
THE NEW PRODUCTION 
      OF KNOWLEDGE - THE DYNAMICS OF SCIENCE AND RESEARCH IN CONTEMPORARY SOCIETIES, 
      Michael Gibbons, Camille Limoges, Helga Nowotny, Peter Scott Simon Schwartzman, 
      Martin Trow. London, Sage Publications, 1994. 
      
      Steve Fuller, "Is there life for sociological theory 
      after the sociology of Sociology:?" The Journal of the British 
      Sociological Association, 29, 1, p. 159, Feb 1995
      
	  Abstract: 
      In a review essay, the following books are discussed: 1. Reflexive Modernization: 
      Politics, Tradition, and Aesthetics in the Modern Social Order, by Ulrich 
      Beck, Anthony Giddens, and Scott Lash (Cambridge: Polity, 1996); 2. The 
      New Production of Knowledge: The Dynamics of Science and Research in Contemporary 
      Societies, by Michael Gibbons, Camille Limoges, Helga Nowotny, Simon 
      Schwartzman, Peter Scott, and Martin Trow (London: Sage, 1994); 3. New 
      Rules of Sociological Method, by Anthony Giddens (Cambridge: Polity, 
      1993); and 4. Knowledge Societies, by Nico Stehr (London: Sage, 199
      
 
      The relationship between recent sociological theory and the sociology of 
      scientific knowledge is best characterised as one of mutual aversion.(1) 
      This is not because sociological theorists have been oblivious to the prominence 
      of the natural sciences and their epistemic emulators in the contemporary 
      world. On the contrary, in two of the books under review, theorists Nico 
      Stehr and Ulrich Beck come dangerously close to reifying the significance 
      of science under such catch-all rubrics for our times as 'the knowledge 
      society' and 'the risk society'. The former slogan captures the increasing 
      need for scientific expertise to license all kinds of social action, whereas 
      the latter revokes our paradoxical dependence on science as both the source 
      and the solution of major social problems. Together the two slogans define 
      the parameters of 'Mode 2' knowledge production celebrated by Michael Gibbons 
      and his band of the multinational, policy-oriented theorists. 
      
      Even the theorist whose avoidance of the sociology of science has been the 
      most conspicuous -- the otherwise synoptic Anthony Giddens -- has recently 
      felt the need to confront the critical literature in this field. Yet, when 
      Giddens finally does discuss the natural sciences -- in the introduction 
      to the second edition of New Rules of Sociological method -- he treats them, 
      not as a species of social knowledge, but as a species of knowledge that 
      continues to stand significantly apart from society, by virtue of 'natural' 
      objects being unable to talk back to their corresponding scientists. The 
      authors of The New Production of Knowledge would say that by identifying 
      the natural sciences exclusively with what transpires within the four walls 
      of a research laboratory, Giddens stresses the role of the sciences in producing 
      knowledge for a disciplinary community to the exclusion of their role in 
      distributing knowledge across society. Moreover, because Giddens uncritically 
      takes on board the idea that human beings are equally 'knowledgeable' social 
      agents, he gives himself little reason to examine the role that natural 
      scientific knowledge plays in ordinary processes of social reproduction. 
      
      
      What is exactly lost by following Giddens in adopting a generous (or diffuse) 
      conception of knowledge? An adequate answer to this question requires some 
      historical perspective (Ringer, 1979). Since the end of the Franco-Prussian 
      War, national educational systems have increasingly defined the standard 
      of 'intelligence' in terms of a conception of 'problem-solving ability' 
      modelled on homework assignments in classical mechanics textbooks and underwritten 
      by a complex of biological determinants. This has allowed for an unprecedented 
      degree of precision in the public recognition of the relative knowledgeability 
      of agents. This was a godsend for a period when traditional status-and class-based 
      principles of stratification were failing 'to keep people in their places'. 
      Thus, one's percentile ranking in an 'aptitude test' now opened and closed 
      possibilities for employment. As the new basis for social order, the image 
      of social agents as little physicists with minds that are the unique product 
      of 'nature' and 'nurture' made the state's investment in -- and identification 
      with -- the research agenda of the natural sciences near irresistible. Once 
      this historical legacy is taken into account, whatever 'equality' one still 
      wishes to impute to the knowledgeability of agents in modern societies is 
      best left to the probability that a given agent will end up in any one of 
      the finely grained percentile categories that, in turn, will shape the agent's 
      role in the processes of social reproduction. In other words, the chances 
      that one will be regarded as knowledgeable may well be equally distributed 
      across race, class, status, gender, and the other classic social markers. 
      
