC THEORY OF ACTION

/The theory of social action which has come to be associated with

Parsons’name did not .spring full-armed from the Parsonian fore-
head. Before settling down to the serious business of developing
his own theoretical system. Parsons devoted a decade of produc-
tive scholarship to a careful critique of the theoretical systems of
some of his prcdeccssors.*’)By examining the kinds of substantive
and methodological issues which seemed most salient for him in
the works of others, we may hope to learn something of the basic
orientations which underlie Parsons’ own approach to social theory,
^ocial theory, ns Parsons saw it, had been developing in essen-
tially three different schools or traditions, each committed to ap-

parently conflicting notions about the nature of man, society and

” I ennnot Inko space hero to review Parsons' criticjiio of pnrliciilnr

B
tlicorisls. Tlic fruits of llicsc critical efforts arc set forth in the fifteen
ho published between 1928 and 1937, and in his first book-
monograph,, SA, pifblishcd in 1937. For detailed rcTcrcnccs,
see the Bibliography mentioned on page vi above.
8 * Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

human behavior, indeed, even of scientific method. The utilitarians

and classical economists had been attempting to develop essentially
a rationalistic, individuahstic theory of social behavior; the posi-
tivists had been attempting to develop a theory which could handle
human behavior in terms of determinate scientific laws of the sort
wliich served so well in physics or biology; and the idealists had
been attempting to develop a theory which interpreted concrete
social phenomena essentially as emanations from the realm of
cultural values.
In Parsons’ view, each of these schools had grasped an essential
part of the truth, but not all of i^And correspondingly, whereas
each had successfully developed various special theories, no one by
itself could provide an adequate basis for a general theory of social

action. Parsons saw his own task, initially, as one of reconciliation

and integration. Indeed, he argued that tliis task was already half
done before he turned his own attention to it. For it appeared to
him that in fact certain of the more sophisticated thinkers in each
of these traditions had already become aware of the limitations of
their own starting points, and in attempting to overcome tliem, had
moved independently toward convergence on a common theoretical
scheme. Tn The Structure of Social Action, Parsons attempted to
document this thesis in some detail with respect to the works of
Marshall, Durkheim, Pareto, and Max Weber, and to state in more
general analytical terms the nature of the theoretical framework
toward which these theorists seemed to be converging. It was this
framework, designated then as the voluntaristic theory of action,
which became the core of Parsons’ own theory ^/Virtually all of his
subsequent work has been devoted to its systematic development
and elaboration.
Let us review the issues which seemed most salient for [Link]
in his analysis of the assets and liabilities of these three apparently
conflicting approaches to social theory.

Utilitarianism and Economic Theory

(jEconomic theory has always had a special appeal for Parsons,

two reasons! It is elegantly analytical and systematic,
essentially for
and thus represents for Parsons a model of what a really good
parsons' sociological theory • 9

theory ought to look like.^And it is definitely a theory of action

the mainspring or force which is assumed ultimately to determine

the flow of goods and services tlirough the market is always some
notion of individuals, or firms, orienting themselves in a situation
and acting in advance their economic inter-
some way designed to

ests. The subjective processes of orientation and decision-making

and some notion of purposive action are thus integral to the struc-
ture of die theory. This, Parsons maintains, makes it a very different
sort of theory from what one would have if economic laws were
simply statements of statistical uniformities in observed economic
behavior. It is also basically a better sort of theory, in Parsons’ view,
because it deals \vith die human qualities of action, directly ac-
cessible to experienceand "understanding,” and because it supplies
a motivational dynamic wliich helps not only to “explain” observed
behavior but also to anticipate what might be ejqiected to happen
under various assumed conditions. Parsons’ own objective has al-
ways been to build a general dieory of sociology which would be
based on some such action principle.
(But Parsons saw economic theory as caught in a difiScult dilemma.
On the one hand, it could hold itself to the task of building tiieo-
retically neat analytical models, attempting to work through sys-
tematically what might be expected to occur under various sets
of carefully but rather arbitrarily and narrowly defined assumptions
about the nature of economic motivation, rationality, knowledge,
competition, rules of the game, and so oi. One might point to re-
cent developments in the tlieory of games as a rather sopliisticated
exercise in this sort of model building. (jBut economists who hold to
tliis conception of Parsons reasoned, must forever accept
tlreir role.

the fact tliat their elegant systems do not apply very precisely to
the empirical world of on-going economic activities, For these are
never purely economic or purely rational, but are always embedded
in acomplex matrix of noneconomic or, broadly, sociological factors!^
To extent that these noneconomic parameters of economic be-^
tlie

hawor interact in any fundamental way wath the operation of the

economic system itself, it seemed to Parsons tliat aj^urely economic
could never achieve the status of a generahtheory, even of
tlieory
economic behavior^
On the otlier hand, economists could attempt to bring their
PAKSONS’ SOCTOLOGICAL THEORY * 11

rationalistic, action basis. Let us consider briefly the substantive

issues which Parsons held to be the major sources of diflSculty.
First, tirere was tlie problem of order. Most orthodox economic
theorists tended to ignore this problem and to take order pretty
much for granted. From Adam Smith, right through to T. N.
Carver, view was widespread that/ given freedom, rationality,
tlie

and enlightened self-interest, people would automatically develop

systems of cooperation, contract, and exchange which would re-
sult in mutual benefit for all. It was (assumed that the natural
mechanisms of the market place would WHehow create an order
witliin wliich an optimum of wealtli and satisfaction could be
achieved.
To Parsons, tliis argument seemed to sidestep the classical
Hobbesian dilemma: if men are free to pursue tlieir o\vn self-inter-

est, tlie paths of rationality will not always lie in the direction of
cooperation and exchange; for collusion, force, and fraud ivill also
present themselves as rationally attractive alternatives. But Hobbes’
solution, which consisted of invoking a sovereign as a sort of cleus
ex machim to hold a monopoly on the use of force and to use it to
insure tlie fulfillment of contractual obligations, seemed to Parsons
far too pat. For he was convinced that an externally imposed order
would be extremely precarious and brittle: if there cannot be a
poh’ceman at every stoplight and every store front, ther/ must be
some positiv^motivation to conformity over and beyondidie fear
of sanctions./ljocke’s solution of the same dilemma, which turned
upon an implicitly postulated “natural identity of int^ests,^’ .seemed
to Parsons equally unsatisfactory He felt that in pointbf fact, Locke
was probably right: tliat sociarorder does indeed depend upon a
broad stratum of common values and interests. But to take these
for granted, as somehow given in nature, seemed to beg such es-
sential questions as where they come from, how they are generated
,

and maintained, what determines their particular content, and how

tliese differences in
content affect the operation of the social system.
In die end, Parsons concluded that neitlier the utilitarians nor
die classical economists were able to develop an adequate general
theory of social order xvidiin the individualistic, rationalistic frame-
work of dieir theoretical systems. For order, as he saw it, could not
be a resultant either of rational self-interest or of externally imposed
12 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr,

sanctions alone, but must

on a core of institutionalized com-
rest
mon values. The order of the market place, he argued, was es-
sentially a factual order. If it was also a moral order, it must be
because of the operation of factors not adequately conceptualized
in the existing theories. Durkheim’s recognition of the noncon-
tractual element in contracts seemed to Parsons a giant step in the
right direction.
On yet a second front. Parsons argued, the preoccupation of the
utihtarians and ortliodox economists with rationality got them into
serious theoretical difficulties. So long as these tlieorists concerned
tliemselves with rational behavior alone, their action frame of refer-
ence seemed to work well enough. But as we have seen, many
theorists were unwilling to let well enough alone and tried in one
way or anotlier to take into account the fact that not all behavior
is rational. Given their rationalistic premises, however, it was hard

for them to see that tliere could be any mode of departure from
rationality save tliat implied in the notion of “irrationality”: be-
havior which is not rational could only be a product of ignorance •

or error. But if the theory is committed to the notion that mans

only significant mode of cognitive orientation to tire situation is

through scientific knowledge, how then is such irrational behavior

to be explained? Ultimately, given their premises, only by abandon-
ing the subjective, action frame of reference altogether and look-
ing for nonsubjective conditions of action. And these, in turn,
finally boil down to the traditional notions of heredity and environ-
ment as conceptualized by tire biologists, or to the stimulus-re-
sponse notions of tire behaviorists. In either case, the end result
is not a general theory of action but some form of positivism.
/Pareto’s distinction between nonrational and irrational behavior, and
his analysis of nonrational behavior as motivated and iirtelligible,
seemed toward the solution of tlris problem.
to Parsons a giant step
Finally, Parsons saw a rather similar dilemma in the way the
utilitarians and economists dealt with tire problem of the goals of
action. The ortlrodox or pure theory position was clear enough: let
them be random and unexplained; take them simply as given data.
But altlrough this works well enough for various special types of
analytical theory, it will clearly not do for a 'general theoiy of ac-
tio^l And here, once again, many tlreorists were not willing to let
PABSONS’ SOaOLOGICAL THEORY • 13

well enough alone, but pressed on in an effort somehow to “ex-

plain” goals, or wants, or ends, and somehow to incorporate them
into tlieir system. But in doing so. Parsons argued, they usually got
into serious trouble. Either they attempted to explain goals ration-
which case tliey tended to lose their ideal, normative char-
ally, in

acter and became simply predictions of future states of affairs; or

somehow goals became reduced to parcels of instincts or drives, in
wliich case action became explainable without reference to the sub-
jective process or orientation. In either case, the theory thus reduces
to one form or otlier of radical positivism, the former to what Par-
sons labeled radical rationalistic positivism, the latter to radical
anti-intellectual positivism.

Positivism

By tliis point, perhaps. Parsons’ grounds for rejecting any form

of radical positivism should be apparent.£All forms of radical
positivism tend to view tlie world as a closed, determinate system,
in principle “explainable” tlirough a rigorous scientific analysis of
the intermeshings of cause and effect. Parsons would point to social
Darwinism jind modern behaviorism as examples of this
also to
point of viey^ Make it you Hke, as in recent ex-
as sophisticated as
tensions of behavior and learning theory; endow tire responding
organism vdth all kinds of capacities to learn, to acquire new drives
or to modify old ones, and the system stiff remains radically
positivistic.

^^^,sh any of these systems to tlieir limit. Parsons was incffned to

.argue, and tliey cease to be tlieories of “action” at all. For they
leave no room for such notions as mind, consciousness, values, ends,
or normative standards. Action is meaningful, he reasoned, only if
preceded by a functionally relevant process of orientation, and this
is possible only if some freedom exists to choose among alternative

courses. If you are to have any theorj^ of action at all, it must thus
necessarily make room for an element of voluntarism. Without this
cnicial element of freedom, denied in any closed, determinate sys-
tem, action becomes mere behavior; subjective and normative fac-
tors become mere epiphenomena of no causal or explanatory signif-
icance,-and all notions of morality and responsibility become mere
^ ^
mj^hs. {
14 Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

f On yet another ground Parsons took issue with the radical posi-
tivists. He argued tliat this sort of theory tended to lead to infinite
reductionism. In this view, groups are quickly resolved into their
component individuals, individual personalities are resolved into
complex organizations of dendrites, neurones, and synaptic mate-
rials, and tliese, in turn, to physico-chemical reactions. Say, if you

like, that the man is going to church; but don’t forget tliat this is

really only a very complex chain of physical reactions. Whereas

may be used for descriptive shortliand, ex-
liigher level concepts
planations must always be pushed to lower and lower levels. The
whole is never more than tlie sum of its parts.
Parsons could argue on theoretical grounds tliat tliis sort of radical
positivismwould not only preclude a science of social action; it
would also reduce aU forms of sociology, and psychology as well,
to literary exercises ofno explanatory relevance.! Just as it follows
that if you are to have any theory of action at all you must accept
a postulate of voluntarism, so it also follows that if you are to have
a causally relevant theory of sociology,/you must accept a postulate
of emergence. Parsons clearly accepted both postulates and made
them central to his own theory. By emergence, he simply means
that systems have properties which are not reducible or explainable
in terms of the parts which make them up, and that at various
levels of organizational complexity ever new orders of systems tend
to emergeT*
Perhaps we had better follow through a typical Parsonian ex-
ample. If you are going to talk about action, the smallest meaning-
ful unit is the unit act, complete with actor, situation, goals, norma-
tive standards, processes of orientation and choice, and finally, the
action which effort is expended and means are utilized to
itself, in
overcome obstacles and approach the goal. It is thus with the man
going to church. To be sure, in getting there he expends biological
energy, moves first one foot and then another, breathes and blinks;
but. Parsons insists, you will never get to the heart of the matter—
that is, why he is going to church instead of somewhere else—by
looking at these alleged "parts.” For a science of action, unit acts
in their totality must be taken as irreducible units.
But now we may come quickly to the Parsonian notion of the
emergence of new properties at higher levels by looking at his con-
parsons' sociological theory • 15

ception of action systems. In this connection, consider what is im-

plied in the notion of ‘"economic rationality.” Whereas a single act

may be technically rational with respect to its own single goal,

there no meaningful way in which the economic rationality of a

is

unit act may be determined without reference to a system consist-

ing of two or more goals of the same actor. For the minimum and
irreducible notion involved in the concept of “economizing” is that
of counting the costs of resources allocated to any one goal in terms
of their alternative uses for other goals. Hence, unless there are at
leasttwo goals or values, and unless these are articulated, however
crudely, into some single system, and unless there is an actor who
has both tliese goals as his own, and hence who must be presumed
to persist at least a little while through time with at least a modicum
of identity—unless all tliese conditions exist, thenit is simply mean-

ingless to talk about economic rationality at all. For economic

rationality appears as an irreducible property of action systems,
and applies to unit acts only as components of some such larger
system.
Now, if these theoretical grounds for Parsons’ election to talk
about the emergent properties of action systems are clear enough,
consider the empirical grounds. Very simply. Parsons argues, eco-
nomic may be empirically demonstrated to function as
rationality
at least one of die major determinants of economic behavior. If
this were not tlie case, tlien none of the deductively elaborated pre-
dictions of economic theory would have any empirical relevance
whatever; but they do. In spite of tlie many faults of economic
theorizing and in spite of the disturbances caused by the operation
of numerous nonrational factors, simply a fact that concrete
it is

market systems do reflect in rough approximation the operation of

economic laws premised upon the notion of individuals and firms
acting wth economic rationality.
In his later work. Parsons has used essentially tliis same form of
argument in demonstrating the emergent reality and causal rele-
vance of many other system properties, at the levels of personality
organization, social structure, and culture. In each instance, the
argument turns upon the recognition of properties which are not
analytically reducible to their component parts or elements, or
wliich behave in ways which cannot be inferred from a study of
16 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

the parts outside the system, and then of attempting to establish

the causal relevance of tlie phenomena thus identified. \Vhen tliis
is done, he reasons, it is no longer possible to regard such properties
as mere descriptive tags or as epiphenomena.
We have reviewed Parsons’ grounds for rejecting any radically
posithdstic position as an adequate or sufficient basis for the de-
velopment of sociological theory. Yet Parsons did not argue tliat,
therefore, everj'tliing which the positivists had done was either
wrong or irrelevant. Although he was impressed with the principle
of emergence and with the element of indeterminacy implied in the
voluntaristic postulate, he was also impressed with the fact that
emergent systems never wholly detach themselves from their more
primitive parts or elements. Even the best socialized human being
is still, among other things, a concrete physiological organism, and
presumably the new-born baby is only that. The stubborn facts of
heredity and environment are always there, as crucial parameters
for the human personality and the social system alike, and their
particular forms always use up many important degrees of freedom.
Emergent systems are thus never wholly free-floating. The prob-
lem, as Parsons saw it, was to construct a single theoretical system
which could handle botli types of factors and work out in detail
the points of articulation and interaction between tliem. He saw
the voluntaristic theory of action as enabling tlie theorist to do
just that.

Idealism

In view of the limitations which Parsons saw in any radically

positivistic approach to social behavior, we might expect that he
would have responded more favorably toward the conceptions of
human behavior formulated by tlie German idealists. Al tliough
there are of course important differences in the specific theories of
Kant and Hegel, or of Dilthey, Spengler, Sombart, or Tonnies, all
of these writers tended to share in common some notion that hu-
man action could not be adequately explained by the interactions
of causal laws of the sort which presumably detennined tlie flow of
events in the world of natural phenom'enar All were concerned ivitli
the uniquely “human” quality of social action, and seemed to agree
that this human quality somehow revolved about the elements of
PABSONS’ SOCIOLOGICAl. lUEORY * 17

freedom, spirit, values, or morality. They were inclined to regard

social structure not as a factual or causal order, but as a moral order,
or as a system somehow expressing and actualizing certain key
values embedded in the Geist or spirit of the people. Relationships
of parts within the whole were regarded as being governed not so
much by laws of causal interdependence as by norms of logico-
meaningful coherence.
Parsons did indeed find much of value in the formulations of the
idealists. Clearly they were attempting to deal with important
phenomena which were dismissed as simply irrelevant by the
positivists and whictuj}^^^ never been adequately conceptualized
by the utilitarians./He was convinced that any adequate general
theory of social action would have to find some way of taking ideas,
ideals, norms, values, and ends into account, not simply as given
facts, but exphcitly as ideal elements. Perhaps at lower levels of
behavior organization, for example in accounting for the movement
of moths toward a light or the reflexive blinking of tlie human eye,
mechanistic stimulus-response explanations might do. But at the
level ofhuman action in organized social systems, in Parsons’ view,
such explanations would never tell tlie whole sto^^ At this emergent
level, he was convinced, empirical evidence conclusively demon-
•strates an important causal role for ideas and ideals, and hence any

general theory must be able to handle them as independent

variables.
Yet Parsons also saw very serious difficulties in the way these
elements had been treated by the seemed to him that
idealists. It
most theorists in tliis tradition, from Hegel ^ht on through Ruth
Benedict, placed too strong a stress on the role of ideal elements,
at the expense of other relevant consideratiohspjt was perhaps too
simple: find tlie spirit or Geist of a particular culture, show how
certain patterns or themes run through it in logico-meaningful con-
figurations, and all, or nearly all, is tliereby explained.
must be explained and interpreted in terms of its
4lf,each society
own unique Geist or
spirit, then there could be no general tlieory
or general laws which could apply across sociefi^ Social science,
in this case, finds itself reduced to a kind of historicism, in which
all efforts are expended in the exliaustive description and interpreta-
tion of unique historical situations. And yet the whole point of a
18 • Edivard C. Devereux, Jr.

social theory, for Parsons, is that it should be a general, analytical

theory, permitting systematic comparisons of all societies and the
development of general laws about them.
The tendency of the ideahsts to maneuver their ideal elements
into a position of simple and sovereign primacy has still another un-
fortunate consequence. If all concrete social phenomena are re-
garded as direct emanations or expressions of the given value con-
figuration, the analysis is hkely to sidestep the difiBcult and crucially
important task of working out in detail the mechanisms tluough
which these ideal elements become articulated in concrete be-
havior. In particular, one is hkely to miss the dynamic significance
of situations in which there is not a neat, one-to-one fit between
value elements and on-going social systems. And yet it is precisely
these situations, as for example in the rise of new prophetic re-
ligious movements, which offer the most fruitful leads for an analy-
sis of the relationsliips between ideas and social structure.

also seemed to Parsons that in the idealistic tlieories, ideas

were treated as altogether too free, and hence essentially as free-
floating. Analysis of the important questions concerning where they
come from, how they develop and change, how they are learned
and transmitted, how tliey interact with each other and with die
more stubborn factual levels of social structure and of heredity
and environment thus tends to be by -passed.^ Parsons was too well
versed in Marx to accept the Hegelian notion drat cultural ideas
constituted wholly self-contained systems, developing only by the
dialectical unfoldings of their own inner logic or given direction by
some vague notions concerning an over-riding Weltgeist. And yet
he was too well versed in Pareto to dismiss such forces as the
pressure toward ediical or logical consistency as simply irrelevant.
<iMax Weber’s solution, in which the relationsliip of ideas and on-
going social structure was handled as one of mutual interdepend-
ence, seemed to Parsons a step in the right directio^'

« O

\ Ihave attempted to review what Parsons saw as assets and

liabilities in each of the tliree schools of thought with which he

concerned himself during his first decade of critical scholarsliip.

With respect to the utilitarians and orthodox, economists, he ad-
parsons’ sociological theory • 19

inired!tiieir analytical elegance and-%eir>action frame of reference,

but felt tlrat tbeir^^strong [Link] biases stood
in the way of the development of a general tlieory of action ade-
quate to handle the problems of order, of nonrational action, of
goals or wants, and of normative standards. With respect to the
positivists, he saw as fruitful their attempts to deal with the physi-

cal and physiological parameters of personality and human be-

havior, but rejected the elements of mechanistic deteiminism and
reductionism implicit in any radical generalization of tliis approach.
With respect to tlie idealists, he welcomed their analysis of cultural
configurations and of the role of ideas, values, and norms, but
argued that their treatment of tliese elements was too one-sided
and free-wheeling, and that the postulate of cultural relativdt)'' led
to a kind of historicism which blocked the development of general
theory.
Wliat Parsons saw as necessary was a single general theorj^ that
would incorporate tire permanently valid precipitate in each of
these approaches while at the same time overcoming the limita-
tions implicit in each jHe believed that tliere were clear signs of a
convergent movement toward such a theory in the works of cer-
tain recent representatives of each of tlrese approaches. In each
case, the end point of convergence seemed to be upon what Par-
sons elected to call a voluntaristic theory of action. Virtually all of
his subsequent work has been devoted to tlie systematic develop-
ment and elaboration of tliis tlieory.
Let me attempt to summarize the basic orientations which Par-
sons seems to have derived from his critical studies. (1) The ob-
jective is always to construct an adequate general theory: for
Parsons this means a tlreory which is elegant, analytical, systematic,
and complete in the sense that some place is found in the theory
for all of the types of factors concretely relevant to the operation
of tlie empirical system, including those which are treated as param-
eters or simply ignored in various types of special theories.
(2)
An adequate general sociological theory must be an action theory:
for Parsons tliis means that the central mechanism must always be
some notion of actors orienting themselves to situations, with refer-
ence to various sorts of goals, values, and normative standards, and
behaving accordingly. (3) Any meaningful action theory must be
20 Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

based on a voluntaristic postulate: for Parsons this means simply

that choice among alternative values and courses of action must
remain at least partially free. By implication, it seems to follow
that human action systems can never become empirically closed,
(4) In a voluntaristic theory of action, ideas, ideals, goals, and
normative standards must be treated as causally relevant variables,
and not as epiphenomena. These ideal elements are regarded as
mutually interdependent empirically with the various nonideal
elements in tire empirical world, but this interdependence never
uses up all of the degrees of freedom: the content of the ideal
variables is never v^holly determined by the pressures of nonideal
forces and constraints. (5) Sociological theory must take into ac-
count the principle of emergence: for Parsons this means that at
various levels of organizational complexity, systems emerge which
have properties which cannot be inferred from or ejqrlained in
terms of the operation of their component parts or elements, and
that these emergent properties must be treated as causally relevant
variables in the theory. By implication, at each emergent level cer-
tain new degrees of freedom are created. (6) Systems and their
emergent properties never become wholly detached from tlreir own
component parts; important areas of mutual interaction and em-
pirical interdependency function to limit degrees of freedom on
both sides. For Parsons, this clearly implies not only tliat emergent
properties are limited, though not deteimined, by the nature of
the system from which they emerge, but also tliat tire nature of the
parts may themselves be significantly altered, though not without
limit, by the operation of the emergent variables.
These, to this reviewer, seem to be the basic orientations which
Parsons carried forward from his critical review of the hteratiue,
and which have served as guiding principles in his own efforts at
theory construction.

THE FRAME OF REFERENCE OF ACTION AND INTERACTION

\Parsonian theory,- as we have observed, is based upon an ac-

tion frame of reference. Where others talk of organism and environ-
ment, Parsons talks of actor and situation. Wliere others talk of be-
parsons’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY * 21

liavior or response,Parsons talks of action. All action, to be sure, is

behavior; but not all behavior is actioii^If the flight of a moth
toward a candle is conceived simply as a mechanistic response of its
organism to the stimulus of light, tliere is behavior but not action.
On the other hand, if we were to conceive of some subjective proc-
ess of orientation as an essential link in the chain ... as if tlxe moth,
for example, were to reason wth itself: “What a pretty light! I
would like to be closer to it. I wll fly there as directly and quickly
as possible . . .
,” then we
should be dealing with action. Typically,
of course, we do not feel it necessary to make such imputations
witli respect to most of the behavior of lower organisms, nor indeed
to certain areas of human beha\dor. Parsonian theory is simply not
upon tlie prem-
interested in such behavior. His entire theory rests
broad areas of human conduct which do in fact
ise that tliere are
properly qualify as action, and that tliese are the lands of be-
haviors which most legitimately concern the sociologist. The mini-
mum frame of reference for talking about action must therefore
include, besides the actor and the situation, some explicit reference
to subjective processes or orientation, conceived as causally relevant
interi^ening mechanisms and not as epiphenomena, and to ex-
plicitly formulated notions of ends or goals and of normative
standards, conceived as ideal elements which function to structure
th^ actor’s orientation to situations.
Parsonian theory,
tlie actor is taken as an analytical point of

reference somewhat akin to the ego of Freudian psychology: it is

the executive officer which perceives, evaluates, and organizes ex-
perience and controls the approaches to motilit^ \^fliile concrete
actors typically dwell in concrete organisms, it is essential to Par-
sonian analysis that the actor’s own body, wth its various needs
and capacities, may be defined by
actor as a part of its situa-
tlie
tion. The relationship of organic needs to die goals of action is left
open to empiricar investigation.
^he situation, in action theor)^/-is not simply the sum of sensory
stimuli impinging upon tlie actor at a given moment, but rather
something which is both more and less than tliis.^ssentially it con-
sists of whatever is meaningfully organized in
tlie actor’s orienta-
tion. In defining his situation, the actor may
take into account cer-
tain objects in liis immediate surroundings—whether physical,
22 Edward . C. Devereux, Jr.

social, cultural, or symbolic—while dismissing others as irrelevant)

But he may also include in liis situation a variety of objects not
physically present at the moment—for example, absent persons or
predicted future events. It follows tliat the Parsonian situation
cannot be defined independently of the actor’s orientation toward
[Link] is not, however, a purely free-floating figment of the actor’s
imagination: for his orientations clearly make reference to objects
outside himself and beyond his control. He may, of course, misde-
fine the situation; but if he goes too far wrong, reahty will pre-
sumably find ways to strike back at him. He is thus under some
pressure to keep his orientations in some adjustment to the facts
of the external world.
As we have seen, the subjective process of orientation plays a
central role in action theory. In this complex process of defining
the situation, as Parsons has analyzed it, the actor constructs a
cognitive map of tlie situation and appraises or evaluates it in

terms of its relevance to his various goals, interests, and normative

standards. In tliis process, the situation is structured by the actor
into some meaningful which its various elements
configuration, in
are seen as things to be desired or to
be avoided, as obstacles to be
overcome, as conditions to be accepted, or as potential means to be
utilized. The actor must predict how the situation may be expected

to develop and consider whether, in terms of Iris own goals and

values, some active intervention is necessary or feasible; he must
consider alternative courses of possible action, and predict and
evaluate tlieir consequences in terms of his various goals and
normative standards.
Although tliis most explicit in the special case of
process is

rational action directed toward an empirical end. Parsons maintains

tliat the same schema is also useful for analyzing various sorts of

nonrational action as well—for example, action directed toward

some nonempirical goal such as salvation, or activity which is
primarily expressive of some vague value-attitude. Even though
many steps in the full process of orientation may be short-circuited,
even tliough the resultant orientation may be distorted by the press
of unconscious factors or badly out-of-Hne with reality, if there is
still some recognizable “definition, of the situation” and if action
PAKSONS’ SOaOLOGICAL THEORY • 23

occurs as if premised upon it, tlie action frame of reference is held

to be appropriate for its analysis.

Goals or ends, in the Parsonian schema, are simply the actor s

pictures of future states of affairs regarded as desirable and wortli
striving toward, or in the negative case, as undesirable and worth
guarding against. They may be immediate or remote, highly specific
or vague and general, objective, subjective, or even transcendental.
Ice cream sodas, college degrees, success, happiness, or salvation
may all be treated as goals to the extent that the actor has cathexis
toward them.
Typically, of course, the actor has many different goals, and in
order to allocate time and resources among them he will have to
have various standards for evaluating their relative importance:
work before pleasure, or poetry before pickles. And typically, more-
over, any given course of action wll have implications for many
different goals or values of tlie same actor, a fact which requires
the actor to apply a variety of normative standards to his contem-
plated plan of action. In appraising an action in terms of the norms
of technical effectiveness, of economic eflSciency, of moral worth,
or of aesthetic appropriateness, the actor in effect is bringing it into
alignment with his total system of values.
In principle, one might employ the action schema for the analysis
of unit acts, but Parsons is not much interested in this. For him,
the important point is that practically all action occurs in systems.
If we argue that actors have many different needs, goals,
t)'pically
and values, and tliat unit acta typically have consequences for many
of these, we are involved at once with the systemic nature of ac-
tion. The issue of pickles versus poetry is meaningful only if these
be thought of as values of the same actor, who has some identity
tluough time and v'ho tlius must struggle to put each in proper
perspective in relation to some system of values. Situations
total
also t)'pically persist in time or have a recurrent character, so tliat
the actor may carr)'- foiAvard orientations learned in the past to
help define present situations. As relationships between the actor
and certain recurrent aspects of his
situation thus become stabilized,
action itself develops a recurrent character and we are dealing
with an action system. In time, moreover, the various action sys-
tems of a particular actor become themselves more or less organized
24 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr,

into a single, more complex system, constituting in effect what

W. I. Thomas would call tlie individual’s life organization. As we
shall see, tliis total action system of a particular actor occupies a
central position in tlie Parsonian conception of personality. To
visuahze such a system in its we
might picture the
simplest form,
patterned and recurrent sets of activities carried out by Robinson
Crusoe after he had finally worked out a way of coming to terms
with his island environment, but before Friday had made his ap-
pearance.
In principle, one might take the goals and normative standards
employed by a particular actor simply as given data. In a general
theory of action, however, one must ask where they come from and
what determines their particular content. In keeping with liis
voluntaristic postulate. Parsons argues that they are at least in part
free creations of the individual actor: without this degree of free-
dom, they would lose their postulated ideal character and would
have no relevance as independent variables. It does not follow,
however, tliat tlie actor is free to fashion liis goals and values out
of whole cloth. For in shaping them, Parsons argues, he is under
some constraint to deal, on the one hand, with his own biological
and psychological needs, and on the other, ivith the normative
systems of his sociocultural environment.
With respect to tlie former. Parsons is much concerned with the
ways in which various needs of the organism become articulated
with appropriate patterns of activity which bring them into rela-
tionships with goal objects suitable for their satisfaction. Thus the
hunger of the infant develops into the goal of food seeking and is
quickly embedded into an action system wliich must take into ac-
count other values and conditions as well, such as table manners or
relations with motlier. Where a need has become finked -to a suita-
ble goal-object and with a disposition to carry out certain patterned
activities with respect to it. Parsons refers to emergent need-dis-
positions. It is central to Parsons’ tliinldng that tliese need-disposi-
tions, which function to bring needs into focus as situation-oriented
goals, involve an element of learning and that they are modifiable.
Moreover, while there may in fact be some irreducible fist of or-
ganically given needs, it appears that many others are acquired as
derivatives of social experience—for example, the needs for security
parsons' SOaOLOGICAL THEORY • 25

or affection. Although tlie actor is under strong pressures to engage

in activities appropriate to his own
needs, in setting his goal-sys-
tem he still has some freedom to push them around a bit: the
martyr may choose to starve himself, the celibate to forego sex, ,

With rCvSpect to the second source of constraint, Parsons argues

tliat individual actors are under some pressure to develop goals

and standards which are in accord wth those of the sociocultural

system in which they live, Altliough Robinson Crusoe may have had
a relatively free hand in developing his own life-organization,
clearly tlie child born into an on-going society does not. The situa-
tion of the child is and organized for liim by his parents,
stablized
and he is continually presented wth ready-made definitions which
he is under some constraint to accept as his own. Ideally, the end-
product of socialization is an individual who has successfully in-
ternalized tlie culture goals and normative standards of his society
and who has worked out a pattern of activities which serves in-
dividual and societal values simultaneously. It is central to Parsons'
thinking, however, that this process of socialization is never really
complete, and that what is achieved is not achieved widiout cost:
tliere always remains some lack of congi*uence between individual
and societal goals. Though obviously influenced both by psycho-
logical and cultural pressures, individual goals are not wholly de-
termined by either or by both togedier.
In principle, the action schema we have described could apply
to a solitary actor on a desert island. In fact,, most human action,
and which is of
especially tliat interest to sociologists, occurs in
society and has other persons as significant objects in the situation
of the actor. In tins case, the action frame of reference broadens to
become one of interaction.
The simplest case is that of the dyad: ego has alter as a signif-
icant object in Ins situation and alter has ego as an object in his
own^ In acting with respect to alter, ego must predict how he will
respond; in effect, his action is designed to produce a certain de-
sired reaction in alter. And of course alter is presumably doing die
same with respect to ego. Interaction thus has the char-
sort of thing
Parsons has called double contingency. If the two
acteristic wliich
are not well acquainted, we may expect that tliere will be many
wong predictions at first, and many communication failures. But
26 r Edward C. Deoereux, Jr.

after a wliile, Parsons observes, they may get to be rather good at

[Link] actions with respect to one another tend to become pat-
terned and stabilized: when interacting, ego comes to play a specific
and expects alter to play a specific
sort of role in relation to alter
some such manner, a child and
sort of role in relation to himself. In
his mother learn what to expect of one another and we have a
miniature two-role social system, in which each role is com-
plementaiy to the other, 'y G'A-S ^'~7
Presumably, if the relationship endm-es, each member of the sys-
tem derives certain satisfactions and meets certain needs through
his participation in it: to tliis extent, each develops a vested inter-
est in the continuity and stability of the relationsliip. Where this is
true, alters conformity to role expectations will come to have re-
ward value for ego, and wll quickly be countered
his deviations
wnth negative sanctions of some sort. And alter, of course, would do
the same for ego. The effect of this mutual sanctioning is to create
a mechanism which operates to preserve the equilibrium of the
miniature social system: minor disturbances set forces in motion
which function to restore the status quo ante. In the course of time,
moreover, the dyad is likely to develop its own private culture,
consisting of shared bits of knowledge, techniques, symbols Math
special shared meanings, tools and other significant objects, norma-
tive standards and even goals. Culture, in this sense, tlius represents
the shared property of the members of the social system; the items
which comprise it are all potentially teachable or transferable to
some new member of the system.
In some such manner as tliis, Parsonian tlieory moves from an
action frame of reference to one of interaction and thence to the
concepts of social system and culture. The primitive, spontaneously
developing social system we have pictured contains all the prop-
erties which Parsons holds to apply more generally to any social
system: two or more actors occupying differentiated statuses or
positions and performing differentiated roles, some organized pat-
tern governing tlie relationships of the members and describing
their rights and obligations with respect to one another, and some
set of common norms or values, together with various types of
shared cultural. objects and symbols. Parsons postulates of social
systems tliat tliey are boundar^'-maintainine, in the sense that there
parsons' sociological theory • 27

tends to be a tighter, more integrated organization among the com-

ponents of the system, while it is operating as such, than there is
between these components and elements outside tlie system. And,
as we have seen, he also postulates an equilibrium tendency: in-
deed, unless the system has built-in mechanisms wliich function to
hold it in some sort of steady state over a period of time, it is hardly
worth designating as a system at all. The nature and extent of
equilibrium in any particular system, however, are left open for
empirical investigation. The defining properties of social systems
are tlius conceived as differentiation, organization, boundary main-
tenance, and equilibrium tendency.
We have indicated how Parsons conceives social systems to de-
velop spontaneously whenever two or more actors come into some
stabilized, patterned mode of interaction. It was presumably thus
with Crusoe and Friday; the process may also be observed in the
sorts of ad hoc experimental groups analyzed by R. F. Bales and
his associates,* In on-going societies, however, virtually all inter-
active systems develop within the matrix of an already established
sociocultural system which is not altogether silent about the defini-
tions of roles, normative standards, and system-goals. Wlien two
people marry, tliey form a new family, but they do not thereby
invent the institution of the family. Both partners bring to the new
relationship a host of notions about the roles which each should
play, and may punish behavior perceived as deviant from tliese
expectations. The couple, moreover, experiences sanctioning pres-
sure from the surrounding community to bring it into some con-
formity TOth societal expectations.
In tlie end, of course, each couple has to work out its own final
set of mutual adjustments, in which the socially prescribed roles
are modified and embellished in various ways. In effect, every con-
crete role relationship thus involves an institutional nexus and a
particular nexus, and it is useful for analytical purposes to keep these
two components separate. Parsons uses the term social role to refer
to the institutionally defined and regulated component of roles. Be-

* Syy F- Bales, "The Equilibrium Problem in Small Groups,” and

Philip E. Slater, “Role Differentiation in Small Groups," reprinted in
A. Paul Hare, et al., eds.. Small Groups; Studies in Social Interaction
(New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1955), pp. 424-456 and 498-515.
28 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

cause of their institutionalized character, it follows tliat social roles

may be analyzed independently of specific knowledge about any

particular incumbents; they tend, moreover, to have a normative
character and to be generalized across many concrete social sys-
tems witliin a given society. ^Vllen Parsons talks about the middle-
class family or the doctor-patient relationship, he is usually deal-
ing with these institutionalized components of roles.
In yet another way concrete social systems are seen as embedded
in a larger social matrix: small systems are usually components of
larger ones, which in turn are components of still larger ones. Thus
the mother-child dyad is a sub-system within the family, and tlie
shipping room a sub-system within the factory. Wlien he is dealing
with more complex systems. Parsons treats as components not in-
dividuals but various sub-systems wliich are now regarded, ana-
lytically, as the actors. Thus in tlie sort of input-output analysis he
has been pursuing in recent publications, each department in a
business firm would be treated as if it were a single actor, perform-
ing certain roles in relation to other departments, receiving certain
inputs and delivering certain outputs. At this level of analysis. Par-
sons reasons, what goes on within a need not
particular sub-system
concern us directly: only the product matters. Incidentally, he fol-
lows the same principle when dealing with social systems in which
the actors are concrete persons: when focusing upon the social
system, talk about roles and relationships, not about processes in-
ternal to tlie personahties involved.
Finally, we
should observe that, just as tlie roles in a newly
formed system tend to be drawn from and molded by the
social
institutional system of the surrounding society, so also the culture
of the social system tends to draw upon or incorporate various ele-
ments in the broader culture surrounding it. Perhaps Crusoe and
Friday had a relatively free hand in this respect, but it was probably
also rather tough going to hammer out from scratch an appropriate
set of shared symbols, values, meanings, and so on. The existence
within an on-going society of a large repertory of standardized
cultural objects and symbols probably functions not only to facili-
tate the development of social systems but also to limit variation
among them.
parsons’ SOCIOLOGICAI. THEORY * 29

INTERRELATIONSHIPS OF ORGANISM, PERSONALITY,

CULTURE, AND SOCIAL SYSTEMS

have attempted to sketch in rough first approximation how

I
Parsonian tlreory builds upon an action and interaction frame of
reference to generate certain basic notions regarding social sys-
tems, personality, and culture. The reader will have observed that
it is difficult to say very much
about any one of these concepts
wtliout becoming involved witli the others as well. The reason for
tins is tliat, in Parsons’ view, these concepts refer to systeins which,
while analytically separable, nevertheless empirically interpene-
trateone another. These different orders of analytical systems are
regarded as jointly participating in and partly determining process
in thesame concrete empirical action systems.
How Parsons conceives of the phenomenon of interpenetration
may be illustrated in the way he elects to handle the ancient body-
mind problem.® Concrete human personalities always reside in con-
crete organisms, but to Parsons tins does not imply that personality
organization and process are tlrerefore somehow reducible to physio-
logical structure and process, and that the laws worked out at this
organic level need only be applied to the next higher level to arrive
at a complete explanation. It merely means that, because the two
orders of systems are empirically interpenetrating, there must be
identifiable physiological mechanisms for all the processes operative
at tire psychological level.
Why then must we deal with two analytical systems instead of
one concrete one? seems to argue, as a matter of
Partly, Parsons
analytical convenience and efficiency; you can’t talk about every-
thing at once, and you will make more progress by focusing on one
aspect at a time. His more fundamental answer is; each order of
system also represents in part an emergent empirical system with
its own unique organization, characterized by a selective inclusion

of elements dravm from lower-order systems and by a distinctive

* Approach to Psychological Theory in Terms of the Theor}' of

AcUon,” in Sigmund Koch, ed., Fsijchologtj: A Study of a Science
(New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959), Vol. 3, pp. 647-651.
30 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

pattern which it imposes on the relationships of the selected com-

ponents. Thus the personality system, for Parsons, is distinctly a
psychological and not a biological system; at its own level, it has
its ownsystem problems—relative to such functional exigencies as
drive reduction, maintenance of repressions, integration, and so on
—its own boundaries and boundary maintenance problems, and its
ovTx equihbrium tendencies.
By conceptualizing organism and personahty as two analytically
separate orders of systems, partially interpenetrating but partially
also independent. Parsons seeks to gain a point of leverage for
analyzing the empirical relationships between them. Tliis is how
he conceives the outputs of each system with respect to the other.
The personality is pictured as receiving, as outputs from the organic
system, such facilities as motivational energy, perceptual capacity,
performance or response capacity, and a sort of integrative facility
rooted in tlie mechanisms of learning. In return, the personality
generates outputs Avith respect to the organic system in die form of
“motive force,” conceived as a sort of feedback process in which
motivational energy contiibuted by the organic system is controlled
by tlie psychological system and brought to bear upon instrumental
processes; performance potentials are tliereby greatly increased.
More specifically. Parsons conceives of tlie personality system as
contributing a directional component and an attitudinal set which
function to focus perception and guide goal-seeking activities. The
attitudinal set creates an expectation that, as psychological needs
are met, organic interests will also be served. In this connection,
one might think of the complex processes implied in the pattern of

deferred gratification involved in long-range goal-seeking activity.

Parsons conceives of the interrelationships of personality sys-

tems, social systems, and cultural systems along essentially similar
lines. Each is regarded as an analytically separate order of systems,
partially independent, but partially interpenetrating the others, in
such a way that all three participate jointly in the determination
of concrete action systems. Although for certain analytical purposes
we may focus on one order of system at a time, a general theory of
action will necessarily involve systematic reference to all three.

Consider, in this connection, the Parsonian conception of culture.

To Parsons, it makes sense to drink of cultmral phenoinena as form-
parsons’ sociological theory • 31

ing systems in their o^vn right, with their owm laws of internal
organization and development. Thus the cultural scientist may
legitimately devote his attention to tlie study of linguistic systems,
or of otliical or religious systems, or of philosophical, scientific, or
legal systems, without becoming much involved with sociological
or social-psychological considerations. Many of the laws of lin-
guistic development, for example, hold almost whoUy independ-
ently of cultural or sociological contexts. Ethical systems move as
if driven by a strain toward consistency. Therefore, Parsons rea-
sons, cultural systems have emergent system properties of their
ow'n, and enjoy at least some measure of autonomy in tlieir develop-
ment.
But tliis does not mean, for Parsons, that cultural systems ever
become wiiolly detached or free-floating, as in the idealist view.
Lock them up in libraries or museums and nothing much happens.
In his most recent discussions of this problem. Parsons has moved
from a view of cultural systems as relatively detached object-sym-
bol-meaning configurations, toward a view' which holds them to be
special sorts of action systems, organized about tlie specific func-
tional exigency of maintaining symbol-meaning systems.®
Clearly, Parsons argues, there is ample evidence of mutual
empirical interdependencies between culture on die one hand and
personalit}' and social systems on the other. Much of the content
and direction of movement in cultural systems reflects functional
problems arising at die level of these low’er order systems; con-
sider, for example, the projective character of some cultural sys-
tems, as evidenced in the w'orks of Kardiner and Mfliiting. Marx’s
analysis of “ideologies” and Pareto’s w'ork on “derivations” also point
toways in w'hich cultural systems reflect problems of social structure.
As evidence that culture also reacts back upon the social system.
Parsons would point to Max Weber’s analysis of die consequences of
the Protestant ediic for the development of capitalism,
Widv respect to interpenetration. Parsons argues that all on-going

* In tills connection see A. L. Kroeber

and T. Parsons, "The Con-
cepts of Culture and Social System,” American Sociological Review,
XXIII (October 1958), pp. 582-583, and Parsons’ reply to comments
of KH. Ogles and M. ]. Levy' on this paper, in "Culture and Social
Systems: An Exchange,’ ibid., XX W
(April 1959), pp. 248-250.
32 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

social systems must have a culture, in tlie sense of shared norms,

meanings, symbols, and objects, and that these are usually drawn
from and related to those in the parent culture. Still more impres-
sive, in Parsons’ view, is in the interpenetrating relationsliip of
institutionalization at the cultural level and internalization at the
personality level. Whereas it may appear to n particular unacciil-
turated individual that cultural norms are simply external and
constraining aspects of the situation. Parsons argues that this could
hardly be generalized for all members of a society. Taking a lead
from Durkheim, he reasons that the moral force of institutionalized
norais depends, in the final analysis, upon the internalized con-
science of a core of culture bearers who mobilize in their behalf
the powerful mechanisms of the guilty conscience and righteous
indignation.
But let us return for tlie moment to the level of personahty. We
have already indicated how Parsons pictures the personality system
as an emergent level of psychological organization, standing in a
relationship of empirical interdependency and also of interpene-
tration with tlie biological organism in which it is housed, but yet
enjoying also an element of autonomy and having to face system
problems at its own level. On the other side. Parsons views the
personality as equally involved in relationships of interdependency
and intei-penetration with social and cultural systems. Needs are
conceived as developing into need-dispositions and brought into
focus as goals; and these in turn come into relationship with sys-
tems of activity carried out in recurrent, meaningfully structured
situations. Virtually all of these. Parsons observes, are social in
character and incorporate culturally standardized definitions. In
the theory of action, as noted before, actor and situation are always
taken togetlier as forming a single reference system. It follows that
personality, which Parsons defines as the total action system of a
single living organism, incorporates in itself a complex set of object-
relations, Since most of these are sociocultural in character. Parsons
finds it practically impossible to conceive of tlie adult human per-
sonality in other than social terms.
But even though the stamp of society is everywhere upon it.

Parsons does not regard the personality simply as a social product,

as simply the sum and organization of the roles any particular
PABSONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY • 33

individual has learned to play. For in spite of its extensive empirical

interdependencies and interpenetrations both with sociocultural and
vdth biological systems, Parsons maintains that personality con-
stitutes an important level of system organization in its own right,
and hence can never be reduced to or fully explained by the other
systems to which it relates. There remains at least some small area
of autonomy or freedom, perhaps now in the form of the divine
spark.
Much argument with respect to social systems
of the Parsonian
has already been what has been said before. It is clear
implied in
that the same concrete activities which are carried out by indi-
vidual personalities appear again as. performances in the social
system frame of reference. Yet it is central to Parsonian theory that
social systems, although involved in extensive relationships of
empirical interdependence and interpenetration botli with person-
ality systems and \vitli cultural systems, also represent emergent
entities with their own system problems, boundaries, and equihb-
rium tendencies.

ORDER, INTEGRATION, AND THE PROBLEM OF EQUILIBRIUM

The problems and equilibrium have al-

of order, integration,
ways played a central role in Parsons’ thinking. Indeed, some critics
have charged that an excessive concern with these problems has
tended to give liis tlieoretical system a static, conservative bias. Par-
sons does indeed postulate an equihbrium-seeking tendency as a
property of systems of any sort, partly as a generalization from experi-
ence, but more partieularly for heuristic purposes. To this reviewer,
it appears that Parsons’ concern with equilibrium does not reflect
the view tliat everytliing is automatically integrated and adjusted

.
to everything else in this best of all possible worlds. It reflects
instead tlie view that society represents a veritable powder keg
of conflicting forces, pusliing and. hauling in all ways at once. That
any sort of equilibrium-is achieved at all, as it evidently, is in most
societies most of tlie time, tlius represents for Parsons something
botli of miracle and challenge. Far from taking societal equihbrium
34 • Edward C. Deoereux, ]r.

for granted, he sees it as a central problem demanding detailed

analysis and explanation.
As Parsons views it, society is not a neatly articulated “organic
system” in full control of its ov\m internal processes and mechanisms.
It consists instead of a loosely federated congeries of systems and
sub-systems of many different sorts, each, as we have seen, with
its own internal system problems and equilibrium tendencies, and
each witli its own crucial degrees of freedom. Yet these are con-
ceived as standing in relationships of interdependence and inter-
penetration with one another. The result is that almost any concrete
pattern of actions has consequences for many different sorts of
system-referents; but no particular course of activity, Parsons has
argued, can serve simultaneously and with maximmn effectiveness
all the needs of all the systems upon which it impinges. And needs
which remain unmet for even a while become sources of strain
and tension, with potentiall)' disruptive consequences.
Consider in this connection the complex set of functional prob-
lems with which any social system must somehow come to terms if
it is to establish and maintain some equilibrium position. First, the

social system cannot be radically incompatible with the needs,

motives, and capacities of the human agents who must play its
various roles. Some social systems have as their primai}' goal the
seiA'icing of the needs of individual participants, but many others
do not. For example, the U.S. Nav}'^ is not organized primarily as
a device for providing gratifications for the officers and sailors. Yet
somehow it must cope with its human materials. As biological
systems, the men must be fed and clothed and protected from
extremes of fatigue or inclement weather. As psychological systems,
they must be provided sufficient gratifications in terms of their o%vn
personal needs and goals to check tendencies toward deviance and
to motivate adequate role performances. The Navy is not a closed
society, and hence it must contrive to recruit its personnel from the
broader society with an eye to required capacities and skills. And
since these are not found ready-made, it must also provide suitable
devices for training and socialization. Because it does not possess
its personnel in any inclusive sense, moreover, it must also come

to terms wth the otlier role-commitments of its actors, who are

simultaneously members of families, communities, political parties.
PABSONS' SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY • 35

and so on, all \vith tlieir o\vn and sometimes conflicting claims upon
time and loyalties.

Now none of these functional problems, relating to what Parsons

sometimes calls the “motivational problem of order,” will solve
tliemselves automatically. ever take for granted, Par-
One cannot
sons argues, that the motives, goals, capacities, and values of
individual actors will automatically move them toward the sorts
of adequate role performances necessary for the functioning of
this or that particular social system. It is more nearly correct to
assume the opposite—that tendencies toward deviance or alienation
are somehow endemic, rooted as it were in the sheer cussedness
and variability of human nature. Human beings are born in society
but not of it. With this as liis working postulate. Parsons is guided
to analyze in detail not only the sources of deviance and strain but
more particularly the mechanisms of social control and socialization
by which a social system manages to hold deviance in check and
enlist the motivations of its participants. '

A second order of functional problems arises from the relation-

sliips of any particular social system to its parent culture. Parsons

argues that any particular social system will tend to develop a

set of normative patterns which are somehow relevant for its own
particular functions. Those which are established to govern rela-
tionships in tlie navy are presumably relevant for the coordination
of activities in a fighting organization, but they wall be of a rather
different sort from those which are supposed to apply in the family
or in a business concern. Yet all of tliese differentiated social sys-
tems coexist in the same concrete society. For Parsons tliis situation
represents anotlier potential tlueat to the equilibrium position of
any particular social system and also of society as a whole.
If there are differing and at some points logically conflicting
normative patterhs applicable to behavior in different areas of tlie ,

society, in principle careful scheduling and contextual segregation

might serve to handle potentially disruptive consequences: a time
and place for everytliing, and everything in its time and place.
Such mechanisms do indeed help to accommodate potentially con-
flicting substructures to
one another. Parsons reasons, but by them-
selves they are never quite suflScient. For one thing, concrete
*

individuals always participate as role players in many

different
36 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

relational systems, and the equilibrium and integrity of the per-

sonality is threatened by too gross and rapid shifts in normative
contexts. It is not just a matter of changing hats to move from
one role to another, particularly if the normative patterns have
become internalized as integral components of personality. For
another tiling, contexts are never completely segregated; there are
alvs'ays ambiguous situations where one is unsure which pattern
of norms should apply. And besides, there is what Parsons calls
the strain toward consistency at the level of cultural systems them-
selves. No ethic worth its salt will long remain a hodgepodge of
particularistic rules, each tailored to its own special context: it
ivill respond to pressures toward codification and generalization.

But in doing so, while it may appeal more forcefully to the loyalty
and support of its adherents, it may also overstep its own bounds
and augment potentialities of conflict with alternative systems in
tlie same society. In eflFect, Parsons argues, man s need for at least

the appearance of normative consistency creates problems which,

at a strictly operative, functional level, might not need to be faced
at all. But man puts them there, and so face them he must.
What happens, as Parsons sees it, is sometliing like this. Every
society tends to establish at least one core of common ultimate
values which serves an important unifying function. But this core
value system, however splendid it may seem in principle, or on
Sunday mornings and the Fourth of July, can never be fully opera-
tive at all concrete levels of social structure. Its norms are always
a bit too vague and general to apply to all the concrete situations
which need to be defined on Tuesday afternoons. And so each
sub-system and situational context tends to develop its own special
normative patterns. Parsons argues that because of the heterogeneity
of functions which need to be served in a differentiated society,
it is manifestly impossible for the norms of all of these sub-systems
to form a single, logically coherent and consistent system. Yet
neither can they afford to be flagrantly incompatible.
At the level of any particular sub-system, there is thus the addi-
tional imperative of normative compatibility. The norms which
regulate relations in the U.S. Navy cannot be merely those appro-
priate for the instrumental functions of a military organization.
They must yield at points to take into account the fact that this
PABSONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY * 37

particular navy is called into being to serve a free, individualistic,

nonauthoritarian, and democratic society. A
somewhat difierent
set of norms might develop in a military organization serving a
totalitarian society.
But the potentiality of conflict is still present. Parsons argues,
and hence there is a need for a variety of mechanisms which wall
serve the function of accommodation: scheduling, symbolic and
contextual segregation, rationalization, and otlier such devices
serve to mask tlie points of conflict, insulate conflicting structures
from head-on contact and provide at an appearance of com-
least
patibility. The integration of a society wliich depends too much

on such devices, however, is ewdently somewhat precarious.

From tlie point of view of society as a whole, there is yet another
problem. As Parsons sees it, certain core institutional structures
develop to serve the major functional needs of the society, while
maintaining at least a show of normative compatibility. But there
are always certain residual needs which cannot be met legitimately
wtliout a direct affront to the dominant value systems. Such needs
may reflect instinctive biological or psychological needs which
have somehow got crowded out of recognition. More likely, they
represent derivitives of strains in the dominant social structure itself,
and their precipitates in personality. Yet if tliese needs remain
unserved, strains will build up and perhaps discharge in socially
disruptive channels. As if to forestall tliis dysfunctional outcome,
society is thus forced to develop a set of adaptive structures which
explicitly institutionalize suh rosa patterns of behavior which
are deviant in terms of the dominant value system. Parsons would
point to prostitution and gambling as examples of institutionalized
dewant patterns. Wliile such adaptive institutions may indeed solve
some problems by providing channels of relatively safe release for
potentially disruptive energies, it is clear that they also raise still
others with respect to the over-all integration and stability of society.
Finally, tliere are many tricl<y problems of integration, and hence
potential sources and strain, in tlie relationships of
of conflict
various sub-systems within a given society to one another. Family
institutionsand economic institutions in our society serve ratlier
But not just any type of family and any type of
different functions.
economic system can coexist in the same empirical society. Parsons
38 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr,

has argued tliat a familistic system such as that of classical China

would be drastically dysfunctional in an industrial, capitalistic
society such as our own. In effect, commitments made in one area
of the social structure restrict alternatives in others. In addition to
tire universal imperatives which must somehow be met by all

societies, there are structural imperatives peculiar to each specific

type of society, imperatives relevant to the structural compatibihiy
and mutual articulation of various sub-systems in the same society
with one another.
But perhaps that is sufficient toshow why Parsons regards societal
integration and equilibrium, not as sometliing to be taken for
granted, but rather as something posing a major challenge for the
pursue tliis problem furtlier a bit
social analyst. I shall later on.
But first, I must consider how Parsonian theory deals vvith the
problem of structural differentiation.

FRAMEWORK FOR STRUCTURAL ANALYSIS:

THE PATTERN VARIABLES

We been dealing so far witli what are essentially uni-

liave
versals in Parsonian theory. We have talked about certain generic
properties of action and interaction, and of personality, social, and
cultural systems as Parsons conceives them; and we have said a bit
about the kinds of relationships he sees among them. In effect,
we have established a frame of reference ratlrer tlian a substantive
theory. We have the beginnings of a conceptual scheme, but no
variables. The frame of reference and the conceptual scheme, how-
ever, should provide a useful guide for pointing out the kinds of
phenomena for which suitable variables will need to be developed.
The U.S, Navy and the Jones family are both examples of social
systems, and what has been said so far of social systems will apply
equally to both. But we may suspect that the differences between
these systems are quite as important as the similarities, and if we
are to make any progress in developing a useful substantive theory,
we had better learn to talk about these too. But how? How does
one go about comparing the relationships between captain and
PAESONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEOBY * 39

crew with between husband and wfe? How does the doctor-
tliose

patient relationship compare with that of salesman-customer?

In seeking appropriate variables for his theoretical system, Par-
sons was guided by three principal criteria. First, the variables
should be completely general and permit comparisons between
groups of any sort whatever and across cultures. The special vocab-
ularies which have been developed for describing particular kinds
of social systems, for example, family systems or economic systems,
will not do. Indeed, such vocabularies have often functioned as
blinders to impede the development of general theory: although
the family is undoubtedly a small group, very few family sociolo-
gists have made any systematic effort to draw upon the rich funds
of theory and research developed by smaU-group sociologists.
Second, the variables should be relevant for the action frame of
reference. For Parsons, this means that when applied to particular
actors tliey should yield a classification of types of orientations,
when applied to social systems they should serve to classify role
expectations,and when applied to cultural systems they should deal
with types of normative patterns. Moreover, because of the inter-
penetrating character of these orders of systems, the same set of
variables should serve to deal with aU tliree.

be relevant for the analysis of the

Finally, the variables should
functional problems about which system differentiation takes place.
If a business firm and a mental hospital have somewhat different
forms of organization, it is probably because these organizations
must serve different functions. Not aU categories referring to ob-
ser\'ed differences behveen tliese organization types will do. The
variables selected should hit upon points and differ-
of similarity
ence crucial to die functioning of die system: you should be able
to demonstrate that a change in state of any one of the variables
would have some important consequence in terms of system func-
tioning.
The outcome of Parsons’ tliinking about these matters was the
now-famous set of pattern variables, long the hallmark of Parsonian
theory and regarded by some as his most important single theo-
retical [Link] were a set of five dichotomous variables
conceived as constituting universal and basic dilemmas confronting
any actor in any social situation. Parsons argued that each variable
40 • Edward C, Devereux, Jr.

represented a fundamenlal problem of orientation which the actor

would somehow have to resolve eillier one way or the other more- j

over, he would have to come to terms with all five before arriving
at any determinate orientation.
Let us consider how these dilemmas were conceived.
1. AffccdvUtj-A-ffeclive neufraliUj. Originally Parsons used this
variable simply to chaj'aclcrize one altitudinal component in social
relationships—whether affectivity were present or absent. Relation-
ships between husbands and wives in our society typically incorpo-
rate a high level of affectivity, whereas those
between social worker
and client do not. Notliing ^^'as implied about whether the affect
was positive or negative, and obviously there are wide variations
from case to case: some jnairiages go dead, affectively speaking.
But Parsons was never interested in particular cases as much as
in general norms. In terms of tlie institutionalized norms relating
to role [Link], American marriages are expected to involve
affectivity, while relationships between social workers and clients
are not. In eacli case, appropriate sanctions are present to deal
with deviations. And this in turn implies for Parsons that these
institutionalized definitions are probably appropriate for the func-
tioning of tliese two sorts of relationships: if the social worker, or
doctor, allows himself to become affectively involved, he may get
distracted from the tusk at hand.
In his more recent work willi this variable. Parsons has been
particularly concerned with these functional consequences. He came
to see affectivity vs. neutrality essentially as tlie dilemma of accept-
ing immediate gratification from the situation at hand or of defer-
ring gratification and accepting discipline. The latter alternative,

he argued, is usually involved in instrumental or task-oriented situa-

tions: the situation or relationship is not to be enjoyed in its o^^m
right but to be evaluated and used.
2. dichotomy points to yet another
Specificity-Diffuseness. This
attitudinal dimension in orientation toward social objects— what
Parsons refers to as tlie scope or inclusiveness of the relationship.
The marriage relationship may serve as a prototype of tlie diffuse

relationship: ego orients to alter as a total personality. At

tlie

opposite pole one might point to the highly specific character of

the relationship between clerk and customer in a drugstore: the
PABSONS" SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY 41
•*

parties are brought together for a specific and Hmited purpose, and
at least at tlie level of institutionalized expectations, all other aspects
of the, personalities of the role-players may be ignored. That these
expectations are not always observed in practice evidenced by is

the standard deviation of the boss-secretary relationsliip, as end-

lessly depicted in the pages of Esquire during the past twenty
years. But this is deviation, Parsons would insist; there are sanc-
tions and probably also dysfunctional consequences. It would
presumably be equally deviant and dysfunctional for the husband
to treat his wife in the functionally specific role of housekeeper.
Altliough there are evidently wdde variations in scope appro-
priate for different sorts of relationships, Parsons sees the basic
dilemma as essentially dichotomous. In a functionally specific rela-
tionship, if alter demands more of ego than ego is prepared to give,
the burden of proof is upon alter to show why this demand is
justified. The prototype is die contractual relationship: if something
is not tiiere in writing, you have no right to claim it. But where
diffuseness is the norm, as in die iamily, the burden of proof would
fall upon ego to demonstrate that some still higher claim prevents
liis compliance.
3. Universalisni-Particularism. Tliis is the first of two dilemmas
which, in Parsons’ system, pertain to modes of categorizing social
objects. Shall the object be judged in terms of some universal or
general frame of reference, or in terms of some particular reference
scheme in which ego is himself personally involved? Whether some-
one is a good doctor, a competent secretaiy^, or a beautiful woman
are presumably matters tb. be determined on universahstic grounds.
But while certain modes of behavior might be evoked toward
beautiful women or deserving cliildren in general, where one’s own
wife or child is involved, one is committed in many special ways,
regardless of beauty or desert. Parsons would point to nepotism as
prototypical of situations in which particularistic criteria are given
precedence over universahstic ones; and he would argue tliat in
many instrumental social systems an intrusion of nepotism would
be dysfunctional. One should choose a doctor on the basis of his
competence and not on the ground that he is friend, neighbor, or
cousin. Essentially the dilemma is whether cognitive' or cathectic
criteria should take precedence in defining the relationship.
42 • Edward C, Devereux, Jr.

4. Quahtij-Performance. Tlio second mode of cliaracterizing social

objects represents an attemptby Parsons to restate in more general
terms the ccntTal issue in Linton’s ascription-achievement dichot-
omy, This central dilemma, as Parsons conceives it, turns upon
whether the primary consideration, in defining a relationship, is
given fo some ascriptiVe qualify of flic ohjeef— age, sex, bcaufy,
possessions, status, and so on— or to some particular complex of
performances. Wliai matters most: who or what the person is, or
what he has done or can be expected to do? In preparing to scold
a lady driver, do you address )'our remarks primarily to the lady or
to the driver? How you behave will depend upon which side of
this polarity gains primacy.
5. Selj-orieniation-coUcclwitij-orieniation. In his study of the
medical profession. Parsons was struck with the observation that
the relationship between doctor and patient is ex'pected to be dis-
interested, while that of salesman and client is expected to be
self-interested. This is evidently not a question of differences in
personality or personal motivation. It is rather a matter of institu-
tional regulation: whatever his personal motivations, the business-
man is expected to make decisions with his eye primarily on the
balance sheet of his oum firm, whereas the doctor is ex'pected to
think primarily of the welfare of the patient, placing his own
economic welJarc in second priority. One can easily demonstrate.
Parsons argued, that a norm of caveat emptor would be drastically
dysfunctional for the medical profession.
Attempting to cast this problem in more general terms, it seemed
to Parsons that, in some relationships, what are essentially moral
considerations are [Link] to be given primacy, whereas in others
they are not. And what is morality, he reasoned, but the claim of
some superordinatc collectivity upon tire individual or sub-collec-
tivity? The problem becomes a crucial one for the relationships
among different orders of systems. Does the husband-father act
primarily for himself or for Iris family as a whole? Does the depart-
mental executive in a business firm act primarily in terms of his
own personal interests, in terms of the interests and welfare of the
department he serves, in terms of the interests of the firm as a
whole, or in terms of some still broader collectivity, perhaps of
society in general? It should be clear tlrat precisely the same
PABSONS' SOaOLOGICAL THEORY • 43

behavior which is collectivity-oriented in terms of the individual or

some sub-collectivity may yet be self-oriented in terms of the
larger system referent. Tlie dedicated businessman may selflessly

serve a corporation which is essentially self-oriented in its dealings

with, surrounding systems.
These five dichotomies, then, represent for Parsons the universal
dilemmas of orientation which must somehow be resolved before
any determinant orientation is achieved. He has argued, moreover,
that at this level of generality, the list is apparently exliaustive.
There are these five and no others.*^ Since these variables are con-
ceived as being analytically independent of one another, the set
thus generates, by cross tabulation, a typology of thirty-t^vo logically
possible patterns of orientation. But in this tlieoretically-derived

typology, Parsons has observed, tliere are many empty cells: em-
pirically, certain combinations of variables tend to cluster whereas
others never occur, and probably represent empirical impossibilities.
The pattern variables were described as representing dilemmas
faced by individual actors in attempting to define social situations.
But wliat determines which pattern wall be selected? In principle,
it might be wholly a matter of free individual preference, rooted

in the personality structure. Are some types of individuals, one

might ask, predisposed to define situations particularistically, others
to define situations universalistically? Although Parsons is walling
to entertain this possibihty, he is not much interested in it. For liim
the more important fact is that these choices tend to be defined by
the culture and institutionahzed in the form of normative patterns
held to be appropriate for different types of relational systems. If
the doctors wife has planned a special dinner party and if an
emergency call comes just as the guests are arriving, the culture
is clear about how the doctor ought to resolve the dilemma. The
test of an institutionahzed expectation, Parsons reasons, is precisely
this notion of oughtness and the presence of sanctions. In this case

® In one recent
discussion of diis position, Parsons entertained the
notion that perhaps* a sixtli didiotomy—long-run versus short-run
focus of valuation— might be needed to make the list exhaustive. But
in his subsequent work he has made no attempt to employ this addi-
tional variable. See, “Some Comments on tiie State of the General
Theor}^ of Action,” American Sociological Review, XVIII, No. 18
(Dec. 1953), pp. 618-631.
44 * Edward C. Devereux, }r.

the claims of the larger collectivity are expected to take precedence

over those of the family.
By applying which side does culture tend to throw
this test— on
itsweight in a tight decision?—Parsons is able to describe in pattern-
variable terms the profiles which characterize many diflFerent sorts
of relational systems. Relationships in families and friendship groups
typically display a pattern characterized by afEectivity, diffuseness,
parttcularism, quality orientation, and collectivity orientation. In
contrast, the relationships between business firms and customers
in our society tend to stress precisely the opposite pattern: affec-
tive neutrality, specificity, universalism, performance, and self-

orientation. These two polar cases serve to represent, in Parsonian

terminology, the ideal-typical patterns of Gemeinschaft and
Geselhchaft respectively. But with the additional leverage provided
by his system of pattern variables, Parsons is also able to describe
othei', more complicated intermediate types. Relationships between
doctors and patients, he demonstrates, are like those of business
firms and customers except for one crucial difference: tliey are
expected to be collectivity-oriented. Relationships between social
workers and clients are like those of doctors and patients, again
Avith one cracial difference: they tend to be more diffuse in scope.

By some such procedure as this, Parsons has attempted to describe,

classify, and compare the stmetures of a wide variety of relational

systems.

PRINCIPLES OF DYNAMIC STRUCTURAL-FUNCTIONAL ANALYSIS

The pattern variables have provided for Parsons a conven-

ient tool for the description, classification, and systematic comparison
of social structures. But structural description has never been his
primary goal. If there are these observed differeneces in relational
patterns, the important questions for Parsons have always been:
Why? What are the bases on which such structural differentiation
occurs? What differences do these differences make? It should be
clear that by themselves the pattern variables do not provide
answers to these questions. They were selected in such a way, how-
PABSONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY • 45

ever, that they should be relevant for the sort of answers Parsons
has been seeking.
The basic form of Parsons’ answer clear: the normative
is fairly

pattern wliich becomes any

institutionalized for particular type of
relational system will tend to be one which is somehow relevant
for tlie efiFective functioning of that type of system. Families must
perform a set of functions different from those of business firms,
and the normative patterns which govern these different types of
institutions vail reflect these differences in function.
In attempting to test the goodness of fit of any particular norma-
tive pattern for the relational system it serves. Parsons employs a
variety of devices. Most frequently he seems to depend upon a
land of “Gedankenexperiment”: he simply asks, what would be the
consequences for the system under study of some imagined devia-
tion from the established normative pattern? What would happen
to die doctor-patient relationship, for example, if this relationship
were allowed to become diffuse, or particularistic, or self-oriented?
Drawing upon funded knowledge, Verstehen, and careful reasoning,
he attempts to demonstrate that any such departures from the
established pattern would have seriously disruptive, that is dys-
functional, consequences for the system in question.
But Parsons does not have to depend wholly upon liis imagina-
tion in carrying out this analysis, for nature provides a variety of
experiments he is able to exploit. Much may be learned from
observed instances of actual deviation from tlie established pattern.
Systematic comparison of relational systems which are similar in
some respects but different in others also provides a point of
leverage. By
a careful and imaginative use of such comparisons.
Parsons attempts to come to grips with the unique combinations
of circumstances which give rise to the particular rionnative pat-
tern under study. Thus in tlie course of liis analysis of modern
medical practice, we find him exploring the points of similarity
and between various aspects of medicine and an aston-
difference
ishing number of other somewhat parallel phenomena. To mention
only a few of them: he compares medicine with magic; medical
science with military science (both involve high stakes and ‘large
elements of risk and uncertainty); die doctor with the engineer
(bodi play technical roles, but the latter deals with nonhuman
46 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

materials which do not have emotional reactions); the doctor with

the wise man (the latter has a more generalized wisdom and
authority); the doctor with tlie priest (both deal mth death, but
the latter more concerned with its sacred aspects); the doctor
is

with the army officer (the authority of the latter is backed by

coercive sanctions). Each such comparison provides Parsons with
a point of leverage for analyzing some special feature of the
doctor’s role. His principal paper on this subject (SS ch. X) con-
tains, by actual count, no less than thirty such comparative refer-
ences. Some of them are truly astonishing: who but Parsons would
ever stop to wonder why it is that a child typically has two parents,
while a patient has only one tlierapist? Is it something about Par-
sons’ tlieory, or simply his lively imagination, that leads him to
raise such questions?
The form wliich Parsons follows in his empirical analysis is
extremely complex. Before attempting to state in general terms
just what it is he seems to do, we had better take a look at a
typical sample of Parsonian argument. Let us jump into the middle
of his analysis of tlie doctor-patient relationship (SS ch. X) and
try to follow through just one thread in the complex web. It seems
to run something like tins:

1. In order to perform his technical functions adequately, die

doctor must have access to the body of the patient, and aJso to
certain areas of private infoimation about the patient. (A tech-
nical imperative is established.)
2. In other structures in which both the doctor and the pa-
tient are involved, body access and private information are
severely taboo’d and occur primarily in a nexus of intimate
friendship or marriage. {The problem of multiple roles and con-
flicting normative standards is cited.)
3. If the doctor is defined as a non-intimate or stranger, tire
patient may feel resistance to revealing secrets or allowing body
access; but tins \vitlilrolding would be dysfunctional for tlie
technical performances of the doctor. (A source of strain creates
a functional problem which must somehow be resolved.)
4. Caught up in this confusion of symbolic meanings, the pa-
tient may attempt to resolve the problem by trying to assimilate
the doctor to a nexus of intimate personal relationship, perhaps
seeking “secondary gains” from this area of permissive intimacy.
(A tendency toward deviance is established.)
parsons’ sociological theory • 47

5. If die doctor wereto allow himself to be drawn into an

emotionally-charged personal relationship witli the patient, the
attitude of scientific objectivity essential for the rational treat-
ment of tlie patient as a “case” might be seriously hampered.
(The threatened deviance would be dysfunctional for the tech-
nical role performance of the doctor.)
6. Proper dierapy, in psj^chiatric cases, also requires that the
doctor should not reciprocate die attacliments and attacks of die
patient. (An additional technical imperative is cited.)
7. If die doctor were to become involved in personal relation-
ships widi his patients, his relationships with his own wife and
friends might also be jeopardized. (The threatened deviance
would be dysfunctional for other system-referents as well.)
8. In order to handle these sources of strain and deviance,
block these potential dysfunctions, and support the technically
required functioning of the doctor-patient relationship, an appro-
priate set of mechanisms is necessary. These must be of such a
nature as to permit functionally-relevant body access and com-
munication, without undue discomfort or embarrassment and
widiout dysfunctional side-effects. (A structural imperative is
defined.)
9. The institutionalized patterning of die doctor-patient rela-
tionships in teims of the norms of functional specificity and
affective neutrality helps to keep tiiis relationship on its func-
tionally-required track and to mitigate die strains and dysfunc-
tional side-effects to which it is subject.
(a) Tlic norm of functional specificity serves to define and
restrict the doctor s access to privileged information and con-
10. in terms of a criterion of teclinical relevance, and this
tact,
restriction functions to allay die anxieties of the patient about
the possible consequences of such privileges.
(b) The noim of affective neuti*ality defines the expected
attitudes widiin diese limits: keeping the relationship “pro-
fessional” and affectively neutral ser\^es to protect both parties
from inappropriate and potentially dangerous involvements,
and permits the doctor to give technical considerations his
full attention.
(The established normative pattern is shown to be functionally
appropriate.)
But institutionalized normative patterns cannot
be effec-
tive unless tiiey arecommunicated, internalized, backed, by ap-
propriate sanctions, and bolstered by appropriate symbols. (Still
another sort of derived structural imperative is invoked.)
ih Jn die doctor-patient relationship the norms of functional
specificity and affective neutrality are communicated
and bol-
48 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

stered by a
variety of control mechanisms: the symbolism of the
“doctor’s the white coat, the presence of the nurse
office,”
"chaperone,” the framed medical degree, the scientific-looking
apparatus, and so on. These contextual arrangements function to
remind both doctor and patient of the roles they are expected to
play. (Appropriate mechanisms of social control are shown to
serve structural imperatives.)

Perhaps that is some impression of the line of

sufficient to give
argument Parsons pursues in carr}'ing out what he describes as
djmamic structural-functional analysis. It should he clear that
what we have seen is just one small fragment of the total argu-
ment, and a fragment necessarily leaves far too many things dan-
gling. Yet the whole point of a general theor)' and of a systematic
analysis made in terms of it is that nothing at aU should be left
danghng. In the original weh from which we have abstracted this
single thread. Parsons begins by examining such issues as tliese:
In what specific ways is illness dysfunctional for society? Under
what combinations of circumstances does the treatment of disease
come into the province of science and get removed from tlie tradi-
tional contexts of religion and magic? ^^ffiat are the special socio-
logical characteristics of the “sick role” in our own societ)'? Before
he is done, he has boxed the compass three times over, xvith the
result tliat the argument does indeed seem to achieve some sort

of closure. Piece by piece the loose ends are somehow picked up

and tucked back in; the degrees of freedom are gradually whittled
away until in the end it appears that the entire system is over-
determined and locked shut. !l^owing what we do of Parsons’ views
regarding the precarious nature of social equilibrium, however,
we cannot believe tliat he really expects things to stay at rest
very long.
Considering this example, together with many otliers in which
Parsons has worked his way through the analysis of various empiri-
cal phenomena, let us attempt to state in more general terms the
principal elements in his formula for dynamic structural-functional
analysis.
First, there is an analysis of a set of needs or imperatives. These
may be needs of individuals, as biological or psj'chological systems,
or they may be needs of particular social or cultural systems, or of
parsons’ sociological theory • 49

society as a whole. A upon

general analysis will necessarily touch
the needs of all of these different sorts of system-referents. The
formula, for establishing a need seems to be fairly clear: you
attempt to demonstrate that if the need is not somehow dealt with,
there will be dysfunctional consequences for the system in ques-
tion. A consequence is considered dysfunctional if it disturbs the
equilibrium of the system beyond some normal range of tolerance.
The range of phenomena treated as needs in Parsonian analyses
is vast,but there does appear to be a certain order among them.
The most important are those which he regards as universal, in
the sense that tliey stem from the more or less fixed parameters of
heredity and environment, and the limits these impose upon any
social system. Given the facts of biolog)', the organism must cat
to survive. Given tlie helplessness of the human infant, some pro-
vision must be made for its care and training. Given the cycle
of life and death, societies must contrive to replace their members.
Parsons refers to needs of this sort as univ'crsal imperatives or
functional prerequisites, and his list of them is relatively small.
All the rest of tlie needs which figure in his analyses are regarded
as secondary, derived or contingent. They stem from circumstances
peculiar to some particular t)'pe or state of a given system. It is

a universal imperative for any society to make some provision for

its food supply. But if some particular society, given its own
peculiar environment and state of technolog)', must do so by con-
once a variety of other impera-
triving to catch large fish at sea, at
tives come into being. There must be boats and nets, and men to
man tliem; there must be coordination of activities and hence
leadership; there must be some definition of who ou'ns what, and
of how the catch will be distributed; there must be some provision
that those who cannot fish may still be fed; and there must be
some provision that other vital interests of the society wll not
all be neglected while the men are oif in the boats.

It is of course this proliferation of derived needs and their com-

plex interconnections which provide for Parsons the challenge he
most enjoys. There appear to be three principal varieties of such
nonuniversal imperatives which figure in Parsonian analyses: there
are the technical or instrumental imperatives, that is those which
arise in connection with bringing instrumental processes to bear
50 • Edward C. Devereiix, Jr.

on some intermediate goal or objective; tliere are the organizational

or sb-uctural imperatives, that those wliich are concerned with
is

the establishment and maintenance of any particular form of social

organization; and tliere are the imperatives of compatibility, that
is those which are concerned with the articulated adjustments of

the different sorts of systems in any particular society to one another.

