Critical Voices

Numerous aspects of Bourdieu’s work have been criticized (e.g. Jenkins, 1992 and 2005;

Alexander, 1995; King, 2000; Barnes, 2000; Noble and Watkins, 2003). One criticism takes issue with Bourdieu’s theory as a ‘Grand Theory’—a term which in this context is not meant as a compliment but as a critique of theoretical frameworks that are disconnected from empirical foundations. With reference to Mills (1959), Walther (2014, p. 21) describes Grand Theories as theories that come across as non-concrete, confused verbiages more than as theories that allow any firm connection to social problems. Along the same lines, Latour (2005a, pp. 154–155), in criticising the use by social scientists of concepts such as ‘contexts’ and ‘frameworks’ as a way to explain the social, says the following with direct reference to Bourdieu: “Bravo, bravissimo!

So an actor for you is some fully determined agent, plus a placeholder for a function, plus a bit of perturbation, plus some consciousness provided by enlightened social scientists? […] Great job, Student! Bourdieu could not have done better.” Objections are also directed specifically to Bourdieu’s theoretical concepts, with critics pointing to the plurality and indeterminateness of their meanings and their alleged theoretical inadequacy (Nash, 2003; Jenkins, 2005; Segre, 2014). Jenkins (2005, p. 70), for example, one of the most critical interpreters of Bourdieu, writes that habitus as a source of behaviours is “at best not clear, and at worst, mysterious”.

Other criticisms of Bourdieu’s work concern its economism and its “homogenisation of fields”

(Friedland, 2009; Swartz, 1997; Alexander, 1995), its neglect of materiality (Dominguez Rubio and Silva, 2013; Friedland, 2009; Friedland, Mohr, Roose and Gardinali, 2014; Latour, 2005a), and its emphasis on binary oppositions of cultural and economic capital to the extent that his work neglects other structured relations such as gender (Townley, 2014). Scholars have also commented on the inaccessibility of Bourdieu’s language and writing style. Jenkins (1992, p. 1), for example, describes Bourdieu’s writing as “unnecessarily long-winded, obscure, complex and intimidatory”, adding that “He [Bourdieu] does not have to write in this fashion to say what he wants to say”. And while Bourdieu aims to reconcile structuralism and voluntarism (i.e. macro and micro levels of analysis), his critics point out that his work strongly favours a structuralist perspective. Nash (1999), for example, argues that Bourdieu neither defines ‘structure’ nor uses the term in a consistent way. Hillebrandt (1999) states that Bourdieu is first and foremost a macro-sociological structuralist who is particularly interested in the determination of social

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agents by macro structures and resulting influences from the social field—a criticism of the alleged determinism in Bourdieu’s theoretical framework and the inability of this framework to allow for change since it leaves no room for individual agency (King, 2000; Bouveresse, 1995;

Brubaker, 1985; Jenkins, 1982 and 1992).

While such critics challenge Bourdieu’s theoretical framework, however, it is also abundantly clear that they find it worthwhile engaging with Bourdieu’s work. In the view of Jenkins (1992, p. 2), Bourdieu is “enormously good to think with. His work invites, even demands, argument and reflection”.

In the remainder of this section I elaborate on the alleged determinism of Bourdieu’s conceptual framework and the critique concerning Bourdieu’s homogenisation of fields, since these

discussions are particularly relevant and enlightening for my work, especially the two papers

‘Unlikely Mediators? The Malleable Concept of Sustainability’ and ‘Capital in Formation: What is at stake in the Textile and Fashion Industry?’, as well as for the conclusion to this thesis.

There has been much debate about the degree of agency within Bourdieu’s theoretical

framework. Some critics claim that this framework presents a deterministic conception of social life in which individual agents are passive, pulled and pushed into actions and positions in life by structural forces (Bottero and Crossley, 2011; Jenkins 1982 and 1992; Noble and Watkins, 2003; Mukerji, 2014). According to such readings of Bourdieu’s work, it is difficult to see any room for individual choice or possibilities for individuals to free themselves from

circumstances. Although Bourdieu often frames habitus as “regulated improvisations”

(Bourdieu, 1980/1990, p. 57), it is, according to Jenkins (1992), the functionalism of habitus as

“structured structure” (Bourdieu, 1980/1990, p. 53) that predominates. And indeed it is the case that reproduction, i.e. the means by which systems of domination are reproduced without conscious intention by agents, was a central issue for Bourdieu. Many scholars within the field of organization and management studies have thus employed Bourdieu’s understanding of field and habitus to explain why organizations are isomorphic and reluctant to change (e.g. DiMaggio and Powell, 1983; Mutch, 2003; Powell and DiMaggio, 1991).