      
      For their part, sociologists of scientific knowledge can hardly be faulted 
      for being anti-or even a-theoretical. The early ethnographies of 'laboratory 
      life' conducted by Michael Mulkay, Karin Knorr-Cetina, Harry Collins, Michael 
      Lynch, and Bruno Latour and Steve Woolgar were no mere exercises in naive 
      empiricism, but rather empirical refutations of normative philosophical 
      accounts of science that had been given a blanket sociological endorsement 
      by Robert Merton and his followers. Indeed, this literature has attracted 
      considerable cross-disciplinary notoriety largely because its conclusions 
      are seen as bearing (skeptically) on a whole host of widely accepted theoretical 
      claims about the natural sciences' special epistemic status. Some sociologists 
      of science have gone so far as to assert that their empirical work should 
      be read as attempts to use science as a site for social theorising by empirical 
      means. 
      
      If today's sociologists of science seem to eschew theory, it is only because 
      what passes as 'theory' in sociology often seems more concerned with legitimating 
      the discipline of sociology than with understanding social phenomena as 
      such. Accordingly, the defining problems of contemporary sociological theory-the 
      need to reconcile such binary oppositions as micro/macro, structure/agency, 
      and positivism/ interpretivism -- are more clearly motivated by looking 
      at the organisation of introductory sociology textbooks than at the organisation 
      of social life itself. Pace Schutz, are there really multiple levels of 
      social reality through which agents regularly pass, or simply multiple schools 
      of sociology which theorists feel compelled to integrate? 
      
      Though harsh, the judgement implied in this question nevertheless captures 
      at least some of the spirit that animates theoretical projects like Giddens'. 
      There is a history behind the dual move of rendering the place of knowledge 
      in society unproblematic and the relevance of natural scientific knowledge 
      to social inquiry negligible. It is connected to why Giddens and fellow-travellers 
      insist on calling their project 'sociological theory' rather than 'philosophy 
      of social science', and why Giddens himself has been at pains to cast his 
      brand of conceptual analysis as an exercise in onolopy rather than epistemology. 
      
      
      The relevant history is exemplified by Bryan Wilson's (1970) Rationality, 
      a book whose contributors took seriously the skeptical challenge that social 
      inquiry cannot adhere to the standard of knowledge supposedly met by the 
      natural sciences (usually classical mechanics), and hence cannot be counted 
      as a proper 'science'. To check the skeptic's arguments, defenders of sociology 
      -- from Ernest Gellner to Peter Winch --invariably relied more on philosophical 
      claims about the sheer possibility of sociology than on extant sociological 
      research. Whatever else one makes of it, Giddens's refusal to defer to philosophy 
      in this manner must be regarded as a great step toward establishing the 
      disciplinary autonomy of sociology. On Giddens' formulation, the real question 
      facing sociological theorists is which account of social reality most adequately 
      grounds the widest range of empirical work that is already being done in 
      sociology. 
      
      However, Giddens and other theorists have paid a price for their bold disciplinary 
      chauvinism. It may be summed up as a lack of a quality: reflexivity. Although 
      reflexivity has been marshalled for many causes over the last thirty years, 
      a core meaning remains, namely, that the social theorist must provide an 
      account of social reality that can explain how the theorist could come to 
      have such an account. Nowadays, the sociology of scientific knowledge is 
      the most productive site for discussions of reflexivity, largely because 
      here sociologists can establish their own epistemic authority only by both 
      subverting and reinforcing the authority of the natural sciences it studies. 
      (Less cryptically: One must apply rigorous empirical methods associated 
      with the natural sciences in order to show that the natural sciences do 
      not in fact abide them.) To the casual reader of the four books under review, 
      this lack of reflexivity is easily obscured by the common characterisation 
      of today's world as itself 'reflexive'. Thus, when Beck, Giddens, and Lash 
      speak of 'reflexive modernization', they mean a world in which the widening 
      and deepening of scientific mechanisms of social control have ironically 
      increased, rather than decreased, the level of risk and uncertainty in the 
      world. 
      
