Howard Richards
Professor, Earlham College, Peace and Global Justice Studies

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A Logical Plan for Peace

"Let us not tire of preaching love; it is the force that will overcome the world. Let us not tire of preaching love; though we see that waves of violence succeed in drowning its fire. Love must win out; it is the only thing that can." --Oscar Romero, 25 September 1977 *

Table of Contents

Capital Flight
The Race to the Bottom
The Growth Imperative
The Holocaust
Transforming Rules, Relationships and Practices
Notes and References


There is a logical plan for peace tucked away in the next-to-last chapter of Heikki Patomaki's excellent new book, After International Relations: critical realism and the (re)construction of world politics. (1) Most of the book is devoted to technical issues in the methodology of social science research. I start my commentary on Patomaki's book at the next-to-last chapter because since violence threatens everybody, peace is a topic that interests everybody. The book as a whole asks the question how social science can best contribute to the building of peace. It answers the question it asks by advocating research methods grounded in a philosophy called critical realism

The next-to-last chapter builds on the peace research done by Karl Deutsch and his colleagues in the 1950s. Their method was very logical. To study peace, they identified places where peace existed. To study how to build peace, they identified times when peace did not exist in those same places, and then examined the historical transition from violence to peace. It should be possible to derive a logical plan for peace from the findings of such research. The plan would prescribe nurturing and strengthening the causes which produced peace in historical cases where a transition from violence to peace has been achieved.

Deutsch and his colleagues in the 1950s identified a number of cases to study, all of which were in the North Atlantic region, including peace between the USA and the former British Dominion of Canada, peace between Sweden and Norway, and others. Although their initial focus was on wars between nation-states, their findings have wider applications. I believe, and I believe that Patomaki believes, that some of the ideas they advance, such as the idea that peace results from integration, suggest ways to diminish violence at any level.

Deutsch et al published their results in a book they named Political Community and the North Atlantic Area. In it the formation of "political community" refers both to the amalgamation of formerly independent political units under a common sovereign, and to the process of integration of independent states into what the authors call a "pluralist security community." In the latter, war between two nations becomes so unthinkable that neither side prepares for it, as in the previously mentioned relationships of Canada to the USA and Norway to Sweden. Much of Deutsch et al's study also applies to the prevention of civil war, not so much because they defined civil war as an object of study as because the conditions that favor peaceful amalgamation and integration between nations are largely the same as those that make civil war within nations unlikely.

The conclusions of Political Community and the North Atlantic Area are numerous, complex, and hedged by methodological caveats. They cast doubt on some theories and common sense notions about how peace might be achieved, while they tend to confirm others. The theory that peace can be achieved by maintaining a balance of power among likely combatants is not confirmed. The neo-Hobbesian theory that an alleged war of all against all can only be ended by granting a monopoly of the legitimate use of force to a single sovereign is not confirmed. The idea that people will unite when they are forced to unite by the threat of a common enemy proves to be only partly true, because the unions thus produced are temporary. Issues regarding armaments and military budgets, which are commonly called "peace" issues, and concerning which "peace movements" take stands, turn out to be of relatively minor importance in peace-building processes. However, the related "peace movement" idea that wars will cease when cultures cease to glorify war, and war comes to be seen as reprehensible, turns out to be significant. Creative negotiations by leaders, which today might be classified as skill in "conflict resolution" or "conflict transformation" also prove to be significant.

But the great weight of the evidence accumulated and analyzed by Deutsch et al. serves to support the principal conclusion for which Patomaki cites their text in After International Relations: a security community (i.e. peace) is established when it is generally expected that institutions which provide means for peaceful change will function reliably and effectively. This principal conclusion is consistent with that reached more than a decade earlier by Quincy Wright, who in his massive study of the history of war found that the principal "cause" of war (if indeed "cause" is the right word here) is the difficulty of organizing the institutions of peace. (2)

It would not be correct to say that Patomaki rests his case solely on Deutsch et al.s evidence. The proposition that providing reliable institutions for effecting peaceful change is the single most important key to establishing a security community is no doubt one Patomaki was inclined to believe anyway, on several grounds. He found corroboration in Political Community and the North Atlantic Area.

The meaning of institutionalizing peaceful change is illustrated by the chapters in which Deutsch et al. assess the prospects for the North Atlantic area becoming an even stronger multi-national security community than it already was in the 1950s. Two decisive factors are: compatibility of major values, and what the authors call in several contexts "responsiveness."

In the North Atlantic area the core values of a largely common way of life are those of democracy and constitutional government under the rule of law. The authors cite as an example the experience of U.S. military personnel stationed in Western Europe who were tried for offenses committed there in European courts. The commitment to the rule of law was so similar in the USA and in Western Europe that there was not one single case where the USA objected that its citizens were not given a fair trial. Deutsch et al. also point out that the USA was (in the 1950s) committed to a modified free enterprise economy, while the United Kingdom and other European nations were inclining toward democratic forms of socialism. The compatibility of values at the level of democracy and rule of law favored peace among the North Atlantic nations, even when their electorates supported different philosophies regarding the proper role of the government in the economy.

Since democratic constitutionalism provided the core compatible values in the North Atlantic case, and since that was the only case then studied, the book does not answer the question whether peace is built by sharing any core values, or some core values but not others, or, specifically, by sharing the values of democracy and the rule of law.

A second major factor often mentioned by Deutsch et al. is what they call "responsiveness." Deutsch was influenced by the cybernetic theories of society in vogue at the time. (3) He tended to see government as a feedback loop, which processed messages in which ever-changing groups expressed their ever-changing demands, and then adjusted the system to better satisfy their demands. Where the outcome was peaceful amalgamation or integration, it was usually in large part because the system responded by providing for citizens what they wanted. Usually they wanted more rights and liberties, more equality, and more prosperity. International peace and social peace tended to overlap and to be enhanced by government action that was "mutually responsive" to the needs of other countries (as in the Marshall Plan) and "responsive" to its own citizens. In the multi-national security community of the North Atlantic there was, "...acceptance by the government of each country of substantial responsibility for high and stable levels of employment, for rising standards of living, and for security for most individuals against one or more hazards like old age, workmen's accidents, illness, unemployment, high rents and cost of housing, and excessive fluctuations in the prices of agricultural products. In the United States these trends have been associated with such legislation as the Social Security Act of 1935, and its subsequent extensions; the Employment Act of 1946; the various items of housing legislation; and the succession of farm price support bills. Broadly similar legislation, with similar social effects, has been enacted in all countries belonging to the first and second of our income groups in the North Atlantic area. The particular items covered have varied, of course from country to country, and so has the manner in which each particular problem was dealt with in each case. In their cumulative effect, however, these changes have been astonishingly similar --not the less so for being accepted in their essentials by conservative as well as liberal and labor parties in most of the countries concerned." (4)

The authors quote from an earlier study by P.E. Corbett: "The Welfare of the individual in society should be recognized as an end in itself and the purpose of all organization, national or international. But the direct effort to promote it may also prove to be the speediest road to general and enduring peace." (5)

Although Political Community and the North Atlantic Area is now nearly half a century old, Patomaki's references to it in After International Relations, published in December of 2001, are appropriate to the times we now live in. Today, when nine out of ten wars are civil wars (6), and when globalization is eroding national sovereignty, it is more evident than ever that Deutsch et al. were right in rejecting the so-called "realist" position (not to be confused with Patomaki's critical realism) that war could be understood as the product of anarchy among sovereign states. Today we need look no farther than Palestine to illustrate their finding that the failure of legitimate processes that call for peaceful change is likely to lead to violence.

Patomaki uses the following diagram, which I have simplified, to illustrate his account of how peaceful change and therefore peace, can be facilitated by the work of social scientists:

(Diagram to follow)

Starting in the lower left corner of the diagram, "emancipatory research" is the kind of research that Patomaki advocates. It contributes to "the self-transformative capacity of contexts." The latter refers to the ability of a society to change. The "self-transformative capacity of contexts," in turn, leads to "dependable expectations of peaceful change." Dependable expectations of peaceful change, in turn, lead to a "security community," i.e. to peace.

Perhaps the most important, and controversial, point underlying Patomaki's diagram is that social science research can contribute to peaceful change by systematically criticizing currently held beliefs. That is what science does. (7) Beliefs and the institutions which rest upon them change, in part, because science demonstrates that the beliefs are not true. Social contexts grow in "self-transformative capacity" as they grow in the ability to reconsider and revise currently held beliefs, and as they better understand the causes of unintended consequences of actions based on them. Patomaki advocates a scientific form of nonviolence, of satyagraha, the force of truth. Thus his logical plan for peace lands us smack dab in the middle of contemporary controversies concerning technical questions in the methodology of social science research.

My discussion of the technical questions will have three stages. First, the focus will be on claims to know what is true. The questions about truth will turn out to be mainly questions about "structures." "Structures" will then prove to be best understood in social science as "rules, relationships, and practices."


The work of authors narrowly and broadly associated with critical realism, such as Roy Bhaskar, Rom Harre, Elizabeth Anscombe, Mario Bunge, Karin Knorr Cetina (in important respects), Patomaki himself, and others, can be thought of as a rescue operation designed to rescue words like "truth," "reality," and "cause and effect." Truth etc. needs to be rescued from its current pariah status resulting from its association with such intrinsically pejorative concepts as "totalizing," "logocentrism," "metaphysics of presence," "normalizing," "essentialism," "compulsory heterosexuality," and "onto-theology," not to mention older notions used pejoratively to attack truth such as "meaningless metaphysics," "closed society," "ideology," "inquisition," and "dogma."

For Patomaki's scientific nonviolence to work, peacemakers must be able to speak of the truth, or a truth, or a rational truth claim, or something of the sort, and to contrast it with a belief, which may be widely believed, which may even be widely taken for granted, but which is, nevertheless, not true. Speaking more generally, a number of intellectuals have considered it to be important to "reclaim reality," in Roy Bhaskar's phrase, as a necessary step in the process of emancipating humanity from dysfunctional and oppressive institutions. (8)

I will discuss one of the reasons why in the twentieth century scholars of the democratic left have seen a political need to make a case against certain prominent forms of non-realism, namely: against the reigning empiricism in the social sciences, and against one important view of what it means to understand a text in the humanities. This brief discussion will set the stage for introducing Patomaki's attempt to stake out critical realist principles that simultaneously (a) rescue truth from its pariah status and (b) orient social science toward the critique of social structures.

