TOWARDS A RADICAL SCIENCE.pdf

Media

extracted text
-S e CjSaA.

*

Dot Griffiths, John Irvint and Ian Milts

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical
Science

Where do we go from here?

Preceding chapters in this book have examined the historical
development of statistical practices, the philosophy of quantifica­
tion, the nature and role of official statistics. Taken together they
constitute a cogent critique of the role of statistics in our society.
This critique is much more than an academic exercise: it goes
beyond posing issues of theory, to pose important implications for
action. Critical social theory alone is insufficient: a critical practice
is also necessary to challenge and change the practices with which
we have taken issue. As Marx might have said: ‘the statisticians
have only quantified the world; what counts is our success in
changing it’.
Critical statistical practice cannot be developed by pen, paper
and calculator alone. While we should not understate the import­
ance of theoretical work, critical practice is needed to sharpen, test,
deepen and extend its analysis. Much of the form of such a practice
can only be created through actually using statistics in political
struggle. Herewe can leam some useful lessons from the applica­
tions of statistics which have already been made in radical politics—
as well as from the parallel experiences of scientists and tech­
nologists working in other fields of radical science.
In this chapter we attempt to formulate some guidelines for
radical statistical practice. We shall first look al the development of
critical responses to science and technology (S and T), for we can
learn much from the successes and shortcomings of these responses
that is relevant to the attempt to develop a radical statistics. We
shall argue that radical approaches to S and T need to be related to
the struggle for a structural transformation of society and to an
understanding of how S and T are constituted within the existing
structure of society. The late of a radical statistics is intimately
bound up with the development and use of forms of analysis
effective for this struggle and the critical understanding that should

340

Demystifying Social Statistics

accompany it. We shall then consider what elements are necessary
for the theory and practice of radical statistics in capitalist society.1
1.

Critical approaches to science and technology

a. Anti-science, anti-technology
An understandable first reaction to the problems people
experience with statistics is to seek to discard them altogether.
Statistical approaches may have limited use in the physical and
biological sciences, it is argued, but their use in social analysis is
anathema: quantification reifies social processes, inevitably turns
people into objects to be manipulated and controlled, and is thus
contrary to basic human values. This, anti-statistics approach is
perhaps most fully developed by ‘humanistic’ psychologists and
‘interpretative’ sociologists, but it is also a fairly common gut
response among a wider public reacting against being 'reduced to
numbers’ in official statistics and social science (see Irvine and
j Miles, section 1, this volume).
This reaction to statisticssharesmuch with a broader response
to some of the social problems of contemporary science and
technology, which achieved clearest expression in the anti-S and T
approach promoted extensively in the late 1960s. This was a time of
general questioning of the dominant values and cultural institutions
of Western society, and for many young people this took the form of
attempting to build, or declare the existence of, a ‘counter-culture’.
(See, for example, the work of Musgrove, 1974; Nuttall, 1970; and
Roszak, 1968. For critical commentary, see Hall and Jefferson,
1976; and Silber, 1970). Based largely on middle-class youth, the
counter-culture sought to establish an ‘alternative society’ of
communes, digger shops, psychedelia and rock music. The focus
was largely upon individuals and ideas: Charles Reich, for example,
argued that a new consciousness—which he termed consciousness
III—was in the making (Reich, 1970; for assessments of Reich, see
Nobile, 1971). Leary, the ‘high’ priest ofhippiedom, concentrated
on the use of psychedelic drugs to create such a consciousness:
according to him, each individual needs to
realise that he (sic) is not a game-playing robot put on this planet to
be given a Social Security number and to be spun on the assembly
line of school, college, career, insurance, funeral, goodbye. (Leary,
1970, p. 131).