      The basic, and profoundly correct, point here is that the goals of modem 
      scientific nationality can yield perverse consequences once their pursuit 
      extends beyond a mere handful of 'enlightened' elites to include the bulk 
      of humanity. For example, 'universal' access to knowledge of high-energy 
      physics enables a proliferation of nuclear powers, which, in turn, makes 
      the world more dangerous than ever before. However, omitted from such an 
      account is how Beck, Giddens, and Lash could have come to understand reflexive 
      modernisation in these paradoxical terms -- terms which they take to be 
      characteristic of this era. Sociologically speaking, our three theorists 
      are not detached observers of late modern society, but rather are themselves 
      co-products with the risks and uncertainties about which they theorise. 
      What is it, then, about the ongoing relationship between sociological theory 
      and social reality that now leads theorists with ideological interests as 
      disparate as those of Giddens, Gibbons, Beck, and Stehr to embrace an essentially 
      paradoxical yet knowledge-based view of today's world? 
      
      The rest of this essay will address the above question by reviewing three 
      conceptual liabilities incurred by sociological theory in its current epistemologically 
      unreflexive mode. These liabilities may be posed as a series of conflations, 
      each of which turns on the sociologist's failure to locate him or herself 
      within the social reality under study. Consequently, the sociologist is 
      not afforded the conceptual space to consider how his or her position may 
      influence the way social reality is represented: 
      
      (1) A conflation of social theorising and social research methodology. 
      
      (2) A conflation of social theorising and the 'sense-making' activities 
      of social agents. 
      
      (3) A conflation in the definition of 'knowledge' as a discernible object 
      or property in the world and as a residual term for whatever cannot be explained 
      by more traditional sociological categories. 
      
      Conflating Theory and Method 
      
      The first conflation occurs whenever a theorist claims to be characterising 
      the contemporary social world, but is in fact using an aspect of that world 
      as an occasion to explicate the conceptual framework of one or more theorists, 
      often 'classical' ones who lived up to a century ago. Thus, what at first 
      seemed to be an empirical observation that might decisively bear on the 
      validity of alternative theories of late modernity is now revealed to be 
      merely an example of the continuing relevance of theorists from an earlier 
      era. Regular readers of sociological theory will recognise this tendency 
      immediately, though perhaps they may not have noticed the mixed messages 
      it sends about just how sharply the present breaks with the past. For example, 
      the tendency is evident in Stehr's strategy of framing his treatment of 
      today's knowledge societies around a critical exegesis of the futuristic 
      accounts of 'post-industrialism' offered by Daniel Bell and Raymond Aron 
      over a generation ago. However, since Giddens comes closest to an explicit 
      endorsement of sociological theory as a project in its own right, an extended 
      example is perhaps best taken from his work. 
      
      A key feature of Giddens's analysis of reflexive modernisation is a process 
      he dubs 'detraditionalization', whereby behavioural patterns associated 
      with a tradition are continued long after the social contexts that historically 
      gave them meaning have been discontinued. The pedigree for this concept 
      is impressive, but also old. Giddens draws on Halbwachs' analysis of dreams, 
      Freud's of compulsion, and Weber's of the capitalist ethic. Although Giddens 
      sprinkles his discussion with contemporary examples, such as anorexia nervosa, 
      it is difficult not to be left with the impression that 'detraditionalization' 
      is more useful as a second-order concept for what is common to Halbwachs, 
      Freud, and Weber than as a first-order concept for grasping a phenomenon 
      sufficiently recent and distinctive to warrant the neologism 'reflexive 
      modernization'. 
      
      Lest the reader be misled, I do not believe that there is anything wrong 
      with drawing on the ideas of past theorists in order to illuminate the present 
      condition. In fact, it may be especially illuminating to reveal the (understandably) 
      dated and parochial character of such theorists, if only to motivate a fresh 
      look at what is distinctive about our times. I only object to the suggestion, 
      implicit in the practice of the theorists under review, that the best way 
      to understand contemporary social life is by thinking 'through' (or 'against') 
      the corpus of earlier sociological theorists. Ironically, while most of 
      our theorists -- certainly Giddens and Stehr -- would hold up their hermeneutical 
      approach to theory as indicative of an historical sensitivity that is often 
      lacking in contemporary social research, I would argue that, in fact, the 
      opposite is the case -- or, rather, a tradeoff is being made in historical 
      perspective. 
      