It should be clear that aU of these derived needs are relative
to the equilibrium or survival of some particular form of a system,
and that they are not necessarily involved in die survival of the
society as a whole. One could easily make a listing of imperatives
appropriate for tlie survival of the pattern of racial discrimination
in the South, without implying that a continuation of this pattern
is essential for societal survival.
Second in the Parsom’an plan of structural-functional analysis
is a detailed account of the structures, processes, and mechanisms
through wdiich these various imperatives are served. The advantage
of the functional point of view. Parsons maintains, is tliat it sup-
plies a continuous criterion of relevance for stmctural analysis; the
insistent question is always this: wdiat are the consequences of
this or that particular process or structural element for the various
needs of the systems it serves? What wmuld happen if this particu-

lar component were absent or altered in some way? How' Parsons

proceeds w'ith tliis phase of the analysis has been illustrated before.
It should be clear that this step of the analysis is concerned with
consequences, and not ^vith origins. It is not essential to the argu-
ment to say tliat these structures have come into being to serve
these needs, although some such teleological postulate is often
implicit in structural-functional analysis, including some of those
by Parsons himself.
The matcliing of structures, functions, and needs involves some
rather slippery problems for tire analyst. For one thing, as soon as
any particular structural form comes into being to serve a given

need, a host of additional, derived imperatives spring up in con-

nection with maintenance of tliis particular structural form.

tlie

For another, it is clear that any operative structure has conse-

quences or outputs with respect to a variety of different system-
referents; wliile it may serve the needs of some of these most
admirably, it may produce dysfunctional consequences for others.
PABSONS' SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY • 51

Again, it is evident tliat almost any particular need is usually

sensed by a variety of different structural components. Consider a
simple-minded example: clothing may serve the needs of warmth,
modesty, status differentiation, and sexual attraction. Yet each of
these needs is also served by otlier devices as well—status differ-
entiation, for example, by language, possessions, style of Hfe, and
so on. And of course the nature of the “need” for status differentia-
tion varies for different system-referents in die same society, and
varies widely from one type of society to another.
It is diis complex intermeshing of needs, structures, and func-
tions which makes it essential that the analysis be systematic and
complete. It is not enough to cite a need and point to a structural

form which serves it, or to propose an alternative which might serve

it better. One must consider as well all of the collateral consequences

bodi of the observed pattern and the proposed alternative for

other needs of the same and other system-referents. And one must
continually appraise the needs themselves, keeping in mind the
contingent character of most of them and the chains of circum-
stance from wliich they derive. The final outcome of a systematic
structural-functional analysis would be, ideally, some kind of inven-
tory in which all of the consequences of existing arrangements and
contemplated alternatives were projected against a carefully speci-
fied hierarchy of needs and values, to the end of arriving at some
over-all balance sheet of net gains or losses for society as a whole
or for the sub-system under examination.
There is another outcome, however, in which Parsons seems to
be somewhat more interested—the assessment of tlie systems under
study in terms of die problems of internal dynamics and equilib-
rium. His procedure here some interest. Having described the
is of
structural circuits of die phenomena under study, he turns on the
motivational currents and seeks to observ'e what happens when
the juices of affect are coursing through diem. He dies to account ,

for the forces wliich tend to generate the system and hold it in a
steady state. But he also looks for the points of strain or tension,
and for the forces which tend to pull die system apart. Having
located these, he looks for mechanisms of control which function
to buttress the system at strain points or otherwise to restore the
balance. He goes on to ask whether any strains remain unresolved
52 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

and, when he finds tliem, prohes for adaptive structures

which may
have sprung up to serve them.
Parsons' approach to the problems of structural-functional anal-
ysis obviously leans rather heavily on the prior work of Durkheim
and Malinowski. Indeed, it appears to this reviewer that Parsons
has never produced as direct a statement of what is involved in
this type of analysis as that proposed by Mahnowski some thirty
years ago.* Yet in Parsons’ hands the method has gro\rTi in richness
and complexity, perhaps simply because of his sldll at keeping an
extraordinary number of analytical balls in the air at tlie same
time, perhaps because of liis almost fanatical drive toward sys-

tematic completeness. Parsons’ special contribution to structural-

functional analysis, it seems to me, lies in the area of what he
calls dynamic analysis. More than most others who have worked
this field. Parsons has attempted to draw in, at every step of the
path, the relevant psychological and motivational factors. And it is

these, of course, which provide the forces, strains, and tensions

with which he likes to deal.
I have commented earlier on Parsons’ concern with the problem
of equilibrium, and argued that this is not something he takes
lightly for granted. Actually, I suspect that Parsons is not so much
interested in the final product, equilibrium, as he is in the processes
which bring For him, the phenomenon of equilibrium
this about.
serves as an heuristically useful dependent variable or criterion of
effect, in terms of which the manifold [Link] of system function-
ing may be analyzed. It supplies an insistent standard of relevance
for every step in the analysis. The fact that a social system survives
in its many instigations to change or deviance,
environment, despite
indicates that it has somehow managed to cope with its complex
problems and needs. The heart of the analysis lies in specifying
the needs and the mechanisms tlrrough which tliey are served, and
then of attempting to arrive at some notion of tire over-all balance
of forces coursing through the system. The criterion of dynamic
equihbrium serves as a sort of summation function for this analysis.

® For Malinowski’s best brief statement, see “Culture,” Emychpaedia

of the Social Sciences, IV (New York: The Macmillan Company,

1930), pp. 621-645.
J>ARSONS' SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY * 53

GROUP PROCESS AND THE FUNCTIONAL PROBLEMS

OF SOCIAL SYSTEMS

The patternvariables and the problems of structural-func-

tional analysisoccupied a central position in Parsons’ tliinldng over
a long period of time. In his most recent works, however, he appears
to be moving away from them. He has come more and more to
regard tlie concept of structure as a sort of analytical half-way
house. Structure, as Parsons sees it, represents at best a convenient
way of codifying and talking about certain apparent constancies in
social phenomena, before their internal processes and dynamic
laws are fully understood. But when we make structure out primary
focus of attention, he has reasoned, there is a danger that we will
somehow reify it and bypass more basic questions about the
processes tliat generate and maintain tliese apparent constancies.
Structure presupposes frozen process; but in reality, process never
freezes.
Consider in this connection what is implied by Parsons’ concep-
tion of dynamic equilibrium. The equilibrium of a social system,
he obseives, is of a rather different sort than that of a table or a
they are simply because nothing is going
pile of sand, wliich stay’ as
on within or outside of them to provide an impulse for change:
the principle of inertia alone is sufficient to account for tliis sort
of static equilibrium. With social systems, as with organic systems.
Parsons argues, such static equilibrium is never possible, for two
reasons: tliere is always a certain amount of continuing process
witliin die system which provides an impulse for change of state;
and there is always an element of flux in the external situation which
tends to throw the system off balance. Dynar ic equilibrium is
not so much a matter of a system’s remaining always in a steady
state as it is of the system’s having the capacity to return to some
status quo ante after each minor disturbance, by means of appro-
priate adjustments. To which serve this equili-
refer to processes
brating function, Parsons uses term
mechanisms: organic
the
systems have regulative mechanisms, personalities have mechanisms
of defense, and social systems have mechanisms of social control.
54 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

Although some such model as this has been in Parsons’ tliinldng

all along, in the last decade he has been pursuing some of its

implications much more intensively, primarily, it would appear,

as a result of his close association and collaboration vdth Robert
F. Bales.
Bales’ concern widi tire observational study of interaction process
in small face-to-face groups led him to work out a system of
categories for classifying everything which was said or done, at
die moment it occurred. These categories, twelve in all, were
designed to be relevant for what Bales conceived to be die princi-
pal functional problems which would need to be faced by any
small problem-solving group. Essentially, Bales reasoned, these
would be two principal types: those concerned with the solution
of
of the problems imposed by the task itself, and those concerned
with the motivations of group members and the establishment of
a sufficient level of cohesion to permit die group to function as a
unit in dealing with its task. Six of the categories fell into the task
area and six into what Bales called the social-emotional area.
Within each set, three represented forms of positive interaction
and diree of negative interaction.**
Aldiough it may be used for many other purposes as well, the
Bales technique was particularly well suited for studying sequences
of group processes, along a time line. Set a group to interacting
about some problem, record what is said and done in terms of the
twelve categories, and then compare what happens in each suc-
cessive phase of the interaction. Repeat this process with a large
number of different groups and see whether there is any consistent
sequence of activities through ivliich groups typically move while
solving a problem. With respect to the categories in the task area.
Bales had expected, on the basis of his theory of problem-solving,
diat in die initial phase interaction would center largely about the
problems of orientation, that in the next phase evaluation would
become the main focus of interest, and that in the final phase,
problems of control would receive die major attention of die group.
With respect to the categories in the social-emotional area, he had

**
Robert F. Bales, Interaction Process Analysis (Cambridge, Mass.;
Addison-Wesley Press, 1950).
PAKSONS’ SOaOLOGICAL THEORY * 55

expected tliat tliese would become increasingly prominent, botli in

their positive and negative forms, as the groups moved from one
phase to the next. His findings tended in general to confirm these
expectations.* There was tlius clear empirical evidence that inter-
action processes in small groups tended to be differentiated along
a time line, and that tliis differentiation tended to follow a sequence
of phases relevant for the functional problems of the group.
The Bales technique also provided some fresh evidence about
the bases of role differentiation in small problem-solving groups.
By making a separate record for each member of tlie group, a
series of profiles may be obtained showing the categories in which
the contributions of each most frequently fall. By this device. Bales

and were able to demonstrate that there are indeed

his associates
consistent differences in the roles played by different members of
the group. These differences emerge fairly early, tend to stabilize,
and to carry forward from one meeting to tlie next. And on what
basis does this differentiation occur? Among on the
otliers, basis
of leadersliip type. In many of the groups studied there were clear
evidences of the emergence of a dual-leadership pattern, with one
person assuming the role of task leader, anotlier tlie role of social-
emotional leader of the group.f
It should be clear that the groups studied by Bales and his
associates were not natural groups which existed as regular com-
ponents of some larger soeiocultural system. They were contrived
groups, setup ad hoc for the purposes of tlie experiment, typically
consisting of members who were strangers at the start and stood
in no established relations to one anotlier. The problems were also
contrived and were not of the sort in which members of the groups
might have had some prior involvement. So far as possible. Bales
was interested in catcliing interaction process and the emergence
of differentiated group structures in a sociocultural vacuum. The

® R. F.^ Bales and F. L. Strodtbeck, “Phases in (Jroup Problem-

Solving,” The Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychoioau, XLVI
(1951), pp. 485-495.
f See R. F. Bales and Philip E. Slater, “Role Differentiation in Small
Decision-Making Groups,” in FSI, eh. 5, and Philip E. Slater, “Role
Differentiation in Small Groups,” in Paul Hare, E. F. Borgatta, and
-R. F. Bales, eds.. Small Groups: Studies in Social Interaction
(New
York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1955), pp. 498-515.
56 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

roles ofwhich Bales talked were not “social roles” as Parsons con-
ceived them, but merely behavioral roles. And whatever institutions
or culture tlie groups possessed they appeared to have invented
for themselves.
For Parsons was heady medicine. Following in the grand
all this

tradition of Max Weber, he had devoted years to the study of

comparative institutions, and had talked at length about the
Protestant etliic, the American family, Japan, or Germany. To be
sxure, he had always tried to talk in terms of general analytical

theory, but even so the fact remained that each object was histor-
own insistence that the relevant sociocultural
ically unique. Parsons’
context be always taken into account threatened continually to
ensnare him in the sort of cultural relativity and liistoricism of
which he had accused the ideahsts. But now, in the challenging
new formulations of Bales, he saw an opportunity to break tlrrough
to a far more general plane of analysis \vithout sacrificing anything
essential to Iris own theoretical system. In any event, Parsons and
Bales became active collaborators in two major monographs, the
Working Papers (1953) and Familif, Socialization, and Interaction
Process (1955); and tlie resulting new directions have left their
mark on all of Parsons’ subsequent work.
The core of tins new synthesis consists of a reformulation of the
functional problems faced by any social system whatever, large
or small, institutionalized or contrived. These are now seen as four
in number, two having to do with the relations of the system to
tire external environment, the other two with conditions internal
to the system itself.

First, tliere are the instrumental problems incident to goal attain-

ment: these are seen as including the solution of relevant technical

problems in terms of some means-ends schema and the coordina-
tion of activities in such a way that the system moves toward
whatever goals it has set for itself.
Second, tliere are the problems of adaptation to the external situa-
tion. As Parsons conceives it, adaptation is not merely the problem
of coming to terms with the environment in whatever posture per-
mits survival; it includes active manipulation of the environment,
or of the system itself, to the end of acquiring facilities which have
a generalized value as means for a variety of system goals. Capital
parsons’ sociological theory • 57

accumulation, tool-building, and learning are all regarded as rele-

vant for the adaptive problem.
Tliird, there are the internal problems of integration-, the focus
here is upon tlie relations of units in the system to one another,
and the problem tliat of establishing and maintaining a level of
solidarity or cohesion among them sufficient to permit the system
to function.
Finally, tliere are tlie different but related problems of pattern
maintenance and tension management. Both are concerned with
conditions internal to die units themselves that nevertheless have
consequences for system functioning. The problem of pattern
maintenance is essentially that faced by an actor in reconciling the
various norms and demands imposed by his participation in any
particular social system with those of other systems in which he
.

also participates, or \vith the more general norms of the broader

culture. If tliere is serious role conflict or normative incompatabil-
ity, the system will suffer the consequences. Tension management
is defined as the problem of maintaining within the unit a level
of motivational commitment sufficient for required role perform-
ances. The notion here is that there are continuous changes of
state within the units, with rise and fall of tension, and unless
suitable measures are taken, these changes may potentially serve
as instigation to deviance from the patterns established for the
system.
We may Navy destroyer as an example. Since the goal is
use a
finding and sinking enemy submarines, goal attainment consists
of all of the activities and instrumental processes directly relevant
for this task, as when the ship is at general quarters,
with all hands
at battle [Link] problems are those relevant for keep-
ing the ship afloat and maneuverable in its sea-borne environment
and in a state of readiness for whatever missions it may be called
upon to serve. In addition to routine maintenance and drill at sea,
periods in dry dock, recruitment policies, and training programs
all serve the functions of adaptation.
The
internal components or units of the destroyer are its various
departmental sub-systems—the departments of navigation, gunnery,
engineering, communications, supply, and so on-and these in turn
have individual officers and men as tlieir units. The integrative
58 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

problem is essentially tliat of interdepartmental relations: keeping

lines of autliority and communications straight, coordinating tlie
contributions of tlievarious departments, and serving their needs
in such a way as to mitigate interdepartmental jealousies and en-
hance motivations to cooperate. Neat organization and high morale
would appear to be the integrative goals.
Finally, there are the two problems internal to the units them-
selves wliich are relevant for system functioning. When depart-
mental sub-systems are taken as units, the problem of pattern
maintenance would appear to be tliis: what goes on or needs to
go on within the departments in order to sustain a readiness to
contribute to tlie performances required by the superordinate sys-
tem? There is always some danger that component units will slip
out of phase or out of field, as for example when any one depart-
ment comes to regard its own goals as ends-in-themselves and not
simply as instrumental contributions to the ultimate goals of the
ship as a whole: an over-zealous maintenance department may
produce some dysfunctional consequences for the sliip as a fight-
ing unit. Hence the need for adjustive mechanisms to keep these
patterns in phase. The problem of tension management at the
level of departmental sub-systems arises as a by-product of the
fact tliat the flow of time and continuing process produces a con-
tinual change of state \vithin the sub-system: the men come on
watch or go off on a liberty party, work, eat or sleep, strive for
personal goals, compete, cooperate, or bicker. Even when the
department is not directly contributing any output relevant for the
broader system, tliese internal processes go on, tensions rise or
fall, and hence unless they are somehow managed or controlled,

there may be consequences dysfunctional for the broader system.

Wlren individual personalities are taken as the component units
in the system, tlie problems of pattern maintenance and tension
management are perhaps a little easier to visualize. Pattern main-
tenance here involves the problem of the internalization of system
goals and patterns, and the motivational commitment to them: for
the individual officer or sailor, this will involve some efforts to

reconcile these goals and standards with those of their other roles
as husbands, church members, or citizens in a democratic society.

Tension management here involves the problems which arise as

parsons’ sociological theory • 59

a result of tlie continual changes of state which occur within the

organism and personality system of the actor: if he is not eating,
he is growing hungry; if he is working, he is growing tired; drives
build up and need to be reduced, repressed urges demand to be
dealt with. All these tilings occur not only wliile the actor is
actively participating in his system role hut also during periods of
disengagement or latency. And evidently liis success in deahng
Avith them, in managing his tensions, and maintaining a posture of
personality equilibrium or mental health, will have important con-
sequences for his contributions to the system. Perhaps he can deal
with them himself, by means of what Parsons calls his mechanisms
of defense. But since it is also a problem for the social system, the
system may need to provide some assistance.
Let us now go on to mention briefly some of the uses Parsons
and his various collaboratorshave been making of this analysis of
die four functional problems of any social system.
First, there has been a reformulation of the equihbrium problem

in terms of a balance of phase movements (WP chs. 3, 4, 5).

Parsons conceives of the four system problems as orthogonal
dimensions in a sort of “action space” and argues that almost any
concrete activity or process in which the system, or its components,
engage will have some consequences for all of them. But since
it is manifestly impossible to move in all directions at once, move-

ment toward the “goal state” with respect to tlie solution of any
one system problem may well involve movement away from the
“goal state” with respect to the others. While the ship is in battle,
maintenance problems get neglected. "Viflien the ship is in dry dock,
attending to adaptive problems, it is for the while unable to fight.
Leaves of absence for the sailors may relax tensions and restore
mental health but raise new problems with respect to their rein-
tegration in the ship’s organization. There is no single state of a
system, Parsons argues, constituting an optimum balance of gains
and costs for all system problems simultaneously. The only solution
to the equilibrium problem is a cycle of phase movements in which
each type of system problem enjoys its moments of special attention.
A typical sequence of phases might be one which starts Avith
a focus on adaptive problems, the preparation of tools and facil-
ities; goes on to goal attainment; when the work is
done and the
60 Edward C. Devereux, Jr,

goal attained, attends to the strains and tensions which its pursuit
has entailed and utilizes the moments of gratification to re-estabhsh
feelings of solidarit)' or cohesion;and then at last returns to a
latent state inwinch component units find an opportunity to relax,
blow off some steam, attend to private affairs, reconsider the
premises of tlieir involvement and prepare themselves for the next
cycle of active participation. But Parsons does not insist on this
particular order of phases. And in any event, he observes, which-
ever phase is dominant at the moment, an eye must always be kept
on the other problems as well, and if tlungs get too badly out of
line, something must be done at once.

Wliile Bales is busy plotting the cycle of phases during an hour

of problem-solvingby small experimental groups. Parsons’ eye is
akeady scanning the institutionahzed social calendar. In a single
day,tire hours of eight to five are devoted to the instrumental prob-

lems of adaptation and goal attainment, after work hours to the

problems of integration, pattern maintenance, and latency. In the
weekly cycle, weekends are reserved for special attention to these
social-emotional problems. In the annual calendar, the same cyclical
elements appear again, writ large: there are the work days, the
holidays, and the holy days, each witlr their special functions. All
these things, of course, are institutionalized and passed along as
part of the content of the culture. But Parsons can now argue that
tlieir persistence is not merely a matter of blind learning. The
evidence from Bales’ experimental groups strongly suggests that
if these important elements of temporal differentiation were some-

how abolished men would quickly reinvent tliem.

A second use Parsons has made of the system problems concerns
role differentiation witliin social systems. We have noted before
how Bales had observed the emergence of task leaders and social-
emotional leaders in his experimental groups. Following his own
characteristic train of tliought, Parsons at once went on to inquire
whedier a similar basis of differentiation might not also be observed
in established, institutionalized relational systems. Picking the family
as a special case, he attempted to demonstrate that the husband-
father is typically the specialist in the instrumental roles relative
to the interactions of the family with the external environment.
parsons’ sociological theory • 61

the wife-mother the specialist in the expressive or social-emotional

areas concerned with relations internal to tlie family (FSI).
The tliird area of application which Parsons found for the four-
fold scheme of system problems lay in the reanalysis of tlie bases of
structural differentiation among social systems in the same society.

So long as he had approached this problem from the concrete

institutional level, he was in constant danger of becoming involved
with historically unique situations and with fantastically elaborate
schemes for trying to classify them. An approach from the direction
of the four system problems ofiFered a basis of classification which
looked simpler and more general.
In a highly differentiated society such as our own, Parsons
argued, economic institutions are developed to deal primarily with
adaptive problems. The institutions of defense and, in part, of
education are also seen as falling into this sector. All are concerned
with the provision of having generaHzed means value in
facilities

terms of social goals. When the system of reference is society as

a, whole, goal attainment clearly falls wtliin the province of the

state or polity. The would seem to be divided

integrative functions
among and many other structures about which
the state, the church,
important cultural values are focused. And what of the family?
From the point of view of society as the reference system, the con-
tributions of the family appear to
mainly in the “latency sector”;
fall

the family, tlrat is, specializes in the functions of pattern mainte-

nance and tension management. When you have nowhere else to
go and nothing else to do, you go home and the family will help
get you ready for the next round. To this reviewer, it appears tlrat
tlie fit between system problems and institutions, as here depicted,

is far from perfect. But even so, as udth so many other Parsonian

formulations, it has cast a new and provocative light on a number

of familiar phenomena.
In all this, so far, I have been treating society as a whole as
die reference system, and institutional sub-systems as the component
units. Let it be clear that each of these, whatever its omi special-
izcd funcfa'ons for society as a whole, also must face all four system
problems. The
business firm produces an output for society in the
fonn of adaptive facilities; but witliin itself, it has its o^vn problems
of adaptation, goal attainment, integration, and so on. These func-
62 • Edward C. Devereux, Jr.

tional needs may

be assigned to specialized departmental
in turn
sub-systems, which also have to meet all four system problems in
their own right. The result of this method of looldng at matters is
a long series of systems nesting %vithin systems nesting within sys-
tems, like a set of Russian Easter eggs. Needless to say, this poses
some rather tricky problems for tlie analyst in keeping straight
exactly which level of system-referent is being talked about.
In Economy and Society Parsons exploits this nesting pattern to
considerable advantage. The logic of his procedure is essentially
this: within any given level of system, ignore what goes on inside
its component sub-systems and attend only to what passes about
among form of inputs and outputs. But don’t stop here.
tliem, in tire
After you have analyzed the exchange of inputs and outputs across
sub-system Hues, you must look inside tire sub-system components
and analyze tliem in tlie same way, looking for the sub-sub-systems
which handle tlieir own systems problems. Trace through what
happens to the inputs received, how tliey are processed witlrin the
sub-system unit, and how the relevant output is generated. Note
that what is goal attainment for the sub-system is delivered as out-
put to tlie superordinate system, 'y
K'^ 9*5.7.
Keep this up for a rather long time, proceeding upward until
you have reached society as a whole as your final system-referent.
and downward until you are dealing with tlie exchanges wthin
individuals between the organic system and tlie personality system.
When you are done, you presumably have a complete account of
the total action system of the society in question. And this account,
be it noted, is not in terms of any static structural concepts but in
terms of tlie continuous flow of phased and interlocking processes
of interchange within and between systems.
Parsons, of course, does not seriously recommend that anyone
should actually try to do even if it were tech-
this in full detail,
nically possible. No more would an oceanographer attempt to chart
and explain the exact positions and movement of every single wave.
But in principle, with an adequate general theory, it ought to be
possible. Fortunately for the sociological analyst, not all things
are equally important. Wliat Mr. Jones said to his wife at break-
fast may have some importance for him and his owm family, but
by itself is not likely to have much effect on tlie institution of the
PAESONS’ SOCIOLOGICAL THEOBY * 63

family or upon society as a whole, Wliat was decided at the

bargaining table regarding wages and priees in the steel industry,
however, may indeed have reverberations throughout the entire
society. In his most recent discussions of this problem, Parsons has
been talking in terms of a hierarchy of levels of organization and
control. He has argued, for example, that within a business firm
it is nonsense to consider the managerial function as simply coordi-

nate with any other technical function. It is in a qualitatively

different position because of its responsibility for determining the
categories of inputs and outputs. But the fiduciary board of trustees
occupies still a higher level in the hierarchy because of its concern
with legitimizing the functions of the firm in terms of the values
of the broader society.®
<(^oking across the entire range of systems encompassed in his gen-
eral tlieory of action. Parsons concludes that there is indeed an order
among them: psychological systems organize and control the organic
systems, social systems organize and control the psychological sys-
tems, and cultural systems organize and control the social systems.f
Though many otlier tilings have developed and changed in Parsonian
theory over the years, institutionalized normative patterns still com-
mand a major share of his interest and attention.’^-

* Talcott Parsons, "General Theorj' in Sociology,” in E.. K. Merton

ct ah, cds.. Sociology Today; Problems and Prospects (New York"
Basic Books, Inc,, 1959), ch. 1.
1 See Koch, ed., op. cit., p. 61'6.
I THE
Robin M. Williams, Jr.

I
SOCIOLOGICAL
I
THEORY
I
OF
I
TALCOTT
I PARSONS

I. INTRODUCTION

Professor Devereux has given us a summary and

evaluation of an exceedingly complex body of thought set
a large niunber of publications over a period of
fortli in

more than twenty years. In tliis chapter I continue the

analysis by further exposition and criticism of certain
aspects of Parsons’ works. The concepts and substantive
problems touched upon at one time or another in the writings
under review range over a large proportion of the major
concerns of sociology and extend into anthropology, psy-
chiatry, psychology, pohtical science, and economics. This
comprehensiveness is intentional; as early as the formu-
THE SOCIOLOGICAL. THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 65

lation ofThe Structure of Social Action in the 1930 s, tlie central aim
of Parsons’ work was nothing less than the development of a con-
ceptual scheme capable of subsuming all analytical knowledge of
socialconduct at a certain level of abstraction. The task of discerning
and stating in a concise way the major elements in tliis ambitious
program is not rendered easier by the circumstance that we have to
deal not with tlie elaboration of a fixed set of concerns and ideas, but
with a dev'eloping corpus of tliought wliich has gone tlirough a con-
tinuous process of reformulation, often in quite subtle ways.
Tlie element of search and reformulation to which I have just

alluded may be illustrated in several striking instances. The pre-

occupation of The Structure of Social Action (1937) witli the “unit
act” contrasts Nvith the quite small part played by this concept
by time of The Social System (1951); in the latter work the
tlie

focus of attention has shifted toward ‘liigher order” units such as

“status-role” and one finds some foreshadow-
“institution.” Similarly,
ing in tlie first two works of the later concern wth psycho-
of these
analytic concepts, but Freud is mentioned just twice in the Index
and tlie influence of his ideas is as yet obviously slight. In the later
book, however, the Freudian tliemes have become strong and per-
xTisive. In work a concern wth personality structures
tlie earlier
and processes is conspicuous by its absence; in tlie later formula-
tions, personality not only takes its place alongside society and

culture as one of the great “systems” within the theory of action, but
also receives an impressive amount of attention even in a work
[Link] focused on the social system. In reading the first major
work one u'ould hardly suspect that the socialization of children
is a major process in social systems, but in Family, Socialization,

and Interaction Process the topic has become a central preoccupa-

tion. In 1937, the human organism
is, for the most part, an inscru-

table “black box” which

some unspecified wa)' simply supplies
in
the “onerg)” necessar\’ to get “action” under way, and is of little
further theoretical interest, except as an entity which is not the
.social actor. By 1951, considerable attention is dev'oted to such
matters as the human infant’s plasticity, dependency, affectisity,
and capacity for symbol-mediated learning, A major interest of
The Structure of Social Action is in the analysis of "rational action”
and the differentiation of logical and nonlogical action; in the later
66 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

works the concern survives, for tlie most part, only in the altered
form of the attention given to the instrumental versus expressive
behavior, and the lines of distinction have been considerably altered.
All this is not to imply any fundamental discontinuity. On the
contrary, one of tlie more impressive characteristics of Parsons’
thought is its persistent, almost dogged, wrestling with a continu-
ing set of really major theoretical problems tliroughout a long
From the very beginning, the concept of
period of time. instituiion
has occupied a central position. Over and over again, now from
one perspective, now from another, we are brought back to the
broad question of the conditions for system-maintenance or “equi-
librium.” The part played by common values in social stability and
change has been a focus of analysis in all of Parsons’ major works.
Continually, we find attention directed to the Hobbesian problem:
how is order in society possible? But the question does not remain
fixed and inert: its scope widens even as it becomes more complex
and specific. In 1937 it is enough to say tliat social order is always
a normative phenomenon; that the only ultimate preventive for
the war of each against all is an agreement upon common values
and symbols, reinforced by ritual; that neither coercive means nor
advantaged interdependence nor both in combination are enough
to account for the convergent mutuality of conduct that observa-
tion finds to be so prevalent in known societies scattered through
time and space. By 1951, the original assertions remain; but we
now find tliat the existence of a common-value system has itself
become a problem; it is no longer postulated simply as a logically
derived formal condition for the existence of “orderly society.” New
explicitness characterizes the analysis of deviance, alienation and
social [Link] with a continuing awareness of the massive
societal import of power, political processes, and the economy of
instrumental systems of action, there is in the later works a strik-
ingly enhanced focus upon the micro-sociology of interpersonal
relations. Consistent%wth this development is the elaboration of the
analysis of expressive behavior and of systems of beliefs.
In writings hawng to do with theoretical interpretations of human
behavior one often senses a hidden dialogue in which we primarily
hear one end of the conversation, and it is often helpful to know
something more tlian the writer explicitly tells us about the views
THE sociological THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 67

of the parties wtli whom he agrees or argues. As Devereux has

noted, one can discern several polemical interests in Parsons’ thought
which have helped to shape the positive theoretical formulations
wliich constitute the main body of his contributions. The targets

of criticism emerge with particular clarity in The Structure of

Social Action, a book best understood in the context of the prevail-
ing intellectual currents in tlie social sciences during a period of,
say, some twenty years prior to its publication. In that work Par-
sons launches attacks across a wide front. He rejects, in the first

place, biologistic and wholly inadequate to

“instinct” tlieories as
account for cultural variability and for die complex specificity of
social conduct. At tire same time he is equally decisive in pointing
out the empirical and logical inadequacies of the various mono-
factorial “determinisms”: geograpliic determinism, economic deter-
minism, and the like. On tire opposite flank, he gives a trenchant
critique of “radical rationalistic” formulations which conceive of
action as determined by an actor s cognitively correct apprelien-
sion of an environment—in wliich the rationally calculating actor
is a sensitive high-speed scanning device, as it were, equipped

\vith large-capacity electronic computing facihties. Against the

vogue of neobehaviorism and elementaristic stimulus-response in-
terpretations, he contends that much behavior is goal-directed,
that “ends” are not epiphenomenal, tliat action is normatively de-
fined and regulated, fhat values do exist and have an independent
causal efficacy. Against conceptions of society as a “symbiotic” or-
der of economic and pohtical interdependence, he argues that via-
ble societies cannot exist without a minimal sharing of values, going
beyond considerations of sheer expediency. To an American sociol-
ogy wedded to empiricism on the one hand, and bemused by prag-
matic ameliorism, on the other, he brought a new insistence upon
the legitimacy, necessity and fruitfulness of systematic abstract
wtii the astringent perspective on "social prob-
theoty, togetlier
lems” of such European scholars as Max Weber and Emile Durk-
heim.®
® The substantial impact of these views
upon sociology in the United
States was perhaps less diminished than accentuated by the fact that
the book in which they appeared was learned, long, complex, ab-
struse, and difficult. The challenge was impressive, and in many
quarters it soon became a mark of prestige to have “read Parsons,*’
68 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

II. MAJOR ELEMENTS OF THE CONCEPTUAL THEME

Although the full exposition of the developed body of the

“theory of action” is elaborate and, in a certain abstract way, de-
tailed, the initial set of conceptions with which the schema begins
can be stated rather briefly.
We start with an actor (ego) in a situation. The actor is a more-
or-less sociahzed human being, endowed with the organismic
characteristics of energy, capacity for learning, dependency and
vulnerability, high sensitivity to stimuH and the ability to discrimi-
nate and generahze among them, bi-sexuality, capacity to use sym-
bols and to remember and to anticipate, mortahty, and a number
of other signiflcant properties that are “normally” eflcited in the
an individual living in society. The situation within
life-course of
which the actor acts is composed of physical objects (including
organisms other than men), cultural objects, (artifacts, language,
value-and-belief systems, symbols of various kinds—insofar as these
are not directly constitutive of social actions ®
)
and social objects,
which may be either individual social actors or collectivities. “Ac-
tion” is behavior that is, in some sense, directed toward goals; it

has motivational significance; it is not just a specific reaction to a

momentary stimulus, but rather has some systematic quality, es-
pecially insofar as it involves “expectations” as to the contingent
actions of other social actors.
In a specific situation a specific actor’s motivations may be re-

garded as classifiable into cognitive, cathectic,f and evaluative

modes. He must identify objects and define their characteristics
relevant to his interests, appraise their gratificational possibihties,
and— at least once we go beyond a single elementary act— evaluate
alternative cognitive interpretations and different possibilities of

cathectic gratification.
Now, “action” is defined as behavior in which these several as-

" “. are treated as situational objects by ego and are not ‘internal-
. .

ized’ as constitutive elements of the structure of his personality.”

(SS4)'
i “Cathexis, the attachment to objects which are gratifying and re-

which are noxious. .” (GTA 5)

jection of those . .
THE SOaOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 69

pects of objects are interpreted in terms of shared (cultural) sym-

bols. Indeed the intent in The Social System is to restrict analysis

to systems of interaction of a plurality of individual actors

.

oriented to a situation and where the system includes a commonly

understood system of cultural symbols.” (SS 5) Given such a
symbolic system, tlien, the possibility arises of standards or criteria
by which “selection” is made among the various orientations
possible in a situation; these standards are called values (or “value-
orientation aspects” of action). Corresponding to the three motiva-
tionalmodes, there are cognitive, appreciative, and moral standards.
“Moral” values, in tliis sense, are standards for judging the syn-
thesis of cognitive, cathectic,and evaluative motivationSy together
\vith cognitive and appreciative standards, that issues in concrete
action. Motivations are logically independent of values, e.g., know-
ing an actors cathectic motivation does not permit us to deduce
die appreciative standards he will apply in appraising the cathected
object.
Motivated actors seeking gratifications and oriented to shared
values or standards thus interact in patterned ways. The total ac-
tion system diereby constituted may be thought of as composed of
three interpenetrating and overlapping, but conceptually distinct,
sub-systems: culture, personality, and social systems.*
At die time of The Social System and Working Papers, the cul-
tural system consists of die entire “social heredity” of shared prod-
ucts of social activity-language, ideas, beliefs, values, art, law,
etc.—insofar as these are objects of orientation but not constitutive
of personalities and social interaction patterns. “A cultural system
does not function except as part of a concrete action system, it
just 'is.^” (SS 17) Culture, dien, is a part of an action system only
to die extent that it is “internalized” in personalities or actually
defines appropriate interaction. Otherwise, it is inert—presumably
in die sense that cultural items are transferable from one society to
anodier, put in museums, or treated in a detached way as objects
of intellectual interest, as, for example, Mayan art or ancient Egyp-
tian marriage ceremonies. The cultural system is integrated, to the

^ A fourtli system, the organism, was brought into the scheme at a

later date; see p. 70 below.
70 • Robin M. Willianis, Jr.

extent that in terms of pattern-consistency such as logical

it is,

coherence or aesthetic “style.” The question of how a culture which

does not “act” can be part of a system of “action” turned out to be
somewhat troublesome. It is possible to say that culture “enters
into” action when it becomes “constitutive of’ a system of social
but one is immediately led to wonder what this means
interactions,
and how one could possibly disentangle the cultural from the so-
cial in observed behavior.® More recently Parsons has proposed
tliatthe study of culture as a timeless, pure, “symbol-meaning sys-
tem” belongs to such formal disciplines as logic, aesthetics, and
ethics.f What then remains as part of the theory of action is that
part of culture which has to do with the creation and maintenance
of symbol-meaning systems. The cultural system, in tliis new for-
mulation, thus becomes a sub-system of a total concrete system
of action.
The personality system has its focus in tlie motivational inte-
gration of the socialized human individual. The personality system
is a property of a single living organism.^ Although social relation-
ships are directly a part of this system, the functional problems
differ from those of the social system. A personality must “come
to terms” witlr tire demands and expectations of other persons in
relation to its own unique organismic and other socially idiosyn-
cratic needs. It is, in one aspect, a bundle of “need-dispositions,”
and the focus of integration lies in tlie balancing of tliese needs
against one another, botli momentarily and through time, A social

system, on the other hand, is a network of interactions, and cannot

be predicted from a knowledge of individual personalities taken
one by one. Its focus of integration is the balancing of interactive

J. Levy, Jr., "Some

“ See the concise critique by Marion Questions
About ‘The Concepts of Culture and of Social System,’ ’’ American
Sociological Review, 24, No. 2 (1959), pp. 247-48.
f “A Rejoinder to Ogles and Levy,” American Sociological Review,
24, No. 2 (1959), pp. 249-50.
i Originally Parsons worked
Avith the tlrree systems of society, cul-
ture, and personality. Later, a fourtli system, the organism, was
added. A
psychological system is a system of action characterized by
the fact that all the behavior belonging to it is behavior of the same
living organism. [‘‘An Approach to Psychological Theory in Terms
of the Theory of Action,” in Systematic Theories in Psychology, Sig-
mund Koch, ed. (New York: McGraw-PIill, I960), pp. 612 ff.]
THE SOaOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS * 71

sets— a process wliicli to be “successful” must allow for biological

and personality needs, for cultural integration, and for adaptation
to the physicalworld and the external social environment.
Contrary to the interpretation of some critics of this scheme, we
note that Parsons repeatedly and emphatically calls attention to
"strains” and "inconsistencies” within each of these four analytically
separable systems, and among tliem. The fundamental image dis-

cernable behind the conceptual scheme is that of an energized

neUvork of interactions among goal-seeking personalities, whose
goals and concrete motivations are partly shaped by a shared set of
norms and symbols, and who must cope witlr survival-problems
vis-iVvis tlie physical environment and the actions of other so-
cieties and collectivities. Inherent in social action are tendencies
toward deviance and alienation of individuals, toward inconsist-
encies in cultural patterning, and toward secession, schism, and
conflict in the relations of sub-units of social structure.
It remains true that the main preoccupation of tlie body of
theor)' under examination is to account for order, stability, and
equilibrium rather than for disruptive or violent change. The basic
model from which analysis departs is that of a boundary-maintain-
ing system in which small changes are counteracted in such a way
as to restore the prior state of aflEairs, or else to produce “orderly”
change (presumably, gradual and nonviolent). In tire microscopic
case of ego-alter relations, the point of departure is a relation in
which there is exact mutual comprehension of meanings, full com-
plementarity of expectations, consensus upon standards of evalua-
tions, and optimal mutual gratification. It must be said that such
relations do find approximate empirical embodiments, as in Aris-
totle’s “true friendship,” in certain cases of romantic love, in the
serenit}' of spouses who have experienced a long and happy mar-

riage— or in the [Link] mutuality of strong and well-matched op-

ponents in games or foes in combat. In the perfectly integrated
complete reciprocal conformity is induced in four
relationship,
ways; (I) ego and alter act in such manner as to gratify directly
specific need-dispositions of tire other; (2) the actions of each are
instrumentally useful to tire otlrer in the attainment of
still other

goals; (3) because of tire internalization of shared values, con-

formity to the legitimate expectations and demands of the other
72 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

person is directly gratifying in its own right; (4) because of so-

cialized sensitivity to the attitudes of others toward oneself, the
approval and esteem elicited from the other person through “con-
forming” behavior is directly rewarding.
Interaction involves a “double contingency”: the satisfaction of
ego’s needs is contingent upon the actions of alter, but alters ac-
tions are to a large extent shaped by tlie actions of ego in the first

place. For tliere to be dependability in tire tv^o-way flow of gratifi-

cations, each party must be able, to some important degree, to
“predict” (anticipate) the relevant actions of the other. It is in

this connection that common values play a crucial part; predicta-

bility is facihtated by shared commitment to cognitive, appreciative,
and moral standards. These “norms” help to specify the goals to be
sought, the means to be employed, and the permissible direct
gratifications to be obtained within tire immediate relationship.
Thus, at the deepest levels of personality and in the most ele-
mentary forms of interaction. Parsons seeks to resolve the Hobbesian
problem of order in society by postulating interlocking “interests”
in need-gratification which are, at tlie same time partly defined by,
and integrated with, mutually held criteria of evaluation.
A word must be said at this point concerning two aspects of
“moral” values which appear in this argument. The first refers to
those evaluative standards in terms of which the personality sys-
tem is integrated (“ego-integrative” moral values), that is, the
standards utilized to choose among various cognitive and cathectic
possibilities to sustain an optimal flow of gratifications through
time. But each personality is deeply involved with others and its
ego-integrative “solutions” must, in the social system, confront the
problem of compatibility with the solutions attempted by alters
with whom ego interacts. Hence the personality-integrative moral
values are not sufficient to cope with the realistic exigencies of a
functioning social system. Tliis second aspect of the problem has
been summarized by William L. Kolb.

Although certain areas of such a social system can be integrated

through orientation to instrumental standards and appreciative
standards governing shared orientations toward means and ends
on the one hand, and ordered series of gratifications on the
other, the over-all integration of tlie system can be obtained only
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 73

by mutual orientatioii toward shared moral value-standards.

These values perform the function for the social system that
personality-integrative values perform for personality. They de-
fine a mode of social-system integration both as an ideal, and
at the actual organizational level, as a sanctioned achievable
end. Further, they define ideal and expected rights and obliga-
tions of the actors in their direct relations with one another, and
they control and limit the range of private ends and the means
used to achieve them insofar as such means and ends impinge
on tlie integration of the social system.*^

. As soon as we turn from

tlie elementary social act to a considera-

tion of the social system as such we confront the problem of choos-

ing a "unit"' witli which to begin analysis. Parsons says: for . .

most purposes of the more macroscopic analysis of social systems

... it is convenient to make use of a higher order unit tlian the
act, namely the status-role as it will here be called. Since a social
system is a system of processes of interaction between actors, it is

the structure of the relations between the actors which is es-

. . .

sentially the structure of the social system. The system is a network

of such relationships.” (SS 25) The status is the location of the
actor; the role is what he does in that position, in aspects significant
for die system of relationsliip. Status consists of the rights and obli-
gations of ego seen as a social object by others; role consists of ego
performance as subject in reacting to the actions directed toward
him as an "occupant” of a status. Role is defined in terms of norma-
tive expectations: it is integrated with a particular set of
, ,

value standards which govern interaction with one or more alters

in the appropriate complementary roles.” (SS 38-39) Since each
person occupies a number of diJfferent statuses, the organized sys-
tem of statuses and roles referable to liim as an individual consti-
tutes the social actor. Systems of statuses abstracted from social
actors may be combined into collectivities, which are partial so-
cial systems to which actors have a definite obligation of solidarity

(“responsibility” for maintaining and defending die aggregate).

(SS 41, 97-101) A complex social system is to be regarded as a,

network of collectivities side by side, overlapping and larger-

*
‘‘The Changing Prominence of Values/' in Howard Becker and
Alvin Boskoff, e^., Modem Sociological Theory (New York: The
Dryden Press, 1957), p. 116,
74 Robin M. Williams, Jr.

smaller.” (SS 101) Each collectivity is a system of concretely inter-

active specific roles.
Before going on to show further how single roles are built into
networks and sub-systems, we must return to the step-by-step con-
struction of interrelated concepts, so characteristic of the whole
body of work under examination.
From the perspective of the maintenance or change of a social
system, reciprocal role-behavior may be regarded as a pattern of
social control. This is true not only because the acts of a role-
partner may be useful or disadvantaging to us in terms of the pos-
sibility we desire apart from the
of attaining specific goals which
immediate content of the relationship. It is true also in a more
direct way: just to the degree that we have developed “sensitivity”
to the attitudes of others, their approval or disapproval of our spe-
cific behavior, and especially of us as total personalities, will be
rewarding or punishing— and this quite apart from whether their
acts toward us were intended to have this significance.- It is in this
light that any role-behavior may be regarded as a sanction. Sanc-
tions, in fact, are defined as role-expectationsseen in terms of their
gratificational significance, asrewards or punishments. ( SS 38 ) *
Given that there are statuses occupied by actors holding re-
ciprocal role-expectations, involving shared value-standards, we
are quickly led to the still more complex notion of institution which
is “. made up of a plurality of interdependent role-patterns or
. .

components of them.” An institution is a couiplex of institutionalized

“role-integrates” (or “status-relationships”) “. . . which is of stra-
tegic structural significance in the social system in question.” (SS
39) An institution is thus a pattern of rights and obligations or-
ganized around some functional focus. On the otlier hand, a col-
lectivity is a system of concretely interactive roles, involving senti-

® In passing, we should note the puzzling difficulty of determining

when Parsons is speaking of action as action and when he is referring
to “psychic states” or “attitudes.” The term “role-expectation” seems
particularly difficult to fix firmly in place as meaning either “expecta-
tion” in the sense of a subjective disposition of an actor, or else an
“act of communication” which conveys to alter that ego has a
certain expectation. It is only slightly less difficult to keep in mind
that “expectation” does not mean only passive anticipation but also
includes some quality of active demand. (Cf. SS 5-7.)
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 75

ments of solidarity and sanctioned obligations of responsibility on

the part, of the factor who is a member of that particular system
of interaction. A single institution may appear inmany diflEerent
collectivities, and several different institutions may be found in
one and the same collectivity.
means that action is being guided by shared
Institutionalization
"moral” values that have been "internalized” by social actors in
such a way as to become "genuine need-dispositions of the per-
sonality.” (SS 42) In the theoretical perfect case, conformity to
institutionalized role-expectations brings gratifying responses from
alters, is instrumentally effective, and is a source of direct gratifica-
tion as well. Everyone wants to do that which others want him to
do, and others always act as he expects and wishes: ". the . .

interests of the actors [are] bound to conformity

. . .
with a shared
system of value-orientation standards.” (SS 38) Although such
perfect integration is a limiting case, not found empirically, this
mode of normative integration is to be regarded as fundamental
in all actual social systems. This tying-together of need-dispositions
with values is the point of reference for what Parsons calls the
"sociologistic theorem.” "This integration of a set of common value
patterns with the internalized need-disposition structure of the
constituent personalities is the core phenomenon
of the dynamics
of social systems. That the any social system except
stability of
tlie most evanescent interaction process is dependent on a degree

of such integration may be said to be the fundamental dynamic

theorem of sociology,” (SS 42)
Now, given the fact of institutionalization, we proceed to classify
[Link] are, first of all, the basic relational institutions,
i.e., those which directly define the statuses and roles in the net-

work of interactive relationships. Within relationships so defined,

however, a further problem of normative order arises' because
actors in their pursuit of instrumental, expressive, and ego-inte-
grative (evaluative) interests may
ways that are disruptive
act in
for the functioning of the system of interaction. Here arise regu-
lative institutions which limit the goals sought and tlie means

employed. Tliird, cultural institutions are tliose which concern the

sheer acceptance of patterns of cultural orientation, without com-
mitment to overt action. Presumably the role-patterns in this case
76 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

consist merely of the acceptance of beliefs, expressive symbols, or

moral values in a manner which does not involve any norms for
interaction beyond such acceptance. That it may turn out to be
operationally diflBcult to distinguish “sheer acceptance” from “com-
mitment for action” is suggested by Parsons’ admission that ac-
ceptance may lead to commitment, as when subscription to a . ,

system of belief becomes a criterion of loyalty to a collectivity,

such as a religious group.” (SS 56)
At tins point, then, we have a classification of motivations, of
value-orientations, of culture patterns, of interests, of evaluative
action-orientations (instrumental, expressive, and moral), and of
institutions. Parsons now asks how we may analyze the basic al-

ternatives of an actor in defining his relationship to an alter, and

chooses to focus upon “. . . tlie collectivity-integrative sub-type of
tlie moral type of evaluative action-orientation.” (SS 59) The an-
swer to tlie question consists of the five “pattern-variables”* already
well described in Devereux’s discussion {supra, p. 38). As noted
in that chapter, the pattern-variables have been vfidely utilized
in sociological codifications, interpretations, and first hand research.
It remains to be demonstrated that the listing is “exliaustive,”
even at its chosen level of generality, and the exact denotation of
the terms remains to be fully estabhshed. It is not an easy task to
translate the concepts into specific indicators, and it may well be
that the concepts vdll have to be modified in tlieir adaptations to
research utilization.
In a recent effort to give operational meaning to the concept
of specificity-diffuseness in a study of friendship patterns in a sub-
urban community, it appeared that the pattern-variable refers to
two partly separable aspects of the norms governing an interper-
sonal relationship. Taking the description given in Toward a Gen-
eral Tlieonj of Action, for example, we find tliat diflruseness is rep-

resented by the role-expectation tliat the actor

. . . any potential significance of a social

will accept object, in-
cluding obligation to it, which is compatible with his other

“ “Pattern-variables” because the reference is to normative patterns

each of which varies along a continuum from one polar opposite to the
other.
. !

THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS 77

interests and obligations, and that he will give priority to this

expectation over any disposition to confine the role-orientation
to a specific range of significance of the object. On the other
side, specificity is defined by an expectation that the actor ^viIl
be oriented to the social object only within a specific range of
significance and will give priority to this orientation as over
against any disposition to include other aspects of significance
not already specifically defined in the expectation pattern.
It appears that specificity has two aspects: (1) whether ex-
pectations as to rights and obligations are highly restricted or
relatively unlimited; (2) whether die rights and obligations are
, clearly defined or not. Note the following statement:

The rights of a social object with respect to ego are either defined
(so tliat ego and alter know the limits of ego's obligations) or they
are undefined (so that ego must render to Ster much of his efforts
as are left over when ml of his other obligations are met), Tire
social object, that is, either has specific (segmental) significance for
ego (in which case obligations are clearly defined); or it has diffuse
significance (in which case obligations are only limited by odier
oNigations )

In this case we are forced to make a further distinction “within

the definition of the pattern-variable. As we began to construct
intemew questions aimed at the diffuseness-specificity aspect of
friendship, we found that some items seemed to index width of
range of significance, whereas others dealt with the explicitness
of definition of rights and obligations. For example, respondents
were asked whedier in their relationship with their one best
friend in the residential area, the friend shoxdd feel free to dis-
cuss intimate personal matters. The question asks about range
of intimate topics.

Explicitness Range of significance of social object

of Normative
Definition
Narrow Wide
1

Explicitly PABSONS: 1
Example: "We discuss
"Specificity" anything except reli-
i

gion and politics."

Left Example: Loan money PARSONS;

Undefined \vithout specifying re- "Diffiiseness”
payment

On the other hand, a question could deal with a narrow area

of interests and direct itself to the explicitness of obligations.
78 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

e.g., a question concerning the functionally specific action of

loaning money when the debtor is defined as a friend. . .

The become a major basis for classifying social

pattern-variables
systems as wholes and for analyzing social roles ( e.g., the medical
doctor) in The Social System, and later for characterizing phases
of action in group processes, in the Working Papers, and in Fam-
ily,Socialization and Interaction Process. Of all the components
of the Parsonian scheme tliey have been most often noted and
used by other social scientists. The categories have developed in
Parsons’ thinking over an extended period; universahsm and par-
ticularism, for example, were already prominent at the time of
The Structure of Social Action (cf. pp. 547-551), having been
drawn originally from Max Weber’s analyses of world religions
from F. Toennies’ Qemeinschaft und Gesellschaft (cf. sa. 686-694).
Having been formulated partly out of an interest in die compara-
tive study of institutions,! the pattern-variables are especially
likely in Parsons’ work to be turned to comparisons of social struc-
tures. At the same time, however, they are extensively employed
to characterize specific role-structures.
With the formulations just reviewed, we may turn to focus upon
relational institutions—regarded as the core of the social system-
in order to show howtypes of action-orientations, roles, institutions,
and constitutive values are combined in sub-systems of societies.
Although a rather complex set of distinctions have been re-
viewed thus far, the conceptual scheme is due to unfold much
further. The process of development is that of setting forth suc-
cessively closer approximations to concrete social structures and
processes.
In the first place, given the universahty of kinship units and the
space-bound limitations of social living, there necessarily arise
ascriptive and diffuse territorial groupings called communities.
Assuming the emergence of distinctive cultural characterictics

* R. M. Williams, Jr. et ah. Friendship and Social Values in a Sub-

urban Community (University of Oregon, 1956), pp. 30-32. ^

f In a course offered by Parsons on “Comparative Social

Institutions

in the late 1930’s, most of the current distinctions were already in

of
use, plus a rationalism-traditionalism polarity, later dropped out
the set.
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 79

shared among a number of kinship units language or reli-

gion), "intergroup’" contact leads to a "liorizontar’ aggregating of

At the same time we vdW find
these units into ethnic collectivities.
that kinship units are not all valued or ranked identically; sys-
tematic differences in prestige arise and a rank-order of social
classes emerges; each "class” is an aggregate of kinship units of
roughly equivalent rank. These four structural components will be
found in every self-subsistent society.
Social differentation may occur also in tlie direction of tlie segre-
gation of specialized, functionally specific roles out of the diffuse
matrix of kinship and communities. A very important development
of tliis kind consists of the elaboration of chains of instrumental
acts involving tlie transfer of valued objects and services in trans-
actions of "mutual advantage.” In "economy” of transfers, as
tliis

roles become more specialized and numerous, a true exchange

system can arise, in which direct reciprocity witliin a solidary col-
lectivity gives way to a situation in which ego may be remunerated
from one source, have his produce used by another party, secure
productive facilities from a third, and cooperate with still others
process— all these relationships being divorced to
in tlie productive
an important extent from purely ascriptive rights and obligations.
The existence of such a circular flow of relatively "free” transfers
necessitates a pressure toward) some com-
(or, at least, creates
monly accepted ground rules governing access to facilities, control
of possessions, terms of settlement of exchange, and differential
rewards (remuneration). Broadly speaking, these rules constitute
"economic institutions.”
A second major line of differentiation concerns the acquisition
and exercise of power in society, particularly of coercion and
physical force witliin a particular territory. More generally, there
are the functional problems of resolving conflicts, compromising
differing interests, and integrating divergent values within a social
system made up of differentiated units. The "control of power,” in
one major aspect, is tlie area of political institutionalization. ^Vhereas
economic "power” is additive (a matter of having more and more
units of control over facilities, possessions, and remuneration), polit-
ical power is inherently hierarchical; it is a matter of power over
lesser power. Parallel to tlie relational system involved in instru-
80 • Robin M. M^illiams, Jr.

mental actions is a set of institutionalized rights in “relational

possession,” i.e,, a system of regulated expressive actions. Corre-
sponding, by analogy, to “facilities” is an appropriate context for
expression; in place of “disposal of product” in the instrumental
case, we now have “receptiveness” of alters; for “remuneration” we
read “responsiveness”; “cooperation” is replaced by “expressive
loyalty.”
Even estabhshed instrumental and expressive systems, in-
xvith
stitutionalized in a network of roles, there remains a problem
“. . of estabhsliing the patterns of order both within the instru-
.

mental and the expressive complexes respectively, and between

them, since every actor must have relationsliips of both types.”
(SS 80) Ego-integrative solutions for each actors unique person-
ahty and relational systems are not enough to account for moral
integration or order in the social system as such.
This problem is approached by a complex classification of pos-
sible combinations of the pattern-variables, as related to tlie fusion
or segregation of instrumental and expressive interests, and fol-
lowed by a description of “the modalities of objects as foci of role-
expectation.” The simply to the major characteristics
latter refers
of alters by which they are defined and classified in interaction,
e.g., sex, age, physical traits, territorial location, status classes or
categories, membership in a collectivity. Achievement criteria of
object-selection, on the other hand, refer to actual expected, spe-
cific performance. Acliievement is necessarily judged by universal-

istic standards, although of course there can be successful per-

formance in the service of particularistic values; achievement for a

collectivity is tied to social relations, but given the goal, success
may be judged in universahstic terms.
Having thus reviewed (1) types of orientation of actor as ego
(e.g., combinations of neutrality, universalism, specificity), and
( 2) orientations ( in terms of ascription-achievement)
to social ob-
jects, we must as our next step see what implications may be drawn

from self vs. collectivity orientations. The starting point is tlie

observation that tliere can be a sharing of cognitive standards of

communication or appreciative standards governing expressive
symbols without a sufficient sharing ofmoral orientations to con-
stitute a collectivity. The important point is whether tliere is agree-
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS * 81

ment of the members on what actions are “required” in the interests

of keeping the system going (e.g. accepting military conscription,

paying taxes, spending time in faculty committees). Conformity to
collectivity-demands takes two forms: (1) loyalty, which is a “spill-
ing over” of motivation to conform, beyond institutionalized obli-
gations, and (2) solidarity, which is an obligation; it is demanded
and sanctioned, whether one “spills over” or not.
Collectivities may be classified according to whether they are
predominantly characterized by primacy of expressive or of instru-
mental interests: the familiar dichotomy of Gemeinschaft vs. Gesell-

schaft. Collectivities may also be classified according to their modal

or typical combinations of primacies of die pattern-variables.
The main functional problems of any social system are those of
integration and allocation (adaptation). The ways in which these
problems become focal points of institutionalization may be shown
by returning to the “economic” and “political” sectors already
briefly noted. Because a social system is made up of differentiated
roles, there must be an allocation of roles and of persons among

roles. Supposing this allocation to be accomplished, there is still

the problem of allocating facilities and rewards, both of wliich

are possessions, i.e., bundles of rights which are transferable be-
tween actors. Given transferability and scarcity, an orderly ex-
change economy depends upon at least three basic conditions: 1)
the development of processes of settlement of terms in an extended
system of differentiated roles; 2) high development of universal-
istic norms; 3) institutional control of the most drastic means of

exercising power. It follows that economic and political orders are

inherently interdependent, although conceptually distinguishable.
The extension of “economic” activities depends upon the insulation
of exchange relationships from diffuse and particularistic structures
,
and upon the limitation of force, fraud, and certain other disruptive
factors. Although all control of productive facilities and of rewards
is “power,” this power is specific and strictly limited in scope.

Political power, on the contrary, is generalized and diffuse: it is

“capacity to control the relational system as a system,” and oper-
ates directly on specific relational-sets, arranged in hierarchical or
concentric systems upon systems. The irreducible sub-stratum of
political power is the ability to use force in relation to a territory.
82 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

From a similar analysis of the relational reward system of ex-

pressive action, Parsons identifies approval as specific and affec-
tively neutral evaluation of a specific quality-complex or perform-
ance, and esteem as diffuse and affectively neutral evaluation of
[Link] political power esteem tends toward hierarchical order-
ing, hence constitutes a ranking system of stratification. It will be
noted that by the distinctions just outlined Parsons has decisively
moved “stratification” out of the political and economic orders. Al-
though economic and political power may still affect stratification,
the ranking system itself is conceived as an ordering in terms of
prestige, a diffuse evaluative judgment of alters.
The differentiated sub-systems now outlined are all simultane-
ously operative within collectivities and networks of collectivities
tied together into larger social systems. What are the integrative
foci for these aggregative systems? There is the regulation of allo-
cation of roles and ( and changes
their interrelations ) of
personnel,
and of facilities, rewards, political power, and prestige. The actual
institutionalization of regulation may be in the form of private,
spontaneous sanctions, or of formalized sanctions (which require
the development of “specialized” roles of responsibility).
This completes the main outline of social system components and
their interrelations as set forth in The Social System.^ Parsons
maintains that filling in the categories thus defined “. . . with the
requisite detail of properly conceptualized statements of empirical
fact will constitute an adequate description of a concrete social
system, the amotmt of detail required depending on the problem.”
(SS 138)
Up to now, we have mainly seen only tlie structural part of the
scheme, and that only in bare and abstract form. Some further
insight into what is being attempted perhaps may be gained by
a quick review of the application of tliescheme to the description
of some aspects of “internal differentiation and comparative vari-
ability to types of social structure.” (SS 151) For reasons of brevity
I shall present only a few illustrations of this application, in tlie

form of an annotated outline.

1. Kinship. Out of a very large number of possible combinations

“ See SS 136-137, 142-159 for a convenient suminaiy.

THE SOaOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 83

of elements, only a very few are actually used in kinship systems.

Cliild-care and status-ascription of infants always attach to kinship
units; there is always an incest taboo; kinsliip roles are always

diflhise and collecti\dty oriented. The ubiquity and persistence of

Idnship units vdih these characteristics suggest that these particular

clusterings result from powerful and universal forces.
2. Instrumental achievement and stratification. With specializa-
tion and acliievement-emphasis, a high degree of division of labor
results in a \vide range of evaluated ''competence.” Instrumental
role-differentiation requires organization; organization leads to roles
with different degrees of “responsibility.” These differences “require”
differential access to and control of facilities. And tliis signifies
differential rewards. Ergo: equality of reward is highly improbable
in a complex dmsion of labor. And because of tlie functional
characteristics of kinship, differential advantages tend to be passed
on to children,
3. Territoriality, force, and the integration of the 'power system.
For reasons already stated, power easily becomes tlie focus of dis-
ruptive conflicts. Some regulation of drastic means of power is
essential to the maintenance of a social system, although the land
and effectiveness of tliis control of power varies enonnously.
In a striking summary Parsons says: “We may conclude, then,
tliat where there is almost unrestricted freedom to resort
societies
to force, and above all where several agencies with independent
control of organized force operate wthin die same territorial area,
are as rare as societies where without any
cliildren are socialized
reference to kinship relations or where the reward system is in
inverse relation to the graduations of competence and responsibility
in tlie principal areas of valued achievement.” (SS 163)
4. Religion and value-integration. Religion may be
conceived as,
in part, one response to the problems of death, of imperfect control
of the physical world, of malintegration of society ( the agonizing
impact of “undeserved suffering” and “unpunished behavior”). The
beliefs and expressive symbols which are concerned with these

problems must bear some definite relation to the “dominant” system

of [nonreligious?] institutionalized values. Organized religion^ -

especially, cannot wholly divorce itself from “secular” social struck

hn'es and processes.
84 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

Without going further into other illustrations, such as the analysis

in terms of pattern-variables of principal types of social structures,
it is necessary to turn to the place of process in the structure.
A
process is tlie waywhich a change from one state of a system
in
to anotlier occurs; a mechanism is just a process looked at in terms
of the significance of its effects upon the system or some part of it.
For instance, what is learning in the personality becomes socializa-
tion of the person in the social system.** Personality defenses (deal-
ing with conflicts of need-dispositions) and adjustments (dealing
with strains and conflicts in relation to objects ) appear in the social
system as problems of deviance and social control. For example:
“A mechanism of social control, then, is a motivational process in
one or more individual actors which tends to counteract a tendency
to deviance from tlie fulfillment of role-expectations, in liimself or
in one or more alters.” (SS 206)
The basic learning processes are discrimination and generaliza-
tion. Tlrrough these, tlrere are built up five types of cathectic-
evaluative mechanisms, viz.: (1) reinforcement-extinction (the
strength of the tendency to repeat an action); (2) inhibition (to
refrain from gratification); (3) substitution (transfer of cathexis);
(4) imitation (taking over specific items from a model); (5) iden-
tification (internalizing the values of a model). Parallel to reinforce-
ment-extinction are reward and punishment as social mechanisms;
parallel to imitation is instruction; the social counterpart of identi-
fication is attachment.
Great importance is given, in this scheme, to early attachments,
wliich are held to be necessarily specific and affective initially, grow-
ing into diffuse relations, e.g., to the motlier. The early diffuse attach-
ments constitute tlie child’s security system, but by the same token
constitute marked dependency. How is dependency broken through?
Speaking very generally, the answer is that the child witliin a
“normal” diffuse love attachment develops a tolerance for frustra-

tion which makes it possible for the socializing agents to guide

him toward affective neutrality, universalism, acliievement orienta-
tion, and functional (SS 219) This movement,
specificity. it is

favored by adequate security, imposition of disci-

hypothesized, is

^
Although not all learning is '"^socialization/'
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 85

plines, peiniissiveness for adjustive responses evoked by frustration,

and use of rewards, especially relational rewards. It is further
hypothesized that the order of diflBculty in learning evaluative
moral orientations from affectivity to neutrality, from particu-
is

laristic to universalistic, from affective specificity to diffuseness.

Further: “The orientation element, which is most difficult to acquire
and which in a sense depends on the most complex set of pre-
requisite conditions, is, at least under certain types of strain, likely
to be the first to break down.” (SS 226) In the analysis of social
systems it is of great importance to know tlie specific modes of
socialization and the strains they engender, as well as to identify
the ways in which different social structures lead to different con-
sequences in personality processes.
Furthermore, in socialization . the combination of value-
,

orientation patterns which is acquired must in a very impoiiant

degree he a function of the fundamental role structure and domi-
nant values of the social system'" (SS 227) To the extent that this
supposition is ti*ue, social systems will exliibit a modal basic per-
sonality structure, which nevertlieless is subject to considerable
diversity. The variation or diversity means that we cannot infer
directly from basic personality to social system. Rather we must
go on to look for capacities of individuals for “rational adaptations”
to varying situations, for additional mechanisms of socialization,
and mechanisms of social conti’ol. Parsons emphasizes the
for*
multiple and complex sources of variations in the social outcomes
of socialization and personality mechanisms, tlie existence of alter-
native role-oppoi*tunities and of ranges of tolerance for deviation.
Furtliermore, he attaches great importance to situational specificity
in which the generalized need-dispositions and values of the

personality ai*e defined in detail, often differing markedly from

what would have been predicted from *T)asic personality structure”
alone.
These considerations lead to an extended discussion of deviance
and mechanisms of social control. Tliis far-ranging and often pene-
trating and perceptive analysis is too extended for detailed review,
here. It is important to note, however, tliat tliroughout his dis-

cussions of conformity and deviance. Parsons stresses the variability

of individuals’ responses to social demands, the continuous “veering
86 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

oflE-course” of social actors from tlie cultural blueprint. He sees

this recalcitrance to conformity arising from constitutional differ-
ences among individuals, idiosyncratic learning, unique status-role
combinations, and from several other sources. It is possible, how-
ever, that tlie very model used to depict conformity tends to deflect
attention away from some of the important sources of mal-
integration. For example, it has been suggested that relations of
complementarity—in which ego’s rights correspond to alters duties
or alters rights correspond to ego’s duties—may be subject to
endemic strain because of the diflBculty of “equating” exchanges of
gratifications and because of the high likelihood of "egoistic” tenden-
cies on the part of the interacting parties.® Or, again, tlie basic
ego-alter model in the Parsonian scheme does not dhectly take
into account differences in power, in the sense of unequal capacities
to control the relationship, which may and do make crucial differ-
ences in the character of the interaction.f Still a third possible
source of deviation from a non-problematic state of balanced com-
plementarity would be of importance should it turn out that
successive acts of conformity in a series of interactions have decreas-
ing reward-value. In that case, clearly, the longer the conformity-
series,the less tlie potency of each successive act of conformity by
alter in inducing reciprocal confoimity' by ego. Here, as in many
other instances of Parsonian formulations, a great deal of rigorous
research will be required to establish the degree to which tlie
abstract model— estalilished as an ideal type or limiting case—
usefully approximates empirical conditions. J
With the discussion of deviance and social control we have at

hand most of the “elements” of the model of a functioning social

°
Alvin W. Gouldner, “The Norm of Reciprocity: A Preliminary
Statement,” American Sociological Review, 25, No. 2 (1960), pp.
172-173. For complementarity to be maintained under these condi-
tions, Gouldner argues, a basic norm of reciprocity is necessary,
over
and above mutual reinforcement to coriformity through mutual meet-
ings of expectations and exchange of expedient rewards,
f For a careful exploration of this feature of interaction, see Harold
Kelley and John W. Thibault, The Social Psychology of Groups (New
York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 1959).
} Cf. a related example of empirical rechecking in
Eugene Lit\yak,
“Occupational Mobility and Extended Family Gohesion,” American
Sociological Review, 25, No. 1 (1960), pp. 9-21.
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEOBY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 87

system. Yet, even in The Social System alone, one finds in addition:

(1) an elaborate analysis of belief systems (distinguishing several

important types, ranging from empirical science to religion); (2)
a. lengthy discussion of e-xpressive symbols; (3) a case study of
medical practice; (4) an analysis of social change; (5) an excursus
on tlie nature and interrelations of die sciences dealing with human
action. It is impossible here to summarize all of this material, let
alone to go into die extensive revisions, extensions, and elaborations
of the basic scheme wliich have appeared in later publications.
However, because of the tendency of commentators to point
especially to the structural, static, and equilibrium-maintenance
emphases of the theoretical scheme, it seems desirable to touch
at least upon die discussion of social change.
The exq)osition departs from a distinction between processes
within a social system and processes of change of the system itself.

The treatment of the first set of processes has been based on die
theoretical assumption (not an empirical generalization) that there
is a non-problematic equilibrium of a boundary'-maintaining system,

in which interaction is assumed to tend toward stabilization of

mutual orientations. Under these assumptions, die problem for
analysis is that of showing how equilibrium is maintained. Hence,
die emphasis is upon processes of sociahzation and mechanisms
of social control.
In die absence of full knowledge of die laws of process within
the system, structural-functional tiieorj' “impounds” certain con-
stancies of pattern into structural categories and then asks how
these constancies are maintained or altered, and how functional
“imperatives” limit die range of variation. Motivational processes
are “put together” vwdi structural factors to give descriptions of
processes of change widiin the system, e.g., knowledge of family
structure is combined widi knowledge of identification processes
to predict the development of “dewant” behavior.
It is maintained, however, tiiat a general theory of processes of

change of social systems is not possible in die present state of

knowledge; instead we can aim for dieories of particular sub-
processes. For the most part these dieories, as here considered, will
not deal witii biological or physical factors, which fall outside the
“action” schema.
88 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

A general phenomenon in social change is the resistance derived

from vested from tlie integration of need-disposi-
interests, arising
tions witli culture patterns. Such interests concern maintaining . .

tlie gratifications involved in an established system of role-expecta-

tions. . (SS 492) Except for institutionalized change, e.g.,

.

scientific research, change can occur only through mechanisms

for overcoming the resistance based on vested interests.
On the other side, the sources of impetus of change may be a
change in the genetic constitution of a population, in the physical
environment, in the development of a cultural complex (science,
religion), in technology, or in the “. .
.
progressive increase of
strains inone strategic area of the social structure. There is , .

no one invariant or predominant source of change.

To analyze change, one should: (1) identify the sources of
change; (2) identify the vested interests likely to be affected, or
more broadly, describe tlie initial state of the system; (3) specify
what has changed into what and through what intermediate stages;
(4) analyze tlie impact of change on "functional imperatives,” such
as motivation, control of power, moral integration of the reward
system, or cultural pattern-consistency. It is highly important to
trace the multiple consequences of change through the system,
paying attention to complicated “feedback” effects upon the original
process of change. Many fairly detailed examples of this procedure
are found in Parsons’ writings, e.g., the analysis of the impacts of
technological change, or of charismatic revolutionary movements.
The merit claimed for this approach is that changes can be located
in relation to the detailed morphology of a social system, and the
repercussions meticulously traced through tlie structure and back
to the original point of impact. We may add tliat such a systematic
inventory also opens tlie possibility of detecting indirect, reciprocal,
and “mediated” effects among various parts of the system.
At the most general level. Parsons attempts to show that the
direction of change in social systems cannot depend on the grati-
fication-balance of individual actors. Frustration and deprivation
because of a discrepancy between ideal pattern and actuality can
be important in a shift from one system to another, but, it is said,

cannot account for a continued development in a given direction.

This point is asserted ivithout demonstration. Evidently it depends

THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS * 89

upon the assumption that tliere is not a type of social system most
nearly suited to universal human needs, toward which movement
might occur hy successive approximations to an “ideal fit,” For
Parsons, tliere a diversity of systems in which no one type is
is

clearly superior from the standpoint of optimal gratification of

individuals. “Directionahty” is to be sought, rather, in the cultural
system. Following Max Weber, it is assumed tliat there is an
inherent process of rationalization in belief systems which proceeds
in the direction of greater rationahty, unless impeded or reversed
by forces arising from tlie exigencies of adaptation of personalities
and social systems. This “tendency” is not an empirically observ-
able trend; it may be compared to a potential but obstructed in-
crease of entrophy. The directionality posited in belief systems is

not assumed to hold for [Link] symbolism, which is not cumula-

tive but is unique to particular historical configurations.
In the discussion of social change, then, we find the now familiar
image of the patterning of tlie behavior of striving, motivated per-
sonalities within an interactive web that is in part channelized and
defined by cultural values, beliefs, and expressive symbols, and is

anchored in the imperatives of biological nature and physical

environment. The total “system” is never at rest; it is always being
pushed, prodded and keel-hauled; it is ahvays subject to strains
and conflicts. Behind this relatively concrete image stands the
abstract model of a boundary-maintaining system, “tending” toward
equilibrium, at all levels from the exact mutuality of role-expecta-
tions between individual actors, to the ego-integration of the
personality to tlie pattern-consistency of culture.
In this connection, a basic question concerning social systems
and sub-systems concerns the [Link] to wdiich, for purposes of
analysis and prediction, tliey can be considered “closed.” Our solar
system is so far removed from otlier bodies tliat in Newtonian
mechanics the movements of the planets can be calculated without
significant reference to masses outside tlie system, i.e., it is a
“closed system.” Many physical systems are closed. In an open
system, on tlie otlier hand, tlie values of die variables defining
internal processes are more or less strongly affected by e,xtra-system
variables. It undoubtedly reasonable to regard a liiing organism
is

as a real system. But Imng organisms are to an important [Link]

90 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

open to extra-system influences—indeed, tlie organism is involved

in continuous processes of exchange with its environment so long
as it is “alive” at all. The organism can be made a closed system
for purposes of scientific theory just to the extent tliat it is possible
to include, in predictions or postdictions about a state of tlie system,
complete calculations of the influence of extra-system conditions,
i.e., “boundary conditions.” Social systems are, for the most part,

highly open systems. Much of the difficulty of making specific

social predictions arises from the numerous unmeasured “external”
forces which continually impinge upon the particular system we
have in view. Furthermore, “. it is easy to exaggerate tlie con-
. .

crete orderliness of modern complex societies, in all their decisive

political and military turmoils, and this tendency is furtlier encour-
aged just to the extent that research focuses on enduring groups
and upon massive formal structures. The implied challenge here
is only to incorporate more fully and cleaidy in our theory and our

research the study of such matters as discontinuities in communica-

tion, of fluid and rapidly changing situations, of pro-normless col-
lective behavior, of misunderstandings and lack of symmetry in
social roles. Our world is full of crisis-conditioned, imperfectly
sti'uctured relationsliips among persons and collectivities, under
such conditions of rapid and massive change tliat we may require
*
ideas more novel tlian ‘equilibrium’ to understand them.”
Although change and tension are integral and important emphases
in Parsons’ thinking, it remains true that the conceptual scheme
centers in the concept of equilibrium, and that the primary focus
of attention upon problems of integration. Very different emphases
is

are possible, and may lead to different and important empirical

conclusions. To take only one recent example, the wmrk of Ralf
Dahrendorf clearly points up the difference between an equilibrium
model of a functionally integrated social system, on tlie one hand,
and a model in wliich the social system is analyzed in terms of
coercion and conflict, on die other.f Although both approaches deal

® Robin M. Williams, Jr., “Continuity and Change in Sociological

Study,” American Sociological Review, 23, No. 6 (1958), pp. 629-30.
California:
1 Class and Class Conflict in Industrial Society ( Stanford,
Stanford University Press, 1959).
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEOBX OF TALCOTT PABSONS • 91

with important aspects of actual societies, and are certainly not

mutually exclusive, each is subject to severe limitations and can
easily lead to systematic distortion.

ni. RESEARCH APPLICATIONS

EflForts to utilize portions of the Parsonian schema in ob-

servational and experimental studies have begun to test its opera-
tional usefulness in research. In addition to the work of R. Freed
Bales in collaboration with Parsons, an increasing number of widely
scattered studies have made direct use of Parsonian concepts. In
the Kansas City Study of Adult Life, a very interesting attempt has
been made to describe the interaction style of middle-aged, aging,
and aged persons in terms of two of the pattern-variables: specificity-
difFuseness and affectivity-neutrahty,*^ The dominant style of inter-
action of ^'approval seekers’" is specific and neutral; of “total accept-
ance seekers/’ diffuse and affective. The investigators then secured
indices of actual orientations as over against preferred^ orientations.
Operational measures were devised for classifying persons in tliese
ways, and satisfactory reliability of the indices was demonstrated.
The investigators were able to show tliat:

1. Men are far more likely than women to have a specific and
neutral interaction pattern; men are somewhat more Likely than
women to prefer diffuse neutrality, whereas women are more
likely tlian men to prefer diffuse affectivity.
2. “Goodness of fit” between actual and preferred orientations
correlates significantly with independent measures of “morale.’’
3. Preference for diffuse affectivity drops sharply after age 70,
whereas preference for both specific-affectiwiy and diffuse-neu-
trality rises markedly. Tins change appears to involve a slougliing
off of diffuse familial obligations and a greater emphasis upon
botli specific gratifications and generalized moral esteem.

® Elaine Gumming, Lois R. Derm, DavidS. Newell, "Wiat is 'Mo-

rale*;^ A Case Study of a Valiity Problem,” unpublished paper
92 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

<^The Parsonian formulations have influenced such studies of

role conflict as tliose of Toby, Sloulfer,
and Getzels and Cuba.®
The substantial monograph of Gross, Mason, and McEachem is
permeated by discerning and critical utilization of ideas drawn
from The Social Syslem.f^
In a study of friendship choices in relation to similarity and
dissimilarity of values, the pattern-variables were used to index
“friendship.” :j; Although this was an exploratory study, used as
a research-training exercise, and altliough the measures were
crude, the results of the attempt to give operational specifications
of friendship interms of the pattern-variables represent an advance
over methods previously used in research on this subject.
These few examples are representative of a larger number of
studies in which Parsonian concepts are being employed. In addi-
tion, of course, the scheme has exerted substantial influence upon
and interpretation such as those by B. Barber,
xvorks of analysis
E. Devereu.x, K. Davis,W. J. Goode, H. M. Johnson, M. Lev}^
R. K, Merton, \V. E. Moore, R. Williams, L. Wilson, and many
others.