Let us suppose, first, with Patomaki, that a main contribution of social science to peace is to increase the effectiveness of the institutions that organize peaceful change. Let us suppose, second, with Patomaki, that the way research makes institutions more effective is by producing truth, or something like truth, so that the rules and practices that constitute the institutions become based on beliefs which are more accurate reflections of reality.

This second supposition may require more willing suspension of disbelief than a conscientious lover of wisdom would be willing to grant, since, after all, social reality is ever-changing, infinitely varied, infinitely complex. And yet --and yet-- the successes of the natural sciences demonstrate that human minds are not necessarily impotent in the face of reality. When it comes to building a mousetrap that really catches mice, or a guided missile that really pinpoints and destroys its target, to cite just two examples, human minds seem to be able to produce technologies that work because the principles they apply are true. Consequently, the second supposition, which amounts to saying that there could be a science of society, can be entertained --and indeed has been entertained in the past two centuries, as social sciences have proliferated, as millions of people have graduated from universities with social science degrees, as billions of dollars have been spent on social science research. The idea that humans might learn peace by learning truth has, therefore, at least some plausibility.

Let us make a third supposition, making explicit a point Patomaki presupposes. In a wise traditional formulation, human beings are a union of soul and body perpetually attracted both by the inspirations of love and by the temptations of self-interest. Consequently, social scientists, like all human beings are subject to not one but two Golden Rules. The second Golden Rule is: those who have the gold make the rules. On this third supposition, it is likely that some sort of self-interest would become entrenched in methodological rules followed by mainstream social science research, since self-interest is entrenched everywhere else. One way this could happen would be for there to be a standard methodology which "explains" and "predicts" social phenomena without calling into question the basic structures of society through which those who have the gold acquire the gold. It would look like science, but it would not do what science does. It would not systematically criticize existing beliefs in the name of truth. Given that human nature is not entirely self-interested, it would not be surprising to find a perpetual tug of war going on within social science faculties (and within individual minds and hearts) between technical research procedures that do not criticize social structures but are conducive to successful fund-raising, and intellectual consciences which recognize that war, poverty, and the destruction of the biosphere will not end without calling into question the basic structures of society through which those who have the gold acquire the gold.

That what one would suspect from a basic knowledge of human nature in fact happens in social science can be illustrated by a few examples.

In Jeffrey Sachs' and Felipe Larrain's textbook Macroeconomics in the Global Economy the student is told in the introduction that she will learn the "the factors that cause high or low unemployment." (9) But in all the book there is not one word about the historical evolution of the moral and legal structures that make unemployment a chronic problem in all modern societies. Instead the students find themselves up to their ears in census data, in national accounts data, in national and international labor statistics, prices, debts, and quantities of money. The given information, on the basis of which the student learns to make calculations, is pre-interpreted in categories defined by existing institutions. The student learns the causes of unemployment only in the sense that she learns to explain and predict it by writing equations in which the substitution of constants for the independent variables yields a value for the dependent variable.

Other examples are provided by Patomaki's discussion of the research tradition associated with J. David Singer's Correlates of War Project, of which the most recent fruit is Triangulating Peace by Bruce Russett and John Oneal. Triangulating Peace comments informally on a number of theories of peace, mainly Realpolitik and liberal-Kantian theories. But the serious side of the book lies not in its comments on theories, but in its scientific testing of theories. The authors operationally define variables that Realpolitik and liberal-Kantian theories hypothesize to be conducive to peace. They define peace (and war). They draw on datasets which count all known instances of peace and war from 1885 to 1992. They call their method "epidemiological," by analogy to probabilistic research in medicine, which tests the effects of drugs, or treatments, or nutrients, by correlating the independent variable tested with dependent measures of health, calculating the probability, given X, that Y will also be found.

Studies like Triangulating Peace feature exercises in retrodiction. Whatever the theory explaining peace may be, the empirical analyses that test the theory are statistical calculations. That is to say, given that one knows, i.e. one can assign a number to, a set of events in the past, equations can be derived and statistical tests can be run, which connect those events to whether there was then war or peace. Peace is "predicted," but it is not really predicted, because it already happened. It is explained in the sense that it could have been predicted based on what went before it. The good news is that Russett and Oneal's results show that the liberal-Kantian variables (democracy, trade, international organization) predict peace, to a level of statistical confidence as great as that found when using Realpolitik variables to predict peace. As in Sachs and Larrain, explanation and prediction are achieved by analyzing datasets. The authors feel that they can confidently predict future events by projecting such analyses into the future: "Peace will prevail throughout a region when all the states there are democratic." (10)

From Patomaki's point of view, Russett and Oneal's confident prediction of future events is too confident. Critical realism holds that in open systems predictions are, strictly speaking, impossible Ėalthough this does not mean that nothing can be anticipated. Patomaki points out that --even judged in terms of their own methodological standards-- the statistical demonstrations of the democratic peace theory require massaging of the data. They require, for example, defining "war" in a way that does not count United States covert operations to overthrow democratically elected regimes as wars. More importantly, Patomaki holds that such studies should not be judged by their own methodological standards, but by the higher standards of a critical realist methodology.

In the philosophy of social science methodologies for social science research such as those used by Sachs, Larrain, Singer, Russett, Oneal, and others are justified in books like Ernest Nagel's The Structure of Science (11) and Karl Popper's The Poverty of Historicism. (12) They argue for the unity of science, claiming that there is no important methodological difference between natural science and social science. There is, to be sure, something called "understanding," (Verstehen in German), which can be contrasted with "explanation" (Erklaren in German). "Understanding" as a research method requires, as the etymology of its German equivalent implies, trying to stand in other peoples' shoes to see how the world looks to them. From understanding one learns the meanings that acts, signs, symbols, and relationships have for the actors and for the people who use the signs and symbols, and are in the relationships. But, say Nagel, Popper, and other stalwarts of orthodoxy, Verstehen is not science. It may be a source of hypotheses for scientists to test, but it is not science. If you want to specialize in Verstehen for its own sake, then you must walk across the campus to the Humanities Building, where you will learn to interpret texts. A study of human action that would have made structures visible by examining their construction in practice and in discourse, is foreclosed by treating everything that is not "science" as hermeneutics, everything that is not Erklaren as Verstehen.

The explanation/understanding dichotomy (Erklaren/Verstehen in German) leaves the democratic left out in the cold. Mainstream explanation proceeds with no reference to any critique of the basic moral and legal structures of society. Its mainstream other, the humanistic study of the meanings found in life and in texts, is an art form, which may be a fertile source of hypotheses to test, but which is never, in itself, dynamic. Meaning never has "impact;" it is never a "variable," a "force," or a "factor."

The first assumption, to repeat and summarize this brief discussion of the epistemological plight of scholars of the democratic left, is that social science builds peace through the constructive criticism of institutions. The second assumption is that some sort of legitimate claim to scientific truth or accuracy is part and parcel of constructive criticism. The third assumption is that, human nature being what it is, powerful claims to monopolize scientific truth and accuracy have been asserted on behalf of social science research methodologies which systematically refrain from examining the basic moral and legal structures of society.

One more assumption. Assume that you are Jurgen Habermas, Paul Ricoeur, Anthony Giddens, Herbert Marcuse, Heikki Patomaki, or some other conscientious left-leaning scholar. You are convinced that the institutionalization of peaceful change will not become a worldwide achievement until the basic structures of the modern world-system are substantially modified. From your point of view, on this assumption, Sachs, Larrain, Singer, Russett, Oneal, Nagel, Popper, and others who write equations or do statistical tests relating some socially constructed entities to others, are skating over the surface of reality, never coming to grips with the processes by which socially constructed entities get constructed. The structures that are skated over are just the ones that need to be reconstructed to achieve peace and justice. It would then be politically important to you to take stands on technical issues in the methodology of social science research which reject the Erklaren/Verstehen dichotomy. You might write Knowledge and Human Interests, (13) or Freud and Philosophy (14), or New Rules of Sociological Method (15), or One-Dimensional Man (16) partly because you are looking for a way to assign causal powers to meanings. This consideration helps to explain why Patomaki in After International Relations repeats so often and so emphatically that meanings are causes. Seeing meanings as causes brings structures into view.

Establishing that meanings are causes is, however, more the background than the foreground of After International Relations. A more central concern of the book is to come to terms with contemporary anti-realists who are convinced that claims by social scientists to know the truth, or even a truth, are specious in theory and likely to lead to oppression in practice. To that end Patomaki outlines three principles of critical realism:

1. Ontological realism. There are things that exist in the natural world and in society, which are as they are, and which scientific truth claims are about.

2. Epistemological relativism. Every claim to know the truth is fallible and subject to correction. It is relative to the prejudices, chance circumstances, theoretical framework, and position in society of the person or group making the claim.

3. Judgmental rationalism. Some truth claims are more rational than others, and it is often possible to tell with reasonable accuracy which ones they are.

The second of these principles attempts to give contemporary anti-realism its due, while the third seeks to give it no more than its due.

The first principle, no doubt the most fundamental of the three, represents a break with empiricism, insofar as empiricism takes the discovery of scientific laws to be a matter of finding constant conjunctions among phenomena. For critical realists, it is not the surface appearance, the phenomenon, but the underlying structure, that is the object of study which science is about. The significance of the title After International Relations is that mainstream IR as an academic discipline has been misguided not just because it took relations among nation-states as its object of study, but also because it has adopted David Hume's empiricism --which arose historically at about the same time as the nation-state-- as the philosophy behind its prevailing research methods. The datasets of Singer, Russett, and Oneal are an updated, mathematically and statistically sophisticated, version of Hume's phenomena. (More precisely: Hume's "impressions," Kant's "intuitions")


How, then are people to talk about those really existing objects of scientific inquiry, which are not simple apparent phenomena, which one can see, name, rank order, scale, correlate, and test for significance ? Patomaki introduces an elaborate technical vocabulary, which is designed to be the terminology of the science of world politics, which is to supersede IR. Most of the vocabulary is drawn from the realist philosophies of science of Roy Bhaskar and Rom Harre; some is adapted from ideas of Anthony Giddens and other social scientists. Among the key, interrelated, terms in Patomakiís technical vocabulary some of the most central are: causality, causal complex, relations, and structure. I will focus my discussion on this last: "structure." Roy Bhaskar writes, "...the objects of scientific investigation are structures, not events; and ... such structures exist and act independently of the conditions of their identification, and in particular in open and closed systems alike. These structures are non-empirical but empirically identifiable, transfactually efficacious but only contingently manifest in particular outcomes and they form the real ground for causal laws." (17)

The question about "truth" thus becomes a question about "structure," if one chooses "structure" as the preferred point of entry into Patomakiís complex of interrelated critical realist terms, and as the preferred bridge leading to understanding how critical realism relates to other major approaches to social science. How is this highly controversial word to be used in the social sciences ? What bearing does "structure" have on peacemaking (sometimes called peacebuilding) where peacemaking is conceived as achieving effective and reliable means for dealing with conflict and social change nonviolently ?