Particular criticism was directed by the ‘counter-cultur^at
technology, or at least to what were seen as its archetypically
Western versions. Modem technology was itself seen as directly

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 341
responsible for the uglier products of contemporary capitalism—
the ravages of the Vietnam War, contemporary patterns of illness
and disease, environmental pollution, impoverished personal rela­
tionships, and a host ofother modem horrors (or modem versions of
ancient horrors). Science, on the other hand, was attacked more for
its approach than its products. The ‘counter-culture’ regarded the
scientific approach as inherently bearing an oppressive mode of
consciousness. Science was seen as leading on directly to the
perception and treatment of nature and human beings alike as mere
mechanical objects to be toyed with at the whim of unfeeling
scientists. Critical commentary on science abounded, and Bacon’s
dictum of ‘Knowledge is Power’ was quoted ironically. The root of
modem horrors was identified, not as an oppressive mode of
production but as an oppressive organisation of knowledge. From
‘Knowledge is Power’ the ‘counter-culture’ drew the conclusion
‘Science is Oppression'.
Commentators such as Theodore Roszak (1968, and 1973)
provided the intellectual foundations for this critique. (The work of
Marcuse (1964, 1969) was also often mined—and frequently
underestimated—in this context). Roszak argued that the amoral
and manipulative scientific consciousness has become the dominant
mode of understanding in advanced industrial societies. It under­
values or excludes experience and knowledge resistant to scientific
analysis, treating them as unreal or unacceptable. The ‘counter­
culture’ rejected this as an immensely restrictive vision of human
social development and of what counts as knowledge. Some of the
vitality needed restoring to our arid life: a liberated consciousness
should overthrow scientific rationality, opening up ‘the province of
the dream, the myth, the visionary rapture, the sacramental sense of
reality, the transcendent symbol’ (Roszak, 1973, p. 379). The
remedy, it seemed, lay in rejecting the whole methodological basis
of modem science. Statistics, moreover, was taken to be the most
extreme manifestation of the anti-human, repressive tendencies of
the scientific approach. For Roszak, ‘this doctrinaire mathematisation of person and society, this statistical manipulation of human
beings as if they were so many atomic particles’ (Roszak, 1973, p.
33) was the quintessence of technocratic rationality.
The rejection of Western science gave a new prominence to
subjectivism, mysticism, occultism and parascience. In many cases
the ‘destruction’ of an overripe ego, or the undermining of an
established outlook, left the individual with little more than a
cynical disdain for the possibility of change, or ready for recruit­
ment by anyone from Charles Manson to Guru Maharaji. While

340

Demystifying Social Statistics

accompany it. We shall then consider what elements are necessary
for the theory and practice of radical statistics in capitalist society.1
I. Critical approaches to science and technology

a. Anti-science, anti-technology
An understandable first reaction to the problems people
experience with statistics is to seek to discard them altogether.
Statistical approaches may have limited use in the physical and
biological sciences, it is argued, but their use in social analysis is
anathema: quantification reifies social processes, inevitably turns
people into objects to be manipulated and controlled, and is thus
contrary to basic human values. This, anti-statistics approach is
perhaps most fully developed by ‘humanistic’ psychologists and
‘interpretative’ sociologists, but it is also a fairly common gut
response among a wider public reacting against being ‘reduced to
numbers’ in official statistics and social science (see Irvine and
Miles, section 1, this volume).
This reaction to statistics shares much with a broader response
to some of the social problems of contemporary science and
technology, which achieved clearest expression in the anti-S and T
approach promoted extensively in the late 1960s. This was a time of
general questioning of the dominant values and cultural institutions
ofWestem society, and for many young people this took the form of
attempting to build, or declare the existence of, a ‘counter-culture’.
(See, for example, the work of Musgrove, 1974; Nuttall, 1970; and
Roszak, 1968. For critical commentary, see Hall and Jefferson,
1976; and Silber, 1970). Based largely on middle-class youth, the
counter-culture sought to establish an ‘alternative society’ of
communes, digger shops, psychedelia and rock music. The focus
was largely upon individuals and ideas: Charles Reich, for example,
argued that a new consciousness—which he termed consciousness
Ill—was in the making (Reich, 1970; for assessments ofReich, see
Nobile, 1971). Leary, the‘high’ priest of hippiedom, concentrated
on the use of psychedelic drugs to create such a consciousness:
according to him, each individual needs to
realise that he (sic) is not a game-playing robot put on this planet to
be given a Social Security number and to be spun on the assembly
line of school, college, career, insurance, funeral, goodbye. (Leary,

1970, p. 131).