IV. EVALUATION

In the beginning let us dispense -witli those criticisms

which concern the style of presentation of the conceptual scheme.
We readily grant tliat neologisms abound, tliat sentences sometimes
appear to be literal translations of a text originally written in

® Jackson Toby, “Some Variables in Role Conflict Analysis,” Social

Forces, 30 (1952), pp. 323-327. Samuel A. Slouffer, “An Analysis of
Conflicting Social Norms,” American Sociological Review, 14 (1949),
Conflict
pp. 707-717; Samuel A. Stouffer and Jackson Toby, “Role
and Personality,” American Journal of Sociology, 55 (1951), pp. 395-
406. J. W. Getzels and E. G. Cuba, "Role, Role Conflict and Effec-
tiveness,” American Sociological Review, 19 (1954), pp. 164-175.
t Neal Gross, Ward S. Mason, and Alexander W. McEacbem,
Ex-
plorations in Role Analysis (New York: John Wiley & Sons, Inc.,
1958). . ^ ,

t Robin M. Williams, Jr., “Friendship and Social Values in a Sub-

urban Community; An Exploratory Study,” The Pacific Sociological
Review, 2, No. 1 (1959), pp. 3-10.
.

THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 93

German, that die style is complex, that the use of terms is not
always consistent, and that some passages still defy comprehension
after repeated and earnest scrutiny. Neverdieless, there is an intel-
lectual content which can be grasped, and it is that content in
which we are interested.

.
^^he Parsonian ‘‘system” is not a unified deductive system^Vhen
it is said diat a certain concept is “derived from” a previously
defined concept, it is only rarely that a strict logical derivation is

found.^lore usually die new concept is (1) a connotative deriva-

tive, wnich is developed by explicidy defining a connotation of the

original notion, or (2) a linking term which is introduced between

two concepts, or (3) a concept derived by a cross-tabulation of
independently defined constructs, or (4) a term developed to talk
about, phenomena empirically associi^ted with die referents of die
original concept Aldiough one can find deductive chains of reason-
ing at various points, no major portion of die work is a postula-
tional system such as characterizes deductive economics.-

^ At die most general level die Parsonian treatment fordirightly

summarizes several highly important, if very general, assumptions
concerning man and society diat are supported by a large amount
of e\Tdence. For example:

wl. A large amount of human social action is goal-directed.

^2. Social action is sufficiently patterned toV allow for analysis in
terms of systems.
As die only s}Tnbol-using animal, man is able to generalize
from experience and to siahilize a pattern of behavior through
time. Simple stimulus-response interpretations are inadequate to
account for these facts.* r.

Action is, in part, directed by orientation tq^value-sfandards .

Action-systems represent “compromises” aitidng orgahismic, .

cultural, personality, and motivated actors con-

social fystems, as
tend with the exigencies of survival in an environment, “Perfect
integration” is not found in die empirical worlds \7' '

f^ven though uneven in logical development, drie; of, the virtues ’•

® . tlae high elaboration of human action systems 'js* not

possible
widiout relativ^ely stable symbolic systems where meanmg is not pre-
donmiantly contingent on highly particularized situatiohs.^ (SS 11) ..
94 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

of the Parsonian conceptual system is its compreliensiveness'^As

Devereux has pointed out, it provides an elaborate checklist, as
itwere, for the description of any social system; as one uses the
system he is continually reminded to look for structures and proc-
esseswinch might go unremarked were not some systematic guide
being followed; he is encouraged to trace in detail the structural
elements of the society, the modes by which conformity is elicited,
the sources of deviance, the formation of adaptive structures, die
sources of change and of resistance to change.\^t is in this way
tliat the scheme not only facilitates description but also can serve
as a diagnostic tool^^or Parsons keeps asking at every point,
“What can ‘go wrong’ here?” and, “How does the system cope with
‘ti’ouble’?” His interest is not exclusively in a static inventory of
characteristics of culture, personahty,and society, but in an analysis
of dynamic functioning of interlocked systems which are always
imperfectly integrated, always subject to strain. “Equilibrium,” or
order, is always empirically problematic; it is not a global emana-
tion but the specific outcome of highly complex interrelations among
specific processes.
We are here prepared to reject two sharply opposing views of
Parsons’ use of the concept of “equilibrium.” In tlie full context of
its usage in his several major works, “equilibrium” does not mean
to Parsons that real societies and real systems always tend to
“correct” deviations immediately, and with minimal and slight eflFprt,

and return to a steady state. This notion is repeatedly and emphat-

ically rejected, as isthe notion that empirical social systems can
ever be perfectly “integrated” at any one time. Fiuthermore,
throughout the later works there is recurrent and specific concern
with strain, deviation, alienation, and “compulsive” conformity. On
the other hand, the critics seem to have made valid points, which
cannot be summarily dismissed as results of cai'eless reading or
inadequate comprehension. Even with all its careful disclaimers
and qualifications, the scheme does have the net effect, for many
readers, of emphasizing stability, and, by omission, understating
the problem of radical discontinuities and rapid, massive, and, vio-
lent conflicts and changes in social systems and sub-systems;^riius,
the idea of equilibrium has both intriguing possibilities of system-
analysis and disconcerting difficulties of operational definition and
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS * 95

of effective employment research^We v^ould not sup-

in empirical
pose it useful to take as an equilibrium-state any momentary given
condition of a group or society—whether the moment” in question
*

be one-half hour in a small-group laboratory experiment or a

decade in the history of a nation. For the concept of equilibrium
to have descriptive, predictive, or explanatory value, it must be
possible to state a set of defining specifying what
conditions
'TDalance of forces” is to be ‘'equihbrium” and what "‘movements”—
change in previously selected relevant variables—will constitute
disequilibrium. This, we submit, Parsons has not done. The con-
cept of equihbrium, like the related term, integration, still floats
freely in the high reaches of "free intellectual creation.” A particu-
larly agonizing question here, as in most other major portions of
the conceptual scheme, is whetlier the Parsonian scheme can
generate real predictions or is restricted to post facto classifications
and interpretations."*
The conceptual framework we have reviewed probably comes
closer tlian any other modern synthesis to an actual conceptual
linkage of considerable parts of anthropology, economics, political
science, and sociology. Although the linkage is highly abstract, it

does serve to place the several social sciences in a new perspective,

and at least points in a very general way to more specific areas of
theoretical and empirical articulation among these disciplines,
parsons explicitly disavows any intention to present liis work as
a meorij of concrete social phenomena.f Contained in his mitings
are several quite Afferent kinds of attempted contributions: (1)
critiques of other conceptual schemes and theories; (2) general
metliodological analysis; (3) development of new constructs; (4)
socialtaxonomy (structural classification); (5) translation of one
conceptual scheme into another and specification of relationships
between nontranslatable concepts (tlieory of social action, and

*And furtlier, if predictions can be derived, whether the data re-

quired are too massive and fugitive to justify the effort required, i.e.,
would we have to know *‘too much” in aavance in order to make
predictions?
not an attempt to formulate a theory of any concrete phe-
t ‘‘It is
nomenon, but it is tlie attempt to present a logically articulated con-
ceptual scheme.” (SS 204)
96 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

Freudian concepts); (6) numerous observations and fresh insights

concerning actual social behavior; (7) broad diagnoses of social
situations (Nazism in Germany, American kinship systems);
(8)
hypotlieses suggestive of research needs; (9) certain empirical
generalizations^Tliis almost certainly is not a complete hst, but
it is enough to warn us tljat a critique of the whole edifice must
be careful to specify its points of reference.
In a complex and rapidly developing field of study, debates con-
cerning strategies for advancing knowledge are inevitable, and
questions about the long-run fruitfulness of alternative modes of
attack are not hkely to be put to rest until the actual returns are
in, if then. Yet it is neither unnecessary nor unprofitable to have
such debates go on. The confrontation and comparison of “con-
ceivable futures” for research and theoretical construction often
clarify the possible choices, narrow the area of disagreements,
and in a variety of other ways help to refine and temper our judg-
ments. Parsons elaborates an impressive case for tlie advantages
of comprehensive and abstract conceptual schemes. Merton advo-
cates middle-range formulations, deahng with coherent subfields
of sociological problems. And number of research workers
a large
are busily engaged in describing social phenomena or testing
specific hypotheses with only remote and tenuous connection with
any explicit “general tlieoiy.” Altliough hardly anyone engaged in
social science research these days would seriously argue for old-
fashioned “raw empiricism,” tlie spectrum of opinions as to effective

strategy is obviously wide.

Conceptual schemes may be developed, as Sheldon puts it, as
free creations of tlie human intellect. Or, tliey may be devised in
relatively close relation to observation and experiment, growing
by continuous and extension as new data force changes
revision
a ri d as the changing concepts lead to new data. For tlie most
part Parsons has elected to drive directly for a comprehensive and
systematic conceptual scheme; presumably this scheme is supposed
to guide subsequent research in producing die data needed to give
specific empirical content to the categories and hypotheses. Cer-
tainly this approach is understandable as a reaction against raw
empiricism and ad hoc conceptualization. On the other hand, it is
clearly true that Parsons gives very few hints as to how the con-
THE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 97

cepts could be given an operational meaning. If the scheme is to

be of any use in research, the main operational task lies ahead. In
this reviewer’s judgment, serious efforts to use components of the
scheme in research are likely to lead to quite substantial modifica-
tions of tlie conceptual apparatus itself.
Such modifications will probably be encountered, for instance,
in first-hand research on tlie relation between “shared value-orienta-
tions” and "mutually adjusted role-behavior.” First of all, can the
two complexes of variables be defined in a nontautological
sets or
manner, that is, by independent operations? If they do prove to be
amenable to such definition, a host of further questions arise, viz.:
Wliat value-content is to be indexed, and how? What specific
aspects of mutual adjustment should be included? Mffiat particular
hypotheses are to be investigated? Shall one attempt to secure
measures of intensity and salience of value-commitment? Do we
rely upon testimony, projective tests, or direct observation of
behavior? And so on.
Or, suppose we wish to determine the part played in the “soli-
darity” of a religious collectivity by “common values.” What values?
How indexed? Assuming, as is likely, that we find or devise several
different operational indices of tlie variables, how do we select
from them or combine them? Is “solidarity” merely another way
of saying “shared values,” or can we find reasonably specific
independent measurements?
Again, what does it mean to speak of status as a “position”? It
seems tliat as a concept referring to social reality a “position” can
only mean a certain organized cluster of rights and obligations
attributed by alters to an ego. A status may exist ivithout being
named or explicitly recognized. The fact that a status is named,
e.g., “fatlier,” really tells us nothing directly of the rights and

obligations wliich define what a “father” is expected to do. Parsons

drinks of status as "... a place in die relationship system considered
as a structure, that isa patterned system of paHs.” (SS 25) But:
“It is difficult to separate the idea of location from the relationships
which define it . .
.
persons cannot be located without describing
dieir relations to other individuals; the points
imply the relation-
shipsand the relationships imply the points. Since positions . . .

have been defined as locations of actors in systems of social rela-

98 • Robin M. Williams, Jr.

tionships, they can be completely described only by an examination

of the content of their interrelationships.” * Here, once more,
operational criteria are crucial. It cannot be taken for granted that
even the most commonly recognized, and seemingly obvious and
definite, statuses, do in fact "exist” in terms of clear definition by
overwhelming consensus of a population.
Gross et al., in the work just cited, struggle diligently witli tlie
problem of actually indexing the “roles” of school superintendents
in the State of Massachusetts. Before they feel prepared to study
this single role tliey find it expedient to develop the following
terms: position, positional sector, expectation, role, role sector,
right, obligation, role behavior, role attiibute, role behavior sector,
role attribute sector, and sanction.! It is an instructive exercise
to follow their efforts to secure actual indicators for tliese concepts
in one relatively restricted empirical study.
One other illustration will suffice to document the point now
under discussion. In The Social System, Working Papers, and
Family, Socialization and Interaction Process, there are frequent
references to processes which go on in psychotherapy; these are
summarized as permissiveness, support, denial of reciprocity, and
manipulation of rewards. These four processes are regarded as
suggestive of important aspects of sociahzation and, indeed, of
social interaction generally. Now the discussion of these processes
is illuminating, perceptive, and stimulating, and possessed of con-
siderable persuasive appeal. Yet the concepts as set forth do not
readily or obviously anchor themselves to obseivable behaviors.
As a matter of a great deal of research has already been
fact,

directed to the analysis of the psychiatric interview; it is not sur-

prising that these efforts show that indices of process that are
objective, that can be subjected to intersubjective confirmation, are

difficult to devise, important to note that no one con-

but it is

ceptualization of these processes appears as yet to have demon-

strated superiority as a basis for research.
In my view, a tlieorist is entitled to say: here are important
ideas; it is not my task to say just how you use them in research

“ Gross, Mason, and McEachem, Explorations in Role Analysis, p. 48.

f Ibid,, p. 67.
mE SOCIOLOGICAL THEORY OF TALCOTT PARSONS • 99

operations. On his side, the empirical research worker would seem

to have tlie right to suspend judgment on the scientific usefulness
of any conceptual scheme until serious effort to employ it has
shown high productivity or low productivity of empirically tested
hypotheses. My conclusion is that the full returns are yet to be seen
and that a definitive judgment on the overall merits of Parsonian
sociology cannot now be made. Even while saying this, I recognize
that two further fairly significant appraisals are possible even at
this time: (1) that the system has demonstrated a high degree
of provocative value in stimulating other workers to examine data
in die light of this conceptual scheme, and that important results
have thereby been obtained; (2) that the empirical usefulness
of die scheme, thus far, has been in the application of limited
parts of it to the interpretation of data, to the development of
hypotheses, and to the descriptive ordering of information about
particular institutions and societies.
There no doubt at all that the work of Parsons stands as a
is

massive intellectual achievement—perhaps on the whole the most

widely recognized theoretical work of any contemporary sociologist.
In closing these critical comments,<it is appropriate to note also that
among the students of Parsons there have been very few ^'disciples’’:
diose who have used his contributions have used them, in the main,
selectively and critically. In so doing they often have modified his
views, and by challenging his concepts and assumptions have not
infrequendy been stimulated to productive research and scholar-
ship. It is a plausible guess that these reactions partly reflect the
rigorous critical standards and continuous lively curiosity discern-
ible in the works here reviewed^
THE
Chandler Morse

I
FUNCTIONAL
- I IMPERATIVES*

y S'4‘?Z7

No one familiar with economics can fail to remark the

resemblance between many Parsonian concepts and those
of the older discipline. This is hardly strange. If, as Parsons
contends, economics is only a special case of general action
tlieory,but also a very important special case, die two
systems are interdependent.
Parsons’ approach to economic questions is much broader
dian tliat of orthodox economics, though not broader—
and in some respects narrower—than dissenters have con-
sidered deshable. The names of Marx, Hobson, Roscher,
and Veblen stand out among a host of critics belonging to
the socialist, German historical, and American institutional
schools who have attempted to widen the boundaries of
the discipline. But apparently it won’t do to try to treat

noneconomic matters as mere modifiers of a theory tliat is

committed by its essential nature to expounding tlie grounds
of economic behavior and exploring its consequences.

® Tliis paper is an outgrowtli of an ejcploratory study of institutional

change and economic growth undertaken in collaboration \vith Charles
Wolf, Jr., witli the aid of a grant from tlie Ford Foundation. Neither
shares responsibility for its content.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPEKATIVES * 101

Parsons, by undertaking to treat economics and tlie other specialized

social disciplines as aspects of a general theory of social action, has
removed one obstacle to progressing toward the goal visualized
by the dissenters—but he has acquired a host of problems in

exchange.

A. CONCEPTUAL FOUNDATIONS

What the Model Is About

The Parsonian approach on the familiar premise that the

rests
complex afiFairs be conducted unless they
of a society could not
were organized in some systematic way; and on the further hypoth-
esis tliat human societies, from the most primitive to the most
complex, have so much in common .that there must be a set
of fundamental organizing principles shared by aU societies but
carried to much higher degrees of elaboration in some than in
others. The aim is to discover what these basic principles are
and how they operate.
The . and process
cross-cultural similarities of social organization
arise because, given tire nature of the human organism and the
physical environment, certain “problems” must be solved if man
is to live as a social animal—that is, to employ scarce means

cooperatively (socially), and more or less rationally (sometimes,

economically) to attain given ends. What tliese problems are,
says Parsons in efiEect, can be determined by analyzing the require-
ments of this cooperative and (tnore or less) rational ends-means
process.
The first is to recognize that the mere statement of what
step
tlie process involves identifies two analytically distinct problem
areas.

(1) That of executing technically, effective methods of coopera-

tion for attaining ends approved by the cooperators.
(2) That of maintaining efiBcient cooperation.
Looked at from one point of view, these problems seem to be
mutually independent, the first calling for solution of essentially
intellectual problems, the second for solution of essentially emo-
102 • Chandler Morse

tional problems. From anotlier point of view, they

seem not to
be distinct problems at all; for if the ends of cooperation are
approved by the cooperators, why shouldn’t eooperation continue
indefinitely? (That it should, incidentally, is imphcit in the neo-
classical economic model.)
Parsonian theory implies tliat cooperation always tends to
break down. Since few of the ends of activity are “final,” most
being simply means to more remote ends, tliere is a perpetual
problem of preventing what Parsons calls “premature gratifica-
tion” {WV 184), of keeping noses to the grindstone. This causes
“strain” and is one reason why systems don’t maintain themselves
automatically. In addition, the roundaboutness of the means-ends
circuit inevitably results in differential consequences for the co-
operators (e.g., differential sharing of the costs and benefits of
cooperation, which raises the question of social justice). Unless
integrative measures can render differential consequences accept-
able, or the social system can provide coercive structures to deal
with nonacceptance, cooperation will not persist. (WP 211)
Consequently, there really are two problems, as stated initially.

Much trouble would be saved if this were all there were to

the matter. Difficulty arises because the two problems are neither
neatly distinct nor identically one. They are intermeshed in the
tissues of the human organism, where intellect and emotion lead
a blended but conflictful existence.* If tlxis explains the complex-
ity of Parsonian tlieoiy we had best make up our minds to put

up witli it.

Unfortunately, tlie inherent problem posed by die blending of

our objective and our subjective lives— to use the tivo old-fashioned
terms—is not the only reason for complexity, A furdier reason is
that Parsons has either not always been clear concerning the
nature of the difficulty, or (more probably) has kept changing liis

mind concerning the way out of it. The result is diat the concepts

of the General Theory and The Social Sijsteni do not wholly fit

widi diose in Working Tapers, and undergo further changes in

“On tliis, see V. J. McGill, Emotion and Reason (Springfield, III.:

C. T. Thomas, 1954).
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES * 103

Familtj and in Economy and Society. Clarification of the gratuitous

obscurities is badly needed.
At the outset, it appears, Parsons undertook to think of the action

process as involving two essentially distinct types of activity,

together ivith a third type that somehow spread-eagled the otlier
two. The he called “instrumental,”
first of the basic types of activity

by which he apparently meant activity devoted to solving the

cognitive problems of the means-ends network; the second type
he called “expressive,” apparently meaning activity designed to
solve the cathectic problems."
This would have done very well if it had been possible to stop
there. One could simply have held tliat the problem of finding
means called for instrumental activity, that of choosing ends for
expressive activity. But there was still the problem of maintaining
cooperation, wliich Parsons viewed initially as calling for integra-
tive activity, a third basic type. No reader of Chapter III in The
Social System can fail to be aware that Parsons was having con-
siderable difficulty fitting this third type into liis model. The
reason was that the basis of classification was difiFerent. Whereas
the first two types of activity were classified according to their
source within tlie personality, the tliird was classified in terms of
what it was meant to accomplish. Consequently, integration became
a special kind of end that called for the employment of special
kinds of means. It therefore was a special case of the ends-means
relationship, calling (perhaps) for both instrumental and expres-
sive activity.
Out of this confusion there emerged the model that took shape
in Working Papers and was applied and extended in Family and
Economy and Society. The model’s general design, and especially
its development, appear to have been influenced heavily by efforts

to deal with four basic [Link] does not explicitly

formulate these questions but they seem to be implicit in his ap-
proach. The questions are;
1. What are the instrumental (intellectual, cognitive, objective)
interests, and what are the expressive (emotional, cathectic, sub-

®
“Cathexis, the attachment to objects which are gratifying and
,
re-
jection of those which are noxious, lies at the root of the
selective
nature of action.” (GTA 5)
104 • Chandler Morse

jective) interests, that are represented in any behavioral process,

and how do they operate within upon the process?
or
This question underhes the distinction made in Working Papers
between “object-system process” and “motivational process.”
2. What
type of value does a given process create—that is, does
it create a “product” that
is valued as a means or one that is
valued as an end (or one that is valued both as means and end,
such as personal wealth).
This is the basis for the distinction between “facihties,” which
are valued as means, and “rewards,” which are valued as ends.
and rewards can be physical objects, cultural (in-
Botli facilities
cluding symbohc) objects, and (rarely) social objects, meaning
individuals or collectivities. An object can be bodi facility and
reward: Viewed as a faciHty its significance is instrumental, as
a reward, expressive.
3. What is the ultimate significance of a given process from the

system point of view? Taking the system as a normally functioning

organism, can we say that the process is one that focuses on
“getting the job done” and promotes the attainment of a valued
goal state? Or, alternatively, taking the goal states of the system
as provided for, can we say that the process is one that will help
to maintain the system as a normally functioning organism?
This is the basis of the distinction between “task-performance”
and “system-maintenance.”
a given process to be viewed from the standpoint of the
4. Is

system as a whole or from that of a given unit or sub-system wthin

the system?
the problem of “system reference,” which crops up con-
Tliis is
tinually. It is especially important as regards (a) Goals: are tliey
“ultimate” or “intermediate”? (b) Processes: are they inter-system
or intra-system, that is, inter-unit? (c) Socio-emotional needs: are
they those of units of a system taken by themselves or of a system
as a whole— of units in relation to other units? In the latter con-
nection we must when we look inside any
always remember that
“unit” it is seen to be a system-though diflFerent in kind from

that to which the unit belongs; and that every system can be
regarded as a unit (sub-system) of a more inclusive— and different
—system.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES • 105

The two following sections undertake to ferret out the hard core
of Parsons’ explicit or implicit answers to tliese and certain related

questions.

System Structure and Action Process

Some Basic Concepts. A process beginning with goal-directed

behavior and ending with attainment of the goal is an action cycle;
it occurs witliin a ‘‘system of so cal action.” A system of social action

is composed of tliree types of sub-systems; (1) tlie personality

systems of at least two individual actors, consisting of internalized
“need dispositions” and therefore of potential “motivational com-
mitments” to various types of goals and to various patterns of
behavior; (2) the social system, or structure of social organization,
consisting of defined roles and their associated and institutionalized

(
=
internalized and shared) role-expectations (== expected 'per-
formances” and “sanctions”); and (3) the culture system, consisting
of the heritage of knowledge, beliefs, ideas, technologies, mores,
customs, habits, laws, values, standards, norms, togetlier with the
symbols, botli tangible (artifacts) and intangible (language, the
arts) that represent them.
No one of these systems is entirely independent of the others.
The culture system is the major binding element. Certain cultural
elements are embodied in personality systems, others in social
systems, and still odiers are “out there” as a sort of perpetual
stock, analogous to natural resources, that is always available for
use in action processes. No system of action can survive unless
these tliree aspects .of culture are mutually consistent within some
degree of tolerance. Need dispositions can be thought of as the
organization chart of individual action systems; role-structure as
the organization chart of social action systems; and culture as the
organization chart of organization charts. (GTA 4-27) This is the
basic structure of social action, and makes a basic (though insuflB-
cient) contribution to the stabilization and coordination of action
process.
An action system also includes “objects,” that is, concrete—
though not necessarily tangible-things such as
physical actors,
objects, cultural objects(including symbols), personality systems,
social systems, and other systems of action (including the reference
106 • Chandler Morse

system itself as object). Tliis is the “situation of action,” or object

world, which has certain properties that will be perceived as
significant for action purposes. In general, these properties are of
two kinds: cognitive, what the object is, and cathetic, what the
object is good for (or bad for). It is a major attribute of the cul-
ture system that it provides a certain measmre of assurance that
all individual members of a system of action will, except within
the acceptable limits of tolerance of idiosyncrasy, “see” objects in
same terms, as possessing essentially the same signif-
essentially the
icant properties. Indeed, a posited condition of tlie survival of
systems of actionis that the members be bound together and their

behavior patterns be stabilized and coordinated in this way to a

rather high but unspecified degree.
It isnot sufficient for members of action systems to share cogni-
tive and cathectic standards to a degree; tliey must also share
evaluative standards—tlie standards by which, when confronted
with the necessity of making a choice among alternatives of any
kind, the alterantives can be rank-ordered according to each rele-
vant dimension and tlien, possibly, according to some measure
of their aggregate value.* The effective pursuit of system goals
requires that such evaluations by members be mutually consistent
(within a tolerable standard of variance). Tliis is another basic
source of stabihzation and coordination.
Roles and Transactions. Roles are job descriptions for the slots

specified by the organization chart of society. They define the

institutionalized obligations and rights of the role occupants—their
areas of responsibility and authority. To what extent, and with what
degree of precision, the goal-orientations, or functions, of roles
must be specified Parsons does not say; but that they must be
specified seems to be implicit in the entire analysis.
The responsibihties of roles fall into two broad categories.! The

®Parsons maintains such strict etliical neutrality tliat he fails to in-

quire into tlie determination of evaluative standards. He does not
e-xplore die psychological foundations of ethics, or of the concept of
social justice, and therefore has nothing to say concerning possible
basic guidelines of die process of social evolution,
t Parsons’ use of the term “role
e.\pectations” places emphasis on
rights. Tlie term "responsibihdes,” which emphasizes obligadons,
has
a more posidve character.
THE FUNCnONAL TNCPEMtIVES * 107

first specifies how tlie role occupant must manipulate objects—that

is, operate upon tliem so as to change their properties, their loca-
tion, tlieir relation to otlier objects, and so on. This is technical
role behavior.
Parsons has about the technical aspects of roles.
little to say
In specifying their existence,and in concerning himself %vith the
problem of operating upon the environment in the interest of goal
attainment, he recognizes the central importance of manipulating
objects. Object manipulation, being most of what people really
“do,” iswhat we naturally think of as the central feature of action
process. But such manipulations are of subordinate concern to
Parsons, for they are incidental to the processes of interaction,
which is what the tlieor)' is about That is why Whyte can remark
that there “no action” in Parsons,® The productive processes of
is

adapting means to ends are fundamental to Parsons’ model, but

the model more concerned wth interactions and trans-
itself is

actions tlian witli manipulations and productive transformations.

The latter go on, however, and if this be remembered much that
seems rarefied and abstract becomes more solid and concrete.
The second category of responsibilities specifies how the role
occupant shall interact %vith others—what performances and sanc-
tions he shall render.

In the process of interaction, an act analyzed in terms of its

direct meaning for the functioning of the system, as a “contribu-
tion” to its maintenance or bisk performance, is called a per-
formance. On tire otlier hand, an act analyzed in terms of its
effect on the state of the actor toward whom it is oriented (and
tlius only indirectly, through his probable future action, on the
state of the system) is called a sanction. This is an analytical
distinction. Every concrete act has botli a performance and a
sanction aspect. (ES 9)

The economic between supply and demand is cited

distinction
as a case in [Link] focuses on providing tire economy as a
whole with particular classes of goods and services; it is thus
a social performance. Demand focuses particular requirements for
various goods and services on the particular supplying agencies;

® See p. 25S.
108 Chandler Morse

itthus influences their willingness to maintain or increase supply,

and is a social sanction. (ES 10)
The simplest but by no means the only case of interaction

... is that of reciprocity of goal orientation, the classical eco-

nomic case of exchange, where alters action is a means to the
attainment of ego’s goal, and vice versa. (SS 70)

In highly organized and durable systems of exchange egos tend

to become specialized in producing means for the attainment of
the goals of others. Reciprocally, the attainment of ego’s goals
becomes enmeshed in expectations of what are (to them) signifi-
cant actions by alters.
What an ego gets thus depends not only on what he produces
but also on the “terms of exchange” of his products for alters.
(GTA 210 ff. ) It is not necessary, however, that every ego-alter
relationship be of the kind properly called an exchange in tire
technical economic sense of involving a quid pro quo. Ego may
transfer product to an alter from whom he expects to receive
nothing of specific equal value in exchange; and he may receive
transfers from other alters on tlie same basis. A transfer involves
no [Link] quid pro quo.
Following usual economic practice, exchanges and transfers
will be referred to here as transactions. Transactions are thus proc-
esses that consist of flows between units or systems, together with
tlie activities directly involved in settling the terms governing the
flows. Processes internal to a unit or system, that either precede or
do not involve flows between units or systems, xvill be referred to

as transformations. (WP 216)

The analytical distinction betv^een exchanges and transfers is
not made explicitly by Parsons but his analysis implies that ex-
changes occur when, and only to the degree that, the transacting
parties belong to what, for the pui'pose of tlie transaction in ques-
tion, are different solidarj' systems, that is, different “collectivities”;

and tliat transfers occur when, and only to the extent that, the

parties regard themselves as belonging, for the purpose of the

transaction, to the same solidary system. Put otherwise, exchange
implies “self-orientation” on the part of one or both parties, and
transfer implies “collectivity-orientation” on the part (at least) of
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPEKATIVES • 109

the transferer.*^ Thus, where transfers occur, diffuse claims and

roundabout expectations of eventual sanction replace specific and
direct sanctions. Since solidarity is a matter of degree, varying in
both scope and intensity, tliese distinctions are also matters of
degree. Concrete transactions may include both exchange and
transfer elements in varying proportions.
Transactions call for certain types of performance-sanction inter-*
change. In addition there must be something which changes hands,
which is disposed of and received.

This something may be control of a physical object in certain

respects, including power to destroy it (e.g., food through ^‘con-
sumption”) It may be an agreement to do certain things in the
.

future, positive as contributing to alter's goals, or negative as

refraining from interfering with alter's goals. This something
will be called a possession, (SS 71)

The social significance of possessions arises from and is embodied

in the fact that tliey are bundles of rights and obligations.
Possessions come into being as the result of action processes;
they are the "products” of action, and so are included among tlie
"consequences” of action.
Possessions are of two types, facilities and rewards. Facilities in

.
their tangible aspect are , such things as materials, equipment, real
estate—items to be used to attain some goal and not as objects of
Whether labor services are to be regarded as
direct gratification.
a facility is would seem that they should, but their
uncertain. It
handling in Economy and Society suggests that they are not.
Rewards are possessions tliat have an expressive (gratificatory)
significance to the recipient. Rewards and facilities may be the
same concrete possessions viewed in two different ways, but they

*
‘Tt became apparent and collectivity-orienta-
that [self -orientation
tion] . . . defined tlie relations behveen two systems placed in a
hierarchical order. Self-orientation defined a state of rdative inde-
pendence from involvement of the lower-order in the higher-order
system, leaving the norms and values of the latter in a regulatory,
i.e., limit-setting relation to the relevant courses of action. Collectivity-
orientation on tlie otlier hand defined a state of positive membership
whereby, tlie norms and values of the higher-order system are posi-
tively prescriptive for the action of tlie lower.’' (ES 36)
110 • Chandler Morse

may also be any case, “rewards are always to

distinct objects. In
be understood as part of the
complex of expressive symbolism, not
part of the instrumental means-ends complex.” (SS 119) Rewards
may be either positive or negative (i.e., penalties).
Stabilization of Interaction Process. Transactions are inherent in
tlie very nature of social systems. The basic stabilizing and coordi-

native devices discussed earlier cannot handle the infinite variety

of possible transactions. Special mechanisms are therefore needed
to assure that the terms on which transactions are settled wall,
in general, be compatible "with the stability of tlie system. In The
Social System, two mechanisms are provided for the orderly set-
thng of tire terms of exchange between (competing) members of
different sub-systems: an “economy of instrumental orientations”
and a corresponding “economy of expressive orientations,” The
former is concerned with the problem of allocating rights to facil-
ities, the latter with rights to rewards. Tliis distinction appears not
to have been employed in later work.
Transactions are the substance of interaction process; they con-
sist of a reciprocal discharge of role responsibilities. If we consider
any two related roles the impHed interactions may be summarized
as follows:
1, a. Performances by ego that contribute to disposal of his “prod-
uct” and to providing alters with facilities (wliich may also have a
reward significance to alter).

1, b. Sanctions by reward ego for liis performances

alters that
(where the rewards may also be significant as facilities for ego),
2, a. and 2, b. Performances by alter and sanctions by ego.
The “circular flow” that economists have long recognized to be
an inherent characteristic of economic activity, and to be respon-
sible for tire complex interdependencies of modern societies, is
thus represented as a particular case of a circularity that is inherent
in all social action.

Markets, which are governed by tire institution of contract

(ES 104-113), are the standard mechanisms for regulating tlie
settlement of terms in competitive, nonsolidary, “ecological” sys-
tems. (SS 93) An ecological system is one in which the transactions
are those of exchange. For the purpose of the exchange, the actors
view each other as belonging to different collectivities, as bound
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES * 111

only by mutual interdependence. Competition, supplemented

ties of

by a variety of permissive and prescriptive rules, is the agency

through which rights to possessions are allocated in a market. Out-
side tile market context, and for otiier purposes—such as those of
a social club or a nation— the actors who compete for some purposes
may think of tiiemselves as belonging to the same solidary system,
that is, to the same collectivity.

Witliin a collectivity role relationships are cooperative, not com-

petitive. Transfer, not exchange, is thus tiie appropriate mode of
allocating rights to possessions. Conformity of role behavior to
expectations, therefore, is not assured by a bargaining process, in
which the value of sanctions is brought into line wtli tiiat of
performances, and another mode of regulation is needed. This is
made by the existence of loyal attachments among the
possible
members of the collectivity and especially by “solidarity,” which
comes about through the institutionalization of loyalties.
Even in a solidary system it is impossible to expect appropriate
role behavior at all times. Deviance in various forms is endemic
to social systems. To maintain tiie system as a going concern in
the face of distintegrative behavior requires special mechanisms
of social control. (SS ch. VII) As these are peripheral to action
process per se they will not be dealt with here.
Coordination of Role Behavior. Stabilization of role behavior is
necessary for continued system functioning, but it is not sufficient.
•
A given action process or cycle, focused on attainment of a
specific goal, is a of many articulated processes that must
complex
be adapted to a great number of unforeseen circumstances (“exigen-
cies”). Somehow, therefore, these processes must be coordinated.
The need for close coordination is most clearly seen in an
[Link] organization is a “system of cooperative relation-
ships” (SS 72) capable of “continual action in concert” (SS 100),
and having “primacy of orientation to the attainment of a specific
goal.” (ASQ 64) The latter characteristic requires that coordina-
tion be acliieved in large degree by expUcit and formal means; the
implicit, informal methods of unorganized cooperative systems
would provide too little assurance that the specific goals, pursuit
of wliich is the raison d’etre of organizations, would be effectively
and efficiently attained.
112 • CJmndler Morse

Parsons pays little attention to tlie problem of explicit coordina-

tion; “ implicit in his approach, however, there appear to be the
following methods of aclheving it:

1. Competition, as in exchange transactions.

This operates when actors regard themselves as belonging to
difiEerent systems and as pursuing different, though presumably

consistent or reconcilable, goals. It is tlie process of reconcilation

that achieves coordination. The market is the prototype of tliis

metliod. The final arbiter of competition is bargaining power ( which

should be in balance for best results). (ES 146)
2. Collaboration, as in transfers.
Actors who, while interacting, regard themselves as members of
the same sohdary system, as pursuing common goals, adopt the
collaborative mode of coordination, that is, tlie method of mutual
voluntaiy adjustment. Collaboration is necessary to all organiza-
tions. The family a clear case of a cooperative system tliat is
is

not an organization. The final arbiter of collaboration is authority

(legitimized superior power).
3. Coercion.
When the attainment of any collectivity’s goals requires the tech-
nical cooperation of actors who are not regarded ( or do not regard
themselves) as members of the collectivity—i.e., as sharing its goals
—they may be coerced into involuntary cooperation. The essential

requirement for coercion is an unbalance of power.

These three analytical modes of coordination are blended in

concrete [Link] .continuing pattern of cooperation can be

maintained in a complex system without employing each of tlie
three methods of coordination in some measure. Yet social systems
may often be distinguished according to the degrees in which
diey employ the several methods for specific purposes. The USSR
treats production as a national goal, and its economy is an organiza-
tion of national scope. Competition contributes scarcely at all to
economic coordination. Production in Western societies is seldom
organized much beyond the individual enterprise level; \vithin the
enterprise competition is unimportant but as between enterprises
it is the main coordinative device.

See Section VII, pp. 149-52.

THE FUNCTIONAL IMPEILVm'ES * 113

The tliree modes of coordination do not, perhaps,

indicated
exhaust the possibilities. Must competition be construed broadly to
include conflict? Must voting? Do arbitration and judicial process
belong with collaboration? Or \vitli coercion? Or witli both? \^fliat-
cv'cr the appropriate answers, tliere is presumably a relatively
small number of coordinative modes (tliough some tliat are pos-
sible may not yet have been invented). Is there some criterion
for determining the optimum mode or combination of modes for
each situation?

Basic Design of the Model: Four Functional Problems

The relation of structure to process was far from clear in early

versions of the Parsonian model. But as the model evolved, tlie
relationship acquired an increasingly definite form, based on the
h)'pothesis that

. . . process in any social system is subject to four independent

functional imperatives or “problems” which must be met ade-
quately equilibrium and/or continuing existence of the system
if

is to be maintained. (ES 16)

The four problems are those of:

G Goal attainment
A Adaptation
I Integration
L Latency

Goal aitainment marks the termination of any action cycle. An

action cycle of a sub-s)'stem terminates when it has completed
its contribution to tlie functioning of a larger system, that is, when
the sub-system has attained a goal that is “intermediate” from the
larger system standpoint. By definition, the goals of any “final”
s)-stem, for example, of society, do not contribute to the function-
ing of a still larger system, and may therefore be called “ultimate.”
This distinction is not made by Parsons, and he does not use these
terms, but they appear to be necessary to understanding. The goal-
attainment ‘problem is that of keeping tlie action system moving
steadily toward its goals.
114 • Chandler Morse

Adaptation is tlie process of mobilizing the technical means

required for (a) goal attainment, and (b) latency. It involves die
process of inference, which is the heart of what we mean by
rationality. The adaptive problem is that of properly perceiving and
rationally manipulating the object world for the attainment of ends.
Parsons considers that all ends are “goals,” and therefore that
adaptation is relevant only to “goal-attainment.” But it is clear
that, in theParsonian conception, die maintenance of cooperation
must be an “end” of some social processes (and a function of
some roles), though not a “goal” in the sense in which this is
defined as the termination of an action cycle. Ends imply means,
and the mobilization of means is the adaptive function.
Integration is the process of achieving and maintaining appro-
priate emotional and social relations (a) among those directiy
cooperating in a goal-attainment process, and (b) in a system of
action viewed as a continuing entity. The integrative problem is
that of holding cooperating units in line, of creating and maintain-
ing “solidarity,” despite the emotional strains involved in the proc-
esses of goal attainment and the manner of sharing tlie fiaiits

of cooperation.
Latency isan interlude between successive goal-attainment proc-
esses. It is not a period of inactivity; but the activities, whatever
they may be, consist of restoring, maintaining, or creating the
energies, motives, and values of the cooperating units and so do
not explicitly advance the larger system toward its goal. A family’s
home activities are ‘latent” from the point of view of society even
though the members of the family may be cooperating in planting
a garden, which is a goal-attainment process from the family
standpoint. The latency problem is to malce sure that units have
the time and the facilities, within a suitable conditioning environ-
ment, to constitute or reconstitute tlie capacities needed by the
system.
The four functional problems fit together in the following ways.
The G- and A-problems taken jointly constitute the “task-orientation
area” of “instrumental activity” and the I- and L-problems jointly
constitute the “social emotional area” of “expressive actiwty.” These
are the two problem areas referred to at the beginning of Section
I. But, as noted there, the two problem areas are not neatly distinct.
THE FXJNCTIONAL rNiPERATTVES * 115

They merge, though in different ways, in the t\vo basic strands

of action process: “task-performance” and “system-maintenance.”
Task-perforvxance heads up in tlie goal-attainment problem, but
die process involves a blend of instrumental activity and expressive
activity. Thus, there are

. . . two sets of exigencies of goal-attainment, . . . the “exigencies

of tlie task-orientation area” and “exigencies of the social emo-
tional area” of a system of action. More specifically, they are
tlie exigencies of adaptation and of integration. (WP 210)

In other words, task-performance requires solution of both the

adaptive and the integrative problems as preconditions for goal-
attainment; die former always necessary and may be sufficient;
is

the latter may be necessary and is never sufficient.

System-maintenance, one would like to think, should bear a more
or less. s)Tnmetrical relationship to task-performance, but Parsons
is not The requirements of symmetry would be met if
explicit.

system-maintenance headed up in Latency: then we could say

diat die task-performance process terminates in Goal-attainment,
and that the system-maintenance process terminates in Pattern
Maintenance and Tension Management—the other term for Latency.
(ES 17, 19)
This interpretation is consistent udth Parsons’ view that goal-
attainment and latency “designate antithetical, i.e., independent
directions of die disposal of the inflow of motivational energy into
die system.” (WP
190) Task-performance directs energies toward
die attainment of a goal state, and termination of the action cycle
per sc; system-maintenance then directs energies toward attainment
of a state of latency, in preparation for beginning a new action
cycle.® The processes involved in both instances are those of
adaptation (instrumental activity) and integration (expressive activ-
it}'). The relation of adaptation and integration to system-mainte-
hance is the precise inverse of their relation to task-performance.
The interdependence between task-performance and system-main-
tenance may be summarized in the follovdng way:
Attainment of ultimate system goals is a necessary condition for

* The term "Uien” implies logical, not necessarily temporal, sequence.

116 • Chandler Morse

meeting unit needs, for conducting and enjoying die activities of

Latency. But latent interludes, in ivhich system business is in
abeyance, are the ultimate justification for submitting to the disci-
pline required by social goal-seeking activity.
The Four Functional Imperatives Examined More Closely. The
four functional imperatives, or problems, operate at both a micro-
analytic and a macro-analytic level in the Parsonian model. (IW
193, 212) At the micro-level* they purport to specify the phases
through which individual actors in a small action system and the
action system as a whole must progress during an action cycle.
At die macro-level die imperatives provide a means of (a) allocat-
ing roles analytically among four functional sub-systems of any
given system, and of (b) sorting out the input-output flows among
these sub-systems.
An action cycle begins \^ddl a commitment of motii^ational energ)'
to a particular concrete goal by one or more hitherto inactive
member units, the goal being one to which all actors who are to
participate in the cycle must, through dieir partially overlapping
need-disposition patterns, ah*eady have a shared set of motivational
commitments. The performance-sanction interchanges among mem-
ber units proceed through various functional phases, including
especially die adaptive (instrumental) phase, until the system has
both completed the task (goal attainment) and met requisite
system-maintenance needs (latency), after wliich the units are
ready to begin another action cycle. From die system point of
view, micro-process in a subsystem is a transformation process.
The Imperatives of the Task Orientation Area: Goal Attainment
and Adaptation.

Goal attainment involves intrinsically gratifying activity. It is

die culminating phase of a sequence of preparatory activities.
(WP 184)

* micro-analysis of Working Tapers is concerned with small

The
group behavior under experimental conditions where a task is as-
signed to the group and its process of organizing to perform the task
is observed ana analyzed. Much of what goes on is therefore a
process
of “role creation” rather than a process of role behavior. The implicit
assmnption seems to be that there is little essential difference between
these processes.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES • 117

In the consummatory phase the relation to the object is an

"intrinsically” gratifying(or deprivational) one; in the instru-
mental phase, on the otlier hand, tliere is greater or less distance
from such a goal-state and activity is directed to altering the
system-object relationship in the goal-state direction. (WP 211)

. Read literally, these statements suggest tliat aU goal states must

be of an "ultimate” character, meaning tliat they must be ends in
themselves, like eating dinner or seeing a play, and not instru-
mental means to the attainment of some further end— one’s own
or someone else’s—like washing dishes or putting on a Broadway
production. This wiU hardly do. By far the greater part of all
human activity is instrumental in the sense (implied above) of not
providing ultimate gratification, yet we must suppose that most
of these activities are also "intrinsically gratifying” in some sense,
as well as instrumental to eventual attainment of an ultimate goal.
Moreover, we must
suppose that Parsons intends to permit this
construction, for otller^vise, contrary to the views put forward in
Economy and Society and the Administrative Science Quarterly
article, no factory in the land could have a goal, a goal-attainment

sub-system, or a goal-attainment phase.

There is a special significance to tlie difference between inter-
mediate social gratifications, which are a necessary condition for
system functioning, and ultimate personal gratifications, which are
tlie final justification of all social activity. The latter are their own

reward, but the former, no matter how incidentally pleasurable tliey

may be to the actor, must be rewarded by the social system. Con-
sequently there a sense in which an action cycle is not complete
is

until tlie performances contributory to attainment of intermediate

goals have been rewarded. That is, social gratification is not enough;
there must be a matching flow of personal gratifications. But in a
well-integrated society the latter flow can vary ratlier widely in
tlie short run relative to the former. In other words, there are com-
mitments to the system that hold it together even when it fails for
a time to perform satisfactorily.
The Imperatives of the Social Emotional Area: Integration. A
system of action would be a somewhat delicate and tenuous struc-
ture if it were held together only by bonds of conunon
perception,
understanding, and expectation like tliose described in Section II.
118 * Chandler Morse

These bonds, whether weak or strong, are continually being under-

mined by conflicting individual interests, inadequate communica-
tion, changes in the object world and in the culture system that
necessarily affect different parts of tlie action system differently,
and so on.
The identity (or integrity) of a system of action is embodied
in die sense of solidarity that binds its members together, that
gives diem a sense of collective belonging, of mutual interdepend-
ence, so that they do not require an explicit quid for every quo
but are prepared to accept a diffuse assurance of the general
benefits ofmembership and to make their contributions accord-
[Link] family is the prime example of a solidary action system,
but even the workman who gives his eight hours a day for five
days a week in return for the general assurance of a pay envelope
on Friday is showing a degree of solidarity with his employer; and
the fact diat he is willing to accept money, which in itself is value-
less, evidence of a solidary relationship to die money-issuing
is

authority and the society from which that authority derives. Gener-
ally speaking, solidarity is always limited. As a rule, no one will
wholly sacrifice self for all, contintinuaUy “give all,” “get nodiing.”
Willingness to make exchange for some-
specific contributions in
what none
diffuse benefits (or even except “glory” or “reputation”)
is only one major aspect of solidarity. Another is a willingness to

contribute to maintaining the integrity of die system, in fact, an

acceptance of responsibility for doing so. Thus it is diat much of
what goes on in a system of action is concerned with integration.
Integration, it should be re-emphasized, is a necessary aspect of
both task-performance and system-maintenance processes. The first
kind of integration is needed because the adaptive process of goal
attainment can never work perfectly. The need for the second kind
of integration arises because there is a problem which

... is closely analogous with that on tlie adaptive side. Given

the expectation pattern of one member unit, there is no guar-

antee that the relations to other units on which die fulfillment of
the expectation depends will “stay put.” There will, dierefore,
be a necessity for processes of adjustment, either by positively
controlling the relevant imit or by accommodation to it. (WP
211 )
THE FUNCriONAL IMPERATIVES • 119

Latencij (or Pattern Maintenance and Tension Management),

Latency consists of bvo related problems. One—pattern mainte-
nance—is the problem of stabilizing a set of (latent) commitments
to a set of goals that has been 'legitimized” by tlie cultural
value
pattern of tlie system; the other—tension management—is tliat of
eliminating tlie residual "tensions” that occur wthin member units
as the result of the fact that no goal attainment process carried out
by any action system is likely to gratify every participating member
,

unit completely. This leaves tire "frustrated” units with a problem.

The two aspects of the Latency problem have as a common
element the fact that tliey

. focus on the Knit of the system, not the system itself. Inte-
. .

grationis the problem of znterunit relationships, pattern mainte-

nance of intraunit states and processes. (ES 50)

Thus, if a unites expectation of gratification is not fulfilled, and in

consequence tlie unit develops a state of “tension,” this is the unit’s
problem, not tliat of the system.
Whether or not a given unit maintains or changes its structure
of commitments to a given set of goal expectations is the unit’s
problem. But stability of system operation requires stability of unit
When, from the point of view of the larger system, a
operation.
member unit is engaged in mending its fences, the larger system
is said to be in a state of “latency.”
When Parsons says tliat goal gratification and latency designate
antithetical directions of the disposal of the flow of motivational
energy into tlie system he apparently means that in the motivated
pursuit of a goal the participating units must allocate energy and
act on the operative assumption that their need-dispositions will
be gratified (whatever mental reservations tliey may hold); whereas
in tlie latency phase the results of the goal-attainment process are
an accomplished fact, and motivational energy goes into sorting
out the consequences for the units and equilibrating their positions.
Significance of the Functional Imperatives, To understand Par-
sons it is essential to recognize liis aim, which is to establish a link
between the psychological make-up of the human animal and the
way in which he organizes social relationships and behavior. That
120 • Chandler Morse

the former in large degree explanatory of

is tlie latter is the most
fundamental premise of Parsons’ tliought.
The funetional imperatives are a device for moving between indi-
vidual psychology and social behavior. Man isviewed as purposive
—hence goal-seeking; he
regarded as rational—hence problem-
is

solving: adaptive with respect to the environment and integra-

tive with respect to his social (and emotional) relationships to
others of his kind; and he is regarded as an individual, \vith pri-
vate, yet socially conditioned, needs—hence needing release from
the strains of coordinated (competitive, collaborative, or coerced)
behavior, while ever mindful that even his private Hfe “belongs”
to society in a sense, and must be led in accordance with certain
rules. These crucial facts about the human animal, says Parsons in
eflEect, explain the “shape” ( or pattern) of culture—the accumulated
human experience; they also ex’plain much about the
distillation of
shapes of personaUty systems and social systems, for these are
formed by the processes that transmit culture from generation to
generation, molding the need dispositions of individuals and the
structure of role responsibihties of society.
From this Parsons concludes that one should be able to identify,
in the macro-structure of society, elements that reflect the influence
of the functional imperatives. Stated otherwise, human experience
cumulates not only as culture but also as social organization; just
as ideas become refined and difFerentiated, so do role responsibili-
ties. Each process is subject to a high degree of historical variabil-

ity, and the degree to which social organization has developed

(become differentiated) is far greater in some societies than in

others. But these variations should not be permitted to obscure the
common tlieme.
The jump from small group analysis (in Working Papers), via
family analysis (in Fa)niltj) and organizational analysis (in the
Administrative Science Quarterly article), to societal [Link] is a
large one, and Parsons has taken it with characteristic disregard of
troublesome detail. In the second part of this paper I shall en-
deavor to provide some indication of tlie part played by the func-
tional imperatives in Parsonian analysis as set forth in Economy
and Society.
THE FUNCTIOKAl, IMPERATIVES * 121

B. THE IMPERATIVE PROBLEMS AT THE SOCIETAL LEVEL

Macro-Structure and Macro-process

Socidtj as a Social System. In micro-analysis, role specialization

isviewed in terms of the norms appropriate to performance and
sanction (^^T 202-208) and to role differentiation. (^^0P 245-254)
This shades over into macro-analysis, as when the occupational
subsystem is identified as tliat group of roles, either individual or
collective, that is “differentiated from other subsystems of tlie so-
ciety by primacy and when sub-groups of
of adaptive functions,” “
roles are classified according to their input-output relations with
each other, or according to the scope of tlieir responsibility. {WP
2.54-264) Micro-analysis is concerned vdtli interaction between
individual role incumbents; macro-analysis witli tlie flows—inputs
and outputs—among groups of occupants of similar or closely re-
lated roles.
No attempt is made in Working Papers to analyze structure and
process in terms of the four functional imperatives at the societal
level. This undertaken in Economy and Society, which pre-
is first

sents an outline sketch of a model for society as a whole, and a

detailed analysis of its economic sub-system. Underlying this model
is an implicit hj'pothesis tliat, as societies become more comple.x,

groups of interdependent roles emerge that are specialized in the

performance of one of tlie four imperative functions for society.
In primitive and peasant societies occupational responsibilities are
assigned to one or both parental roles. In a modem. Western so-
ciet)'the typical male head of a family occupies not only the father
role but also a distinct occupational role, wtli responsibilities de-
fined in terms of societal, not family, “ends” and requiring e.K-
tensive interaction wth members of society outside Ae family;
in addition, he may occupy any number of nonoccupational com-
munit)’^ roles, which ordinarily prowde noneconomic (expressive
rather than instrumental) rewards.

® Later modified. In Economy and Society some occupational roles

have primacy of other functions (G, 1, or L).
122 • Chandler Morse

The thesis of Economy and Society may be epitomized as fol-

lows:
a. Every being a social system, must contain roles with
society,
responsibiUties for solving tlie four basic system problems at the
societal level. This is tlie theme of Chapter I,
b. When the scale and complexity of these problems becomes
suflBciently great, there is a “division of labor,”
and roles appear
tliathave primary responsibility to contribute to solution of only
one of these problems. Consequently, any sufficiently complex so-
ciety will be found to have four sets of specialized roles, one for
each of the basic system problems. Each such set of specialized
contended, constitutes a sub-system of society and obeys
roles, it is
the laws governing the operation of social systems. (ES 13-19, 53)
These sub-systems are designated as follows;

G The Pohty
A The Economy
I The Integrative sub-system
L The Latency, or Pattern-maintenance and Tension-
management, sub-system

Not all the sub-systems need be developed ( differentiated) to the

same degree, and at any particular historical stage of development
they presumably will not be." It will be noted, for example, that
the I- and L-sub-systems have no distinctive names. This suggests
that they are less highly differentiated than the other two—that
social evolution has not proceeded far enough for these functions
to be recognized in the language. But Parsons appears not to rec-
ognize the possibility of varying degrees ( stages ) of differentiation.
He implies that the United States is fully differentiated, and that
the same is true of its sub-systems. This seems unlikely.
c. Within these broad can be an
lines of specialization there
indefinitely large number of sub-specializations, depending on the

*’
An the process of structural differentiation will
liistorical analysis of
be found in Neil J. Smelser, Social Change in the Industrial Revolu-
tion (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1959). Smelser makes
use of the seven “levels of generality of economic resources” outhned
in Economy and Society, pp. 138-143. Limitations of space preclude
discussion here of tliis potentially useful tool of analysis.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES * 123

technical requirements arising from the scale and complexity of

development, and the state of knowledge. In Chapter II of Econ-
omy and Society the fourfold breakdown is applied to the Econ-
omy, and each of its sub-systems is subdivided in the same way.
d. The terms on which interactions (performances and sanctions)
occur among roles wtliin one of the four sub-systems differ in sig-
nificant ways from those governing interactions between roles in
different sub-systems. In die first case, both parties recognize that
in some sense they belong to a common social system, share re-
sponsibility for attaining a common goal (wliich is that of their
speciahzation), and therefore stand in a “solidary” relationship to
each other. This implies that die two role occupants also share a
responsibility to maintain social order in the subsystem. In die
second case, any solidarity between the parties must relate to the
next higher system level—that of society as a whole— and their
shared sense of responsibility for system maintenance includes
only an ill-defined obUgation to maintain order in the respective
sub-systems. Since the sense of sofidarity is more dilute at higher
system levels (unless strongly reinforced by a large input of in-
tegration, as in time of war), and the requirements of system
integrity are less clearly defined, performance-sanction interchanges
across sub-system boundaries permit a degree of mutual disregard
of consequences for the stabihty of the opposite sub-system. There
is tiius an element of antagonism and conflict in transactions across

sub-system boundaries,
e. To prevent these antagonisms from getting out of hand certain
controlmechanisms—regulative institutions, and so on (SS 137-150)
—must come into existence. The institutional structures of markets
perform tiiis function in die Economy. (ES ch. Ill)
[Link] of the functional role of the Economy in society,
and of its oivn internal differentiation along functional lines, will

lead to a better understanding of economic processes and of the

processes of institutional change.(ES ch. IV, V)
We cannot, in die space available, do justice to each of the pre-
ceding contentions. Nonetheless, we shall endeavor to indicate the
nature of each of die four sub-systems when viewed in societal
terms; to say sometliing about die Persons’ views concerning
the
organization of the Economy, including its most distinctive institu-
124 • Chandler Morse

tions;and to see what insights, if any, this elaborate analysis may

contribute to an understanding of economic process.
The Macro-structure of Society.
The A-sub-system: The Economy. The Economy, which is
specialized in the adaptive function of society, is regarded as pro-
ducing generalized facilities as means to an indefinite number of
possible uses, these facilities being wealth and income. (ES 47-8; 21)

Negatively .adaptive function] implies the minimization

. . [this
of subjection to control by the exigencies of the external situa-
tion (e.g., floods, famines, shortages, etc.). Positively it implies
the possession of a maximum of fluid disposable resources as
means to attain any goals valued by the system or its sub-units.
The general concept for these disposable resources is wealth
from a static point of view and income from the point of view
of rate of flow. (ES 21)

The Adaptive function is necessarily linked closely to the Goal-

attainment function, since adaptation concerned with “the prob- is

lem of controlling the environment for purposes of attaining goal

states.” In fact,

. when a social system has only a simply defined goal, the

. .

provision of facilities, or the “adaptive” function, is simply an

undifferentiated aspect of the process of goal attainment. (ES
18; italics added)

But in complex systems, with a plurality of goals, tlie distinction

between tlie Adaptive and the Goal-attainment functions is sharp-
ened because it is necessary to pursue many goals that are inter-
mediate; and these goals, from the point of view of society, are
goals of its Adaptive sub-system only. At the societal level, there-
fore, the “differentiation between goal attainment and adaptive
processes is often very clear.” (ES 18)
To clarify the distinctions made in the preceding quotations,
consider tire proprietor of a small restaurant who does all the work
himself. The goal of this little system is to provide meals for cus-

tomers, and tire proprietors responsibility to see tliat the goal-

attaimnent function is discharged requires him to
all the make
decisions concerning what to serve, where and what to buy, what
THE FaNCnONAL IMPERATIVES • 125

price to charge, and so on. His responsibility for the adaptive

function requires him to prepare the food, serve it, pay bills, and
so on. These activities, though distinct in kind, are "‘an undiffer-
entiated aspect of the process of goal attainment” because the G-
and the A-responsibilities are embodied in a single role. But if the
restaurant comes to employ a chef, waiters, cashier, bookkeeper,
all of whom will be engaged in performing tlie adaptive function,

leaving the proprietor free to concentrate on seeing that the job is

well done, the differentiation between the adaptive and the goal
attainment processes tlirough differentiation of roles becomes quite
clear.
The Economy is not identical with what we mean by ‘"business.”

All concrete units, and not only business firms, participate in the

Economy (ES 14). Moreover, business firms are concrete organiza-

tions,each of which contributes to solution of all four system prob-
lems, though primarily to the adaptive. That is, business firms and
other concrete organizations (and roles) are seldom differentiated
perfectly. Hence business firms appear analytically in all four of
the primary functional sub-systems.
The G-sub-system: The Polity. A basic distinction is drawn be-
tween the production of wealtli and income and their actual use
for the attainment of system goals. This seems to mean that there
is conceived to be a basic distinction between (1) the allocation of
resources and (2) the distribution of income. Economic theory
treats these as two aspects of a single process. When Parsons im-
plies that the former is the function of the Economy, the latter
of the Polity, he making a sharp but perhaps important
is therefore
break with a well-established intellectual position.
Wealtli is one, but only one, of the indispensable prerequisites
needed for the Polity to perform its function.

To put it in a slightly different way, the goal of the polity is to

maximize the capacity of the society to attain its system goals,

i.e., collective goals. We define this capacity as power as dis-
tinguished from lyealth . . . [though wealth is] an ingredient
of power. (ES 48)
. . ,

Power the generalized capacity to mobilize the resources of

is

the society, induding wealth and other ingredients such as loyal-

ties, “political responsibility,” etc., to attain particular
,
and more
126 • Chandler Morse

or less immediate collective goals of the system. (ES 49; italics

added)

Thus the goal of the Polity

maximize power. is to
That is why Parsons places the system of banking and finance,
which exercises a measure of control over purchasing power, in the
Pohty. It is also why he says;

Contrary to much
previous opinion, we feel that "classical capi-
talism,” characterizedby die dominance of the role of owner-
ship in the productive process, is not a case of fuU “emancipa-
tion” of the economy from “political” control, but rather a
particular mode of such control. This follows from our view
that ownership is anchored essentially in the polity. (ES 285-6)

Remember Marx? “The State is the executive committee of the

bourgeoisie.”
The I-sub-system. The integrative subsystem of society

... is the “producer” of another generalized capacity to control

behavior analogous to wealth and power [i.e.,] “solidarity.”
. . .

. . . the generalized capacity of agencies in the

Solidarity is

society to “bring into line” die behavior of system units in ac-

cordance with the integrative needs of the system, to check or
reverse disruptive tendencies to deviant behavior, and to pro-
mote the conditions of harmonious cooperation. (ES 49)

It is, of course, possible that the adaptive activities of the mem-

ber units of an action system “may be mutually supportive and
hence beneficial to the :^nctioning of tlie system.” But it is also
possible, and indeed Hkely to a degree, that they “may be mutually
obstructive and conflictful.” (ES 18 ) Hence it becomes necessary
to “produce” a certain amount of solidarity by taking steps to re-
ward good performance by positive sanctions (rewards), to punish
poor performance by negative sanctions ( penalties ) and in general ,

to make tlie member units feel that their activities have been prop-
erly “appreciated.”
The L-stJB-SYSTEM. Performance of the Latency function con-
tributes to system-maintenance. Especially it involves determina-
tion of the extent to which the actual goal-attainment consequences
of any action process have conformed to the norms (ideal expecta-
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES • 127

tions ) Specified or legitimized by the value system, Tlie interaction

of member units performing latent roles is not part of the action
cycle of the system to which the Latency sub-system belongs. The
units are not pursuing system they are merely restoringgoals;
tliemselves and each other to normal functioning states, both as
biological and psychic organisms and as the properly socialized
agents, so to speak, of future action cycles.
The function of the Latency sub-system is to contribute stability
to the institutionalized norms and internalized motivational com-
mitments that constitute the basic structural elements of action
systems. These norms and commitments, says Parsons, tend to
change under pressure of influences arising (a) in the culture sys-
tem and (b) as the result of "abnormar motivational tensions

. arising from ^‘strains” in any part of the social situation or

. .

from organic or other intra-personal sources [which] threaten . . .

individual motivation to conformity with institutionalized role

expectations. (ES 17)

Stabilization against destabilizing influences arising in the culture

system is 'pattern-maintenance”; that against similar influences
arising from strains is "tension-management ” They

. ,differ, from the integrative problem in the sense that they

.

focus on the tmit of the system, not the system itself [hence , . .

latent, which implies that] essential conditions of the larger

functioning, rather than the fvmctioning itself, are involved.
(ES 50) .

Structure and Process in the Economy

The flows among Parsons^ four societal sub-systems, are shown in

Figure 1. The G-sectors * of the A- and L-sub-systems are set in
juxtaposition to each other, as are those of the G- and I-sub-systems.
Bet^veen A and G and L and 1, the flows are handled by the
A-sectors of tlie sub-systems. Two of the other pairs of flows are
handled by the G-sectors and two by the I-sectors. No justification

The term “sector ' is employed here in lieu of the impossible “sub-
sub-system.”
•128 • Chandler Morse

other than diat of diagrammatic symmetry is offered for these

differences.
Another feature is that there is no L-sector and no L-boundary
in any of the sub-systems. The following rather cryptic explanation
is reproduced without essential omission;

The latency subsystem of any larger system is always a special

case relative to ihe other three systems in the sense that it is
‘insulated” from sensitivity to the current performance-sanction
interplay of the larger system with its cognate systems. To be
subsystem of the society has boundary rela-
sure, the latency
with the
tions nonlatent systems.
. . . But its own latency
. . .

subsystem is not contiguous to any subsystem of any other

primary system. [This] “special” boundary of the latency
. . .

subsystem at any given system level is a cultural rather than an

interaction boundary. The latency subsystem maintains value . . .

patterns [which are] not interactive. (ES 69)

. . .

Figure 1 enables us to identify what Parsons regards as the

functional output of each sub-system, since this output goes out
across the G-boundary in each case. The goal of the Economy thus
turns out to be the production of consumer goods and services,
which is considerably narrower than the production of “wealth and
income” referred to earlier. The explanation is that the production
and disposition of capital goods conceived to be a circuit within
is

the Economy, and not to involve an output to the rest of society.

This imphes that production of capital goods is an intermediate
goal of a sector of the Economy which is not shown on the diagram.
The goal (social function) of the L-sub-system is the provision of
labor services to the Economy. The goal of the Polity is “imperative
coordination,” which is unexplained; and the goal of the I-sub-
system is “contingent support,” also unexplained.
The several output flows shown in Figure 1 are the macro-
analogue of performance in the role expectations sense of that
term. There must therefore be balancing flows, analogous to sanc-
tions, in the opposing directions. These are provided by what
Parsons calls the “double interchanges at the boundaries.” These
double interchanges between sub-systems are shown completely
only for the Economy (Figures 2, 3, 4).
^

THE FUNCTIONAL IMPEBATTVES 129

PRODUCTIVITY

*rHE ECONOMY Sub-system Sub-system THE POLITY

CAPITAL
G
Sub-system Sub -system Sub-system Sub-sytem

IMPERATIVE

CO-ORDINATION

/ G
Sub-system Sub-system Sub-system Sub-system
(Aspects of
Household)

PATTERN- INTEGRATIVE
PATTERN CONTENT
MAINTENANCE ^ SYSTEM
A MOTIVATION TO A
SYSTEM PATTERN CONFORMITY
Sub- system Sub-system

We may abstract from this

diagram the general schematic
representation for the primary
boundary interchanges \vithin
any system as follows:

Figure 1# Boundary’ interchanges between the primary sub-systems

of a society, (From Economy and Society p, 68.)
130 • Chandler Morse

To economists, Figure 2 has a familiar yet incomplete appear-

ance. It would be a perfect “circular flow” model for a
peculiar
society that had only households as buyers of goods, only
labor as
a factor of production, and only consumer goods and services as
output. The reason for what seems at first to be a flagrant flouting
of the economic facts of life is that the factors of production other
than labor, and the distributive shares other than wages, are found,
explicitly or implicitly, in tlie other figures. Investigation shows that
they are all accounted for and
although the Parsonian circular
that,
flow differs from the economic, the two can be reconciled.

Ug)
“Economic’* Decisions ‘‘Household*’ Decisions

Decision to Labor Services Decision to accept

offer employment — employment

Wages

Consumer Spending

Decision to Consumer Goods Decision to

produce ^ purchase
and Services

Figure 2« The double interchange between the econoni>^ and the

pattern-maintenance sub-system. (From Economy and
Society^ p. 71.)

Consider the factors of production and the corresponding dis-

Labor and wages are accounted for in Figure 2.

tributive shares.
Land, a somewhat (but not unreasonably) broadened concept, is
said to be a contiibution across the “special” Latency boundary
of the Economy, which appears in none of the figures. In Parsons’
words,

. . . a specific instance of a pattern-maintenance factor.

land is

The common denominator of the three “land” categories—physi-

cal facilities, cultural facilities, and motivational commitments—
is a certain order of control to which they are subject. They are
committed to economic production on bases other than the
operation of short-teim economic sanctions. They are “fed into”
THE FTOCnONAL IMPERATIVES * 131

the econoinic machine prior to current operations; consequently

tirey must be treated as a given determinant of subsequent
processes. (ES 70)

Capital as a factor of production does not appear in the double

interchanges. Instead, there is an item “control over capital funds”
(Figure 3). Capital goods, as indicated earher, are retained Avitliin

(Aa) (Ga)
**Economlo^’ decisions ** Political” Decisions

Control over
Capital Funds

Decisions to borrow or Decisions to supply liquid

otherwise obtain liquid re- resources through crea-
Bouroes tion of capital funds

Ei^ts to Intervene

Encouragement of
productive Enterprise

Ileoisions to capitalize or Decisions to encourage or

otherwise enhance pro- discourage enterprise
duotivity capacity

Control of Productivity
^
Figure 3. The double interchange between the economy and the
polity. (From Economx and Society^ p. 77.)

the Economy its own further use and are counted, presumably,
for
as an addition to wealth. This is a sensible enough procedure, but
one wonders whetlier it was intentional. The sanction for use of
capital fundsis shown in Figure 3 as “rights to intervene,”
and it
appears from textual discussion (ES 27, 75-76) that this category
is meant to provide for the payment of interest.

Finally there is “entrepreneurship” wliich, since the time

of Al-
fred Marshall, has been generally admitted to the circle
of classical
132 • Chandler Morse

factors of production, and its sanction, profit. These are found in

Figure 4.

(Aj)
•‘Eoonomio’^ Decieions “Integrative" Deolslona

Enterpreneurlal Service

Decision to offer oppor- Decision to offer inte-

tunity to entrepreneurs gratlve services to the
economy

Profit

Demand for new

product dombinations

Decision to innovate Decision to change con-

sumption patterns
New output combinations
^
Figure 4. The double interchange between the economy and the
integrative sub-system* (From Economy and Society,
P. 79.)

It thus appears tlrat Parsons has provided a thorough roundup

of economic input, output, and income elements after all. The
major differences between the Parsonian and the standard econo-
mic macro-models are: (1) Parsons’ handling of expenditure, which
is distributed over a number of sectors, and ‘rent,” which has no

specified recipient; (2) the fact that Parsons excludes certain oc-
cupations from the Economy, tlius having, in effect, a category of
“unproductive” labor; * and (3) the fact that there is no explicit
provision for saving or for the return of unsaved rent, interest,
profits, and “unproductive” wages to tire circular flow via pur-
chases of consumer goods and services. We cannot be sure whether
the filling of these gaps would violate any crucial Parsonial prem-
ises, but it seems unlikely. Parsons also includes certain symbolic

® As did Smith and Marx, though their classifications differed.

THE FWCnONAL IMPERATIVES • 133

flows —rights and the hke —that do not appear in stand-

to intervene
ard economic models. All of the postulated flows between the
Economy and the other sub-systems, together with those that are
internal to the Economy, are shown in Figure 5.

Institutional Structure of the Economy.

Contract. The flows that occur within the Economy and be-
tween the Economy and the other sub-systems are visualized as
constituting aggregates of transactions (exchanges). In general,
each flow involves the exchange of an “input” (factor of produc-
tion) for an “inducement.” The process of reaching a contractual
-settlement of terms— designated as “contract”—is seen to involve,

. . first, the process of bargaining for advantage, in which each

.

party, with particular goals and interests and die particular ad-
vantages or disadvantages of his position, seeks to make the best
possible bargain; second, the socially prescribed and sanctioned
rules to which such bargaining processes are subject, such as
the guarantees of interest of third parties, restrictions on fraud
and coercion, and the like. (ES 104-105)

The institutional stnicture of the Economy—the institution of

contract—is concerned with the second of these two sets of de-
terminants; but the outcome of exchange processes will be strongly
by the first of them.
influenced
To see what elements of contract are likely to become insti-
tutionalized necessary to recognize that a transaction links two
it is

distinct systems of action; that the behavior of the transactors must

be and regulated; and therefore that the two behavior
articulated
patternsmust be so integrated that they constitute a “partially
independent social system.” (ES 108) The four functional problems
of this system are identified as:

G The arrival at mutually advantageous terms for the exchange

of primary input for primary output; that is, reciprocal goal-
attainment based on pursuit of self-interest is the goal of a
market viewed as a social system,

A Adaptation to the limiting conditions

( determinants of bar-
gaining power), such as the type of firm represented by a
salesman and the kinds of goods he sells; the income of a
208.)

p.

Society,

and

Economy

(From

economy.

the

of

interchanges

boundary

external

and

inlerna!

The

5.

Figure
136 • Chandler Morse

household and its standards of taste; and the interests of those

(the firm and the family) who are represented by the re-
spective transactors.

I Recognition of the legitimacy of each transactor s goals and of

his normal competitive role behavior; such recognition is rep-
resented by the symbolic value of the ^"secondary” perform-
ances and sanctions that enter into every exchange: approval,
esteem, success, for example.

L The common value pattern, or mutual recognition of the con-

tribution of each transactor to attainment of shared goals: for
example, a common valuation of the social function of pro-
duction, and therefore of all the transactions involved in it.

Markets, Contract finds concrete expression in the institutional

characteristics of markets, which vary according to the nature of
their One of the central problems of
constitutive transactions.
modern economic theory has been to relate market behavior to
market structure. The benchmark type is the "perfect market,” in
which no seller or buyer can influence price. In addition, a great
variety of imperfect markets has been recognized to exist. These
have been classified according to the particular conditions under
which sellers or buyers can influence price, each such set of con-
ditions yielding a different pattern of rational behavior. In economic
theory, the bases of distinction among market structures have been,
principally: the number of sellers or buyers, differentiation of prod-
ucts, ease of entry or exit, and “cross-elasticities” of demand—the
effect of a change in the price of one seller s product on the demand
for that of another.
When Parsons says that “certain economic theories of imperfect
competition concern the G and partially the A components of the
market relationship” (ES 144), and that "there has been a nearly
complete lack of attention to the I- and L-components” (ES 146),
he is referring to these traditional criteria of market structure. His
own approach takes a different line. A
perfect market is defined
as one in is “(1) either sufficient regulation or sufficient
which there
competition so that the settlement of terms is not skewed toward
the advantage of either side,” which implies an “equality of power”
TIIE FUKCnoKAL IMPER/VTTV'ES * 137

and "(2) symmetry o£ ‘t)'pe of interest’” with respect to all the

components except G (“which is the focus of the power factor.”)
“On these grounds, plus the usual economic ones, only a marlcet
internal to the economy can approximate the ideal type of market
perfection closely.” (ES 146)
The most noteworthy aspect of tins approach is its direct rejec-

tion of the initial neo-classical economic view of market perfection.

In that conception, tlie inability of any seller or buyer to influence
price was held to imply that the resulting price, wliich could not be
skewed to the advantage of any market participant, would be “op-
timal”; and it was usually inferred that if every market in a society
was perfect in this sense, and therefore productive of market opti-
mality, the aggregate result would be socially optimal. This, it came
to be realized, would have to mean that the price structure of so-
ciety could not be skewed to the advantage of either sellers as a
whole ws-i-ws buyers, or of buyers vis-ii-vis sellers. Critics of this
view obser\'ed that differences in income distribution (which would
give some buyers more influence than others) would skew results
even under universal “perfect competition,” but this has been about
as far as dissension has gone among economic theorists.” "V^flhle not
denying tlie relevance of this limited criticism, Parsons contends
that skewing necessarily results from tlie fact that initial control
of Uie factors of production lies in the noneconomic sub-systems
of society. (ES 104) In the excliange of factors for products be-
tween these sub-s)'stems and the Economy, tlierefore, the criterion
of “sjnnmetry of interest” is violated. Consequently, such e.\-changes
will be considerably influenced on one side of the market, but not
on the other, by various noneconomic interests and values. Con-
trary to tlie basic tenet of orlliodox economic theory, such ex-
changes cannot be governed entirely by the principles of “eco-
nomic rationality” on the household side of tlie market. Economic
rationality, says Parsons, organizes behavior on tlie basis of a high
valuation of production as a goal, whereas otlier forms of rational-
ity are relevant for systems tliat have noneconomic goals. (ES 176)

” Tl>is is amous inview of Adam Smith’s discussion of the sociologi-

cal factors that gave masters as a group a bargaining advantage'
xis-i-vis Nvoricers.
°
138 • Chandler Morse

This broad approach to the analysis of markets is employed, with

much insightful comment, to point up the important distinction
between the market for personal services and that for property;
and between the markets for ordinary labor, for executive services,
and for professional serviees. In each case, an attempt is made to
show how the nature of the noneeonomie interests of those con-
trolling tlie factor aflFect the terms of exchange. The conelusions
are frequently no different from tliose noted by institutional econo-
mists, socialists, and other critics of neo-classical theory, but their
derivation from a general sociological theory lends them special
interest.A few examples will illustrate,®
Labor unions, it is recognized, have die primary function of cor-
recting the inequality of bargaining power between employers and
workers. Business firms regard die contract of emplojment in eco-
nomic terms, which means that diey would like, if they could, to
treat labor services as a commodity; the worker, manifestly, cannot
do so and retain self-respect and confidence. An important, semi-
ritualisdc function of unions dierefore has been to integrate the
w'orker and his family into a larger collectivity, to lend dignity and
prestige to worker roles, and to give the worker a basis for con-
fidence diat the operation of the system wall take his interests into
more adequate account. Thus “die union helps die worker to recon-
cile his inevitable involvements in bodi firm and household with
each other." (ES 149)
A crucial difference betiveen worker and executii'e is that die
former has a low and the a high level of responsibility in the
latter

firm. Conversely, the worker’s responsibility for die security and

prestige of his household is paramount, whereas a relatively large
share of responsibility for the security of the executive’s household
isassumed by die firm and much of that for prestige by die ivife
(because die demands of the husband’s job are so pressing). More-
over, a liigh level of loyalty to die firm is not a requirement of the
worker role but it is essential for the executive. Whereas the rela-
tionbetween the worker—whose strongest ties are outside the firm
—and the employer is essentially one of hostility (competition).

* Tlie four following paragraplis enlarge upon what appears to be

Parsons’ plain meaning. (ES 146-152)
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPEBATTVES * 139

that between the executive and the firm is one of solidarity (col-
laboration); executives need no "bargaining agency.” The payment
of wages for labor services thus approximates closely to an eco-
nomic exchange, but the payments of salaries for executive services
is more in the nature of a transfer, in which the quid and quo are

not expected by either party to be in precise balance, and in which

tlie symbolic aspects of a large salary, a twelve-hour day and seven-

day week, and a secure position are of great importance.