      What Giddens and Stehr gain by way of highlighting the historical continuity 
      between the projects of past and present theorists, they lose by neglecting 
      the variety of exigencies that, at various times, have driven sociologists 
      to devote the bulk of their energies to theorising. To put it bluntly, it 
      is not at all clear that Marx, Durkheim, and Weber, or even Bell and Aron, 
      would recognise what Giddens and Stehr are doing as proper extensions of 
      their original theoretical urges. Marx was designing the blueprint for the 
      socialist revolution, Durkheim and Weber were laying disciplinary foundations 
      in rather different national university settings, and Aron and Bell have 
      primarily wanted to influence policymakers. None of these aims is common 
      to Giddens and Stehr. In that case, how is one to socially situate their 
      theorising 
      
      As is all too often the case, the natural sciences have been down this road 
      before. In the seventeenth century, the field of 'natural philosophy' was 
      populated not only by Galileo, Boyle, and Newton, but also by Descartes, 
      Hobbes, and Gassendi. Today, of course, we call the former trio 'scientists' 
      and the latter 'philosophers'. The two groups were distinguished in their 
      own day by whether they believed that anything genuinely new could be discovered 
      by experimental means. Although the people we now call philosophers were 
      generally sympathetic to the emerging interest in experiment, they nevertheless 
      held that, at least in principle, it was possible to reach the same conclusions 
      by reasoning from first principles or by fathoming the full meaning of such 
      ancients as Aristotle, Lucretius, or Pythagoras. Indeed, the philosophers 
      understood the turn from the liberal to the manual arts that characterised 
      experimentation to indicate either that one had not fully clarified the 
      logic of one's own inquiry or that one primarily wanted to appeal to audiences 
      who did not possess the preferred dialectical and hermeneutical skills. 
      
      
      Today's sociological theorists uncomfortably resemble these seventeenth 
      century philosophers. Social phenomena do not seem worthy of sustained discussion 
      unless other theorists can be presented as having already found the phenomena 
      worthy of discussion. Ideally, social theorising preempts, rather than prepares, 
      empirical research -- at least among the intellectually acute. (This seems 
      to be Giddens' attitude toward sociologists empirically investing the difference 
      between the natural and social sciences.) In cases where theorists offer 
      conflicting testimony about a given social phenomenon, one concludes that 
      the phenomenon is 'deep', not that someone is wrong. (This captures not 
      only Stehr's practice but also the more policy-oriented theorising of Gibbons 
      et al., as will be noted below.) It would be worthwhile for sociological 
      theorists to consult Shapin & Schaffer's (1985) classic social history 
      of seventeenth century natural philosophy to catch a glimpse of what fate 
      may lie in store for them. 
      
      Conflating Theorising and Sense-Making 
      
      There are many rhetorical advantages to saying that non-sociologists are 
      really little sociologists in disguise. One is that it presumably pays the 
      non-sociologists a compliment, at least according to the sociologist's own 
      set of values. Non-sociologists appear as sophisticated reasoners, ever 
      sensitive to the social markers in their environments, and always knowing 
      much more than they can tell (i.e., their silences are pregnant never empty). 
      Of course, not only does such an image flatter the non-sociologist, but 
      it also provides a 'deep' object of inquiry for sociologists to pursue. 
      One is reminded of priests who need to impute souls to people in order to 
      have something to minister. Here a cynic might wonder whether the sociologist 
      is engaging in anything more than a form of methodological ventriloquism 
      by claiming that social agents are 'already' theorising by the time the 
      sociologist arrives on the scene. Is the 'etic' is already inscribed in 
      the 'emic', the 'third-person' in the 'first-person' perspective? 
      
      Once again taking Giddens as our culprit, we can identify two problems with 
      this way of relating the sociologist to fellow social agents. The first 
      problem is creeping reflexivity. Even granting some sort of analogy between 
      the sense-making of social agents and the theorising of sociologists, the 
      two activities clearly perform quite different, if not opposed, social functions. 
      Indeed, if sociological theorising were truly like ordinary sense-making, 
      then Giddens would be forced to consider the kind of world he is helping 
      to construct by theorising in the way he does. Whereas social agents give 
      sense-making accounts in order to achieve closure to multiply meaningful 
      situations, unreflexive sociological theorists like Giddens hover detachedly 
      above the social realities they theorise about. In this respect, sociological 
      theorists could learn something from their corresponding lay theorists. 
      