Particular criticism was directed by the ‘counter-cultur$_at
technology, or at least to what were seen as its archetypically
Western versions. Modem technology was itself seen as directly

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 341

responsible for the uglier products of contemporary capitalism—
the ravages of the Vietnam War, contemporary patterns of illness
and disease, environmental pollution, impoverished personal rela­
tionships, and a host ofother modem horrors (or modem versions of
ancient horrors). Science, on the other hand, was attacked more for
its approach than its products. The ‘counter-culture’ regarded the
scientific approach as inherently bearing an oppressive mode of
consciousness. Science was seen as leading on directly to the
perception and treatment of nature and human beings alike as mere
mechanical objects to be toyed with at the whim of unfeeling
scientists. Critical commentary on science abounded, and Bacon’s
dictum of ‘Knowledge is Power’ was quoted ironically. The root of
modem horrors was identified, not as an oppressive mode of
production but as an oppressive organisation of knowledge. From
‘Knowledge is Power’ the ‘counter-culture’ drew the conclusion
‘Science is Oppression’.
Commentators such as Theodore Roszak (1968, and 1973)
provided the intellectual foundations for this critique. (The work of
Marcuse (1964, 1969) was also often mined—and frequently
underestimated—in this context). Roszak argued that the amoral
and manipulative scientific consciousness has become the dominant
mode of understanding in advanced industrial societies. It under­
values or excludes experience and knowledge resistant to scientific
analysis, treating them as unreal or unacceptable. The ‘counter­
culture’ rejected this as an immensely restrictive vision of human
social development and of what counts as knowledge. Some of the
vitality needed restoring to our arid life: a liberated consciousness
should overthrow scientific rationality, opening up ‘the province of
the dream, the myth, the visionary rapture, the sacramental sense of
reality, the transcendent symbol’ (Roszak, 1973, p. 379). The
remedy, it seemed, lay in rejecting the whole methodological basis
of modem science. Statistics, moreover, was taken to be the most
extreme manifestation of the anti-human, repressive tendencies of
the scientific approach. For Roszak, ‘this doctrinaire mathematisation of person and society, this statistical manipulation of human
beings as if they were so many atomic particles’ (Roszak, 1973, p.
33) was the quintessence of technocratic rationality.
The rejection of Western science gave a new prominence to
subjectivism, mysticism, occultism and parascience. In many cases
the ‘destruction’ of an overripe ego, or the undermining of an
r? established outlook, left the individual with little more than a
b. . cynical disdain for the possibility of change, or ready for recruitment by anyone from Charles Manson to Guru Maharaji. While
S- ■

342

Demystifying Social Slat islies

the ‘counter culture’ had raised awareness of alternative ways of
life, it could do little to enable the mass of people to create and
choose between such alternatives. It achieved no structural change
in the society whose rationality it sought to question—the flam­
boyance of hippie lifestyles may even have reinforced the belief that
' every person in modem capitalist society is given a free choice as to
bow to organise their lives. Nor was it ever made exactly clear to the
non-hip population how it could be that a rejection of Western S
and T could be reconciled with extensive use of stereo-systems, light
shows and credit cards.
The anti-S and T perspectives, like other innovations of the
‘counter-culture’, had important effects. The ‘counter-culture’
waned as a recognisable movement during the 1970s, but many of
its attitudes, like the antipathy to statistics, are widely reproduced.
Despite the inheritance the counter-culture has left us with in
the continuing tradition of anti-S and T2, it has long lost its
momentum—although ageing hippies, and occasional new re­
cruits, may still be seen travelling to and from cults and gurus in
search of cosmic consciousnss. Many of its adherents have returned
to ‘hip’ (or not so ‘hip’) variations of orthodox careers. Some are still
trying to recover from the collapse of their ideals. Others have
sought new ways to advance these ideals.
The failures and defeats of many of its social experiments, and
. the rapid transformation of much of its style and ingenuity into
I commercial wares (many fashions were derived from the hippie
lifestyle), led many of the counter-culture’s most energetic pro­
ponents to a profound questioning of the viability, within techno­
logically advanced societies, of strategies for social change which
[ took as their starting point the transformation of individual
■ consciousness. Often their conclusion was that reality cannot be
I magically changed just by thinking about it in new ways, and they
I have sought to realise their ideals through other social movements.
I The most important of these for the present discussion was the
I | alternative technology (AT) movement.