Mukerji (2014) proposes that the logics of practice in the habitus of Bourdieu are comparable to Michael Polanyi’s understanding of tacit knowledge, suggesting that Polanyi’s descriptions of

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the distinctiveness of tacit knowledge can provide us with a new understanding of the concept of habitus. According to Polanyi (1958/1962 and 1966/2009), formal knowledge describes what is in the world and consists of representations that are judged by their accuracy. In contrast, tacit knowledge addresses the question of how to interact with things in the world and concerns sequences, practices and transformation—not stabilized truths but changing logics about what can be done next (Polanyi, 1966/2009). Polanyi thus sees tacit knowledge as a creative rather than a conservative force in science. Mukerji writes:

Scientific researchers doing experiments routinely encounter natural forces and properties that they cannot name, much less theorize precisely. In the face of this, they develop informal conceptions of the patterns in experimental results and use them as guides for designing their next experiments. Over time, they build up an inarticulate understanding of the natural properties or forces that they study. If they can, Polanyi argues, researchers try to articulate these patterns to make them formal knowledge. Thus, in Polanyi’s model, tacit knowledge is an engine of creativity in science that works through practices, but can change formal ideas.

(Mukerji, 2014, p. 350)

While—as I shall argue—there is abundant potential for change in Bourdieu’s theoretical framework, Mukerji’s suggested link to tacit knowledge is also relevant to this thesis, especially in light of the importance attributed to tacit knowledge within the field of design (Kimbell, 2012; Mareis, 2012).

Bourdieu himself rejects the alleged determinism of his theoretical framework. Habitus, he says (Bourdieu and Wacquant, 1992, p. 133), as being the product of history, is “an open system of dispositions that is constantly subjected to experiences, and therefore constantly affected by them in a way that either reinforces or modifies its structures. It is durable but not eternal!”

Transformation is thus possible through a disconnect between habitus and field. In Haute Couture and Haute Culture, Bourdieu wrote as follows:

The established figures have conservation strategies, aimed at deriving profit from progressively accumulated capital. The newcomers have subversion strategies, oriented towards accumulation of specific capital which presupposes a more or

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less radical reversal of the tables of values, a more or less revolutionary subversion of the principles of production and appreciation of the products and, by the same token, a devaluation of the capital of established figures. (Bourdieu, 1984/1995, p.

133)

“And those who struggle for dominance,” Bourdieu went on to say, “cause the field to be

transformed, perpetually restructured” (1984/1995, p. 135). Discussing Bourdieu’s work and the claims that his theoretical framework is deterministic, Garnham and Williams (1980) introduce a useful distinction between replication and reformation:

In our view it is necessary to distinguish within the process of reproduction

between ‘replication‘ and ‘reformation’. Reformation points us towards the spaces that are opened up in conjunctural situations in which the dominant class is

objectively weakened and which thus offers opportunities for real innovation in the social structure, for shifts in the structure of power in the field of class relations which, falling short of ‘revolution‘ in the classical sense, are nonetheless of real and substantial historical importance and are objectively ‘revolutionary’ within a longer historical rhythm. (Garnham and Williams 1980, pp. 222–223)

With regard to the alleged determinism of Bourdieu’s work, it has been suggested that the Anglo-Saxon world’s perception of Bourdieu’s framework as being largely deterministic is related to the sequence in which his work has been translated into English (Townley, 2014). As an increasing amount of Bourdieu’s work has become available in English, more nuanced adaptations and discussions have also come to the fore. The work of scholars such as Kerr and Robinson (2009), Gomez and Bouty (2011) and Eyal (2013), for example, suggests avenues of research to apply Bourdieu’s theory in situations of transition and change. In this thesis, Bourdieu’s theoretical framework has helped me bring to light and discuss processes of reproduction of current practices as well as processes of reformation and change towards practising sustainability.

Another objection to Bourdieu’s theoretical framework focuses on his concept of field. Drawing our attention to the institutional aspects of individual and group action, the field, according to Swartz (1997, p. 120), “represents Bourdieu’s version of institutional analysis”. Scholars such as

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Powell and DiMaggio (1991) drew extensively on Bourdieu’s concept of field, emphasizing both the relational and cultural aspects of membership, in their development of the branch of new institutionalism that has made its mark on organizational theory. Bourdieu, however, saw

‘field’ as superior to that of ‘institutions’. Firstly, with his concept of field Bourdieu wanted to highlight the conflictual character of social life (struggles) in contrast to the idea of institutions that suggests consensus. In institutional theory, field is generally characterized by stasis and the

‘taken for granted’ (Townley, 2014). Secondly, Bourdieu wanted to create a concept that could encompass social spaces in which practices are not firmly institutionalized and boundaries are not well established. The ‘problem’ with institutional theory’s adoption of the concept of the field is that it has largely forgotten to adopt the dynamic qualities of the concept that emphasize change and conflict. For Bourdieu, as highlighted by Townley (2014, p. 53): “fields are

inherently dynamic, contested, and open to change; not requiring the deus ex machina of the institutional entrepreneur to account for this.” Thus, although scholars such as DiMaggio (1988) and Hinings and Tolbert (2008) point to the neglect of agency in institutional analysis in

general, Bourdieu’s understanding of capital, interest and illusio, which are the concepts

providing the agency, politics and change that critics lament, have not been followed up on. This failure of Bourdieu’s critics to address capital, writes Townley (2014, p. 53): “is to ignore an important element of fields: each field has its own stake, strategic behavior is characterized by the competition for what is ‘at stake’, and the volume and composition of capital allows agents to gain advantage in a field. Capital, in other words, is central to the dynamics of fields.”