Before discussing Patomaki's views concerning how to think about structure, I will muddle on for a number of pages continuing to use the word "structure" as if everyone knew what it meant. I postpone the question about what "structure" means in order to respond to a more important question: Why quibble ? (Or, Why engage in arguments that may seem like quibbling ?) If several theories converge in concluding that democracy leads to peace as Russett and Oneal point out, does it really matter whether this conclusion is reached using their methodology or using Patomaki's ? Russett and Oneal even agree with Patomaki and Bhaskar that peace is the product of a laborious process of institution-building; Russell and Oneal quote Quincy Wright: "Peace is artificial; war is natural." (18) They quote Deutsch et al: in a security community nations give up military violence and replace it with "dependable expectations of peaceful change." (19) Given that Sachs and Larrain never pretended to do the work of an Immanuel Wallerstein or a Karl Polanyi, is anything gained by calling attention to their disregard of the transformation through time of the normative structures whose present workings they study ? Given that critical realists and postmodernists alike hold that human institutions need to be invented because there are no natural institutions, does the realist claim that structures have causal powers make a difference ?

I think the questions just raised about quibbling have good answers. Patomaki does not go out of his way to quibble. Critical realism is not an exclusive philosophy. It does not ignore the findings of scientists who do not identify with it, or who do not employ the methods it recommends.

Further, critical realism, which began as a philosophy of natural science, is not an exotic proposal for the use of untried methods. It purports to be a superior account of the history and practice of science. Its aim is to give an account of why science succeeds. One of its main theses is that if there were no ontologically real structures with causal powers, then the success of science would be inexplicable. (20) But --unlike the philosophies loosely called "positivist" -- it does not advocate a nomological-deductive method for the social sciences in putative imitation of the natural sciences. Far from it.

I think it will be helpful to discuss some issue areas where differences in methodology have clear practical consequences. With respect to the issue of the relationship of peace to democracy Russett and Oneal's disagreements with Patomaki are to a considerable extent more academic than practical. Patomaki and Russett disagree about the merits and limitations of the statistical analysis of datasets. They disagree about how best to continue to improve research methods with the aim of finding methods that are more and more generally reliable. Concerning the desirability of encouraging democracy as a step toward peace, however, they are both able to propose concepts and methods for research that lead to similar, although not identical, policy recommendations. I will briefly discuss four other issue areas, concerning which the difference between research that treats structures as causes, and research that does not, is of great practical, as well as academic, significance. I wish to cast doubt, using these four examples, on the adequacy of certain Humean social science procedures, usually loosely called "empiricist" or "positivist." (21) I wish to claim that in these four areas research that examines the basic structure of the modern world system has much to offer, and that what it has to offer has important practical consequences.

It should be added that neither Russett and Oneal nor Patomaki want their research to be used to promote simple-minded attempts to further liberal democracy everywhere. Narrowly conceived democracy-promotion can be a way to inappropriately impose the norms of a neo- liberal capitalist economy; it can be a way to constitute the non-democratic other as enemy; it can be a way to fan the flames of ethnic conflict. However, granting that the authors under review are alike in resisting the drawing of simplistic conclusions from democratic peace theories, I would assert that in the light of the considerations discussed below Patomakiís critical realist approach lends itself better to giving persuasive reasons why such simplistic conclusions should be avoided.

Capital Flight

In the preface to the most recent edition of Managing World Economic Change Robert Isaak notes that capital flight is a danger every nation fears, and which every nation is constrained to take measures to prevent as best it can. (22) A subtext is that, given certain economic conditions that drive investors away, capital flight is as natural as windstorms and earthquakes. Capital flight is studied as a phenomenon, which happens under certain conditions, and does not happen under others. Social scientists do empirical research to determine under what conditions how much of it happens.

What actually happens (23) in capital flight is that people who own capital move it. For whatever reason. They generally move it out of a place where they fear they will lose it, or where earnings are low, and into a place where risk is lower and/or earnings are higher.

A hardcore empiricist methodology that skates over the surface of socially constructed realities can name capital flight, rank order it, scale it, correlate it with other phenomena, and test relationships among variables relevant to capital flight for significance. Other types of methodology, which may do more interpretation and less calculation, might be classified (using Anthony Giddens' concept of the "double hermeneutic") as ones that accept the pre-given meanings given to the phenomena of capital flight by non-social-scientists (such as "earnings" in the language of accountants, "ownership" as defined by the law and by ordinary language, "risk" as defined by insurers and by common sense). This class of methodologies then processes units of analysis defined by pre-given lay (i.e. non-social-scientist) meanings through operationally defined measurements, models, charts, graphs, metaphors, theories, hypotheses, and the like. (For example, a theory illustrated with a graph might show a relationship between a measure of "perceived risk" and a measure of "capital flight".)

What I want to suggest is that some of the appropriate occasions for saying a scientific discourse is about "structure" and that it is attributing causal powers to structures, are those where the lay meanings underlying capital flight are examined. One might first examine "people" who "own capital." Then: "move it." More specifically: the "freedom" to move what people "own" as they think fit "for whatever reason." Times when basic norms concerning property and free markets are rescued from the invisible background of social life and placed in the visible foreground are good times for saying the inquiry is "structural." A social science that thus examines structures as causes has more to say about capital flight than one which, following David Hume, thinks of causes (or what would be causes if there were causes at all) as constant conjunctions among phenomena.

The Race to the Bottom

In their book Globalization from Below, Jeremy Brecher, Tim Costello, and Brendan Smith define the race to the bottom as "a destructive competition in which workers, communities, and entire countries are forced to cut labor, social, and environmental costs to attract mobile capital." (24) Capital flight is capital leaving; the race to the bottom is sacrificing social objectives to persuade capital to come.

What actually happens in the race to the bottom is that governments (and others) compete with each other to attract investors. Often (but not always) they compete by lowering the costs of doing business: wages, taxes, environmental cleanup, etc. Investors (at least some of them) allow themselves to be attracted by agreeing to profitable deals, even when they may have some misgivings about the morality of the deals.

(Although I will just use the word "government" in what follows, I added parenthetically "and others" in the preceding paragraph because governments often do not have effective power. Sometimes a nation's competitive bids to attract investors are orchestrated less by governments than by military elites; by financial elites; by international organizations such as the IMF, World Bank, and aid consortia; or some combination of the three.)

(The reason why I parenthetically added "but not always" is that sometimes governments will compete to attract investment by raising certain costs of business. They might raise taxes to provide better police protection or schools, or take stronger measures to provide a clean environment. Governments may also do nothing to lower wages, but just sell investors on their country by pointing to the low wage levels they already have.)

Jeffrey Winters studied the government's efforts to attract investment to Indonesia from 1965 to 1995, using a method akin to the one John Stuart Mill in his Logic called "the method of concomitant variation." (25) (Indonesia is one of the countries where it is particularly hard to tell what combination of government, military, wealthy elites, and foreign advisors effectively makes policy.) The government (using here a one-word simplification as I said I would) quite consciously thought of itself as competing with other governments to attract investors. It was quite aware that Indonesia was vulnerable to competition from other third world countries whose wage levels were even lower than Indonesia's. It quite consciously used low wages as a selling point to sell Indonesia to foreign investors. It quite consciously kept wages low by persecuting unions, and by not enforcing the elaborate guarantees of labor rights provided in Indonesia's constitution and statutes. It had well thought out environmental and conservation objectives, which it often had to weigh against its need to attract investors. Taxes could be adjusted to favor investors, but on the whole taxes were not a big factor because the Indonesian government did not collect much in taxes anyway --its budgets were funded mainly by oil royalties and foreign aid.

What Winters was able to show was that Indonesian eagerness to attract investment went up or down (concomitantly varied) according to how mobile capital was, and according to how badly Indonesia needed money. Mobile capital, which was able to bring investments quickly in, or able to take investments quickly out, got the most favors. Investors whose assets were tied up in heavy fixed capital equipment, which was hard to move, got fewer favors. When oil revenues went up, Indonesia's need for foreign investment went down. Its willingness to accept foreign investment on onerous terms abated. Its negotiating stance stiffened. When oil revenues went down, barriers to foreign investment went down, while incentives designed to attract investors went up.

The competition among governments to attract investments can be studied as Winters studied it, as a quasi-natural process which displays certain constant conjunctions of phenomena. One might even speak metaphorically of "investment flows" and "wage levels" as if they were water flows and water levels, and one might metaphorically report that the former tends to go where the latter is low.

But one can also study the race to the bottom as an effect caused by structures. One can think of it as a game played within the normative framework provided by certain basic moral and legal structures of the modern world-system. One key basic structure is like those discussed above in connection with capital flight: people (including artificial persons such as corporations) are (with limited exceptions) free to do with their money and other property what they wish to do, for whatever reason.

Adding this banal structural observation immediately implies two corollaries with great practical and theoretical importance.

The first is that there is no reason to expect everyone who wants a job to have a job. People who do not have independent incomes or businesses or professions can normally be expected to want a job. But nobody is obligated to give them a job. If X decides to hire Y, X will. But X could have done otherwise. If X for whatever reason chooses to decline to hire Y, X will decline. Despite many volumes of economic theory to the contrary, there is no reason to expect full employment. There is no reason to think that lack of full employment needs to be explained by government interference with market forces or by any policy error or unusual circumstance. Somebody choosing to hire somebody sometimes happens. Sometimes it does not happen.

The second corollary is that there is no reason to expect investors to create enough jobs and to produce enough goods to make all the world prosperous. Investors invest when they want to. When they don't want to they don't. It is their money and they can do what they want with it.

These two consequences of a basic structural norm (which could also be articulated as a "structure set" in Giddens' terminology) suggest some additions to the analysis of the race to the bottom. The race to the bottom takes place in a world where it is to be expected that there will always be more workers than jobs. It takes place in a world where it can be expected that the governmental practice of providing incentives to attract investors will never bring about full employment at high wages worldwide; it will not lead to the utopia where all the world is "developed." There will always be more human needs than there are needs met through the agency of investors who put up capital to produce goods and services in the expectation of making profits from making sales.