b. Alternative science and technology

As is evident from the contributors, content and audience of
magazines like Undercurrents and the Journal ofthe.Mew Alchemists, the
movement to develop alternative S and T has drawn upon members
of the ‘counter-culture’ who have recognised the futility of a total
rejection of S and T, as well as other people more concerned with
specific problems they see to be linked with modem S and T—like"
ill-health, environmental pollution and resource depletion. Instead

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 343

of focusing only on changing consciousness and experience, the task
here has been presented as one of developing
a new science and a new technology (which should). . . operate on
low amounts of energy; not irreversibly disperse non-renewable
resources; use local and easily accessible materials; recycle materials
locally; not produce waste products at a greater rate than they could
be absorbed by the natural cycling processes; not liberate novel
chemical compounds in more than trace amounts; fit in with existing
culture patterns; satisfy those who operate it; lend itself to control by
those who operate it; have safeguards against misuse. (Harper,
1973).

The diversity of the groups considering themselves to be part
of what is commonly referred to as the AT movement is reflected in
the varied forms taken by AT. These range from the search for
occult and paranormal phenomena (c.g. flying saucers and extra­
sensory perception) to the exploration of novel or non-Wcstcm
scientific systems (e.g. the medical alternatives of naturopathy and
acupuncture or the alternative psychology of group therapies and
‘personal growth’). At the extremes, these approaches are often
oriented to suprasocial cosmic forces or to the asocial ‘essence’ of
■ individuals; in general they tend to ofler no social programme other
than one of gradual conversion and personal commitment. Never­
theless, the more environmentally-oriented groupings, and particu­
larly those concerned with the hardware of AT, have often been
explicit in their recognition of the need for broad social changes,
focusing on the threat of major environmental crises if this does not
take place.
In general the AT movement has taken a ‘technological
determinist’ vicw of sociaLchange. In other words, it is believed that
in S and T lie the motor forces of society, the roots of modem social
problems and the germs of change. S and T arc largely treated in
isolation from their social determinants. It is believed that they can
be transformed simply by convincing people of the social, environ­
mental and health hazards of such high technologies as supersonic
aircraft, nuclear reactors, factory farms and automated production
lines, and by providing them with alternatives. S and T must be
taken to the people; they must be small-scale and controlled by the
individual or community. With the diffusion and widespread
acceptance of AT, small communities would be able to grow their
own food, and produce ample energy, shelter and everyday
necessities (c.g. Bookchin, 1970). A changed S and T would in turn
change production patterns, consumption patterns and lifestyles: in
place of bureaucratised large-scale society with all its social

342

Demystifying Social Statistics

the ‘counter culture’ had raised awareness of alternative ways of
life, it could do little to enable the mass of people to create and
choose between such alternatives. It achieved no structural change
i in the society whose rationality it sought to question—the Ham| boyancc of hippie lifestyles may even have reinforced the belief that
every person in modem capitalist society is given a free choice as to
how to organise their lives. Nor was it ever made exactly clear to the
non-hip population how it could be that a rejection of Western S
and T could be reconciled with extensive use of stereo-systems, light
shows and credit cards.
The anti-S and T perspectives, like other innovations of the
‘counter-culture’, had important effects. The ‘counter-culture’
waned as a recognisable movement during the 1970s, but many of
its attitudes, like the antipathy to statistics, are widely reproduced.
Despite the inheritance the counter-culture has left us with in
the continuing tradition of anti-S and T2, it has long lost its
momentum—although ageing hippies, and occasional new re­
cruits, may still be seen travelling to and from cults and gurus in
search of cosmic consciousrtss. Many of its adherents have returned
to ‘hip’ (or not so ‘hip’) variations oforthodox careers. Some are still
trying to recover from the collapse of their ideals. Others have
sought new ways to advance these ideals.
The failuresand defeats ofmany of its social experiments, and
. the rapid transformation of much of its style and ingenuity into
' commercial wares (many fashions were derived from the hippie
i I lifestyle), led many of the counter-culture’s most energetic pro­
ponents to a profound questioning of the viability, within techno1
logically advanced societies, of strategies for social change which
'
took as their starting point the transformation of individual
I consciousness. Often their conclusion was that reality cannot be
, magically changed just by thinking about it in new ways, and they
' I have sought to realise their ideals through other social movements.
I I The most important of these for the present discussion was the
I | alternative technology (AT) movement