While a number of prominent sociologists have urged organizational theorists to adopt

Bourdieu’s approach to the study of organizational fields (Emirbayer and Johnson, 2008; Savage and Silva, 2013; Swartz, 2008), there are also many critical voices. With reference to Lahire (2001, pp. 34–48), Segre captures some of character of the critique:

Is it perhaps a field perhaps determined by the practices professionally carried out by some actors struggling with one another or with other actors? Or, in a more restricted way, by the practices carried out by prestigious actors, and aimed at bringing a symbolic capital to the field? […] Finally, the fields that Bourdieu considers are ‘disembodied,’ in the sense that attention is exclusively focused on more or less dominant positions, the struggles and strategies of actors who act in a particular field, divert the investigation from what characterizes the field in its

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practice and conception specifically, and in its independence from other fields.

Bourdieu’s theory does not permit to show what literature actually is, in the case of the literary field; what law or science actually are, if those are, instead, the

investigated fields. (Segre, 2014, pp. 33–34)

Friedland, being less concerned with the alleged cultural autonomy or economic reductionism of Bourdieu’s work, sees the problem in Bourdieu’s “theorization of the logic of practice as a generic contest for domination in a plurality of homologously organized fields” (Friedland, 2009, p. 888). Bourdieu conceptualizes the relationship between relatively autonomous fields in terms of “structural and functional homologies” (Bourdieu and Wacquant, 1992, pp. 105–106).

This means, for example, that consumers in subordinate social class positions have a tendency to choose products produced by producers in subordinate positions within the field of cultural production (Swartz, 1997, p. 130). According to Bourdieu, however, this is not the result of agents’ rational choices; rather, field analysis proposes that the relation of supply and demand (e.g. in sustainable fashion) is mediated by field structures and processes. As Swartz explains:

Producers struggle within the field of cultural production and their cultural products reflect more their respective positions of dominance or subordination in that struggle than they do the demands of consumers. Consumers, in their turn, select from these cultural products according to their own positions of dominance or subordination within the struggle for distinction among the social classes.

(Swartz, 1997, p. 131)

Power in this way becomes in Bourdieu’s theory both the primary interest of practice and the motor of field dynamics. Bourdieu, argues Friedland (2009, p. 888): “aligns all practices through the logic of domination, which allows him to homologize group relations in every fields. This homologization depends on a homogenization of fields, the sociological effacement of their cultural specificity.” In this sense, ‘difference’ is what makes up the content of Bourdieu’s dominant cultural forms, rather than something immanent in them. For Friedland (2009, p. 892):

“Both in his studies of cultural consumption and production, Bourdieu makes the politics of culture into a struggle for an empty cell: the transhistorical space of domination.” Friedland argues, in contrast, that institutional fields are:

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structures of symbolically constituted, iterated powers whose exercise through interlocked congeries of practices—voting and legislation, buying and selling, officiating and participating in religious rites, marrying, cohabitation and love-making, the fighting of wars and signing of treaties, controlled experiments and observation—carried out by collectively recognized subjects—citizens, owners, congregants, families, officials, scientists—which presume and per formatively produce values—democracy, property, divinity, love, sovereignty and knowledge.

(Friedland, 2009, p. 907)

In opposition to Bourdieu, Friedland argues that these “institutional substances” constitute the central objects of an institutional field and the principle of its unity. Criticising what he sees as Bourdieu’s primary focus on structures of power whose purposes are analytically external to their constitution, Friedland encourages analysis to advance a step further, stating that:

“Institutions have a logic because practices and substances are internally co-constitutive. […]

Substances are known through their powers, but are not reducible to them.” (2009, p. 908)

Acknowledging the methodological importance of the idea of structural homology in Bourdieu’s field analysis, Swartz (1997) also raises a number of questions concerning the conceptual power of this particular aspect of Bourdieu’s work. He notes, for example, that there is a high

probability that many different groups occupy homologous field positions without necessarily forming alliances. Thus, Swartz notes (1997, p. 136): “What are the processes as well as resources that help us understand why some groups but not others form strategic linkages?

Bourdieu’s notion of structural homology unfortunately stops short of shedding light on this important question.”