If one asks the question how the race to the bottom can be turned around to become a march to the top, in which nations cooperate to achieve social and environmental objectives, it becomes clear that thinking of structures as causes makes a practical as well as a theoretical difference. However much empirical research like that of Winters contributes to understanding the problem, the additional insight providing by paying attention to structures is practically essential. Because structural change is needed to solve the problem.

The Growth Imperative

In his General Theory John Maynard Keynes wrote: "The psychology of the community is such that when aggregate real income is increased aggregate consumption is increased, but not by so much as income. Hence employers would make a loss if the whole of the increased employment were to be devoted to satisfying the increased demand for immediate consumption. Thus to justify any given amount of employment there must be an amount of current investment sufficient to absorb the excess of total output over what the community chooses to consume when employment is at the given level." (26)

Keynes calls this a "psychological" fact. It would be better to call it a "structural" fact. Calling it "psychological" makes it sound as if the need of the economy for growth (i.e. for an amount of current investment sufficient to absorb the excess of current output over current consumption) could by abolished by psychotherapy. It makes it sound as though there would be no need for growth if some attitude change would motivate people to spend every dollar they took in. Calling it "the psychology of the community" makes it sound as though there could be a different community with a different psychology, such that growth would not be needed to make up for the shortfall in consumption. Actually, any community with a similar social structure has the same problem: there is no reason to expect people to spend every dollar they receive; people can either spend or not spend; sometimes they do, and sometimes they do not.

Keynes' argument shows that the growth imperative is not just a matter of ill will. It is not just that greedy multinational corporations and greedy individuals have unbridled appetites to keep reinvesting profits in order to accumulate profits endlessly. Nor is it just a matter of good will. It is not just that the private sector and the public sector work together to promote continuous growth because their leaders love the poor and wish to enlarge the economic pie continuously so that there will always be bigger slices for the worst off. Growth is a matter of keeping the system going. It is an imperative built into the structure of the system. The alternative to growth is that, as Keynes points out, "employers would make a loss" and that means layoffs, bankruptcies, and a downward spiral. There is a structural growth imperative, which commands growth regardless of whether it stems from good intentions or bad intentions, and regardless of whether the consequences are good or bad.

Making a virtue of a necessity, "the path of steady economic growth" is often equated with the path to success. The concept of "growth" solves Keynes' problem because it plows back so much money into the economy as investments every year that overall there is no lack of aggregate demand. Sellers can sell their products. Since they can sell their products, they can pay their employees. Further, vital growing industries can sometimes --as in the heyday of the growth of the social democratic economies of Western Europe in the 1960s-- bring in profits large enough to make it possible to pay high wages. "Productivity growth" can be translated into increases in employee compensation. Growth also expands the tax base, which enables the government to expand public services.

Solving society's principal problems through unlimited and continuous economic growth extending into the indefinite future sounds too good to be true, and it is too good to be true. Making growth compatible with ecological concerns requires restricting it to green growth only, which is not easy to do. Maintaining islands of high wages in a world sea of low wages requires keeping growth going year after year, which requires the endless development of new products. It requires keeping technological leads, which is not easy. It requires enticing investors to keep investing, which is not easy either. To entice investors while raising wages is even harder. To keep ahead in technology and to simultaneously keep investment flowing enough to match aggregate demand with aggregate supply, to sop up unemployment with new jobs and keep the economy growing fast enough to reduce poverty, subject to the constraint that only green growth counts as true growth is, in practice, impossible.

The growth imperative has the effect of putting even the rich parts of the world, even those nations which have succeeded in growing economically, on a treadmill where they must run faster and faster just to stay in place. No amount of consumption is enough. No amount of ingenuity in inventing new products and new marketing strategies is enough. No amount of sacrifice of other values to whatever it takes to keep growth going is enough. As Keynes wrote: "For at least another hundred years we must pretend to ourselves and to everyone else that foul is fair and foul is fair, for foul is useful and fair is not. Avarice and usury and precaution must be our goals for a little longer still. For only they can lead us out of the tunnel of economic necessity into daylight." (27) But these lines from Keynes are misleading insofar as they promise light at the end of the tunnel --because, by Keynes' own reasoning, there is no reason to expect the growth imperative to ever end, as long as the structures which give rise to it are in place.

Every caring and aware human being must ask the questions: How did we get on this growth treadmill ? And, "How can we get off it?" These are questions concerning which research that examines the basic structure of the modern world system has much to offer.

The Holocaust

I want to use the holocaust to sort out, at least in part, what might appear to be an ambiguity in Patomaki's argument. On the one hand, he finds support for his own views in the empirical evidence supplied by Deutsch et al's careful historical case studies. They support the conclusion that peace can be established by creating reliable and effective institutions for achieving peaceful change in the directions most people want: more rights and liberties, more equality, more prosperity. On the other hand, Patomaki finds much to criticize in the methodologies which use the statistical analysis of datasets to confirm theories (most notably Kant's) which lead the authors to predict that, "Peace will prevail throughout a region when all the states there are democratic." (28) Patomaki might appear to be saying yes to Deutsch and no to Singer when they use similar methods to arrive at similar conclusions. A short discussion of how one might try to understand the holocaust may help to clarify this ambiguity, and also to provide another example of why attention to basic structures has both methodological and practical importance.

My mother's brother, Jack Darwin McCune, a second lieutenant in the United States Army, was one of many who gave their lives to prevent tragedies like the holocaust from happening again. But tragedies like the holocaust have happened again: in Indonesia, in Argentina's Dirty War, in Cambodia, in Biafra, in Chile, in Rwanda, and in other places. Many scholars have sought to further through peace research the cause Uncle Jack sought to further by volunteering to fight Hitler. They have sought to learn how to prevent holocaust-like tragedies by understanding their causes.

A Humean scholar who seeks to discover the causes of events like the holocaust is faced with the initial difficulty of deciding what to count as "like the holocaust." Using a Humean methodology, one would have to identify a class of phenomena, "holocausts," and then seek to determine what other classes of phenomena are constantly conjoined with it --or frequently conjoined with it at a high level of statistical significance. The choice of what to count as a tragedy like the holocaust would already reveal the scholar's ethical orientation and telegraph the sorts of policy recommendations likely to emerge from the research. If the choice is to focus on anti-semitism, then the class of similar phenomena to be studied will include pogroms in Russia, Poland, and other places. If the choice is to focus on the systematic killing of members of an ethnic group, then holocaust-like events will be defined as genocides. If the choice is to focus on the systematic killing of any group of people, who are considered to be unworthy of life and deserving of death by other people who have the power, as well as the will, to destroy them, then Indonesia in 1965 and all of the tragedies mentioned above would count. If the choice is to focus on rage out of control, or on the intelligent and systematic implementation of cruelty, or on the ideological construction of the other as evil, then still different datasets will be defined.

On the other hand, one can take the view that there was only one holocaust: It happened in Germany and in German-occupied areas in the early 1940s. Its victims were Jews, Communists, socialists, labor leaders, gypsies, homosexuals, and some others condemned to die for miscellaneous reasons. On this last view, one might give up trying to understand the holocaust with the methods of social science, understood as methods that measure the impacts of variables on variables. "Holocaust-like event" would not be a variable. There was only one. There would be no class of such events to count, rank, or scale, in order to give a variable a numerical value. One might then revert to trying to understand the holocaust with the methods of history, conceived as methods for studying unique events.

Unless one studies the holocaust as a unique phenomenon, defining the class of holocaust-like-phenomena excludes information. Any member of the class of such tragedies will have characteristics other than and different from other tragedies lumped together with it in the same class. Further, there is no reason to suppose that the boundaries marked by assigning a name to a class of events correspond to any fault lines along which causal powers move. Assigning a name to a class of phenomena, thus operationally defining a variable, provides no guarantee whatever that one has grasped forces at work in reality. As Knorr Cetina reminds us: "a stable name is not an expression and indicator of stable thinghood." (29)

Whatever does not count for the purpose of operationally defining the class to be studied will not be counted at all, insofar as the class, and not its individual members, then becomes the object of study. The class, so defined as an object of study, may and may not have some real relationship to causal powers.

Such considerations lead to a reason why Patomaki can repose more confidence in Deutsch's studies than in those conceived in the Singer "Correlates of War" tradition. Patomaki emphasizes that classes are never causes. To calculate "the impact of X on Y" where X and Y are variables (classes) is never to give a causal explanation. Causes must be sought among things, not among the names of the classes used to put things in categories. Further, the very process that puts a number of historical phenomena into the same category in order to define a variable is a process that loses information about things. Deutsch et al with their extensive case studies of particular transitions from armed mutual suspicion to peaceful security community, with their complex and qualified conclusions, with their methodological caution, and with their use of only very elementary mathematics, lose comparatively little information. They are comparatively less likely to surreptitiously treat classes as causes, or to treat measurements of quantitative relationships among classes as tests of causal hypotheses.

Of course, Patomaki goes beyond Deutsch in proposing a critical realist methodology for peace studies. Patomaki recommends an approach that is explicitly not Humean. But, on the other hand, Patomaki's critical realist approach is not restricted by the doctrine that since world political events are unique no causes producing them can be identified.

This does not mean, however; that in place of the positivist notion, according to which once the values of the independent variables are known the value of the dependent variable can be predicted; and that in place of the notion found in some versions of Marxism, according to which the laws of the accumulation of capital ultimately decree one inevitable result; that there is now a third, realist, notion which authorizes social scientists to predict the future. No. Meanings are causes. They are causes because they explain human action. But it is characteristic of human action that the actor could have done otherwise. Critical realism and idealism merge in the human actors who are able to transform the meaningful contexts of their actions. It is realistic to say that the ecological niche of the human species is to be the cultural animal, and that cultural animals create social structures. As Roy Bhaskar writes, "If there are social explanations for social phenomena (i.e. if a social science of social forms is to be possible), then what is designated in such explanations, the social mechanisms and structures generating social phenomena, must be social products themselves; and so, like any other social object, they must be given to and reproduced in human agency.... society is itself a social product." (30) Bhaskar goes on: "...society is at once the ever present condition and the continually reproduced outcome of human agency: this is the duality of structure." (31) Although it may well be the case, as neo-realists maintain, that in the past it has not been easy to change the rules and principles of global order except by military means, there is nothing in the nature of things that makes this necessarily the case. Peaceful change is in principle possible.

