Abstract
Every Christian ethicist and moral theologian shapes their work in dialogue with the structures of society and the forces of culture. Yet, few members of our guild are able to distinctly describe where structure ends, where culture begins, and how these dynamics impact on the individual person or the particular community. This book serves as an introduction to the sociological approach known as ‘critical realism’, which the authors maintain offers rich potential to sharpen and deepen our discipline’s discussion of how agency intersects with structure and culture.
It is a primer, but one probably not geared initially for the classroom. The anticipated audience are Christian social ethicists. It is an edited volume, but the different authors have arranged their respective chapters elegantly so that it reads like a book written in chorus, as against a line of separate soloists. It is notable for its brevity, all the more impressive because it does not lack heft when it comes to the ideas it unfolds.
Critical realism is a sociological school that emerged from Roy Bhaskar’s work in the philosophy of science. Along with Bhaskar, key figures associated with the approach include Tony Lawson, Andrew Collier, and Margaret Archer, who writes the Foreword in this volume. In David Cloutier’s opening chapter, critical realism is positioned as a method that rejects the reductionisms which present the ethical life entirely in terms of individual moral choice or entirely in terms of structural or cultural forces. It also rejects simplistic efforts to present a ‘“both/and” balance between them . . . without attending to the fundamental reductionism that creates the duplex model in the first place’ (p. 3). The contention of this chapter is that by borrowing this method, every genre of Christian social ethical reflection—he draws on Gustafson’s four-fold categorization of prophetic discourse, narrative discourse, ethical discourse, and policy discourse (pp. 1–2)—will be sharpened.
The second chapter, from Theodora Hawksley, is perhaps the stand-out contribution in the book. It is a worked example of how critical realist approaches sharpen our theological thinking, taking the concept of structural sin as discussed in Catholic moral theology as her example. Hawksley offers a valuable genealogy of the idea before exposing the ways in which its deployment falls short. Recognising that there are delicate issues to be parsed between the agency of the individual and the force of the social in such questions, she concludes that this is an area where the proposed moral description ‘simply does not work’ (p. 14). Critical realism is an aid in this situation because of its articulation of how the structures of society do have a real impact on the individual’s moral agency without over-riding that agency, and those structures are always more than merely the sum total of individual actors’ contributions. Hawksley’s claims here are valuably humble. She does not see this as a baptism project where we Christian-ise a sociological method. Rather, it is an example of that time-honoured practice of the church to borrow something useful from elsewhere. Why? Because for our contemporary purposes ‘critical realism basically works’ (p. 10).
It is only in the third chapter, by Daniel K. Finn, that we get to a formal description of what critical realism is. But this superficially odd arrangement makes perfect sense because this is not a primer on critical realism, but a primer on using critical realism for theological purposes. Cloutier and Hawksley have demonstrated that function before Finn unpacks the method in a little detail. His description presents critical realism as a response to empiricist reductionism, a reflection on the significance of emergence, and as sufficiently nuanced to aid theological reflection. To say that structures, for example, emerge out of individual action, is to say more than that they are the sum total of such actions. Just as two hydrogen atoms combine with an atom of oxygen to make something categorically new and distinct in itself, structure and culture emerge from the agency of human actors but cannot be reduced to them. This view of reality, which encompasses the empirical, the actual, and the ‘transfactual forces that generate the events that occur’ is, we are promised, ‘of great benefit to ethical reflection’ (p. 26).
In chapter 4, Daniel K. Finn explains in more detail how critical realism understands social structures and in chapter 5, Matthew A. Shadle unpacks the method’s meaning for culture. These are clear and succinct summaries of concepts that already entail an exhaustive supporting literature. Social structures—which have some material composition so that the term applies to universities, traffic systems and chess clubs—are defined as ‘the system of relations among the various social positions that make it up’ (p. 30). The social structure provides us with roles—assistant dean, jaywalker, three-time champion—which are marked by ‘restrictions, opportunities, and incentives’ (p. 31) that play a role in the agency afforded to the individual occupying the role. This precise delineation allows the scholar engaging in critical realism to resist the flat readings that seek to emphasise structural influence or individual autonomy to the exclusion of all other factors. This descriptive arrangement is completed when we account for culture systems, which Shadle explains is ‘the body of ideas and knowledge available to society at a given time’ (p. 47). At this half-way point, the book has given the reader a very clear idea of how critical realism facilitates scholarship that recognises how social structure, cultural systems and the individual are mutually conditioning in a complex and interwoven fashion. The potential gain for theological reflection is evident. It will be an inevitable gain if the topography of the many-layered reality we occupy is better described.