b. Alternative science and technology
As is evident from the contributors, content and audience of
magazines like Undercurrents and the Journal ofthe New Alchemists, the
movement to develop alternative S and T has drawn upon members
of the ‘counter-culture’ who have recognised the futility of a total
rejection of S and T, as well as other people more concerned with
specific problems they see to be linked with modem S and T—like"
ill-health, environmental pollution and resource depletion. Instead

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 343
of focusing only on changing consciousness and experience, the task
here has been presented as one of developing
a new science and a new technology (which should) . . . operate on
low amounts of energy; not irreversibly disperse non-renewable
resources; use local and easily accessible materials; recycle materials
locally; not produce waste products at a greater rate than they could
be absorbed by the natural cycling processes; not liberate novel
chemical compounds in more than trace amounts; fit in with existing
culture patterns; satisfy those who operate it; lend itself to control by
those who operate it; have safeguards against misuse. (Harper,
1973).

The diversity of the groups considering themselves to be part
of what is commonly referred to as the AT movement is reflected in
the varied forms taken by AT. These range from the search for
occult and paranormal phenomena (e.g. flying saucers and extra­
sensory perception) to the exploration of novel or non-Westem
scientific systems (e.g. the medical alternatives of naturopathy and
acupuncture or the alternative psychology of group therapies and
‘personal growth’). At the extremes, these approaches are often
oriented to suprasocial cosmic forces or to the asocial ‘essence’ of
■ individuals; in general they tend to offer no social programme other
than one of gradual conversion and personal commitment. Never­
theless, the more environmentally-oriented groupings, and particu­
larly those concerned with the hardware of AT, have often been
explicit in their recognition of the need for broad social changes,
focusing on the threat of major environmental crises if this does not
take place.
In general the AT movement has taken a ‘technological
determinist’ view'of social.change. In other words, it is believed that
in S and T lie the motor forces of society, the roots of modem social
problems and the germs of change. S and T are largely treated in
isolation from their social determinants. It is believed that they can
be transformed simply by convincing people of the social, environ­
mental and health hazards of such high technologies as supersonic
aircraft, nuclear reactors, factory farms and automated production
lines, and by providing them with alternatives. S and T must be
taken to the people; they must be small-scale and controlled by the
individual or community. With the diffusion and widespread
acceptance of AT, small communities would be able to grow their
own food, and produce ample energy, shelter and everyday
necessities (e.g. Bookchin, 1970). A changed S and T would in turn
change production patterns, consumption patterns and lifestyles: in
place of bureaucratised large-scale society with all its social