The question how to prevent the recurrence of holocaust-like events becomes, for critical realism, less a question of measuring causal factors that are associated with violence, and more a question of learning how to produce positive structural change, which, in turn, facilitates the creation of cultures of peace where ethnic hostility is in remission. In Patomaki's somewhat esoteric terminology, the question is about the self-transformative capacities of contexts. It is less about the crimes of Adolf Hitler and more about how to move beyond the unreliability and ineffectiveness of the Weimar Republic. It is less about the immediate conditions that triggered the outbreak of war World War II and more about the failure of the Treaty of Versailles to establish a viable international peace after World War I. It is less about the crimes of General Suharto and more about the weakness of the fledgling social democracy that was declared in Indonesia when the Dutch departed in 1955. Such is the thrust of Patomaki's last chapter, "Beyond Nordic Nostalgia." The last chapter is about how to reverse the decline of Scandinavian social democracy. Apart from the fact that it is natural for Patomaki, a Finn, to be especially concerned with his own part of the world, the concerns of the last chapter are a logical outcome of the argument of the book. All the world needs models of reliable and effective peaceful change, of the kind the Scandinavian social democracies used to provide.

Transforming Rules, Relationships and Practices

The word "structure" occurs frequently in talk about issues such as those discussed above; and, more generally, whenever it is a matter of unacceptable dilemmas (such as severe unemployment or environmental destruction), intractable social and economic contradictions, or persistent poverty; or whenever it is a matter of imagining a juggernaut that cannot be stopped by human wills. "The structure" is said to override human desire and human ethics, and to produce by itself irreversible changes in society with names like "globalization," "commodification," and "alienation." "The structure" stymies peaceful change.

Hopefully, better conceptual tools for thinking about "structure" would make peace and justice easier to achieve. It may be that some part of the problems said to be structural problems could be more easily solved with the aid of better ways to think about social structure.

Jean Piaget and Anthony Giddens are among those who have published extensive discussions of the use of the term "structure" in science, particularly in social science, during the 19th and 20th centuries. I refer the reader to them without trying to summarize them. (32) Giddens reviews how the term has been used by the French writers called "structuralists" and "post-structuralists," and by the American sociologists called "structural-functionalists." I will confine myself to commenting on how Patomaki defines the term in 2001. Patomaki's definition is the outcome of a constructive critique of the definitions of "structure" provided by Giddens and Bhaskar, which are themselves outcomes of the constructive critique of two centuries of deliberation concerning the best way to think about "structure."

One standard use of the term can be disregarded at the outset. Structural problems are sometimes taken to be about social inequality, which can be defined by classifying people into groups in ways which rely on a definition of "structure" as "composition." Social scientists speak, for example, of the "age structure" of a human population, meaning the age composition of the population, how many are under five years old, how many are over ninety years old, and how many fall in each age class defined. Similarly, one can speak of an "income structure" by saying that the top ten percent of the people get fifty percent of the income, while the bottom fifty percent get only ten percent of the income. Or one can speak of a world "wealth structure," such that the top 1% own more than the bottom 60% But classes are not causes. Important as it may be to know how much inequality there is, it is still more important to know why. For present purposes, it is better to reserve the designation "structural problems" for use in discovering the causes that produce inequality, and the traps that frustrate efforts to reduce inequality.

"Structure" defined as "composition" or "classification" can therefore be disregarded for present purposes. Such compositional structures are, Patomaki says, "causally, and therefore, ontologically, secondary to the conceptually much richer" (33) relational structures.

Patomaki begins a discussion of structure by considering the conclusions of Anthony Giddens' extensive work on the concept. They feature the ideas of "rules" and "resources." Giddens' careful and complex views suggest that to learn what the structure of a society is one should ask:
a. What are the rules?
b. Who controls the resources?

The idea that social structures are rules is a plausible one. The structural problems discussed above are all about property rights, one way or another. Property rights are rules. They are legal rules. Ludwig Wittgenstein's examination of rules in his Philosophical Investigations shows "rules" to be a theme worth tracing to shed light on aspects of social life often placed under such headings as norms, roles, games, discourse, practice, habitus, meaning and custom. (34) Wittgenstein's work serves to reassure those who share Michel Foucault's fear that to give rules a central role in social analysis would be to succumb to the naive illusion that society is governed by a ruler who makes the rules. Further, on a post-Wittgensteinian (and post-Heidegerrian) account of "rules," to choose to say that institutional structures are made of rules is not to deny that they are made of practices. On the contrary, it is to affirm that structures are made of practices.

Making rules a central theme of social science has the advantage that it builds a land bridge between social science and jurisprudence. It keeps jurisprudence from detaching itself as a separate intellectual continent. It facilitates talk of world peace through world law by framing it in the common vocabulary of rule-talk.

Giddens notes that an image that the word "structure" calls to mind is that of the girders of a building. The girders of a society are its guiding principles --which can be thought of as rules.

Giddens stops short of defining social structure entirely as a matter of rules because he finds that the idea of rules does not lend itself to an adequate account of the role of power in structuring human relationships. He adds "resources" to his definition because he believes that to understand a social structure one must know not just what the rules are, but also who has power to command resources. The trouble with this addition is that it can be called redundant because it is the rules of society which decide who has power to command resources. On the other hand, making allowance for power as a concept independent of rules seems intuitively plausible, partly because it sometimes seems that naked power overwhelms the rules. Mainstream political science generally favors making power, rather than rules, the central organizing theme for research.

Giddens' concession to the thesis that power trumps rules may seem to be correct from the viewpoint of mainstream political science. But although it may seem to be correct, and no doubt is partly correct, I will argue that it is less correct than it may seem to be. Political scientists often distinguish "authority" or "legitimacy" from "power." Social rules (norms), they say, prescribe who is supposed to rule and make the laws, but in a showdown (if I may be allowed to simplify theory for the sake of clarity) the legitimate government may be overpowered by military force, or economic force, or both. After the holders of real power seize control of the government in disregard of the norms of the rule of law, they can then make up rules to suit themselves. They can elaborate an ideology to provide legitimacy for their rules, and then they can compel all the children in all the schools to study it --as Suharto did with the pancasila ideology in Indonesia, as Stalin did with dialectical materialism in Russia, and as Salazar did with a corporatist version of Roman Catholic social doctrine in Portugal.

The thesis that power trumps rules withstands scrutiny better in the case of military power than in the case of economic power. Even in the case of military power, the thesis has its limitations. Its limitations are shown by the studies which show the dependence of even military power on consent and consensus, such as those by Hannah Arendt (35) and Gene Sharp (36). The limitations of the notion that people who have military power can afford to ignore social rules are also shown by cases where the possessors of moral legitimacy nonviolently defeated the possessors of military hardware. That happened several times in the history of the twentieth century.

It is economic power, however, that is the linchpin of the modern world-system. In the case of economic power, the thesis that power trumps rules appears in a different light when it is recognized that the economic power of property owners consists entirely of rights created and maintained by legal rules. Although, to be sure, the rule of law in a modern state implies that the police may use physical force, this does not mean that the rules have no customary, conventional, and moral force. It means, rather, that the physical power of the sovereign democratic state is committed to supporting the rules through law enforcement.

Economic power's dependence on the legal rules that define property rights was made clear by John R. Commons in Legal Foundations of Capitalism, which was first published in 1924. Commons wrote:

"...economic power is simply power to withhold from others what they need. In short, the change in the concept of property from physical things to the exchange-value of things is a change from the concept of holding things for one's own use to withholding things from others' use, protected, in either case by the physical power of the sovereign.

"The transition from the notion of holding things for one's own use and enjoyment to the notion of economic power over others evidently accompanies the historical evolution of property from slavery, feudalism, colonialism and a sparse population, to marketing, business, and the pressure of population on limited resources. Where production was isolated, or the owner held under his control all of the material things as well as the laborers necessary to the support of himself and dependents, the concept of exclusive holding for self was a workable definition of property. But when markets expanded, when laborers were emancipated, when people began to live by bargain and sale, when population increased and all resources became private property, then the power to withhold from others emerged gradually from that of exclusive holding for self as an economic attribute of property. The one is implied in the other, but it is not unfolded until new conditions draw it out. Just as the scales of the reptile become the feathers of the bird when the environment moves from land to air, so exclusive holding for self becomes withholding from others when the environment moves from production to marketing. The transition was hardly noticeable as long as the merchant, the master, the laborer, were combined under small units of ownership, but becomes distinct when all opportunities are occupied and business is conducted by corporations on a credit system which consolidates property under the control of absentee owners. Then the power of property per se, distinguished from the power residing in personal faculties or special grants of sovereignty comes into prominence. ... It becomes a power to extract things in exchange from other persons, in the absence of and wholly separate from individual human faculties --a power of property per se, silently operating but clearly seen and distinguishable from the manual, mental, and managerial abilities of its owners.

"This power of property in itself, the power to withhold, seen in these extreme cases, is but an enlargement of that power which exists in all property as the source of value-in-exchange and which may be distinguished as waiting-power, the power to hold back until the opposite party consents to the bargain. While as investors, they perform the indispensable service of waiting for compensation, yet as bargainers they determine through their power to wait what shall be the terms on which that compensation shall be made ....

"This enlargement of property from economy to economic power also separates, or at least distinguishes, management from ownership. For the activity of management is mainly that of proportioning the factors so as to get the largest net result from all; but the function of ownership is that of determining the conditions, terms, prices or values, at which the factors shall be obtained from others or the product sold to others." (37)

Commons' analysis shows that the command over resources commonly designated as economic power is inseparable from legal rules, and the privileges conferred by legal rules. In this important respect, rules constitute power. Although it is no doubt true (to some considerable extent) that those who have the gold make the rules, it is also true (to some considerable extent) that the rules determine who has the gold.

Thus, insofar as structural problems, such as capital flight and others discussed above, are problems about economic power, they are also problems about rules. They are problems about the rules that define what property owners can do in excluding others from their property, in bargaining, in moving their property from place to place, in using their property or leaving it unused, and (as Commons' emphasizes) in withholding permission for others to use their property until their terms are met.