In chapter 6, David Cloutier considers critical realism as a tool for considering climate change and in chapter 7, Matthew A. Shadle explores how it might illuminate economic thinking. When it comes to environmental questions, Cloutier unpacks how significant theological concepts such as Pope Francis’s ‘integral ecology’ run the risk of being merely theoretical without the ability, provided by critical realism, to ‘pinpoint’ those spaces between structure, culture and agency where change can happen (p. 70). Matthew Shadle’s consideration of the economic sphere draws out how critical realism harmonises with Catholic social teaching accounts of how the person is embedded within the community. He particularly highlights the possibility of theology engaging fruitfully with the emerging field of institutional economics which draws on critical realist methods (pp. 82–84).
In the concluding chapter, Daniel J. Daly examines how critical realism might intersect with virtue ethics. Even after its generation-long renaissance, Daly contends that ‘virtue ethics has been sociologically undertheorized’ (p. 90). Taking MacIntyre and Hauerwas as representative of this tradition, Daly notes that these thinkers can describe the individual embedded in communities where they are formed by shared narratives, but they become considerably less articulate or even fall silent when we ask basic questions like ‘what is community, and how do the members of a community use narrative to shape the characters of its members?’ (p. 91). Moral Agency within Social Structures and Culture is sub-titled as a ‘primer’ but it is perhaps better described as an apologetic endeavour, an invitation to join with these scholars in a method they clearly have relished implementing in their own work. This sense comes through most clearly in Daly’s chapter as he lists six different trajectories through which virtue ethicists could deploy critical realism and then nine different areas for more general further research. Young, sociologically-minded theologians will surely encounter the Muse on those pages.
An Afterword is provided by Lisa Sowle Cahill. She shares the enthusiasm of the main authors, concluding that critical realism ‘offers a more precise way for Christian ethicists and other theologians to speak of how social structures and culture influence moral agency’, and how structure frames opportunity or lack thereof, how social sin can be described accurately and how social change can be achieved (p. 104).
The book finishes with a brief guide to further reading, which is impressively targeted and surely an aid to people coming new to a field that is already extensive. This feature testifies to the great attraction of this volume. It is a brief, accessible and enthusiastic introduction to a method that will surely be of benefit to many. As a primer, all it can do and all it intends to do is to generate sufficient interest so that the reader will go further. Even for those whose work may not be strengthened by the critical realist toolkit, the book is a useful window into the approaches of its authors, who are some of the most interesting moral theologians working today.
A Lego kit is composed of many little pieces and typically comes with instructions for two or three different projects for construction. But Lego only becomes a family’s favourite game when the players transcend the accompanying manuals and start building whatever can be imagined. I trust the authors of Moral Agency within Social Structures and Culture understand I do not mean to trivialise their efforts when I compare the book to a Lego set. They give us the basic parts and show how they could be assembled in a few different ways to work around ecology or economics or virtue, but it really only comes into its own when it is supplemented by more pieces and those using the tools grow in confidence and skill so as to deploy them to suit their ends. This is a book that can be judged as a success if it increases the stack of books waiting for the reader.
While clearly seeking collaborators in theologising with critical realist approaches, the authors are sufficiently disciplined to ensure that the book never feels like a sales pitch. Residual questions remain about whether elegant research developed with critical realist tools can translate as effectively as they contend into the real world. My own work engages directly with policymakers in Ireland and the commitment to a certain kind of ‘evidence-based’ decision-making that is prevalent causes me to wonder whether the only arguments that really hold sway are those phrased in terms of cost-benefit in cash terms. But after reading this book, I can at least see that if nothing else, that dynamic can be accurately described using the tools of critical realism. This is a fine little book of wide relevance.