Hie market for professional sendees has yet a different character.
The professional is expected above all to be loyal to the ideas,
ethics, and standards of his profession rather dian to the employer.
In case of conflict of interests, “his freedom to give weight to
‘professional integrity’ is at least an imphed element in the contract
of employment.” (ES 152) In the civil service and in higher aca-
demic posts, formal security of tenure protects the professional
against the danger tliat this implicit element will not be respected
in time of tension. In the case of civil servants, loyalty to the public
interest might transcend tliat to the party in power; in the case of
teachers, loyalty to ideas may take precedence over loyalty to a
particular university (or even a particular form of society).
Thus, the right of the professional to be rather neutral as regards
loyalty to his employer contrasts with an expectation of solidarity
for executives and hostility for workers. In terms of the model,
workers in the mass, when viewed Econ-
in die perspective of the
omy, take on the appearance of a mere element in the "situation of
action”— a mass of labor power to be manipulated in the process of
production. The labor problem arises because this view is in con-
flict widi that of the workers, who need to become integrated mem-

bers of the firm or the Economy as a social system. The fact that
this does not always happen, and usually happens imperfectly at
best, is an aspect of what Marx identified as "alienation,” An im-
portant function of labor unions, then, according to the argument
advanced earlier, is to de-ahenate the worker. Executives, by con-
trast, are in a position to determine who shall not be treated as
integrated members of the firm or the Economy, and for what pur-
poses. That is, executives are in a favorable position to influence
resolution of the self-collectivity dilemma in the interests of the
firm (and of themselves). Many professionals are not employed by
140 • Chandler Morse

firms but by universities, research agencies, or households, the

primary function of which is to contribute to solution of the L-
problem. The fact that, in these cases, neither party to the con-
tract of employment has a primarily economic (adaptive) function
has a great deal to do with the important part that noneconomic
elements play in the professional contract of employment.
Some Observations on Economic Process. Hoping to demonstrate
that fourfold analysis of social structure can contribute di-
tlie

rectly to the solution of theoretical problems in economics, the

authors of Economy and Society address themselves in Chapter IV
to business cycle theory. The attempted demonstration fails. Some
valid observations are made concerning the processes of consumption
and investment, the contention being that the conceptualization and
empirical investigation of these processes would be improved if
sociological determinants were taken into account. Several of these
determinants are specified, but it is most unlikely tliat gain would
result from efforts to incorporate them in economic analysis. Family
spending patterns, for example, are said to involve four categories
of expenditure, each of which is designed to solve one of the basic
system problems. Whether or not this be true, economists have
observed tliat expenditure patterns of families differ according
to income level (roughly proportional to social status) and that
hypotheses concerning tlie form of the consumption function and
changes in it through time should take this into account. To assert

that different spending patterns reflect the differing solutions' to

the four problems appropriate to families occupying different social
positions seems to add notliing of value for tlie deteimination of
tlie consumption function.
The discussion of tlie investment function is equally sterile. The
fact that tlie investment market is relatively unstructured, leaving

a great deal of room to maneuver, is made the basis for some inter-

esting observations concerning stock market behavior, but little

else of consequence is offered.

A discussion of the structure of the Economy and its internal

processes precedes the commentary on the business cycle. The

Economy, like society, is viewed as comprised of four sub-systems,
as follows (ES 198ff.):
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPE^TIVES • 141

G Production sub-system
A Investment-capitalization sub-system
I Entrepreneurial sub-system
L Economic commitments sub-system

Each of these sub-systems, wdiichis further subdivided according

to tlie fourfold schema, has interchanges over its ‘"open” boundaries

ivith each of the otlier sub-systems. All this is shown in Figure 5,
which also shows the “external” interchanges of the Economy with
die otlier societal sub-systems.
The descriptive justification for this elaborate framework is not
always clear or convincing. Some specific complaints against it

will be registered in die two concluding sections.

C. POTENTIALITIES OF THE IIMPERATIVES

FOR SOCIETAL ANALYSIS

Economic and Noneconomic Rationalities

as Determinants of Human Behavior

That Parsonian dieory will stand as a massive landmark in the

intellectual development of die social sciences is scarcely open to
doubt; diat most of it will undergo fundamental revision is equally
probable. There is much diat is dubious in the theory, and much
in the exposition that is otiose. Often there are chasms between the
dieoretical abstractions and the concrete reality whose inner mean-
ing diey purport to illuminate. The concepts are strange, widi a
frequent ring of irreality about them, and ambiguities abound. Yet
these are all. remediable faults, provided only that diere is a hard
central core of meaning that can and should be preseived. The
contention here is diat Aere is such a core of meaning.
Most major dieoretical advances rest
on an essentially simple yet
fundamental For Adam Smith it was the principle of the
insight.
self-regulating economy, achieved through competitive application
of the rules of economic rationality (as epitomized in the metaphor
of the “invisible hand”). For Darwin, it was die principle of natural
selection,achieved through a competition conducted according to
purely biological rules. For .Parsons it is die principle that
society
142 • Chandler Morse

as a whole achieves self-regulation through tlie application of

several distinct rationalities-each of which is the cumulative product
of learning through experience-to die solution of certain peculiarly
social problems, and through the institutionalization of a vast num-
ber of behavioral rules which in part embody these rationalities
and in part complement them. The term "rationality” is used here
to signify a commonly accepted set of problem-solving procedures
tliatare regarded as appropriate in a defined context. (Compare
die footnote on p. 145 infra.) Thus, economic rationality is appro-
priate in a market context for deciding whedier to raise wages,
but not in a philanthropic context whedier to increase
for deciding
one’s gifts to the poor. The rationality of “pattern-maintenance and
tension-management” is perhaps applicable in the second case.
Until Parsons, only economics among all the social disciplines
could be said to have a rational foundation for its theoretical
formulations. That is, economics alone postulated a set of objective
rules that could be said to guide, or could be appealed to as appro-
priate guides for, goal-seeking behavior. That it was able to do so
was undoubtedly responsible for its tiieoretical sophistication; its
relative success in die realm of practical policy may be taken as
evidence diat its rationality postulate has a considerable measure
of empirical validify. The form and content of the rules for econom-
ically rational action may vary with the concrete structure of the
society in which they are to be applied, but diere appears to be
an invariant quality diat carries over from one type of society to
another—for example, from capitalist to socialist societies.
Parsons has opened the way for other social disciplines to acquire
distinctive rationalities of this same type. The hypothesis concern-
ing the rational foundations of action process was stated initially
in The Structure of Social Action, where it was epitomized in the
following words:

The starting point, botli historical and logical, is the conception

of intrinsic rationality of action. This involves the fundamental
element of “ends,” “means” and “conditions” of rational action
and die norm of the intrinsic means-ends relationship. The ra-
tionality of action in terms of the latter is measured by tlie con-
formity of choice of means, within the conditions of the situation,
with the expectations derived from a scientific theory (however
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES • 143

elementary and empirical) applied to the data in question. .. .

Action in tliese terms is rational in so far as there is a scientifi-

cally demonstrable probability that tire means employed will,
witliin the conditions of the actual situation, bring about or
maintain the future state of affairs that the actor anticipates
as his end. (SA 698-9)

The next step (General Theory and Working Papers) was to

sense the possibility of different rationalities, each differentiated
according to the character of ends and the appropriateness of
means; to postulate that there was a minimum number of mutually
independent objective and subjective “dimensions” (the pattern
variables) according to which ends and means could be con-
ceived, perceived, and evaluated; and to postulate further that
tlierewas a minimum number of basic functional problems— specif-
ically,four— that had to be “solved” by any social system that was
to suiAuve. These four functional prolilems represent four distinct
(yet interdependent) social “ends,” and constitute the basis of four
corresponding rationalities, die simultaneous appheation of which
is responsible for tlie ways in which social systems function. Within

a rather undifferentiated social sj'stem, such as a primitive family

or tribe, consistency among the four rationalities and their applica-
tion is achicA'ed by tlie institutionalization of role patterns together
with the opportunity for adjustment by direct settlement of con-
flicting interests. Notwithstanding, there may be conflicts; tliey
are possible even within the personahty system! When a society
becomes highly differentiated, so that tlie appheation of each
becomes a function of specialized roles, the possibilities
rationalit)'

of inconsistency become far more numerous (tliough not neces-

sarily more serious). The degree of consistency achieved is a deter-
minant of the stability or instability of tlie system, any inconsistency
among the four tjqpes of rationality or their appheation being a
particularly important source of conflict and, potentially, of change.
The
pattern variables are properly to be regarded as the “ele-
mentarj' particles” from w'hich a plurahty of concrete evaluations
is constructed. Similarly, the four functional problems are to be
regarded as the (related) elementaiy^ particles from which is con-
structed a iilurality of concrete ends; and the corresponding ration-
alities are the elemental components of all concrete systems of
144 • Chandler Morse

action, where “action” is defined as goal-seeking behavior

and is
held to be rational to the degree that the behavior-that is, tlie
mobilization of means—is cognitively controlled.
One is entitled,
of course, to doubt that Parsons has correctly
identified the postulated elements. Further developments may sug-
gest quite different sets, and there may never be final agreement
on what elements are. Yet the hypothesis tliat there is an
tlie

identifiable set of such elements promises to introduce far more

rigor than hitherto into the noneconomic social disciplines. It also
points the way to a much needed modification of economic theory;
for permits account to be taken of the limiting effect of non-
it

economic rationalities upon the exercise of economic rationality

without destroying the content of the latter (as some critics would
do) and so tossing out the baby \vith the bath.
One may also question the implied proposition that societies
must “solve” the fmn functional problems in order to survive. As
there isno criterion of “solution” other than the fact of survival
itself, the proposition implies that mere survival may be taken as
evidence that a society’s value system and social structure are
“functional.” The proposition that solution of the functional prob-
lems is necessary for survival is stronger than necessary, however.
It may be replaced by the weaker empirical hypothesis that all

social action consists of the pursuit of concrete ends which, on

analysis, will be found to involve attempts to solve all of the
postulated functional problems, with wide variability in the quality
of the actual outcome. Survival would thus be consistent with social
action that yielded exceedingly poor results by any standard of

evaluation we might choose. The quality of the consequences of

action, relative to some realistically postulated standard, would
therefore be a possible alternative to survival as a criterion for
determining whether or not a value system and social structure
were functional; and a decline from any achieved level of quality',
rather than reduced chances of survival, would be evidence of
malfunctioning.
Finally, we must
note that Parsons has not attempted to suggest
its equivalent to be applied in the pur-
a costs-benefits calculus or
suit of noneconomic ends. That is, no empirical procedure com-
parable to that which lies at the foundation of economic theory
TIIE FUNCriON/VL IMPERATI\^ • 145

is proposed for choosing among alternative metliods of performing

the functions of goal attainment, integration, and latency. Nor is

any rational procedure proposed for setting priorities among tlie

four functions when this is rendered necessary by scarcity of
means. Parsonian theorj' implies tliat such rational procedures exist
but it endows them widi no material basis. This is important unfin-
ished business. It requires that noneconomic values, both negative
(costs) and positive (benefits), be given an empirical content and
measurability analogous to tliat for economic values. The rational
procedures available to a society for ma.\imizing benefits and
minimizing costs are determined by its sociocultural level." With
knowledge or imputation of such procedures it would become
possible to determine whether they are consistent with each other,
to indicate tlie empirical consequences that would follow from
their application, and to identify tlieir efiFects on the quality of a
societ)'’s functioning.
Questions and Suggestions Concerning
Structural Differentiation

A
major virtue of the fourfold functional schema, but also a
source of difllcult)', is that it combines elements tliat are rooted
firmly in individual psychology (goal-oriented and adaptive behav-
ior) with elements tliat have a peculiarly social and cultural
significance ( integrativ'^e behavior and maintenance of tlie value
structure). A great deal of The General Theory and The Social
System is devoted to establisliing that the social and cultural
elements must be and are embodied in the personality, thus estab-
lishing an essential link among the four elements. But this necessary
link will also be sufficient only if the [Link] of collective goals

' This statement implies that: (a) solutions to social problems in all
societies, however primitive, reflect the influence of reasoning; (b)
tliere is somctliing in the reasoning process-call it logical inference—
which is independent of empirical reference, although different pat-
terns of inference may exist and are in fact observed; (c) the available
inference procedures, togetlier with die perceivable qualities of ob-
jects, the belief sj'stem, the values to be manipulated, and the ends to
be sought, determine tlie rational procedures available to any society;
(d) it is legitimate, in die absence of direct empirical evidence to the
contrarj', to impute to societies the rational procedures available
to
them by virtue of dieir know-n (or postulated) sociocultural levels.
146 • Chandler Morse

is ignored or assumed away. If, for example, one is prepared to

accept the premise of neo-classical economics that aU economic
behavior represents the pursuit of individual goals, where each
actor attempts to maximize his personal values and takes rational
account of the consequences of action only for liimself;*' and if one
therefore regards the economic system as governed by “consumers’
sovereignty,” tlie embodiment of common social and cultural ele-
ments in personality systems suffices to establish the presumption
that a certain orderliness can be achieved in the operation of
society without collective action in pursuit of social goals. But in
this case, goal-attainment and adaptation would be functional
imperatives of personality systems only, not of social systems. The
only sense in which one could speak of the attainment of social
goals, ofmaximizing social welfare, would be in the sense of some
aggregate of individual goals. This is precisely the sense in which
these terms are used in modem welfare economics; and the prob-
lem of definition and aggregation has been a fruitful source of
difficulty and controversy .f
Parsons opposes the foregoing ^^ew unequivocally. The Structure
of Social Action is an extended essay designed to show that neither
an individualistic-hedonistic nor a mechanistic theory of action will
do. Economy and Society is more explicit:

The goal of the economy is not simply the production of income

for tlie utility of an aggregate of individuals. It is the maximiza-
tion of production relative to die whole complex of institutional-
ized value-systems and functions of the society and its sub-
systems. As a matter of fact, if we view the goal of the economy
as defined strictly by socially structured goals, it becomes inap-
propriate even to refer to utility at this level in terms of indi-
vidual preference fists. The categories of wealth, utility, and
. . .

income are states or properties of social systems and their units

and do not apply to the personality of the individual except
through die social system. (ES 22; all italics added except the
last)

® “take rational account of consequences” is to avoid costs and

To
seek benefits for Ae appropriate reference system, whether an in-
dividual or group. The neo-classical economic premise excludes the
possibility that a group might be an appropriate reference system,
t See, for example, Tibor Scitovsky,
‘"The State of Welfare Eco-
nomics,” American Economic Review, Vol. XLI (1951), pp. 302-15.
THE FUNCnOlSrAIi IMPERATIVES 147

The proposition that social systems can have goals, and can
seek facihties for their attainment (adaptation), is impHcit in the
fourfold schema and very nearly explicit in the foregoing passage.
Vidiat is is the transition from individual ends and
not explicit
means to socialends and means; from a concept and explanation
of individual behavior to a concept and explanation of collective
behavior. The opposition between the individuahstic and the col-
lectivistic views of social acton is posed but the reconcihation is
incomplete. It incomplete because no attempt has been made
is

to put meaning into the concepts of social ends and social means.
To put it briefly, goal-seeking takes on social character when
and group) takes rational
to the extent tliat the actor (individual or
account of the consequences of his action for others than himself.
A. C. Pigou made use of tliis notion in his distinction bet\veen
“private” and “social” methods of calculating economic benefits
(ends) and costs (means), but the principle, diough frequently
employed in economic analysis, appears to have far wider implica-
tions and applications than have yet been developed.® Thus,
Parsons’ “self-collectivity dilemma,” tliough posed as a problem of
deciding whether to treat other actors as members or as non-
members of a given social system, can readily be broadened to
cover the problem of whether to take wide or limited account of
consequences—tliat is, whether to pursue a more individualistic
or a more collectivistic course of action. The individual then stands
at one end of a “self-collectivity” continuum with all mankind at
die odier end.t
In organized societies, where die number of decisions that any
individual can make -without affecting others is exceedingly limited
the self-collectivity dilemma is pervasive. Societies tiiat are organ-
ized on a primitive, communahstic basis resolve the dilemma to
a large extent by “pre-deciding” it and institutionaHzing the deci-
sion in various ways. More complex societies have not solved the

® A. C. Pigou, Economics of Welfare, 4lii ed. (London: Macmillan,

1932). For examples of empirical applications of the distinction be-
tween private and social benefits and costs see K. W. Kapp, The Social
Costs of Private Enterprise (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University

f Compare Tom Paine: **My coimtry is the world.”

148 • Chandler Morse

problem in tliis way—perhaps they cannot— and the fact that they
have not raises certain fundamental issues which bulk large in
Marxian analysis but are ignored or slighted by Parsons,
These issues concern the need for social systems to embody:
(1) an ideology tliat defines efi^ective social ends and appropriate
social means; (2) a set of hierarcliically superior roles, with respon-
sibility, authority, and power make
the ideology effective; (3)
to
criteria for determining the eligibihty of candidates for these roles;

(4) standards by which to select particular role incumbents from

among the eligible candidates; (5) standards by wliich to allocate
rewards among incumbents of top social roles vis-a-vis other roles;
(6) mechanisms by wliich to apply the ideology, that is, to coordi-
nate behavior tliroughout the social system (or sub-system) in the
interest of employing the appropriate means for the attainment of
the effective social goals. Corollary issues involve the extent to which
different ideologies, social goals, and liierarchies can coexist within
the same social system; the extent of the need for compatibility
between tlie subordinate ideologies, goals, and hierarchies of sub-
systems with those of superordinate systems and with each other;
and die processes by which such ideologies, goals, and hierarchies
change.
Parsons perhaps considers diat he has dealt with these issues.

What he calls the dominant value system of a society could be held

to constitute its ruling ideology, and the hierarchy of values by
which performances and qualities are ranked could be said to
establish the liierarchy of roles that forms the basis of social class
distinctions.* Consider also his statement that the

. .business community is responsible for a conspicuous output

.

of ideological matter which expresses business leaders’ concern

-for matters of organizational responsibility with special reference
to the “principles” on which tlie whole economy is organized.
This concern we beheve derives from the integrative and value
aspects of their roles, not primarily from their “economic inter-
ests” in the usual sense. (ES 151)

**
See his article, Analytical Approach to the Theory of
"A Revised
Social Stratification,” in Bendix and Lipset, eds.. Class, Status,
and
Power (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press, 1953), pp. 92-128.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES * 149

Furthermore, allocation to the G-sub-system of the function of

mobilizing power, and its designation as ‘Tolity’^ at the societal
level, suggest that Parsons regarded this sub-system as standing

in a hierarchical relation to the rest. So does the statement that

"the focus of tlie executive role as we ordinarily understand it, is
on responsibility for system goal attainment/’*^ But there is a strong
implication in the Administrative Science Quarterly articles, and
even more in Smelser s new study,! executive decision-making
roles are to be found in each of the sub-systems (except, possibly,
Latency).
iiMbst of tliis is extremely sketchy. Moreover, there are several
difficulties.

<;^irst, tlie existence of social goals and of social (collective) goal-

seeking behavior taken for granted, with no specification of
is

how social goals get defined, or of how social goal-seeking differs

from individual?- It is implicitly assumed that tiie means-ends schema
can be taken over from individual behavior and applied to social
behavior witliout justification or explanation. In Working Papers
goal attainment means "consummatory
gratification,” a concept of
one as only mildly inappropriate
individual psychology that strikes
when carried over to the analysis of small group behavior. But in
Economy and Societtjy goal attainment has become the "capacity
of tlie society to attain its system goals, i.e., collective goals,” where
capacity is “power from wealth” (ES 48) Indi-
as distinguished
vidual psychology has been pushed aside but no clue is provided
concerning the steps by which transition to the new conceptualiza-
tion was effected.
'.Second, the possibility that a “social class”
might also be a con-
crete social system,with functional needs and sub-systems of its
own, receives no consideration. Such a class (which need not be
hereditary) may be dominated by individuals who occupy roles
with the same functional primacy, but it would not be identical
to any of the functional sub-system^(
G, A, I, or L).
Third, there is a tendency to widen the spread of decision-making
roles, from an initial concentration in the G-sub-system to a distri-

* Ibid.,
p. 114.
f Smelser, Social Change in the Industrial Revolution, pp. 24ff.
.

150 • Chandler Morse

bution over three and perhaps all four of the sub-systems. This
appears to have sprung from a recognition that social goal-seeking
requires superior coordination to supplement the built-in types of
coordination described in Section II. At times there has been a
tendency to identify such coordination with the integrative function
(ES 48-9); at other times to suggest that the integrative problem is
concerned only with coordination in the interests of system-mainte-
nance, leaving that required in the interests of task-performance to
be provided otherwise (by tlie G-sub-systern? )
<;^A fourth difficulty, correlative with tlie third, is the problem
of locating technical role behavior, particularly that associated
with worker roles^This problem was ignored up to and including
Economy and Society, but in Smelser ** these roles are located in
the Latency sub-system of tlie industry (and Economy, by implica-
tion).No hint is given of how to square this with the concept of
Latency as developed in Working Papers and even in Economy
and Society.
Are tliese and otlier omissions and ambiguities merely tire care-
less consequence of rapid Avork? No doubt to a degree tliey are. But
they also appear to be the consequence of Parsons’ basic concern
witli tlie sources of order in social systems. A society in which there
was universal membership in a single collectivity, universal partici-
pation in a single task-performance process, perfect conformity to
role expectations, and perfect consequent attainment of all social
and personal goals might be regarded as the prototype of “perfect
social order.” System-maintenance problems would not arise. Such
a society would have no need for power over men, but only over
tilings; no need for superior coordination, but only for built-in

coordination; no need for a superior ideology or a hierarchy to

maintain it; and no need for “self-orientation vs. collectivity-orien-
tation” to define the relations between systems placed in a hier-
archical order. Parsons clearly does not intend to imply that actual

* Op. cit., pp. 24 and [Link] that such roles are mainly con-
The
cerned with transformation processes ratlier than transactions may
have been justification for ignoring them in earlier work. Tliere is
much to be said for regarding technical role behavior as simply tlie
means by which role responsibilities are discharged, and therefore as
external to the social system.
THE FUNCTIONAL IMPERATIVES • 151

societies conform to diese specifications of perfect social order. He

believes that maintenance of order is a major problem, but liis
belief diat order cannot be maintained solely by coercion leads him
to stress the importance of the internalized ordering processes of
system-maintenance. Tiiis stress, which might be regarded as the

antitliesis of Marx’s tliesis of social conflict (in noncommunistic

societies), leadsParsons to regard power as an interesting side-
phenomenon rather tlian a central feature of social systems.
It is probably more correct to regard power as a major element
in its own right, possibly tied to a fifth functional imperative-
superior coordination.® Had he regarded power in tliis way, Par-
sons might have seen tliat effective social goals are of necessity
those tliat are desirable from tlie standpoint of the powerful. This
might have led him to see that hierarchical definition and enforce-
ment of social goals diminishes in proportion as the distribution of
power is equalized, and to inquire into the process by which the
devolution of power from the few to the many changes the char-
acter of effective social goals, bringing them more into line wath
an equalitarian concept of the public interest and the general
welfare, and moving society an important step closer to “per-
fection” of social order. He might then have seen in this a clue
to the meaning of policy-determination, as something that must
stand outside and above the essentially administrative processes of
task-performance and system-maintenance. A hierarchy of com-
mand to coordinate complexly differentiated processes, to assure
consistency of intermediate goals with each other and especially
wth ultimate goals, is a technical necessity: It requires superiority
of position (role relationship) and of autliority, this being the
essence of an administrative hierarchy. But it is an open question
whether or to what extent the selection or legitimation of tlie goals
to be sought by an administrative hierarchy requires the existence
of a social hierarchy, including a power structure that enables the

® There is hint of this possibility

in the reference to the four im-
peratives “plus the factor of relative importance or 'weight’ [=
power;
FSI, 45, 75, 151] of a unit in a system,” as the basic variables of a
system^. (ES 37) Consider also the reference to the “superiority
and
power” of the position of the executive within an organization. (ES
152 • Chandler Morse

higher classes to determine social goals governing all classes. That

administrative and social hierarcliies tend to be found in mutually
dependent association is an empirical fact that may reflect imper-
fection of social integration rather than ineluctable necessity. In
any case, it is clear that the methods of policy-determination, the
character of political activity, and the organization of the polity
vary according to the land and degree of social stratification,
j^he foregoing distinction between administration and policy—
that is, between task-performance and system-maintenance, on the
one hand, and over-all direction of society as a whole on the other
—would require some revision of Parsonian theory but would seem
to introduce no insoluble problems. On the contrary, it appears
likely to resolve certain diflSculties and, perhaps, to point toward
a more eflFective theoretical synthesis of the interplay of cooperation
and conflict in human aflFairsl!^
I THE
Alfred L. Baldwin

I
PARSONIAN
I
THEORY
i
OF
I PERSONALITY

THE sociologist’s APPROACH TO PERSONALITY

The theory of personality developed by Parsons is

not merely another variety of the perennial crop of per-

sonality tlieories. It has a genuine new look and explores a
dimension not commonly found in psychological theories.
Its novelty as well as some of its preoccupations seems to

reflect Parsons’ approach to psychological problems from

the functional viewpoint in sociology.
One consequence of his approach is that personality
theory not intrinsically very important to him. His real
is

commitment is to the problem of stability and change in

a complex social system, not to the conceptualization of
,

individual personality. Nobody, however, who is attempt-

ing an inclusive theory of the whole of social science can
154 • Alfred L. Baldwin

ignore the personality of the individual, because the social system

operates and functions tlirough the behavior of individuals. The
individual is the cog-or the monkey wrench-in the social ma-
chine.
From such a viewpoint the most relevant features of the indi-
vidual personality are those that affect his social functioning. If
there are psychological differences that make no difference as
far as the social system is concerned, their investigation is quite
properly to be left to those witli more individualistic interests.
The psychologist looking at Parsonsmay therefore find some of
his own favorite and controversies ignored; or he
distinctions
may find them handled in cavaher fashion. On the whole, how-
ever, the psychologist should refrain from showing his teeth over
such issues. Instead, he should direct his attention to those aspects
of the theory that are most relevant to the conceptualization of
the individual in the social system.
A
second consequence of being a sociologist is that the funda-
mental problem of personality theory looks different from the way
it does to the personality psychologist. Anybody who looks at
society in any detail must have tire impression that the coordina-
tion of individual efforts into a smoothly functioning society is

a stupendous task, and the machinery of coordination seems

remarkably loose, fumbling, and vulnerable to individual whim.
One is tempted to conclude, “It can’t work—it can’t possibly work.”
It is clear that a major job of coordination is involved in main-
taining the social order. No
group of individuals acting at random
could supply themselves with food, clothing and shelter, let alone
providing for procreation of tlie society and its maintenance in
the face of hostility. Even if all the individuals were merely cogs,
the task would be immense.
But the functional sociologists insist— and the facts support them
—that the task is made even more diflBcult by the unfortunate
recalcitrance of the individual personality. Maintaining the social
system is somewhat like keeping an unruly mob in some semblance
of order. It achieved by a variety of devices: providing individ-
is

ual rewards for collectivity-oriented behavior; imposing punish-

ments for social deviance; establishing a social-emotional specialist
whose job it is to maintain individual cooperativeness and morale
raE PARSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALirY * 155

when it is strained by the necessities of group task activity; allow-

ing holidays of individualistic goal gratification following periods

of task-oriented behavior; and instituting phases of inspirational
retreat wherein individual commitments to group values are tem-
porarily heightened and polished before another sally into the
cold cruel world.
Anybody who began the study of personality after gazing
would find his point of view colored
intently at such a spectacle
by the experience. He would wonder whence comes this intran-
sigence of the individual actor; is it original sin, short-sighted
stupidity, bad preparation during childhood? Perhaps even
or
more important, why doesn’t the whole system blow up in our
faces? The fact that these are not tlie questions initially raised
hy the usual personality theorist makes a big difference in the
kind of theory that emerges.
If his functionalism is a strong factor shaping the theory of
Parsons, there is also a more idiosyncratic factor that plays an
equally important role. Besides being a sociologist. Parsons might
be called a unitary isomorphist. He sees all tire phenomena of the
social world, institutions, societies, personalities, processes, defenses
and taxonomic classifications as formally isomorphic to each other.
In this same pattern, he pictures almost every phenomenon as a
nest of boxes containing parts within parts within parts, each
isomorphic to the whole. Such a conviction appears on many occa-
sions to bring Parsons into conflict with facts, but he sticks to
his guns and is never satisfied to leave a personality concept with-
out its parallel in the social system.

THE CONCEPTUALIZATION OF PERSON IN SOCIETY

If we accept conflict and reconciliation between individ-

ual and society as a basic problem for personality theory, it would
be well to consider how such a problem might be theoretically
descrihed. A survey of alternative forms of theoretical representa-
tion will make it clear how Parsons sees the problem, although thi'g

survey is not itself a part of Parsonian theory.

156 • Alfred L. Baldwin

In theories of behavior, eonflict of the person with society is

usually represented as a conflict with the environment—we will
come later to the special problems of representing the environment
as a social one. To make the problem extremely simple at first,
consider the behavior of a blind bumbling organism whose actions
are restrained only by actual physical fences, or other absolute
barriers. Furthermore, endow
organism with a single simple
this
motivational mechanism, a set of desires for various types of goal
objects found in the environment. Notice that already restrictions
have been located in the external world and motivation in die
organism.
Actually, this situation could be represented in tliree ways.
1. The individual could be endowed \vith desires and abilities
and his behavior could be seen as his attempts to gratify liis desires
in die face of his own weaknesses. In other words, the conflict
could be made internal to the person. In this case, the environment
would be described in terms of die properties that made certain
actions difficult or easy, desirable or repulsive.
2. The environment might be pictured as containing barriers and
impositions on tiie one hand, and valences (attractive or unat-
tractive) on die other. Now die person is conceived as merely a
point of reference and the conflict lies in the fact that some of the
positive valences are inaccessible. Both the motivations and the
restrictions are attributed to the environment.
3. The environment might be represented as containing the bar-
riers, and the person represented as having the needs. Now the
person is pictured as struggling against the environment to satisfy

his needs. Probably this model resembles most closely the “man in

the street’s” view of the world. We generally tend to see ourselves

as motivated and die environment as oflFering helps or hindrances.
This picture will be especially suitable if the barriers of the
environment are so strong as to be impassable to anyone, i.e., essen-
tially the same for all people, while different people strive for dif-
ferent goals, so that the valences differ from one person to another.
The same tiiree basic alternatives still exist when new sorts of

causal factors are introduced. If some of the restrictions upon

behavior or some of the impositions upon the individual operate
through sanctions rather than through actual barriers, then certain
THE PARSONIAN THEORY OF PEBSONALITY • 157

markers or signs in the environment act as if they were actual

restraints upon behavior. For the behavior tlieorist, these restraints
may be located in the environment, and not in the person; or they
may be conceptuaUzed as needs of the person to avoid punishment
or attain reward. In the latter case, the struggle of the individual

against the restraints of society is viewed as a conflict of motives.

Again naive behavior theory tends to attribute the restraints on be-
havior to the environment, especially if tliey are strong enough to

restrain everybody. In everyday language, the individual may be

forced to behave tiirough fear for his life and not be considered re-
sponsible for his acts; he is not, however, relieved of his responsibility
by the existence of a very large reward contingent upon his behavior.
We do not assume that every man has his price. Moral imperatives
and taboos are especially Hkely to be attributed to the environment
because they are shared by almost all of the society and are morally
absolute, i.e., are to be respected regardless of the strength of the
opposing motivation.
No single tlrese views of tire person in the environment is
one of
"right.” one is rigorous in his conceptualizing they are
In fact, if

all tliree wrong. But each remains useful for certain purposes. The

danger hes in the fruitless controversy that may stem from tlie
tacit acceptance of different models by different people. Thus, an
argument tliat sometimes arises between sociologists and psycholo-
gists is whedier "role” is a personality concept or an environmental

concept. For many purposes, it is convenient to attribute it to the

environment since it is a stable feature of behavior that elicits the
same behavior from all who have tlrat role. For other purposes it
is convenient to think of role as a personality characteristic.
It is important, however, not to mix the two viewpoints haphaz-
ardly. A serious difficulty a personality psychologist finds in Parsons’
writings is the vagueness with which Parsons treats these theo-
retical issues. Wliile Iris intent seems reasonably clear, namely, to
view the personality as an interdependent set of need-dispositions,
internalized social objects, role-expectations and values, he unfor-
tunately says something quite different whenever he is explicit
on the matter. Tins unfortunate conflict betv'een Parsons’ intention
and performance will become increasingly apparent as the theo-
retical system is presented.
158 • Alfred L. Baldioin

NEED-DISPOSITIONS

The concept winch must furnish the starting point for an

explication of the Parsonian theory of personality is need-disposi-
tion. Need-dispositions are the fundamental units of the person-
ality system. In Parsons’ formal description of his theoretical
concepts (GTA), need-dispositions are in fact the on/j/ units in
the system. In tlie isomorphism between the personality system
and the social system, need-dispositions correspond to individual
people. Thus the essential conceptual model seems to be of the
personality as a set of individual need-dispositions whose gratifica-
tions are neitlier entirely compatible with each other nor wholly
possible witliin the impositions of the environment. These units
are integrated, coordinated, and modified by value standards, role-
expectations and the like, in tlie interests of maintaining the
personality system and optimizing gratification witliin tlie limita-
tions of tlie environment.
^^diat is a need-disposition? The hyphenization is intended to
suggest that it involves both an activity (a performance) and a
type of satisfaction (a sanction). Hunger, for example, involves
eating as an activity and tlie gratification that comes witli it.
Parsons does not go into more detail; tlie implication seems to
be that the performance aspect of a need-disposition is the con-
summatoiy activity associated widi gratification. Sometimes, how-
ever, Parsons suggests that tlie performance is an instrumental
action for obtaining tlie satisfaction, as for example when achieve-
ment is the performance and approval the sanction, but presum-
ably unless the achievement itself is gratifying in the same sense
that eating is gratifying, we would not label achievement a
need-disposition.
A need-disposition reflects a categorization botli of actions and
of environmental events. All members
one class of acts are
of
called examples of the same performance, and all members of an
associated class of environmental events are called the same
sanction. Personality tlieorists have come to no consensus on the
appropriate methods of categorizing these events. The most com-
mon motivational unit is the need, which seems essentially like
THE PARSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 159

need-disposition as Parsons uses it. The basis for the categorization

of the acts more intuitive than explicit; usually the
and events is

basis of categorization some vague similarity of the act and the

is

associated events. Dependence, for example, is marked by ego

being influenced by alter, asking alters advice, etc., all of which
are viewed as having some inherent similarity. In the usual set of
needs, tlie need does not specify the alter. Dependence as a need
for dependent relationships usually connotes that it is the nature of
the relationship rather tlian the particular alter that is essential

for its satisfaction.

If we
look at the types of need-dispositions Parsons describes,
we shall see some of the theoretical problems that are involved.
One type of need-disposition relating to social objects is exemplified
by the need for esteem, approval, response, or love. Consider tlie
activities that reflect ego’s love for alter. Ego wants contact with
alter, both physically and tlirough intellectual exchange, and he

wants emotional understanding. If alter wants some goal object,

egos love for alter makes ego want alter to have that goal. If
some outside person is ego is hostile to the out-
hostile to alter,
sider. The activities in this range have no particular behavioral
similarity as do the various acts of eating, or striving for excellence,
and the like. Instead, the invariant in the set of actions lies in the
object rather than in the acts themselves. In many theories ego’s
love for alter would be called a sentiment and would be taken as
sufficient motivation for the various actions involved. Parsons in-
stead speaks of a need-disposition for love that is gratified by

loving alter and being loved by alter. Just what implications, if

any, Parsons intends by tliis terminology are not clear.
In ordinary language, a “need for love” is quite different from
the “sentiment” of love. A need for loye is free-floating; it can
be satisfied by any love object but does not imply tliat any actual
love relationsliip exists. Colloquially, the need for love is sometimes
described as being “in love with love.” The “sentiment,” on the
other hand, implies an alter and a love relation to alter. A need
for love is selfish and self-oriented. The sentiment of love implies
a certain altruism and tender feelings for another person. It is not
clear how Parsons intends the concepts of love, esteem, and so on,
to be used. Sometimes he uses them one way, sometimes another.
160 • Alfred L, Baldwin

Another type of need-disposition is a mine. Here, again, the in-

variant in the set of performances and sanctions is not easily put
into words. The value, fairness, for example does not motivate
a set of actions that have a common result as do eating, striving for
success, or nurture. Neither is the object the invariant as in the

case of sentiments. Instead, the invariance lies in the adherence to

a principle or rule of behavior and reflects the presence in the
actor of the acceptance of certain “oughts.” Parsons seems some-
times to mean by “value” a “need for conformity to values stand-
ards” but unfortunately he not very clear on the point. At
is

another point, he describes a value as a need for end states

that are demanded by a value standard. In other words, we cannot
be sure whether Parsons means a need to conform or needs that
are, in fact, compatible with value standards, or both.
A third type of need-disposition comprises role-expectations.
These are “needs to get proper’ responses from alter and disposi-
tions to give proper responses to alter.” It appears later, however,
in Family, Socialization and Interaction Process (1955), that a
role is not a need-disposition as such but
a sub-system of the
is

personality, motivated by a number of needs and providing the

necessary integration or fusion of the component need-dispositions.
Already, we can see what is a basic conceptual unclearness in
Parsons’ formulations. He cannot really decide whether or not
he wants to picture the personality as a set of need-dispositions
whose aims are segmental (i.e., self-oriented) but which are inte-
grated within the personality by sets of values and role-expectations.
There are many attractive features in such a model. It emphasizes
the parallelism between the personality system and the social
system. It corresponds to naive behavior theory that pictures ob-
ligations as controlling wants. It is very close to psychoanalytic
theory, with many of whose concepts Parsons agrees.
On the otlier hand, such a formulation has real difficulties. It
seems to deny the basic need-disposition character to such impor-
tant motivations as love, nurturance, group loyalty, and so on.
These are not segmental but essentially integrative. To view them
merely as controls over more segmental needs but not needs them-
selves seems to put social integration primarily upon a basis of
“enlightened self-interest,” because all the fundamental gratifica-
THE PAESONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 161

such a model are private and individualistic. Social systems

tions in
depending largely upon tins type o£ control are, in the opinion of
some sociologists, tliose characterized by “anomie.” Parsons him-
self, in his article on tlie superego (WP ch. 1), goes to considerable

lengtlis to point to the importance of socialized elements even in

the id.

Perhaps through such considerations as these. Parsons is almost

forced to give tire status of need-dispositions to altruistic senti-

ments, values, and role-expectations. But in so doing, he blurs the

neatness of tlie conceptual model of the person versus environment.
Furdiermore, he is in danger of picturing a social system that does
not need external controls at all because they are all part of the
individual’s motivation. This suggests a Utopian condition contra-
dicted by the facts of life.

Parsons is quite right, of course, in trying to avoid either of

these black or wliite alternatives. An adequate theory must some-
how synthesize the two. Some social integration and control is

based upon sanctions of segmental need-dispositions; some is medi-

ated flirough value commitments resembling the superego working
through guilt feelings aroused by violation of the standards; some
is built into the basic need-dispositions of tlie individual. There
is no reason why a tlieory of personahty should not include all of
these mechanisms, but it should distinguish among them. Parsons
seems to classify tliem all together. Yet, the differences in the social
integrative behavior of people whose ties to the collectivity are
mediated through these different psychological mechanisms will
make all tlie difference in the world in the stabihty of their con-
tributions to the collectivity (see p. 188).
Oddly enough, it might be argued that the lack of differentiation
in Parsons’ concepts of the psychological mechanisms underlying
social controls lies in his failure to consider deviance. He pictures
deviance in such an institutionalized manner that there is little
room for genuine individual difference. Parsons describes the child
who is suddenly confronted with new sociahzation demands as
deviant—by fiat so to speak— and his natural reaction to the imposi-
tion tends to make him more deviant, but these reactions are the
,

modal ones and Parsons does not discuss how tlie individual child’s
response to socialization might depend on whether his love for
162 • Alfred L. Baldwin

his mother is contingent upon her gratification of self -oriented

needs
or is firmly rooted in the need-dispositional structure of the child.

DEVELOPMENT OF NEED-DISPOSITION

How do the need-dispositions and other aspects of the

personality develop? Parsons advances three propositions about
the socialization process. The first is that the socialization process,
analogous to psychotherapy, group learning, and social control,
goes through the phases Latency, Integration, Goal-gratification,
and Adaptation in tliat order. Figinre 6 combines Figures 1 and 2
in Family, Socialization and Interaction Process.
This diagram the phases of social control into the Freudian
fits

stages of psychosexual development, but before looking at the proc-

we should consider how Parsons describes
ess of socialization itself,
the process of social control. The basic reference point is psycho-
therapy. The process begins in the L cell because Aat is the phase
primarily involved in “tension management.” The patient is in a
state of high tension because his values are in conflict with those
of the collectivity. The first task of the therapist is to be permissive
of the patient’s expressions of his deviance. The therapist does not
respond wth the usual sanctions to expressions of deviant values,
or to symbolic expressions of aggression, dependency, and other
inappropriate needs, but instead permits the patient to talk about
them freely. This creates transference, so that the next phase of
the process is concerned with the interpersonal
integrative, i.e., is

relationship. During the I-phase the therapist provides support and

expressions of acceptance. He does not withdraw from die relation-
ship, either because of the deviance or the dependency of the
patient upon him. The therapist does, however, deny reciprocity
(G phase). He does not love the patient in response to the patient’s
love. He does not concur with the patient’s deviant values. In other
words, he does not permit actual goal-gratification in the inter-
personal relationship. He begins to exert pressure to bring the
patient back into adjustment to the realities of social life rather
than being seduced by the patient into joining him in deviant
collectivity. This is all the G phase. Next, the therapist begins to
THE PAHSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 163

reward and punish (A phase) and really puts on the pressure to

modify deviant behavior—not so much by actual manipulation of
gratifications as by representing clearly to the patient the realistic
consequences of liis actions. Because of tlie sohdarity built up

ADOLESCENCE: d.

a. Adaptive-Instrumental a. Instrumental-Expressive
( Goal-gratification)

b. Manipulation of Rewards b. Denial of Reciprocity

c. Maturity (genltallty) c. Latency (psycho analytic)

(4 objective system)

ORAL Enter here OEDIPAL

OHlSISs PHASE: dj

a. Latent a. Integrative

b. Permissiveness b. Support

c. Oral Dependency c. Love attachment

(Mother-Child Identity) (Parent-Self object
differentiation)

ANAL PHASE:

a. Task-performanco phases {AGIL)

b. learning-social control phases (X/GA)
c. Phases of psychosexual development
d. Crises of transition

Figure 6. Phases of psychosexual clcvcloiuncnt.

during the permissive and support phases, tlie therapist can now
activelymodify the patient’s behavior and help the patient to come
to a reahstic adaptation to tlie demands of his situation.
The accuracy of this description of psychotherapy is not easy
to assess. Therapists would doubtless feel it was highly schematic
164 • Alfred L. Baldwin

and oversimplified. There are, however, certain features of the

description tliat seem accurate, especially the necessity of estab-
lishing a strong, afFectionate and dependent relationship that is not
threatened by the patient’s expressions of immoral, antisocial, or
hostile wishes. This relationship is a foundation for facing the
patient with reality and helping him adapt to it.
psychotherapy that is most clearly analogous
It is this feature of
to current views of sociahzation. The parent builds up a strong
love and dependency relationship witli die child through early
indulgence and gratification. This solid foundation of credit permits
die parent later to withhold rewards and impose punisliments widi-
out destroying the child’s love for the parent. The conception was
first developed by Freud and has gained wide acceptance. Wiether

there is a good fit in the details of the analogy betv'een socialization

and psychodierapy is more questionable. One important difference
is that during socialization the parent himself puts the child in a
deviant position by shifting his demands; then he must rebuild
the love imperiled by his action without retraction of his demands.
The usual psychoanalytic picture of infancy begins with oral
dependency and is intended merely to record the facts that the
child is at first only physically dependent upon the mother, but
that by lavish indulgence of liis needs—particularly his sucking
needs—the infant becomes psychologically dependent. This depend-
ency is first threatened by the reduction in unlimited gratification
that occurs late in the first year. This restriction on gratification

frequently occurs at weaning.

Parsons’ way of describing the same process illustrates his general
conception of socialization. The neonate
an aggregate of seg-
is

mental biological needs, motivationally speaking. The mother first

cares for these needs; then during the oral crisis, she denies the
child’s for continuous and exclusive gratification of each
demands
separate need but rewards a more diffuse dependency relationship.
As a result, the heretofore independent segmental needs are fused
into a dependency upon the mother in which individual needs
are subordinate to the collectivity (i.e., the personality system). In
the usual Parsonian scheme of orbits within orbits, he describes
this little cycle of socialization as an L-I-G-A sequence vdthin the
L phase of psychosexTial development.
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 165

•
This language of Parsons’ points to an aspect of the development
of dependence that is not obvious in Freud’s description. It is an
interesting viewpoint that clearly stems from Parsons’ general
interests. When examined in detail, however, its relation to the
general tlieory is not obvious. For example, it is not obvious vdiy

such a process should be attributed to the latency rather than

integrative phase or why the mother’s behavior should be consid-
ered an example of pennissiveness rather than support.
A second general principle underlying the Parsonian theory of
personality development is founded upon the assumption that when
the child establishes a relationship with a social object, the rela-
tionship itself consists of a social system in which each member
has a certain role with expected performances and sanctions. The
common notion among psychologists is that the child learns his
o\vn role in tliis system, acquires some toward the other
attitude
person, and perhaps accepts the values of alter. But Parsons sug-
gests that the child internalizes tlie whole system, so to speak, and
acquires the performances, need-dispositions, and attitudes of all
of ,the members of the system.
The second phase of socialization illustrates this principle. It
is another cycle of socialization beginning where tire first left off,
with oral dependency. In it autonomy from the
the mother requires
chilld and rewards it with love. The result is the Love-Dependency

Personality or the Two-Object-System in Figure 7, taken from

Fi^ire 7 in Familij, Socialization and Interaction Frocess. The
mother-child social system is marked by a differentiation primarily
on the power dimension, but also on the instrumental-expressive
dimension. The two need-dispositions that emerge represent in one
case the role of the mother toward the child, and in the otlier the
role of the child vis-k-vis the mother. As tlie child internalizes
alter, he also internalizes alters orientation toward liimself as an

object, subject to the possibility of the child’s not perceiving this

orientation entirely correctly. In summary:

Theinternalized personality establishment, therefore, though

up through fire experiencing of functions per-
originally built
formed for ego by an alter can from then on always serve as an
agency of tire performance of die same functions either in return
for alter or in the role of alter for ego himself. (FSI 74)
166 • Alfred L. Baldwin

Objects:
Catbected; Self
Internalized: Parent

Need-disposition: Dependency
SUPERIOR POWER:
INSTRUMENTAL Performance Type:
Alter- oriented: Asking for and giving care .

Narcissistic: Self-indulgence

Sanction Type;
Alter-oriented; Accepting care
Narcissistic: Self-gratification

Objects:
Cathected; Parent
Internalized: Self

Need- disposition: Autonomy

INFERIOR POWER:
EXPRESSIVE Performance Type:
Alter-oriented: Loving alter
Narcissistic: Self-love

Sanction Type:
Alter-oriented: Receiving alter’s love
Narcissistic: Self-love

Figure 7. Second phase of personality structure: lovc-dcpcndcnco

personality.

This isan interesting and suggestive way of describing the anal

stage, but if we look at tlie example of the two-object system
of
illustrated in Figure 7, we find a really hopeless hodgepodge
theoretical inconsistencies. First, we
see the need-disposition that
emerges from internalizing die mother’s role is not nurturance but
the pabsonian theory of personality • 167

dependency. The performance correlated with this need is hoth

asking for care and giving care. These are surely not the same
need-dispositions. The sanction is ^'accepting care*^ which does not
sound like a sanction at all, unless it is alter s accepting ego’s care,
and in tliose cases the need-disposition is autonomij while the
role performance is loving alter and the sanction is receiving love.
How can the performance of “autonomy” be “loving alter”? Parsons
is apparently led to such a position by the argument that the

child’s autonomy is rewarded by the motliers love. But an instru-

mental act cannot be used to label the consummatory behavior
without creating all kinds of confusion. Another signficant clue to
why autonomy and love are mixed is that in die next stage auton-
omy and love are going to be difEerentiated, the two new need-
dispositions being adequacy and security.
Moving on to the next phase, Parsons argues that the two-object
system of mother and child differentiates into die four-object system
consisting of fadier, mother, brother, and sister by means of a
differentiation of die power from the instrumental-expressive
dimension. The post-oedipal personality structure takes the form
shown in Figure 8. Several curious features also appear in diis
stage. The need-disposition conformity has as its performance,
control of alter; and the sanction is esteem. Despite tiiis definition,
conformity equated to superego.
is

All through tiiis portion of die argument, it is almost impossible

to escape die feeling diat Parsons makes the developmental process

fit die theoretical model only by straining the normal meaning of

terms beyond reason. Even where there is no flagrant violation of

usual meanings, there are frequent shifts in connotation. For
example, let us trace the history of the terms instrumental, expres-
sive-adaptive, and integrative, together with the associated pattern
variables, from die Working Tapers tlirough to Family, Sociafea-
tion and Interaction Process,
While expressive was first used by Bales to describe the kind of
behavior categorized as “showing tension,” this meaning was ex-
plicitly changed in a later .working paper to the usage of the terms
given in Figure 9.
In Figure 9 die four terms are used quite consistendy. Instru-
mental, characterized by specificity and performance criteria, seems
168 Alfred L. Baldwin

Superego Id

Instrumental Expressive

Objects: Objects:
Cathected: Self (masculine) Cathected: Self (feminine)
Mernalized: Father Internalized; Mother

Need-disposition: Conformity Need-disposition: Nurturance

SUPERIOR POWER: External Orientation: External Orientation:

Performance: Control of P-Giving pleasure
Alter S-Response
Sanction; Esteem

Internal Orientation: Internal Orientation;

P-Self-control P-Self-indulgence
S- Self-esteem S-SeK-gr atific ation

Objects: Objects:
Cathected: Father) Cathected: Mother
Internalized: Self ( M) Internalized: Self(F)

Need-disposition: Adequacy Need- disposition: Security

INFERIOR POWER: External Orientation: External Orientation:

P-Instrumental perform- P-Giving love
ance S-Acceptance
S-Approval

Internal Orientation: Internal Orientation:

P-“Reality testing^^ P-Harmonization
S-SeK-approval S- Self-love

Adaptive Functions Ego Integrative Functions

Figure 8. The posl-Oedipal personality structure.

to carry the connotation of impersonal. Objects may be dealt with

impersonally either in adaptive behavior or in consummatory grati-
fication. Thus, instrumental describes both A and G cells.
tlie

Integrative is the opposite of instrumental and seems to mean

dealing with people. It is marked by diffuseness and quality orien-
tation. Qualities need not be limited to ascribed traits, as Parsons
THE PAESONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 169

is inclined to do, but our relations with people

depend upon their
qualities ratherthan upon their immediate behavior. Cross-cutting
this dichotomy is the dichotomy
adaptive-expressive, In tliis sense
adaptive means preparation for an end state,
while expressive
means acting out some internal state. The pairs of
pattern variables
associated with each seem quite reasonable.
170 • Alfred L. Baldwin

In Bales’ empirical research, he concerned with only

is really
two roles in the small group, the instrumental-adaptive
on tlie one
hand, and the integrative-expressive on the other. The one role is
concerned with reaching the goal set for the group, the otlier
with preventing social disintegration. Both seem adaptive in terms
of ordinary language usage, one instrumentally and the other
integratively. The fact tliat the integrative role was carried out by
expressing feehngs seems little more relevant than that the instru-
mental role was carried out by expressing opinions. Therefore, the
tying of adaptive to the one and expressive to the other seems a
little strained.
In Family, Socialization and Interaction Process, instrumental-
adaptive becomes shortened to instrumental and integrative-expres-
sive becomes shortened to expressive, and they are no longer op-
posites on the dichotomies originally introduced. To make life
more complicated, the power dimension is introduced. It obviously
is not expected to correspond with any of tlie previous dimensions.

Yet when the two-by-two table is drawn up, divided on power and
the instrumental-expressive dimension, the four sanctions— esteem,
approval, acceptance, and response— are the same four sanctions
found in Figure 9 when different dimensions were employed. But,

look where they appear. Esteem is especially strange; it now is a

sanction for an instrumental kind of behavior, labeled conformity,

but whose performance is controlling alter. Previously it was in

the L sector, adaptive and integrative, and was the sanction for
accomplishment.
This little been included prima-
exercise in textual criticism has
rily to indicate how meanings and interpretations shift and blur

under what appears to be Parsons’ compulsion to make the uni-

versal pattern repeat itself in every possible circumstance.
What seems especially unfortunate is that the isomorphism is

not necessary for tlie fruitfulness of the conceptualization. The

requirement tliat the four sectors of society must correspond to
the father, mother, brother, and sister in the stylized nuclear family
seems almost completely gratuitous. In fact, the striking difference
on the power dimension within the family might suggest that the
nuclear family is a particularly poor social group to represent
THE PAESONIAN THEORY OF PEBSONALITY * I7l

[Link] a semi-pennanent group like the family should exhibit

the same four sectors of activity' as a larger society does not seem
unreasonable, but that each sector should be neatly represented by
one person's role seems too much to expect.
In another respect also, the demand for isomorphism seems un-
warranted. As far as need-dispositions are concerned, there is no
reason why the child can acquire only four types of need-disposi-
tions during the first five years of life, even if the whole mechanism

of acquisition is internalization of social objects in a social system.

The encompasses more tlian one type
motlier’s role in the family
of performance and involves more than one type of sanction.
Furtlrermore, she sanctions more than one type of behavior. Thus,
it does not seem unreasonable that the child might learn both

love and autonomy during the pre-oedipal stages as two different

need-dispositions.
If a genuine correspondence should emerge between the stages
of development and the sectors of society, it would certainly be
interesting and would unquestionably raise a problem for social
science to explain. But even such a correspondence would be no
striking demonstration of the validity of the theory whose termi-
nology made the correspondence apparent. The theory is not tight
enough to permit truly logical derivations.
All in all, tire game is not worth the candle, In fact, the strenuous
attempts to realize complete analogy hides the contributions to
the picture of socialization that Parsons does make. He presents
many interesting ideas, some of them testable. Some general ones
have already been mentiond, but the specific ones are also worth
taking seriously. For example, if there is a detectable distinction
between tire dependency of the oral phase infant and the love
of the pre-oedipal child that can be attributed to learning au-
tonomy, it would be interesting, indeed.
If, in addition, this could
be related to the different kinds of identification involved (lack
of differentiation of mother-child roles in one case, internalization
of the mother and clrild roles in the other) it would be quite val-
uable. But clearly the hypothesis cannot be tested if autonomy is
to be defined as loving and if dependency means either
giving or
asking for care. There are real values in these formulations,
but
they are in the form of intuitive suggestions, perhaps brilliant
ones.
'

172 • Alfred L. Baldwin

The false orderliness and isomorphism is an all too effective camou-

flage for what values are inherent in the general scheme.
As further illustration of the interesting problems raised by
Parsons’ system at itsbest, let us turn to a detailed description of
one cycle of the socialization process employing many of the
theoretical terms already introduced.
The cycle is concerned with tlie transition from tlie two-objcct
system to the four-object system, i.e., die oedipal crisis. The family
consists of father, mother, the pre-oedipal ego, and an older post-
oedipal sibling. The different phases of the transition are numbered
Tj, T 2 and so forth. Within each phase each of the different social
'

systems within the family is described.'

Ti is die initial stable state. The mother has several roles: family
member, wife, mother of sib, and mother of ego.
T2 is the phase in which this stable state is disturbed. Partly it
occurs because of ego’s ability to do more and perform better than
he has in the past, partly it comes from the family’s realization
that ego is “getting to be a big boy.” The shift can be described as
follows, for each of the social systems involved.
a. For the family, diis total transition is a continuing sequence

of development to be described as a clockwise cycle from Latency,

to Adaptive instrumental behavior, to Goal-gratification, to Integra-
tion, back to Latency. (See Figure 6, p. 163, task performance

phases.) The first phase, Ti to T 2 is the shift from a state of

,

latency to the adaptive instrumental phase. The modier as a family

member shares in tiiis sliift of expectations from die child and is
the agent transmitting the new expectations to the child. In Parsons’
language she is the communicating link between the family system
and the mother-child system.
b. In the mother-child system the disturbance disequilibrates the
social system and initiates a “tiierapeutic” cycle of adjustments,
Tliis cycle includes die same basic phases as the task performance

cycle, but in reverse order. Parsons labels them permissiveness,

support, denial of reciprocity, and manipulation of rewards. (See
Figure 6, p. 163, learning-social control phases.) The disturbance

in the case at hand is reflected in die mother’s withholding part

of the care that she has customarily been responsible for. Her role
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 173

is tlius moved slightly away from the instrumental one as she

expects the child to take on more of his own care.

c. Inmodiers personality, the cycle goes clockwise, since
tire

this is a task performance for her, but it may also require some
adjustments to withhold care from tire baby. Because she is anchored
in the family system, however, and shares its values, and because
she herself wants to socialize ego, the disturbance is not great.
d. In tire cliild’s personality the cycle goes counterclockwise.
The disturbance comes as a frustration that deprives him of some
gratifications, violates his expectations of the mother, and also
violates his “rights.” Witliin the personality tlie first reactions to
this disturbance are: (1) clinging to the original state, (2) %vishful
thinking, (3) removal of die source of disturbance through aggres-
sion, (4) shifting the internal balance toward narcissistic gratifica-
tion to balance loss of external gratification, (5) hostility against
self as a source of disturbance, (6) generalization of expectation of
disturbance, i.e., anxiety.
e. In the modier-child system, an integrative crisis impends. The
mother has created aggression in the child. The child, in response
become more aggressive and now deviates even
to frustration, has
from previously learned behavior. Tliis is where die permissive
phase of the psychotherapy paradigm begins. The mother makes
allowances for the child’s deviance; she allows symbolic [Link]
of aggression and dependency wishes but sdll sticks to her guns
as far as actual withdrawal of care is concerned.
f. This now creates in the child a slighdy different conception
of die mother dian he had before. She is becoming a different social
object but still retains her old identity—i.e., it is not as if a strange
woman replaced the mother in die home.
Tg. Tliis is now the supporting phase of the mother-child rela-
tions, but it largely corresponds to the latter, part of the adaptive-
instrumental phase in the cycle the family system is following.
a. In die family system, the mother’s behavior toward the child

is it may create a small integrative

a part of the family policy but
crisis there,
requiring the father to provide some encouragement
and emotional support. The other family members must also back
her up by making the same requirements of ego, that she does.
Furthermore, the father, as well as the mother, may need to be
174 • Alfred L. Baldwin

permissive toward the child if aggression is displaced onto him. In

Parsons’ language this is an input of
facilities from the family
system to the mother subsystem to strengthen her instrumental-
adaptive behavior. (A sector).
b. In the motlier’s personality, loss of love of the cliild has
instigated an increase in the expressions of love for the child,
through frustrations of the mother’s need for love and as an instm-
mental activity to prevent the disintegrative process from getting
out of hand. Thus, tlie phase moves to one of support, and also
we should note that tlie mother’s role has now increased in tlie
expressive dimension. Her role is gradually shifting from instru-
mentahty toward expressiveness.
c. In the child’s personality, permissiveness and support have
partially relieved his anxiety,and probably reduced aggression,
but have not solved the problem. Information necessary for tlie
child to re-define his own role and the social objects has been
given, but not digested by the child. Parsons is now concerned
with the process by which the child diflEerentiates the instrumental
from the expressive role and attaches the instrumental one to the
father while continuing to see the mother as expressive. He sug-
gests that in this situation tlie child cannot directly and immediately
cathect his “father” as an object distinct from the mother. There
must be some transition and Parsons argues that the obvious path
of generalization of the cathexis is by way of some common element
between the old and the new objects. This necessary element com-
mon to both the mother and father is the fact that they share the
“parental” role as well as each filling a special “mother” and
“father” role. Thus, Parsons seems to say that the child first cathects

liis father as “like mommy”

on the basis of the shared responsi-
bilities of the two, and then gradually understands the father role
in its unique aspects.
Next Parsons is concerned with the erotic elements of the child’s
relation to his parents and how this eroticism becomes more
focused on the motlier. “Eroticism” implies a diffuse relationship
and is not appropriate to describing the relation between tlie cliild
and his caretaker. It emerges, therefore, as the mother gradually
concentrates on her expressive-integrative functions and turns the
more instrumental care-taking functions over to the child himself.
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 175

At the same time, these positive feehngs help maintain the

integration of the mother-child system despite the frustrations im-
posed by socialization. The same point has been made by Freud
and others vi'hen they point out that a well-established love between
mother and child makes the socialization efforts of the parent
more The notion tliat eroticism emerges
effective. as specific care-

taking decreases is a more novel idea.

As Parsons points out,

. eroticism is specifically bound to its integrative function in

. .

the mother-child system. Hence if it is allowed to continue in

force it wfll interfere with the integration of the child in the
family system. This is why every transition to a higher order
system is marked by a crisis in the erotic sphere. In each case a
ladder which has been essential at one stage of the climb must
be thrown away because it becomes an encumbrance from then
on. (FSI 210-211)

T 4. a. This is the gratification phase in the task-performance

cycle for the family system. It is the phase in which ego actually
treats the father and sibling as objects and expects them to
reciprocate appropriately. The reciprocation will be primarily re-
sponse gratification for specific performances in relation to these
new objects. The father is pleased at the new levels of achievement,
but selective in the bestowal of rewards.
b. What from the point of view of the family system is the con-
summatory phase is for the old mother-child system the phase of
liquidation. The mother gradually withdraws lower level support
and it “acceptance” on the “parental” level.
substitutes for
c. In the child the actual fission of the old internalized object
system takes place. There has been a perception of the mothers
role in the family (which was only mother and child up to now).
Now the father is perceived as belonging to the family; secondly,
he together with the mother constitute a sub-collectivity, parents.
The father is an object in his own right and in the fission the
mother-object is not left unchanged. She has become more expres-
sive and supportive than she was originally, although less so fb;m
during the transition period.
Tj. a. For the family, this is the integrative phase following
gratification, involving the reorganization entailed by the admission
176 • Alfred L. Baldwin

of the child to the family system. It involves further acceptance

of
him, and also may require the resolution of rivalries that are
created by the added recognition given tlie young child. With die
completion of this die family returns to the latent phase with
respect to this particular socialization cycle.
b. For the old mother-child system T 5 is a latency phase in die
sense that old values are transformed into new ones where neces-
sary and the residual pre-oedipal attitudes and values are repressed.
c. For the personahty system of the child, it is the adaptive phase

or consohdation of the new personality structure.

THE DYNAMICS OF THE SOCIALIZATION CYCLE

This detailed discussion makes the picture of socialization

clear. It is a repetition, over and over again, of the cycle, LT-G-A,
from the point of view of the socializing system, and die cycle
A-G-I-L from the point of view of the child’s personahty. The two
cycles go on simultaneously and are cogged into each odier so
that, for example, the goal-gratification phase (G) of the socializ-
ing system occurs when the socialized system is in the A phase
(manipulation of rewards).
Because of correspondence between the phases of the socializing
and sociahzed system. Parsons renames the four phases in a
“socialization” cycle: 1. Primary adaptation, 2. Relative deprivation,
3. Internalization, 4. Reinforcement.
Fromthe point of view of psychologists a very interesting feature
of this theory is die inclusion of die dynamics of the socializing
system. Parsons asks what inputs are necessary to push this cycle
around and how it happens that these inputs are available at the
proper times. Psychologists interested in the individual are likely
to take die environment as given and to see die cues contained in
it and the rewards obtainable from it as the ground upon
which
the learning and adjustment process takes place. Parsons, because
of liis sociological viewpoint, sees these cues and rewards as inputs
wlucli the larger system must provide if the socialization of the
sub-system is to be completed effectii'ely. Furthermore, he asks
how the socializing system happens to perform its socializing role
THE PARSONIAN THEOBY OF PEBSONALITY * 177

at die right time and in the right phase. The cycle is seen in terms
and outputs for each system.
of inputs
During the A phase of the cycle, according to Parsons, the super-

ordinate system provides the sub-system with facilities or aids to

achievement. This is the input, consisting of information about the
situation to which the sub-system must adapt. During the phase, G
the superordinate system provides rewards from the environment
for correct performance, producing gratification as an output.
During tire I phase, die input consists of narcissistic rewards and
the output is satisfaction. The terms are obscure, but apparently
the intent is to describe the kinds of acceptance that build up
solidarity and enhance personality integration through a diffuse
rather than segmental sense of satisfaction. Finally, in the L phase,
the input consists of information again rather than rewards, and
now information is about the values of the superordinate system
diat tie the sub-system into the larger systems of values. Tliis inte-
gration into the supefordinate system also makes the sub-system’s
own values consistent with each other.
Naturally, each of these phases involves all four sectors and the
deprivations incurred in one sector in one phase are balanced out
in other phases. Thus, the first change (T^ and T2) of primary
adaptation is marked by an input of information describing die
socializationdemand of the larger system. This results in a general
maladjusted period in which achievement is hampered, rewards
are reduced, satisfaction is lowered and values are deviant. In the
second period (T2 to T3) no new information is presented, but
situational rewards and narcissistic rewards are increased so that
gratification and satisfaction is increased. As socialization begins
), achievement acbially inci'eases, new values are
to take effect (T4
introduced and accepted, rewards are kept at a high level. Then,
as the sub-system falls into line, rewards are reduced (the child
is expected to perform in his new status without being constantly
told how good he is do so) and the new values are tied into the
to
already existing system, so that the child feels his new performances
as obligations that are "right” rather than as instrumental actions
for rewards. The effect of the entire cycle is to increase achieve-
ment level through the incorporation of new information and. to
bring the child’s values into closer, conformity with those of the
178 • Alfred L. Baldwin

superordinate system. The net effect on rewards is zero. The loss

of rewards during the early stages of the cycle is balanced by in-
creased rewards as the child begins to meet tlie new demands
successfully.
This conceptuahzation of socialization is a magnificent effort. In
detail it is not always clear and is surely oversimplified but its
difficultiesshould not blind us to tlie fact that socialization pres-
sure on tlie child is not merely an antecedent variable whose conse-
quence is personality change. The whole process is the behavior of
a social system with various feedbacks and other patterns of inter-
relationship. Parsons has certainly provided the most ambitious
attempt yet made
encompass this comple,v phenomenon of family
to
Ufe, and has especially emphasized how each aspect of the process
plays its functional role in the operation of the system.

POST-OEDIPAL SOCIALIZATION

After this long period of attention to tlie oedipal phase of

development, we return to the sequence of stages of personality
development during school age and adolescence. In the first three
stages of socialization, the child is developing a set of need-dis-
positions that are not, in principle, hmited to a single object or
even a single class of objects. In other words, these early acquisi-
tions are attitudinal patterns like love, esteem, and so on, that will
recur throughout life in connection with various social objects. But
in tlie nuclear family, Parsons says, each of these attitudes is

focused on a single social object. It is only later that the child

learns the modifications of the attitude appropriate for different
types of objects. Because the young child’s contacts are largely re-
stricted to die nuclear family, no demands for object discrimina-
tion ivithin the same attitude are imposed. This artificially imposed
correspondence between attitudes and objects provides the child

with a simplified social environment. Parsons argues that it is

essential for the child to develop the attitudes first, and that such
an orderly arrangement both prevents confusion and establishes
the need-dispositions very firmly. The psychological rationale of
this last consequence is not clear.
THE PAHSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 179

Beyond the oedipal stage, socialization involves the differentiation

of objects rather tlian attitudes. These differentiations involve,

natmally, the two object-choice pattern variables, universalism-par-

ticulcvism, and perfonnance-cjuality. These differentiations are
brought about by the child’s activities outside the home. The father,
up to this point, is a particular man as far as tlie child is concerned.
All the child’s attitudes are particularistic. In the peer group the
universalistic categories of men, women, boys, girls, adults, cliil-

dren are aU developed and the need-dispositions modified appro-

priately. Parsons suggests that universalistic values presuppose
categorization on the basis of abstract properties, and points to the
fact that logical thought develops during tins same period of life.
The final stage of differentiation involves die performance-quality
pattern A'ariable. It takes place particularly during adolescence and
marks the emergence of tlie cliild into full adulthood. Heterosexual
adjustment and meeting the occupational demands of the society
are the components of the adolescent crisis that Parsons believes
arc mainly responsible for this differentiation. Although Parsons ex-
plicitly states that the differentiations occur in tliis order, it would
perhaps not be doing serious violence to the theory to suggest that
die last hvo differentiations overlap considerably and perhaps even
occur simultaneously. Certainly, much of die training in adaptive
behavior that characterizes the latency period would require the
discrimination betu^een quality and performance types of relation-
ships.
The result of these sequences of differentiations leads to what
Parsons speaks of as a genealogy of need-dispositions as shown in
Figure 10. Parsons sees tiiis genealogy as representing a series of
irrevocable bifurcations of motivation. The conceptual model
adopted here is tiiat of branching streams of motivational energy
starting from an undifferentiated source essentially equivalent to
Freudian libido.
It is clear that these need-dispositions are concerned rvitii many
aspects of bcha\'ior and that die dispositions are of wdely different
t)'pes. On the one hand, there
a need-disposition for ‘pleasure in
is

gratifjnng states.” This seems general enough. There is also a quite

specific need-disposition toward cooperation for team success.
On
die other hand, diere are no need-dispositions describable
as fear.
o

alter

or

performance-ego

ay-goal-achlevement
bLstatus-achievement

apin

Complex)

-Achievement
(‘‘Brother”

Pleasure

iC^iApoanoo
spoaH o]iro3JO
n9S
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 181

avoidance, hostility, competition, seclusiveness, or possessiveness.

Their absence in Figure 10 does not mean that Parsons is uncon-
cerned TOth such matters, but their absence is a serious problem
for the theory. Parsons speaks of anxiety in several places and at
least once calls it a need-disposition (GTA). Alienation is a
tendency that is obviously important. It is a type of deviance stem-
ming from the first stage but its conceptual status seems very vague
indeed. It does seem very difficult to see how Parsons’ picture of
motivation in Figure 10 can fit the facts of child behavior. The pic-

ture contains some interesting personality variables, but it is hard

to escape the feeling that the bifurcation model is accepted be-
cause it fits the theory rather tlian reality.

RELATION OF NEED-DISPOSITION TO ROLES AND VALUES

Turning now to the relation between personality and the

social system, we find that values and role-expectations are intro-
duced in FSI not but as integrating forces upon
as need-dispositions
need-dispositions. In GTA, on the other hand, they were themselves
need-dispositions. The personality is organized in trvo directions.
One based upon need-disposition and is responsible for temporal
is

sequences of behavioral acts leading to goal states. The other is a

series of “cross ties” (Parsons’ term) corresponding to a set of value
patterns common to otlier members of the social system. A quota-
tion seems in order here;

The essence of a system of action, tlien, is tliat it consists of

motivational or need-disposition units each with its differentiated
goals, interests and sentiments hut hound together with other
units by serving tlie interests of tlie same value patterns, each
of which mobilizes a plurahy of different motivational types or
units. Seen in personality terms, these value systems are strate-
gically the most important properties of internalized social ob-
jects. (FSI p. 167)

Parsons believes tliat need-dispositions, even those involving

cooperation for team success and discipline in pattern maintenence,
will by tliemselves “fly off in all directions.” “They must be held
182 • Alfred L. Baldwin

together as a team in the service of the system as a system.” (FSI)

The function of the common values is to acliieve this integration.
Now, however, a new notion is introduced; namely, “that a single
pattern of values is not adequate, tlieremust be a ramified system
of such patterns, tlie structure of which matches die differentiations
of structure of the relevant systems of action, both personality and
social systems.” (FSI) Roles are formulated at the points of inter-
section of these values patterns.
By this. Parsons apparently means that—in the social system at
least— all those in the system have some common values. Further-
more, all who have the same role share a unique set of values held
by nobody who does not have this role. It would seem diat perhaps
all members of die system have value c. Some hold b. Some hold

value c. Perhaps all the people who have a certain role have both
values b and c and nobody else has diat particular set of values. It

is in tliis sense that roles correspond to “intersections” of values.

Parsons does not make it clear whether every different set of values
will correspond to some role.
Now, in the personality system, this same set of values integrates
the need-dispositions in such a way that die proper role behavior
is performed. Parsons refers to roles in the family to illustrate die
significance of this formulation. Thus a family has a value system
shared by all of its members and defines its system goals and norms.
The marriage relationship is a sub-system widi values especially
related to tension-management. The husband has a unique position
in this relationship because, in addition to the values shared with
the svife, he also holds values appropriate to the male role, to his

occupational role, and so on, and this particular constellation of

values uniquely characterizes the “husband” role. Since the male
role marked by more adaptiveness than the female role, and since
is

the occupational system involves adaptive values more than the

family system, the husband’s role in the family is more adaptive
and instrumental than die wife’s.
This formulation very neat. It provides a system for describing
is

the influence that participation in one sector of a social system has

upon die role behavior in some other sector of the sub-system. It
also provides a way of describing genuine uniqueness in role be-
havior without ascribing it to idiosyncratic personality or setting
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 183

up an idiosyncratic role. Each husband is the intersection of a some-

what diflFerent set of values from every other husband. Thus, he
fills the husband role in a somewhat different way.

Now let us see if we can fit these concepts into a theory of per-
sonality. Social objects are a focal point, not only in the socializa-
tion process, but also in the structure of personality. The term,
internalized social object, however, might have several meanings.
In its simplest form it is merely a conception of the social object or
a cognitive representation of tlie social object. This is the sense in
which Olds uses the term in Structure and Growth of Motives where
he is developing Parsonian conceptions. In the description of the
oedipal transition {supra, pp. 172-76), the child’s conception of the
mother gradually changes, but there is nothing in that discussion

to indicate that “internalized social object” has any further implica-

tions.
On the other hand, Parsons obviously intends internalization of
the social object to have somewhat the same meaning Freud gave
it. It implies a taking over of the motives and values of another
person, including apparently the values associated with each of the
roles of tliat alter. In the personahty of ego, therefore, it might be
represented merely as a constellation of values associated with the
particular roles learned from some other person. In otlier words,
it would not carry around in the personality any label denoting
just what social object it was that had been internalized. Tliis in-
terpretation seems to be strongly suggested by the quotation on
p. 181 supra, “Seen in personality terms, these values systems are
strategically the most important properties of internalized social
objects.”
As in so many other areas of Parsonian formulation of internali-
some interesting ideas, but when examined in
zation, this contains
detail it becomes blurred. In aU justice, however. Parsons’ usage
is no more confusing than most other discussions of the concept.

DISCUSSION AND EVALUATION

In discussion of the Parsonian theory of personality de-

velopment, we must avoid, if possible, several dilemmas.
184 • Alfred L. Baldwin

It isimportant to distinguish between a man s comments and his

theories. With Parsons there are almost two different people in-
volved. His discussion of concrete issues, such as the role of the
doctor in American society, or the general discussion of the Ameri-
can family at the beginning of Family, Socialization and Interac-
tion Process, is often clear, cogent, perceptive and exciting.

the theorist begins to talk, however, his style becomes more d ffi- j

cult, his sentences awkward, and his meaning unclear. Theoretical

language frequently sacrifices liveliness and grace for accuracy of

communication, but it must be accurate. We have seen several ex-
amples of how Parsons’ theoretical language is far from precise. It
is full of sliifting meanings and vague antecedents. For a theory

this is a fatal defect. Parsonian tlieor}'^ cannot be a good theory

until re\vritten in a coherent, consistent fashion,
A conceptualization cannot be dismissed summarily, however,
just because it is obscure— or for that matter, because it is wrong.
We have a few serious attempts at general theory^ building in social

science and no clear successes. Most attempts at theory in social

science must be evaluated and criticized partly hke literature and
only partly like science. If man’s conceptualization of human be-
havior provides insights that enable others to understand it better
and function more effectively, it has value even if it is an untenable
scientific theory. But a social scientist, in contrast to a social com-
mentator, must devise his conceptualizations with an eye to their
incorporation into genuine theories and to their ultimately be-
coming testable. Therefore, the critic of these proto-theories must
try to be a seer and estimate the contribution a conceptualization is
likely to make development of genuine scientific theory.
to the
With that ambitious purpose in mind, what might be said about
the possible contributions of Parsons’ concepts to the development
of a theory of personality development?
The functional viewpoint of the family: Parsons emphasizes over
and over again the interrelations between the personality and the

social system. He tries to trace out the effects of a personality

change on the other people and various sub-systems witlrin the
family. Fimther, he show how these effects reflect back on
tries to

the individual as social pressures and stimuli, that result in further

changes until the entire system reaches some reasonably stable
TOE PARSOXIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY * 185

state. This effort can hardly help but contribute to personality

theory. It is a healthful counteraction to the tendency of psycholo-
gists to view environment solely as cause of behavior rather than
as effect also. Even an important point of view tliat
if it fails, it is

will be less likely to be ignored now that Parsons has emphasized

it so strongly.
The isomorphism between personality and social system: This

conviction of Parsons seems to the present critic the root of many

difficulties and confusions. It began with Bales’ assumption of

isomorphism between small face-to-face groups in the laboratory

and the society as a svhole. In that setting the assumption led to
interesting research and novel methods of analysis. The empirical
findings suggested immediately the possible value of drawing a
parallel between tire family and societjL
The isomorphism of the personality and the social system is, how-
ever, a different matter. The effort to maintain this analogy seems
responsible for some of the basic troubles wth die theory. For ex-
ample, the absence of so many needs in Figure 10 seems to stem
somehow from the insistence that every need-disposition must cor-
respond to some social role, and eveiy need-disposition must corre-
spond to one combination of the five pattern variables.
Perhaps the difficult}' lies in a too rigid interpretation of the
parallels between one dynamic system and another. It is not at
all unlikely that both the personality and the social system are

dynamic systems whose components are interdependent and whose

pattern is in some sort of equilibrium, but such a faith does not
require the [Link] that need-dispositions correspond to people.
The problem of integrating motives Mitliin the person bears only a
slightresemblance to that of integrating people in a society, al-
though the problem of integration exists in both systems. People
are not caricatures of a particular motive-the glutton, the sadist,
and so on. They have complicated behavior patterns in different
situations and this complexih’ is involved in their integration into
social systems. People are not conceptual
units, they are chunks of
flesh u'ithin a sldn
operating as a physical entit}'. Need-dispositions,
on the other hand, are conceptual constructs defined to have only
one proport}'-motivalion. To endow them wth sufficient com-
plexity to sustain the analog}' to the person would destroy their
186 • Alfred L. Baldwin

usefulness as motivational elements. If one felt forced to draw

an analogy between personality and the social system, it would
seem much more sensible to make needs correspond to social roles
rather than to individual actors.
This argument, if valid, leads to the
judgment that Parsons’ in-
sistenceon isomorphism is not one of the valuable contributions of
his work on which social science may build.
The impoverishment of personality: It seems fair to say tliat Par-
sons in his theory to provide the personality with any reason-
fails

able set of properties or mechanisms aside from need-dispositions,

and gets himself into trouble by not endowing the personality with
enough characteristics and enough different kinds of mechanisms
for it to be able to function.
Even when he is writing chapters on personality structure. Par-
sons spends many more pages talking about social systems than he
does about personality. He draws the analogy between the per-
sonality and the social system strongly, but does not spend much
time discussing the way individual people function. His descrip-
tions of psychological reactions, when they do occur, frequently
show insight but are couched in the everyday language of common
sense. For example, in Family, Socialization and Interaction Proc-
ess, he discusses the phase labeled "primary adaptation.” This is

a kind of jar or shock tliat leaves the child up in the air; he is

frustrated. Parsons tlien lists, in the course of a few paragraphs,
tlie reactions tliat the child makes— such as clinging to the old state
of affairs, trying to get the mother to take the same kind of care

that she previously did, responding to the frustration with aggres-

sion, or displacing tlie aggression. Not all of these responses are
really provided for in the theory. He describes what happens when
people become frustrated, drawing upon common
sense and
Freudian theor}', but he is merely describing psychological reac-
tions, not putting them into his theory.
In The Social System there is a very interesting discussion of the
medical profession. In it Parsons points out the conflict that arises
because a doctor who is devoted to helping the patient and is
collectivity-oriented as far as the pair is concerned is restricted to
dealing with a specific aspect of the patient’s life and gets paid for
doing so. The collectivity-orientation seems to Parsons to lead
THE PABSONIAN THEORY OF PERSONALITY • 187

neutrally to a diffuse relationship between the doctor and patient.