      
      The second problem with treating both sociologists and non-sociologists 
      as theorists is that it gives the impression that social theorising is essential 
      for the conduct of social life, from which one may then conclude that lay 
      agents are likely to benefit by adopting the sociologist's more systematic 
      form of theorising. This is a problem because it misdiagnoses whatever ability 
      sociology may have to facilitate social life, which has less to do with 
      a conceptual point about the proto-sociology of social agents than with 
      the simple fact that sociology has been integral to the mechanisms of social 
      control for most of its history. 
      
      In that case, the allusion to 'methodological ventriloquism' may have put 
      an earlier point too mildly. Rather, 'applied' sociologists have been actively 
      involved in designing the industrial, urban, educational, and administrative 
      regimes that their more theoretical cousins are inclined to see as happy 
      coincidences between the ways in which theorists and lay people think about 
      the social world. 
      
      Admittedly, the applied side can never be completely repressed, even amidst 
      the abstractions of sociological theory. Giddens' own favoured dead metaphor, 
      'social reproduction', recalls the interests of the early German and French 
      sociologists in mass education as the means for reproducing the 'social 
      organism' whose functions were defined by the nation state. Given all of 
      the above, it is most ironic that when Giddens does manage to discuss the 
      possible epistemic effects of encounters between sociologists and non-sociologists 
      (the so-called 'double hermeneutic'), he is only concerned with sociologists 
      being unable to protect the integrity of their research, not with social 
      agents being unable to protect the integrity of their lives. 
      
      Conflating Knowledge and Ignorance 
      
      Of the authors under review, Stehr and Gibbons et al., are the most convinced 
      that we live in a 'knowledge society' that is not just the latest phase 
      of 'industrial' or 'modern' society, but the dawn of a new age in which 
      scientific and technical knowledge will acquire unprecedented significance 
      as an instrument of power and a factor of production. What is most striking 
      about this bit of theorising is not the apocalyptic tone with which it is 
      delivered, but the paradoxical arguments that are mobilised in its support 
      -- and especially the way these arguments are simply articulated without 
      any expressed need for resolution. 
      
      A natural starting point is to ask what it is about knowledge in our own 
      time that makes it so uniquely significant. Unfortunately, the answer becomes 
      mysterious very quickly because knowledge seems to share a key property 
      with the old chemical substance, phlogiston: Its contribution to a social 
      process or outcome is defined as whatever is left after all the other known 
      factors have been removed. Thus, Stehr offers at least three definitions 
      of knowledge in this vein. According to one, (technical) knowledge is what 
      accounts for the rise in economic output in cases where labour and capital 
      inputs have remained constant over time. According to a second, (symbolic) 
      knowledge is what accounts for the value of goods that are not directly 
      tied to material supply or demand. According to a third, (pragmatic) knowledge 
      is, ceteris paribus, what enhances one's capacity for action. 
      
      Although Stehr periodically complains about the failure of previous theorists 
      to define knowledge adequately, his own solution is simply to enumerate 
      negative definitions of seemingly different phenomena (note the words in 
      parentheses above) and then gather them as evidence for the promethean character 
      of knowledge in today's world. Absent a clear sense of how these three definitions 
      are interrelated, an uncharitable reader can be left with the idea that 
      Stehr has over-interpreted the linguistic fact that 'knowledge' is made 
      to do a lot of possibly too much -- semantic work in contemporary English 
      usage. This impression is reinforced by further claims about knowledge being 
      both a private and public good, a principle of social change and social 
      order, a source of increased oppression as well as of diminished irrationality. 
      
      
      Topping off this budget of paradoxes is the idea that knowledge has a high 
      fixed cost but a low variable cost (i.e., everyone can benefit from an invention 
      or discovery without repeating the originator's efforts). One might think 
      that this proliferation of knowledgeable people and products would be self-defeating 
      beyond a certain point -- that one's relative capacity for action, say, 
      would be diminished by everyone easily acquiring the same absolute capacity. 
      Moreover, the 'intermediation' of all social functions with 'knowledge-workers' 
      might just as easily be interpreted as a sign of social breakdown as of 
      social differentiation, were we to focus on the historical increase in the 
      number of people and discourses needed for petting the same job done. Yet, 
      interestingly, Stehr's proclivity for paradoxes does not include entertaining 
      the possibility that the knowledge society might mark an overall repression 
      from industrial society. 
      