344

Demystifying Social Slalislia

problems would be a simple life-style in harmony with nature. S and
T, then, are seen as capable of being changed independently of
other social conditions; the way to achieve an ccologically-sound
world is through technical rather than social change.
Like the ‘counter-culture’, the AT movement has had some
effects, especially in terms of introducing important issues into
public debate. Some of the technological alternatives it has
promoted—for example, solar energy devices—have proved suffi­
ciently profitable to be incorporated into the mass market, although
many others remain curiosities or toys for the rich. The associated
political alternatives which have gone beyond mere information
campaigns have largely centred around the ‘Ecology’ parties of
several Western European countries, but these are rarely tied to any
strategies of mass involvement (although they have made electoral
gains which in some cases have alarmed traditional parties). More
often, their inward-looking and anti-growth philosophies have
meant that their success has been based upon alliances with
unlikely, and often reactionary forces—particularlynationalcapital
against transnational interests.
Thus, although the AT movement has produced valuable
assessments of the deleterious consequences of many modem
technologies, these have rarely been carried through to an examina­
tion of their social roots (see Dickson, 1974, and Elliot and Elliot,
1976, for a more general, while sympathetic, critique of AT
strategics). This is despite the links between some membersofthe AT
movement and workers’ struggles concerning the processes and
results of capitalist production (e.g. the Lucas Aerospace workers'
attempts to develop socially useful products, Elliott, et. al., 1977),
and despite attempts to develop the concept of‘radical technology’
(Boyle and Harper, 1976). Lackingan analysisofthe social relations
underlying contemporary systems of production and consumption,
the AT movement has mainly been restricted to exhorting politi­
cians, industrialists and the public to change their ways, coupled
with threats (that often appear to be irresponsibly alarmist) about the
likely consequences of failing to do so.
The limited appeal of, and response to, these formulae has led
many AT proponents to decide tha t theirown energies would best be
spent improving their own lives and/or setting examples to others.
They have, for example, attempted to develop environmentallysound subsistence life-styles in farms, to find ways of conserving
urban resources by recycling, and so on. But while this has involved
changing their own patterns of consumption, the patterns of
production they have retreated from remain dominant—in fact,

Social Statistics: Touxrrds a Radical Science 345
they often depend upon them for scrap engines and copper wire for
windmills, etc. Proponents ofAThave thus often become resigned to
creating only limited individual change; and their practical innova­
tions have frequently been little more than free research and
development for progressive firms.
These are major problems for the AT movement, but it would
be both churlish and shortsighted to ignore its positive contributions
to date, some of which have potential foe considerable further
development. First, as already pointed out, the AT movement has
introduced new questions about S and T into public debate. In the
case of nuclear power, in particular, both the direction and use of a
major new technology arc being questioned, bringing into play
arguments covering such diverse issues as future requirements for
energy (and thus the struggle over the provision ofpublic, as opposed
to reliance on private, transport) and the security of toxic
radioactive material (thus illuminating the steady development of
paramilitary police and security forces). Opposition to some forms
of nuclear power has already been a focus for radical political
initiatives, which raises the possibility of a more sustained conflict
between elements of the AT movement and state power. Second, it
would be incorrect to see all AT activities as relying on individual
change or parliamentary pressure. The nuclear power issue has
provoked mass demonstrations in some countries—and has led on
occasions to violence and counter-violence. A different type of
initiative has been displayed in the use of‘Green Bans’, pioneered
by Australian trades unions and now extended to other countries.
‘Green Bans’ entail a refusal by trades unionists, particularly in the
construction industry, to work on socially or environmentally
damaging projects? The orientation of the campaigns of groups like
the Lucas Aerospace workers around the right to socially useful work
represents a more affirmative version of this strategy. Third, it is
clear that contact with the AT movement has been a valuable
stimulus to the efforts of radical scientists to develop an adequate
critical approach to S and T (see, for example, Dickson, 1974;
Elliott and Elliott, 1976). By raising awareness that the forms of
S and T with which we are most familiar are not the only conceiv■able options for future society, the AT movement has contributed to
our understanding of the social basis of S and T and of possible
dimensions of social transformation.'
. There are good grounds, then, for believing that the potential
b£the AT movement is not exhausted. An AT-type approach to
statistics might well perform useful functions, if in a more limited
sphere. But it.-would also have to contend with the problems