This diffuse relationship is not entirely compatible %vith specializa-

tion of functions. The collectivity-orientation is similarly out of tune
with receipt of payment.
This observation is shrewd, but there is no psychological mecha-
nism in tlie theory tliat would make it possible to derive the
prediction that a collectivity-orientation tends to lead the individual
into a diffuse relationship with the other person in the collectivity.
A third example can be found in the discussion of oedipal sociali-
zation. Parsons is trying to describe how the cliild has, to some ex-
tent, lost the mother as an instrumental agent of care, and how he
must shift over to the acceptance of the father as tlie instrumental
person in the family. The father does not actually take over the
mother s care functions, but, nevertheless, functions as a more in-
strumental person than the mother. This description poses a very
interesting psychological problem. If the child has perceived die
mother as instrumental and now she stops being so, just how would
he now come to perceive the father as instrumental?
Parsons struggles with the problem, and suggests that the transi-
tion occurs via the parental role which the mother and father share.
Gradually, in tliis way, die child's perception of the instrumental
function moves from the "mother" to the "parent" to the "father."
This may or may not be a valid account, but even if it is. Parsons'
dieory, however persuasive, seems to me to provide no psycho-
logical mechanism. Wlien Parsons is describing psychological re-
actions of individual people, he frequently proceeds on common-
sense grounds, and not by way of any psychological dieory.
The importance of the psychological basis of behavior may be
well illustrated by reference to roles. Parsons defines roles in terms
of mutual expectations and tacitly assumes diat these expectations
are, in fact, the psychological instigators of role-behavior. As a
result, he does not distinguish the role-definition from the psycho-
logical mechanisms by which people are led, guided, instigated,
forced, or rewarded into actually complying with the role-expecta-
tion. People do fulfill role requirements, but they fulfill them in a
variety of ways, and by way of a variety of psychological mecha-
nisms. Sometimes diey fulfill diem as instrumental acts to avoid
punishment or to gain rewards. Sometimes people fulfill die role
188 • Alfred L. Baldwin

requirements because they are motivated to conform; for such

people, the presence of a standard is sufficient to instigate conform-
ing behavior. Other people-or tlie same person at different times
—may fulfill role requirements because they feel a moral imperative
about the behavior itself; for these people it may be unimportant

that a certain set of behaviors constitute a social role; for them the
actual behavior itself is seen as “something I ought to do.” Other
people may fulfill role requirements through love, loyalty, or senti-
ment for another person or for a collectivity. The mother cares for
her child— and in this way fulfills the role requirements of the
mother—largely tlrrough a natural expression of tliis love for the
child. Role requirements may also be met because the actual role-
behavior is itself a consummately, rewarding kind of action.
We see that there are many different psychological mechanisms
that can underHe die same role-behavior. Parsons sometimes ap-
pears to be thinking of one of these mechanisms and sometimes
another, probably without really distinguishing between them.
We should ask whether these psychological differences under-
lying role-behavior make any difference to the social system, for
Parsons is clearly primarily interested in talking about tlie latter.

If the distinctions that the psychologist makes amount to no more

than hair-splitting. Parsons is quite right to ignore them for his
purpose.
The distinctions are, however, important ones for the social sys-

tem. As long as the social system is functioning smoothly, and people

are, in fact, carrying out all their roles, as long as the roles are
intermeshing and interdigitating properly and the functional re-
quirements of tlie system are being met, the reasons why people
perform their roles are unimportant; die important thing is that the
actors do perform.
But Parsons does not intend to restrict himself to die smoothly

functioning social system. He is very much interested in strains and

changes in the system. Here, the psychological basis for role-be-
havior makes a big difference. Role-behavior that is merely instru-
mental for getting a reward will break down quickly under cer-
tain kinds of strain, and, on the odier hand, can be easily changed
to a different kind of role-behavior if the person finds himself in
a

new situation. Role-behavior, on the other hand, that is consum-

THE PARSONI/VN TOEORY OF PERSONAUTY • 189

matory in its o\vn riglit is much harder to change. Its stability,

therefore, could lead both to stability of a social system under

strain, or to rigidity of the social system if change were necessary.
Il^ien Parsons oversimplifies and impoverishes tlie personality in
his theoiy% it can have serious consequences on tire ability of tlie
theory to handle the problems that Parsons himself feels are cen-
tral.

THE PHASE PICTURE OF SOCIALIZATION

Any evaluation of Parsons’ contributions to personality

tlieoiy would be incomplete without some attention to his central
hypotliesis that socialization a double cycle in which the so-
is

cializing agency goes through a task-performance cycle: adapta-

tion, gratification, integration, and latency; whereas, the socialized
.system goes through a reverse cycle analogous to psychotherapy.
The trouble v'ith evaluation of this hypothesis is that it is funda-
mentally an empirical one, but tliere are no data on which to judge
it. In part, this particular hypothesis is testable; it could be investi-
gated by recording, in some fashion, all tire interactions in a family
relevant to some particular aspect of socialization like toilet train-
ing. The data should include parental discussions about toilet
and other relevant interactions rvith each other, as well
training,
as wath the child. These interactions could be coded by some
scheme similar to Bales’ interaction analysis and should show a
sequential patterning as described by the theory. Altlrough such a
research project would be difficult itwould be feasible and en-
lightening.
To test empirically the progress of the child from two to foiur
and then to eight degrees of differentiation is much more difficult.
In fact, it is probably impossible without adding many assumptions
and operational definitions to tlie scheme as proposed in Family,
Socialization, and Interaction Process. Some investigation of little
pieces of the however, might be possible. It would be in-
tlieor)',

teresting, for example, to see how tlie child’s conception of the

mother as reflected in liis behavior toward her changes as she
moves from a more to a less instrumental role. For example, the
190 • Alfred L. Baldwin

cliild will surely ask for less care in the areas where socialization
has progressed, but as he meets new difficulties requiring help in
new sorts of instrumental behavior, does he turn less to tlie mother
and more to the father for instrumental help?
As far as the main empirical content of Parsons’ tlieory is con-
cerned, therefore, the evaluation must await relevant data. It is
reassuring to find that some kinds of relevant empirical data can be
obtained. The theory is not completely untestable, but it is fair
to say that many of its features cannot be tested without much
clearer definitions of the relevant terms.
In summary, itseems to tliis critic, that personality theory has
quite understandably been somewhat of a sideline rather than a
central aspect of Parsons’ contributions. His sociological perspective
has led him to emphasize very important features of personality de-
velopment usually neglected by the psychologist, notably, die way
a person’s behavior has consequences on other people whose reac-
tions eventually feed back to cause changes in die person. On the
other hand, he has so impoverished the personality that it cannot
function effectively, even in his theory and for his problems. This
may be a result of liis functioning viewpoint, but may also stem
from what this critic feels is a basic diflBculty, a rigid insistence
upon isomorpliism between the personality system and the social
system. Despite these difficulties, the theory is certainly valuable
and suggests important lines of research. If it does this, its defects

can be quickly forgiven.

I
PARSONS’
XJrie Bronfenhrenner

I
THEORY
I
OF
I IDENTIFICATION

I. THE KEED FOR A NOIV-PARSONIAN APPROACH

TO PARSONS

It is a familiar tenet of most theories of identification

that close association with another leads to the taking on
of his characteristics. What
more, the theories assert
is

that such assimilation takes place even—perhaps especially

—when the particular other is an object of censure. We
would suggest tliat this same phenomenon occurs in the
realm of scholarly and scientific criticism; that is, the critic
is likely to take on the characteristics of the person criti-

cized— even those characteristics which he most vigorously

assails. The more completely he strives to come to terms

Note: Tliis essay represents a restatement and further extension of

ideas initially proposed in an earlier paper for presentation to the
faculty seminar by tlie author. Cf. U. Bronfenbrenner, “Freudian
Theories of Identification and Their Derivatives,” Child Development,
31: 15-40 (March 1960).
192 • XJrie Bronfenbrenner

with the specific substance and mode of thought of die author’s

work— even if only to attack them—the more his own conceptions
are apt to approach a correspondence—if only in opposition-to
the formulations he seeks to evaluate. We
would submit further
that Parsonian theory offers a case in point. This theory is often
censured for protean ambiguity, pretentiousness, lack of opera-
its

tional referents, excessive preoccupation ^vith overarching schemata

to the neglect of constituent substructures, and failure adequately
to relate the theory and distinguish it from the work of others.
Yet paradoxically the major critiques of Parsons’ contributions
often suflfer from these veiy shortcomings. In their efforts to do
justice to Parsonian theory “writ large,” they too are apt to rise
to aiiy levels of abstraction, to lose sight of die hard ground of
empirical fact, to perceive an over-simphfied and incomplete view
of die complex terrain below, and to be uninterested in the more
delimited but detailed descriptions of those who have painstakingly
surveyed segments of the same territory on foot.
In this essay, we shall strive to resist such pressures to isomorphism
by deliberately focusing our attention on a restricted segment of
Parsons’ thinking— a segment to which, for once, he does give con-
siderable attention— and endeavoring to evaluate this delimited con-
tribution in die light of theories developed by other workers to deal

with the same types of phenomena.

The dieoretical segment selected for diis comparative analysis
is Parsons’ extended treatment of the process of identification. Dis-

cussions of diis process appear in a number of sources (notably

The Social System, Toward a General Theory of Action, the orb- W
ing Papers, and Family, Socialization and Interaction Process), but
die principal exposition of this aspect of his dieory is set forth in
the volume on the family. We shall draw on all these sources in
our review.

II. THE FREUDIAN CONTEXT

Since Parsons admittedly takes Freud’s theory of identifi-

cation as die point of departure for his own formulations, we must
first acquaint ourselves with the basic features of the psychoanalytic
parsons’ theory of identification • 193

view. Having recently attempted to collate and integrate Freud’s

widely scattered writings on this topic,** tlie author has drawn
principally on this secondary source for preparing tlie summary
which follows.
Unfortunately for our piuposes, in his extensive discussions of
identification, as of all other topics, Freud was no less prolific or
protean than his sociological successor. In general, we can dis-
tinguish three major uses of tlie term "identification” in his writ-
ings. Most often, as in his discussion of the Oedipus complex,
Freud process—the sequential interplay of
treats identification as a
forces internal and external which impel the child to take on tlie
characteristics of tlie parent.
But, on occasion, Freud also uses the term “indentification” to de-
scribe the product or outcome of tlie process— the resultant similarity
in the characteristics of the child and the model. Moreover, there
is the furdier question of what aspects of the model are being

emulated. At. times, as in tlie example of the boy who identifies

wth a kitten by crawhng about on all fours, refusing to eat at the
table, and so on, it is the overt behavior of the model which is
being adopted. In other instances, as when Freud speaks of mould-
ing “one’s ego after tlie fashion of one that has been taken as a
model,” identification would appear to include internalization of
the motives as well as the overt behavior of another. Finally, in
his later writings it is not the parent’s ego witli which the child

identifies but his superego, his idealized standards for feeling and
action. In short, there are three aspects of the parent upon which
tlie cliild may pattern himself: the parent’s overt behavior, his
motives, or his aspirations for tlie child.
Finally, speaking of identification Freud frequently puts
in
emphasis neitlier on antecedent nor consequent variables but on an
intervening construct—the notion of a disposition or motive.f For
[Link], consider the statement by Freud tliat comes closest to
being a formal definition of what he meant by identification.

“ U. Bronfenbrenner, op. cit.

f CL
U. Bronfenbrenner and H. N. Ricciuti, “The Appraisal of Per-
sonality Characteristics in Children,” in P. H. Mussen, ed.. Handbook
of Research Methods in Child Development (New York; John Wilev
•’ ^
and Sons, 1960).
194 Urie Bronfenbrenner

easy to state in a formula the distinction between an

It is
identification witli the father and the choice of the father as an
object. In the first case, one’s father is what one would like to
be, and in the second he is what one would like to have. The
distinction, that is, depends upon whether tlie tie attaches to
the subject or the object of the ego. The former is therefore
already possible before any sexual object choice has been made.
It is much more difficult to give a clear metapsychological repre-
sentation of the distinction. We
can only see that identification
endeavours to mould a person’s own ego after the fashion of
one that has been taken as a “model.”

It is important to note that Freud’s concern is not with a highly

specific imitative impulse to mimic one or another isolated piece of
behavior. Rather^ he is positing a generalized tendency on the part
of ego to take on not merely discrete elements of the model, but
of the total pattern. Moreover, as Freud sees it, this tendency is

more mere readiness or passive susceptibility. On the con-

tlran a
trary, it is by an emotional intensity reflecting motiva-
characterized
tional forces of considerable power. These features of pattern and
power are reflected in Freud’s use, as virtual synonyms for identifi-
cation, of such terms as introjection and incorporation— words which
connote a total and somewhat desperate “swallowing whole” of the
parent figure.
Although Freud gives less explicit attention to tlie concept of
identification as a dispositional construct than to the discussion of
associated processes and products, the conclusion is inescapable
that it is the motive to become hke another that is the organizing
focus of his concerns; that is, he is interested primarily in the nature
and consequences of the processes that impel, or even compel, a
child to take on the characteristics of another person.
To return, then, to Freud’s theoi'ies of process. Here we have
distinguished two mechanisms which for a long time remained
fused in Freud’s thinking but are ultimately differentiated. The first
of these mechanisms involves identification as a function of loss of
love, the second as a function of fear of the aggressor. We shall

**
S. Freud, Group Psychology and the Analysis of the Ego (London:
Hogarth Press, 1948), pp. 62-63.
pabsons’ theory of identification • 195

refer to the former as anaclitic identificatton and to tlie latter by

Anna Freud’s classic phrase identification with the aggressor, or,

more briefly, aggressive identification.

The process of identification with the aggressor is most clearly
explicated in Freuds tlieory of die development of the Oedipus
complex in boys. To recapitulate the familiar thesis: the boy sees
his father as an all-powerful rival for the mother s aflEection; since
he cannot overcome this rival (for fear of castration) he attempts
to cope with the overwhelming power by allying liimself with it.
In common parlance, ‘‘if you can t beat ’em, join ’em.”
The principle of anaclitic identification, wliile implicit in Freud’s
early writings, is not fully explicated until Freud, in liis later years,

takesup the problem of the development of the Oedipus complex

inwomen. Since women are presumably already “castrated” they
would have no reason to identify with a tlireatening aggressor.
Wliat factors, then, motivate the girl to identify Avith adult stand-
ards and modes of behavior? Here is Freud’s answer.

Fear of castration is naturally not the only motive for repression;

to start witli, ithas no place in the psychology of women; they

have, of course, a castration complex, but they cannot have any
fear of castration. In its place, for tlie other sex, is found fear
of tlie loss of love, obviously a continuation of the fear of the
infant at the breast when it misses its mother. You wiU under-
stand what objective danger-situation is indicated by this kind
of anxiety. If the mother is absent or has withdrawn her love
from die child, it can no longer be certain tliat its needs will be
satisfied, and may be exposed to the most painful feelings of
tension.*

Such, then, are tlie concepts and processes which Parsons avow-
edly takes as the starting point of his own conceptions. Before turn-
ing to die latter, however, we must take note of some modifications
of Freud s theory of identification which turn out to be especially
relevant for Parsons’ formulations.

* S. Freud, New Introductory Lectures in Pstjchoanalusis (New York;

W. W. Norton, 1933), p. 12L
196 Urie Bronfenbrenner

m. mowrer’s “alternative view”

I refer to the revision of Freud’s theory of identification

proposed by Mowrer,* who, while accepting the context and char-
acter of the mechanisms proposed by Freud, takes issue witli the
latter’s view tliat identification is more diflicult for the girl than

for the boy. In view of tlie similarity of Mowrer’s position to that

subsequently taken by Parsons, we quote the pertinent portions of
Mowrer’s exposition.

. . . Because Freud assumed that object choice is primary and

identification derived tlierefrom, he believed tlrat tlie psycho-
sexual development of boys is simpler than that of girls, since
boys can at an early date take women as sex objects and retain
diem as such throughout life; but girls, Freud conjectured, hav-
ing, like die boys, taken the mother as the first sex object, must
later abandon this object choice in favor of men and assume
instead an identification relationship with the mother and with
women generally. The alternative hypothesis here suggested
holds that the situation is die reverse. Because the infant’s first
experiences of care and affection are with the mother, we infer
. that there will be a tendency for children of both sexes
. . . . .

to identify widi the modier. This provides a path of develop-

ment which die female child can follow indefinitely; but the
male child must, in some way, abandon the mother as a personal
model and shift his loyalties and ambitions to his father. Once
the boy and the girl are securely aligned wth the mother, and
the fadier, respectively, the terms of their basic character struc-
ture, then, as specific sexual needs arise, they can be handled
along lines prescribed as correct and proper for members of
their particular sex.
However, we must not neglect to consider die question of
how it is that the boy, whose primal identification is ordinarily

with the mother—for example, mothers almost certainly play a

greater role in their infant’s learning to walk and talk than do
their fathers—how it is that the boy eventually abandons the

* O. H. Mowrer, “Identification: A Link between Learning Tlieoiy

and Psychotherapy,” in Learning Theory and Personality Dynamics
(New York: Ronald Press, 1950), pp. 573-616; O. H. Mowrer,
“Neurosis and Psychotherapy as Interpersonal Process: A Synposis,
in O. H. Mowrer, ed.. Psychotherapy: Theory and Research (New
York: Ronald Press, 1953), pp. 69-94.
parsons" theory of identification • 197

mother as his personal guide and takes instead the father. Here
we have few facts to guide us, but we may plausibly conjecture
tJint tlie first identification which infants make with mother
figures is undifferentiated. By tihis I mean that tlie small child
probably comes to perceive tlie mother, not as a woman
first

who is distinct from men, but simply as a human being, differ-

ent in no systematic way from other adult figures in die environ-
ment The personal characteristics which are acquired though
identification with, or imitation of, the mother during this period
are characteristics or accomplishments which are appropriate to
all persons, male and female alike. It is only at a later stage,
presumably, tliat die child hecomes aware of the partition of
mankind into two sexes; and it is then that the father, who has
played a somewhat subsidiary role up to diis point, normally
comes foiward as the boy s special mentor, as his proctor, guide,
and model in matters which will help the boy eventually to
achieve full adult status in his society, not only as a human
being, but also in the unique status of a man. This, we note,
involves two tilings: (1) being a man in the sense of being
lionorable, reliable, industrious, skilful, courageous, and courte-
ous; and (2) being a man in die sense of being masculine, i.e.,
sexually oriented toward members of the opposite sex."*

In short, Mowrer suggests that the series of identifications through

which the child passes involves the progressive differentiation of
social objects first with respect to age, and then to sex. It is this
notion of sequential differentiation (apparently arrived at quite in-
dependently) which becomes tlie core of Parsons’ theory of identifi-
cation.

IV. PARALLELISMS IN FREUD’s AND PARSONS’ THEORIES

Webegin our consideration of Parsons’ theory by noting

points of convergence \vith liis psychoanalytic predecessor. To be-
gin wtli, tlie generalized motive to become like another stands,
vddi Parsons as with Freud, at the core of the concept of identifi-
cation, Tims, in Toward a General Theory of Action, the following
distinction f is drawn between identification and imitation:

® Mowrer, '’Identification,” pp. 607-8.

t The same distincb'on is drawn in The Social System
(p, 211 ).
198 • Urie Bronfenbrenner

Two major mechanisms for the learning of patterns from social

objects are imitation, which assumes only that alter provides a
model for the specific pattern learned without being an object
of generalized cathectic attachment; and identification, which
implies that alter is the object of such an attachment and there-
fore serves as a model not only with respect to a specific pattern
in a specific context of learning but also as a model in a general-
ized sense. Alter becomes, that is, a model for general orienta-
tions, not merely for specific patterns. (GTA 129)

Similarly, if we interpret it correctly, Parsons’ theory of the

antecedents of identification is a restatement, in still anodier and
even more esoteric language, of the now familiar mechanism of
withdrawal of love. He takes as his point of departure the four-phase
‘paradigm of social control” originally proposed in The Social Sys-
tem (300-26) and furdier elaborated in die Working Papers
(238-45). Applying his conceptual scheme primarily to tlie thera-
peutic process. Parsons distinguishes four sequential stages: per-
missiveness (“allowing the patient to express himself”), support
(“to tolerate the excessive demands of the patient and ‘accept’ him
as a human being”), denial of reciprocity (“the denial of response-
reward, including . .
.
being duly punished for an
gratification in
aggressive act”), and manipulation of rewards (“a process of rein-
forcing ‘reality oriented’ adaptive instrumental performance”). In
die volume on die family (FSI), Parsons offers this same four-
phase sequence as the basic foundation for his theory of socializa-
tion and, more specifically, identification. Thus, in her treatment of
the child, the mother begins with permissiveness and support which
develop in the child “a diflfuse attachment to her, a dependency on
her.” [italics Parsons’]

We may presume that once dependency in this sense has

come to be well established, the demand for attention, and for

specific acts of care expands. child manifests what, from the

The
point of view of the motlier’s standards of child care, are illegiti-
mate positive wishes. He is waked up at certain times though
he would rather be allowed to sleep, he is given only so much
to eat, lessthan he wants, he is put down when he would like
‘
her to continue to fondle him, etc. ^Vhereas his dependency in
general is welcomed and rewarded, excessive manifestations are
pruned off by denial of reciprocity. The balance between
. . .

denial of reciprocity and positive reward gradually leads to the

PABSONS' THEORY OF IDENTIFICATION • 199

establisliment of a stable ‘*orientatioii” or expectation system in

the child, the organization of his behavior both around the rela-
tion to tlie motlier as an object and involving certain standards
of what are and are not legitimate expectations of his o^vn
gratification and of her behavior. When this process has reached
a certain stage we can speak of tlie internalization of tlie mother
as an object as having taken place. This internalization
. . . is

what Freud meant by ego’s primary identification. (FSI 65)

A more detailed analysis of the above sequence, tliis time in five

stages, appears in the chapter by Parsons and Olds on "'The Mecha-
nisms of Personality Functioning.” Here the parallelism with Freud s
anaclitic theory is revealed in terminology as well as thought. In
describing the process of internalization, the authors quote Olds^
statement that the “ego must, after his initial shock "return to’ the
old object.” They go on to say:

Tlie mechanisms by wliich tliis occurs have to do with what he

has elsewhere called the “law of motive growth” whereby, after
being deprived in certain respects of gratification through an
object, one comes to want it more intensely and more “uncondi-
tionally” than before. (FSI 210)

The new fiftli stage of the sequence is identification itself.

. . die end product of this phase of the socialization cycle

.

seems to us to be tlie appropriate place to use die term iden-

tification, Tliis essentially means diat internalization of the new
object system has been successfully completed that from . . .

now on egos major ""predispositions” or ""orientations” are to act

newly internalized object system and the motives
in terms of the
which are organized in it. (FSI 229)

V. PARSONS VS. FREUD

Wiere then does Parsons diverge from Freud? Principally

on the question of content, of what is internalized. The specific
issues are raised in Parsons essay on the superego (WP
13-29).
The sociologist differs until tlie ps)^choanalyst on three major
counts: First, Parsons criticizes Freud
for failing to recognize dial
identification results in tlie internalization not only of moral
stand-
200 • Urie Bronfenbrenner

ards (the superego) but also the cognitive and expressive features
of the parent and through him of the culture as a whole.

The general purport of this criticism is that Freud, with his

formulation of tiie concept of superego, made only a beginning
at an analysis of the role of common culture in personality. The
structure of his theoretical scheme prevented him from seeing
the possibilities for extending the same fundamental analysis
from the internalization of moral standards—which he applied to
the superego— to the internalization of the cognitive frame of
reference for interpersonal relations and for the common system
of expressive symbolism; and similarly it prevented him from
seeing die extent to which these three elements of the common
culture are integrated with each other. (WP 20-21)

In a second and derivative challenge, Pai'sons takes exception

to what he regards as an exclusively constitutional basis for Freuds
tlieory of sexuality.

. . . Freud speaks of the original ‘bi-sexuality*' of the child. The

presumption is that he postulated a constitutionally given duality

of orientation. In terms of the present approach, there is at least

an alternative hypothesis possible which should be explored.
This hypodiesis is that some of the principal facts which Freud
interpreted as manifestations of constitutional bisexuality can
be explained by the fact that tiie categorization of human per-
sons—including the actor's categorization of himself as a point
of reference— into two sexes is not, except in its somatic points
of reference, biologically given but, in psychological significance,
must be learned by the child. It is fundamental that children of
both sexes start life with essentially the same relation to the
mother, a fact on which Freud himself righdy laid great stress.
It may then be suggested that the process by which the boy
learns to differentiate himself in terms of sex from the mother
and in this sense to “identify" with the father, while the girl
learns to identify with the mother, is a learning process. One
major part of the process of growing up is tire internalization of
one's o^vn sex role as part of the self-image. It may weU be tliat
this way of looking at the process will have the advantage of
making the assumption of constitutional bisexuality at least
partly superfluous as an explanation of the individual's sex
identification. Inany case it has the great advantage of linking
the determination of sex categorization directly witli the role
structure of the social system in a theoretical as well as an
empii'ical sense. (WP 21-22)
PABSONS" THEOm OF IDENTIFICATION • 201

In the light of our ONvn analysis of Freud's theories of identifi-

cation, we are inclined to doubt Parsons' contention that Freud
overlooked the possibility of learning as a mechanism in the de-
velopment of identification. But by now die reader is in a position
to judge tlie merits of the argument for himself. Parsons' final con-
tention in tlie above quotation, however, can hardly be challenged.
Certainly Freud has not linked “the determination of sex categori-

zation (irecdy with die role structure of die social system/' Par-
sons' thirdand major criticism of Freud focuses around this very
issue and becomes the major theme of the sociologist's complex
revision and extension of Freudian theor)^ in Family, Socialization
and Interaction Process. Here Parsons states:

Freud wasclearly very much on the right track, and in fact

gave us foundations of the present view. But what Freud
tlie
lacked was a sj^stematic analysis of the structure of social rela-
tionships in which the process of socialization takes place. It is
this which we are attempting to supply. (FSI 104)

A prolonged effort on the part of this waiter to extract die ele-

ments of die Patsonian analysis convinces him that the word “sys-
tematic" in the above quotation is being used in a truly Pickwickian
sense. Adding to the usual difiBculties of Parsonian prose (indeed it
must be parsed to be understood) is the fact that the dieory is
stated at considerable lengdi not once but twice—in Chapters II
and III by Parsons alone and in Chapter IV by Parsons and Olds
jointly, employing a somew^hat different set of concepts.
The basic features of the two formulations, however, are highly
similar. The fundamental notion is that the cliild passes through
not one but a series of identifications. The nature of these successive
identifications is determined by the reciprocal roles being taken by
parent and child at successive stages of the child's development. To
understand tliese stages, how’ever, we must first take cognizance of
the four basic “status-roles" ivhich Parsons regai'ds as inherent in
the structure of the nuclear family. These family roles are dis-
tinguished in terms of two major axes, “symbolized,” according to
Parsons, 'by the two great differentiations of generation ... and
sex." The first axis is tliat of power, ivith the parents being superior
and tlie child inferior. The second is the familiar Parsonian polarity
202 • Vrie Bronfenbrenner

of expressive vs. instrumental function. The former, associated

primarily witli the motlier, involves being ‘ afiEectionate, solicitous,
warm, emotional to tlie children and serving as “the mediator and
’

conciliator of tlie family.” In contrast, the instrumental function

refers primarily to “establishing the desired relations to external
goal objects” (e.g.,working at a job) and acting as "the final judge
and executor of punishment, discipline, and control over tlie chil-
dren of tlie family.” Given tliis last illustration of tlie instrumental
orientation, the writer has diflBculty in distinguishing
it from the

presumably orthogonal factor of power. Be that as it may. Parsons’

distinction between parental roles seems to parallel fairly closely
Freud’s descriptions of the nurturing mother and the punitive
father. But one important difference may be discerned. The fathers
role, while involving discipline and control, is not predominantly
and perhaps primarily, adaptive and directed at
hostile; it is also,
manipulation of the environment. We shall consider the implica-
tions of this difference later in our discussion. At the moment, we
return to the problem of developmental stages.
Parsons emphasized tliat, at the outset, tlie young child cannot
respond to the parental roles in tlieir fully differentiated form.
Moreover, the parental behaviors to which the child is exposed are
segmental and not representative of tlie full role-repertoire of the
parent. For example, in the beginning the mother’s function is
primarily instrumental; she gives the child physical care. Since
care not always fortlicoming, this “denial of reciprocity” leads
is

the child to his first identification—“the internalization of the mother

. in her role as a source of care.” Parsons emphasizes that “It is
. .

not the motlier as a total personality as seen by adults that has been
internalized, but tliat aspect of her with which ego has stood in a
meaningful relationship of interaction." (FSI 65) Moreover, since
for Parsons a role always implies a reciprocal relationship, the
denial of reciprocity leads to an identification not only voth the
motlier as an agent of care but also with a primordial image of
the child himself as “the object of care.”
Herein lies the crux of Parsons’ theory of the content of identifica-
as
tion. At any given stage, the cliild identifies not with the parent
a total person but with the reciprocal role-relationship that is
functional for the child at a particular time. Parsons stipulates a
parsons’ theory of identification • 203

specificsequence of sucli role-relationships. Followng his identifica-

tion with the mother as a source of care, the child enters
the stage
of affection
of *love dependency” in wliich the motlier’s expressions
become rewarding in and of tliemselves; in other words, the child
becomes responsive to the “expressive” aspects of the mother’s func-
tion. Since “a mother’s love ... is always conditional,” the denial
of reciprocity at this level leads to internalization of the mother
as a giver of love and liimself as a loved object.
Identification at the tliird or Oedipal stage reaches a new level

of complexity. It is important to recognize. Parsons asserts, that at

both earlier levels of identification the mother is still undiffer-
entiated with respect to sex. It is only in the Oedipal phase that
the cliild first recognizes and internalizes the distinction between
male and female, again simultaneously both in relation to his
parents and liimself.

. . the crucial event of this phase is the first stage of the as-
.

sumption by the child of his sex role. The pre-oedipal child is,
we assume, in the sense of fundamentally personality constitu-
tion, sexless— as is in literal terms the “mother,” since we assume
that for the child the differentiation of the two parents as ob-
jects by sex has not yet on the requisite level been internalized.
... In the earlier phases there was only one ascribed role the
child could assume—more or less satisfactorily. Now he must
"choose” between ttoo— tliough the pressure to choose the ascrip-
tively right one is overwhelmingly great. (FSI 78)

Once more the differentiation occurs because of a shift in the

parental role pattern presented to the cliild. Specifically, the expres-
sive and instrumental functions are now divided between the
parents with tlie motlier specializing in the former and the father
in the latter.

... in the mother-child system, it was the mother who played

the predominantly instrumental role, whereas in the wider family
system of which the mother-child is, it will be remembered, a
sub-system, it is the father. This is to say that the father is,
. . .

sjnnbolically at least, the primary source of tlie new “demands”-

for conformity and autonomous performance. The mother,
on
the other hand, tiiis time as distinct “person,” remains the pri-
mary source of “security” or "acceptance” in the love-relation-
ship. (FSI 79-80) .
206 * Urie Bronfenbrenner

and a constructive way out of them. Freud, it will be remem-

bered, introduced the concept in connection with what, above,
we have called the motlier-child identity/' The principal difTi-
‘

culty seems to arise from tlie attempt to use tlie same concept in
relation to the processes which go on in tl\e oedipal period,
above all with reference to sex~role assumption. Thus a boy is
often said to “identify" witli his fatlier at tliis period and a girl
with her mother.
In oxir opinion the trouble comes from sticking to tlie attempt
to deal only witli tlie relation to one role-personality in a situa-
tion where multiple role-relations are already involved. In the
case of “primaiy" identification tliere was only one object, the
nurturing or “caring" motlier. Identification with this object
could be treated as an adequate focus of the total internalization
process. From the child's point of view, in the significant sense,
he and the motlier become one.
When it comes to the oedipal period, on tlie other hand, for
the boy his fatlier is only one of four basic tjqies of object. . . .

Whathappens, then, is the reorganization of tlie total per-

sonality as a system. This involves the addition, htj fission, of
two new object-units, the fatlier as discriminated from mother
and the discrimination of ego from sibling of opposite sex. There
is also a differentiation of tlic collectivity structure from the

simple mother-child “we" to a familial “wc" witli six potential

elementary sub-collectivities. The focus of a son's identification
witli his fatlier is his self-categorization as belonging to the
“we-males" sub-collectivit)"—which is the same tiling as saying
that lie and fatlier share die category of “molcncss." It means
that tills we is set over against a “tliey" of tlie females to wliich
he caniwt belong. But tliere is another tliey to which he also
cannot belong, namely that of the “parents”—in this nuclear
family— and his fatlier does belong to tliis one. In tin's sense the
boy cannot identify witli, i.e., play tlic role of, his father, but
only \rith his brotlier if any, and witli respect to generation, not
sex, his sister. It is, however, profoundly tnic that in tin's process
both boy and girl internalize the father as an object. This asjiect
is strictly parallel witli internalization of the mother in the
primary identification, but the otliers clearly arc not parnllel, for

tlie simple reason tliat in a one-unit system tliere arc no analo-

gies to many features of a four-unit system. . . .

Wc suggest that die term identification has tended to be used

to designate a variety of these different aspects of the total
complex, but that the complex as a whole has not been adc'
quatcly analyzed. We can suggest a usage of the term which is
free of ambiguity, namely that identification should designate
PABSONS’ THEORY OF IDENTIFICATION • 207

the process of internalization of any common collective “we-

categorization ’ and with it the common values of die requisite
collectivity. In this meaning of the term, in the oedipal phase
of development a child undergoes not one but three new iden-
tifications. Two of them are common to members of both sexes,

namely internalization of the familial we-category, and of the

sibling category, namely *Sve children.” The third, by sex, difiFers
for children of each sex, in this third sense the boy identifies
with his father, the girl with her mother. (FSI 91-93)

As the reader may have already recognized. Parsons" reformula-

tion of Freud's theory of identification remarkably similar to the
is

previously cited revision of Mowrer, The parallelism is even more

clearly apparent in Parsons" views on the differences between the
sexes in die resolution of the Oedipus complex. Like Mowrer,
he argues that Freud was wrong in believing tliat the resolution
is more difficult for the girl than for the boy. The latter, Parsons

contends,

. has to undergo at this stage a double ^‘emancipation.” In

. .

common with his sister he has to recognize that, in a sense not

previously so important, he must not pretend to adulthood, he
is unequivocally a child. But as differentiated from her, he must

substitute a new identification with an unfamiliar and in a veiy

important sense threatening object, the father, at the expense of
his previous solidarity with liis mother. He must renounce his
previous dependency in a wore radical sense. The girl, on the
other hand, though she must internalize the father as an object,
does so only in his role as instmmental leader of the family as
a system, not in the dual role which includes sex-role-model as
well. Similarly, she remains categorized with her mother by sex,
wliich coincides wtli the previous a-sexual (but not non-erotic)
motlier-child solidarity. Put a little differently, the boy must
proceed farther and more radically on die path away from
expressive primacy toward instrumental primacy. He is, there-
fore, subjected to greater strain. (WP 98-9)

Parsons goes beyond Mowrer in one important aspect. He points

out that tlie cliild in identifying with the parent of the same sex
begins to exhibit behavior which is sex-typed but by no means
identical with behaidor of tlie adult parent. The discrepancy, Par-
sons asserts, is more marked for tlie boy, and is related to two
208 • Urie Bronfenhrenner

model and the degree of anxiety

factors—tlie clarity of the role
generated by the very conflict which motivates the child to seek
a new identity.

The boy . tends to attempt to aet out what are symbolic

. .

representatives of the instrumental aspects of adult masculine

roles. These are notably nonfamilial in content. He plays with
trams, cars, airplanes. He more or less explicitly assumes rela-
tively tangible adult masculine roles such as fireman or soldier.
He puts great emphasis on physical prowess. But his play is a
less exact copy of the specific father role than his sister s is of
the mother. This may well be explained, partly at least, by two
facts. First the mother role is far more uniform than the mascu-
line occupational role; the girl has a rather specific role-model
stereotype. Secondly, being, as we have suggested, under less
acute strain, the girl is less driven to the kinds of symbols which
tangibly express compulsively tinged sex-qualities. Thus both
the difficulty of understanding many middle-class occupations—
their remoteness, and the fact that not involving physical
prowess or skills, they do not patently symbolize masculinity-
may prevent the mrban middle-class boy from so directly emu-
lating his father as the gul does her mother. (FSI 100)

Here Parsons’ argument is reminiscent of Freud’s statement that

the child identifies not with the parent as he actually is but \vitli

die parental imago, an image distorted in part by the child’s own

anxieties and needs.
One final feature of Parsons’ conception of identification at the
Oedipal stage remains to be noted. In accordance with his theory

of 'Tiinary fission,” Parsons takes the position that the sliift of the

child from a two-member to a four-member social system is re-

flected in a parallel development in personality organization. In

his words, “tlie internalized object aspect ego differentiates from
a two-unit personality structure to a four-unit structure by a process
of bifurcation, on die instrumental-expressive dimension.” (FSI 78)

The rationale of Parsons’ next step is not fully clear. In a paragraph

which could stand as a model of tiieoretical ellipsis, he writes;

Turning to tlie need-disposition aspect of the new organiza-

tion, we have treated tlie “dependency” need of the earlier
the
stage, corresponding to die parental object, as divided into
“nurturance” need and the “conformity” need, as aspects of the
PAnSONS* THEOnV OF IDEXTtnCATION'
* 209

internalized mother and fatlicr objects respectively. Correspond-

ingly the "autonomy” need-disposition of the earlier [Link] is
treated as dividing into those of “security" as tiie expressively
differentiated or "feminine” self, and “adequacy" as tlie instru-
mcntally differentiated or "masculine” self-object. (FSI 83)

Parsons does provide definitions— albeit somewhat idiosyncratic

ones—of die four personality variables here introduced. 'Ntirlurance
”
is “tlie positive gralificalorj' aspect of the original giving of ‘care.’
Security "the need to receive love or acceptance and to ‘show
is

solidarity’ in relation to alter.” Adequacy "refers to the autonomous

pcr/orniancc aspect, tlie need and disposition to do specific tilings
which are expected and acceptable.” Finally, conjormity “refers to
the need-disposition to enforce or to implement conformity with
the highest level of normative standards which ha\'e yet been
internalized.” Parsons adds tliat “the superego clearly comes very
close to what we have called the conformity' need-disposition, and
tlie internalized father-object clearly agrees with Freud.”

Granting that in a very general way diese hvo pairs of disposi-

tions reflect the giving and receiving aspects of Parsons’ e-xpressive
and insfrumental functions, it is nevertheless difficult to grasp how
these particular personality' characteristics become the necessary
.sc.v-spccific The
products of the resolution of the Oedipal conflict.
origins of the presumed “masculine” attributes of adequacy and
conformity arc [Link] puzzling in tliis respect, i.e., how does
it follow, from Parsons’ theory as distinguished from Freud’s, that
the .superego is the product of identification with the father and
can be so “clearly” equated with the internalized recipient aspect
of the instrumental fiinction? This writer’s effort to fathom the
alleged inevitability of these theoretical interconnections was not
successful.
Parsons’ discussion of Ici'cls of identification
beyond the Oedipal
becomes increasingly recondite. The next social objects which
.stage

become relevant for the child, he asserts, lie outside the family
in the school
and peer group. It is interaction in these social systems,
Parsons argues, that enables the youngster to differentiate roles
uithin a given catcgoiy of age and sex. He states:

. To an adult, a boj’s father is of

. .
course only one instance of
the uni\-ersalistical!y defined category of “man.” But
to the
210 • Urie Bronfenhrenner

oedipal boy the discrimination of “father” and “man” has not

yet been made, similarly of “mother” and “woman,” “self-
brother” and “boy,” “sister” and “girl.” The question, then, is
what social structures present these discriminations to him. . . .

It is manifestly clear that the family cannot perform these

functions by itself, because it does not have the necessary struc-
tural difiFerentiation. We have suggested . .that family, school,
.

and peer group should, in our society, for this purpose be treated
as a single social system, comprising the whole range of the
pre-adolescent’s significant social participations. (WP 114)

The nature of the role relationships in which the child becomes

involved in school and peer group are not fully detailed. We are
told only that “tlie instrumental subtypes are found mainly in the
school, the expressive ones mainly in the peer group.” (WT 52)
Nor are the ways in which “denial of reciprocity” and “manipula-
tion of rewards” operate to induce identification at this level clearly
outlined; one is merely left with the impression that parents,
teachers, and peers are all relevant as agents of socialization.
The discussion of identification at the final level of the “adult
community even more elliptical. Parsons’ theory of
structure” is

personality development in adulthood reaches its climax in a table

showdng the proliferation of need-dispositions by binary fission to
the level of 2^ and a total of thirty-one variables comprising the
“motivational complex of the mature personality system.” One
cannot help wondering what wondrous entity emerges from the
next unspoken stage of binary fission, or the one after that? Perhaps,
like its physical counterpart, the process reaches some crucial
maximal level at which the entire structure ejq)lodes in a mush-
room cloud of social chaos.

VI. A SUMMING UP

At any event, we have completed our survey of a delimited

aspect of Parsonian theory to which he accords considerable atten-
tion and importance. How are we to evaluate this particular con-
ceptual contribution? Having labored long and loyally in pursuit
of new and useful theoretical ideas in Parsons’ treatment of the
PABSONS’ XEIEORY OF IDENTIFICATION * 211

topic, reviewer has been disappointed. By and large, it has

tliis

been difficult to discern much that is fundamentally new beyond

the terminology. Although Parsons points emphatically to tlie need
for revising and expanding Freud's tlieory in several directions, his

own efforts along diese lines fall far short of the expectations he
creates; either he restates in even less precise language ideas that
are already familiar in tlie \vrltings of otliers or he offers concep-
tions which, tliough provocative, are so diffuse that the basic tasks
of theory construction have to be performed by the reader himself.
Accordingly, it is perhaps merely a reflection of this author s limita-
tions as a theorist that after earnest and repeated perusal of Parsons*
writings on he has had little success in deriving for-
identification,
mulations that substantially modify or clarify eJdsting tlieories in
this sphere. Specifically only two ideas emerged from this analysis
which, to the writer’s knowledge, are not found in earlier treatments
of identification. Both of tliese derive from Parsons* distinction
between instrumental and expressive functions and the differential
allocation of these two functions between the parents. If, as Par-
sons suggests, withdrawal of love can be used as a technique for
motivating the child to identify with the instrumental pattern of
moving out into and manipulating the environment, then we have
a possible basis for positing different processes and products of
superego formation in the two sexes. Thus male morality may be
more concerned with general principles of conduct in relation to
the outside world, while female morality centers about personal
feelings and intimate interpersonal Such variation
relationships.
in die content or focus of the superego could be produced through
die use of withdrawal of love in two somewhat different contexts.
With girls this teclinique might be employed principally with
reference to intimate family relationships, with boys more in regard
to performance and achievement both within and outside the home.
Finally, since the fathers, who are presumably instrumentally and
externally oriented, are likely to have closer associations with sons
than wth daughters, boys would be more likely to develop a
principled and objective (situation-oriented) superego. In con-
trast, girls—who, according to recent research findings,* are par-

* R. R. Sears, E. Maccoby, and H. Levin, Patterns of Child Rearing

{Evanston, Row, Peterson, 1957).
Illinois:
PARSONS’
Henry A. Landsherger

I
THEORY
I
OF
I ORGANIZATIONS

INTRODUCTION

The Relevance of Organization Theory to Parsons

For Parsons, complex organizations are an excellent test

of his general theory and, if liis theory is correct, organiza-
tion tlieorists should in their turn have much to gain from
it. Parsons’ definition of organizations makes them appear
to epitomize the three problems faced by social systems
in which he has been most interested: problems which are
known as tlie dilemma of freedom versus order in the
elegant but cryptic language of social philosophy.
formal organizations contain subunits (individuals,
First,
departments and functions, occupational groups), and
organizations can in turn be thought of as subunits of
larger systems (such as the educational system or the econ-
omy). Through what mechanisms and with what success
can the activities of units at one level be integrated into
parsons’ theory of organizations
• 215

a higher level? To what extent should they and need they be

so integrated? Students of organizations have paid a great
deal

of attention to these problems. Those studying these problems at

one organizational level have often not been aware, and might
not concede, that they have parallels at other levels within the
organization and beyond it, let alone that organizations may share
the problem with other parts of society. Making such generality
explicit, is, after all, precisely the function of a general theory:
assuming, that is, tliat such generality really exists.

Secondly, activities in clearly ‘mo-

formal organizations are
tivated,” i.e., oriented toward the achievement of some goal. The

problem arises of tlie extent to which, and through what means,

the goals as well as die activities of units at various levels need to
be integrated. Wliile Parsons regards goal orientation as the dis-
tinguishing feature of all social action, common to units at all
levels (SS 4-5), he defines organizations as systems which give
primacy to goal attainment (ASQ 64). Once again, such goal
orientation exists not only for the individual roles constituting an
organization (at least, diis is true of formal role prescriptions), but
also—though we get onto moreground here—it is true
controversial
and of the system, such as the
of the organization taken as a unit,
educational system or the economy to which the organization
belongs (though here it is more appropriate to speak of the per-
formance of a function rather than to reify and speak of seeldng
a goal),*
Finally, organizations, more than other kinds have
of aggregates,
explicit mechanisms problems of how to main-
for solving the twin
tain dieir identity vis-^-vis their environment, maintaining whatever
patterns of internal relationships they have established, while at
the same time obtaining from die environment die support they
need for survival.
According to Parsons, the central task of the social sciences is

* A. W. Gouldner has drawn attention

to the fact that this distinction,
which is very much of a difference, is
slighted in this part of Parsons’
work. See his “Organizational Analysis,” in Robert K. Merton, Leonard
Broom and Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr., eds., Sociologtj Today: Problems
and Prospects (New York: Basic Books, 1959), Chapter 18 pd
4nn-0R ^ rr* >
216 • Henry A. Landsberger

the formulation of a single theory applicable, after appropriate

specification, to all kinds of social systems.
Such a theory would
show (a) how individually motivated units of such systems can
attain their private ends while (b) simultaneously furtliering the
collective (i.e., tire system’s) end, (c) maintaining stable relation-
ships vath other units,
and (d) remaining integrated botli witirin
themselves and with higher and lower level units. As has been
pointed out, formal organizations face these problems. Since
they have been subjected to study, one would expect Parsons to
look to students of organization to provide him witli data, and with
tlieories, so readily transmutable into his conceptual scheme as
to make it apparent tlrat his framework does, indeed, fit the exist-

ing state of knowledge in this field even though it was not specifi-
cally designed to do so. Tliis, after all, is the true test of a general
theory, and Parsons might be expected to use existing research
findings to prove his claim of generality.
Parsons has not done tlie expected. He has admittedly attempted
to apply his general scheme to organizations. But he has done so
neitlier very extensively, nor very systematically. Nor has he based
his writings on an explicit examination of the work of others in
an attempt to show point-by-point congruence with his own ideas.
As for extent, Parsons dealt thoroughly with organizations for
the first time in 1956, in two relatively short articles in the Adminis-
trative Science Quarterly (ASQ).* He has followed tliese wth two
further contributions, one of which in particular is a substantial
elaboration of his earlier statement.!
As for being systematic, Parsons discusses extensively in his

other works, yet mentions only briefly in his two main articles, three

“ Talcott Parsons, "Suggestions for a Sociological Approach to tlic

Theoi^' of Organizations," Administrative Science Quarterhj, Vol. 1,
Nos. 1 and 2, June, September 1956, pp. 63-85 and 224-39.
J Talcott Parsons, “The Mental Hospital as a Type of
Orgiinizaljon,
in Milton Greenblatt, Daniel Levinson, and Richard H. Williams, eds..
The Patient and the Mental Hospital (Glencoe, 111.; Free Press, 1957),
Chapter 7, pp. 109-29; and “Some Ingredients of a General Tlicor)’
of Formal Organization,” in Andrew W. Halpin, ed., pp. 40-72 in
Administrative Theory in Education (Midwest Administrative Center,
University of Chicago, 195S), Chapter HI, pp. 40-72,
PAHSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 217

concepts which he regaids as intimately related to the concept

of

organization. These are the concepts of the occupational sijstem

(WP 254-64; as well as scattered references, some of considerable

length, in FSI, SS, and ES); the contract; and the labor market
(for the latter two, see particularly ES 114-122; 144 ef seq.; 175
etseq.). In addition, all his concepts, being part of a general theory,
should by definition be relevant to organizations.
Finally, Parsons’ writings, in this as in other fields,do not take
the form of an comparison
explicit of his formulations with existing

ones. Parsons seems well acquainted with at least some of the key
problems and controversies in organization tlieory, though there are
indications that his knowledge of the field is neither exliaustive nor
.systematic. has certainly put forward some provocative ideas
He
about the few problems which he has discussed in detail.

The Relevance of Parsons’ Work to Organization Theory

The student of organization should in his turn look eagerly to

Parsons. He should be interested to see whether Parsons’ general
theory contains solutions to theoretical (or, for that matter, prac-
tical)problems which have not been solved in the field of organiza-
tion theory, but which have been solved, mtitatis mutandis, in
other special fields. For example: does Parsons’ theory of the divi-
sion of leadersliip into “external task” and "internal integrative”
functions, based on his studies of the family and of small groups,
really tell us anything we did not know about leadership in complex
organizations? Do his
dieories at least correspond to existing knowl-
edge in die which would be achievement enough?
field,

If Parsons on his side has not gone out of his way to forge strong
links with organization dieorists, have the latter at least tried

to meet him halfway? Surprising though it may seem, since Parsons

is, all, not primarily an organization theorist, his influence has
after
been noticeable and is growing. His ideas have been used most by
the youngest areas of research: research into hospital and educa-
tional organizations-perhaps because no established theoretical posi-
tions existed here. Thus, he is the audior most frequendy cited in
218 • Henry A. Landsberger

the index to a collection of studies on the role of the school super-

intendent." Similarly, the summary essay in a recent volume of
readings dealing with the patient-mental hospital relationship con-
cludes that Parsons’ theory of action mediates best between the
wide range of concepts from sociological to psychoanalytic theory
which it is necessary to employ in order to understand this field.f
Parsons is not,however, referred to favorably in any other contribu-
tion to this volume except Iris own.
Studies in the more established areas of research—into industrial
and governmental organization—have made less use of his rvritings.
There is, moreover, no major study devoted wholly to a test of his
theory, in the manner in which entire studies have been designed
to substantiate or refute Max Weber. Typically, those writers who
have used Parsons at all will make references to only a limited
number of his concepts. His definitions of role and role conflict,
and his pattern variables— especially the universalism—particular-
ism distinction—have been the most popular.^ This kind of selective
use of liis concepts is growing even in industrial research. The find-
ings of a recent, very specialized study in psycholinguistics, appear-
ing in as surprising a home for general sociological theory as the
Journal of A'p^lied Psychology, were interpreted as confirming in
an industrial setting that dual function theory of leadership to

which I referred earlier.§

However unsystematic and scattered they may be, therefore, the

hnks between Parsons’ work and the work of others in the field of
organization theory are gro\ving stronger. It is the purpose of this
paper to examine Parsons’ work in order to evaluate, more compre-
hensively, tlie nature of his potential contribution to the study of
organizations.

* Neal Gross, Ward S. Mason and Alexander W. McEaehum, Explora-

tions in Role Analysis (New
York: John Wiley and Sons, 1958).
Greenblatt
J Richard H. Williams, “Implications for Theory,” in
et al., op. cit., Ghapter 37, pp. 620-32.

I See, for example, Peter M. Blau, Dynamics of Bureaucracy

(Gliicago: University of Cliicago Press, 1955).
of Thought of Managers, Clerks,
§ Harry G. Triandis, “Categories
and Workers about Jobs and People in an Industry," Journal of Ap-
plied Psychology, 43:338-43 (October 1959).
parson’s’ toeory of organizations • 219

ORGANIZATIONS AS SOCIAL SYSTEMS

System. Problems and Pattern Variables

To understand and description of organiza-

Parsons’ definition
tions, and llie special place they occupy in his general analysis of
social systems, it is necessary to review briefly liis two sets of
basic concepts— the four system problems and tlie five bi-polar
pairs of pattern variables. A. more diorough treatment will be found
in the earlier papers in tins volume, particularly tliose by Devereux
and by Morse.
The system problems are, it will be recalled, those of Adaptation,
Goal Attainment, Integration, and Latency, tlie latter also referred
to ns Tension Management and Pattern Maintenance. [Link]
efforts to resolve one problem, according to Parsons, intensifies one
of the Ollier problems. Resolving adaptation problems increases
problems of integration (and vice versa); goal attainment inten-
sifies the problem of general pattern maintenance; and there is a

more general antagonism between tlie resolution of A and G (task

or instrumental) problems on die one hand, and die I and L prob-
lems (social-emotional or [Link]) on die other. In a decision-
making group, for [Link], when its members cooperate in the
task problems of gathering and digesting information (A) prior
to making a decision (die group’s goal— G), diey udll strain their
personal relations to each other (I), and temporarily prevent indi-
wdual members from fulfilhng odier needs and obligations (L
problem).
The pattern I'ariables which describe the different kinds of rela-
tionships during each of these problem-solving phases mirror the
dilemmas in die phases diemselves. 'Tlie adaptive phase requires
that persons do not attempt to use their relationship for gratifica-
tion but to further die distant goal (neutrality); diat they treat
others on the basis of what they can contribute (performance);
that they restrict their relationship to others to the narrow front
demanded by matters of “business” (specificit)');
and that they
ignore the particular relation in wliich a person stands to them
outside the "task” setting ([Link]‘sm). Social integration,
on the
220 • Henry A. Landsherger

otlierhand, requires relationships to be structured in the opposite

way, emphasizing a different value system: affectivity—
by definition,
die relationship during integration should be enjoyed per se;
quality— tlie group needs to value its members simply because they
are members, not only for what tliey can do; diffuseness— during
integration, a wider range of tlie personality becomes involved than
during ‘^business,” when only limited skills are drawm upon; and
particularism—persons are valued because tliey are members of
ego’s group.
The fifth pattern variable (collectivity vs. self-orientation) is

qualitatively differentfrom the other four. It represents a scale for

measuring the extent to which the unit (the role in a small group;
the small group in the larger aggregate to which it belongs) acts
or should act on behalf of the superordinate system. If the uni-
versity professor is expected to be guided explicitly by what is
good for his department as well as by what is helpful to his role
specifically, the role of professor is collectivity oriented. If the
department chairman is expected to fight for his department only,

and the interests of the university as a whole be defended by

let
dean, provost or president, tire role of departmental chairman is
self oriented—the “self,” at tlris level, being tlie department, not
the role and certainly not tlie individual. Once it has been estab-

lished on behalf of which system ( i.e., at what level, its own or the
next higher one) a unit is really acting, its relationship to its role

partner can be analyzed in terms of the other four pattern variables.

Certain characteristics of these concepts, and of the way in

which Parsons uses them, should be briefly noted. First, he sees the
all systems, but also as being dimen-
four problems not only as facing
sions which can be used to describe the relationships (“boundary
processes”) between systems and betvs'^een sub-systems of a system.
As we shall see, the occupational contract through which organiza-
tions obtain most of their human resources, has components that
are adaptive, integrative, and so on, each of which really covers a
separate subcontract. Moreover, there is some tendency for the
solution of the four problems to be attempted in a temporal
•

sequence. At one time the solution of one problem is emphasized

more than it is at all other times, then the next one, and so forth,
until the first problem recurs. Hence the system problems and the
PAKSONS' THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS • 221

pattern variables associated with them are characteristic of

sjpecific

temporal stages. Further, to deal with these problems. Parsons be-

lieves that systems develop sub-structures each of which specializes
in the solution of one of them ( but which in turn has four sectors ) It
.

is particularly important for an understanding of Parsons

treat-

ment of organizations to understand that he sees one system as

having sub -systems, and as itself being the sub -system of the next
higher system, greatly influenced by its functional contribution to
the higher system, and the function of the higher system itself.
The system problems exert, therefore, not only a temporal influ-
ence, but also a major influence on the structural differentiations
of a system at any given point in time, and on the flows across its
boundaries to other systems: higher, lower or at the same level.
The pattern variables are likewise used not only to describe and
categorize existing relationships, but also to describe the norms
governing relationships and hence the types of deviance which
may occur. They describe four basic motives, and hence the incen-
tives and sanctions which can be used to control personalities.
The reader's sense of having placed before him a completely
integrated theoretical system to cover all levels of society and all
its activities is, of course, greatly enhanced by the use of this

standard terminology. While details of definition and of termi-

nological usage are changed (often without adequate notice to
the reader) Parsons' underlying ideas have remained constant.
Parsons would, of course, claim that die dieoretical integration he
has achieved is based on the discovery and elucidation of genuine
underlying uniformity of process and problem, and not on a mere
teiminological Gleichschaltung.

Organization and Collectivity Orientation

Parsons uses both die pattern variables and the four system
problems to define organizations. The fit is at times not very good
and one wonders whether, contrary to the nature of the material
with which he is dealing, Parsons was forced or lured into the use
of tliese concepts in order to maintain his claim that
they are
suitable for all purposes. However, there is often also
a highly
suggestive kernel hidden in what appears otherwise as a
somewhat
222 • Henry A. Landsberger

forced set of ideas. This is well illustrated by the use he makes of

one of the pattern variables-self- vs. collectivity-orientation-in
defining organizations.
In his earlier writings (i.e., in the Social System and in Toward a
General Theory of Action) Parsons defined organizations as one
kind of “collectivity ready to act in concert to achieve a goal,”
“Qemeinschaft” being the other kind. By this definition, an organi-
zation had an exceptionally high degree of collectivity orientation
and “sohdarity.” The lowest degree (apart from undefined role
“intermeshing”) was “role integration” where— as in tire case of
buyers and sellers in a free market— each role partner merely knows
what the behardor of the otlier means. The next higher level is a
“collectivity,” defined as a role system in which members regard
certain actions as required in the interest of the integrity and
continuity of the system, engaging in these activities regardless of
the immediate self-interests of the role. This, of course, fits with
the idea of collectivity orientation on tlie part of a role—the role
takes on responsibihty for the continuity of the system. Next come
collectivitiesready to act in concert to achieve a goal which is
shared (i.e., widely held) and collective (i.e., “gratifying to .mem-
bers otlier than, but including, tlie actor,” GTA 192). An organi-
zation is one variant of such a collectivity-ready-to-act-in-concert:
where the goal is the result of the collectivity’s action, not inherent
in the action, as is the case with the other variant, a '‘Gemeinschaft”
A group of amateur folk dancers are a “Gemeinschaft” because
their goal is the activity of dancing itself. Their most important
activities are of tlie L and I kind, i.e., they 'are biased in the
“expressive” direction. On the otlier hand, a group dedicated, to
nuclear disarmament would be an organization, since its most
important activities are of the A and G variety (it is biased in the
“instrumental” direction) and its goal is merely the result of these
activities, not inherent in them. Schools, too, are organizations,
since tlieir goal is the socialized individual, not tlie educational
process per se; and collectivities in the economic (i.e., adaptive)
sector of society are par excellence likely to be “organizations” by
virtue of their position in a sector in which the goal is the produc-
tion of facilities for goal achievement elsewhere.
Parsons describes both organizations and Gemeinschaften as
PABSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 223

emphasizing goals in eyes of their member-units. But he

tiie

regards only organizations as being biased in the goal attainment

(or,- more broadly, instrumental) direction. This paradox is resolved

tlirough taking account of Parsons’ system-within-system-within-

system manner of thinking. The definition of the concept “goal
attainment,” and hence of organization, is basically not descriptive
of the motivation of the lower units, but is in terms of the system
superordinate to the organization. Parsons’ definition highlights the
point that, in a purely functional analysis of society, it is irrelevant
that members a group devoted to nuclear disarmament
of, e.g.,

might enjoy being together (I), or even that its members .may get
satisfaction from instrumental activities such as obtaining signa-
tures. The significance to society is the effect which the group’s
ultimate product—pressure—has on other systems. To be classed
as an organization, a group merely needs to act “as if’ it were
goal oriented, by actually affecting another system,
Plffiile such functional analysis is, in itself, acceptable and useful,

it is insufficient as an explanation of such well concerted activities.

It poses an obvious next question: for whom is the organization’s
goal a motivational goal?The answer to this question has ideo-
logical overtones. On
one side are the social critics, who believe
that many organizations serve the ends of tlie small elite who
control these organizations and possibly society at large. Critics
feel that the very phrase “the goals of the organization,” or any
reference to the social utility of an organization’s product, glosses
over tlie fact of self-serving by a power elite. On the other side
are those who believe that cooperation for a common goal is, or
at least could be, more than a slogan for all members of an
organization. The rise of labor unions in the economic sector, sym-
bolizing that goals are not fully shared throughout these organiza-
has made die answer to the question, Whose goals?
tions at least,
even more intriguing.
Parsons’ position
on this critical issue is ambiguous, despite the
fact that he
well aware of the inadequacies of functional ex'plana-
is

tions. At times he seems to be sidestepping the controversy

about
individual motivation by asserting that he is not describing what
exists, but describing logical possibilities and logically pure cases
%vithin his set of concepts, or that he is describing roles, not flesh
224 • Henry A, Landsberger

and blood individuals, in a smoothly functioning model. Logically,

certainly, tliere is tlie possibility of a collectivity oriented set of
rolesengaged in instrumental activity in pursuit of a goal which is
“shared” and “collective.”
Parsons’ later formulations make it clear, however, that he uses
intense collectivity orientation as more than just a defining char-
He uses it as an explanatory
acteristic of a logically possible entity.
concept and to describe what actually exists in the eyes of members
of the organization. Thus, Parsons explains that centralized deci-
sion-making by leaders of organizations is legitimized in the eyes
of followers:

... by the expectation that management will be competent and

tliatthere wall be an identity of interest between management
and other employees in giving management the power it needs
to do the job effectively subject to fair treatment of employees.
(ASQ 234-5)

This astonishing description of the employee’s state of mind is

made more cre^ble by Parsons’ explanation that the coincidence

is neither spontaneous nor due to managerial good will, but

... is controlled externally, by competition wth other

first

firms, so tlrat presumably an management would not

ineffective
be able to continue in business, and secondly by the free labor
market to the extent that its employees are free to quit and
seek otlier employment. (ASQ 235)

Tins statement, while more acceptable, hardly portrays a situation

marked by genuine collectivity orientation, thereby raising a ques-
tion as to how fuzzy tlte concept still is. The above quotation means,
in effect, that workers, through tlie use of “self-oiiented” market
mechanisms such as quitting, can limit the extent to which manage-
ment dare go against workers’ interests. Under tliese protective
conditions, they are xxdlHng to take specific management decisions
on trust. Clearly, this power of control disappears in a market where
labor is surplus, and the coincidence of interests between manage-
ment and labor will shrink correspondingly, leaving the existence
of organizations once more unexplainable in terms of collectivity
orientation.
3?AKS0NS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS • 225

Parsons also uses tlie concept in what appears to be a tliird, in-

between sense, postulating collectivity orientation, or a minimal

amount of it, as a prerequisite if certain groups are to be in equilib-
rium and survive. In tins mood, discussing equilibrium and stabil-
ity in general, Parsons wll state tirat the concept of equilibrium is
not to be used as “an empirical generalization.” (SS 481) He also
makes an important distinction between role prescriptions and the
individual’s actual motivation. He asserts that for a collectiwty
merely to survive, certain roles must value collectivity orientation
and there must be a degree of coincidence “of a set of common
value patterns with the internalized need-disposition structure of
the constituent personalities,” (SS 42) Talking specifically about
organizations, he refers repeatedly to the likelihood of friction
between personality on the one hand and role requirements on
the other, (e.g., ES 177) He deems it unlikely that organizations
can set up mechanisms which udll successfully counter (let alone
prevent) “an inherent centrifugal tendency deriving from the
. , .

personalities of the participants, from tlie social adaptive [Link]

of their particular job situations; and possibly from other sources.”
(ASQ 79) It is in this more realistic mood, too, that he appreciates
that it is psychologically very difficult for employees to comply with
the edicts of far removed leaders. (SS 279-80) This motivational
vacumn is filled by the growth of informal role expectations, leading
to role conflict witli formal role expectations. This insight and its
conceptualization is in line witli some of the most recent research
on the subject of informal organization.® It is, unfortunately for
Parsons, only loosely connected to his main conceptual scheme.
The between these statements stressing tlie unlike-
contradictions
liliood of deeply felt collectivity orientation and previous statements
asserting the coincidence of management and employee interests,
exemplify a general tendency by Parsons to glide, imperceptibly,
from -the description of a possible model and a definition of its
various parts to statements concerning conditions and relationships
necessary and existing if a certain system is to be stable and then
to assertions about phenomena and their relationships as they

® Melville Dalton,
Men Who Manage (New York: Tolin Wiley
' and
Sons, 1959).
226 • Henry A. Landsberger

actually exist. Parsons’ statements become more suggestive and

more acceptable if the reader is clear within which of these three
possible levels of discourse Parsons is moving at any one time.
Most of Parsons’ statements seem to fall in the middle category,
postulating conditions which need to exist to a greater or lesser
extent if a social system is to continue in being.
The idea of collectivity orientation, for example, makes more
sense and becomes an exciting idea for research if it is not taken
as describing relationships between members in all existing organi-
zations. Instead, it should be regarded as conditional, and hence
quantitatively related to the greater or lesser success of organiza-
tions. Or one might tliink of a minimal amount of collectivity orien-
tation as required for their survival. Fouriezos, Hutt,
and Guetzkow,"
observing decision-making groups in government and industr)% have
indeed found a negative correlation between group productivity
and average level of self-orientation. They are impressed with the
importance of and collectivity-orientation as a causal variable
self-

of goal attainment, and plead that more research be done on tliis

concept, difficult though it is in practice to operationalize it.
Parsons believes that managers in particular need to be col-
lectiwty oriented, both because they are responsible for the organi-
zation as a whole, and because employees’ perception of die extent
of management’s collectivity orientation affects their readiness to
obey. Ironically, one of Parsons’ severest critics, G. Wright Mills,
quotes Werner Sombart, Walter Rathenau, and others to support
his contendon that managers are in fact collectivity oriented to a
degree that makes it seem as if organizations had motives of their
own.f But there is only one empirical study, Dalton’s, linking die
degree of management’s collectivity orientation to organizational
success (Dalton maintains that there is a negative correlation!).
No studies have linked the degree of management’s collectivity
orientation to subordinates’ obedience: a hypothesis which makes

“ Nicholas T. Fouriezos, Max L. Hutt, and Harold Guetzkow, “Self-

Oriented Needs in Discusson Groups,” in Dorwin Garhvright and
Alvin Zander, eds.. Group Dynamics: Research and Theory (Evanston,
111.; Row, Peterson and Go., 1953), Ghapter 24, pp.
354-60.

f C. Wright Mills, White

Collar; The American Middle Classes (New
York: Oxford University Press, Galaxy Books, 1956), pp. 107-8.
parsons’ 'THEORy OF ORGANIZATIONS * 2317

a great deal of sense for organizations not in the economic sector

(as Parsons realizes). No studies exist on whether, as Parsons
believes, collectivity orientation is less important for some roles
than for others: e.g., roles which represent the organization in its

dealings with the environment. Is collectivity orientation more im-

portant in some organizations and in some situations than in others?
Are organizations less successful in cultures which do not value
collectivity orientation in organizational settings?"Vidiat makes

organizations, as units, more or less collectivity oriented, taking

responsibility for the solution of problems facing tlie system as a
whole? Concretely—under what circumstances will universities re-
frain from competing for graduate students, since it serves dieir
own ends without adding to the product of the educational system
as a whole? All tliese questions would profit from investigation.
Parsons’ pattern variable has tlie merit of raising them and of
drawing attention to the possibility of underlying similarities, de-
spite the tremendous difEerence in levels of social analysis and in
the contexts of different organizations.
One final point concerning those instances in which Parsons is at
tlie level of describing what exists. The precarious balance which

he sees between social requirements and actual motivation, and

between tlie requirements of existing systems and those of emerg-
ing systems, are applied not only to organizations, but also to society
at large. In this more realistic mood, Parsons seems fully aware of the
role which [Link] elites may play in causing revolutions through
an attempt to preserve an existing system intact. (SS 520) The
fact tliat he deliberately disassociates himself from a “predominant
factor theory” (i.e., economic theory) of social change (GTA 232-3)
should not mislead one into accusing Parsons of being oblivious to
the existence of powerful forces and groups xvitliin society which
continually modify it in a more or less drastic manner.

The Structure of Organizations and the Four System Problems

Parsons’ most substantial foray into organization theory is an

attempt to refonnulate it in terms of his four system problems.
The latency problem (L) concerns, as we would expect, the
integration of the organization ivith higher order patterns of cul-
228 • Henry A. Landsherger

ture values. Tliis achieved, most importantly, through interpret-

is

ing the particular goal of the organization (for example, production

of roller bearings, or education in modern languages) as being
congruent with some value of die next larger social system. Culture
for a lower system consists, then, among other ingredients, of the
values of tlie next higher system. Tliis constitutes “the legitimation
of [tlie organization’s] place or role’ in the superordinate system”
(ASQ 68). Such legitimation helps in the internal running of the
organization. It also enables the organization, when faced widi
outside pressures, to assert the primacy of its goal over other
possible goals. For example, an educational organization can assert
the primacy of producing educated citizens over creating good ivill
in the community (I) and over die production of facihties and the
making of a profit (A). Functions cannot be accomplished (it will

be more diflBcult to “produce” die goal) unless culture values

recognize the goal to be a legitimate one.
one diinks of economic organizations only, the importance of
If
such legitimation is not great, since economic organizations obtain

most of their resources through funds obtained from die sale of

their product. But failure to have an accepted goal can break an
organization which is not in the economic sector. Mental health
organizations, shunned in many communities, are short both of
financial support and of the more diffuse nonfinancial support ( e.g.,
volunteers, members) which is just as important to tiiem. Heart
associations have fewer troubles. The success with which L prob-
lems are solved therefore affects the solution of other organization

problems— obtaining resources (A), designing an effective (G) and

cohesive (I) internal structure. This is reflected in die fact that
each of these three sectors in turn have dieir own L sub-sectors, as
we shall see.
Theadaptive problems of the organization (A) concern its ef-
forts at die “mobilization of resources,” die acquisition of resources
from the environment. These resources are the traditional four
factors of production: capital (Aa), labor (Ag), entrepreneurship-
organizing abihty (Ai), and “land” (Al).
These resources are chiefly obtained through contracts. Since
contracts are indicative of how, in general, Parsons handles flows
between systems, we shall examine one of them —that for labor
PABSONS' raEOKY OF ORGANIZATIONS
* 229

at lengtli in the final section of tiiis paper. Here we will briefly

look at tlie one resource—Al, input on value grounds—which by

its

nature is not itself a resource contracted for, and operates through

its effect on the ease or difficulty with which contracts
for otlier

resources can be made. As expected. Parsons links the A1 sub-sector

with the organizations larger L (value) sector, and thereby again
The A1 resources are tlierefore those which
witii larger social values.
are committed to the organization on basic value grounds; they do
not have to be rewarded in tlie short run in order to be retained.
Economists have for long recognized that certain resources are
'committed"* to a sphere of production in tlie sense of tlieir being
immobile and unable to gain a comparable income elsewhere. Good
land has typically been regarded as of this kind. High rent is paid
for it because it is productive and hence farmers compete for it—
but the leaser could be forced to accept a far lower rent because
there may be nothing else for which he can use his land. Economists
have recognized that resources other flian land— e.g., labor—may be
similarly immobile, and may therefore be earning a "quasi-rent.’"
It seems that Parsons has broadened and changed this concept

even further, first by including also services which are not rewarded
by the payment and by looking at social values, not
of quasi-rent,
only immobility, as the cause of commitment. For convenience,
economists confine their considerations to exchanges and flows in
wliich money is involved—hence tlie domestic work of wives is
excluded from calculations of the gross national product. From a
social point of view, a productive contribution remains such whether
or not it is financially rewarded. Parsons refuses to be bound by
an arbitrary dividing line—with some attendant disadvantages, of
course.
Parsons has also broadened the concept of commitment by
seeing it as operative at all levels: society as a whole, tlie level
of social sub-sectors, and that of the organization. Thus, at the
level of the U. S. economy as a whole, labor may have a higher
motivational commitment to work on value grounds (the phenome-
non of the Protestant ethic) than is the case in other societies which
do not have this skewing of values in the adaptive direction. On
the otlier hand, the U. S, may have at its disposal less motivational
commitment to teach than other societies (partly because of lesser
230 • Henry A. Landsberger

basic commitment to L values). These are interesting ways to thfnV

about frequently mentioned differences in cultural values, and of
integrating them conceptually with otlier factors of production.
There is a counterpart of this value commitment even at the level
at which we are talking—that of the organization. It, too, may have
at its disposal labor loyalties (faithful employees), entrepreneurs,
and capital, for which it need not pay in the short run.
The Goal-attainment sector (G) of the organization is called by
Parsons “The Mechanism of Implementation.” It will be remem-
bered tliat tlie G sector of society is the power sector. So also is

the G sector oforganization—the power to mobilize resources

tire

for goal attainment. The Gg sector concerns major “PoHcy Deci-

sions” about how die goal is to be attained—the nature and quality
of the product, change in scale of operations, and “organization-
Mude problems of modes of internal operation.” This type of deci-
sion is a veiy serious one and commits tlie organization. Selznick
has called the making of this kind of decision “leadership,” point-
ing out that over and beyond routine administration, decisions about
the character of the organization and the internal distribution of
power need to be made if the organization’s purpose is to be ful-
filled.”

The Ga sector (“Allocative Decisions”) concerns lower level

decisions of allocating responsibilities and financial resources among
personnel. This is Selznick’s “administration.” Parsons’ scheme makes
automatic provisions for a distinction which is fruitful,but which
very few writers have made.
The Gi sector (“Coordinating Decisions”) deal particularly with
personnel who, unlike financial resources, have to be motivated and
hence make the coordination of activities difficult. The means for

accomplishing coordination are penalties (coercion), rewards (in-

ducement), and “therapy.” The latter is defined as operating
directly to change tlie motivations of individuals rather than taking
them for granted and offering eitlier rewards or penalties.
The Gl sector again involves values: tlie values covering, legiti-

^Philip Selznick, Leadership in Administration (Evanston, IlL: Row,

Peterson and Co., 1957).
parsons’ theory of organizations • 231

mating, “authorizing” the measures and decisions involved in the

other three sub-areas of G.
By definition, the organization is a social system emphasizing its

own G sector, signifying tliat the nature of its goal greatly affects
sectors— more so, presumably, than they do it.
its otlier

The I sector, as Parsons discusses it in the Administrative Science

Quarterly (p. -80 ff), concerns “the mechanisms by which the or-
ganization is integrated with other organizations and other types of
collectivify in tlie total social system.” Here, Parsons clearly acci-
dentally moved up one of his own levels: “I” should refer to the
integration of tlie system within itself, not to the integration of the
system with other systems (which is the I problem for the next
higher level). Parsons does deal with internal integration, but, as
we have seen, under the heading of Gi.
Tiie problems he rapidly lists under the “I” heading are, boivcver,
interesting ones. In the la sector are worked out the problems that
arisebecause resources have to fulfill their other role obligations.
For example, only if employees are limited to, let us say, eight
hours of work for the organization can they— and, therefore, ulti-

mately, the organization— remain integrated with the family. The

Ig sector deals with limitations on power and authority so as to
retain congruence with outside obligations; and li deals Avith the
integration of the organization’s integrative rules— i.e., the fact
that there are certain rules which are general throughout society.
They therefore integrate the organization with the rest of society.
An example is tlie general prohibition against the use of force
against the person. Neitlier contract nor autliorization can abrogate
these general rules.
An evaluation of this scheme Avould have to list two deficiencies,
and one major point of attraction. On the negative side, this
attempted application of the four system problems brings out force-
fully how ambiguously one concept is tied to another and to its
empirical referent. It is not in all cases clear to me how tlie con-
cejits Tioundaries,’ “flows,” “sectors,” and “sub-sectors” are related
to each other, nor how functional sectors of society are
related to
the concrete organizations through which, the functions
are ful-
filled. Do. all the resources needed by a system come in through
the A sector and its boundaries even though they end up elsewhere
232 • Henry A. Landsherger

in the system? It would seem so from Parsons’ analysis of organiza-

tions. Yet in Economy and Society, the I sector of the economy
obtains some of its resources directly from the I sector of society
(ES 68, Fig. 4).
As for the actual four system problems, I am not convinced that
some of them may not need to be merged and others added. Parsons
has on occasion linked A and G togedier, avoiding the need to make
a distinction between them. Since organizations are admittedly goal-
oriented, but since one tends to think of tlie ideal type as being
governed by A values (neutrality, universaHsm, specificity and per-
formance), merging the two sectors would remove tlie need for
deciding whether organizations are A or G biased. In any case,
there seems to be some lack of clarity here.
The case of the entrepreneur may be cited as anotlier example of
lack of precision in the empirical referent of a concept. In Economy
and Society Parsons saw the entrepreneur as contributing integra-
tive ability to the economy. Yet in Parsons’ discussion of organiza-
tions, the kinds of activities in which, certainly, executives engage
—making policy decisions, allocating budgets and responsibilities—
are placed in the G sector, which one would have expected to be
devoted to problems of financing, since Parsons regards finance as
an important form of power, and power supposedly belongs in the
G sector. Nor does tlie organization’s integrative sector, as we saw
Parsons describe it or as conceived in any other way, seem to be
the field for tlie kinds of integration of capital and labor which
Parsons originally had in mind when talking about entrepreneurs.
The reader should be warned, however, tliat even if unnecessary
vagueness were removed, many of these concepts would still not
correspond to the kinds of sub^visions of organization ivith which
he is familiar—sales, production, accounting, and tlie like. There
obviously is no concrete latency sector nor a concrete latency activ-

ity or flow validating an organization’s goal or its operative roles

against the larger goals and rules of society. The personnel depart-
ment does have substantial responsibility for acquiring labor re-
sources, but it more, while on the other hand the commit-
also does
ment of labor on value grounds is beyond its scope. For tlie most
part, Parsons’ concepts are anal)i:ical features which can be used
in a liighly partial description and interpretation of a variety of
parsons’ XIIEOKY of OBGAJnZATlONS
• 233

actual occurrences. In itself, this analytical abstractive character

is not at all unscientifio-quite die contrary’. It is unusual and strange

in a field in which much of the Aroitiug is in the form of descrip-

tions of total events with relatively little abstraction.

