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  be sure before-hand how extensive the consequences of
such questioning will be.

I suggest then that we draw three conclusions.  First, that the
information and ideas which we store, transmit and create in
universities are, despite the common usage of the word
'knowledge', hypothetical and provisional.  Second, that
research can only flourish where doubt and questioning are
not only permitted, but encouraged as intellectual virtues,
and thirdly, that such open-ended research is certain to have
complex and unforeseeable consequences.

RESEARCH IN THE SOCIAL SCIENCES

Knowledge is a social product.  It exists effectively only in
relations between people; it has consequences only in so far
as it is validated by its social acceptance within some group
or community.  Its effective use depends on an appropriate
cultural climate, and on appropriate social and economic
organisation.  Once in use, it has real social consequences,
always including some unforeseen by its discoverers and
transmitters.  To put the point differently, science and
technology are not isolates, or ends in themselves, but are
the products of specific social circumstances and processes;
and have specific social purposes and social consequences.

If these are truisms, then why is it that the study of the
society is apparently such a minor part of university research
programmes? Britain, as we have seen, spends only a
fraction on the social sciences of what it spends for, say,
developing Concorde alone.  Spending on the sciences is an
even smaller part of total research spending in less
developed countries.

The developing countries are attempting a social
transformation without precedent.  The social consequences
of sustained rapid economic growth are quite bewildering in
their complexity, are by no means predictable, but certainly
involve serious disamenities and miseries for many citizens.
At the same time, to a far greater degree than ever before,
governments of all kinds are committed to the attempt to
plan their futures.  It might seem that a major effort to record
accurately and in detail the changes that are taking place,



 



  and to analyse them in the most sophisticated and profound
ways possible, would almost certainly have direct benefits in
framing more effective government action.  Yet by and large
this is far from happening.

Social science is far from ignored.  Above all, economists
are in constant demand, and given considerable prestige and
homage.  Indeed, studies of development are dominated by
economists, and economics.  Of course, economists are
necessary.  We could obviously do with better economists in
all countries, and more of them in some.  But the assumption
that economists are the main kind of social scientist is
unfortunate and mistaken.  (We are for example here
organised by the Economic Division of CENTS).

Lake technology, economics is dominated by the west.
Relatively few western economists are mainly interested in
developing economies, and their understanding of
developing economies is an outsider's view.  Moreover,
economics deals with models,—quantitative models.  The
use of models for policy making implies confidence that the
model fits the real situation at least in the main essentials.
But even in strictly economic terms, the economists differ
among themselves about the relative importance of various
quantitative factors; the debate over the cause of inflation
provides an excellent example.  How then can we trust the
economists' models?

More serious and fundamental, economists imply, and often
politicians and administrators accept, that what economists
define as intellectually respectable and real, as 'economics',
is indeed more real and more important than other social and
political factors.  Hence when their models fail to work, they
talk of non-economic variables upsetting the economic
processes.  This kind of thinking is fallacious.  It preserves
the plausibility of economic models which do not fit the facts
by the expedient of inventing and blaming 'non-economic'
variables.

I am I know on controversial ground.  I argue that social and
political factors are necessary conditions of the working of a
market economy, and that the success of economics in



 



  western industrialised societies is partly a result of the
relative isolation of economic relations and institutions from
other social and political relations and institutions.  In fact,
even in the industrialised countries, the degree to which
economics is embedded in social and political relations is
often seriously underestimated.

Moreover, economics does not seem to me to be morally
neutral, as for example, physics is morally neutral.  It is
based on simple assumptions about the nature of man which
encourage acquisitiveness and self interest,—or, if you like,
hard work, efficiency and rewards for the able.  Even more
important, economics assumes that the national growth of
material wealth is an end in itself.  May we not then be in
danger of underestimating the disamenities and the political
and social consequences of very rapid economic growth?

The second main use of social sciences is in the training of
administrators and lawyers.  Turkey and British India
founded colleges for this purpose in the nineteenth century.
The assumption was basically platonic; that good laws made
a good state, that is, a powerful and successful state.  Thus it
was believed that by importing the political philosophy and
institutions, the laws and administrative procedures of the
west, other nations would rapidly 'catch up’.  But these
colleges were not conceived as institutions for research, but
for transferring and transmitting currently-received western
legal political and administrative truth.(4)

Thirdly, all governments and all administration need social
information.  How many teachers are there? How many
children will reach school age in five years time? What is the
distribution of the size of farming units? What is the rate of
population changes in different parts of the country? What
research is being done, in what subjects and how is it paid
for? How relevant is it to national needs? The list is infinite.

Such information gathering is usually done by government
itself or by normal administrative staff through special units
or institutions.  But all counting of social cases of anything
depend on definitions, and the usefulness and implications of
the statistics in turns depends on these definitions.  Very
often, such statistics are much more inaccurate or more



 



  seriously misleading than the administrators realise.  What is
needed is not more statistical sophistication, but more
systematic thinking, and training in thinking, about the
problems of making social classifications,—or fixing
definitions and boundaries.

In the last ten years in Britain, the recognition of the possible
relevance of social sciences to government has increased
greatly.  This expansion has led to a serious debate, which
still continues, on how government should make use of
social scientists.  Certainly, many attempts have not been
unduly successful.  Many of the points made in this debate
are relevant to the development and use of social sciences,
especially non-economic social sciences, in developing
countries.  I set out only a few main arguments.

Administrators and politicians at all levels are necessarily
committed to specific aims and to time-tables.  As member
organisations they are also committed to holding on to their
jobs, to not displeasing their superiors, and normally to
supporting, at least informally, their own group, section,
division, company or ministry against its rivals.  They need
research for four basic purposes.  First, they need
information for making decisions; secondly, since all
purposive action necessarily implies assumptions about
causation, they need causal analyses; thirdly they need
imaginative suggestions about the solutions to difficulties,—
how to deal with the legal problems of ownership in shanty
towns by squatters or how to improve modern language
teaching in high schools; fourthly, they need,—or ought to
need,—disinterested evaluation of projects programmes and
policies to see how effective they have been.  Yet when they
turn to academic social scientists for help, misunderstandings
very often arise.

First, administrators and academics do not share purposes.
The administrator's reputation depends on effective action;
the academic's on publishing interesting data or on resolving
theoretical puzzles.  Secondly, the academic, quite
genuinely, may see the situation differently from the
administrator.  He redefines the problem, and often includes
the administrator and his organisation as a variable to be



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