Show Me How It Travels

Stephen P. Turner (b. 1951) spent a career taking apart a single habit of mind. Social theory keeps reaching for hidden collective things to explain what men do. Tacit knowledge. Shared practices. Norms. Culture. Social imaginaries. Group minds. A scholar names one of these, treats it as a cause, and the account feels finished. Turner asks a plain question of every such claim. How does this thing pass from one man to the next? How does it stay the same across a million heads and across decades? Where does it live when no one is using it?

When no answer comes, the collective thing turns into a secret essence. The group holds something that drives behavior, and no one can show where it sits or how it moves. Turner did the demolition in The Social Theory of Practices (1994) and Explaining the Normative (2010), and he kept at it into the 2020s. His verdict is hard. There is no shared server in the sky. There is no downloadable group property. There are individuals, their experiences, their habits, the feedback they get, and the ways one mind rebuilds what another mind did. Anything more is mystery. And mystery blocks explanation.

Take that standard and carry it to the men publishing now. The leading anti-essentialists today are not always the men who use the word. They are the ones who reduce mysterious collective entities to cognition, incentives, institutions, networks, evolution, and causes you can trace.

Joseph Henrich (b. 1968) at Harvard University might be the most widely read social scientist whose work cuts against essence. He explains culture by transmission. Men copy the prestigious. They learn from the successful. Skills and norms accumulate across generations through these copying biases, and institutions lock them in. No group spirit floats above the copying and steers it. Culture is what spreads through minds and sticks. The WEIRDest People in the World (2020) carries the argument into deep history. Western psychology, he says, traces to a marriage rule the Church imposed centuries ago, not to a Western soul that was always there. The price comes from the humanities, where much of the field reads him as a reductionist who flattens meaning into copying and counting.

Steven Pinker (b. 1954) works the same vein. For decades he has asked for causes where others offer narratives, in language, in violence, in reason. The price is steady hostility from scholars who see him pulling the social down into the psychological.

Dan Sperber (b. 1942) gives anthropology its closest thing to a Turner-ready program. His epidemiology of representations explains how ideas spread. They spread because individual minds take them in, reshape them, and pass on a version. A culture does not own the idea and hand it down intact. The price is the margin. Symbolic and interpretive anthropology keep their distance.

Pascal Boyer builds on Sperber. Religion holds steady across societies, he argues, because certain concepts fit the human mind and travel well through it. Gods, spirits, ancestors. The shapes that survive are the ones memory and inference favor. No collective faith hovers over the believers and installs itself in each one. The cost is the cost Sperber pays.

James Mahoney (b. 1968) at Northwestern University names the error in plain terms. In his 2023 paper Constructivist Set-Theoretic Analysis he calls essentialism a cognitive error in causal work, the habit of treating a variable as if it carries one fixed, average effect to every case. He offers configurational methods that let causes combine and shift from case to case. Turner engaged the argument with approval in Philosophy of the Social Sciences. The price is that careful, case-sensitive work sells worse than a grand claim about what a whole society wants.

Brian Epstein at Tufts University works the metaphysics. In The Ant Trap (2015) he argues that social facts do not rest on attitudes a group holds in common. John Searle‘s collective intentionality, he says, smuggles a group essence back in through the side door. Social kinds rest on grounding relations that are messier and often individual or institutional. The price is the slow reception that careful social ontology tends to get.

Daniel Little (b. 1949) has argued for years for microfoundations. A claim about a structure or a norm has to cash out in the actions of individuals and the causes that move them. He calls the stance methodological localism. He has read Turner closely and with sympathy. His realism keeps the social world heterogeneous, plastic, and contingent, with no fixed essences underneath. The price is that this picture refuses the tidy story readers want.

Randall Collins (b. 1941) ranks among the great anti-essentialists in sociology. He explains conflict and solidarity through interaction rituals, networks, and emotional energy rather than through class consciousness or a racial essence or an ideology a group carries. Two men meet, attention locks, emotion builds, and a small charge of solidarity comes out the other side. Stack up the encounters and you get the large patterns. Turner has criticized him in places, yet Collins stands far closer to Turner than to most of the discipline. The price is the in-between seat. The quantitative camp and the critical theorists each hold him at arm’s length.

Richard Biernacki has spent a career attacking what he calls theoretical realism, the habit of treating an abstraction as a real causal object in the world. Few sociologists doubt collective entities so steadily. The price is relative obscurity.

James C. Scott (1936-2024) built a whole body of work against essentialized states, peasants, and resistance. His method stays local, close to the ground, alert to what men do rather than to what a category supposedly is. The price came from both sides, the Marxists and the state-centered institutionalists.

David Stasavage explains large outcomes, the rise of representative bodies and the reach of states, through information, bargaining, and institutional incentive rather than national character or civilizational essence. The price is that such accounts read as prosaic next to a sweeping story about a civilization’s soul.

Quentin Skinner (b. 1940) built his contextualism to take down timeless concepts. There is no eternal essence of liberty or sovereignty or rights. There are men using these words in particular fights at particular times. Turner disputes parts of Skinner’s account of the tacit, yet they share the same suspicion of the timeless abstraction. The price is that contextualist history denies the grand narrative readers came for.

David Pinsof explains morality by coalition rather than by timeless moral truth. Men do not carry fixed ideological essences. They form alliances and then reach for moral words to serve them. The account strips moral language of its sacred glow, and so it draws fire from left and right at once.

The list is the easy part. The cost is the lesson.

The first cost is moral clarity. Essence stories carry feeling. The working class wants this. The West believes that. Whiteness produces this. The people demand that. These stories hand you heroes and villains. A transmission account gives you copying biases and feedback loops and a column of caveats. It does not stir a room.

The second cost is membership. Many academic camps form around a shared abstraction. Question the abstraction and you threaten the camp built on it. Turner’s own path shows this. He made his name doubting the concepts that gave whole subfields their reason to exist. The colleagues who needed those concepts did not thank him.

The third cost is visibility in the press. Journalists want essences. An essence makes a story. A causal account makes a footnote. The culture shifted prints clean and short. The truer version runs two thousand words through incentives, institutions, prestige ladders, and network effects, and an editor cuts it.

The fourth cost is isolation. The anti-essentialist ends up a nomad. Too empirical for the theorists. Too theoretical for the empiricists. Too skeptical for the activists. Too causal for the humanists. Turner sits in that seat. So do most of the men above.

The fifth cost is political. Movements run on categories. Categories run on simplification. The anti-essentialist keeps pointing out why the simplification is false. That habit serves truth and starves politics.

So the question stays the same. A man answers a social puzzle with culture, identity, discourse, tradition, consciousness, collective memory, or historical destiny, and the reply does not change. Fine. Show me how it travels. Show me how it passes from one man to the next, how it reproduces, how it keeps its shape. The men who keep asking that question pay for it. They trade the warm story for the cold causal account, and the warm story is what crowds, editors, and departments reward.

About Luke Ford

I teach Alexander Technique in Beverly Hills (Alexander90210.com).
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