The second criticism of the scheme, apart from its vagueness, is

that it does not as yet constitute a set of hypotheses. Parsons him-

self is at one point fully aware of tliis:

It is extremely important to be dear that what we have pre-

sented .. is a paradigm and not a theory, in the usual sense
. .

of tire latter term as a system of laws. have had to . . . We

formulate the concepts of motivational process as mechanisms,
not as laws. (SS 485)

Parsons says this is due to paucity of knowledge of laws—but adds

that such knowledge was just enough to formulate tire mechanisms

(c.g., that hierarcliical distance between persons affects their motive

to obey each other). The systematic organization of the "mecha-

nisms” of which his work consists is, therefore, intended to sum-

marize knowledge to the e.\tent that we have it, and to "give us

canons for tlie significant statement of problems for research so that
knowledge of laws can be extended.” (SS 485)
The various sectors and sub-sectors are primarily systematically
arranged pigeonholes for the ordering of problems. An organiza-
tion’s product may be analyzed from the point of view of its

relation to society’s goals and values. One may even speak of the
organization s ha\dng a problem legitimating its product in terms of
larger social values. But these are not hypotheses. They lead, at
most, to statements about minimal conditions necessary for survival,
with no actual minima quantitatively specified. As in the case of
the need for collectivity orientation in organizations, where Parsons
at times believed tliat the minimally needed quantity was high, at
other times that it was low, similarly in other instances the reader

is not sine to what extent the various problems really do need to

be solved. He is not given predictive ly’potheses covering how and
under what conditions tliey will be solved. Parsons makes no
attempt to apply to organizations one of the few hypotheses built
into his scheme— the phase hypothesis. Tliis would
lead one to
predict certain changes in organizations over time. Very few
234 • Henry A. Landsberger

wnters mention tlie possibility of such systematic changes occurring

—and they are, like Selznick, among the very best in the .field.
Parsons unstated hypothesis is not a bad one, that organizations
will veer between efficiency (A and G) on the one hand, and the
stability and possible drag on efficiency signified by having a well
integrated organization with articulated values (I and L) on the
other.
Against the conceptual vagueness and the difficulty of deducing
hypotheses from Parsons’ scheme need to be put both its compre-
hensive nature and tlie fact that hypotheses can easily be stated
in terms of it and are at least suggested by it if not deducible
from it.
About comprehensiveness tlrere can be no question, nor about
its

the pedagogical value of such comprehensiveness for a field which

should never have become as fragmented as it is. No otlier field
in the behavioral sciences should cut more freely across disciplines
—particularly in order to integrate economics—than that of organi-
zation theory. No other field in the behavioral sciences needs to be
as urgently in contact both with the societal (macro-) level and
vritli that of the small group and tlie individual. Parsons’ problem

areas, if they do nothing else, imply an assertion that organization

theory is of this kind and that levels and disciplines cannot simply
be given separate boxes as “additional factors,” but need to be
seen as linked to each other, or as special cases of each other, or
positively fused together, as in the case of the labor contract and
the effects of social values on it. In tliree areas in particular. Parsons’

comprehensiveness brings togetlier approaches to organization

wliich should never have been separated.
First, unlike the writings of many other sociologists. Parsons does
not neglect traditional administrative “theory” as formulated by
Urwick and his followers.® This approach emphasizes that an organ-
ization could not be run witliout such processes as policy making,
organizing to execute the- policy, coordinating and controlling

activities, delegating tasks and authority, making provisions for

“ See, for example, “Notes on the Theory of Organization,” in L.

•
Gulick and L. Urwick, eds.. Papers on the Science of Administration
(New. York Institute of- Public Administration, Columbia Univ., 1937),
PABSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 235

communications, and so on. Parsons covers this .under the heading

“Ga.” The term “adaptation” may seem a little forced. But pre-
sumably-with some merit-it refers to die fact that the individuals
potential for relating himself to others is being adapted to the
organization’s purpose by being controlled and formalized, guided
as to when and when not to communicate, and so on.
Sociologists have for tlie most part ignored the formal aspects of
organization as objects of study for their own sake, as Gouldner
has recently pointed out."* This is surprising, since much sociological

work on organizations was inspired by Weber, who accented

heavily the bureaucracy’s need for precise definition and limitation
of duties, the allocation of these duties among “offices” (roles),
the hierarchical arrangement of roles and their subjection to imper-
sonal and hmited authority, and so on.f
From this starting point,however, the predominant movement
of sociologists has
-
been in an essentially psychological direction;
focusing on tlie interpersonal and intrapsycliic effects of organiza-
tional structure, on how informal organization has helped or
hindered formal organization, not on formal organization itself.
Investigations have dealt with die reasons for alliances and feuds
(neither- sanctionedby the formal organization structme) between
engineers and line officials in industrial plants;$ or with die
growth of a more formalized communication system out of the
temporary anxiety of new managers who do not know the informal
communication system.§
Under the heading of the Gi and Gl- sub-sectors and the contract
with which labor resources are acquired. Parsons’ scheme allows
for die study of these manifestations of -personality and of informal
organization. But these headings are a modest few among many
others, just as in reality they are. but one facet of die operation of

'Gouldner, "Organizational Analysis,” in Robert K. Merton, et al.}

op, cit.

f See H. H. Gerth and G. Wright Mills, prom Max Weber: Essays in

Sociology (London: Kegan, Paul, Trench and Trubner and Co.,
Ltd..
1947), pp. 196fF.
I AfelviUe Dfilton, ConiJict Between StafF- and Liine Managerial ’

American Sociological Review 15; 342-51 (June 1950 )T

OfBcers,**
§ Alvin W, Gouldner, Patterns of Industrial Bureaucracy, Free Press
’
Glencoe; lU., 1954. . .
236 • Henry A. Landsberger

an organization. Parsons accents not only the necessity for policy

decisions, allocation of budgets,and so on (traditional adminis-
trative theory, covered by the Gg and Ga sub-sectors) but,
in
particular, he accents the many bonds which the organization has
witli its environment.

on the internal structure of organizations

Stressing the influence
of (a) the environment within which it operates and (b) the
nature of its goal and that it has a goal to fulfill are the two other
merits of the comprehensiveness of Parsons’ approach to organiza-
tion [Link] reader is invariably stimulated to make suggestive
comparisons between organizations based on differences in total
cultural environment, the society’s sector to which the organiza-
tions belong, and the nature of iheir goal.
The need for an organization’s rules to conform in various ways
to environmental values has been studied all too little by soci-
ologists, making each of the few existing studies all the more
precious. Bendix’s suggestion that the built-in authoritarianism of
Weber’s image of the ideal type bureaucracy might be the most eflB-
cient way to run a bureaucracy in an authoritarian culture, but not
in an egahtarian one, is an early speculative venture into this field,
followed by Richardson’s empirical study, contrasting the greater
egahtarianism of American merchant ships with the greater social
distance between officers and men on British ships."* The conflict

between, on the one hand, the stress in Indian culture on the

family (latency) and hence on quality and particularism even in
acquiring labor resources for economic organizations, as contrasted
wi& an economic organization’s need to stress adaptive values
(universalism and performance) when acquiring resources is graph-
icallyportrayed in a recent work by the Tavistock Institute.! In
the American context, the need of a federal agency to adapt some
of its policies and goals to local values if it is to get the local
support it needs is brought out in Selznick’s TVA and the Grass

Reinhard Bendix, “Bureaucracy, the Problem and its Setting,’’ The

American Sociological Review, 12:493-507 (1947); and Stephen A.
Richardson, “Organizational Contrasts on British and American Ships.”
Administrative Science Quarterly 1:189-207 (September 1956).
t A. K. Rice, Productivity and
Social Organization; The Ahmedahad
Experiments (London: Davis Publications, Ltd., 1958).
paksons' theory of organizations • 237

Roots.*’ The reader will note that the first two studies cover the
effect of cultureon coordinating decisions (Gi); while die otlier
two cover the effect of culture on the acquisition of labor (Al) and
die determination of goals (Gg). Existing studies of organizations
can be fitted into Parsons’ categories with some ease.
Values are not the only way in which environment and organiza-
tion are related. Equally suggestive is Parsons’ emphasis on die
fact that all organizations have a "product,” that all need support
from die environment, and that economic organizations are an
extreme and limiting case in that they obtain such support almost
entirely through the sale of their product.
In his latest papers Parsons f has made diis comparative tend-
ency even more pronounced and systematic. He lists five forces

which, compounded, result in systematic differences between

organizations: (1) differences in level (whedier
one is studying
the high school— technical level— or the Office of Education—insti-
tutional level); (2) differences due to technology (differences
between school and factory due to technical differences in the
processes involved); (3) differences due to varying exigencies of
procuring and disposing of whatever the organization needs (a
church obtains different things, and obtains them in different ways,
from an economic organization); (4) differences due to location in
different functional sectors of society; (5) differences in “articula-
tion between levels”— thus, professional personnel are supervised
differently in tire military from the supervision they receive in
universities.
As an example of the effect on the recruitment of personnel of
tirerequirement to beep community support. Parsons suggests that
because mental hospitals depend for their success on an extreme
degree of public confidence, there will be a tendency to have
psychiatrists as top administrators— the post most “visible” to the
public-since the public has most respect for doctors. Unlike Wlryte,
I do not regard it as a serious deficiency that,
in fact, fewer

* Philip Selzniclc, TVA and the Gra,«

Roots; A
Study in the Sociology
of Formal Organizations (Berkeley; University of California Press
'
1949 ) .

t Parsons, “Some Ingredients of a General Theory of Formal Orsani-

zation,” in Halpin, op, cit ^
238 • Henry A. Landsberger

psychiatrists may be heads of mental hospitals than professors at

the head of universities. Parsons is necessarily confined, at any one

point, to talking about a single cause in a situation in which tliere

are otlier forces as well. Otlier tendencies in the situation, of an
opposite kind,—in the case of the mental hospital, the relative
greater scarcity of psychiatrists—may well overcome in the final
outcome tlie single tendency about which Parsons talks. This does
not mean tliat the tendency is absent.
The aspect of organization not adequately covered even by
Parsons’ comprehensive scheme is that of technology. Despite
repeated references to the fact that among the adaptive problems
of organizations are requirements to adapt to “technological exigen-
cies” and despite references to the effect on the organization of
the nature of its goal. Parsons’ tlieoretical system cannot system-

atically handle the influence of technology on organizational rela-

tionships. He gives examples of the influence of technological
“exigencies” on authority structure, but these are ad hoc
etc.,

insights and not deduced from his system. Altogetlier, he has little
interest in technical activities as such: ideally, they are routinized,
and become of interest to the administi'ator only “when sometliing
‘goes wrong.’” The effect of technology on human relations has
recently stimulated a good deal of research, tliough it is in my
opinion too early to state how important a variable technology is.

Nor would its importance ever preclude the simultaneous opera-

tion of the other Mnds which Parsons is interested.
of variables in
However, Parsons’ tlieory is here faced with the same difficulty as
are all sociological theories when attempting to integrate nonhuman
variables, whetlier tliey be technology, geography, or climate. Vari-
ables of this kind have first to be translated into social variables
before they can be systematically handled by a social tlieory, and
even then, tlieir incidence and strength is bound to be random and
unpredictable, however important their effect may actually be.

However much the four system problems and their sub-problems

may cover tliey do not allow very well for problems of this kind.
This particular deficiency highlights that the specialist in any
one of the social sciences will always have a legitimate doubt about
the utility of a “general theory.” By definition, a general tlieoiy is
designed more to show the equivalence between one field and
PABSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 239

another than to shed light on the problems unique to a single field;

It is in the latter that the specialist is likely to be interested: he
wonders whether it is worth his while to understand a theory which,
as Parsons clearly recognizes, “has involved bringing togedier con-
siderations from a variety of specialties in ways which the respective
specialists would seldom think appropriate or useful.” ^ ,

The Occupational Contract and System Interchanges

The occupational contract is the most important mechanism

through which social systems, and organizations in particular, solve
the two adaptive problems of obtaining labor and entrepreneur-
ship. In Parsons^ hands, tliis contract allows for a very complicated
set of exchanges; first, because a triangular relationship is involved
(the organization strikes a contract with the individuars person-
ality system as well as with the household system to which he
belongs) and second, because each of these two contracts has the
usual four sectors, of which the wage-service exchange is merely
one, namely the G component (Figure 11).
The other three exchanges are: (1) the “A” bargain, in which
die worker, both in his family role and as a personality, gives the
organization more or less right to intervene. He may adapt both
himself and his family to the exigencies of work in return for
“credit” in the form of greater or lesser assurance that he ^vill con-
tinue to hold liis job. The likelihood of an organization exercising
its right to hire and fire is therefore involved, and according to
Parsons, the worker’s job security literally affects liis credit standing
in the community. While Parsons liimself is probably not aware
of it, there is a paradoxical example of tliis relationship during

steel strikes, when local stores extend almost limitless credit to

knowing that they will ultimately return to the jobs await-
strikers,
ing them. There is a parallel between this A exchange and the A
exchange at the larger, societal level, in which the economy gets
credit (capital) in exchange for tlie right to intervene by those

Talcott Parsons, “General Theory in Sociology,” Ch. I,

pp. 3-38 in
Sociology Today: Problems and Prospects, Robert K. Merton, Leonard
Broom, and Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr., (eds.) Basic Books Inc., New
York, 1959, p, 36.
240 • Henry A. Landsherger

{Lq) (Ag)

Household Firm
/

G Labor Services Wages;

< ( Purchasing power)

A Rights to intervene; ^ Credit creation:

Attitude to authority in —< Credit standing: capital
organization: acceptance “making advances** to labor
of authority and executive
responsibility

I Influence; Contingent support:

Reputation as good Responsibility for household
employer welfare: fringe benefits

L Confidence: — Moral approval:

Defined in terms of Defined in terms of values
security of household- of economic rationality:
entrusted to the economy production for standard of
living

Figure 11. Labor market.

extending it. Both tlie household as a system and the personality

as a system will attempt to limit the extent to which they adapt
themselves to the occupational role and will seek some adaptation
on tlie part of tlie organization.
The kinds of intervention and adaptation which may be involved
are numerous. Included are such items as the extent to which the
breadwinner is expected to worry about his job while at home (an
intervention in tlie household), and tlie extent to which the organi-

zation allows him to bring his family worries to work.

A second exchange embodied in the contract is tire integrative
(I). Mutual support and loyalty and an exchange of prestige are
involved. As a personality, the worker gets prestige and therefore
PABSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 241

psychological support from his occupational role, while reflected

prestige, fringe benefits and security of employment are forms
of

diffuse support for the household. The worker in turn may give

loyalty and support to the organization. He adopts a more diffuse

responsibility for the job than specified by the wage-service ex-
change, as well as giving tire employing organization a good name
in the community. It wiU be remembered that the I sector is char-
acterized by the pattern variable of diffuseness among others.
Finally, the latency aspect of the contract concerns a mutual
recognition of each others’ values, tangibly expressed in the other
three areas. The worker and the household accept effective pro-
duction and being “a good worker” as a value while tlie organization
recognizes a moral obligation to pay good wages, to recognize
family responsibilities.
Because American values emphasize the A sector in general,
occupations—which are by definition adaptive—tend to get more
than they give. Parsons is aware of the tension to which this gives
rise for all personalities except those with high A (achievement)
motivation. The household, too, puts more into the contract than
itreceives. Families will be disrupted because occupational success
and acliievement are so important.
Trade unions are mechanisms wliich Parsons sees as preventing
or correcting at least some of the tensions created by the economy
and tlie occupational system. He sees the union as primarily con-
cerned not with the wage-service component of the contract, but
with the A component: the worker’s acceptance of authority and
discipline as a person, and his vnllingness to adapt family life to
the job. This is tlie sector which produces most tension (ES 148).
It is the regulation of the organization’s right to intervene in the
individual’s life that is the union’s prime function. In addition, it

has a considerable effect on the worker’s attitude to work and

himself (I and L). Tlirough protecting him, giving him greater
and the feeling of being respected and approved
self-confidence,
(L), the union helps workers accept general conditions of employ-
ment.
Emphasizing the union’s function in restricting the employer’s
right to intervene is perceptive. Restriction of management's
right
to fire and to discipline the individual at work,
ivith the chaos this
242 • Henry A. Landsberger

brings into the worker s has indeed been- a major goal for
life,

unions. Parsons spoils our appreciation of his acuteness, however,

by stating elsewhere tliat “it is notable that the growth of trade
unionism in the United States has been accompanied by relatively
little demand (ASQ 235) Since dis-
for managerial prerogatives.”
cipline clearly falls into the disputed area of managerial preroga-
a contradiction. It is likely, however, that Parsons was
tives, this is
comparing the United States with a phenomenon such as co-deter-
mination in Germany where unions actually participate in the
management process, and in this he
any case, it is
is correct. In
interesting that he is touch with the world to realize
suflBciently in
that he cannot afford to fail to comment on as important an institu-
tion as labor unions, and that his basic evaluation of them is a
positive one. His analysis, while not novel, would probably not be
rejected as basically wong by experts in labor relations. He allows
for tire strictly wage determination function of unions in straight
bargaining, conflict-of-interest, terms. But primarily he sees tirem as

a protection of workers in a situation where the worker, because

of his isolation and the moral approval given to industrial (adap-
is in a weak position. Witliout such protection, the
tive) acti\dties,
system would break down. This assessment of unions as a necessary
balancing mechanism contrasts favorably \wth the early writings
of the Mayo group—though Parsons has the advantage of some
twenty years of further history on which to draw.
The fourfold division of the contract, like the fourfold division
of organization problems and structures, is arbitrary in detail. Could
Parsons answer tlie many questions which spring to mind? Why,
for example, is security of employment mentioned twice— once in
the A sector, as giving credit specifically, and again in the integra-
tive sector, as giving diffuse support to the family? Is it because
any concrete item, such as security of emplo)ment, may analytically
have more than one kind of functional significance? This would be
acceptable logically; would be quite in line \vith Parsons’ general
modes of reasoning, and would resolve one or two other puzzles to
which I refer below.
Yet despite these and many other conceptual and operational
ambiguities, tliere is something .of considerable value in this
analysis of the employment contract.
pabsons’ theorv, of organizations • 243

In the first an interesting one tliat tliere are

place, the idea, is

really two employment contracts: one between organization and

household, another between organization and personahty. Though
it seems to complicate matters, it corresponds well to the psychology

of employment and its dilemmas: die choice, for example, between

a personally more satisfying job and one which allows a better
meeting of family responsibilities.® Parsons regards this link between
the economy and personality via the occupational contract as a
major theoretical contribution because “The paradigm for die con-
tract of employment is thus the main framework for the transition
between the sociological and die psychological analysis of indi-
vidual motivation in the occupational role,”
Parsons regards the entire idea of a contract, widi multiple di-
mensions along which exchanges can occur, as a fruitful way of
thinking about the relationship between, and the integration of, any
two systems or any two subsystems. For the occupational contract
not only integrates an individual household and an individual
organization, but through this process enables one to examine tiie
state of integration of the larger systems of wliich both are a part:
die economy as a whole, wth the whole of the latency sector
of society. Thus, t\vo systems of society, as well as various levels
within those systems, interpenetmte each odier via “the same con-
crete behavior process.”(ES 115, note I)
As a theory of wages, Parsons' ideas need tobe compared widi
the present. state of wage theory in sociology and economics. Both
aware that they need each odier. Neither, however,
disciplines are
has found way
to the other. Whyte’s Money and Motivation f
its

may be taken as an example, since it is the most outstanding socio-

logical effort in, die field of wages, yet ends with an unfulfilled
promise. His is a vivid description of individual and group reac-
tions to wages, particularly to incentive systems. Various readings
in this book stress that wages do not exhaust, what people eiqiect

” See, for example, Charles Walker

and .Robert H. Guest, The Man
on the Assembly Line (Cambridge,, Mass.: Harvard University Press
1952), •

i William F. Whyte, Money and Motivation;' An 'Analysis of Incen-

tives in Industry (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1955).
244 • Henry A. Landsberger

to get from a job: they like to control the pace of their work (in
Parsons’ terms: limit the right of others to intervene), and tliey ex-
pect to maintain prestige. Wages, being a “concrete item,” may stand
as much for prestige as for purchasing power. But die book stops
short of spelling out systematically what the worker seems to ex-
pect from his contract apart from wages as purchasing power.
Prestigeis mentioned, but is not conceptuahzed as a possible ele-

ment in an exchange. More importantly, neither Whyte nor others

have drawn attention to the fact that tlie organization, too, may ex-
pect more than specific performance of tasks.
Parsons realizes, of course, that the importance of these various
elements varies from occupation to occupation—indeed, his theory
is intended to allow for tliis kind of variation quite systematically.
Thus, the executive’s family is expected to adapt a great deal to
liis job—in return for wliich he has greater job security than a blue
collar worker. The executive is expected to take on a great deal of
diffuse responsibility, and liis high salary, according to Parsons,
symbolizes this ratlier than the value of his specific services. Tire
doctor gives the patient (his employer) no right to intervene but
expects tlie patient to adapt to him, and also to give him a great

deal of diffuse loyalty (no shopping around). In return, the doctor

renders his services for less payment than they are worth to the
employer (sHding scale for the poor). Organizations in the L sector
of society (e.g., educational institutions) are not on a money-for-
product basis as are organizations in the adaptive sector of society.

Hence, they cannot pay for their occupational roles in the form of

high wages. Instead, they give prestige and tenure.

Once again, the empirical assertions may not be fully accurate,

and the with the four system problems is arbitrary and iU de-
fit

fined in many instances. It is a matter of some doubt whetlier tlie

intellectual’s prestige is high: although one would not expect it
to

be very high, even using Parsons’ method of analysis, since Ameri-

can society But the assertion about the
stresses A, not L, values.

greater job security of executives is defim'tely open to query,

and
latest
Parsons liimself seems to have recognized this. In one of his
executive’s
statements he contradicts himself by saying that the
PABSONS’ THEORY OF ORGANIZATIONS * 245

Iiigh remuneration and low job security are symbolically significant

of the entrepreneur’s position as risk taker.®
Despite ambiguities, these categories are important ones. They
point to systematic comparisons between situations which had pre-
viously been tliought noncomparable, and the problem of making
tliem operational and subject to empirical investigation should not
be insurmountable. Such matters as the household’s receipt of
prestige, security, and approval are covered by items in existing
morale surveys, and diere are many other methods for getting at
them. Little has been done but much could be done by way of
asking employers whether tliey get what they think they are paying
for. The evaluation of tlie loyalty and responsibility of their work

force would make a great deal of sense to employers, who

spontaneously talk in these terms. I well remember a manager who
had moved from London to tlie North of England and bemoaned
the fact that, while Londoners were insubordinate (low on A: “right
to intervene”) tliey see a job through even if instructions do not
cover certain contingencies (taking “diffuse responsibility”). “Up
North,” die worker— while more docile—would either give up or
spoil the job by adhering to inapphcable instructions.
Others of Parsons’ predictions are likewise capable of measure-
ment, and are suggestive. For example, one way of dividing tech-
nical occupational roles ( roles other than entrepreneurial ones since
diese have general, diffuse, responsibility for the organization by
definition) isaccording to whether “the technical function involved
is in line with the function of die organization in the society, e.g.,
the physician in a hospital . . . , or whether the technical function is
auxiliary to die organization’s primary function, e.g., the physician
in die school system.” (ES 118) Such a distinction suggests that it
may be erroneous to think of an occupation as having a fixed level
of power and prestige. The power and prestige of an occupation
may be affected to some extent by whether or not it is primary to
die sector in which it is found.
Economists, like sociologists, have not succeeded in formulating

* Parsons, "Some Ingredients of a General Theory of Formal Organi-

zation," in Halpin, op. cit.
)

246 • Henry A. Landsherger

a convincing theory of wages. Their fate is a liighly instructive one

for all of us and for Parsons’ scheme in particular. The history of
wage economics is, very crudely, as follows. The concepts of mar-
ginal productivity and the tlieories of supply and demand held that
workers would be paid according to what they were worth. Em-
ployers would pay less and less if they were asked to hire more
and more labor, since, according to the theory, productivity de-
cHnes as more workers are hired. Equilibrium was reached where a
downward sloping demand-for-labor curve intersects an upward
sloping supply-of-labor curve. This was an equihbrium theory in
the full sense of the term, since full employment was assured by
the fact that workers would reduce their price in order to find em-
ployment. Indeed, the level of wages was that at which everyone
who wanted to do so could find employment. Inter-industry and
other wage differentials were likewise settled by supply and de-
mand. People moved to areas, to industries, to occupations, or to
levels of skill which offered unusually high wages.
Tliis model does not correspond to reality in many important
respects. Wages and the level of employment are not determinants
of each other, for wages do not move down at times of unemploy-
ment to absorb the unemployed. So how can one account for the
existing level of wages? As between industries, jobs, and areas, etc.,
strange wage differentials Iike\vise persist without influx of labor.
Disillusioned with theory, economists have recently been engaged
in discovering and describing what, was going on,
empirically,
leaving for later the attempt to explain what might be found. Ee-
gardless of explanation, what has happened to wage differentials?
When do people move and to what extent do they move? Essen-
tially,labor economists are asking the very modest, but very im-
portant, questions: What are the facts and what, at a very humble
empirical level, are the empirical relations between the facts? .

Speculation about underlying variables and forces and the build-

ing of a new model can come later. (This, of course, is an exag-
gerated description: labor economists are continually formulating
“middle range” theories, but are having -to discard tlrem for lack
of general validity.
The lesson is that the difficulty is not one of tliinldng up variables,
nor of finding empirical indices of them. Indices of wage rates, of'
PAI^SONS’ THEORY OF ORGANEZIATIONS • 247

mobility, and of employment, while imperfect, are as good as they

are in any field in the social sciences. Nor is the difiBculty that of
gathering data. The real difiBculty is that the empirical data ''do
not make sense.’* No one has hit on the actual, matliematical rela-

tionships between tlie variables which would actually account for

the data, hence no one can set up a model.
This has considerable relevance for Parsons. For in principle an
economist might grant tliat Parsons has now supplemented the- wage-
service bargain by a systematic some of
specification of at least
tlie otlier elements which are bargained and that this has been
for,

done in terms which have general applicability. He might also grant

that operational indices of these elements can be obtained. The real
difiBculty, however, will arise over explaining why just so much
contingent loyalty is exchanged for just so much right to interfere
in one occupation, and more in another. Parsons will probably try
to work with four variables simultaneously (or with eight if the
personality contract is included) balancing tliem ofiE against each
other. The economist, on the basis of his experience, might predict
that Parsons will have trouble finding die equations, that his diflB-
culty will be sixteen or sixty-four times as great as that of the
economists. Parsons would, of course, reply that whereas one can-
not find equations for just the wage-service bargain, one can do so
ifthe balancing eflFect of the otlier three elements are taken into
account. He would have he has
to concede, however, that as yet
not proposed a set of matliematically specified relationships—not
even a set of real hypotheses.

« * «

It is apparent tliat tliere are grave deficiencies in Parsons’ theory.

There is the lack of clarity in underlying purpose—whether Par-
sons’ scheme is explanatory and descriptiye of what is, or sets pre-
conditions and minimal conditions for stability, or whether it is an
ideal type. There is the conceptual vagueness of terms such as
sector and the absence of tight links to empirical indices of con-
cepts such as adaptation. There is the failure to specify quantities
or even, except in rare instances, to hypothesize functionaT
rela-
tionsliips, leaving the tlieory at the level of a set of
categories and
mechanisms ratlier than predictions. Indeed, it remains to be seen
248 • Henry A. Landsberger

whether these concepts lend themselves to being converted into

variables about which hypotheses can be formed. There is, finally,
the failure to cover certain causal variables systematically. When
judged against tlie goal which Parsons has set for himself, one can-
not but feel that the deficiencies at present exceed the achieve-
ments, and continued progress is by no means assured.
An alternative way toevaluate Parsons’ work is to judge it against
previous progress in the area in which he has chosen to work—the
construction of a general theory. For most fields in the behavioral
sciences— especially psychology—such an attempt is not of outstand-
ing importance. For sociology and organization theory tliis aim is
of great importance. Without implying a Comtian hierarchy of
sciences or a psychological reductionism, it is apparent tliat sociology
and organization theory need other disciplines more obviously than
psychology does. Parsons’ scheme alone starts out from the premise
that levels of analysis (sociology versus psychology), and func-
tional areas (sociology versus economics and politics) have to be
related to each other and that the issues with which each deals
have substantive similarities. Regardless of the merits of the scheme,
this intention to be comprehensive and to jump disciphnary borders,
and the seriousness with which Parsons pursues Iris intention, are
greatly to his credit.
As for the merits of the scheme, Iiis concepts refer to important
phenomena, certainly in the field of organization theory. No theory
of organization could fail to cover, yet none exists which does
cover, the acquisition of resources, the strain to reach a 'goal, in-
ternal integration, larger social values, and—most important— the
circular influence of each on the other. Parsons’ analyses of, and in-

problems
sights into, specific fit quite well into these categories
while at the same time being congruent witli tlie formulations of
some of the most advanced writers in die field. This is a remarkable
acliievement when one remembers that these categories were set
up to analyze completely different systems also, and that tliey do
so with at least a modicum of success. Parsons has advanced a
very modest degree toward covering common system problems, in
a field in which no other modest advances exist. Finally, Parsons’
concepts and their relationsliip pose new problems for research,
often in key areas that have been overlooked. I have found no
parsons’ theory of organizations • 249

more difficulty in thinking of tliese concepts in operational terms

than of any other set. In view of the wide range of knowledge which
Parsons demonstrates, and the elegance and subtlety of liis argu-
ment, I find it difficult to be anytliing but respectful of his con-
tribution while fully recognizing its present limitation.
.

1
PARSONIAN
William Foote Whyte

I
THEORY
I
APPLIED
I
TO
I
ORGANIZATIONS
O

A critique of the theories of Talcott Parsons as they

apply to organizations must begin with tlie recognition
that Parsons has devoted very little attention to organi-
zations and organization theory. I am sure he would be
the last man to say that at this point he has presented an
adequate theory of organization. Nevertheless, he is under-
taking to develop a general theory of society, and such
a general theor}^ should provide us witli some useful
guides for tlie examination of organizational life. We may
therefore legitimately ask:' Insofar as organization tlieory
goes, is Parsons on the right track? My
most general an-
swer can be given in one word: No.
. - T found these three main difficulties with the Parsons
effort in the field of organization theory:
V- . 1. He is concerned primarily with boundary relations,
PABSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS
• 251

the relations between the organization and society. He gives

little

attention to behavior \vithin tlie organization.

His concepts do not link up with observable data,
r sT He omits a number of elements that seem to me essential for

building organization tlieoiy.

I shall take up tliese objections in turn.

BOUNDARY RELATIONS

In the first of two articles on ‘‘Suggestions for a Socio-

logical Approacli to tlie Theory of Organization,” Parsons states his
point of view in these words:

The main point of reference for analyzing tlie structure of any

social system is its value pattern. This defines the basic orienta-
tion of the system (in the present case, the organization) to the
situation in which it operates; hence it guides the activities of
participant individuals. (ASQ 67)

Parsons calls this focus on die orientation of the system to its

situation the “cultural-institutional” point of view. He recognizes

that this is not the only way of viewng A second
organizations.
possible approach is one which involves a “group” or “role” point
of view,

. . . which takes sub-organizations and the roles of individuals

participating in the functioning of the organization as its point
of departure. (ASQ 67)

In these articles Parsons chooses to limit himself primarily to a

discussion of the “cultural-institutional” point of view. Such a limita-
tion is legitimate enough for one dieoretical essay. We
can hardly
expect a dieorist to cover everything at once. However, students
who peruse other Parsons’ articles on organizations will find him
still pursuing the cultural-institutional point of view.
The group
or role point of view continues to receive scant attention. Thus, the
student of organization who wishes to profit from Parsons’ writings
should expect to find help primarily in analyzing the stance an
252 • William Foote Whyte

organization takes to the surrounding society and not in terms of

guides to the internal dynamics of die organization. Let us see
what light he does tlirow on these boundary relations.
This approach enables Parsons to distinguish between business,
military, and university organizations. Some might say that tire
distinctions are so obvious tlrat the contribution is hardly wordi-
while. This is not my criticism. Often, in social science, it is neces-
sary to state systematically the obvious. I am rather concerned with
the breadtli of the generalizations that Parsons makes.
For example, let us not just compare business organizations and
mihtaiyf organizations in general. Let us take as examples t^vo units
in each field: (1) a mechanical maintenance organization at a major
Air Force base, (2) a large clerical oflBce in Air Force headquarters,
(3) a mechanical maintenance unit of a major commercial airline,
and (4) a clerical department in the home ofiBce of the airline. If
we w^ere making comparisons among these four, which pair would
seem more similar and which pair would seem more different? I
suspect tliat if we went in and observed tliese four units, we would
find more organizational similarities concentrated in units doing tlie
same type of work than within the two units having tlie mihtary or
the business classification.
This is not to say that there are no significant general differences
among and universities. Of course
businesses, mffitary organizations,
tliere are, and Parsons has pointed to some of these. My illus-
tration is simply designed to show that only a few crude general
statements can be made at this level. If we push beyond this very
high level of generality, we soon reach a point where our state-
ments are more misleading than factual.
I have pointed out that there are common elements among these
large organizational categories. It is also important to note tliat
there are great differences within any given category. My own
research experience has been confined primarly to studies within
private industry, but tins has covered industries as diverse as
restaxmants, hotels, petroleum, steel fabricating, plastics, glass, and
aluminum. No tlieorist can afford to lump such industries together.
This is not to say that there should be one organization tlieory for
the petroleum industry, another for the restaurant industry', and so
on. It is to say that the theory that ultimately emerges will have
PAKSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS * 253

to take this diversit)”^ into account. Parsons treats private

industry

as if it were all of one piece.

Let us see Parsons fares as he examines one type of organi-
how
zation-in this case, the mental hospital.® At the outset, Parsons
seeks to explain (a) why doctors dominate lay administrators in
mental hospitals, and (h) why doctors are more often appointed to
head those institutions than are professors appointed to the top
university positions.
Parsons begins by pointing to tlie values placed by society upon
tlie activities of the mental hospital. Health is certainly a key value,
and the doctor is identified with the curative process, whereas the
administrator is not. This strengthens the hand of the doctor as
against tlie administrator.
So far so good. But the same logic would seem to apply to the
general hospital, which is also identified Avith the health value.
Viliereas nearly all mental hospitals have psychiatrists as chief ad-
ministrators, the general hospital is as likely as not to have a lay-
man as administrator. Why tliis difference?
The author gets into furtlier difficulties with his mental hospital-
universit)' comparison. He states it in this way:

Correspondingly, die relative frequency with which non-academic

people are made university presidents is probably associated
with die greater diversity of the total faculties of a university
(including professional faculties) as compared with the profes-
fessional staff of a hospital.f

Wiat frequency? Logan Wilson makes this comment;

There is a widespread but mistaken notion that stands in

need
of correction widi reference to the backgrounds of college and
university presidents. One well-known commentator has stated
diat not more dian a third of the group is derived from the
ranks of professors. An investigation of die occupational [Link]-
ence of presidents of die diirt}' leading graduate institutions in

” Talcott Parsons,
“Tlie Mental Hospital as a Type of Organization,*’
Grcenblatt, Daniel Levinson, and Richard H.
Williams, eds..
‘'fenfol Hospital (Glencoe, The Free
111.; Press
19o/ pp. 108-129.
),
i Ibid., p, 119.
254 • William Foote Whyte

this country reveals that only two of tlie major executives have
had no professorial experience.®

IsParsons really trying to explain the difference between 28 out

of 30 and 30 out of 30? That seems like a fine point indeed. Of
course, it might be argued that Wilsons figures are now about
twent}'' years old and hmited to thirty cases, but Parsons presents
no figures at all,early or late. His use of the phrase, “relative fre-
quency, suggests that he himself is a victim of the “widespread
but mistaken notion” that Wilson sought to correct years ago.
Parsons appears to get on finner ground as he views in broad
outline the nature of mental hospital activities. He asks why it is
that mental hospitals have a tendency to concentrate upon cus-
todial care, often at the expense of therapy. Having already noted
the tendency of doctors to gravitate toward the top prestige posi-
tions in administration, he draws attention to the general condition
of shortage of funds facing these institutions. This means that the
tend to spend a disproportionate share of these scarce
institutions
funds on liigh-priced medical personnel for administrative posi-
tions and do not have the resources to employ enough medical
personnel to carry out effective therapeutic programs. This condi-
tion tends to leave the patients largely to tlie care of nurses, aides,
and attendants. They naturally are inclined to look upon patients
in terms of how much trouble patients cause them. A passive or
cooperative patient be preferred to one who is obstreperous,
is to
even the passive patient is making no therapeutic progress.
if

Tliis analysis seems useful and sound as far as it goes. In fact,

the points stated here have been recognized at least implicitly by
some innovators in the field of mental health. The concept of
milieu therapy is one ansxver to this problem. Psychiatrists have
recognized that patients’ progress depends upon their total experi-
ence in tlie institution. Since they vnll inevitably spend most of
their time -with fellow patients, nurses, aides,and attendants, some
psychiatrist-administrators have sought to train the nonmedical per-
sonnel in a therapeutic approach and have sought to develop group
activities among patients. The omission of these developments is

® Logan Wilson, The Academic Man (New York: [Link] University

Press, 1942), p. 85.
PARSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS • 255

not a criticism of the theory in itself, for the conception of the

milieu therapy fits in quite well with the analysis of the deficiencies
of the traditional mental hospital provided us by Parsons.
Mixed in with some questionable generalizations and one error
of fact, we some
find in this article hard to call
useful ideas. It is

them novel ideas so familiar to anyone who has

because they seem
read casually in the mental health literature. But let us assume that
the ideas are both new and important. Even so, we must note the
limited range of tlieir applicability.

Parsons is seeking to explain how

the societal environment affects
the selection of key personnel and the development of activity pro-
grams in the mental hospital. But suppose we washed to compare
die impacts of two hospital administrators, each on his own hospi-
tal? Or the effects of two different patterns of organization in two
mental hospitals? Since the stance of the mental hospital in rela-
tion to its broad societal environment is the same in each of these
cases, the Parsonian approach can only deal with similarities within
die same type of institution or differences behveen different types
of institution. We look in vain to Parsons for guidance in examining
differences in behavior, within the same type of organization.

CONCEPTS WITHOUT DATA

Elsewhere I have stated the following criticism;

Parsons expresses a great interest in “action,” and indeed die

word is in the tide in three of his books. This would lead one

to diink dial Parsons was interested in the actions of people—in

what they actually do. In this case, the appearance is deceptive.
Parsons is instead concerned with “die orientation of the actor
to the situation.” In the world of Talcott Parsons, actors are
constandy orienting themselves to situations and very rarely, if
ever, acting. The show is constandy in rehearsal, but die curtain
never goes up. Parsons focuses on die process whereby die in-
dividual sizes up his social environment and makes up his mind
about what he might do. At this point he stops. It is precisely
at diis point that some of us wish to focus our attention,^

William F. Whyte, Man and Organization (Homewood, HI.: Richard

Irwin& Company, 1959), pp. 40-41.
256 • William Foote Whyte

Apparently there is no disagreement between Parsons and myself

regarding what he is attempting. In his Cornell discussion of the
question put to him by critics, Parsons had this to say:

What I have been calling the “Theory of Action” is clearly not

a theory of behavior in Qie more immediate sense, particularly
concerned with the physical movements of organisms in relation
to the physical environment, including the processes of physical
production in the partly economic sense. It is rather a theory
that is concerned with the analysis of certain mechanisms which
control behavior in this latter sense, which therefore in the old-
fashioned, behavioristic sense, are not visible, not immediately
observable, which I think in the organism operate overwhelm-
ingly in the brain.

Parsons recognizes that there is a gap between his system of

concepts and observable data. He puts it this way:

We have pointed out that the behavioral units, which have to

be the units of empirical observation, in all probability cannot
be the system units. This is essentially to say that it is unlikely
that the theory of action will be able to do without the use of
intervening variables. (WP 108-9)

What then are to be the links between the “system units” and “be-
havioral units”? In a collaborative effort with R. Freed Bales, Par-
sons claims to have found the necessary links. For his interaction
process analysis method. Bales has divided all obseiwable behavior
in discussion groups into twelve categories. An exposition of the
Bales schema would take up too much
space for the present dis-
cussion, and I will assume that readers are generally famihar wdth
it, as it has indeed appeared widely in the hterature. Parsons now

proceeds to argue that some of his o^vn concepts Hnk up with those
of Bales. Since the Bales categories organize the direct observa-
tion of behavior, this would seem to bring Parsons down to earth.
Does diis combination enable us to advance our analysis of group
behavior? Or is it just a feat of translation—from the clear to the
obscure?
Regarding the link between the concepts of Bales and Parsons,
we have oidy the aflarmation that the Rvo sets of concepts fit to-
gether. However plausible the argument may seem, we are given
PABSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS • 257

no way of testing the fit nor any way of relating propositions derived
from one set of concepts \wtli those derived from tlie other. Even
if we assume that the fit of concepts is as good as Parsons
claims
it is, he has not gone on to demonstrate how these linkages enable
him to go beyond the very useful analysis of group behavior that
Bales carries out with his own conceptual tools.
The absence of any propositions atnoteworthy at this point.
all is

It is only when Parsons goes on to talk about the equilibrium of

social systems that he seems to be concerned with propositions. Fol-
lowing die model of classical mechanics, Parsons derives die fol-

lowing laws on the equilibrium of social systems:

1. The Principle of Inertia; A given process of action will con-

tinue unchanged in rate and direction unless impeded or
deflected by opposing motivational forces.
2. The Principle of Action and Reaction: If, in a system of
action, tliere is a change in the direction of a process, it will
tend to be balanced by a complementary change which is
equal in motivational force and opposite in direction.
3. The Principle of Effort; Any change in the rate of an action
process is directly proportional to the magnitude of the moti-
vational force applied or withdrawn.
4. The Principle of System-Integration; Any pattern element
(mode of organization of components) within a system of
action will tend to be confirmed in its place within the sys-
tem or to be eliminated from the system (extinguished) as a
function of its contribution to the integrative balance of the
system. (WP 102-3)

These propositions give die impression of concreteness, without

the [Link] make them applicable, we really need to know
(a) what are the units of observable action to which the proposi-
tions apply? and (b) how are these units quantified? Since, as
usual, Parsons gives us no hint regarding the connecdon between
his principles and data, we are simply left up in the air as to the
utility of the propositions.
I cannot leave this point without calling attention to die
unusual
nature of this performance. Here we have a major social theorist
stating propositionswhose meaning is completely unclear and then
going on to odier matters without making the slightest effort
to re-
late these propositions to the world of real behavior.
258 • William Foote Whyte

Ihave looked elsewhere in Parsons for links between his con-

cepts and the world of behavior, with little more success. At various
points in his writings he deals vdth terms such as legitimation, in-
stitutionalization, allocation, decision-making, integration, authorit)’,
staff and
line, and so on. Since at least some of these terms are
commonly used by other theorists of administrative beha\1or, we
might assume tlrat we are coming closer to tlie level of obsen'able
behavior than is usually tlie case with Parsons. This again seems to
be an illusion.
For example, in liis article on tlie mental hospital. Parsons makes
these statements:

On die one side, the powers and audiority of administration

must be legitimized. . . .

The prime base in the structure of organization for die accept-

ance of die consequences of policy decisions, on die other hand,
is the institutionalization of autiiority.®

When something being “legitimized” we assume that tlie verb

is

refers to a process that is going on. Parsons does not tell us what
this process is. We are simply left to assume that, if people accept
authority as legitimate or proper, somehow it has been legitimized.
Parsons is therefore referring to a state of sentiments or attitudes
among members of an organization ratlier than to any process.
The same criticism may be offered regarding the “institutionali-
ation of authority.” Authority has become institutionalized when
people accept authority, but we get no indication of how institu-

tionalization takes place or of how to know when it is or is not tak-

ing place.
Even the word “audiority” gives a misplaced sense of concreteness.
We all diink we know what authority is, but when we get to the
task of actually studying an organization, we have great difficult)'

in giving the term any operationally acceptable meaning. Are we

talking about the official and formal theory of the organization re-
garding who has authorit)' and who has not? Or are we dealing
with die patterns for initiating action that are to be obser\’cd w'ilhin

tlie organization? As we all know, official determinations regarding

® Parsons, “Tlje Mental Hospital,” pp. 124, 125.

PARSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS
* 259

the allocation of autliority are often quite at variance \vitli the be-
havior to be observ'ed in the organization. So we have to ask again,
what does Parsons mean by “autliority”? Like other questions de-
signed to link concepts to data, this one receives no answer.
The same problem arises when Parsons refers briefly to hne and
staff in his first Administrative Science Quarterly article. Pie de-
fines staff as

. .usually some kinds of experts who stand in an advisory

.

capacity to the decision makers at the various levels, but who

do not themselves exercise “line” authorit}'. (ASQ 69)

It is indeed an unusual case where the meaning of one term is

defined by another term whose meaning is also in question. But

there are more serious difficulties involved in this definition.
This definition of staff people as advisory might have been rea-
sonably adequate for organizations in which nearly all of the per-
sonnel were concerned in the central production activity and just
a few experts constituted tlie staff. Now most large-scale organi-
zations have developed large staffs involved in carrying out their
mra specialized activities. Do tliey have authority in relation to the
so-called line organization? That depends upon what we mean by
autliority.
For example, we may find the industrial relations department
setting up and administering m wage and salary administration
scheme. To be sure, the scheme itself may have to have the ap-
proval of some higher level functionary, but once tlie scheme is
instituted, the relevant personnel men make the decisions in tliis

sphere. They have the power approve or disapprove wage and

to
salary recommendations, in terms of tliis scheme.
In the handling of union grievances, we often find that an in-
dustrial relations man is actually making the decisions. In negoti-
ating a union contract, tlie industrial relations man
is often the chief
negotiator and chief decision maker. To be sure, he generally has
to get approval from top management as to the final terms he xvill
be able to offer, but often he does not just ask the top officials what
they are prepared to give. He tells them what, in his judgment, ivill
be necessar)' to offer in order to reach a settlement.
In fairness to Parsons, it should be added that in a later article.
260 • William Foote Whyte

he does indeed begin to point out the difficulties widi current con-
cepts of staff and line. In discussing school administration, he points
out that the teachers do not simply carry out what tlie adminis-
trators tell them to do. The teachers’

. .
.
position cannot be a simple ‘line” position. Nor, indeed, is
it adequate to assign them to the “stafF’ and say tliat tlieir
function is to “advise” die “lay” executive. This implies that it is
the executive who really makes the decisions. But diis is not
correct. The technical expert must, in die nature of the case,
participate in the technically crucial decisions.®

This is a wortliwhile beginning. Furtliermore, tlie contrast be-

tween the staff-line statements in the earlier and later articles sug-
gests one of the difficulties which has plagued Parsons’ efforts at
organizational theorizing. The earlier work suggests a Parsonian
assumption that he will get his feet firmly planted on tlie ground
when he links his concepts up to tliose which have been tradi-
tionally used in administrative tlieory. A further examination of the
staff-lineproblem is suggesting to him that these traditional con-
cepts are not firmly grounded. Where then should Parsons look in
order to ground his theories?
That question suggests a more general consideration of tlie re-
lationship behveen Parsonian concepts and observed behavior. Let
us look particularly at tlie relationship between action and the ac-
tors orientation to the situation. Parsons seems to assume that, if
we know the actor’s orientation to tlie situation, we can predict
how he wall act in tliat situation, (Otherwise, how justify such an
interest in orientation?)
Before we examine that assumption, we should note that it de-

pends upon our ability to determine the actor’s orientation to the

situation. By what methods are we to do this? On this point. Par-
sons gives us veiy^ little guidance. Presumably tlie actor orients him-
self first in terms of the values of the society pertaining to the situa-
tion he faces, but we have already noted that these values tend to

® T."ilcott Parsons, "Some Ingredients of n General Tlieotj’ of Formal

Organization,” in Andrew W. Halpin, ed., AdminlstraUci: Theory in
Education (Midwest Administration Center, University of Chicago,
1958), pp. 40-72.
PABSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS ‘ 261

be rather general and limit-setting rather than specifically determin-

[Link] does Parsons tell us how to determine whether a specific

indmdual has internalized tliese particular values. Anyone who
has done field research knows that tins is a most diflScult problem.
We try to determine a man’s orientation at least in part from
what he tells us about himself. Nevertheless, we often note tliat
informants rvill say one thing and do sometliing quite different.
Nor is tins generally a matter of deliberate deception on the part
of informants. They often giv'e us a normative account of their
orientation. In telling uswhat they are planning to do, they tell us,
in effect, what they feel they should do, and subsequent action
often follows quite a different path.
The difficulties of relating orientation to action are of course not
news to such a sopliisticated theorist as Parsons. I am simply point-
ing out that liis theory rests in important part upon some of the
slipperiest data that a sociologist has to contend with.
But let us make the large assumption tliat Parsons has some
adequate way of determining die actor’s orientation to tlie situa-
tion. Can he predict actions from tliese data? Not at all. What any
given individual wall do depends in large part upon what others
in the same situation wll do. Thus, if we are going to predict for
indmdual A, we would have to know not only A’s orientation to
the situation but also the orientations of B, C, D, and of all the sig-
nificant odiers in that situation. And even tliat would not be enough
because, as the situation unfolds, the process of interaction often
leads individuals to act in ways tliat could not have been predicted
from knowledge of their orientations.
If we make the actor’s orientation to the situation our primary
focus of interest, we are operating within a field where the boun-
daries of possible actions may perhaps be knoum but where the
forces witliin tlie field are almost completely indeterminate.
There are, fortunately, other Avays of going about the study of
organizations. Instead of concentrating our attention on orientations
to situations, we
can study Avhat the actor actually does. This takes
us into a field where the data can be objectively observed and, in
some cases, measured. When we do this, we find that life is not
nearly so indeterminate as it seems when we are wrestling with
orientations to situations. We soon learn to recognize patterns in
262 • William Foote Whyte

the actions men take. It is from the recognition of such patterns

tliat we can
expect progress in organization theory.
This is not to say that we should disregard any available informa-
tion on the actor s orientation to the situation. Such information is
highly useful when it is hnked together with what we can directly
observe. I am only saying that it is folly to base one's entire research
strategy on the type of data most difiBcult to gatlier and subject to
conflicting interpretations by different research men. Let us indeed
take an interest in the subjective life of the actor, but let us anchor
such information in the data we gather from the objectively ob-
servable life of that actor and his fellows.

SOME MAJOR OMISSIONS

Some of the elements omitted from the Parsonian scheme

have already been imphed in the previous discussion. This is tlie
time to make the points explicit and to provide some illustrations.
Parsons gives little if any expHcit attention to the impact upon
organizational behavior, of organization structure and the spatial
location of people. We have been finding that the way positions
are set up and related to each other has a most important impact
upon behavior. As a corollary to this, we find that different stmc-
tural arrangements have different behavioral consequences. The
same point may be made about the location of people in physical
space. Both of these influences are illustrated in our study of the
relations between plant manager and controller in the ABC Com-
pany.
In company, the organization structure provided
this particular
that tlierebe a manager and a controller in each plant, at the same
hierarchical level. The manager reported to the production man-
ager in the divisional office, while the controller reported to the
controller and vice president also in the divisional office.
This pai'ticular structmal arrangement seemed to be the source
of a good deal more friction between plant manager and plant con-
trollerthan we found in companies where the controller at the
plant was subordinated to the plant manager. The conflict was re-
ported to be particularly intense for the company’s two largest
PARSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS
• 263

plants which were located in the same city as the divisional head-
quarters. In a smaller plant some three hundred miles away from
divisional headquarters, we found a plant manager and plant con-
troller getting along with very little friction.

Wliile personalities must be taken any study of

into account in
interpersonal frictions, the presence or absence of friction between
these two positions could be accounted for to a substantial extent
by a consideration of organization structure and spatial location of
personnel. In the divisional office city, the plantmanager interacted
frequently wdth his superior, the production manager, and the plant
controller interacted frequently with his superior, tlie controller
and vice president. This meant that between the two equal
confficts
autliorities at plant level could readily be passed up the line for
resolution at a higher level. The two men did not have to resolve
their problems on a face-to-face basis. In tlie smaller plant, some
three hundred miles distant, the plant manager and plant con-
troller saw their respective superiors only perhaps half a dozen
times a year. There was some communication via long distance
phone calls, but each man had a budget for his telephone expenses,
and he incurred criticisms from above when he exceeded that bud-
get. Facing these spatial and budgetary limitations upon communi-
cation with superiors, the plant manager and plant controller were,
in effect, thrown together to work out their problems with each
other. In the case we observed, die plant manager had become the
dominant figure, and a smooth-working relationsliip had been es-
tablished.
I amnot suggesting, from this case, that a given structural or
geographical arrangement of personnel absolutely determines the
relationsamong men. I am simply claiming that such objectively
observable factors do have an important channeling influence and
that organization theory must take them into account.
Technology and the nature of the actual job operations provide
another source of influence. The case cited earlier of the airline and
Air Force clerical and maintenance departments was intended to sug-
gest that the teclmology and nature of job operation could be ex-
pected to have an important impact upon organizational behavior.
Thus, certain similarities in technology and job operation could be
expected to lead to some similarities in organizational behavior even
264 • William Foote Whyte

between parts commonly classified as lying in two

of organizations
distinct fields such as military and business organizations. As a
corollary to this, we would expect that where we find significant
difl[erences in technology and job operations even \vitlnn one gen-
eral category such as business, we can expect to find significant
differences in organizational behavior. I am not claim-
Here again
ing a determining influence but simply suggesting that technology
and job content are sufficiently important in channeling organiza-
tional behavior so that they must be taken into account in build-
ing organization theory.
In research, we are beginning to go
beyond the mere statement
that technology and job content are important. In examining factors
leading to cohesion of work groups, Leonard Sayles * has shown
that work groups which are relatively homogenous in job opera-
tion, pay, level of skill, and so on, tend to stick together in their
dealings with management more effectively than do groups which
are heterogeneous in these respects. Homogeneity or heterogeneit)'
is determined to a large extent by the nature of the technology and

job operations within a particular department.

The flow of work from worker to worker and from department to

department provides another important dimension of organization

neglected by Parsons. No
one can make sense out of organizational
behavior in a large restaurant, for example, unless he examines the
flow of work from customer to waitress, from waitress to service
pantry persoimel, from waitress to bartender, and from waitress
back to customer.
The same point can be made for the factory or other types of
organizations. For example, I once studied a foreman of a steel-
barrel production department. At one time, he had been making
production records and was getting along exceedingly well with
workers, union representatives, and his superiors in management.
Two years later, he was transferred to a lower status job because
he was thought to be doing poorly in production, and he was ex-
periencing mounting friction xvitli workers and union representa-
tives. What made the difference? As we would expect, tliere was no

* Leonard Sayles, Behavior of Industrial Work Groups ( New York:

Jolm Wiley and Sons, 1958).
PAESONIt^N THEOBY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS
* 265

single factor in tliisbut a major part of tlie explanation was

case,
found tlirough an examination of tlie work flow dirough the de-
partment.
Joe Walker, the foreman in tliis case, had never got on well with
foremen in other departments and had always been weak in plan-
ning his work. In the period of his success, diese deficiencies were
unimportant. At tliat time, the company was operating in a seller s
market, so Joe Walkers production was confined to long runs of a
few simple types of barrels. On each of the two lines in his depart-
ment, he might be running the same order all week long. This
called for a minimum of planning activit)' and for a most simple
paper work operation. It also made for infrequent interactions with
otlier departments. One week or so with the
order placed every
steel storagedepartment for liis steel sheets and an order placed
with die punch press department for covers was all that was re-
quired to keep him supplied widi materials. Similarly, the shipping
department had only to be notified once a week or so as to the prod-
uct diat was coming through for a particular purchaser. Further-
more, long runs of a few simple products made for infrequent
machine breakdowms and consequently few calls for help from the
maintenance department.
A drastic change in the market situation brought about a sweep-
ing change in the activities and interactions of Joe Walker. Now, to
keep die plant running, the salesmen were seeking and accepting
orders for shorter runs and for a much wider variety of barrels than
in the earher period. The short runs and the frequent changes in
production and production lines called for Walker to interact much
more frequendy xvith foremen in die departments supplying him
and ivith the foremen in die shipping department. In other words,
he was thrown into much more frequent contact with individuals
with whom he had never got along anyway. The change also put
pressure upon his weakness in planning, for now at last diere were
complex activities to plan for die department. Finally, it seems that
machines diat are left alone break dowi much less frequently than
machines that are constantly being adjusted for different types of
production operations. The change therefore required Walker to
call for help much more often from the maintenance
department,
which was again a point of previously established frictions.
266 • William Foote Whyte

Elsewhere am describing this case in much more detail, in-

* I

cluding other changes than those which occurred in the work flow
and production process, but perhaps even this highly simplified ver-
sion suggests the importance of the impact of these factors upon
organizational behavior.
We can, of course, say that Joe Walker s orientation to the^ situa-
tion changed in course of these two years, but why concentrate
tlie

on these elusive data when we can use data almost as concrete as

the steel barrels that gave Walker so much trouble? Furthermore,
it is only through examining such objective changes as I have de-

scribed that we can explain the change in the situation and the
change in Joe Walkers orientation to it.
Other omissions by Parsons could be noted, but they all add up
to the same point: by failing to deal in any adequate way with data
that are abundantly observable and measurable. Parsons has chosen
to erect his theoretical scheme on quicksand.
These remarks regarding omissions will eome as no surprise to
Talcott Parsons. I made essentially tlie same points in a seminar
discussion held with him at Cornell, At the time, if I remember
correctly, he acknowledged that (1) the factors I described were
indeed important, and that (2) he did not deal witli them.
This statement reflected the generous view of the research of
others for which Parsons is justly known. Perhaps I should be
equally generous in my reply and say in effect: “You go your way
and I will go mine. There is room in the field of organization theory

for both of us,” However, I do not feel that this kind of tolerance
is appropriate for the advancement of knowledge. I think we must

agree tliat, from the standpoint of building organization theory,

factor X is eitlier important or unimportant-~to simplify tire argu-
ment, us ignore the gradations in between. If factor
let X is un-
important, then it can safely be disregarded. If factor X is indeed
important, then cannot safely be disregarded. It does not make
it

sense to say, in the same breath: “For the purposes of building or-
ganization theory, factor X is important, but I choose to exclude
factor X from my theory of organization.”

* William F. Whyte, Men at Work (Homewood, 111., Irwin-Dorsey,

1961).
'

PABSONIAN THEORY APPLIED TO ORGANIZATIONS 267

CONCLUSION

attempting to build a systematic theory of so-

Parsons is

ciety, and therefore his system should apply to organizational be-

havior. I have already indicated that I find this effort unsuccessful.
I do not find here an acceptable tlieory of organization—which
would certainly be too much to ask, given the scant attention Par-
sons has devoted to [Link] neither do I find the bases
upon which a sound theory of organization might be built— and
perhaps I might be permitted to ask for that much.
This does not mean that I regard the work of Talcott Parsons as
of no consequence. Altliough I now and tlien ask myself whetlier
the intense effort necessary to penetrate the writings of Parsons
can justify tlie value of the ideas to be found therein, I do feel that
he has presented us with a number of very useful ideas.
Others can review this sort of contribution much better than I,

but let me mention several points so as not to leave die impression

that I am simply being polite in my conclusion.
It seems to me tliat the pattern variables are a most stimulating
contribution. \^T:ioever seeks to deal with the characteristic ways
tliat people view the world around them will find that he gets useful
leverage on his problems from the Parsons formulations. J find this
approach particularly pertinent in dealing with intercultural com-
parisons.
As Henry Landsberger has pointed out. Parsons" analysis of the
exchange of values tliat takes place between employer and em-
ployee in an organization provides an approach whereby tlie think-
ing of economists and sociologists can be more effectively brought
together.
Others may find any one of a number of other points equally
stimulating or even more valuable. This suggests that the contribu-
tion of Talcott Parsons will eventually not be in tlie area of system-
atic tlieorj^ buildingbut rather in the creation of a number of
provocative ideas wliich can be used by many students, whatever
their tlieoretical orientatibns.*
SOME
Max Black

I
QUESTIONS
I
ABOUT
I
PARSONS’
I THEORIES

I. THE OBJECT OF THIS PAPER

A thorough investigation of Parsons’ methodolog)'

would require consideration of tlie following questions:
( 1 ) What is to be understood by a '‘general tlieory” of
action? (Are there analogues in tlie natural sciences? What
are the advantages to be expected from such a theory? Is
such a theory necessary or desirable in the social sciences?)
(2) How are the basic categories of Parsons’ theory ob-
tained? (Do tliey arise from previous empirical research?
If so, how? Are tliere any acceptable tests of their validity?
If so, what are tliey? What would be sulBcient grounds for
revising Parsons’ conceptual scheme?)
(3) In what ways are tlie “pattern variables” related to
the basic conceptual scheme? (Does tliat scheme require
)

SOME QtJESTIONS ABOOT PABSONS’ THEOKIES * 269

those variables? Are the five variables "exhaustive” of all possibil-

ities?Would alternative modes of classifying “pattern variables” be
compatible with die general intentions of the supporting theory?)
(4) What kinds of definitions are provided for the basic terms
of the theory? (Are the terms univocal or “schematic”? How directly
are they linked with possible observations? Are explicit definitions
of the separate terms conceivable— or does the system stand as a
whole in some kind of confirmable relation to experience?)
(5) How is Parsons’ theory to be construed? (Is it to be regarded
as a set of liighly general hypotheses about persons and social sys-
tems? Or is it, perhaps, better viewed as a “frame of reference,”
whatever we take that to be? Is it, perhaps, best regarded as a
terminology for tiie expression of substantive social theory?)
I offer these examples as representative of the kinds of questions
that need to be asked about Parsons’ work, though I have neither
die time nor the capacity to answer all of them. It will be noticed
that the questions are concerned with problems of metiiod; I am
quite unable to judge the merits of Parsons’ specific contributions
to the sociology of the professions, die study of small groups, or to
any other branch of the social sciences.
My remarks will be almost entirely limited to the discussions
contained in Toward a General Theory of Action and especially to
the “General Statement” and the monograph entitled “Values, Mo-
tives, and Systems of Action” to be found in that work. (I speak
diroughout of “Parsons,” though the works in question are in fact
attributed to Parsons and Shils.

II. parsons’ conception of the purpose

OF A GENERAL THEORY OF ACTION

The theoretical constructions to be discussed have arisen

from an attempt to unify the foundations of psychology, sociology,
and andiropology— or, as we might put it, to provide a charter for
die united social sciences.
According to Parsons (GTA 3), the desired “general dieory” will
consist of generalized hypotheses” together with a “formulation
of
270 • Max Black

certain fundamental categories ” The hypotheses are to permit “sys-

tematic reformulation of existing facts and insights,” or “codification
By displaying relations between hitherto disparate facts and gen-
eralizations, tliey will point the way to furtlier observations. The
categories “enter into the formulation of general tlieory.” Hav-
tliis

ing been selected in an orderly or “systematic” way ( according to

procedures to be examined later in this paper), they facihtate con-
struction of an internally organized or “systematic” tlieory, ratlier
than a mere aggregate of disconnected generalizations. In tliis way
they help us to become “more aware of the interconnections among
items of existing knowledge which are now available in a scattered,
fragmentary form.” (GTA 3)

Comments

(1) Parsons is clearly right in distinguishing between the task

of framing highly general hypotheses, derived from existing special
hypotheses, and the task of devising an adequate terminology for
their formulation. It one thing to make broad statements, true or
is

false, and anotlier to propose a set of words for making such

statements. The statements might be true, though expressed in an
obscure terminology; or the words might have clear meanings, yet
tlie statements be false or tautologous.

(2) The two tasks are clearly connected: we have to judge the
proposed terminology in the light of the statements it helps us
to formulate. For instance, it would be impossible to have a set
of statements simultaneously applying to antliropological, economic,
and psychological data, unless we were provided with a vocabulary
simultaneously applicable to aU of these domains.
(3) Parsons does not provide a list of his “general hypotheses”:
we are left to perform this crucial task ourselves, by collating his
scattered remarks (cf. Section III infra).
(4) Stress upon the need for “system” in presenting “hypotlieses
and “categories” is liighly characteristic of Parsons’ thought. “Sys-
tem” in this sense must not be confused with the sense in which
tliere are, according to Parsons, systems of action. Parsons’ theory
is intended to be systematic in the dictionary sense of “arranged,
or conducted, according to a plan or organized method.” More
specifically. Parsons’ theoretical ideal demands a terminology con-
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PAHSONS’ THEORIES * 271

trolled by explicit principles of classification that generate a com-

plete inventory of logically possible combinations. It is, as I see it,
the ideal of an intelligible and [Link] schedule. Given such
a schedule, we may expiect the associated hypotheses to exliibit a
similar kind of order-that is to say, to result from a methodical
scrutiny of a complete set of logical possibilities.'*

(5) While tliere is no objection of principle to the

proposed way
of trying to organize scientific disciplines into a “system,” it is
wortli remembering tliat tliere are otlier and equally adequate
modes of unification. Physics, chemistry, and biology are rapidly
•becoming “unified,” so that the divisions between them appear
increasingly to be based upon practical convenience in the division
of scientific labor. But tliis has not come about by tlie imposition
on all tliree of a single schedule of classificatory concepts.f

m. parsons’ basic assumptions

I shall try to state in this sectionsome of the “general

Iq'potlieses” whose be suflSciently established
truth Parsons takes to
—tlie general truths about individual and social behavior that he
feels called upon to recognize in liis system. As I said above, tliese
are not presented in any orderly fashion in Parsons’ writings, and
have to be e-xtracted from discussion about related topics. I cannot
expect to make the list complete.

® Cf. GTA
20, f.n. 27. My account differs markedly from that given
elsewliercby Parsons (GTA 49). His own criteria of "system" are
(a) the “generality and complexity” of the theory', (b) tlie degree to
which the various assertions of the theory are in explicit deductive
connection with one anotlier, and (c) “the level of systematization;
diat is, . . . how advanced toward tlie ultimate goals
far tlie tlicory is
of science.” Of these, the first and
last are too vague to be of any
sen'icc, and tlie second does not fit Parsons’ practice. To anybody
familiar ivith deductive procedures in matliematics and the natural
sciences, Parsons’ claim to “carry deductive procedures further than
is common in tlie social sciences ’ ( GTA
49 ) will seem surprising.
There is very' little strict deduction in Parsons’ [Link].
f For a recent discussion of some of tlie tlieoretical issues involved,
see .Paul Oppenheun and Hilaiy' Putnam, “Unity of Science
Working HypoUicsis,” Minnesota Studies in the Philosophu of Science
2:3-38 (1938).
as a
rji.
272 • Max Black

(1) All human action is directed toward goals.

Comment: I take Parsons’ use of the word “orientation” to be a
way of talking about goals. To be oriented toward G, is to have G
as a provisional or terminal goal, and vice versa. It is important
to bear in mind throughout that the “goal”
is the desired terminus
as appears to the actor. It is the end in view, rather than any
it

terminus that may be imputed by an external observer. This impor-

tant contrast is somewhat blurred by Parsons’ admission of “uncon-
scious” goals.

(2) All human action is relational, in the sense of being a func-

tion of the actor’s innate needs (or “viscerogenic needs”), his
acquired orientations, and the particular situation in which he
finds himself.
Comment: Here, as before, it is important to stress that the
“situation” in question is the situation as it presents itself to tlie

actor himself—the “subjective” or “psychological” situation, as it

were. The
“orientations” can be thought of as acquired predisposi-
tions to respond in certain ways to given stimuh. It is central to
Parsons’ approach to insist that these predispositions are largely
the products of the goals and standards of the social system to
which the individual belongs.
(3) All human response to stimuli has two distinct dimensions—
is simultaneously cognitive and cathectic.
Comment: I say “response” here, rather than “action,” because
the distinction, so far as I can see, is intended to apply to covert
changes in the actor as well as to overt reactions to the demands
of a situation. Parsons sometimes refers to both of these as “action.”
Pages could be written about the meanings to be imputed to
Parsons’ key terms, “cognitive” and “cathectic,” At the crudest level
of common sense I would try to translate “to cognize” as “to per-
ceive, beKeve, to think, in short to do anything with respect to

which questions of truth or falsity may arise”; similarly, “to cathect’

might be rendered as “to be attracted or repelled by, to like or
dislike, to want or not to want, in short to do anything vdth respect
to which questions of personal satisfaction or dissatisfaction can
arise.” These formulas are vague, to be sure, but no more so than
Parsons’ own accounts. Thus Parsons variously describes “cathexis”
as an “attachment” (GTA 5), a “response” (GTA 8), a “state”
SOME QXJESTIONS ABOUT PABSONS’ THEOBIES * 273

(GTA 10), and so on. These variant formulations are not easily

reconcilable with one another.

(4) All human action involves selection between alternative

orientations and responses.

Comment: The process of deciding between alternatives is called

evaluation (GTA 11)

of standards.
(5) Selection (or evaluation) involves the use
Comment: Standards, also called “norms,” may perhaps be
tliought of as rules or prescriptions for making choices. I pass over
various distinctions that might worth pointing out
be made. It is

that Parsons repeatedly as a problem of

tlrinks of “evaluation”

“allocation” of scarce resources among conflicting demands and

interests. Such allusions to analogues in economics are fairly com-
mon in his rvriting.

(6) AH interaction between actors involves complementaritij of

expectation, in the sense "that the action of each is oriented to the
expectations of tire other.”

Comment: Expectation falls on tire side of tire “cognitive”: one

might wonder why tlrere should not be also a parallel “catlrectic”
complementarity, with, as it were, the desires of the self “oriented”
to the desires of the other. 1do not find this in Parsons—perhaps
because it is from Mead, who is the acknowledged
also absent
progenitor of tiris segment of Parsons’ theory.
(7) Orientations and actions are organized in systems.
Comment: Here, “systems” must be construed as analogous to
organisms, in tire biological sense.** They are conceived to have the
crucial property of being ‘boundary-maintaining” and "structure-
maintaining”— they resist external attack, and exercise an internal
control over their components analogous to ‘homeostasis.”
(8) All the above principles apply to social systems of all levels
of complexity, up to and including the total society, as well as to
individuals.
Comment: This is so broad in its implications that it can hardly
be treated as coordinate rvith the seven statements tlrat precede it.
However, it is so integral to Parsons’ thought that I have felt its

**
Cf. Talcott Parsons, “Some Comments on the State of the
General
Theory of Action," American Sociological Review 18:623
(1953).
274 • Max Black

inclusion tobe necessary. It is characteristic of Parsons’ procedure

to apply the same kind of language both to individuals and also
to groups, professions, and so on.

General Comments on Parsons’ Assumptions

Given the eight propositions listed above, we have enough

illustrative material to raise tlie crucial question of method. I take
this to be: Are Parsons’ “assumptions” properly to be regarded as
’
empirical generalizations?
Some merits of Parsons’ approach. Since many of my subsequent
comments will be critical or skeptical, I think it proper to begin
by registering admiration for the reach of Parsons’ theoretical
scheme. The great achievements of scientific theory have not been
made by timid men, anxious to stay close to the facts at hand, or
to what tlieir contemporaries took to be such “facts.” Science needs
men of imagination, wilhng to incur the risks of speculative con-
struction. The need is particularly urgent in the social sciences,
where the temptation is great to waste time in questionnaire con-
struction, tlie factor analysis of trivial data, and other ways of add-
ing to tlie bulging files of unread “research.” Only tliose who have
faced the exacting problems of theory construction are entitled to

throw stones and pioneering labors. It has

at Parsons’ stimulating
the great merit of being a theory, an honest and ingenious attempt
to prowde a basis for linking togetlier and understanding lower-
level generahzations. Right or wrong. Parsons’ system raises impor-
tant questions, suggests new ideas, and provides unexpected leads

for empirical investigations.

Any reader must be impressed also by the complex architecture
of tlie system. The intricate connection of concepts typical of
Parsons’ approach, though it adds to the diflSculty of understanding,
also promises fruitful application. So much by way of preliminary
appreciation and tribute.
Is the theory basically “static”? A curious feature of Parsons’
theory of action, remarked upon by several critics,* is the extent

* E.g., by G. E. Swanson, in his article, “The Approach to a General

Theory of Action by Parsons and Shils,” American Sociological Review
18 125-34 ( 1953 ).
:
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PABSONS’ THEORIES * 275

to which any ordinary sense of that term, fails to get

action, in
discussed at all. As we have seen, the theory leans heavily upon
the notion of orientation or, as we might prefer to say, attitude.
Now an orientation or attitude has to be construed as a state of a
person or a social system: it is an abstraction from the condition
of a given '"actor" in a given social field or social situation at a
given moment, (The very word "orientation" suggests something
static-“the direction in which a body is pointing,) Certainly, an
attitude must also be regarded as a predisposition to act in a
certain way, so that the operational tests of a given actors having
a given attitude will have to consist of observations of his acts,
coupled with inferences as to how he would act in other situations.
But if reference to actions in the ordinary sense tlius enters into
the very definition of an attitude, it still remains true that the

end-product is a description of how the actor stands (what internal

and external stresses determine his position of momentary equilib-
rium), There is consequently a serious question whetlier any
description of this type, valuable as it may be in other respects,
will yield predictions as to how the actor rvill move (i.e., will act
in the ordinary sense of the term). We may well remind ourselves
at this point that what is called the "statics” of ordinary material
bodies (the theory of bodies under equilibrium) has to be sup-
plemented by independent mechanical principles before we are
in a position to say anything about the motions of material bodies.
Statics can be regarded as a particular case of dynamics, but not
vice versa. And this is so, in spite of the fact that definitions of tlie
"forces” acting upon a material body in equilibrium involve refer-
ence to the ways in which tlie bodies in question would begin
to move in certain test conditions.
Parsons anticipates this criticism in a section of GTA entitled
"Descriptive and Dynamic Analysis.” (GTA 6) His reply amounts
to saying that the verysame variables will be needed in botli the
staticand the dynamical theories, and that it is uneconomical to
formulate dynamical questions before tlie questions of statics have
been answered. This may be readily conceded. But he apparently
overlooks the need for new variables and new principles when we
introduce dynamical considerations. It seems to me that his choice
of concepts restricts him to discussing cases of equilibrium
or quasi-
'

276 • Max Black

equilibrium (cases in wliich changes are so small or so gradual as

to be negligible) and in tliis way limits the apphcability of liis
theory.
I think we can generahze somewhat and say tliat Parsons, con-
sciously or not, is primarily interested in tlie equihbrium conditions
of social system. The following is 'a characteristic statement: “The
most general and fundamental property of a system is tlie inter-
dependence of parts or variables [which] is order in the
. . .

relationsliips among the components wlrich enter into a system.

This order must have a tendency to self-maintenance, which is very
generally expressed in the concept of equilibrium.” "
In view of the influence upon Parsons’ thought of economic
models, we may remind ourselves of the notorious difficulties in
classical economic theory of handling problems of change and
development.]-
I conclude that in the present stage of development of Parsons'
tlieory, it should be regarded primarily as a theory about “social
statics,” to be appraised by criteria appropriate to such an under-
taking.]: In particular, we should not expect Parsons to be able

There follows tlie revealing footnote: “Tliat is, if the system is

to be permanent enough to he worth study, there must be a tcndencj^
to maintenance of order except under exceptional circumstances.
(GTA 107; italics added.)
t Cf. the following statement: *T find myself in the curious position
of, on the one hand, saying that economics lias veiy important con-
tributions to make to the study of social dynamics, and, on tlie other
hand, finding it almost necessary to deny tliat there can be any sucli
tiling as economic dynamics.” Kenneth E. Boulding, “Economics as
a Social Science,” The Social Sciences at Mid-Century (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 1952), p. 82. Boulding looks hopefully
to the sociologist to “take into account some of the more important
variables of actual social dynamics” ( ibid, ) and in this way to invest
economics with genuine predictive power.
1 1 wiU add one small but perhaps significant piece of evidence.
In
citing examples of tlie use of his scheme “as a direct instrument of

new empirical research,” Parsons mentions an attempt “to use and

develop this type of theory in predicting from the characteristics of
families, peer groups, and schools, and the place of a boy in tlicm,
what place in the occupational system he will come to occupy.
American Sociological Review, 18:630 (1953). Tliis type of prraic-
tion, from one state of quasi-equilibrium to another, is strikingly
reminiscent of the so-called method of “comparative statics* in
economics.
SOME QXJESTIONS ABOUT PABSONS’ THEORIES * 277

to predict how social systems will change, though we might rea-

sonably expect him to tell us wliich conditions of such systems

might be expected to be relatively stable.
Is the theory non-empirical? A number of Parsons’ readers are
likely to be troubled by the apparent distance of his basic concepts
from direct observations. Certainly, no superficial inspection of the
world will yield ^'attitudes,” "subjective goals, internalized stand-
ards,” and the other conceptual instruments in Parsons’ armory.
So an uneasy suspicion may arise that Parsons has provided a free-
floating linguistic system, capable of gratifying those who have
succumbed to its formal charm, but resisting any prosaic mooring to
observational criteria.
I believe such fears are unwarranted. The concepts instanced are,

of course, “high-level” ones, “constructs” unamenable to expHcit

definition in terms of observables. But the time should long be past
when this was regarded as a defect. Physics, “the science that has
made good,” contains any number of concepts tliat are similarly
remote from experience. So long as the system in which the con-
cepts are embedded is furnished with an adequate supply of “coordi-
nating definitions” for drawing observational consequences from
theoretical premises, that is all that can reasonably be expected.
I see no reason why tliis should in principle be impossible in
Parsons’ case. The ingenuity of tlie experimentalist can be trusted
to invent reliable tests for the presence of any of tlie concepts that
Parsons needs, though I do not wish to underrate tlie difficulties
of this program in particular cases. Parsons’ theory is a good deal
“closer to immediate reality” than, say, quantum physics, and should
not be judged more harshly than the latter on these grounds.
On tlie other hand, I am inclined to wonder whether the fype of
tlieory that. Parsons is presenting can reasonably be expected to
be causal in form. It vdll be remembered that the “high-level” or
“molar” laws of physics take the form of general principles restrict-
ing admissible types of transformation or change (as in the case
of principles of “conservation”). While we cannot exclude the pos-
sibility of causal connections, in some sense of that expression,

between "emergent properties,” tlieir instrumental function in pro-

viding deductive connections between the components of a
theo-
retical system recommends caution. To state my difficulty a little
278 • Max Black

more definitely; I would be surprised if genuinely causal laws

could be shown to hold between “orientations,” “goals,” and the
like. It seems to me, as it were, a priori likely that we must look

for the causal chains in the discernible pressures upon, and resist-
ances ^vithin, individuals. If tliis is so, Parsonian principles will
have to be regarded as laying down general restrictions upon the
forms such changes can take-i.e., as specifying a framework for
possible laws, rather than as themselves constituting the laws we
ultimately hope to find.
Where do the concepts come from? Parsons does not tell us how
he obtains the basic concepts of his theory (though he does say
a good deal about the influences that have guided his own thinking,
mentioning J. L. Henderson, Max Weber, Freud, Hull, and many
others). Now, if we had a clear view of the process by which the
concepts ai-e obtained, we might be in a position to judge whether
they have been well chosen and in what ways the choices might
be improved. (I shall not here consider the pragmatic test of how
well the system works in stimulating fruitful experiment and
observation—time alone can settle diat.)
The point has some importance in view of the impression I get

of tire arbitrariness of some of the decisive choices made by Parsons.