346

Demystijfring Social Statistics

engendered by any approach which tends to treat an area of science
as if its theories and techniques can simply be replaced by
alternatives, independent of any struggle to change the social
structures which underpin the dominant forms and roles of S and
T. Furthermore, the view of statistics as the hard core of positivistic
science (see section 2, this volume), or as the ultimate in reifica­
tion and dehumanisation, is likely to discourage any substantial
attempt to promote an ‘alternative statistics’ in such terms.
Nevertheless, an ‘alternative statistics’ of sorts does exist, in
the field of mathematical statistics rather than that of data
production. This is Bayesian statistics, which has existed practically
as an underground tradition for some two centuries. Some statis­
ticians and social scientists have argued that this is an appropriate
statistics for radicals to use, for it explicitly recognises that statistics
has assumptions, and attempts to integrate these into the analysis
(see, for example, Poirier, 1977, who also argues that the more
familiar non-parametric statistics are more appropriate for radicals
than conventional approaches). Certainly the Bayesian approach
should be brought to the attention ofcritical social scientists, both as
a possible tool for analysis and as a means of raising consciousness
concerning the assumptions that are built into existing statistical
practices. But as Atkins and Jarrett (this volume) point out, this
approach is in itself no panacea. While it allows ‘subjective’
judgements to enter into the use of mathematical statistics, this may
be used to justify relativism or a misguided search for consensus,
without bringing into question the social sources of these judge­
ments. Much interest in the Bayesian technique has actually
stemmed from managers and technocrats seeking to incorporate
their own presuppositions more directly into decision-making
procedures. (For a general outline of Bayesian statistics for social
scientists, see Phillips, 1973.)
There are also examples of AT-type strategics in data
production in social research—particularly among psychologists,
whose discipline is tied more firmly to quantitative methods than is
sociology (in the UK at least). Humanistic psychologists, and
clinical and social workers, have paid much attention to the use of
'personal construct’ techniques (see Bannister and Fransella, 1971;
Bannister and Mair, 1968, for overviews). The supposed advant­
ages of these techniques is that, unlike conventional psychological
tests, they allow the people whose perceptions are being researched
to provide their own categories rather than forcing them tqjnake
judgements in terms of supplied categories. These techniques may
facilitate communication in one-to-one situations, although there is

Social Statistics: Toward] a Radical Science 347

a tendency for psychological researchers to apply them merely as
more efficient means ofextracting information from their ‘subjects’,
so that the latter are simply presented with a more complicated
version of the usual questionnaire.
Furthermore, while personal construct methods can, as their
proponents argue, be used to move psychological research some
way towards a more interactive project which avoids a crude
categorisation of individuals into pre-ordained types, these methods
may themselves be recuperated into the mainstream psychological
programme. Thus a great deal of effort has been put into developing
ways of processing the data produced by personal construct
methods (by factor analysis, for example) so as to be able to grade
the individuals involved along supposed personality dimensions
such as ‘cognitive complexity’). Social psychology has been remark­
ably quick to assimilate what at first appeared to be a subversive
approach, and to divorce personal construct methods from the
theory within which they were first developed. While the approach
itself may have much to offer researchers and practitioners who
recognise that human beings take a more constructive part in creat­
ing the social world than do most psychologists, the techniques it
offers can, in and of themselves, effect no substantial change.
Attempts to develop new approaches to social statistics along
AT lines may in principle contribute to the task of developing a
radical statistics—not only by contributing to our understanding of
the problems of existing statistical data and techniques, but also by
suggesting some of the directions in which statistics could be
transformed away from the practices presently dominant. But
unless the development of new ideas and techniques is linked to
more general attempts to bring about radical social change, they
can carry little weight in a society whose S and T are likely only to
change insofar as they can incorporate ideas and techniques useful
to ruling class interests.
r. Social responsibility in science and technology

A rather more popular critical response to the problems with
S and T among practicing scientists and engineers has been that of
‘social responsibility’ (SR). SR seeks to deal with the problems of
modem society by calling for more and better S and T, rather than
■ for abandoning them in pursuit ofdubious alternatives. Sand Tare
, 'themselves seen as essentially rational activities: the problems arise
•: dnly from their misuse. The role of radical scientists, and engineers,
< /should be to work within S and T, and to make sure their work is
?> used responsibly.