For a different reason from mine, Patomaki also thinks that Giddens' account of social science does not get the complex interplay between rules and power quite right. Patomaki thinks Giddens' account of structure does not sufficiently incorporate Michael Foucault's widening of the concept of "power" to include "productive power." Patomaki writes, "...productive power is the idea that power also produces elements of the social world ... discursive knowledge, techniques, practical knowledge and skills, which constitute internal social relations. Many of the consequent effects may be unintentional." (38)

Patomaki's Foucauldian critique of Giddens blends into a broader critique which draws on the idea that power constitutes social relationships. Patomaki frames his critique initially in terms of compositions (classes) and relations: "Giddens's definition of structure as rules and resources does not sound plausible because the term `structure' is normally used in connection with compositions and/or relations." (39)

Disregarding compositions (i.e. classifications, such as "the income structure of the population") for the reason given above, the proper use of the word "structure" thus comes to hinge, for Patomaki, on relations. This brings us back to Karl Marx. Marx does not write about "structure," but he does write everywhere about "social relationships" (Verhaltnisse). Marx's constant theme is that political economy is a pseudo-science, a quack imitation of engineering, which palms off as natural what are in fact historically contingent social relationships. The most important of the relations is that between the owner of the means of production and the worker who has nothing to sell but labor-power.

But Giddens does not neglect relations in his account of structure. In particular, he does not neglect the relations that were central to Marx's critique of political economy. Instead he interprets them within a framework of rules and resources. Giddens begins a long discussion of "structures" defined as "rule-resource sets, involved in the institutional articulation of social systems" by considering the role of private property relationships in Marx's analysis of modern capitalism. Giddens writes:

"Consider what is involved in the following structural set: private property: money: capital: labour contract: profit.

The structural relations indicated here mark out one of the most fundamental transmutations involved in the emergence of capitalism and hence contribute in a significant way to the overall structuration of the system." (40) Thus Giddens' "rules and resources" account of social structure specifically accounts for the "relations" that Marx analyzes, using a terminology different from Marx's, and slightly different from Patomaki's.

Patomaki ends up with a relational definition of social structure which owes much to the Foucauldian idea of "positioned practice," i.e. a practice in which productive power defines the positions occupied by the actors. Here it is:

"Def. 6: The term social structure refers to internal and external relations of positioned practice; these relations are implicated and/or generated by the components of the relevant causal complex." (41)

Rules are not foreign to this definition. In each of the following three sentences, in which Patomaki explains what internal and external relations are, Patomaki writes of "rules" and/or of "constitutive rules." Like Giddens, Patomaki employs the idea of "rules" in explicating the meaning of "relations."

It is easy to lose sight of the forest while looking at the trees. The broad intellectual canopy provided by "rules" may and may not be broad enough to house everything that needs to be said to flesh out the concept of "social structure." It may and may not be broad enough to house what needs to be said about "power," "economic power," "productive power," "relations," "control of resources," "practices," and "positions." What remains clear, nevertheless, if I may vary the metaphors, when the dust settles and the fog lifts, is that we are no longer in Kansas, if Kansas is the flat Humean prairie of conjunctions among phenomena, where science is about finding out the degree of probability with which the value of an independent variable predicts the value of a dependent variable. We are, instead, living on a blue planet third out from the sun, on which humans create social structures. Institutions have been constructed; they can be deconstructed and reconstructed. The forms can be transformed. Given that there are structural obstacles to institutionalizing peaceful change --for examples, capital flight, the race to the bottom, the growth imperative, the ineffectiveness of social democracy (leading to exacerbated ethnic conflicts)-- it becomes easier to see, once one leaves Kansas, that there is nothing inevitable about them. Whatever else Giddens' and Patomaki's analyses of "social structure" may imply, they imply that structural obstacles are moveable.

Let's move some. In Patomaki's terminology, let us advance the emancipatory project of enhancing the self-transformative capacities of contexts. To this end, I will draw some practical suggestions for peacebuilding from the post-Wittgensteinian discussion of "rules" in H.L.A. Hart's The Concept of Law.

Hart defines law as "the union of primary and secondary rules." (42) The secondary rules are the rules that prescribe which primary rules are law. For example, it may be a secondary rule that a constitution approved by plebiscite is law. It may be a secondary rule that whatever a duly elected parliament enacts is law. Or that whatever a Supreme Court decides is the meaning of an ambiguous statute is law.

Hart's definition of law has implications for what it would take to achieve world peace through world law, some of which are spelled out in a chapter he devotes to international law. Hart's definition sheds light on the principle for peace stated by J.L. Brierly in The Law of Nations: "It is not the existence of a police force that makes a system of law strong and respected, but the strength of the law which makes it possible for a police force to be effectively organized." (43)

The idea of secondary rules as a framework for identifying and changing primary rules, also illuminates Patomaki's point that peace should not be conceived as the achievement of any kind of final order, but rather as the institutionalization of reliable processes for achieving constructive social change. The institutionalization of peaceful processes for change consists, to a large extent, of accepting secondary rules that determine which putative primary rules are legitimate and valid rules. The secondary rules define what counts as a legitimate change in the primary rules.

Hart's account of rules in general, i.e. of primary rules, sheds even more light on peacemaking. He finds that rules have three aspects: (a) regularity, (b) criticism, and (c) an internal aspect.

(a) Regularity. A rule is, first of all, an observable regularity in people's conduct. It is a pattern. There is a complex interplay between the regularities prescribed by cultural norms and the regularities observed in practice. Nonetheless, there are regularities. It follows that if structures are rules (at least to some considerable extent), then structures can be changed by changing regularities in people's conduct. Gandhi took such a view of change when he strove to change his own conduct, as a first step toward changing society. Gandhi did not use the word "structure," but his life stood for the proposition that structural change can begin by voluntarily starting to follow different rules in one's own daily practice. Gandhi wrote, for example:

"Now let us consider how equal distribution can be brought about through non-violence. The first step towards it is for him who has made this ideal part of his being to bring about the necessary changes in his personal life. He would reduce his wants to a minimum, bearing in mind the poverty of India. His earnings would be free of dishonesty. The desire for speculation would be renounced. His habitation would be in keeping with his new mode of life. There would be self-restraint exercised in every sphere of life. When he has done all that is possible in his own life, then only will he be in a position to preach this ideal among his associates and neighbors." (44)

What the present analysis clarifies is that when individuals and groups change the regular patterns of their behavior, they are not simply working outside the system, leaving the existing social structures intact. Structure are (at least to a considerable extent) regular patterns of behavior; to change the rules people live by is to change structure.

(b) Criticism. A rule is, secondly, following Hart again, an ideal of proper or correct conduct. Violating it authorizes other people to criticize the violator. There may be punishment; there may just be social disapproval. If violation never has any consequences, there is no rule; maybe there once was a rule, maybe it is an anachronism which from verbal habit is still called a "rule," but it is a dead letter now, a former rule no longer followed. Since structures are (at least to a considerable extent) patterns of behavior whose violation leads to being disapproved, it follows that the weight of a community's value judgments is a constituent part of social structure. Changing the moral, and eventually legal, judgments of the citizens of a society, is part and parcel of changing social structure. If, for example, the weight of public opinion is that war is not a proper instrument of national policy, what Betty Reardon calls the "war system" (45) to some extent ceases to exist. Normative criticism is a part of what rules are made of, and rules are what structures are made of. Deutsch et al provide practical illustrations of this point when they point out that the anti-war sentiments of the Swedish people facilitated a peaceful outcome when Norway seceded from Sweden, and that anti-war sentiment in the USA played an important role in preventing America from invading Mexico when Mexico nationalized American petroleum interests. Generally: taking a stand for conscience, provided that it is done in an appealing way which successfully shifts society's values in a good direction, is not just wishing social structure would change; it is changing it.

(c) Rules have an internal aspect. Rule-following is internal to the minds of the people following them. They take guidance from rules. The race to the bottom, for example, attracts investors who take guidance from the rules of accounting. The corporate managers who make investment decisions follow the rules of sound management. They deliberately cut costs; they deliberately choose to accept offers to invest in nations that offer favorable terms. They do not intend to produce a world of poverty and violence. They do intend to correctly comply with their fiduciary duties as the managers of the funds that others have entrusted to them. Their deliberate acts figure among the causes of the race to the bottom, even though they do not intend its consequences.

Insofar as the causal connections between rule-following and its sometimes unknown and/or unintended consequences becomes better known, it becomes easier to design institutions that work. Correctly following socially approved rules should lead to socially desired results. Often it does not. Emancipatory research is then needed to increase the self-transformative capacity of the context. It is needed to mesh the inward and subjective aspect of rule-following with the objective consequences of following the rules.

Evaluating objective consequences using "emancipation" as the standard privileges freedom as a value. Patomaki's sympathies are generally with those who name the desired outcome of social change as "emancipation," following the lead of Jurgen Habermas, who, in Knowledge and Human Interests defined emancipatory science as science whose governing interest is to produce knowledge that liberates. But Patomaki broadens the scope of the dialogue about goals. Freedom is not the only value. "Social practices and systems can, in fact, be evaluated from a number of normative standpoints, including economic efficiency and stability, as well as rights, justice, democracy, human flourishing, and ecological well being." (46) I add "stewardship" (Gandhi's trusteeship) to Patomaki's open list because it is a virtue that promises to transform economic power, and thus to overcome structural obstacles to peaceful change. (As Gandhi points out, the need for trusteeship does not disappear with democratic or public control of resources. Public sector managers, as well as private sector and non-profit sector managers, are called by stewardship to use property for the good of others. They too are tempted by self-interest to exercise economic power to withhold the use of property until a bargain is struck maximally favorable to themselves.)

I will extend my discussion of Hart's internal aspect of rules in order to make the point that peacebuilding requires attention to both the subjective and the objective sides of structural transformation. The internal aspect of rules represents the subjective side.

When The Concept of Law was published (in 1961), Hart's insistence that rules have an internal aspect drove a wedge into the armor of positivism. The person who follows the rule does so deliberately, consciously, in the privacy of her or his own mind. Observers cannot see the internal aspect, pace behaviorism, pace behavioristic interpretations of Wittgenstein, pace the Humean doctrine that science is about finding constant or probable conjunctions among the sense impressions of observers, pace certain versions of French structuralism, post-structuralism, and Marxism. Positivists were famous for denying that what they called "introspection" was a legitimate method for science. Science, for them, had to be based on what could be observed. What could not be observed might just as well not exist. Hart's internal aspect of rules, in contrast, reflected the reversion of post-Wittgensteinian theories of human action to the Aristotelian principle that people act according to their characters and on the basis of their beliefs --beliefs which may and may not coincide with the objective facts.