To take a single example of great importance for appraising his
scheme: Wliat is the justification for the “cognitive-cathectic” con-
trast tliat runsthrough the whole of the theory? I have already
hinted at the shifts in meaning that the term “catliectic” manifests
in Parsons’ writings. The cognitive-cathectic contrast is hardly
more crude contrast between “thinking” (with
tlian the layman’s
believing, perceiving, etc., thrown in) and “feeling.” It seems un-
likely that genuine science is to be expected in terms of distinctions
as crude and unsystematic as tliese. I can illustrate what I mean
from a field in which I feel a good deal more at home—tlie theory
of language. For a time there was current here a contrast between
“referential” and “emotive” discourse tliat closely parallels Parsons’
distinction between the “cognitive” and the “cathectic.” It has
become increasingly plain, however, tliat the multifarious uses of
language are not to be understood in terms of so crude an opposi-
tion, a more detailed and flexible system of organizing concepts
being needed to do justice to the complexity of linguistic phenom-
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PABSONS’ THEORIES * 279

ena. And I am inclined to think tliat the same must be true of

analysis
Parsons’ scheme. I believe an over-simple psychological
pervades Parsons’ tliought and tliereby limits its usefulness.

On tlie whole, seems to me, the component concepts of Parsons

it

scheme are laymen’s concepts in the thin disguise of a technical-

sounding tenninology.
The following might be the result of trying to express Parsons’
postulates in plain English:
(1) “Whenever you do anything, you’re trying to get something
done.”
(2) “What you do depends upon what you want, how you look
at things, and the position you find yourself in.”
(3) ‘Tou can’t do anything without thinking and having feelings
at the same time.”
(4) “Human life is one long set of choices.”
(5) “Choosing means taking what seems best for you or what
others say is the right thing.”
(6) "When you deal with other people, you always have to
take account of what they [Link] you to do.”

(7) “There’s a lasting pattern to the way people behave.”

(8) “Families, business firms, and other groups of persons often
behave surprisingly like persons.”
I think these aphorisms contain nearly all of the content of the
Parsonian principles I listed in Section III above.
'Perhaps this shows how close Parsons has remained to the wisdom
of the hoi [Link] one may wonder whether it is plausible for
fundamental social theory to be so close to common sense. If the
history of the development of the natural sciences is any guide,
fundamental social theory will have to employ recondite notions,
at a considerable remove from direct observation, in order to have
any hope of providing an adequate framework for research. As

® The contrast between “tliinking” and

“feeling” is reminiscent of the
ancient tripartite division of the faculties. But what has happened to
tlie “conative” in Parsons? Tlie functions of the will in the older
psychology seem^ to have become absorbed in tlie “allocative” func-
tions of Parsons’ “evaluation”-as if the will were a kind of referee
between tliought and sentiment. I would like to see a competent
psychologist engage in a detailed criticism of Parsons’ psychological
. assumptions.
280 • Max Black

Ernest Nagel has said, the concepts of a comprehensive social theory

"willhave to be apparently remote from the familiar and obvious
traits found in any one society; its articulation will involve the use
of novel algorithmic techniques; and its application to concrete
materials will require special training of high order/’* Parsons’
theory does not meet these requirements.
Two types of ambiguity in Parsom. I have been suggesting that
Parsons’ principles are close to the level of proverbial wisdom.
Now it is characteristic of proverbs, and one reason for their use
as a substitute for precise thought, that they embody ambiguities
making them indefinitely adaptable to almost
any circumstances.
("Look before you leap!” Of course. But then it all depends on
what you recognize as the "leap” and what is to count as ‘looking.”)
I want to argue that Parsons’ principles manifest the same peculiarity.
Consider tlie principle that all human action is directed toward
goals (the first principle listed in section III above). We might
narrowly construe “goals” to mean something like “explicit end-in-
view.” In that case, die principle is plainly and obviously false.
If I am trying to hammer a nail into a hole, I certainly do have an
explicit end-in-view, so tliat my action can be properly described
as directed toward a goal, in the narrow sense of that term. On die
other hand, if I am smoking a cigarette, I have no explicit end-in-
view, neither of consuming the cigarette, nor of sootlung my nerves,
nor of finding something to do, nor anydiing else. In the sense of
goal in question, nearly all human action is not directed toward
a goal. But, on the odier hand, if we allow “goal” to be construed
sufficiently widely for “unconscious goals” f to be admitted, the

®
“Problems of Concept and Theory Formation in tlie Social Sciences,”
Science, Language and Human Rights (Philadelphia: American Pliilo-
sophical Association, 1952), p. 63.
t “Another source of complexity and possible misunderstanding is
the
question of whether ego’s orientation to an object must, in whole or
part, be conscious. The answer is quite clear; it is not necessary. The
criterion is acts toward the object in a meaningful way
whether ego
so that reasonable
it is to interpret his action as based in his orienta-
tion as to what the object is, has been, or is expected to be.
(GTA 104) Similar references to unconscious factors abound in
Parsons’ work. Thus he speaks of “evaluation, wliich operates uncon-
sciously, as well as deliberately.” (GTA 14; italics added.) Each of
the factors mentioned by Parsons has to be understood as sometimes
operating unconsciously.
SONfE QUESTIONS ABOUT TABSONS’ THEOHTES * 281

matter looks different. At once we find a strong inclination to say

that every action must be "goal-oriented,” because we are now

dctennined to see ever)' action as if it had an [Link] and conscious
goal. The “principle” now runs the risk of degenerating into a
sterile taulolog)', resulting from a stretching of tlie key terms
("action,” "goal,” etc.) to a point at which they apply to everything
and mean nothing. I suspect an endemic ainhiguity of scope in
Parsons’ use of his key terms, a constant vacillation between narrow
and broad senses.
A different kind of ambiguity springs from the intention to
apply a single system of concepts simultaneously to social systems
as well as to persons (see principle 8, Section III, page 273 supra).
Tliat there are striking analogies between social systems and per-
sons may be freely conceded; yet it is equally obvious tliat concepts
literally applicable to persons cannot be transferred to groups or
other social .systems without systematic alterations in their mean-
ings. An organization cannot literally have a "goal” in tire sense
in wlrich a person has one; it cannot "cathect” (have feelings for
or against) in the same sense in w'hich its officers do; if it "internal-
izes” standards of the enveloping culture, the way tliat tliis comes
about must he substantially different from drat in which a single
man is taught to accept and conform to tire standards of tire groups
to rvhich he belongs. These are metliodological platitudes I would
hesitate to repeat were it not tliat Parsons shows so little arvareness
of them. I am disturbed by the systematic ambiguity tliat pervades
Parsons’ discussions, and the freedom wath which he passes from
when made about persons, to assertions
considerations, plausible
hasang the same verbal form, but necessarily having a different
meaning when applied to social systems.
Arc ihc principles empirical generalizations? I have already
argued that by taking the key terms of Parsons’ scheme in “stretched”
senses, it is possible to conv'ert them into analytic statements, whose
truth is guaranteed by tlie implicit defim’tions of their component
terms. I want now to consider what tlie situation wall be if w-e do
not succumb to the temptations of this sleight-of-hand, but insist
upon attaching rejatir-el)' precise and narrow' senses to “goals,”
and the like. Parsons’ principles can then no longer
“orientations,”
be regarded as universally applicable; but can they not be still
“

282 • Max Black

regarded as empirical generalizations having very wide application?

Could we not say something like the following; Of a very large
class ofhuman actions it is in fact true that they are directed toward
a goal or end-in-view? To make this interpretation work, it would,
of course be essential so to define tlie “class of human actions” in
question that being “directed toward a goal” should not be part
of the definition of that class; but it does not seem impossible to
do tliis. It seems plausible, accordingly, to hold that the principles,
understood in the way sketched above, are true empirical general-
izations of wide scope, and that accordingly, Parsons is right in
his claim to have rooted liis theory in solid fact,
I want to argue, however, that
this is a mistake, though a plausible
one. Consider what
world would be like if tlie alleged “empiri-
tlie

cal generalizations” were false. This requires imagining a world in

which tlie classes of action in which men do have ends-in-view—
sharpening pencils, starting cars, attaching stamps to envelopes,
and so on— occur, without any ends-in-view. The more we try to
imagine such a “world” the more inconceivable it becomes. It
would have to be a world in which something like present human
activity occurred, but in which any reference to “what I am trying
to accomplish” would be utterly pointless. A world in which nobody
would ever be trying to do anything, or to achieve any objective—
a world of aimless activity. Perhaps such a description might fit
an army of robots; but it would certainly be grotesque to apply
it to anything that we would want to call human activity. I am
arguing that close examination will show the concept of “purposive
activity” to be a component in our concept of “human action.” If
this is so, the conception of the principles in question as being
empirical generalizations of wide scope is an illusion. That human
beings often have goals or ends-in-view is not a fact, but rather
something that follows from our conceptions of what it is to be

^ 1 find another writer speaking of “two strategic generalizations”

which he formulates as follows; “(a) Some human behavior is
normatively oriented, being shaped by values, symbols, signs,^ etc.;
(b) most human beings live in groups at any given time in their life
cycles, and their behaviour is influenced by their interactions with
others.” Alvin W. Gouldner, Sociology in the United States (Paris:
UNESCO, 1956), p. 35. I doubt whedier these statements should be
regarded as expressing generalizations.
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PARSONS^ THEORIES * 283

human. And much the same can be said about Parsons’ other
principles.
Summary conclusions. I am forced to conclude that Parsons
principles are not founded in empirical generalizations, in any
plausible sense of “empirical generalizations.” He has provided us
with a web of concepts, whose correspondence witli the concepts

which laymen use for thinking about social relations and human
action is barely disguised by a new terminology.
If tliis verdict should be sustained, some disturbing consequences
would result for Parsons’ claim to have provided a scientific frame-
work for tlie social sciences. For it is easy enough to provide some
set of definitions or some conceptual scheme: the diflSculty is to
provide one that is not capricious or arbitraiy. The supreme virtue
of a scientific classification, whether in physics, chemistry, or biol-
ogy, is that it arises from, and is in some sense demanded by, a
system of well established empirical generalizations and theories.
Mendel^efs classification of the elements, to take a familiar exam-
ple, arises from a wealtli of empirically established regularities
concerning the properties of chemical substances and compounds.
This accounts for its superiority over the earlier classifications of
the alchemists. Similar claims can be made on behalf of the
superiority of biological classifications into species, genera, and
so on, over the crude classifications of commonOnly with
sense:
die gradual discovery of the laws of heredity did become possible
it

to establish a truly scientific way of describing animals and plants.

If the parallel should hold for die social sciences, we would have
to say that die elaboration of a conceptual scheme, such as Parsons
offers us, would have to await a wealdi of well-founded empirical
generalizations. But I have argued that diis is not the way Parsons
proceeds. Perhaps the reason is that the requisite generalizations
are not yet available. But there are no short cuts to a scientific
classification of human actions.

rv. parsons’ conception of the “pattern variables”

The general dieoretical framework I have so far been dis-

cussing resulted from an attempt by specialists in various branches
284 • Max Black

of tlie social sciences “to find the greatest possible measure of

common ground.” * The wealcnesses emphasized above may perhaps
be attributed to this provenance: not rare to find attempts for
it is

the greatest common measure of agreement, in science as in politics,

relying upon a lowest common denominator of significance. To
find a more distinctive and, potentially, more fruitful contribution,
we may turn to Parsons’ exposition of tlie so-called “pattern
variables.” f
It is gratifying to find, for once, a formal definition of a key

term in Parsons’ system: “a pattern variable is a dichotomy, one

side of which must be chosen by an actor before the meaning of
a situation is determinate for him, and thus before he can act wth
respect to that situation.” (GTA 77) Parsons also Ukes to speak of
“dilemmas of choice.” (Am. Soc. Rev. 1953, p. 622).
We gather, then, tliat a pattern variable” is a set of two mutually
exclusive alternatives. But alternative whats? Within the space of
two pages we are told tliat the pattern variables are “characteristics
of value standards,” (GTA 78) “can be used to characterize differ-

ences of empirical structure,” (GTA 79) are “categories” (ibid.)

and “inherently patterns of cultural value-orientation” {ibid.; italics
added in each quotation). Wliatever else they may be, diese
elusive “pattern variables” have an amazing power to be different
things on different occasions. I think it would not be unfair to
call tliem “chameleon concepts.” For some of the ambiguities infect-
ing tliem are certainly intentional: on the same page, we find one
of tire alternatives of the first “pattern variable” called a “normative
pattern” (in its “cultural aspect”), a “need-disposition” (in its

“personahty aspect”), and a “role-expectation” (in its “social system

aspect”). Here we have an extreme instance of the “systematic
ambiguity” to wliich I drew attention above.
At tlie risk of ignoring a great deal of what Parsons himself
•

regards as of crucial importance for his system, I shall now confine

“Some Comments,” p. 621.

® Parsons,

1“The core of the more personal contributions wliich Shils and I have
made is to be found, in our opinion, in what we have called the
‘pattern variables.’
” Parsons, op. cit., p. 622.
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PARSONS THEORIES
• 285

my remarks to the meaning of the expression 'pattern variable'

when applied to single persons. Here, we might take a pattern
variable to be:

a set of two mutually exclusive kinds of choice that face any

given individual prior to action.

A secondary meaning, that is sometimes appropriate for under-

standing Parsons, is:

a set of two expressions standing for the mutually exclusive

1. kinds of choice just mentioned.

We can now tabulate die types of choice presented by Parsons

as follows:

2.

TO CHOOSE
EITHER OR
to get immediate gratification to exercise self-restraint in die light
of long-term considerations
( “affectivity— affective neutrality”)
3.

TO CHOOSE
EITHER OR
to serve self-interest to serve die interest of a group to
whidi one belongs
“seff-orientation— collective-orientation”

TO CHOOSE
EITHER OR
to treatan object or another per- to take account of the particular re-
son as falling under some general lations in which the object or person
principle in which there is no stands in relation to oneself
reference to oneself
“transcendence-immanence”
286 • Max Black

TO CHOOSE
EITHER OR
4. to treat an object or another per- to treat it or him in the light of
son in the light of “what it is” what it or he may be expected to do
(its supposed qualities)

“ascription— achievement”

TO CHOOSE
EITHER OR
to respond to many aspects of to respond to some selection of tliose
the object or person aspects.
“diffuseness— specificity”

In discussing the above scheme of classification, I shall be par-

ticularly concerned to decide whetlier Parsons is right in his claim
that the sets of alternatives offered constitute a “system covering
allthe fundamental alternatives which can arise directly out of the
frame of reference for the theory of action.” (GTA 88) But I shall
not confine myself to this question alone.

Miscellaneous Comments on the Pattern Variable Scheme

1. The entire upon the supposition of choices made

scheme rests
by a given person in a social situation. Now, if “choice” were
understood in a narrow and emphatic sense, it would be patently
false to say tliat everybody has to make five choices of die kinds
sketched above. Only very rarely is it the case, for [Link], that
anybody chooses to behave selfishly rather than altruistically (cf.
the second pair of alternatives in die last section). But once wc
admit “choices explicit or implicit,” (GTA 78, italics added) a dis-
turbing element of the fictitious is allowed to enter at the ground
floor. Hero we have anodier striking instance of ambiguity in

Parsons’ thought.
2. It imagine more distressing choices of
would be hard to
technical terms for labeling the distinctions invoked. Apart from
being barbarous neologisms, and correspondingly hard to remem-
ber, they have a pronounced tendency to suggest misleading or
SOME QUESTIONS ABOUT PABSONS’ THEORIES * 287

irrelevant associations. Tliesc severe practical inconveniences are

exacerbated by Parsons’ habit of using a variety of different descrip-
tions to characterize what intended to be a single item in tlie
is

scheme of classification. For example, Parsons talks of the first horn

of the first dilemma in terms of “impulse” and “gratification and
“pennissiveness.” Even if these are inseparable, they are not identi-
cal. To use them indifferently as defining characteristics is to invite

gratuitous confusion.
3. An demands that a single
ancient principle of classification
intelligible principle of organization ( a single “jundamentnm divi-
f^ionts”) .shall govern the scheme proposed. Now Parsons’ scheme

scorns to use different types of principles at each step; the relation

between the various principles remains obscure, in spite of numer-
ous [Link] remarks by their author.
4. Parsons insists that “the variables as we have stated them are

dichotomies and not continua.” ( GTA 91 ) I do not understand why

he should regard this as important. Whatever tlie reasons for his
contention, it seems plainly false in respect of some of the sets of
alternatives. Thus, the fifth “dilemma” (“dififuseness-specificity”) is
obviously a matter of degree, and is even presented as such: "how
broadhj is he (the actor) to allow himself to be involved with
the object?” (GTA 83; italics added).
Arc the pattern variables required by the general theory? Parsons
repeatedly says that the pattern variables are required by the gen-
eral tlieory: “the five pattern variables formulate five fundamental
choices which must be made hy an actor when he is confronted
\rith a situation.” (GTA
88) To this tire followang objections may
be raised: (1) Gir’en that the “evaluative mode of orientation” is
regarded as a kind of controller of the other two, there should be
three t}-pes of choices connected wath tlrese modes— that is to say,
to evaluate or not to evaluate, and if the second, to prefer the
cognitive orientation to the cathectic, or not. Parsons’ objection tliat
the “cognitive and cathectic modes of motivational orientation are
so inseparable as to abnegate [obviate?] any problem of primacy”
(GIA 88-9) seems to me dogmatic. Once it is recognized tliat all
the “choices” to which he refers involv’c tlie more-or-Iess, there
seems no reason for not also recognizing a “cognitive— cathectic”
dilemma.
288 • Max Black

When Ave turn to the “dilemmas” that concern attitudes toward

the “object” (the last three of the five dilemmas) Parsons’ pro-
cedure appears even more arbitrary. For it is easy to think of any
number of other ways of classifying the selected attitude of the
-

“actor” to his objects. Why not introduce the “choice” between

treating the object as a person or as a member of some social
system? Or between taking account of or ignoring another person’s
“evaluative” aspects? Or, to instance an altogether different type
of choice, between considering short-term factors and long-term
ones? Some of tliese suggestions may seem pointless to anybody
who wishes to control some empirical field of social research. It is

not my purpose to offer them as serious alternatives, but merely to

illustrate my contention tliat Parsons’ own choices are not dictated
by exigencies of logic and formal completeness, but at best corre-
spond to what he regards as worth emphasizing within the web
of interlocking concepts he has delineated.'*

y. CONCLUDING REMARKS

I have now come to the end of what has been a laborious

investigation. By directing attention to vulnerable aspects of Parsons’
theory, I have run the risk of seeming to neglect the many provoca-
tive remarks about special topics which make his prolific output
of papers and books valuable. But I am sure he would liimself
wish to be judged by the contributions he has hoped to make to
the integration of the social sciences. I have tried to show why
I judged this attempt to have been less tlian successful. And I have
not concealed my dismay at the conceptual confusions that in my
judgment pervade tlie entii'e structure. Whether it would be pos-

sible to introduce the requisite clarity into Parsons’ system without

altering its objectives or its main features, I seriously doubt. Indeed,
I am inclined to wonder whetlier the social sciences are yet ripe for
the kind of theory that Parsons and his associates have been seeking
to construct.

® It is interesting in this connection to notice that Parsons now

recognizes six pattern variables. See Parsons, “Some Comments,

p. 624.
0

1
SOCIOLOGY
Andrew Hacker

t” AND
IDEOLOGY
o

In 1872 Karl Marx stood up before a public meeting at

Tlie Hague and uttered the followdng words: *‘We know

that the institutions, manners and customs of the various
countries must be considered, and we do not deny tliat
tl\cre are countries, like England and America, where
. , ,

^
the worker may attain his object by peaceful means/' It

is remarks like this which turn scholarly heads gray. For

in the space of several seconds Marx tore an all but fatal

gash in the theory of histor)^ he had so painstakingly
developed in liis formal writings. The bourgeois state and
societ}% Marx had insisted, had to be overturned by force
and violence if the w^orldng class was to inaugurate an
effective dictatorship as a prelude to the communist Utopia.
Violent means were imperativ^e if the values and institutions
of capitalism were to be obliterated for all time: the bour-
geoisie w’ould not mend its w^ays voluntarily and, unless
destroyed, w’ould bend every effort to sabotage the socialist
revolution. This, at least, is the substance of Marx's theor)\

• Quoted in Hans Kcben, The Political Theory

of Bolshevism {Berke-
ley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1948), p. 41.
290 • Andrew Hacker

The conscientious scholar, well versed in the theoretical literature

of Marxism, might wish that Marx had never shown up at that meet-
ing at The Hague: the remark about “peaceful means,” despite the
qualifications about national variations, simply does not fit into the
general theory of history. Conscience, of course, precludes the con-
cealing of uncomfortable evidence. Perhaps there were two Marxes
—Marx the academic theorist and Marx the organizer of the First
International. Perhaps, and perhaps not. At all events the scholars
position is a diflScult one— and it is not irrelevant to a consideration
of Talcott Parsons.
Parsons has no book entitled Polity and Society, and his brief
remarks on politics in The Social System are clearly undeveloped.
To gain an understanding of his political theory it is necessary
to I'efer to his “Hague Speeches”: occasional papers on a miscellany
of political subjects. Four of tliese essays will be discussed here.
All of them deal with questions of class, power, and politics as
they relate to contemporary American society. Two profess to be
special—that is, political— applications of the general system which
is elaborated in his larger works, and all have the virtue of dealing
witli a specified society so that theoretical conclusions may be
ranged against the available data. Insofar as Parsons’ political anal-
ysis “derived”— a favorite word of Parsons’—from his formal
is

system, an analysis of that analysis may throw some light on assump-

tions which underlie the larger system. But tlie opening caveat is
still and they were written for
in order: these are occasional essays
specifio pm'poses. Students should think twice before using them
as pebbles to derail the Twentieth Century Limited. It may well
be that there are two Parsonses—the political and the sociological,
and the two have yet to meet in a consistent way. This paper will
attempt to show a number of junctures at which his politics and
sociology are significantly relevant to each other.

The “conservative" bias in Parsons’ writings has been remarked

upon by more than one commentator.® The central place he gives

See Lewis A. Coser, The Functions of Social Conflict (Glencoe, 111.:

**

Free Press, 1956), pp. 21-24; Barrington Moore, Political Power and
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY * 291

to a tlieory of ^‘equilibrium” in his system is made to be convincing

evidence tliat the emphasis is on underlying social consensus rather

than on continual, even irreconcilable, conflict. Insofar as the equi-

librium idea is considered here, it ^vill be with reference to Parsons
view of American politics, and not liis social system as a whole. It
should be pointed out right now
the epitliet “conservative
tliat

is a deceptive one, and one undeserved by Parsons. Wliile he

shares some of tlie philosophical assumptions of a man hke Edmund

Burke— and be noted—he is on tlie whole a “liberal.” This
tliese will

ideological commitment appears at tsvo levels. On tlie more transi-

tory plane Parsons’ liberalism expresses itself in a partisan sense:
in liis approach to proper functions of government he is sym-
tlie

pathetic to a greater— but not overextended— assumption of public

responsibilities for the general welfare. he is one
To be specific,

of the liberal-intellectuals of the Democratic Party, one of tlie

Eggheads. In a more profound sense his liberalism is more liis-
torically based: it is tlie ideology of John Locke and John Stuart
Mill, the ideology of political liberty and a free society. The two
liberahsms, of course, go hand in hand, but it is best to keep them
analytically separate in this discussion. It does not matter which
label is attached to an individual’s political thinking so long as we
are aware of the substance of his ideas. It will, for purposes of
convenience, be proposed that Parsons is a liberal: that his view
of society is the conventional hberal one that has characterized
academic tliinking in the social sciences.
In 1955 Parsons wrote an article for The Yale Review entitled
“Social Strains in America,” dealing vrith the problem of the attack
on civil liberties which was then overt and widespread. Far from
being a facile joumahstic attack on the Wisconsin demagogue, it
was a sophisticated analysis of tensions underlying recent American
development. “McCarthyism can be understood as a relatively
acute symptom of tlie strains which accompany a major change in
the situation and structure of American society,” he says. “The
strains to which I refer derive primarily from conflicts between the
demands imposed by the new situation and the inertia of tliose

SocifliTheory (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1958), pp.

122-25; C. Wright Mills, The Sociological Imagination (New York:
Oxford University Press, 1959), pp. 44-49.
292 • Andrew Hacker

elements of our social structure wliicli are most resistant to the

necessary changes.” * The new situation revolves largely about
tlie fact tliat America has assumed global responsibihties wliich

are both expensive and hazardous. By no means all Americans are

as yet accustomed to this unsettled condition, and the fear of
defeat at Soviet hands engenders anxieties at both conscious and
unconscious levels. On the structural level there is the rapid growtli
of industriahzation, but a growth without tlie stabilizing element
of an antecedent feudal class structure. The
result has been the
emergence of an open society which, to put it simply, is too open.
The class structure, such as it is, is based almost entirely on occupa-
tional roles: tliis means that individuals find tlieir expectations in
life but weakly established, and their aspirations frequently frus-

trated. In a more specific vein, Parsons points out that many busi-
nessmen are angered about increasing government intervention in
their hitherto private affairs. New men of economic power in the
hinterland are jealous of the influence and prestige still possessed
by the old families of the Eastern Seaboard. Children of immigrant
parents are stiff sensitive concerning their full acceptance as first-

class citizens, and tend to react by demonstrating a hyper-patriotic

outlook. And a large group in American society has been able to
rise in economic and social status as a result of industrial prosperity
and the white-collar explosion, yet they often feel neglected when
power and privileges are bestowed. This analysis is an imaginative
one, and Pai'sons has a clear view of the sources and manifestations
of serious strains in American life. He proceeds to show how these
unrelieved tensions provided a large, if miscellaneous, constituency
of support for McCarthyism. Compulsive concern about loyalty
and security, treasonand subversion, and about the softness of
traditional leadership and the need for hardheaded measures— all
of tliese were not passing political phases, but “symptoms of a proc-
ess in American society of some deep and general significance.” f
To write this way is to write of a fundamental social disequilib-
rium. McCarthy himself has passed from the scene. And McCarthy-

“ Talcott Parsons, “Social Strains in America,” reprinted in Daniel

Bell, ed., The New American Right (New York: Criterion Books,
1955), pp. 117-18.
1 Ibid., p. 117.
SOaOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY * 293

ism has either subsided or been institutionalized in our social

structure and internalized in our personalities. The importance of
Parsons’ essay lies in its discussion of important social forces of
which McCarthyism was only a symptom. The alleviation of symp-
toms—in this case the censure of McCartliy—must never be con-
fused with fundamental cure. It is of some interest that Parsons

has not returned, since McCarthy’s demise, to a consideration of

the strains he so well outlined in 1955. If they are as deep-seated
as he made them out to be, they cannot be ignored once their most
disruptive symptoms have declined. It will therefore be worth the
time to refer to some of tlie questions diat Parsons raised. The
McCartliyite constituency to wliich Parsons alluded consisted, on
and tlie unsuccessful,
the whole, of two major groups: the successful
the upwardly and downwardly mobile. At the same time the
movement’s supporters may be divided into his vocal and virulent
supporters, on die one hand, and those who gave him dieir tacit
consent, on the odier. The individuals who should be given careful
attention are the successful Americans who oflFered dieir silent
approval to die McCarthy crusade. There no disputing diat in
is

the postwar years millions of individuals have experienced a rise

in status. They have moved out of old neighborhods; they have
put on white collars; they have been able to surround themselves
with material comforts; and they have created a new image of
themselves and new expectations for their children. 'What has also
occurred is that diese Americans have begun to take seriously their
status as first-class citizens. This development is more startling
than it might at first glance seem. For 150 years the American
creed talked die rhetoric of equality, but these sentiments were
never ex'pected to be taken at face value by die great part of the
population. Now, however, new millions of Americans are in a
position to demand diat equality. They are no longer illiterate
immigrants huddled in the urban slums, diey are no longer marginal
farmers forgotten in the rural countryside. They are now, American
citizens: middle class and not a litde arrogant about it. Problems
arise because there has been a political lag in the course of tliis
social advance. The promises inherent in die rhetoric of political .

equality have not been fulfilled, or not delivered to the extent

diat first-class citizens have come to expect. In political terms
the
294 • Andrew Hacker

emerging middle class remains relatively powerless. It is unorgan-

ized, inarticulate, and incapable of promoting its political interests.
Indeed, its "interests" are so generalized and inchoate that it is
hard to know where to begin securing them.*
These people, although Parsons did not say much about them,
were the real supporters of the McCarthy movement. Too concerned
with being respectable, they did not go to meetings, join organiza-
tions, or write letters to the newspapers— either for or against him.
It was their political silence and inactivity, however, which gave
free rein to an era of demagogy. And it is now relevant to suggest
that this constituency,
approaching majority status in the
fast
country, will be the source of furtlier strains. Only two will be
mentioned here, but otliers may come to mind.
The first is in tlie area of race relations, especially in the Nortli.
Things are going to get a lot worse, and it is not at all self-evident
that they are going to get better in the foreseeable future. If tliere
is one sword which hangs over the heads of untold millions of

white— and northern—Americans it is tliat they cannot afford to live

in close proximity to Negroes. The single social fact which can
destroy tlie whole image of middle class respectablity is to be
known to reside in a neighborhood which has Negroes nearby.
Pollsters’notebooks are filled to overflow Avith the rationalizations
supposedly impelling the flight; the danger of violence, overcrowded
schools, not enough green grass and fresh air, and so forth.f But
the simple answer is that these Americans are too insecure in their
newly won status, too fearful of the opinions of otliers, too ready
to take the easiest and available way out. Not simply our great
cities, but all urban areas are developing racial ghettoes with

inadequate social services and slender opportunities for escape for

tliose who must stay behind. And our burgeoning suburbs have
become monuments to white anxiety. The problem is a national
one, and it is bound to become exacerbated as more white Ameri-

* The terra “interest” is being used here in tlie sense that James
Madison intended in the Tenth and Fifty-First Federalist Papers. For
a further explanation see Andrew Hacker, Politics and the Corporation
(New York: Fund for tlie Republic, 1958), pp. 4-11.
t See the Report of tlie Comnaission on Race and Housing
entitled

Where Shall We Live? (Berkeley and Los Ajigeles: University of

California Press, 1958).
SOCIOLOGY AND mEOLOGY • 295

cans are drawn into the middle class. For tlois class-status is too
easily attained, too unstructured, to give those who enter it a
sense of psychological security. The decision to move to a suburb is
no solution to the basic problem. The answer must be political
and is yet to emerge.
The second area of strain has to do with the quality of culture.
At one time in our liistory the constituency for Icnowledge and
serious learningwas a small one. The proportion of die population
which went to college, which read important books and periodicals,
and which generally partook of high culture was comparatively
minute. Wi& such a small and appreciative clientele, disciplined
standards could be both set and met. All of this is being altered,
and for good reason. The citizens of the new social democracy
demand not only a high school education, but also college admission
for themselves and their children. And the simple fact is that most
"
of these people— Fortune magazine calls them "tlie new masses”
—are not equipped for serious or disciplined learning. When culture
has a small, selective, and privileged constituency, it is possible to
keep standards high: as the constituency is enlarged to many times
its original size, the distribution of aptitudes and motivations is

bound to be far wider and the mean far lower. Nevertheless, these
new citizens demand admission to the citadels of knowledge, and
once diey are there they pull requirements down to a level they
can handle. The point, in short, is that die new middle class is
too large and too poorly motivated to live by tlie traditional injunc-
tions of quality. Arguments about tlie number of "classical” records
and local symphony orchestras, about tlie number of “good” paper-
back books and local little theatres, are more wisliful thinking than
serious analysis.! American culture is increasingly yielding to
majority wishes, increasingly being defined in mass terms. Even the
most venerable of schools and universities cannot but be swayed by
the demands of a buyers’ market. This, then, is anotlier consequence
of making real the doctrine of equality of opportunity. Social

“ Daniel Seligman,"Hie New Masses,” Fortune, 59:106 ff. (1959).

1 See Bernard Rosenberg and David Manning White, eds.. Mass
Culture (Glencoe, 111.: Free Press, 1957), especially the
essays by
Rosenberg, Dwight MacDonald, and Melvin Tumin, at
pp. 3-12^
59-73, and 548-56 respectively.
296 • Andrew Hacker

democracy and cultural majority rule produce strains less virulent

than McCctrtliyism and less noisome than the race discrimination,
but serious enough to warrant attention. And these tensions, too,
ultimately have a political content.

2
It is no criticism of Parsons to point out that since the time of
McCarthy he has not written articles on other strains in American
But what is of interest is that since that time he has all but
life.

forgotten the structural factors which underpinned liis analysis of

the McCartliyite tensions. It has been suggested tliat these forces
still exist and that they \vill continue to manifest tliemselves for
a long period to come. And the key question for theory, of course,
Concerns what is going to emerge in the future. The writings of the
great political theorists had two characteristics. On the one hand
they were startling: tliey told us something new and unorthodox
about the society we thought we understood. And on tlie other
hand they stuck their necks out: they ventured a prediction about
the future direction of social and political development. Parsons’
work, if it is to have lasting value, must be assessed on both of
these grounds.
There is, first, the question of social class. In a paper entitled
“Social Classesand Class Conflict,” delivered before the American
Economic he offered a critical and yet sympathetic
Association,
analysis of some features of Marxian theory. After examining the
strengths and weaknesses of Marx’s approach. Parsons then pro-
ceeds to his own
consideration of class conflict in modern, indus-
tralized societies. The root of the matter, as he sees it, lies in the
tension between the emphasis on individual attainment and the
imperatives of bureaucratic organization. “The status of the indi-
vidual,” he says, “must be determined on grounds essentially

peculiar to himself, notably Iris own personal qualities, technical

competence, and his own decisions about his occupational career
and with respect which he is not identified with any solidar)'
to
group.” (Essays II 327) At the same time tliere arises a complex
of organizational structures which have the power to direct signifi-
cant elements in the lives of individuals. “Organization on an ever
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY * 297

increasing scale . . . naturally involves centralization and differ-

entiation of leadership and authority,” Parsons says, “so that those

who take responsibilit)’’ for coordinating the actions of many others
must have a different status in important respects from those who
are essentially in the role of carrying out specifications laid down
by otliers.” (Essay's II 327) Apart from the empirical question of
how many individuals are affected by' these organizational impera-
tives and towhat degree, there is little to argue about in these
descriptiv'e propositions. There then follows a listing of the “prin-

cipal aspects of the tendency' to develop class conflict in our ly'pe

of social sy'stem.” (Essays II 329-32) These may be summarized:

(1) In a competitive occupational sy'stcm there will be losers as
well as winners. (2) Organization enttiils [Link] and authority,
and there will be resistance to the [Link] of this power. (3) Indi-
viduals fav'ored by' strategic locaHon can [Link] those less fortu-
nately' placed. (4) Varied and conflicting ideologies emerge in a
differentiated socialstructure. (5) Patterns of family' life and
attitude-formation in tlie y'oung will vary' as between social classes.
(6) The promise of equal opportunity for all will be thwarted.
Parsons acknow'ledges his indebtedness to Manx wherever appro-
priate (and it w'ould be pleasant if more social scientists w'cre
secure enough to be able to do the same), and he also quite
properly indicates that Manx’s theory' is insufficient to [Link] the
contemporary' world. Indeed, what social science most surely' needs
is a new Manxism: a new .sy'stemalic theory which postulates [Link]

and effect and which commits itself on the future development of

society. Such a tlieory', howev'er, needs what for lack of a better
term may' be called a source of energy'. The common criticism of
Marx is that he had but a single, determinist idea at the core of
his thinking. But at least it was an idea of some power, and he
was able to develop the rest of his thoughts around it. The diffi-
culty w-ith Parsons’ scheme is that he has too many ideas w'hich
interact on a parity of causal significance. It might be asked which
one of tlie sLx “principal aspects” of class conflict is most important,

which one-if any-is causal with relation to the rest. One is

tempted to conclude that until Parsons is prepared to be a little
less conventional, a little more daring, we will not have a pioneer-
ing [Link] of social strains or class conflict. might, indeed. We
298 • Andrew Hacker

ask whether the social strains America has been experiencing are
instances of class conflict in modem dress. The new middle class
has many of the attributes of an ahenated proletariat, albeit a
proletariat \wth white collars. However, there is lacking a class-
consciousness in any political sense; and the exploitation of a
bourgeois class has been replaced by the discipline and autliority
of impersonal corporate institutions. Many important political ques-
tions are raised here, and it may be hoped that Parsons will turn
to them before long.

One obstacle to a Parsonian theory of class and power may not

be easy to overcome. Social scientists, whether they acknowledge it

or not, cannot help being bearers of an ideology— although the

ideology will, from person to person. Ideology,
of course, differ
for present purposes, may be thought
of as having two components.
It is, first of all, purportedly normative, composed of philosophical
propositions which are actually rationahzations for preserving the
status quo or attaining a new set of social arrangements. Second,
ideology is purportedly an unintentionally distorted pic-
scientific:
ture of social reahty, tlie distortion arising because the observ'er
sees what he wants to see. Any theory which combines fact and
norm, whether by accident or design, mns the risk of forcing
descriptive reality into the Procrustean bed of ideology. This is

probably inevitable, and it is certainly not to be condemned out

of hand. Indeed, the real test is not whetlier fact or norm is
tainted with ideology, but whether the ideology itself is a viable
one.*
The ideological overtones in Parsons’ political tliinking come to
“
lightmost vividly in his essay on ‘Voting’ and the Equilibrium of
the American Party System.” Tliis is ostensibly a review-article.

® Jeremy Bentliam put it this way: “No wonder then, in a treatise

partly of the expositonj davSs, and partly of tJie censorial, tlial if die

latter department is filled witli imbecility, symptoms of kindred weak-

ness should characterize tlie former.” A Fragment on Government,
edited by Wilfrid Harrison (Oxford: Blackivell, 1948), p. 14.
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY • 299

drawing on the Elmira study of Berelson, Lazarsfeld, and McPliee.*

Actually, however, Parsons uses only those data which are helpful
to his own analysis of tlie party system in the United States; and
he gives no evidence of a familiarity with the voluminous hterature
on party poHtics which has accumulated in the postwar years. His
government as
particular interest in tlie process of representative
it relates to social stability. “My point of reference will be the

capacity of a social system to get things done in its collective

interest,” Parsons says. “Hence power involves a special problem
of the integration of the system, including the binding of its units,

individual and commitments.”! It is

collective, to the necessary
done through the medium of the
Parsons^ view tliat things do get
party system and that the system does remain integrated. To con-
clude this' however, is to make
number of important assumptions:
a
about what ought to be done, what can be done, and the effective-
what
ness of is done. There is, furthermore, the assumption that
what we see at work is actually the process of representative
government. To begin with tlie last of tliese, Parsons believes that
the institutions of political democracy play an important and effec-
tive role in the exercise of power in society. The chief of these
institutions is the vote as it is exercised through the party system.

“Voting is the centi*al focus of the process of selection of leadership

and hence in one sense all otlier influences must channel their
effectsthrough the voting process,” he says. “The two-party system
may be regarded as a mechanism that makes possible a certain
balance between effectiveness tlirough a relative centralization of
power, and mobihzation of support from different sources in such
a way that the supporter is offered a real alternative.” $ Wliile
. . .

this description of voting and the party system in America is admi-

rable from the standpoint of normative democratic theory—the

VTitings of Robert Maciver or Ernest Barker, for example—it bears
small relation to how these institutions operate.

* Bernard R. Berelson, Paul

F. Lazarsfeld, and William N. McPhee,
Voting: A Study of Opinion Formation in a Presidential Campaign
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1954).
“
f Talcott Parsons, ‘Voting', and the Equilibrium of the American
Political System/' Eugene Burdick and Artliur Brodbeck, eds., J.
American Voting Behavior (Glencoe, 111.; Free Press, 1959). p. 81.
\ Ibid., pp. 86, 87.
300 • Andrew Hacker

The point is not tliat Parsons has got his facts wrong: actually
the interpretation of reahty is far from settled in this area. What is
important is that Parsons has come to his particular interpretation
and that he has seen fit to reject other alternatives. And it follows
that he has chosen to emphasize certain facts and to ignore others.
The question, to repeat, is why he sees what he does and why
he turns a blind eye in other directions. A few comments on matters
of fact— or the interpretation of fact—may be in order. The selection
of leadership by means of the vote, it may be argued, only assumes
significance in limited cases: if the two individuals on the slate
of candidates selected by the two party organizations offer a real
choice in terms of their stands on matters of policy. Usually they
do not. In most parts of the country the bearer of the party label
traditional to that area wins automatically. In most contested dis-
tricts the tendency is for candidates to be essentially similar because

both must appeal to the same heterogeneous electorate. On the

national scene it is possible to claim that American voters have
not been offered a “real alternative” since Bryan ran against
McKinley in 1896. (It turned out that they had a real choice in
1932, but the voters did not know it while the campaign was
going on.) Furthermore, it is quite plausible to suggest that the
major interests which exercise an influence in the making of public
pohcy make their weight felt regardless of die candidates the
voters happen to put in oflBce. Such interests are studiously non-
partisan and they are quite ready to approach policy-makers no
matter wliich party label they happen to bear. Tliese are only a
few alternative interpretations of the voting and party processes,
and space forbids elaborating on these or otliers at this time.
The reason why Parsons presents such a one-sided picture can
only be a subject for speculation. His chief concern, it would ap-
pear, is to show that the American political system is a democratic
one at base. He
wishes to present a persuasive case to the effect
that the public has power and that it uses this power to govern
itself. The voter, in short, can use his ballot as an instrument
for

compelhng his rulers to make policy responsive to his wishes. “He

receives Ae expectation that many kinds of measures that he

approves will be implemented if his candidate wins, but without

SOCIOLOGY AND rOEOLOGY * 301

exact specification of particular policies/’ Parsons says." But even

diis carefully qualified statement, it may once again be suggested,
describes tlie ideal rather than the real. Voters continue to expect
that promises will be delivered—their faitli, altliough occasionally
tinged by cynicism, self-renewng—but even tliose who support
is

the victors are usually disappointed. Taxes are not cut, the cost of
living continues to rise, unemployment is never fully abolished,
peace with honor remains an unfulfilled hope. And when it comes
to even more subtle issues, issues between tire lines of die formal
platforms and speeches, our political institutions have shown them-
selves incapable of rising to the challenge. Parsons, however, is

content ivith In terms of the mechanisms of repre-

what he sees.

sentative government and in terms of the substance of public

policy, he sets his standard for optimum performance at a fairly
low level. "The essential point is that new things do get done and
tliat the consequences do come to be accepted,” he says. "In
view of what sociologists now know of the intensity of the tensions
and stresses generated by major processes of social change, the
relative effectiveness of this set of mechanisms is impressive.” f
What makes tliem look impressive is fliat Parsons believes tliey
have been subjected to a rigorous test and have passed that exam-
ination successfully.
An example of tliis testing is the New Deal, with business regu-
lation and “The Federal Reserve Act,
social welfare legislation.
the Securities Exchange Act, the Wagner Act, and the Social
Security Act, were all Democratic measures— every one of which
was strongly contested by the Republican party,” Parsons says.
“Every one of tlrem has come to be fundamentally accepted by
tliat party with no attempt to undo the work.”
J As a factual
proposition tliis is of course true. What Parsons finds impressive

"
**
Parsons, 'Voting’ and the Equilibrium of the American Party
System,” p. 90.
1 Ibid., p. 112.
t Ibid., p. 111. The “Democratic party” which Parsons refers to in
generalized terms is actually the liberal— and minority— wing of the
party. Like most liberal Democrats, Parsons would like to believe
tliat his image of tlie party is the real one. The record of Uie
Demo-
crats in die Congress over die past twenty years, however, shows that
the reality lies elsewhere.
302 • Andrew Hacker

is the fact the Republicans accepted these laws, that the

tliat

business community in particular did not resort to extra-constitu-

tional means when they were put on the statute books. An alterna-
tive view would suggest that the limits of the American political
consensus has not been tested since the close of the Civil War.
What Parsons and other liberals Hke to think of as business regula-
tion is, despite the predictable complaints of businessmen, more
a paper tiger than an eflFective system of economic controls in the
public interest. A few questions may be asked about these sup-
posed powers of the national government. Can any public agency
deteimine the level of wages, of prices, of profits? Can it, perhaps
more important, and direction of capital invest-
specify tlie level

ment? Can any government bureau allocate raw materials or con-

trol plant location? Can it in any way guarantee full employment
or the rate of economic growth? Has any suit of the Anti-Trust
Division actually broken up one of our large corporations in an
appreciable way? The simple answer is that measures such as

these are neither possible under tire laws nor do we know what
the reaction to them would be. And what Parsons chooses to call
welfare legislation is, despite tlie partisan panegyrics of New Deal
Democrats, more a humane hope than a realized system of eco-
nomic security. Several questions may once again be posed. What
proportion of low-income Americans live in rural or urban slums
and what proportion are in government housing projects? Wliat
source of income is there for a man who is out of work after his
13 or 26 weeks of unemployment compensation expires? Wliat
standard of life can be maintained on the social security pension
an individual may receive at 65 and how many Americans do not
have additional sources of income? If a family is visited with a
really serious and extended illness, where can a citizen get medical
care other than in a charity ward? Just what can a widow or a
deserted mother with three small children expect as a right from
her government? Any serious study of these matters will show
that the so-called welfare state oflEers a slender mite ideed.
In making judgments in an area hke this, one can be a Burke
or a Bentham, but in neither case is one a social scientist. To a

Burkean what has been done looks impressive; to a Benthamite

what remains to be done looks formidable. Parsons is pleased with
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY * 303

what has been accomplished: to his mind it is quite a feat that

so muclj has been done without rending the Republic, His evidence
that the limit has been reached is that businessmen complained so
bitterly about even minimal regulation and welfare measures. Tins,
it may be suggested, is no test at all. Businessmen complain without

surcease, and have been doing so since the time of Adam Smith.*
We do not' know how much they wll take without resorting to
counterrevolution. Parsons' political ^^equilibrium” is, on the one
hand, an acceptance of the economic status quo in its major out-
lines, and, on the other, a cautious espousal of traditional liberahsm.
The latter willbe examined more carefully later on. It might also
be asked whether the government is in a position to do anything
about the ""tensions and stresses generated by major processes of
social change” wliich Parsons himself has discussed. Here the
focus is not on regulatory or welfare problems, but on tlie larger
social strains. If it is not government's, then whose responsibility
is it to remedy the status anxieties, the fragmentation of personality,

and the sense of individual powerlessness brought on by contem-

porar}^ institutions and events?
Parsons lias said that the instrumentality of the vote is important,
but surely there are limits to solving such problems via tlie ballot
box, Tlie forces ivliich led to McCarthyism were not exorcised by
the censure and deatli of McCarthy. Racial tensions will not be
solved by pleas for tolerance, and the cultural level will not be

® ^^orc tlian a century ago Charles Dickens could report: '*SureIy

tliercnever was such a fragile china-ware as tliat of which the millers
of Coketown were made. Handle them never so lightly, and they fell
to pieces witli such ease that you might suspect tliem of having been
ilawcd before. They were ruined, when diey were required to send
labounng children to school; Uiey were ruined when inspectors were
appointed to look into tlieir works; they were ruined, when such
Inspectors considered it doubtful whellier they were quite justified
in chopping people up with their machineiy; they were utterly un-
done, when it was hinted that perhaps they need not always make
quite so much smoke- . Wlienover a Coketowmer felt he was ill-
. ,

used-that is to say, whenever he was not left entirely alone, and it

was proposed to hold him accountable for the consequences of any
of his acts--he was sure to come out witli the awful menace, tliat he
would ‘sooner pilcli liis property into tlie Atlantic.’ Hus had terrified
the Home Sccrctaiy^ witliin an inch of his life, on several occasions.”
From Herd Times (1854),
304 • Andrew Hacker

raised by pleas for internal discipline. Our political institutions,

as now constituted, are too free and too democratic
to handle these
problems of status and personality. Serious questions must be
raised about democracy and freedom. Wliat is revealing is that
Parsons evades these questions altogether. The solutions provided by
communism and fascism are abhorrent; those proposed by classical
conservatism and socialism are pre-industrial and hence Utopian.
There is notliing wrong with talk of “equilibrium” if its base point
is reasonably up to date. Parsons may, like many be fearful
of us,
of what the future will bring. But that is no excuse for designing a
political theory which stands still.

Parsons’ nostalgia for the past and his acceptance of present

arangements are brought out most clearly in his article-review of C.
Wright Mills’ The Power Elite.*" Mills’ book, one of the most chal-
lenging to appear since tlie end of World War II, speaks a language
wliich is harsh and alien to Parsons’ ears. It is interesting to see
what Parsons makes of these arguments, for in a real sense we have
here a confrontation of liberal and radical thinking. It is not
surprising that Parsons fails to understand much of what Mills has
to say. The discussion of who the members of the power elite are

is neglected in order to make the ratlier obvious point that America

is no longer ruled by a property-owning class. And as for Mills’
important chapter on mass society. Parsons thinks it has to do
mainly with mass media and he does not know what to make of it.
There are comments on the role of women and physicians (they
are socially important); on government economic controls (they are
genuine because businessmen object to them); on Adlai Stevenson
(a favorite of Parsons’); and on the fact tliat Americans have
friends and relations and go to church (so they cannot be as anomic
as is made out). Finally Parsons says that he is not really interested
in how power is distributed—who exercises it over whom and who

C. Wright Mills, The Power Elite (New York: Oxford University

Press, 1956).
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY • 305

has it at whose expense—but rather in how it is produced. ‘Tower

is a generalized facility or resource in tlie society,” he says. It has

to be divided or allocated, but it also has to be produced and it

has collective as well as distributive functions.” * It is clear that
Parsons, for the symmetry of his larger social system, wants to set
up a wealth-power analogy in order to underpin an economics-
politics model. The scheme dictates tliat if wealth must be created
before it is distributed, so must power. Until Parsons can show tliat
it is important to make tliis analytic separation, it will probably be

better to follow men hke Machiavelli and Hobbes who find the
production and distribution of power an identical process. For Par-
sons, however, the dichotomy serves tlie useful purpose of allowing
him to evade the contioversial questions raised by asking who in
America has power and who has not.
Mills’ book is more complex than it seems on the surface and is
not easy for someone reared on liberalism to understand. Parsons
understands tliat something akin to a power elite exists. “The rise
to prominence within the firm of speciahzed executive functions,”
he says, “is a normal outcome of a process of growth in size and in
structural differentiation.” f Tliis is true enough. But Mills’ concern
iswith the great influence tliat the decisions of these top executives
have on the lives of Americans, a power in no way made institu-
tionally responsible. Parsons skirts this problem, and in doing so
implies that he does not tliink it important. And the idea of the
mass society, tlie other side of Mills’ tlieory, receives even less at-
tention from Parsons. There are millions of Americans—the Ameri-
cans described in White Collar, The Organization Man, The Lonelxj
Crowd, and The Status Seekers—who have no significant access to
power.J To Parsons’ mind they have the vote, and this makes them
masters of tlieir destiny. Mills juxtaposes the anonymous and non-
responsible men who lead die great corporate institutions and the

® Talcott Parsons, “The Distribution of Power in American Society,”

World Politics, 10:141 (October 1957).
t Ibid,, p, 129.
t “No social scientist lias yet come up with a tlieory of mass society
that is entirely satisfying ” Irving Howe
but he himself gives a
says;
cogent descripHon of its bare outlines. See his “Mass Society and
Post-War Modem Fiction,” Partisan Beview, 26:426-28 (Summer
306 • Andrew Hacker

cheerful and anxious Americans who are recipients of commands.

All this and more is in Mills’ book, but Parsons is unable or will-
ing to see it. Mills is not so much describing the present as he
is
picking out future tendencies. Because Parsons has no view of the
future himself, he can only quarrel over details. And he can also
“There is,” Parsons says, “the tendency, to tliink
criticize Mills’ tone.
of power as presmnptively illegitimate; if people ‘exercise con-
siderable power, it must be because they have somehow unsurped
it where they had no right and they intend to use it to the detriment

of others.” * When and immorality

Mills finds botli irresponsibility
in the conduct of the power eKte, Parsons becomes a realist and
decries JefiFersonian Utopianism. What is required, he says, is “ob-
jective analysis.”

We have now come full circle. C. Wright Mills is called a

Utopian because he would prefer it if a power elite did not exist.
The question which now has to be put is why Parsons prefers that
McCarthyism and the power behind it not exist. “McCarthyism,” he
says, “is perhaps the major type of ‘pathology’ of our system and,
if not controlled, may have highly disruptive consequences.” f If

McCai'thyism is “pathological,” why not also the Higher Immorality

of a power elite? The use of a clinical term can be deceptive. (Are
race prejudice and mass culture also “pathologies”? Wliat about
labor disputes, juvenile delinquency, isolationism in foreign afFairs,
and tire dearth of good conversation?) It is clear that Parsons is
assuming that certain social arrangements are healthy and others
are not. A good idea of his conception of normality may be gained
if we look at his prescription for the McCarthyite disease. Power

must be met with power: in tliis case the power of tire populace
with the power of—yes—the power elite. “Under American condi-
tions, a politically leading stratum must be made up of a com-

Parsons, “The Distribution of Power in American Society,” p. 140.

“
1 Parsons, ‘Voting’ and the Equilibrium of the American Political
System,” p. 103.
SOCIOLOGY ANB IDEOLOCY * 307

binati'on of businessand non-business elements,” Parsons says. “Tlie

role of the economy in American society and of the business element
in it is such that political leadership wthout prominent business
participation is doomed to ineffectiveness and to the perpetuation
of dangerous internal conflict. It is not possible to lead the Ameri-
® Parsons
can people against the leaders of the business world.”
suggests that business leaders be brought into politics and tliat they
use their social power to quash the popular attack on civil liberties.
This prescription probably reveals better than anytliing which has
been said up to now Parsons’ view of political and social normality.

It is his hope that tlie men in the higher ranks of America’s cor-
porate world are potential defenders of tlie traditional liberal

values.
Historically speaking, such a view of tlie business class is justified.

The Western world was accom-

groui:h of political liberty in tlie
panied b}^ even caused by, the ascent to power of men of property.
This class was informed that irisdom, virtue, and social responsi-
bilit}' were its proper attributes; and in many ways it lived up to

these expectations. Its members put their power and prestige be-
hind the Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and the Common Law.
They were able to do this because tliey were accorded unques-
tioning deference by a public which acknowledged that their betters
ought to attend to matters as important as these. The source of
this class’ power lay in its propert)' ownership and its members’
personal control over elements of the economy. They also supplied
the nation’s diplomats and cabinet members, lawmakers and judges,
financiers and churchmen and scholars. k^Tiile this
industrialists,
class was the custodian of tlie country’s liberty, it was careful not
to overextend its resources in their defense of the rights of in-
dividuals. The railroaded Wobbly in Montana and the emasculated
Negro in Alabama were not encompassed by tlieir power: and tliey
could not find it in their jurisdiction to defend two Italian anarchists
named Sacco and Vanzetti, By and large the freedoms which this
class created were for their owm use; but they were phrased in
unii’crsalistic and equalitarian terms, and there was a residue for
Uie rest of society, Tliis class, also, was the major support of higher

' Parson.'!, “Social Strains in America,” p. 139.

308 • Andrew Hacker

learning and serious culture: here too it was for tlieir own heneBt,
but the standards stood for the communit)' as a whole. The need
for such a ruling class is implicit in Parsons’ notion of political
equilibrium, although it is doubtful if he would acknowledge it— or

if he even reahzes it. What is “pathological” about McCarthyism-

and racial discrimination and mass culture—is that the man in tlie
street is no longer deferring to his betters. In his essay on voting
Parsons says, “In constructing tliis model I have of course leaned
heavily on die literature of political theor}\” ° That literature, from
Plato and Aristotle dirough Locke and Mill, relies on die power of
a secure ruhng class to protect the traditional liberties of a society.
Scholars who have benefited from diis shield, who reside in in-
stitutions which continue to feed on prescriptive deference, may be
excused if tiiey generalize from dieir particular good fortune.f
This America, die creation of die hberal ideology and class struc-
ture, is passing rapidly from die scene. Already the old class has
had to share its power widi die new ehte. Tliis is an elite of talent,
but speciahzed talent. They are the men Mills excoriates and the
men Parsons calls on to take up the defense of political fz-eedom.
However, if any examination is given to the kind of men they arc,
their interests in life and their social backgrounds, the basis on
which diey were selected and their own definition of their roles,
and above all to their unwillingness to entangle witii conti'oversy—
if such study is made, it soon becomes apparent diat these men

have neither die concern nor die motivation to use the power of
their institutions to defend the freedoms so cherished by traditional
hberalism. They define their responsibilities to society in only the
most cautious and conventional of terms. For all the rhetoric about
'“the conscience of the corporation” and “the social responsibilities

of business,” when the chips are down the elite has shown itself un-
willing to oppose the pathological strains which Parsons deplores.

“
® [Link], ‘Voting’ and tlie Equilibrium of the American Political

System,” p. 113.
f For a furtlier development of the ideas in this
paragraph and the
one follownng see Andrew Hacker, “Liberal Democracy and Social
Control,” The American Folitical Science Review, 51:1009-26 (De-
cember, 1957).
SOCIOLOGY AND IDEOLOGY * 309

Wliile this might be expected of tlie old ruling class, it is quite an-
other thing to ask such deeds from the new elite. They simply
would not understand what Parsons is talking about.
Concurrently witli die rise of die elite, the cliildren and grand-
children of a once deferential public are beginning for the first time
to feel their democratic oats. The democracy is more, social than
political, but its consequences cannot be ignored. E^eriencing ten-

sions as diey move into a place in the sun, tiiese people are com-
pelled for the benefit of their own well-being to act in ways that
are inimical to traditional freedoms. Overt pohtical popuhsm is only
sporadic; the defense of a white neighborhood in one instance, the
defeat of a school bond issue in another, obscurantist legislation
from time to time as a third. But society is too bureaucratized for
populist politics to damage the what is far more
structure itself:

fragile is and here the cost

the delicate fabric of traditional hberty,
can be high. The new masses, furthermore, have no vested interest
in such protections as the First Amendment freedoms. For them
freedom is not the right to make a heretical speech, but the right
to move to the suburbs and buy a motorboat. The new and
burgeoning middle class, unlike the old and selective middle class,
is without commitment to political liberty or a culture of quality.

And the new elite, while it exercises control over much of the
economy and society, makes no effort to contain the “pathological”
behavior of new democracy. The cliief explanation for this
tlie is

tliat elite and mass are really not much different so far as tastes or
interests are concerned: the former simply have more important
jobs tlian the latter. Politically and culturally they are quite similar.
Both subscribe to Life magazine.
The ideology underlying is a wortliy one
Parsons’ pohtical theory
in many But liberafism of the eighteenth and nineteenth
respects.
centuries no longer has the structural basis which gave it its
strengtli. The political era into which we are moving will create
its own equilibrium: and both a power elite and a mass society will

play crucial roles in its definition. Neither Mills’ socialism nor Marx’
communism, and hberahsm, will be of much
least of all Parsons’
theoretical help. The
ideological components of Parsons’ thought
do him a disservice not because they are ideological, but because
310 • Andrew Hacker

they refer to a world we have put behind us and to which we can-

not return. The politics he depicts are the politics he would like to
exist, not those we are going to have to live witli. ^^dietlier this
nostalgia for an age of civihty infuses the larger outhnes of his
social system is a question that all students of Parsons ought to
ponder.
THE
Talcott Parsons

I
POINT
I
OF
I
VIEW
!
OF
I
THE
I AUTHOR

a matter o£ great satisfaction to an author to have

It is
the land of serious and competent attention to be paid to
his work of which the present volume is the expression and
product. It is not only the personal honor (which, how-
ever, I greatly appreciate) wliich is the source of satis-
faction, but also the advancement of tlie cause to which
we are all committed, of furthering the development of

scientific theory in the field of human behavior. The very

existence of such a volume is to my mind an important
312 • Talcott Parsons

index of tlie development of an increasingly mature state of the

relevant disciplines.
The nine essays wliich have preceded tliis one, with their gener-
ally high level of competence and seriousness, are also inter-
critical
esting for tlie fact that tliey do not present any unified critical point
of view. They do, of course have a unity, consisting in common
orientation to tlie body of work under consideration, hut their
authors direct attention to so many different aspects and are both
attracted and botliered by so many different features of it that sub-
stantively one can perhaps call the main common focus a deep
concern for the problems of social science, a concern whicli uses
tliis body of material as a reference point.
Confrontation of an autlior with these essays naturally stimulates
reflection both on relevant aspects of his personal intellectual his-
tory and oftlie place of tlie subject matter in the cultural situation

of tlie time. Perhaps I may start with a few observations on the

latter topic, then proceed to a few on the former, and from tliese
pass on to a few essential problems for their owm sake.

One of the indications of the intellectual situation of our time is

tlieprevalence of self-consciousness about what is going on; one

example of tliis in turn which closely touches our owm field is the
development of tlie concern and to some extent the discipline
knoivn as the sociology of knowledge. This has made us acutely
aware of the immense variety of patterns according to which con-
ceptual schemes which have eventually turned out to be scientifi-
cally important, have been received, both in professional circles and
among tliemore general public.
It is almost a commonplace that ideas which entail a major re-
organization of patterns of tliinking in their field are very likely
to encounter severe opposition. This is perhaps tlie more true when
they are ideas directly involved in the structure of the society and
culture in and by which their authors li\'C. Indeed, it seems to me
that this is very relevant to tlie facts, first that it is in the socio-
THE POINT OF VIEW OF TIIE AXJTHOR • 313 -

cultural field tliat genuine science has tended to develop latest,

and second tliat it is in such a very controversial phase at the

present time.
Certain major scientific innovations, however, have from the be-
ginning been acclaimed, at least Nvitliin the relevant professional
groups—important cases would be the Newtonian and Einsteinian
Others, like Mendel’s work in genetics, have for long
theories.
simply failed to excite any interest at all. Still others, like Pasteur’s
tlieory of tlie role of infecting agents in disease, have stirred up
violent controversy and sharp repudiation by at least a large part
of die lelevant professional groups.
In such cases it is understandable that an important part of the
opposition stirred up— as tlie support— should have ideo-
well as of
logical as well as scientific components. This again is particularly
true of social science since it touches so closely the value commit-
ments and other cultural vested interests of contemporary groups.
Perhaps some interpreters of the situation would differ, but it
seems to me to be broadly correct to state three points about the
The first is that the most massive founda-
situation of social science.
tions for the development of modern social science were laid in
England in what can be broadly called the utilitarian movement of
the 18th and 19th centuries—with important Continental connections,
especially witli France. To this impulse may be attributed not only
the firm establishment of economics, and the more "Benthamite”
tradition of political science, but also the foundation of modem
antliropology by Tylor and the very important sociological perspec-
tives of Spencer.

Second, however, the major breaktlrrough into the perspec-

tives which supported the development of the "behavioral sciences”
in the last generation ortwo came, in terms of theory, not from Eng-
land, but from Continental Europe, tlie major figures being Durk-
heim and Max Weber on the one hand, Freud on the other. Tlus
involved contact witli the “idealistic” and collectivistic components
of the traditions of Western thought which were on the whole un-
congenial to the British cast of mind. There was an important,
tliough secondary, breakthrough in the United States wdth the
“social psychology” of such figures as Cooley, Mead and
W. I.
Thomas. Also very important is the extension here of a basically
314 • Talcott Parsons

utilitarian pattern of
thought in the great advance of experimental
psychology in the early part of this century.
In a particularly interesting way the United States has turned
out to be tire principal location in which the development from
these major points of orientation has come to focus. It has above
ali seen an establishment of tlie behavioral sciences on profes-
sional levels which have met with appreciable counterparts in
Europe and those largely under American influence only very re-
cently. The most important phenomena here have been the “draw-
ing up” of sociology, anthropology, and psychology as disciplines to
a place fully equal to those of economics and political science in
the academic hierarchies; their full establishment in the structure
of the universities; and the increased number of quahfled and pro-
fessionally trained personnel.^
Intellectually, this important American development has been
“typically” American in
tliat it has been relatively “pragmatic” to
the point of often appearing to be eclectic. “Schools,” like behavior-
ism in psychology and the Sumner-Keller cult in sociology have
tended to be short-hved. There has been a strong emphasis on
empiricism wliich has motivated a liigh concern, in all related flelds,

with the development of new research techniques.

With respect then to anything Hke general theory, the situation
has become complex. The American intehecfual scene has been
characterized by a marked openness and receptivity. Here it may
be contrasted with what was, until rather recently at least, marked
British traditionahsm, a tendency to hold tliat none of the “new-
fangled” tlieory could possibly be important, and at the same
time a tendency widespread on the Continent for the problems to
be defined predominantly in ideological terms, so that genuinely
technical theoretical discussion has been blocked. Certainly, how-
ever, many particular tenets of the new theoretical corpus have
been received and developed in research, as, for example, Durk-
heim’s concepts of organic soHdarity and anomie, Weber’s concern-
ing btueaucracy, and much in the work of Freud, including its
relevance to the borderlines of sociology and anthropology.

1 1 have some detail for sociolo^ in

tried to delineate this picture in
the paper,“Some Problems Confronting Sociology as a Profession,”
American Sociological Review, August, 1959.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AXJTHOR • 315

Two further very important aspects of American openness have

been a relative immunity to the pressure to put problems in an
ideological context, i.e., a readiness to deal with problems of social
science,and the related willingness to consider relatively particular
and restricted contributions on tlieir merits without worrying too
much about tlie more ‘‘global” problems which lay in the back-
ground. One could thus, for example, under this approach consider
Durkheim on anomie in relation to suicide without worrying too
much, in the Continental intellectuals’ manner, about the special
implications of his version of positivistic philosophy.
The other side of this favorable picture has of course been the
general American skepticism about high levels of generalization.
Hence it way, been an unfavorable intellectual
has, in a certain
climate for the development and propagation of highly general con-
ceptual schemes, since the question is always insistently raised
whether this is necessary or even desirable in any sense. There is
then necessarily in the American situation a set of resistances to the
attempt to work at the level of general theory at all. In the present
set of essays it is brought out most vividly by Professor Morse in
his very clear statement that tlie relatively established general
scheme which has dominated recent economic theory, in this coun-
try as elsewhere, has erected certain clear barriers against raising
borderline theoretical questions. Comparable positions may be
found in “orthodox” psychoanalytic tlieory and in some phases of
antliropological “culture” theory. However, there is a certain rela-
tivity about this.

It is in teiTOs of this very broad diagnosis of the intellectual situa-

tion of social science in the United States, that I would like to say
a few words about personal orientation.^ There is of course no

2 There is a sense in which tlie following remarks

should be inter-
preted more as a kind of ‘‘retrospective teleology” than a purely his-
torical account. It is a framework in which, after several decades of
activity, I tend now to interpret certain aspects of the “meaning” of
my work, rather than a circumstantial account of “how” it came
about. With respect to an interpretation of the genesis and “strategy”
of the tlieory of action, the reader may wish to compare ‘'An Approach
to Psychological Theory in Terms of the Theory of Action” in Sigmund
Koch, (ed.) Psychology: a Science, Vol. Ill, New York; McGraw-
HiU, 1959.
316 • Talcott Parsons

doubt that the main “goal” has been to contribute to tlie develop-
ment and propagation of “general theoiy” in tire field which I gradu-
ally came to think of as the sciences of “action.” ^Vllatever factors
of temperament or of education may have underlain commitment
to such a goal, the primary immediate idea came from my ex-
posure to the work first of Max Weber, tlien of Durkheim and
finally of Pareto. This, furthermore, occurred in the context of a
major intei-pretive problem, that of the relation between the main
traditions of economic tlieory and the interpretation of many salient
characteristics of modern industrial society.
This basic interest crystallized in my doctoral dissertation at
Heidelberg on the Concept of Capitalism, witli special reference to
tliework of Sombart and Max Weber. A relatively clear distinction
between the scientific and the ideological aspects of the problem
was worked out fairly early, and primary attention given to die
former. In this context it became very clear that the problem of
empirical interpretation or “diagnosis” could not be adequately
handled without attempting to make far more [Link] than was
ordinarily done tlie exh'a-economic theoretical framework witliin
which economic theory would have to be made to fit. If properly
approached this could be seen to be a major theme in the work not
only of Weber, but also of Durkheim and, very explicitly, of Pareto.
Having worked out tliis tlieme to a degree in the Avoitings of these
authors, with Marx in the background, I attempted to tackle it in

the work of the most influential economic theorist of the generation

spanning the turn of the century, Alfred Marshall. The putting to-

gether of all these things eventuated in the book the Structure of

Social Action (first published, 1937), which is the basic reference
point of all my subsequent theoretical work ( it is only very casually
mentioned in any of the above essays except that of Devereux).
I bring up this first major work here because it is such an im-
portant reference point, not only in terms of content, but also for
what I may call the strategy of theoiy-building. The convergence
which I was able to demonstrate in tliat study, between the broad
conceptual schemes used by these four authors, constituted the first
level of integrated general theory in my own work. This was clearly
very far from being a logico-deductive theoretical system in the sense
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 317

referred to by Professor Black, but equally clearly it was very much

more than an eclectic collection of unrelated tlieoretical ideas.
Economic theory, broadly at the level achieved by Marshall, was
undoubtedly the most liighly sopliisticated theoretical scheme yet
developed for the analysis of any phase of human behavior, cer-
tainly on the macroscopic levels. To my mind the most important
theoretical contribution of the Structure of Social Action was the
demonstration of a systematic range of problems on tlie borderline
of this theory, and a convergent body of concepts oriented toward
dealing with these problems. The most fundamental of these was, I
think, tlie problem of order. It included also the problem of “ration-
ality” and the clarification of the two basic meanings of the con-
cept, the “psychological” meaning of motivational components ac-
counting for deviations from rational norms, and, on the other
hand, tlie “cultural" concepts of values, “ultimate ends,” and so forth,
which were nonrational rather than irrational. These were all related
to and underlay the conception of a normative order of institutions
such as contract, property, autliority, and so forth, and some recon-
struction of the relation between these institutions and the “self-
interest” which was the focus of the motivational conceptions in
economic tradition. They included the anchorage of the “moral
authority” of normative patterns in religious commitments as ana-
lyzed in Durkheim’s and Weber’s concepts, respectively, of the
sacred and of charisma.
It might have been conceivable to work the level of convergence

just discussed directly into a logically tight theoretical system. I am

inclined to doubt that under any circumstances tliis could have
been fruitful; it would have been even more premature than Pro-
fessor Black tliinks my
later attempts at systematization to have
been. In any case, was not tlie path which was actually taken. On
it

the contrary mine was an American type of pragmatic path. It was

to take up a whole series of restricted problems dealing with aspects
of the more general scheme, and to work on them with the double
reference to their logical and tlieoretical structure and the available
empirical evidence.
The first of thesewas the problem of some implications of the
economic doctrine of self-interest. The setting chosen was the struc-
tural contrast between business and the professions in modem
318 • Talcott Parsons

society, a problem greatly neglected in the economically oriented

literature about “capitalism” whether in ideological terms it was
conservatively or radically oriented. This in turn led into questions
which I would now phrase as those of the relations between per-
sonality and role, especially involving what above was called the
psychological aspect of the historic problem of rationality. This led,
by way of study of medical practice, into the whole problem of the
social control and eventually of tlie genesis of nonrational motiva-
tion. It was in this connection that an intensive study of Freud was
first undertaken and personahty theory became a serious concern
for this particular sociologist. It strongly reinforced my conviction
that sociology, as one aspect of the theory of social systems, could
not sucessfully deal with many of its borderline problems without
theoretically systematic consideration of many of the problems of
psychology on these borderlines. What I did was to apply the same
logic to the sociologist that I had applied earlier to the economist.
Only much later has this logic been systematically applied to the
cultural borderlines of social systems.®
At one stage of my career the question of entering fully into em-
pirical research in a technical sense naturally arose. The study of
medical practice and later that of social mobility went a certain dis-
tance in that direction. I have the feeling that some of the critics
represented in this volume, and many more elsewhere in the pro-
fession, have felt that the abandonment of this possibility has been
a fatal one, because of the importance of the task, if theory is to be
fruitful, of making it “operational” in the detailed research sense.
However this may be, my own course has been a different one. I
hope to be believed in expressing the deepest respect for competent
empirical research and tlie conviction of its central importance, in-
deed utter indispensability in the building of a science. However, at
the same time I wish to contend for the justification of specializa-
tion in theory. If one is to be a specialist, his concern with em-
pirical materials may justifiably be couched in terms of considera-
tion of their theoretical significance, and with their codification in
relation to such problems rather than their original production. It

3 Cf. “Culture and the Social System,” Introduction to Part IV of

Theories of Society, Talcott Parsons, Edward Shils, Kaspar Naegcle, &
Jesse Pitts, (eds.), Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1961.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR 319

is my present conWction that, even apart from matters of tempera-

ment and commitment to major
of serious gaps in research training,
would have been
programs of empirical research in the usual sense
incompatible witli the following through at tlie same time of a
major program in tlie budding of general theorJ^ I see this whole
problem as one of the differentiation of function in a complex sys-
tem of culturally oriented interaction.
In any case, my empirical interests have been highly diversified,
and such contributions as I have made have been mainly at the
level of summar}' and interpretive essays rather than “research.”
I should, however, maintain that such contribution can be gen-
uinely empirical, since there is no clear line between “hard data”
and more general statements of fact which can be worked out wth-
out or only partially involving technical research procedures, partly
by using tlie technical findings of others more or less directly, partly
by putting togetlier ewdence from a variety of sources. This point is

related to a certain pattern of “occasionalism” in waiting empirically

oriented essays. I have tended to be pragmatic in hoping to find
interesting tlieoretical applications and implications in a variet)' of
tlie problems posed at meetings, in printed symposiums and the

like. In recent years, the emphasis in tliese connections has tended to

center on various facets of American or contemporaiy industrial

society and have [Link] as a primary theoretical interest the
analysis of tlie large-scale social system as a system.'*
In the framework of this strategy, if it deserves such a name, it
has seemed natural that, from time to time, attempts should be
made to reach higher .levels of more generalized theoretical codifi-
cation and statement. These have included the first fragmentary
promulgation of the pattern variable scheme (1939), the codifica-
tion project wdiich eventuated in Toward a General Theory of Ac-
tion (1951), withgeneralization of this scheme and the placing
its

of it in the setting of a more general statement of the action frame

of reference; tlie collaboration with Bales
and Shils on the Working
Papers (1953) with its double focus on functional “system prob-
lems” and phases of process in time, the development of the sug-

my recent volume, Strticture and Process in Modern Societies,

Glencoe, The Free Press, 1960.
111.;
320 • Talcott Parsons

gestions made there of an input-output schema in Economy and

Society, and the very recent attempt at a more systematic exten-
sion and reformulation of the pattern variable scheme.®
In a certain sort of retrospect, it seems to me that each of these
attempts has, in strictly theoretical terms, represented an important
advance. has not, however, been in any simple sense a “linear”
It
advance, but has fallen in the pragmatic tradition in taking ad-
vantage of opportunities to clarify and extend analysis in relatively
particular theoretical fields and to articulate the new material with
the developing general scheme. Articulation in this sense has of
course been a two-way process; there has been extension of the
general scheme into new problem areas, but also and necessarily
modifications of the previous formulations of the general scheme
and apphcations in the light of the newly emerging considera-
its

tions. tliis has happened in a pragmatic way, it has naturally

Since
been a source of confusion to people trying to follow the develop-
ment who have not been intimately involved with the particular
phases under intensive consideration at the moment.
It is perhaps in the nature of the type of pragmatic development

which has been sketched here, both that it should be, as a theoreti-

cal enterprise, the generator of substantial amount of resistance

even to its scientifically meritorious features, and that it should be to
a peculiar degree thrown on the critical judgments of the relevant
professional groups—the latter point is relevant particularly because
of abandonment of the protection of a rigid ideological position

which has figured so prominently in Continental Europe. It is at

least tempting to think that this situation may have sometliing to do

with the recurring complaint, for many years now, about my being
so hard to understand. Having reached what I hope is a certain “age
of humility” I am not at all prepared to discount entirely the view
that tliere are peculiar and unnecessary obscurities in my writings.
At the same time I can claim to be somewhat sophisticated in the

sociology of knowledge and hence in tlie interpretation of resist-

ances to certain types of intellectual innovation. In this role I can-

not entirely dismiss the possibility that some of the complaints may

®“Pattern Variables Revisited,” American Sociological Review, Au-

gust, 1960.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR • 321

te manifestations of such resistances. In any case, it is not possible

for an author to be fully objective about the reception of his work;
any more ultimate judgment will have to be left to the outcome of
tlie process of natural selection through professional criticism by
which scientific reputations ultimately come to be stabilized.