      An easy, and perhaps not entirely inaccurate, explanation for Stehr's optimism 
      about a phenomenon with such barely coherent theoretical contours is that 
      whatever else 'the knowledge society' might turn out to be, it seems to 
      require the additional training and employment of academically qualified 
      people. In a world that currently displays the exact opposite tendency, 
      hope must surely spring eternal. A key bit of wishful thinking -- one in 
      which Gibbons et al. indulge even more than Stehr -- is that 'tacit' human 
      knowledge cannot be superseded by the 'proprietary' forms of knowledge contained 
      in information technologies. Such thinking is wishful in that it supposes 
      that post-industrial society will not catch on to the secret of industrial 
      society's success, namely, to replace at lower cost whatever one cannot 
      completely reproduce. If this rule-of-thumb worked for the automation of 
      human labour, why shouldn't it work for the automation of human intelligence? 
      Because The New Production of Knowledge was written as a primer in 
      theory for policymakers, this optimism is even more obtrusive. Gibbons et 
      al. expend so much effort on showing how 'Mode 2' knowledge production marks 
      a break from the discipline-based, normal-scientific 'Mode 1' that they 
      are hard-pressed to admit that Mode 1 is itself little more than an ideal 
      type, one whose likelihood of being superseded is only matched by its unlikelihood 
      of ever having existed. For while it is true that philosophers of science 
      from the positivists to Kuhn have generally portrayed the natural sciences 
      as self-contained epistemic communities on the model of Mode 1, the sciences 
      have traditionally encountered resistance for their tendency to destabilise 
      the arts-based power structures of the universities-mainly by forming makeshift 
      alliances with the state and industry, often in foreign countries. Indeed, 
      such fecund interdisciplinary research programmes as molecular biology and 
      operations research have resulted from these alliances. But these developments 
      all took place long before Mode 2 is said to have emerged. What, then, is 
      new about Mode 2? 
      
      Strangely enough, the answer may lie in what Gibbons et al. fail to acknowledge, 
      namely, that Mode 2 is less the permeation of industrial society by knowledge-based 
      values and more the permeation of knowledge-based communities by industrial 
      values. Once again, it becomes important to appreciate the exigencies that 
      have driven sociological theory. When our authors extol Mode 2's 'social 
      distribution of knowledge' and the natural flow of knowledge workers to 
      positions of comparative epistemic advantage, one mustn't forget that this 
      image was originally offered by Alfred Schutz as a way of showing the natural 
      affinity between the epistemology of Austrian economics and the phenomenology 
      of everyday life (Prendergast, 1986). If knowledge production promises to 
      be more 'fluid' and 'dynamic' than it has been in the past, that is only 
      because a final important institutional barrier to the spread of capitalism 
      -- the value structure implicit in academic forms of knowledge -- is now 
      in the process of being dismantled. And, presumably, if the theorist can't 
      beat the trend, he or she might as well join it. In terms of Max Weber's 
      typology of religious attitudes toward the world, we might therefore ask: 
      Is there anything more to contemporary sociological theorising than an elaborate 
      process of 'world-adjustment'? References 
      
      FULLER, S. 1993. Philosophy, Rhetoric and the End of Knowledge: The Coming 
      of Science and Technology Studies. Madison: University of Wisconsin 
      Press. 
      
      PRENDERGAST, C. 1986. 'Alfred Schutz and the Austrian School of Economics'. 
      American Journal of Sociology 92:1-26. 
      
      RINGER, F. 1979. Education and Society in Modern Europe. Bloomington: 
      Indiana University Press. 
      
      SHAPIN, S. and SCHAFFER, S. 1985. Leviathan and the Air-Pump. Princeton: 
      Princeton University Press. 
      
      WILSON, B. (ed.) 1970. Rationality. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
      
      
      STEVE FULLER is Professor of Sociology at the University of Durham. 
      
      
      Note 
      
      1. Throughout this essay I use 'sociological theory' 
      in a relatively narrow sense and 'sociology of scientific knowledge' in 
      a relatively broad one. Thus, 'sociological theory' covers the abstract 
      and synthetic work largely done by and for theorists, but does not include 
      the construction of formal systems of hypotheses the main purpose of which 
      is to guide empirical research. On the other hand, by 'sociology of scientific 
      knowledge', I mean to go beyond the original ethnographic work that attempted 
      to account for scientific knowledge production in purely sociological terms 
      without having recourse to special appeals to 'reason', 'truth', or 'objectivity'. 
      I also mean to include general normative lessons one may draw from this 
      body of work, especially as regards the permeability of disciplinary boundaries 
      -- a theme that has figured prominently in my own work in 'social epistemology' 
      (Fuller, 1993). 
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