Today the genie is out of the bottle. Although statistical methods are still deeply entrenched in the practice of social science, nobody now defends them by appealing to empiricist and positivist premises. "Positivism is a swear word that nobody swears by," as Bhaskar remarked. It is generally conceded that rules, and therefore social structures, consist in part of the subjective beliefs and attitudes of people. A rule is a rule (in part) because people subjectively look to it for guidance. Aristotle won. If "structuralism" means that people do not continually renegotiate, choose, and reconstruct the patterns of social life, then structuralism is wrong. Something like the theories of "structuration" offered by Giddens, Patomaki, Pierre Bourdieu, Michel de Certeau, or Jacques Derrida, is right, or closer to right.

It is tempting, but mistaken, to conclude that the rules that govern society are only the rules of daily life writ large; and that the rules of daily life are just the subjective "maxims of actions" named by Kant as the principles individuals choose to guide their conduct. If these tempting conclusions were true, peace could be established by spiritual conversion. An example will illustrate why such a subjective approach to peace is incomplete.

Suppose that a group of people changes the rules they follow in daily life from the bookkeeping rules of buy cheap and sell dear which define homo economicus to the rule "love they neighbor as thyself" prescribed by the world's principal religious traditions. The "internal aspect" of the new rule is that each person in the group takes it as a guide. Following the new rule's guidance (or believing they are following it, which amounts to the same thing as long as it is the subjective side that is under consideration), the members of the group withdraw money from their savings accounts, and use the money to buy foodstuffs, and to pay for shipping the food to be given away free to hungry people in a third world country. A consequence of the availability of free food in the third world country is that the local farmers cannot sell their products. The farmers are compelled to stop farming, and to migrate to the cities (joining other ex-farmers who were forced to migrate to the city for the different reason that capital-intensive corporate agriculture displaced them). They join the beggars who are homeless on the city streets. The subjective rule adopted by the donors of food thus proved to have disastrous objective consequences. The food donors encountered a structural problem --and just when we thought we had learned to solve structural problems by changing the internal aspects of rules, and therefore the rules, that constituted the structures.

The general point is the same as the one made by the previous example of the corporate managers who participate in the race to the bottom. In the previous example, the corporate managers do intend to follow the rules of homo economicus, the rules prescribed by generally accepted accounting principles. They intend to manage their businesses properly. They aim to be faithful to the fiduciary duties they owe to their shareholders. Poverty and violence are the objective consequences, not the subjective intentions, of the maxims to which they look for guidance.

The general point is that changing the internal aspect of rules is necessary but not sufficient to change social structures.

The internal aspect of rules is not going to go away. It is not going to disappear as a Paretian derivative that can be disregarded by social science because it has no causal power. (47) However, people who follow rules often do not know the causal powers of their rule-following. Social scientists often do not know them either. Patomaki argues that it is their job to find out. They can find out, Patomaki claims, using a critical realist methodology that systematically seeks to link causes and effects, where rules are part and parcel of the causes. The subjective rules people follow, the internal aspect of rules, is part, but only part, of the causal complex that leads to the consequences. (48)

If too much emphasis on the causal efficacy of the subjective side leads to the illusion that structures can be transformed by spiritual conversion, too much emphasis on the objective side leads to the illusion that structures can be transformed by public policy, without spiritual conversion, or, in the alternative, to the illusion that no structural transformation is needed. The objective illusion can be called the Keynesian illusion, after John Maynard Keynes, who explicitly proposed to leave the subjective values of the masses of the people alone. Keynes proposed to correct the instability (and to some extent the injustice) of capitalism through macroeconomic policies guided by the new science of macroeconomics, of which he was one of the founders. Ordinary people would go on buying and selling as usual. Business people would make their business plans as usual. But the context in which they make their calculations was to be managed by the policy instruments of the nation-state, and hopefully also by those to be wielded by the international economic institutions Keynes envisaged. Taxes, interest rates, public spending, price supports, even price controls when necessary, public deficits or surpluses calculated to offset the ups and downs of the business cycle, foreign exchange controls, bank reserve requirements, government backing for collective bargaining, as well as other means for increasing or decreasing the money supply, were among the policy instruments of government, which would manage the system to make it work better, without requiring any improvement in the manners and morals of the general population.

The Swedish economist Gunnar Myrdal was another of the founders of macroeconomics. He was one of the architects of its successful application in the formation of public policy in Sweden in the decades immediately after World War II. Myrdal believed, however, in the importance of the subjective side of social transformation. He believed that the achievement of social democracy did not mainly depend on central government policy. It mainly depended on the deliberate and conscious practices of the mass of the people working to mobilize resources to meet needs in municipalities, in cooperatives, and at every level. Myrdal wanted social planning to be the framework for realizing a Jeffersonian ideal of grassroots democracy; he wanted a welfare culture, characterized by solidarity, participation, and identification with the community. He wrote: "The reason why it is important to stress the deeper changes of people's attitudes as a causal factor underlying the trend toward intervention and planning in the Western world is that these psychological changes, related to the whole development of our modern society, make the process non-reversible." (49)

As it has turned out, the macro-managing of the modern welfare state has proved to have severe limitations. The gains of social democracy have proven to be more reversible than Myrdal thought they were. Social democracy in Sweden and elsewhere encountered "structural problems." (50) Experience has shown that although macroeconomics may be a partial solution to structural problems, it is not the whole solution. Although Myrdal was mistaken to the extent that he thought that the forward progress of social democracy was non-reversible, the principle he enunciated might nevertheless be right: if there had been more stress on the deeper changes of people's attitudes, then perhaps the progress of social democracy would have been non-reversible. It would have been non-reversible in the sense that its enhanced capacity for continual self-transformation would have been preserved.

The decline of social democracy, and the general decline of the influence of Keynesian economic theory (which was, for the most part the type of theory that guided the West European social democracies after World War II), suggests that there may be something wrong with the general concept of improving society without improving people. I do not mean to oppose this suggestion to explanations of the decline of social democracy which focus on the crises of regimes of accumulation; or to oppose it to explanations of the decline of social democracy which focus on the global liberalization of trade, production, and finance which enhanced the exit options of capital. Rather, I propose to integrate this suggestion with them. A theory of social structure which sees structures as rules, relationships, and practices suggests that if structures are going to be transformed, transforming them will require something more many-sided than any possible combination of policy instruments wielded by well-informed civil servants. Specifically, if structures are made (in part) of rules, and if rules have an internal aspect, then structures are not going to change without a change in the subjective beliefs and conscious behavior of the people who follow the rules.

Patomaki advocates research that is emancipatory in the sense that it increases freedom. Learning how systems and structures work is liberating because it facilitates transforming them so that they work better. The future is undetermined. The future can be improved by enlightened human action. Emancipatory research can enlighten human action.

Peace research of the kind that Patomaki advocates contributes to bringing about a future in which doing what is subjectively considered right produces what is objectively good. It brings closer a future in which people who conscientiously follow the rules which are regarded as correct and proper in their social milieux do not fall into structural traps which produce results they do not imagine or intend. Although emancipatory research does not prevent the oppression of the weak by the strong, it is likely to empower the weak and inhibit the strong by making oppression visible. Although it does not, either, prevent the overwhelming of pro-social motives by anti-social motives, it is likely to encourage moral education designed to strengthen pro-social motives. This is so because it shows that social structures are (in part) constituted by deliberate human action.


A logical plan for peace implicit in After International Relations starts with work in the social sciences devoted to freedom and other values. Patomaki advocates research guided by a critical realist methodology and philosophy. Critical realism attributes the success of the natural sciences to their ability to grasp the causal powers of the real structures which produce the phenomena that scientific theories explain. Realistic social science seeks social causal explanations, and for that very reason it sees the future as open to improvement through deliberate choices. Emancipatory research done with the methods of critical realism improves self-transformative capacities, both within societies and between societies. It makes peaceful change easier to institutionalize. I have simplified Patomaki's multifaceted account by suggesting that peace-enhancing structural transformation must proceed both on the "subjective side" and on the "objective side." Reliable expectations that needed changes can be achieved nonviolently lead to peace.

After International Relations considers many topics which I do not mention. I do mention a number of points concerning structural problems and structural transformation which I believe to be in the spirit of the book, but which are not in the book, and which its author may not agree with. These points might be briefly and colloquially summarized as follows: Since democracy facilitates peace, the success of democracy makes peace more likely. A successful democracy is a social democracy; it delivers the goods. To deliver the goods it is necessary to cope with structural obstacles and ultimately to transform structures. Structures can be transformed because they are made of rules (etc.). Rules can change because behavior can change.