In more general terms, I tliink that in this section I am attempting

to present an interpretation of the nature of the enterprise which is

the ''general theory of action” as an alternative to the critical ap-

proach of Professor Black, Notwithstanding some statements which
I have made on occasion, my present considered opinion is that,

diough it has moved in that direction, my approach is not yet a

logico-deductive system, but ratlier a temporal and historical series
of contributions toward the development of such a system. Above
all I would reject the rigid alternative; either a fully integrated de-
ductive system or a congeries of unrelated conceptualizations and
generalizations. I should contend sti'enuously that the level of the
Structure of Social Action represented genuine systematization, at a
certain ratlier elementary level, to be sure, but well in advance of
previous attempts. The steps taken since then have by and large
been real advances from that point, advances by extension, but also
clarity of definition, analytical refinement, and better theoretical
integration.
Perhaps, with due caution, it is permissible to introduce an anal-
ogy between tlie process of theory-building in a developing scien-
tific field and the process of development of a legal system. There
is a sense in which more general tlieory is to a field of science what
the more general legal principles are to a legal system. Many legal
philosophers have of course thought of the ideal legal system as
one for which most even quite detailed precepts could be logically
deduced from first principles. One may doubt whether any visible
system of law has ever concretely been developed in this way, cer-
tainly least of all Anglo-American Common Law, which has been
built up bit by bit from cases, gradually widening its ranges of
generalization. Here the function of the tlieorist in science may be
likened to that of the appellate judge whose primary function for
tliesystem is not the disposal of cases, but rather the interpretation
of rules at the higher levels of generality, their codification in rela-
tion to general principles, testing for consistency and the like.
322 Talcott Parsons

Such a process could not be fruitful if it were purely eclectic, as

some of tlie “legal realists” have contended was the case. There has
had to be a relatively determinate fundamental orientation; in the
case of Common Law I think tins can be said to have been attained
in the 16th and 17th centuries. But within this orientation, I think
legal development has been tlie kind of pragmatic process I have
been outlining.
It is my judgment tliat the element of pragmatism is more im-

portant in new tlran in old sciences, and in sciences hke those of

behavior where the definition of the theoretically significant varia-
bles (at many different system-subsystem levels) presents very great
difficulties, where system-reference problems are pecuharly com-
plex and where, probably, tlie play of extrascientific considerations
into tire process of science-building is a more serious source of di-
version and confusion than in the physical sciences. But precisely
for reasons of this sort, what I have just called a relatively deter-
minate fundamental orientation is of the first importance.
It would be my contention, as noted above, that for tlie sciences
of action the outline of this fundamental orientation was in fact
present in the main Western intellectual traditions by the late 19th
century; that most fundamental component came from the utili-
its

tarian tradition, but that a contribution from the more “collectiv-

istic” sources of French “Rousseauism” and German Idealism was

necessary.® This general orientation came to focus in the converg-

ence which was documented in my Siiucture of Social Action. The
audrors treated there in fact did a great deal of theory-building in
tire more specific sense, but, to me, the great historic event of con-
vergence opened the way to a much more detailed and technical
phase of the process wlriclr has been going on apace in the genera-
tion since their work was completed.
The work on general theory on which I have been engaged seems
to me to lie at the upper part of the pyramid of levels of generality
which the theoretical structures of a developing tradition such as
this must comprise. As such it interpenetrates at many points with
Merton’s preferred “middle range” level where such things as ref-

® Cf. “The General Interpretation of Action,” Introduction to Part I,

Section A, in Theories of Society.

TIIE POINT OF VIEW OF TIIE AUTIIOIl * 323

crcncc group tlieory fall. At a still lower level (in terms of logical
generality, not of general scientific importance) lie the more tech-
nically “operationar’ problems to which Williams refers. All of
these (and more refined distinctions could of course be made) are
essential ingredients of a developing science. None is the simple
prerequisite of the others, but all tj'pically are developing concur-
rently. Necessarily, in the course of llie development, serious im-
perfections in their coordination appear, which require difficult
critical work to be ironed out. The present symposium seems to me,
among other things, to be an important contribution to this essen-
tial task.

Let us now turn to some more substantive considerations. The

fundamental orientation to which I have referred must, if it is to
scr\'e as such, have a certain relative stability; it is perhaps a kind

of unwritten constitution of the scientific field. This does not, how-

ever, mean that the rigor and consistency of its formulation is not
subject to improvement. Professor Black has, I think, provided an
attempt at such a formulation in the list of eight “assumptions” of
general action theor)' which he reviews paper (pp. 272-73).
in his
This foimulation provides a con\'enient point of reference for a few
considerations at this level. To save space, let me simply list tliem
here in abbrcwaled form: 1) All action is directed toward goals;
2) all action is relational; 3) all human response to stimuli has the
two dimensions of ‘cognitive' and ‘cathectic'; 4) all action involves
selection among alternatives; 5) selection involves the use of stand-
ards; 6) all interaction involves complimentarity of expectations; 7)
orientations and actions are organized in s)'stems; and 8) tlie above
principles apply to social systems at all lev'els of [Link].
This is Black’s version of what
would call the “frame of refer-
I
ence” of action theoiyf.I myself have on diflFerent occasions put for-
ward a number of different formulations, none of which exactly
coincides with his. It would lead too far afield to attempt here
critically to codify these wth each otlier and with his; what
I
should like to attempt is, rather, a new succinct statement which
324 • Talcoit Parsons

the reader can compare with Black’s. This statement is made pos-
sible by the new developments reported in the paper referred to
above (‘TPattern Variables Revisited,” op. cit.).
Perhaps the most ultimate principle may be said to be that of
dtialifij, which is perhaps plirased in Black’s item of relational qual-

ity (2) but also relates to his assumption (3). The primary state-
ment of this concerns the relation between actor and situation; one
cannot speak of action except as a relation betw'’een both, it is not a
“property” of one or the other or of the two as aggregated rather
than related. You cannot have a relation without a minimum of
two terms to it. (Comparable cases are the subject and object of
epistemology, or the pair concept heredity and environment.)
Second, the relatedness of pairs of relata is spelled out in two
primal^' directions. One is that of normative control (in tlie cyber-
netic sense), or the control by a more highly organized entity over
one which is less highly organized, winch stands in a “conditional”
relation to tire former. This is the internal-external dimension of
spelling out. The other is tliat of the temporal process of imple-
mentation of “need” or “pattern” (whatever term is used), that is,
the transition of state in time from “potentially” to “actuality” (or
the fmstration of such a transition). Here tire duality concerns on
the one hand the elements in which the continuity of properties
entailing potentiality is conceptualized, on the other hand tire re-
sponsiveness of the actor to the immediacy of situational exigencies,
looked at both as dangers and as opportunities.
Underlying both of tlrese is the conception of the relevance of the
cultural level of categorization in terms of meanings. This implies
that an essential point of reference must be a postulated ‘Toiowing
and “feeling” ( Black’s assumption, paragraph 3 ) unit of reference,
an “actor” for whom tire objects of his situation have meaning. This
is the famous Weberian “subjective” point of view (Verstehen)

which, as Devereux rightly points out, has always been essential to

the scheme.
Though particular orientations of isolated actors to situations may
conceivably occur, this is a limiting case of secondary theoretical
interest. The theoretically general case is that of plural actors,
interacting witlr each other so that each concrete actor-unit be-
comes situation to the other; in tire terminology I have used, each
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 325

unit both an actor and a social object. These are thus not cate-
is

gories of concrete entities, but analytically distinguishable aspects

of the same entities. This is the concept of system (Black, 7) which
is of direct interest to the theory of action; that is, a system is seen

as two or more interacting units which are at the same time actors
and social objects to each otlier.
Given tlie postulate of the liierarchy of normative control it fol-
lows from this tliat as a condition of minimum integration of such
a system diere must he some degree of complementarity of ex-
pectations (Black, 6). The alternatives are randomness of orienta-
tions relative to each otlier, or a level of direct conflict which would
not be compatible witli the continuance of such a system. The con-
cept of boundary-maintenance as a criterion of such a system also
follows from the combination of normative control and mutuality
of orientation.
Every such system must by deflnition have an environment wliich
is external to it, vis-a-vis wliich there is a boundary— which may be
complex—and relative to which there is a problem of “control,” i.e.,
of maintenance of the pattern of the system vis-a-vis the fluctuating
features of the environment. The inherent possibility of plural sys-
tems, and their differentiation into subsystems, seems to belong to
the general logic of science. But that at least two such levels must
be involved in the analysis of action, is among other tilings a con-
sequence of what I have called tlie subjective point of view. This
is to say, tlie observer of a system of action, as scientist, must him-

self in some sense be conceived of as an actor. But the system he

obsen^es, or its units, e.g., individual persons or organized collectivi-

ties of them, must also consist of actors which is to say tliey belong
to the same general category of objects which includes scientific
observers. There is therefore a sense in wliich in the action field the
act of scientific observation is a process of action in interaction ivitli
tlie and observed taken
objects observed, that, therefore, observer
together constitute a system of action. If, for example, there were
no “common culture” in tliis system, there would be no way of
“interpreting” what tlie acts of the observed meant to the actor
witliin his system. Therefore, in some sense, the system observed
must be a subsystem of a larger one of which tlie observer-observed
relation is a part. Hence Black’s paragraph 8 is a necessary part
of
326 • Talcott Parsons

the scheme on some level ( though other subsystems of action tl}an

the social may be involved).
The remaining three of Black’s assumptions (1,4,5) seem to me
to be direct consequences of the t^vo first-order spelHngs-out of tlie
duality principle as combined with the cultural reference. Nornia-
tive control clearly means that the relation of higher-order systems
to lower-order conditional systems must be selective; random ac-
cessibility to situational-environmental influence would be incom-
patible with the imperative of maintenance of organization, i.e., with
order. If the subjective postulate is accepted, means that the
it

mechanism by which such selectivity operates must involve a com-

ponent normatively meaningful to the actors in the system as well
as to the observer; a standard may be conceived of as a selective
principle which has normative meaning to a relevant actor. Finally,
in its relation to the external situation, an action system must be
directed in some sense toward "optimizing” the relation between its
internal "needs” and the significant features of the situation. Be-
cause, however, of the changing nature of environments (relative
to action system ) , an optimal relation is necessarily limited in scope
and in time; it is as such a relatively optimal segmental state that
I should conceive a goal-state to be, and the property of goal-
direction as the tendency to act in the direction of attaining such
states. It is an essential, though not, I think, the most fundamental

property of action systems. I should not put it first in my own list

of assumptions.
Perhaps one more assumption, not included in Black’s list, is es-
sential, namely that action tlieory is concerned with die analysis
of aspects of the behavior of living organism; particularly that
phase which involves the control and direction of such behavior
through culture-level symbolic systems and the organization through
wliich that control is implemented. There are two points at
which this assumption becomes essential. Tlie first is that it es-
tablishes basic continuity Nvith the biological world. Action is es-
sentially a level of organization of the phenomena of life which
can be presumed to have emerged in tlie course of evolution (cf.
Scientific American, September 1960, especially the article by Hock-
ett on language). The second point is to draw the line vis-h-vis
physical behavior. This is not, as such, action in the analytical sense.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 327 .

but is controlled by action processes. Thus, I should answer Whyte’s

complaint that “there is no action in action theory” by saying that he
attempts to find this kind of action at the viTong level in the total
organization of living behavioral systems. He means essentially the
physical behavior of organisms.
This assumption also underlies the very central point which does
is a plural hierarchy of
not figure in Black’s discussion, that there
subsystems of action, otlier than witliin social systems, namely the
behavioral organism, the personality of the individual, the social
system generated by interaction, and the cultural system organized
. about patterns of meaning.'^ This set arranged as a hierarchy of
is

control in the above sense, from lower to higher in the order stated.
Within this frame of reference it is possible to say certain gen-
eral tilings about the nature of systems of action. The first is that
the notion of a hierarchically ordered (in the control sense) bound-
ary-maintaining system imphes tlie notion of f unction, as operation
relative to a set of exigencies, namely sets of conditions, internal
and external to tlie system, which can be shown to set hmits to var-
iation which is compatible with the integrity and effectiveness of
the system. There are ranges of tolerance, but beyond these, proc-
esses of fundamental change, including dissolution, will be set in
motion. The concept of function used here is essentially the same
as that used in the biological sciences, e.g., as expressed by W. B,
Caimon.®
Though for particular purposes a much longer fist may be needed,

for themost general theoretical purposes it has turned out that a list
of only four is adequate, the four which are generated by the two
dimensions of spelling out of the fundamental relational duahty of
action discussed above. We may put it that the most elementary
notion of action implies two functional references, namely, (
1 ) the
maintenance of a pattern of orientation and (2) the definition of the
significance or meaning of one or more situational objects. The es-

This schema of the four basic subsystems of action is most fully

’’

developed in the essay “An Approach to Psychological Theory in -

Terms of the Theory of Action," in Psychology; a Science, Sigmund

Koch (ed.), Vol. III. Cf. also Introduction to Part IV, Theories of
Society.
^W. B. Cannon, The Wisdom of the Body, New York: Norton, 1932.
328 • Talcott Parsons

senidal point is that though by definition always both are involved,

tliese are analytically distinct and not reducible to each other; their
reduction would imply, either, as in much “idealistic” thought, that
situations were not independent of the orientations of action,
but
were “emanations” of them, or conversely “materialistic” orienta-
tions would be an epiphenomena of situations. These are referred
to as the “orientation” aspect of function and die “modality” aspect,
respectively (‘Tattern Variables Revisited,” op. cit.).
When we have a system composed of two or more interacting
actors in an environment, however, tv’^o further exigencies have to
be taken into account which are not reducible to either the com-
ponents of the elementary pair just discussed or to their combina-
tion. These are ( 1 ) internally, the exigencies of stable interrelation
and (2) the meeting of die
of the action units vis-a-vis each other,
exigencies of generalized relation between its system and die ex-
ternal situation conceived as a set of facilities and conditions of
operation of the system. These are the functional references of in-
tegration and adaptation respectively. For a system, we contend,
this is a minimum set; the operation of a system cannot be ade-
quately analyzed in terms of less than four mutually independent
ranges of variation for purposes of general theory though of course
particular problems may be treated in analytically simpler terms.
This functional schema may dien be applied in connection with
the general distinction characteristic of all scientific treatment of
systems between structure and process, concepts which I do not
think need to be expHcated here. Each of these in turn can be di-
vided into relational and unit categories. In the case of structure,
units in action systems are on die one hand actors, on the other
hand social objects; the most familiar case is persons-in-roles as
units in the structure of social systems, but in more complex social
systems collectivities are also units, as can also be complexes of
norms and components of structure then are
values.^ Relational
those comprising die stable elements in the relations between units.
It follows from the normative control aspect of action systems that
these are in some sense definitions of the “right” or “proper” rela-

9 The term“unit” is here used in tlie sense in which a particle is a

unit in a physical system, or a cell in an organism, not that in which
a imit of measurement may be referred to.
aHE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 329

tionship pattern. They are clearly of primarily integrative signifi-

cance in a functional sense.
When we come to process, the components which are parallel to
units in a structural sense are categories of input and output, ac-
cording to tlie level of system reference conceived either as oper-
ating between the system itself and its environment or as between
subsystems (units) in relation to each other. Thus, at one level
process may be conceived exchanging of inputs
as the “passing” or
and outputs betw^een systems or subsystems. Because of the sym-
bolic-cultmal aspect of action, it may be said that the fundamental
input-output categories are all “informational” and that the basic
action process is always in some sense “communication.”
Very simple input-output interchanges may be direct, like barter
in tireeconomic case. But in complex systems generalized media
become necessary, media which on tire one hand are rooted in the
structure of the system, on the other hand can “circulate” as regula-
tors of the interchange process. These media define relations in the
context of process. On the most general human language is
level
the prototype of such media; the best understood one within com-
plex social systems is money.
seems probable that pleasure is
It
such a medium in the behavioral organism in its relation to the
personality.
It has been contended that within the normative-control and the
subjective-cultural features of the action frame of reference the
principle of relational duality is of fundamental significance. It
seems to me that it is here that die pattern variables fit. They consti-
tute the minimum differentiated spellings out of the fundamental
duality which, in connection with the functional principles just out-
lined, are necessary to define the essential functional problems and
hence conditions of stability, of a system of action. This involves
die questions, raised by Professor Black, of die stabihty and ex-
haustiveness of die list, as well as of the meaning of their dichot-
omous structure.
With respect to number, I should say it must be eidier four or
six pairs and the choice is a matter of definition. The
basic four,
which in turn are diwded into the “orientation set” of specificity—
diffuseness,and affectivity—neutrality, and the “modality set” of
universalism—particularism, and performance— quality, are clearly
330 • Talcott Parsons

modes of classifying tlie basic structural and processual components

of action systems refeiTcd to above. Here (as shown in Figure 12,
taken from “Pattern Variables Revisited,” American Sociological
Review, Vol. 25, August 1960) they serve to make the elementary
distinctions, a) between the two sides of the fundamental orien-
namely, orientations of actors and modalities of
tation duality,
objects in tlie and b) between the four basic functional
situation
meanings, which are generated by tlie cross-classification of each
of tire two parts within each set. Then for defining die relational
components of the system, that is, integrative standards on the
one hand, adaptive media on die other, two sets of cross-classifica-
tion are used, with pattern variable components drawn from each
of the two elementary sets.
As I have shown in the paper referred to, within these assump-
tions and at this level the set of four pattern variables and their
combinations are in fact exhaustive. In my present
classificatory
opinion their status is not eitiier arbitrary or independent of die
concept of system under the general frame of reference just re-
viewed. They constitute an integral aspect of the system of action
as that has been in process of crystallization.
This means that of the five, as pubhshed in 1951, one, namely, the
self-vs .-collectivity orientation variable, is a special case. As was
clearly recognized at that time it does not belong to either of the
two elementary sets, but stands on a more general logical level.
As I now see it, it is die formulation in one special case of one of
the two general spellings out of the original duality, the more gen-
eral statement of which has appeared in recent ivritings as the
external-internal dichotomy. If it is to be called a pattern variable
at all, then it must be matched by a second one which above I have
referred to as the “instrumental-consummatory” distinction. Tlie ele-

mentary sets, as it now seems to me, define the components of a

system of action and those of their combinations which state the

basic interrelations of diose components; the supplementary pairs
do not do tliis, but rather they define the axes of differentiation of a
system of action in relation to the environment external to it. It
seems to me essential to keep these two levels of categorization
distinct and for this reason my present inclination is to reserve the

term “pattern variable” for the categories which classify components

(Adaptation) ( Goal- Attainment)

INSTEUMENTAL CONSUMMATOEY

Adaptive exigencies represented by P Modalities of Objects

_ 'Symbolic^ Meanings of Objects e
E r

^
,

—>-Part f
J o Universalistic Particularistic
e . 1 Neut Spec
'
r
r
n
m
a
^ COGNITIVE
EXPRESSIVE n OBJECTSOF OBJECTS OF
^SYMBOLIZATION SYMBOLIZATION c UTILITY CATHEXIS
e
!r'>!zlWWHXW

-^^Univ > >^QuaI

I 1 Dlff i Aff
n I Q
1 .
n
EXISTENTIAL MOEALr- a OBJECTS OF
® INTERPEE- OBJECTS OF
EVALUATIVE 1“GENERALIZED
^ IDENTIFICATION
TATION CATEGORIZATION i EESPECT”
n
t
a
1
y
Instrumental Consummatory

S Orientations to Objects Integrative Standards for Orientation

P
e Neutrality* Affectivity Univ Perf
^ ^ 1
f
1
t — l^ec — Aff
f
e
r
^
‘INTEEEST m CONSUMMATORY 11
GOAL-
>-•
^INSTEUMENTAL a ADAPTATION
NELLS ATTAINMENT
UTILIZATION I
J
hi

trj
y
pa
D Qual Part
>'s:
i 1 1
f
I ^— jleut — Dlff

^
NEEDS FOR NEEDS FOE t PATTERN-
COMMITMENT AFFILIATION e MAINTENANCE INTEGEATION
g
e r
n n
e a
1
s
8 iastrmnental . Consununatory

L .. /
'
(Pattern-Maintenance)
(fotegration)
.

332 • Talcott Parsons

and use another term to designate the axes of differentiation, in-

deed tliat term itself may well be appropriate.
The classifications wliich are introduced within each set of pat-
tern variables are arranged in terms of the scheme of four basic
functional exigencies of systems which has just been reviewed. The
orientation set then characterizes a unit of an action system treated
as actor whereas tlie modality set characterizes a unit treated as
object; it should be remembered that in action systems any con-
crete unit may be treated as both: lire distinction is analytical. The
treatment of each of these aspects of the unit in terms of four dif-
ferent possible combinations of elementary components even within
the set is necessitated by the fact that every unit of a system of
action may, by shifting the level of system reference, be treated as
a system, hence as subject to all the exigencies relevant to any
itself

system of this class. The attribution of the properties of a system to

any given level within a macroscopic-microscopic, or system-sub-
system range is a matter of the particular empirical problem-state-
ment and is not ontological in significance (this point was strongly
stressed in Working Papers).
Seen in this context the dichotomous logical structure of the pat-
tern variable scheme is, as noted,a consequence of the basic dual-
ity of the frame of reference as spelled out in the context of the
concept of systems of action at not one but a minimum of two
system-subsystem levels. The formulation actor-situation as a state-
ment of the basic duality may in one context be regarded as a log-
ically general one which, in terms of tlie breakdown of systems of
action into four major types of subsystem, has the following four
more special forms: namely, organism-environment (for behavioral
organism); actor-situation in a more specific sense (for personality
system as actor); system-environment, again in a more specific
sense (for social system as actor); subject-object (for cultural sys-
tem as reference )

There is an obvious terminological difficulty here, one of a very

common sort in the history of science. This is that a concept, or the

of Psycho-
Cf, Talcott Parsons, "Some Reflections on the Problem
somatic Relationships in Healtlr and Illness,” forthcoming paper
in

Psychosomatic Medicine.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 333

concept pair embodying a logical distinction, has been used for at

least two different levels of logical generality in relation to a more
general frame of reference. The process of logical differentiation of
die theoretical scheme has then made it necessary to distinguish
had not previously been necessary. Often in
the levels, whereas tliat
such a case tiiere are no terms available in current usage to state
die double distinction, or the adaptation of such terms does violence
to many implicit understandings in current usage. Unfortunately I
have ho ready solution of die present terminological difficulty, but
I hope die logical situation is clear.^^
Returning, however, to the most general level, we may use the
concepts actor and situation to designate the most basic duality of
die scheme. In pattern variable terms diis takes the foim of the
distinction between die two sets of pattern variables. The next step
in the ‘‘derivation ’
of a system in these terms is the introduction of
die distinction, on both “sides” of the relational scheme, behveen
die hvo directions of “spelling-out” discussed above, namely ( 1 ) the
hierarchy of control (internal-external) and, (2) the process of im-
plementation in time (instrumental-consummatory). This yields the
double fourfold table scheme in terms of which each of die two
elementary pattern variable sets is arranged as differentiated in
terms of die general functional frame of reference, and the two
sets inturn are treated as constituting the “pattern-maintenance”
and the “goal-attainment” references respectively. Thus, the pattern
variables are directiy built into the minimum conceptualization of
the analysis of any process of action.

The same kind of difficulty has appeared at various other points in

tliis [Link], an illustration very close to tlie present dilemma is die
problem presented by the conflict over die uses of the terms “culture”
and “social system”; broadly much American anthropological tradition
.has meant by culture something which has included what sociologists,
e.g., in die Durkheimian tradition, have meant by social system. Some
way of designating the analytical distinction has now become neces-
sary (c/. A. L. Kroeber & Talcott Parsons, “The Concepts of Culture
and of Social Systems,” American Sociological Review, October 1958).
A similar dilemma has arisen with reference to die formula, the
“behavior of the organism,” which is still the preferred one among
most American psychologists. This fails to distinguish the levels I have
spoken of as that of the behavioral organism on die one hand, die
personality on the other.
Outputs to Environment

(G)
Meanings Outputs)

Objects

(Inputs-

Internal
of
PROCESS

OF

CATEGORIES

Represents-
External
{A)

of Objects

J^mbolic
tions

vis-i

(f)
Implementation

Integrative

Standards

of
CATEGORIES

Direction

STRUCTURAL

Actors)

(L)
Orientation

of
Objects

of
(Properties

to
Units
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR • 335

When, however, we take the step to the analysis of systems, as

discussed above, it becomes necessary to consider tibe two further
functional exigencies which have been called integrative and adap-
tive. These are (cf. ‘TPattem Variables Revisited”) categorized in
terms, of combinations of the pattern variable components which
draw from both of the two elementary sets, in the one case char-
acterizing integrative standards (Black, 5) and in the otlier case
generalized mechanisms or media of adaptive function, i.e., the
‘representation” of the external environment within the system.
Within a set of rules, wliich have been stated in tlie paper referred
to, the combinations of the pattern variables involved in these four
functional references of systems of action are exhaustive and, for a
logical scheme, they cover what have been claimed to be, at tlie

requisite level of logical generality, all the basic functional aspects

of a systemboth structural and processual. This latter claim is for-
mulated in terms of the ti'ansformation from the absti'actly func-
tional mode of presentation of the combinations (Figure 1) to tlie
structural-processual mode (Figure 13, taken from “Pattern Varia-
bles Revisited” [p. 476], American Sociological Review, Vol. 25,
August, 1960). ^2
The above considerations wliich, it should be made clear, could
not have been formulated in terms of the state of my thinking in
1951— the Black considers—constitute my an-
latest materials vdiich
swers to his questions about the nature of the assumptions on which
the theoiy of action as a conceptual scheme rests, the nature of tlie
pattern variables, whetlier the list is exhaustive, and whether they
are “necessary” within the scheme. On the question of the nature of
the assumptions, I tliink I have adequately accounted for all of the
eiglit propositions stated by Black, but I have placed tliem in a
somewhat different order and have related them more explicitly
to each other and to some which Black does not bring out. Of these

The above account of the pattern variables and the way in which
they fit general action scheme is necessarily, in view of
into tlie
limitations of space, so condensed tliat to many readers it may appear
cryptic. Unfortunately it is simply impossible to give a full exposition
here without sacrificing too many other things which need to go
into this essay. Hence the best I can do is to refer the reader who has
difficulty to the paper “Pattern Variables Revisited” which is easily
accessible.
336 • Talcott Parsons

the most essential are the basic cultural references of action theory,
and the special place of the liierarchy of control and the temporal
implementation themes as the first-order spellings out of the funda-
mental relational scheme. On the question of die pattern variables,
I think it can now be said that they are essential and diat they
are exhaustive, though not so in the 1951 formulation. The link be-
Uveen the frame of reference or assumptions and the pattern varia-
bles is clearly supplied by the conception of systems as subject to
four functional exigencies, a conception which, diough it had been

formulated in considerable detail as early as 1953 (Working Papers),

Black did not take into account.
Wiat, according to eventual terminological decision, may be either
the sixth pattern variable, or a category on another level (as
I incline to treat it), namely, the instrumental-consummatory dis-

and proc-
tinction interpreted as the basis for the fining of structure
ess, constitutes, I think, the basic answer to die objection which

Black, among many others, raises, alleging a “static” bias to be in-

herent in die scheme. Here I think it is essential to make the funda-
mental distinction between die concrete developmental processes by
wliich a conceptual scheme is built up and the logic of the scheme
looked at in more general terms at any given point of its develop-
ment, There is, in my opinion, more trudi in the allegation in the
first dian in the second context.

It is quite true that the empirical-theoretical problem which was

at the focus of my own theoretical “take-off” was the problem of die

bases of social order; it was, as Devereux quite clearly points out,

the problem posed long ago by Hobbes. It was die fact diat Hobbes
had never been satisfactorily answered within the utilitarian tradi-

tion that made recourse to the intellectual resources of idealistic-

collectivistic traditions, especially by Durklieim and Weber, nec-
cessaiy; it is, in my opinion, out of the “marriage” of the two tiadi-
tions diat modern sociological theor)' has been born. It turns out,

I tliink, that consideration of the problem of order in these terms

leads directly into the nature and bases of the structure of action

J-’If they were not used, essentially the same concepts under different

names would have to be introduced.

THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOB * 337

systems, in particular o£ social systems, and structure is by definition

a categoiy of the relatively stable aspects of a system.

Professor Black makes the interesting point tliat tire concept orien-
tation, which for the personality is comparable to that of attitude,
is and designates a relatively stable
in fact a structural concept
aspect of a system. In this, in my opinion, he is correct, but not in
drawing the inference that because of the prominence given to the
concept of orientation, the theory is in general biased against dy-
namic analysis. This is simply because, in the general scheme, the
orientation component is only one of four rvlrich are treated as
equally fundamental aspects of systems. It is quite correct that this
is treated consistently as the most stable of the four, but it does not
follow that there is any disposition to discriminate—intellectually, of
course— against tlie other three. It does, however, follow that proc-
esses of change which involves changes in the orientation factors
(in the sense of Figure 1 above) are of a different order from those
involving the other three functional components; but surely it is

not inherently ‘Tiias” to assert that, among a classification of four

factors, one may have properties not shared with the other three.
This brings one directly to the equally controversial concept of
equilibrium. In my opinion, this is overwhelmingly an ideological,
not a theoretical, question. Theoretically, the concept of equilibrium
is a simple corollary of that of system, of the interdependence of

components with each other. In turn, the concept

as interrelated
of system is so fundamental to science that, at levels of high theo-

retical generality, there can be no science -without it. If there are

no uniformities involved in the interdependence of components
there is no scientific theory. Furthermore, a fundamental distinc-
tion always needs to be made between analytically formulated rela-
tions of variables, what more methodologists mean by laws, and
empirical interdependences of operationally identifiable compo-
nents. Equilibrium is, in my opinion, a concept defining the relation
betiveen the two. given tlie concept of an empirical
It states that,
system, there are in fact empirical conditions of its stability—
whether this stability be “static” or a moving stability-in change.
If no be made between conditions which favor sta-
distinction can
bility and those which tend to a change of state away from the
338 • Talcott Parsons

“stable state” in either of these senses, there can be no such thing

as systematic empirical analysis.
These extremely general considerations are given added signifi-
cance for systems defined as involving cybernetic control and the
closely related conception of boundary-maintenance. Thus, for an
internal combustion engine, there must be a diflEerence between the
consequences of a) the existence of a stable relation between the
position of a “tlirottle” and the rate of fuel-input in the combustion
chambers, and b) a situation where the fuel input and changes in
the position of the tlirottle are wholly unrelatable; an airplane pilot
who attempted to use the latter type of throttle as a basic control
would surely be courting disaster.
Equilibrium, in short, is notliing but the concept of regularity
under specific conditions as applied to the internal state of an em-
pirical system relative to its environment. This regularity of course
should always be treated as relative rather than absolute; indeed,
it is generally subject to considerable ranges of tolerance, and of

course maintenance is by no means inevitable but,

its if the condi-
tions on which it depends are changed beyond certain limits, it wiU
disappear, again most probably giving way to other regularities
than to sheer randomness. Thus in my opinion tliis concept is an
inherently essential part of tlie logic of science, of importance pro-
portionate to the level of tlieoretical generality aimed at. The denial
of its legitimacy in the conceptual armory of social science is at tlie
least, in my perhaps not very humble opinion, symptomatic of the
denial that social science itself is legitimate, or realistically pos-
sible, On this point I have thus remained completely unimpressed
by the barrage of persistent criticism.
It should be clearly understood that not only are equilibrating
processes veiy frequently doubtful in their outcome so that break-
down of equilibrium is scientifically as important a phenomenon as
its preservation (but of course not inherently more important), but

also that equilibrium itself is neither attained nor maintained simply

by the persistence of some “static” factor. That something, e.g., a

“pattern of orientation,” should remain unchanged, seems to me to

be a necessary component in a state of equilibrium, but it is
equally essential, in the light of presumptive change in the environ-
ment of the system, that some things change as a condition of main-
THE POINT OF ^^E^V OF THE AUTHOR * 339

tenance of equilibrium. This completely crucial in the biological

is

theory referred to; thus, in order for tlie mammalian organism to

maintain a relatively constant body temperature, there must ob-
viously be some trend of change of environmental temperature. If
nothing in tlie human organism changed, between an environ-
mental temperature of 110 degrees Fahrenheit and 10 degrees—
discounting the effect of clothing—it would obviously be impossible
to maintain constancy of internal temperature. Tliis is tlie whole
point of Cannon’s famous concept of homeostasis, wliich I take to
be a special case of tliat of equilibrium. To say that such a pattern
of analysis is simply a manifestation of a “static bias” seems to me
to be a gross distortion.
This point provides a convenient transition to two final questions
raised by Black, on wliich I should like to comment briefly. These
are, namely, tlie questions of the extent to which the assumptions
of the theory of action are grounded in solid empirical generaliza-
tions, and of whether or not the scheme gives rise to important
generalized Iqqiotheses (or theorems).
I have stated tlie relation between the concept of equilibrium

and that of order. 'V^fliatever its limits and however precarious it

may be, order in empirical action systems is a fact; that it is problem-
atical is proved by the commonness of its (relative) absence. Society
is not, in fact, in general a Hobbesian war of all against all; this

fact was the major focus of the great theories of order, particularly
Durklieim. But social disorder certainly exists; witness the condi-
tion of the ex-Belgian Congo in tlie late summer of 1960. Order, this
is to say, is a very real phenomenon, but also is problematical, as
Devereux and Williams correctly point out.
That order in systems of action is grounded in normative control
is, it seems to me, a very basic empirical generalization which has

become increasingly substantiated and clarified in die past genera-

tion, above all by developments in the area between the biological

and die social sciences. The older “mechanistic” dieories have been
pretty thoroughly discredited, as far back as the dieory of control
of physical systems. Cyberneticand information tiieory at tliis very
general level linkup wth the kind of thing represented in behaVior
ps}'cholog)' by Tolman in speaking of “purposive behavior in ani-
mals and men,” and more recently by work on the functioning of
340 • Talcott Parsons

the brain {cf. above all Olds and Pribram). Blaek’s statement of
the assumption of goal-directedness is one special case of tlris
broad generalization, but the role of selectivity and of standards
also belongs in this context. If tliere is any major empirieal general-
ization embodied in the trend of scientific thinking with reference
to tlie “life sciences” in our time, the imputation of normatively
controlled order to living systems, and the postulation of a hierarchy
of such levels of order, seems to me to be one of tlie most funda-
mental.
Next, I think can be quite sharply stated tliat the scientific
it

status of the importance of what is variously called “symbolic

process,” “communication” and a number of otlier related things,
has been strongly vindicated. Not least of the relevant considera-
been the development of tlie science of linguistics;
tions here has
unless communicationmeans something, surely language is not
even a phenomenon worth studying. Tliis leads directly to the
empirical status of the assumption, unfortunately not made explicit
by Black, that action theory is fundamentally oriented to the prob-
lems of meaning in the symbolic-cultural sense.
Such matters as complementarity of expectations are somewhat
more specialized, but to anyone deeply immersed in contemporary
social science it is difficult to see how tlie status of empirical
generalization can be denied to such an “assumption.” For example,
the whole argument of Baldwin’s and Bronfenbrenners papers,
regardless of how far they agree or disagree until me, would fall
to the ground. Certainly one of the most important developments of
social science in tlie last generation has been tliat of role theory,
and for this complementarity of expectations has been fundamental.
Of course one possible misimderstanding must be forestalled, namely,
that complementarity should be considered an open and shut
phenomenon. On the contrary it is a special case of equilibrium;
relatively complete complementarity of expectations is one major
condition of the stability of interaction processes. Whether or not
it in fact materializes is an empirical question in the particular

case. But if it were not empirically common there would be no

social systems or personalities in the human sense.
Broadly speaking, I take it that Professor Black expresses an
attitude of skepticism toward tlie empirical status of the assump-
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 341

tions of action theory. In my opinion this would not be possible

for a man deeply immersed in the recent developments of social
science. Many of tliese points have been historically controversial.
But the radical denial of any of tlie basic ones I have just reviewed,
seems to me to be out of court in the present state of the relevant
disciplines. The position of the old fashioned behaviorist, for exam-
ple, who denies the scientific legitimacy of "subjective’’ data, or of
the mechanist who denies tliat any sort of “normative” control ever
operates in the empirical world, are no longer strongly held. Indeed,
in myopinion these questions are no longer controversial in any
authentic sense. Of course, from the legitimacy of these assumptions
on the most general levelit does not follow tliat the much more

specificways in which I have built them into a relatively detailed

conceptual scheme must be accepted; that involves several further
steps.
The conceptual scheme has, in my opinion, now reached a stage
of development where the principal diflBculty is not in deriving
generalized hypotlieses, but in stating them at the level of generality
and in tlie system-reference which is most meaningful for the
purposes in hand; the complexity of tlie scheme is such that this
presents so very formidable a problem that it is out of the question
to review it in detail here. Fortunately Black expresses very clearly
the point tliat a general tlieory should not be expected to give
directly tlie answers of empirical use to the problems of operational
criteria in particular situations. There must be many sets of such
criteria for the many different kinds of uses and it is my opinion,
already stated, that it is too big a task for the same person to be
kind of general theorist I have attempted to
tlie be and at the same
time to supply tlie answers to the relevant operational questions

over any very large part of the range for which tlie scheme is
relevant.
Here I should like to attempt to state a few hypotheses in the
most general terms and tlien to give a few illustrations at the more
concrete levels of particular ty^es of [Link] of tlie terms
used will have been defined (or used) in the preceding outline,
although I hope tlie reader wall not hold me to standards of die
fullest technical rigor, but wall consider ratiier the question of the
meaiiiiigfulness of ,die propositions witliin die system, and the
342 • Talcott Farsons

possibility of working out fully rigorous statements and derivations.”

The most fundamental theorem of the tlieory of action seems to
me to be that the structure of systems of action consists in institu-
tionalized (in social and cultural systems) and/or internalized (in
personahties and organisms) patterns of cultural meaning. That
this is not a proposition obvious to common sense is attested by
the long and complex liistory of behavioristic and other reductionist
theories of human behavior; take, for example, die ver)' recent
imputations to Freud (illegitimately, I think) of a strictly biological
instinct-determinism theory.
As indicated in above formulation the relevant
tlie cultural
pattern-components must be differently formulated for different
subsystems of action, systems tliey are values, norms,
viz.: for social
goals of collectivities, and patterns of role-expectation for indi-
viduals; for cultural systems they are patterns of the grounding of
meanings, of evaluation, of expressive symbolization, and of empiri-
cal cognitive ordering of experience; for personality systems they
are internalized (broadly in the Freudian sense) value-patterns,
social objects and motivational orientations (“need-dispositions”);
finally for the behavioral organism they are learned patterns of tlie

orientation of behavior, stored in memory. From this point of view

all cases of learning which result in organized “cognitive maps”
(Tolman’s term) are in the present sense cases of internalization.
There are, then, two further basic propositions which state the

primary conditions of relatively stable institutionalization or inter-

nalization, as the case may be. The first of these has, for the
institutional case, been stated theorem of the “institutional
as the
integration of motivation” (Social System, Chap. II). This is that
the goals of the units of a social system, in an important sense in
the “last analysis” individual personalities in roles, must broadly
have the meaning of being contributions to die functioning of die
social or cultural system of which die units are parts. Like other

The approach used here is somewhat different from that taken at

the end of “Pattern Variables Revisited.” The cake of tlieory can be
cut in different ways to derive hypotheses and this time it seemed
useful to attempt it through the input-output interchange paradigni
which has not yet been published in full, but is most fully stated in
Economif and Society, T. Parsons and Neff J. Smelser, London: Rout-
ledge & Kegan Paul, also Glencoe, HI.: The Free Press, 1956.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 343

such propositions tliis is not one of absolute yes or no in empirical

reference. All social systems can tolerate a certain amount of con-
flictand of alienation from normative expectations, ex'pressed as
rebellion or as withdrawal, but there are relatively definite limits
which are compatible with the stability of tlie system, including
orderly processes of change. The each particular case are a
limits in
matter for empirical detennination, but the proposition not only
asserts tlie meaningfulness of the question of this determination,
but also the probability that a relatively high degree of such motiva-
tional integration will be found to be functionally necessary and
empirically prevalent.
For the "individual,” as organism and/or personality, the corre-
sponding proposition concerns the integration of pai*ticular needs
or "motives” with the necessities of maintenance of the major
orientation patterns of the behavioral system, whether these be
formulated as "life-goals,” "values,” or "character type.”
In terms of our more general theoretical scheme tliis theorem is

concerned with the relation between the orientation and the

modality aspect, under the assumption, given in tlie concept of
structure, that the latter \vill be subject to environmental pressures
(to gratification or frustration) wliich do not apply in the same
measure to the former.
This may, following Durkheim, for the social system case be
called tlie "law of mechanical solidarity.” It means that, even on
the most elementar}^ levels, the exigencies of maintenance of a
structural pattern and the exigencies of ""coping” vdth a changing
situation must somehow be balanced and hence that a rigid pre-
dominance of either pressm*e is incompatible with the functioning
of the system.

In proportion as a system becomes complex, however, and hence

also differentiated, this will not be suflScient.^“ With differentiation
of a system into kinds of units, which contribute differentially to

Aggregates of many segmented units which are not differentiated

from each other are of course tlieoretically conceivable, but it is not
difficult to show tliat such aggregates are likely to be relatively
unstable and that, certainly under pressure of such factors as
“growth,” tliere is an inlierent tendency toward increasing differen-
tiation.
344 • Talcott Parsons

meeting of the various functional exigencies of the system, a

tlie

new order of mechanisms of integration and of adaptation must

emerge—the alternatives are dissolution of the system or its stabiliza-'

tion in an undifferentiated state. The theorem of primary signifi-

cance here wliich, in the social system case, may (following Durkheim
again) be called tlie “law of organic solidarity” is as follows. In
proportion as an action system becomes differentiated, there must
be a balance between a) definiteness in the patterning of the rela-
tionsbetween units (according to “rules” or norms in tlie normative
reference) and b) flexibility yet consistency in the patterning of
adaptation to the shifting exigencies of tlie situation, bodi of the
system to its environment, and of the unit to its situation within
the system. The “solution” of this dilemma lies in the institutional-
ization of generalized normative patterns which are compatible mth
adaptive flexibility in particular situations; generahzed legal systems
are prototypical in this regard.
These may be said to be the tliree fundamental dynamic theorems
of tlie theory of action; the first is, in dynamic terms, a 'law of
inertia.” At a next level down in the order of generality of functional
significance I should place four additional propositions with refer-
ence to the direct interchanges( as distinguished from tlie diagonals

in the paradigm) between the four primary functional subsystems

of a system of action. Important special cases on the level of com-
plex social systems which concern the relation of the economy to
the rest of the society of which it is a part (of. Economy and
Society, especially. Chap. II) are the balances involved in die com-
modity and labor markets on the one hand, the capital markets
on the other. A good example of the theorem element here is the
assertion that the equilibrium of such a partial social system depends
on a balance with reference to flows of labor power, commodities,
and purchasing power; the Keynesian formulation of the immediate
(as distinguished from die “monetary”) conditions of maintenance
of full employment is a classic example.
It would lead much too far afield to enter here into even a
sample of die many intricacies necessarily involved in presenting a
complete account. It is clear that die logic behind these formula-
tions is that of the processes of input-output interchange betiveen
subsystems of a system of action. The entities interchanged are,
THE POINT OF VIEW OF TI^E AUTHOR * 345

asnoted above, classifiable as a) ^resources/’ which are generated

and consumed in tlie course of system process, and b) media, like
money, which ‘circulate.” The resources have the two fundamental
“meanings” of facilities on tlie one hand, rewards on the otlier—
anotlier example of the duality principle running tlirough tlie whole
scheme.
The general principle concerns on tlie one hand definition of
tlie conditions of balance between flows in both directions which
fall within the limits of maintenance of the relevant equilibria, and

on tlie otlier identification of the consequences of exceeding those

limits, in eitlier direction (plus or minus) and on both sides of the
interchange relationship. It goes without saying tliat for such gener-
alizations to be formulated in terms which may be operationally
testable, it is necessary to define tlie input and output categories as
well as the relevant media and the conditional factors with, sufficient
clarity at the level of system performance and organization which
is relevant to tlie particular problem. The fact that tliis is such a
formidable task is, perhaps, even more than tlie primitive state of
theory at the more gener^ level, what makes it :so difficult to come
up with concrete operational criteria for testing.
Generally, the most successful approach to progress in this task
has, it seems to me, been achieved dirough codification of findings
wliich were not originally sought in terms of hypotheses derived
directly from tliis scheme. The case of certain economic market
processes has already been noted. Similar cases at the macrosocial
level are die balance between leadership, decision-making, and
political support,^® and between social status elements and cultural
patterns in the field of ideology. Direct independent research has,
however, also played an important part.^*^
A particularly good example involving the interchange between
the two primar)^ action systems of personality and social system
is the process of socialization of the child, which enters into the

**
Talcott Parsons, ‘Voting* and die Equilibrium of the Amer-
ican Political System,** in Eugene Burdick & Arthur Brodbeck (eds.),
Arnerican Voting Behavior, Glencoe, 111.; The Free Press, 1959.
Perhaps tlie best examples are Neil J. Smelser, Social Change in the
Industrial Revolution, Chicago: Chicago Univ. Press, 1959, and
Winston B. White, Ideology of the Intellectuals (Dissertation), Har-
vard Univ., 1960.
346 • Talcott Parsons

papers of Baldwin and Bronfenbrenner. This is a case where the

socialization system, e.g., of interaction between motlier and child,
is so structured as to produce a major disequilibrium in the per-
sonality of the child. A new
equihbrium can only be attained by a
process of structural change in that system, one of the most impor-
tant aspects of wliich is clearly differentiation.
One important type of operational application of some of these
tlieorems, in whichhave been recently and am currently engaged,
I
concerns tire interpretation of certain broad trends in the large-scale
society, notably the American case. In a number of fields it has
proved to be possible, by interpreting available data (on several
levels) in relatively strict tlieoretical terms, to come to a clear
choice between alternative interpretations of trends. Examples are
(1) trends in the American family; the hypothesis of differentiation
as distinguished from that of disorganization; (2) trends in re-
ligious organization; tire hypotliesis again of differentiation as against
“secularization” in tlie sense of decline in level of religious com-
mitment; (3) trends in the relation of the individual to the group,
in favor of tlie hypothesis of new levels of structural integration
(of “institutionahzed individualism”) as against increased "con-
formism” of the individual; and (4) conceptions of die positively
integrative role of the mass media as opposed to the prevalent
theory of die nature of “mass culture” in a “mass society.”
Perhaps the most important single case, however, is that of the
problem of value-constancy vs. value-change in American society.
Dr. Winston White and I have devoted very careful attention to this
problem and have formulated the case for value-constancy vutii
what we feel to be adequate theoretical clarity and empirical docu-

Cf. Family, Socialization and Interaction Process, Chapter I, Robert

F. Bales, T. Parsons, James Olds, Morris Zelditch, & Philip E. Slater,
Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, 1955.
T. Parsons, “The Pattern of Religious Organization in the Con-
temporary United States,” Structure and Process in Modern Societies,
Chap. 10, op. cit.
20 'p_ Parsons and Winston White, “Tlie Link Between Character and

Society” in Continuities of Social Research, III, The Work of David

Riesman, Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press, unpublished.
21 Cf. T. Parsons and W. R. Wliite, “Tlie Mass Media & the Structure

of American Society” in Journal of Social Issues, January, 1961.

THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 347

mentation. Our position on tliis problem stands in sharp contrast

to what probably the dominant current opinion of American social
is

scientists. It could not have been arrived at and defended without

a substantial element of technical tlaeoretical analysis.^^ S. M. Lipset,

among others, takes a position similar to ours.
I have organized a long discussion around Professor Black’s con-
tribution to die present volume because on the one hand, unlike
that of Professor Devereux, it is critical rather tlian expository, and
because among the critical papers, it is tlie one which raises in
most direct form a number of crucial problems of the status of tlie
theory of action as general tlieory. I am grateful to Black for the
high level on which he has approached tliese problems, and for
his clarity on a number of particular points on which there has
been much misunderstanding, such as the illegitimacy of expecting
immediate and easy translatability of general theory into opera-
tional terms. At the same time it is quite clear that I cannot share
his tlie entei'prise as a whole, including the
negative evaluation of
opinion of being premature in the present state of social science.
its

I have pointed out that Black does not consider any developments
of die scheme since the materials published in 1951. I do not
think his verdict entirely fair for the level on which it stood at
that time. But I also feel that diere has been major progress since
then, progress so important diat it largely invalidates a judgment
made as of the situation ten years ago. I fully recognize, however,
die diflSculty in the position of a critic, not only because of the
considerable volume of relevant writings and die fact that the
position has in fact changed substantially—though I think in the
direction of progressive revision and extension rather than of change
of fundamental position. It has, I tiiink, been a complex, but not

In our opinionby far tlie most sophisticated exponent of tlie thesis

of major value change has been tlie late Clyde Kluckhohn. ( C/, “Have
There Been Discernible Shifts in American Values During the Past
Generation?'’ in The American Style, Elting Morison (ed.), New
York: Harper, 1958. Also “Shifts in American Values” in World
Folitics, Vol. XI, January 1959, No. 2.) My own statement is being
reserv'ed for a general book on American society. A partial statement
of it will be published in the proceedings of the 1960 Conference on
Science, Religion, and Philosophy under the title, “The Cultural Back-
ground of American Religious Organization.”
348 • TalcoU Parsons

an erratic, course. Furthermore, there is still a considerable volume

of unpublished materials—the most important recent published con-
tribution having come too late to be used by any of the contrib-
utors to the present volume— some in process of publication, but
also a good deal not yet even written up in manuscript form but
available only in notes, tabular classifications, and so forth, which
only the author could decipher. With all these difficulties, however,
I feel tliat more than the outhne of a theoretical system of consider-
able scope and power is now available.
That its development is very far from complete goes wthout
saying; if personal experience is any guide I should expect the

changes which will come in the next decade to be as great as

Also the process continues to have tlie pragmatic
tliose of the last.
character to which I referred in the beginning of tlris paper. It is
in the nature of such a process that its products should need careful
critical analysis and codification before a full verdict of their place
in an attempt at developing general theory can be made. Only a
few statements, like tlie ‘Tattern Variables Revisited” paper, can
be direct statements of general theory as such.

Let me now turn to a much briefer consideration of a few of the

problems raised by the contributions to tire volume other than
Black’s. At the outset it should perhaps be stated that my view of
these papers is that they contain a complex combination of points
on which there is excellent understanding and correct evaluation and
some other points of serious misunderstanding. I should like to start
with some of the points in the former category and divide them
into what may be called procedural and substantive points.
With respect to tire former category may I express gratitude for
Black’s statement Brat this kind of enterprise requires a kind of
intellectual daring. Tins weU expresses my own feeling, and I take
itnot simply as a personal tribute, but as an expression of the view
that social science needs more daring in tlie theoretical fields. I
personally of course welcome evidence that more of it is developing,
which indeed seems to be the case. Wliatever tlie adequacies or
inadequacies of my own contributions, on one point my conviction
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AITTHOR * 349

is unshakable, namely, that of the supreme importance of general

dieory in this field, as in others of science. We wll not be scien-
tifically mature until we construct such theory, and that cannot be
achieved alone by empirical research and “letting the facts speak
for themselves”j it can be acliieved only through a great deal of
hard, imaginative, frustrating and daring intellectual work at the
level of theory itself.

A second procedural consideration was indicated by Devereux

which I also take as a tribute, and which points a similar moral;
namely, tliat I have not made have been fortunate
“disciples.” I
in being associated witli a number people— and in
of very able
knowing the work of various others—who have made use of this
conceptual scheme, have worked witli it, have modified, extended
and improved it and indeed at some junctures have gone off on
tracks where I could not follow them. This seems to me to be
entirely normal and desirable. A scientific theory is not something
one “subscribes to” but which one uses, develops, tries out, modifies.
I hope it is possible to keep the distinction clear betw'cen competent

understanding of what has been done, which after all is the

indispensable basis for good criticism positive or negative, and
commitment to doctrines, tlie latter being inevitably grounded in
noncognitive motives. I take it tliat it is tlie latter attitude which
would characterize the disciple as Devereux means the term, and
of these I \vant none. Indeed, the absence of such dependence
(which is characteristically American) seems to me to be an impor-
tant index of scientific maturity.
This relates to a tliird procedural point made by Professor Hacker,
for which I am also grateful. There has of course been a close
connection between tlie persistent criticism of “static bias” discussed
in connection with Black’s paper above, and an alleged “conseiya-
tive” bias in a political [Link] differentiation between scientific
theorizing and the formulation of political attitudes and policies
seems to me to be fundamental to tlie development of science, and
particularly important in the social fields. But since in fact ideology
plays into tliese things so much, it is important to have the record
straight and part of tliis hinges in tliis case upon what is meant by
tlie term “conservative.” Hacker rightly points out that
I personally
hav'e been, tliroughout my adult life as it happens, a relatively
350 • Talcott Parsons

typical American “egghead” intellectual, a New Dealer and Fair

Dealer, and in general inclined to support the Democratic party,
on its “liberal” side. In terms of tire American pohtical spectrum
of course tlris is well to tlie left, and certainly not conservative in
tliesense in wliicli a Robert Taft or a Herbert Hoover, or even an
Eisenhower, have been conservatives. It is apparently too conserva-
tive for Hacker, and of course for a good many otlier American
intellectuals, especially those who tliink in more or less Marxist
terms, but that is another issue.
Both Devereux and Wilhams, as I have already noted, are very
straightforward and unequivocal in presenting what, to me, is the
correct intei-pretation of tlie significance of and attitude toward
the problem of order in my work. This of course is that the basis
of social order is inherently problematical and, in the nature of the
case, had form one of the major foci of preoccupation for socio-
to
logical theory, as was particularly true for the group of European
treated in the Structure of Social Action. Tliis applies most
tlieorists

exphcitly to the position of Durkheim. To interpret diis concern

for order, as a tlieoretical problem, as justifying the allegation of
a bias in favor either of static problems over dynamic, or of con-
formity over originahty or creativity is, as I have stated, a gross
distortion. I am indeed grateful to tliese two contributors for setting
the record straight on this very fundamental point.
The sociological solution of the problem of order is, as I have
stated above, an analysis of the part played in social systems by
institutionahzed patterns of normative culture. Institutionalization
here clearly involves more than the autliority of Hobbes’ sovereign;
it implies, so far as autliority is concerned, legitimation in ‘Weber’s

sense, and a whole range of mechanisms involving the maintenance

and operation of values and norms in all spheres of social life, not
only the political. Institutionahzation, however, would not be pos-
sible if tlie relation of the institutional structure of die society to the
other structures and to the “interests” of individuals were either
random or were based only on the coercive type of control through
negative sanctions. Professors Morse, Baldwin, and Landsberger
all present very fundamental insights into different phases of this

essential point.
In tlie case of Morse it concerns the problem of die social environ-
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 351

ment of the economy, taken as adiflFerentiated subsystem of a com-

plex society. Of course in some sense every economist has been

aware tliat tliere was such an environment, since after all economic
tlieoiy is not a theory of society as a whole, and hence aware tliat
in some sense this environment was stimctured. At the same time
it has been a glaring gap in the main traditions of economic theory

that scarcely any serious attempt has been made to tackle this
problem in genuinely theoretical tenns. On tlie contrary, the t}^ical
procedure of economists has been to follow tlirough the logic of
economic tlieory as far as it would take them and then to jump
to a series of ad hoc common sense qualifications of the economic
scheme, knowing, of course, that it does not take adequate account
.
of noneconomic factors.
The tacit assumption is that the noneconomic factors cannot be
analyzed on a level of theoretical specificity comparable to that of
economic theory and, even if they could, no theoretically specific
between the economic and the noneconomic schemes
articulation
can be established.^^
It is precisely as an attempt to get out of this scientifically im-
possible impasse, that I should like to have the work of Smelser
and myself on tliis problem judged. A partial, and hence far from
satisfactoiy, approach to it was worked out years ago in the Structure

of Social Action. Economy and Society, however, represents in my

opinion a very substantial advance.
The essential point there is the treatment of tlie historic economic
classifications of the factors of production—land, labor, capital and
organization— and the corresponding shares of income, as special
cases of the categories of input and output respectively, interpreted
as the inputs and outputs of a subsystem of a total society from and
to the other subsystems. Given tliis orientation it is then possible to
interpret tlie sources and destinations of these inputs and outputs as

Though it is an old book, Lionel Robbins’ 'Nature and Significance

of Economics has never been thoroughly transcended witliin the main

traditions of economics, in its explicit position that the “environment”
of economic behavior must be treated as theoretically random. C/,
my critique, “Some Reflections on The Nature and Significance of
Economics,** Quarterly Journal of Economics, XLVIII, pp. 511-545,
352 • Talcott Parsons

theoretically specific; thus, for instance, the labor-consumption

boundary of tlie economy is to be interpreted as standing vis-a-vis the
pattern-maintenance subsystem of the society, which includes the
primary functional reference of the family household.
If such an interchange is one operating between a subsystem with
primacy of economic, i.e., in the technical economic sense “pro-
ductive” function, and one of px’imarily noneconomic function in
the society, then the stability of the interchange must, on the prin-
ciples stated above, be dependent on a balance of the conditions
important on both sides. Thus, in interchanges betw^een firms and
households, the economic primacy of the firm, which, in a differ-
entiated economy, is organized about the criterion of solvency in
the relevant sense, must be balanced with the consumption tastes
and the security interests of households. To be sure, households
also are typically subject to the standard of solvency in the sense
that the money expenses of the operation of the normal household
are expected to be covered by the money income members.
of its

But in the case of the firm it is its productive eflSciency which must
be matched against the conditions of solvency, whereas in that of
the household it is what might be called the integrity of its pattern
of life.

The most essential point tliat Morse makes is, as I understand it,

that the historic pattern of economic theory really makes no pro-

vision for the analysis of this essential balancing; it tends to treat
every interchange which is in any sense economic, as either
“governed” by principles of economic rationality or “deviant” in
this respect or some combination of these. Hence, in tlie fields men-
tioned for illustration, the diflBculty exists of a satisfactory theoretical
treatment of the problems of consumption and standards of living
on the one hand, and of the structure of the labor market, the role of
trade unions, and so forth, on the other.
It would follow from the position Smelser and I have taken that

the nearest approaches to the theoretical economists conception of

theoretical fit would be found in interchanges internal to the econ-
omy and that, as the interchanges over its boundaries are ap-
proached, progressively greater modifications of these dieoretical
patterns become necessary for adequate interpretation. It is Ins
clear insight into this crucial point which, to my mind, is the great
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR • 353

merit of Morse's analysis, and with it the realization tliat, to reach

a higher level of theoretical generality, economic theory must be
substantially .modified to make possible its theoretical integration
with tlie other branches of the theory of social systems.
In a very different empirical field, Baldwin emphasizes a different
special case of the same basic theoretical point. He calls attention

to the fact that psychologists very generally have failed to give

explicit consideration to the structure of the situation in which the
personalities of individuals function. They have, rather, tended to
treat stimuli as giveu in the situation, and hence in principle dis-
crete, and then to try to trace the consequences for the individual
of exposure to different classes of stimuli in different states of the
personality system. He then speaks of my own contributions in
this field as important in placing a very strong emphasis on the
structure of the situation.
This is correct, and a most welcome recognition. For tlie human
personality the particularly important point is that the ‘stimulus
situation” ofprimary importance is the social and cultural environ-
ment which it functions. This is crucial from the earliest begin-
in
nings of what we call tlie process of socialization. It is a point on
which I think Freud had the basically correct insight, especially in
the sense in which his “reality principle” in practice, in the field
of object relations,was interpreted to mean the reality of social
interaction. But this means that, in turn, the structure of that
environment is the structure of tlie nesting series of social and
cultural systems in which the individual is placed and tliat, if it
is to be taken into account in a
technically tlieoretical sense, it
must be through their analysis as such systems in their own right,
e.g., for the case of socialization starting with the nuclear family.-**
The theory of action, which treats social systems and personality
systems as subsystems of the same more general system of action,
IS in my opinion better equipped to carry through the implications

I am aware that, in Familtj, Socialization ,,, op. cit., the analysis

of the postoedipal phases of socialization and the social structure into
which tliey was sketchy and incomplete. This gap has been par-
fit

tially filled two subsequent papers; namely, Parsons & Wliite, “The
in
Link Between Character op. cit., and “The School Class as a
. .

Social System,'" Harvard Educational Review, Fall, 1959.

354 • Talcott Parsons

of this essential insight tl)an previous conceptual schemes. I hope

it is clear to the reader that the nature of the tl^eoretical problem

is directly parallel to that of the boundaries of the economy just

discussed. The tendency has been to treat the theory of personality
as an entirely independent scheme which was not in any specific
sense theoretically articulated ^vith either social or cultural system
theory, tliough in the latter case the “culture and personality”
school have made certain (to me) rather unsatisfactory attempts.
But if personality is in fact a subsystem of a more comprehensive
system, then for it to be satisfactorily analyzed, it is necessary to
work out its specific articulations with the other subsystems on
which it impinges and with which it carries on input-output inter-
changes. Technical consideration of the sti'ucture of its environment
is the first essential step in such a program, but in my opinion

only the first step. Certain further ones lead into the problem
Baldwin refers to as that of the “isomoi-phism” between social sys-
tems and personalities, on which I will say a word presently.
When it comes to the treatment of formal organizations as sub-
systems of a society the same order of problem arises. Especially
with the prominence accorded to the problems of the relation
between fonnal and informal organization in the more sociological
area of American work in this field, it is natural that primar}^
emphasis should have been placed on the internal problems of
organizations such as the line-staff problem, the clique problem
and various others. The logic of this tendency is exactly like that of
personality psychology; the social envuronment of the organization
has tended to be treated as unproblematical (a position standing
in extreme antithesis to the “pure” economic theory of the firm as
only a pinpoint at which money income and expenditure are in
balance— or notin balance, as the case may be. ) It is, in my view,
the greatest merit of Landsberger’s paper that its author has
emphasized the importance given to the social environment of the
organization as one major basis on which analysis of tire internal
differentiation of structure and functions has to be approached.
There are, both in his and in Whyte’s paper, complaints about my
not having said enough concerning internal function or organization.
But the critical point is recognition of the importance of dealing
with tills neglected problem area, and of die place of the problems
THE PODSIT OF VIEW OF THE AtrmOR 355

concerned in the larger theoretical framework. What I have in

mind here is tlie distinction between what I have called the tech-
nical, tlie managerial and the “institutional” or fiduciary components

in tlie functions of an organization and the ways in which these

distinctions play into the organization s relations to its environment.^®
It can thus, I hope, be seen tliat tlie three problems have in com-
mon a certain “atomism” of theoretical tradition
their reference to
an element wliich I interpret to be a heritage
in the social sciences,
from utihtarianism. The same problems arise again at the level of
‘‘behavior” psychology in the Hullian tradition of focusing on
discrete “stimulus-response” units and at various other points. The
countervaihng emphasis oh the structure of environments is directly
connected with that on and their relation to
levels of organization
cybernetic control, which has come up again and again. In tliis
connection, then, it can be seen to be an essential point that in the
environments of each of the three systems dealt with in these papers,
there is a set of components which is hierarchically superordinate
to tlie system of reference.
Though what on various occasions I have called the polity stands
in this relation to
the economy, the case of greatest sociological
interest isthe integrative subsystem of tlie society with its frame-
work of institutionalized norms. In the case of tlie economy tliis
includes above all the institutional complexes having to do with
rights in possessions and witli the structure of markets; namely,
'

contract, employment and property {cf. Economy and Society,

Chap. Ill), but of course others, notably for the firm as an organi-
zation, authority.

For the case of the personahty system it is crucial that in the

general hierarchy of action both social and cultural systems are
superordinate to personahties; in a sensewhich must be very care-
fiiUy interpreted—it is
emphatically not a sense which is incom-
patible ivith the value-complex
of individuahsm. Similarly, the
environment of formal organizations includes, of course, access to
facilities and channels
of disposal, but it also includes an institu-

“Some Ingredients . .'. Structure h- Process in Modem So-

cieties, op. cit.. Chap. II; and Robert K. Merton, Leonard Broom, &
Leonard S. Cottrell, Jr., (eds.), Sociolovi Today, Chap. I, New
York: Basic Books, Inc., 1959.
356 • Talcott Parsons

framework of norms and values, which above all impinge

tionalized
on the organization through what I have called the institutional
or fiduciary complex.
It therefore seems to me to be justified to assert that the concept
of tlie institutionalization and/or internalization of the structure of
superordinate systems—in the specific sense of the hierarchy of con-
trol of action systems— is one crucial common feature of the relation
of every system or subsystem of action to its environment.^'^
This relationshipthe basis of the very fundamental proposition,
is

stated above, that the structure of systems of action consists in insti-

tutionalized and internalized patterns of normative culture. Mean-
ing, in the cultural sense, is tlie master category of tlie structure of
systems of action, a proposition wliich is expressed in the placing
of the cultmral system at the top of the cybernetic hierarchy for
action as a whole. Then the basic condition of the integration of
systems of action in this hierarchical direction is that each system
in the series should spell out or “actualize,” for its specified condi-
tions, the implications of the meanings institutionalized ( or internal-
ized) in the next-Irigher system. For the case of social systems we
refer to this as the specification of the cultural values to the level
of the functioning of a social system.
The problem of the “isomorpliism” of personality and social sys-
tems, which bothers Baldwin so seriously, is a special case of tliis

general problem of action systems. To me the term “isomorphism” is

a dubious one, because me

it seems to to claim too much. What I

contend is that an essential set of components are common to

systems which, like personality and social system, are adjacent in

the hierarchical series. This is the problem which, on various

occasions,^^ I have formulated as that of the interpenetration

between systems. It involves an .element of common structure
which, in its own by the lower-
genetic history, has been acquired
order system in the specific sense of this discussion— in the course
of interaction with the higher-order system, the protot)'pical case
being socialization of the individual. In this sense the main outline

of tlie structure of human personalities consists in the social object

I call the cultural system is clearly a limiting case in iliis

respect. Cf. “Culture and the Social. System,” op.- cU.

E.g., “An Approach to Psychological Theory op. cH.

THE rOLNT OF %TE\V OF THE AXmiOR * 357

systems which have been internalized in the course of the indi-

vidual’s life history. I am aware that tliis is a radical proposition,
and that it is imacceptable to Baldwin, but it seems to me to

be essential."®
The other side of the question, which bears with it the reason
why the term “isomorphism” is a dubious one, is tliat each of these
two systems, like any differentiated pair, is grounded in different
e.'dgcncies, so that, given certain of the same structural pattern
components, tlie empirical and dynamic problems are typically
different in each case. In the case at hand, social systems are
grounded, at this level, in the exigencies of tlie interaction of
pluralities of persons. Their goals must ultimately be oriented to
the motivational needs and interests of individuals; their adaptive
interestsmust be concerned wdth the environment wdiich is common
to indiriduals and groups, not the least important aspect of which

is the cultural, and their integrative problems are by definition

interpersonal. For personalities, on tlie other hand, tlie exigencies

are quite different. Their goals must be organized about the
structure of the social situation of the individual, the obverse of the
case for the person. The cultural tradition is, to be sure, an environ-
mental element common
to the two, though in different contexts.
But their integrative exigencies are intrapersonal. Finally, the per-
sonalit)’ of the individual has a special direct relation to the living
organism wdiich, in the case of the social system, is indirect rather
than direct, Tliis relation has, in my opinion, been most forcefully
formulated, in modem psychology, by Freud in die concept of the Id
and its relation to the pleasure principle. Whatever the “biological”
factor in the concrete functioning of societies, it is clearly not an

id in die Freudian sense.

In Baldw'in’s argument I sense an anxiety that personality tlieory
Mill somehow’ be “reduced” to social system terms and the sociol-
ogists will then “take over.” The [Link] is surely groundless. To be

it has been most fully developed in tlie paper

case
“Social Stnietureand the De\'elopment of Personalitj’,” ’Psijchiainj,
November, 1958. To me it is ratlier. surprising that neither Baldwin
nor Bronfenbrenner seems to take account of what I feel to be tlie
important advances documented in tliis paper over tlie position taken
in Family, Socialization . . . , op. cit.
.

358 • Talcott Parsons

sure, Durklieim,
under the stress of insisting that the “social” com-
ponent could not be neglected, sometimes seemed to assert that
what was not social was “purely” biological. But we have gone
beyond Durkheim in this respect. Baldwin himself is very clear
tliat much of psychological tradition has grossly neglected the social
component. Once this historic imbalance—and I claim sti-enuously
that it has, in the main been an imbalance
traditions of psychology,
—is no fundamental difficulty in arriving at a hroad
righted, I see
definition of the relations of the components which should prove
to be acceptable to the respective professional groups. And more
important, this definition can provide a basis on which not only
each group can go about its business, but also the increasingly impor-
tant area of articulation and interpeneti'ation can be investigated
without bogging down in what are, at the professional level, essen-
tially ideological controversies. At any rate, as I see it, the sphere

left for the theorist of personahty within the psychological traffition

is not only not unduly restricted by the theory of action, but the

range of baffling and challenging problems is immense. Sociologists

are going to have quite enough to do in other fields without attempt-
ing to usurp this one.
It should go without saying that the same principles apply to
other cases of the interpenetration of adjacent systems as to that
of social system and personality. In my opinion tire fact of inter-
penetration is crucial, but so also is tliat of the independence of the
systems from each other in the analytical sense of independence.
Like the famous case of heredity environment, it is not a case of
one or the otlier, but of understanding of the complex ways in
which both are involved and interact.
There is a considerable range of further problems discussed in
tire various contributions to tiiris volume which, if there were space

available, it would be fruitful to take up. As already noted, however

it has seemed to me more important to use the space available

mainly to attempt to clarify some of the central problems of the status

of the action scheme at the level of general theory, even at the
risk of relative neglect of a more specific problems
number of the
which have loomed largest in the minds of a number of contributors.
The main justifications of this policy seem to me to be two. The
first is that, as a theorist in tlris field, I have laid a particularly
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR • 359

strong stress on the importance of general theory and invested a

larger part of my own efforts in this direction than otliers have
and hence am perhaps especially qualified to speak on this level.
Second, it seems to me that if some of the basic questions which
have been reviewed here can be cleared up at the level of general
theory it should help enormously to clarify the problems which
liave to be faced in the "middle ranges” by providing criteria for

approaching many of these problems. I have tried to illustrate

tliis in tlie last few pages by taking up the relation of the problem

of the structure of environments of subsystems to the general prob-

lem of order which is such a central over-all theme and to the
status of the hierarchy of control. I hope I have been able to con-
\dnce tlie reader that, precisely on tlie level of general theory, the
problem is essentially die same for the economy in relation to the
institutional order of the society, for die personality in relation to
the social object systems, and for the formal organization in rela-
tion to its social environment. Morse, Baldwin, and Landsberger
tend to treat these as discrete problems and of course as such they
are the fully legitimate concern of specialists in each field. But in
the present context die common element is of crucial significance,
since it is only by demonstrating the presence and importance of
such common elements that the land of codification of these many
fields under a single theoretically integrated conceptual scheme can
be worked out.
In the meantime I am acutely aware that a number of authors
are unsatisfied on a number of issues; e.g., Whyte on "where is die
action in action?”, Bronfenbrenner on the psychology of identifica-
tion, particularly at specific operational levels, and Hacker on die

place and amount of conflict in American society. My only excuse

for not going farther toward attempting to satisfy diem, and of
course others on other points, is that, wdiin the limits of a single
rather long essay, it is not possible to do everydiing which might
be relevant. My selection has been made in the light of my own
judgment of the most strategic issues, but of course tliis judgment
may well be fallible. In any case, diis seems to me to be an excellent
example of die difiBculties of integration of such a variegated field
as tliat involved in
the present volume. It makes it quite clear diat
attainment of the ultimate goal is still very far ahead, that goal
360 • Talcott Parsons

being a unified conceptual scheme which is taken for granted in

the relevant professions and, as a matter of course, used as the base
of operations for exploring the problems on the new frontiers ol
knowledge. Whatever the final judgment on my own contributions,
I am deeply convinced that tire ultimate development of such a
scheme is essential and tliat the general trend of intellectual history
is in tliat direction.

In conclusion perhaps may

attempt to ground the above con-
I
viction by very briefly raising a few questions about tliis major
trend. I have suggested above that the “modern” level of sociologi-
cal flunking has emerged from the intellectual “marriage” between
the utihtarian and the more collectivistic elements in the main
Western traditions of social thought. This general theme can, I
think, be generahzed to the treatment of action as a whole) indeed
even more broadly to tire phenomena of life if not even to include
the physical world.
( seems to me to follow from this view that neither old-style
It
“atomism,” nor in certain meainings of the_ term “individualism,”
nor old-style “ideahsm,” is tenable any more. Because of certain
features of American cultural liistory tliere is little probabihty that
idealistic theories will gain ascendancy, though there has been a
definite strain of tins sort in much American antlxropology in the
tradition of Boas. There are, however, three major cases of the
atomistic orientation which have played a very important role.
These are, first, tire theory of “economic individualism,” including
itsgeneralization in a Spencerian type of individualistic rationalism;
second, what may be called personaHty-focused individualism, with
itsoverwhelming suspicion of any independent integrative signifi-
cance attributed to society or culture—Floyd Allport’s Institutional
Behavior was a major document of this view of a generation ago;
and third, what may be called “behavioristic atomism” of which tlie
hypostatization by HuU and his followers of the “S-R” unit is the
prime example.
It is my contention that this old-style utilitarian atomism is no
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR • 361

longer tenable on any of these levels; as I have noted, it cannot

account for tlie fundamental phenomena of organization. To put it
ver)' schematically, on tlie level of the behavioral organism this

view has been made untenable by the work of the “ecologists,” by

the Tolman type of theory, and not least by recent work on brain
functioning. On the level of the personality it is made untenable
by Freud above all, as well asby Kurt Lewin, Murray, Ericson, and
others. On the level of social systems it can be said that its demise

was clearly foreshadowed in 1848, the year in which the last great
utilitarian document—John Stuart Mill’s Principles of Political
Economi/— coincided in publication with the Communist Manifesto.
It is no accident that the problem of socialism was not only
politically but also intellectually so salient in the late 19th century in
the West. There seems to me to be no doubt that, along with various
others, Marx was perhaps the most important original “go-between”
of the marriage of die two basic traditions we are discussing. But
the marriage was consummated, not in the work of Marx, but in
the work of a generation following him, of which the critical names
are Durkheim, Weber, and Freud, The very fact that all three
were more scientists than they were political figures has obscured
thdr basic significance relative to Marx.
I am very happy to acknowledge that, on the sociological level,

Marx is one of die sjunbolic “grandfadiers” of die theory of action.

MarXj however, as Schumpeter made so clear, (Capitalism, Socialism
and Democracy) had a dual personahty, as social scientist and as
revolutionary leader. The first condition of his fathering a science
was the differentiation of the two components, a process which, by
and large, did not occur until the next generation. In spite of
ambivalences on this point, the three great figures just named were,
m a sense in wliich tiiis was not true
for Marx, in the first instance
scientists.

/;
To me, what I call the theory of action was, in its core—which
I lake to
be the social system in its relation to the personality of
ye indiiadual—founded in the generation of Durkheim, Weber, and
reud, uidi of course
a very complex set of other influences, a
ew of which have been
mentioned here. With die very perceptible
influence of die older economic individualism— in its
scientific rather than political reference—
and die older personality-
362 • Talcott Parsons

individualism, it is a striking fact that general orientations in tliis

field have, in recent years,tended increasingly to polarize betsveen

a nondogmatic and nonpolitical “Marxian” position and one winch
in the broadest sense may be called one or another version of the
theory of action.^^ The most important exception to this is probably
the influence of the “culture and personality” school which is an
attempted direct fusion of the atomistic and idealistic trends,^® as
distinguished from what I have symbolized as a “marriage.”
Seen in the perspective of recent intellectual history, it seems to
me to be an inescapable conclusion that the relation between the
Marxian type of thought and that represented by the turn of the
century generation of action theorists is one of sequence in a

definite developmental trend. Relative to its antecedents, clearly

the Marxian ti'end is an advance at tire level of general theory. It
is not, for my purposes however, important so much as a “mate-

rialistic” inteiTretation, as it is as a less differentiated basis of

analysis of tire great problems of cultures, personalities, and social

systems as they arise for social scientists in our day.

This is the main perspective in which I hope evaluation of the
conceptual scheme discussed here as the “tlieoiy of action” will

settle down. It is my own profound conviction, which I both believe

and hope to be justified, that the developments under discussion in
tliis volume are deeply rooted in the main trends of tlie intellectual

development of our age. Their base-line of reference is a great

synthesis which was achieved in the generation preceding our§— as
the editors of Theories of Society have placed it, roughly 1890-1935.
This syntliesis has provided an essentially new orientation for
general theorizing over a wide range of concerns with human

23
Cf. S. M. Lipset, review of B. Moore, Jr., Political Power
and
Social Theory, in tlie American Sociological Review, April, 1960.
23 Full documentation of this judgment would require an [Link]

essay in intellectual history. The most striking evidence is the curious

affinity between Boasian “culture” theory, from configuration version
to trait version, with Hullian learning theory, via a very specially
selective use of psychoanalytic theory centering on the alleged
specificities of tlie efects of very particular cliild training practices.
The similarity of tire logical structure of this body of drought widr
that of German idealistic thought of the late 19th century is striking
indeed. Cf. Talcott Parsons, Structure of Social Action, Chaps. XIII
and XVI, New York: McGraw-Hill, 1937.
THE POINT OF VIEW OF THE AUTHOR * 363

behavior, but also witli a new emphasis, even in the case of Freud,
on tlie social dimensions of the organization of behavior.
Development from tliis base-line must, as I see it, follow some-
thing of die type of pragmatic pattern I have outlined in the
first main section of this paper. For it even to attempt to jump

directly to the deductive system would be entirely out of tune

with die main spirit of the great tradition in which diis scheme
purports to have a place. But within this framework, it attempts
to make dieory better integrated, more precise, more explicit, more
wide-ranging in its empirical references. As an essential part of this
task it attempts as systematically as possible to codify empirical
knowledge and to integrate the empirical generalizations which
can be related to it directly with die propositions of general theory.
If it is judged that this has in fact been an authentic tradition of
modern intellectual development, and tiiat the theory of action
has made some important contribution to clarification, generaliza-
tion, and codification within it, it should follow that everything con-
sidered we have made a step toward better scientific understanding
of the human condition
as a result of tiiis work. Such a judgment
would be an ample reward for whatever efforts have gone into
it. The work of the Cornell group, as documented in this volume,

has, at the very least, served to bring the problems of whether

such a judgment is justified much more sharply into focus tiian
would have been possible without it.