Notes and References
* Since the word "love" occurs only three times in the paper that follows, these words taken from a homily by the martyred Salvadoran Archbishop Oscar Romero might appear to be an irrelevant introduction. Instead of explaining their relevance to this paper's central themes, I propose the discernment of their relevance as an exercise for the reader. A group discussion about this paper might begin with the question, "What does the rest of the paper have to do with the introductory quotation?"
(1) Heikki Patomaki, After International Relations: critical realism and the (re)construction of world politics. London: Routledge, 2001.
(2) Quincy Wright, A Study of War. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965. "The analysis of this study suggests that the prevention of war involves simultaneous, general, and concerted attacks on educational, social, political and legal fronts." Id. at p. 1310.
(3) Karl Deutsch, The Nerves of Government. New York: Free Press, 1966.
(4) Karl W. Deutsch, Sidney A. Burrell, Robert A. Kann, Maurice Lee Jr., Martin Lichterman, Raymond E. Lindgren, Francis L. Loewenheim, Richard W. Van Wagenen, Political Community in the North Atlantic Area. Princeton New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1957. pp. 135-36.
(5) P.E. Corbett, The Individual and World Society, Center for Research on World Political Institutions, Princeton University, publication no. 2, 1953, p. 59. Cited by Deutsch et al at p. 164.
(6) Peter Wallensteen and Margareta Sollenberg, "Armed Conflict 1989-1999," Journal of Peace Research September, 2000, pp. 635-649. The authors count 110 "armed conflicts" during the period, defined as having at least 25 battle deaths. Counting each of these as a "war," (although the authors limit the term "war" to conflicts with more than 1,000 battle deaths), the breakdown is 94 civil wars, 9 civil wars with foreign intervention, and 7 interstate wars.
(7) Thus Max Weber: "What we must vigorously oppose is the view that one may be `scientifically' contented with the conventional self-evidentness of very widely accepted value judgments. The specific function of science, it seems to me, is just the opposite: namely, to ask questions about these things which convention makes self-evident." Max Weber, The Methodology of the Social Sciences (a collection of his writings edited by Edward Shils and Henry Finch). New York: Free Press, 1949. p. 13.
(8) Roy Bhaskar, Reclaiming Reality, a critical interpretation of contemporary philosophy. London: Verso (New Left Books), 1989.
(9) Jeffrey Sachs and Felipe Larrain, Macroeconomics in the Global Economy. Englewood Cliffs NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1993. p. xvii.
(10) Bruce Russett and John R. Oneal, Triangulating Peace: democracy, interdependence, and international organizations. New York: W.W. Norton, 2001. p. 122.
(11) Ernest Nagel, The Structure of Science, problems in the logic of scientific explanation. New York: Harcourt Brace and World, 1961. Max Weber, cited above, is also one of the sources of the Verstehen/Erklaren distinction.
(12) Karl Popper, The Poverty of Historicism. Boston: Beacon Press, 1957.
(13)Jurgen Habermas, Knowledge and Human Interests. Boston: Beacon Press, 1971. Habermas starts with a version of the Erklaren/Verstehen distinction, conflating technical instrumental knowledge with Erklaren, and practical social understanding with Verstehen. He transcends this dichotomy by proposing a third kind of knowledge, emancipatory or liberating knowledge.
(14) Paul Ricoeur, Freud and Philosophy: an essay on interpretation. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1970. "...a disjunction: either an explanation [Erklaren] in terms of energy, or an understanding [Verstehen] in terms of phenomenology. It must be recognized, however, that Freudianism exists only on the basis of its refusal of that disjunction." p. 66. [German words added]
(15) Anthony Giddens, New Rules of Sociological Method (2d edition). Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993. Giddens brings sociology into dialogue with post-Wittgensteinian philosophies of human action. The result is a social science which can be called neo-Aristotelian in the respect that deliberate human action plays key roles in explanation. Meanings are causes.
(16) Herbert Marcuse, One Dimensional Man. Boston: Beacon Press, 1964. Marcuse criticizes behaviorism and empiricism generally. The transformation of society requires the work of the negative, which denies what is actual and enlarges the domain of what can be thought to be possible.
(17) Roy Bhaskar, p. 9 Scientific Realism and Human Emancipation. London: Verso (New Left Books), 1986. p. 106.
(18) Triangulating Peace, p. 85.
(19) Triangulating Peace, p. 75
(20) "The bedrock of the case for scientific realism [of which critical realism is a variant] is the argument from the success of science. Most versions of the argument have the following structure:
SS1: The enterprise of science is (enormously) more successful than can be accounted for by chance.
SS2: The only (or best) explanation for this success is the truth (or approximate truth) of scientific theories.
SS3: Therefore, we should be scientific realists." Andre Kukla, Studies in Scientific Realism. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. p. 12. [explanation added]

(21) I am not distinguishing the broadly "empiricist" tradition epitomized in traditions stemming from David Hume from an equally broad notion of "positivist." Patomaki writes: "By positivism I mean the set of abstract and closely inter-related ideas that causality is about constant conjunction (`whenever A follows B follows'); that the properties of entities are independent; that their relations are external or non-necessary; that the basic things of the world are atomist, or at least constant in their inner structure; and that being can be defined in terms of our perceptions or knowledge of it." After International Relations, p. 3. Patomaki also remarks, "With Bhaskar (1986:226), however, I concede that `most of positivism is already contained [and] elegantly expounded in the writings of Hume....'" After International Relations, p. 41. Giddens characterizes the traditions loosely called "positivist" as follows: "First, a conviction that all `knowledge' is capable of being expressed in terms which refer in an immediate way to some reality, or aspects of reality that can be apprehended through the senses. Second, a faith that the methods and logical form of science, as epitomized in classical physics, can be applied to the study of social phenomena." Anthony Giddens, New Rules of Sociological Method. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1993. p. 136.
(22) Robert Isaak, Managing World Economic Change. Englewood Cliffs NJ: Prentice-Hall, 2000.
(23) I use the phrase "what actually happens" to introduce a description in terms of a neo-Aristotelian theory of human action, rooted in categories drawn from ordinary language. It could be argued that all descriptions are equally theory-laden, and that no description has any more right than any other to claim the privilege of naming "what actually happens." It could be argued that a description couched in operationally defined terms would be superior to my commonsense naming of "what actually happens" because it would facilitate communication among scientists by specifying the procedures for measuring the phenomenon to be studied. It could be argued that there is no way to tell which of the infinite number of ways any given phenomenon could be described is a good description to start with until one finds out, after doing scientific research, which description leads to the most fruitful results. I do not agree with any of these three arguments that could be made. Instead I claim, agreeing in this respect with Peter Winch, that a description made of common basic words that function in social life, like "people who own capital move it" has a rightful priority over a description in a technical language devised for scientific purposes. It is "ground level" and a "place to begin" in a more justifiable sense than the "atomic facts" and "protocol sentences" of the positivists were. See Peter Winch, The Idea of a Social Science, and its relation to philosophy. London: Routledge & Paul, 1958.
(24) Jeremy Brecher, Tim Costello, and Brendan Smith, Globalization from Below. Cambridge MA: South End Press, 2000. p. 5.
(25) Jeffrey Winters, Power in Motion: capital mobility and the Indonesian state. Ithaca NY: Cornell University Press, 1996.
(26) John Maynard Keynes, General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money. New York: Harcourt Brace, 1936. p. 27
(27) John Maynard Keynes, quoted by E.F. Schumacher, Small is Beautiful. New York: Harper & Row, 1973. p. 20.
(28) Triangulating Peace, p. 122.
(29) Karin Knorr Cetina, "Objectual Practice," in Theodore Schatzki, Karin Knorr Cetina, and Eike von Savigny (eds.), The Practice Turn in Contemporary Theory. London: Routledge, 2001. p. 184.
(30) Roy Bhaskar, Scientific Realism and Human Emancipation. London: Verso (New Left Books), 1986. p. 122-23.
(31) Bhaskar, op. cit. p. 123.
(32) Jean Piaget, Structuralism. New York: Basic Books, 1970. Piaget discusses the use of the term by Claude Levi-Strauss, Noam Chomsky, and many others. Anthony Giddens has discussed social structure rather thoroughly. The glossary at the end of his The Constitution of Society defines structuration, structural principles, structural properties, structure, and structures, as well as related terms such as "system." Anthony Giddens, The Constitution of Society. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1984. pp. 376-377. See also the discussions of structure in his New Rules of Sociological Method: A Positive Critique of Interpretive Sociologies. New York: Harper & Row, 1976; and Central Problems in Social Theory: Action, Structure, and Contradiction in Social Analysis. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979. Almost all of his books say something about the concept of structure. For critical discussions see, besides Patomaki, C.G.A. Bryant and D. Jary (eds.) Giddens' Theory of Structuration: A Critical Appreciation. London: Routledge, 1990; Ira J. Cohen, Structuration Theory: Anthony Giddens and the Constitution of Social Life. London: Macmillan, 1989.
(33) After International Relations, p. 117
(34) Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations. New York: Macmillan, 1953. Throughout, and especially paragraphs 31, 54, 81-87, 100-103, 133, 146-155 (rule and principle), 200-202, 206-08, 227-238, 380.
(35) Hannah Arendt, On Violence. New York: Harcourt Brace & World, 1970. Arendt's analysis provides a theoretical account of the ineffectiveness of military hardware where there is no capacity to act in concert. It can almost be said that she described the collapse of the Soviet Union two decades before it happened.
(36) Gene Sharp, The Politics of Nonviolent Action. Boston: Porter Sargent, 1973.
(37) John R. Commons, Legal Foundations of Capitalism. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1939 (first published 1924). pp. 52-55.
(38) After International Relations p. 113.
(39) After International Relations p. 116
(40) Anthony Giddens, The Constitution of Society: outline of a theory of structuration. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1984. pp. 185-86.
(41) After International Relations p. 117
(42) H.L.A. Hart, The Concept of Law. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1961.
(43) J.L. Brierly, The Law of Nations: an introduction to the international law of peace. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1949. p. 73.
(44) M.K. Gandhi, My Socialism. Ahmedabad, India: Navajivan Publishing House, 1959. p. 30.
(45) Betty Reardon, Sexism and the War System. New York: Teachers College Press, 1985.
(46) After International Relations, p. 158. Partners:Viagra in Deutschland.
(47) See the critique of Pareto's (causally efficacious) residues and (ineffective) derivatives in Winch's The Idea of a Social Science p. 103 ff. I am fighting, in agreement with Patomaki and partially in agreement with Winch, a never-ending battle against a prejudice that has been entrenched in the social sciences at least since Condorcet. What lends itself to mathematical treatment and/or analysis in terms of the pursuit of self-interest, is taken to be "material," while what lends itself to discussion in natural languages and in the languages of the religious and ethical belief-systems that have guided human cultures is taken to be "idealistic." The opposite is the case. Language-guided practice is material reality. Mathematical models are abstractions.
(48) Although I have made the point that social structures and rules are centrally involved in Patomaki's account of social causality, I have not made any attempt to summarize it. He summarizes it as follows: "The notions of context and complex form the core of CR methodology. According to def. 1, cause is an insufficient but necessary part of a condition that is itself unnecessary but sufficient for the production of a result, i.e. the INUS condition. There are five necessary social components in any causal complex (K) capable of producing events, episodes, tendencies and the like, namely: actors (AR); regulative and constitutive rules (RU); resources as competences and faculties (RE); relational and positional practices (PRA); and meaningful action (AN). Also, actors and their characteristic logics of action are historically constituted. Together, these related and interdependent components, and the emergent powers and properties of consequent social systems, create the sufficient but unnecessary complex for the production of a result. Hence, there is never a single cause but instead always a causal complex K = [AR, RU, RE, PRA, AN] perhaps including emergent properties and powers." After International Relations p. 119.
(49) Gunnar Myrdal, Beyond the Welfare State. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1960. p. 36.
(50) For accounts of the structural problems encountered by Swedish social democracy see my "The Revenge of the Iron Law of Wages," Chapter 8 of The Dilemmas of Social Democracies available on my website and the works cited there in the footnotes; Chapter 9 of After International Relations and the works there cited; and, generally, the Marxist literature on regimes of accumulation and their crises discussed and cited by David Harvey in The Condition of Postmodernity. Oxford: Blackwell, 1990.