348

Demystifying Social Statistics

The notion of'social responsibility’ originated with the failure
of a group of the scientists working on the initial development of the
atomic bomb (the Manhattan Project) to dissuade the politicians
and military from using it against Japanese civilian targets (Jungk,
1964), and their subsequent campaign to generate a wider public
awareness of the consequences of nuclear warfare.
The events surrounding the use of the atomic bomb changed,
forever, the relationship of many liberal scientists to science.
Although the creators of the nuclear bomb had warned of its
horrific power, it had still been used: the traditional separation
between science and society could no longer be easily assumed. The
awesome consequences of their work raised severe doubts in their
minds about the control of S and T; doubts compounded by the
growth of state planning of national research and development
policies. As the ‘pursuit of knowledge’ became transformed into
‘science in the national interest’, the idea of the typical scientist
working in splendid isolation from social pressures increasingly
came under attack. Many liberal scientists saw social responsibility
as the way to prevent their work being misused.
A second major impetus to the development ofSR approaches
to S and T came in the 1960s with the campaigns against nuclear
weapons (e.g. the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament (CND) in
Britain), and, later, through the massive American involvement in
Vietnam and the application, with gruesome results, ofS and T to
biological and chemical warfare. The concern of scientists about the
napaiming of innocent civilian populations and the defoliation and
despoliation of vast areas was expressed in the formation of groups
like ‘Scientists and Engineers for Social and Political Action’
(SESPA) in the USA, and the ‘British Society for Social Re­
sponsibility in Science' (BSSRS) in Britain (sec Rose and Rose,
1976).
The scientists and engineers who initially joined these groups
covered a wide political spectrum; their differences were made
relatively unimportant at first by the immediacy of the problems at
hand. Both liberal and radical elements were able to unite under a
common conception ofS and T as ethically neutral, asocial, bodies
of knowledge and technique: they could be used for good purposes
or abused for. bad ones. This conception of S and T—now
commonly termed the ‘use-abuse’ model—takes problems, such as
atomic warfare, as deriving from the abuse’ of S and T by elites for
the inappropriate end of destroying life (whereas the scientists
developing nuclear power were seen as intending it to enrich
human life by providing cheap and unlimited sources of energy).

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 349
Thus it was not S and T per sc, but their abuses, that came under
attack.
The ways in which scientists and engineers should organise to
press for socially responsible science and technology were, however,
the subject of debate. Most saw SR as a matter for the conscience of
the individual scientist; others argued that what was needed was a
more informed (scientific) awareness on the part ofstate authorities
of the need to develop more rational S and T policies; and a
minority of radicals argued that SR was best fostered by scientists
organising with other workers to press for rather broader-based
institutional changes.
The main thrust of the SR movement was thus to argue that
scientists have a duty to educate themselves about the adverse
effects and likely abuses of their work. Only then would they be in a
position to forewarn society of the potential hazards associated with
particular directions ofscientific research and development Rather
than questioning the bases for the social production of particular
forms of S and T—other than condemning the levels of expenditure
on military research and on the development ofwasteful luxuries—
the SR movement has restricted its criticism to abuses in the
consumption of S and T. The main weapons in this campaign to
prevent misuse of S and T have been information drives aimed at
shaping the opinions of both the general public and the political
elites, together with codes of practice to prevent irresponsible
actions by deviant scientists and technologists. It was hoped that
such criticism would enlighten the elites, and, if and when
necessary, awaken public opinion through the mass media to such
an extent that government and industry would be dissuaded from
perpetuating these abuses.
An SR-type approach has been adopted by many statisticians
and users of statistics, attempting to counter what they see as the
widespread misuse of statistics. Critical commentaries on statistics
—Reichmann’s Use and Abuse of Statistics and Huff’s How to Lie with
Statistics, being perhaps the two best-known examples—tend to take
a similar line. In these accounts, statistics is treated as a set of neutral
technical procedures for processing data and assessing links be­
tween different sets of data: the problems encountered in statistical
usage are seen as arising from technical ineptitude or deliberate
misrepresentation. Both problems can be solved relatively easily—
the first by improving standards, through professionalising statis­
tical practice and developing a higher level of public knowledge
about basic statistical techniquesand conventions; the second by SR
in statistics. The socially responsible statistician would, typically.

350

Demystifying Social Statistics

help develop and follow ‘codes of practice’, thus making public
the bases and assumptions on which s/he has produced and assessed
data. In this way, possible misuse of statistical work—especially
misinterpretation of figures by politicians—would be thwarted
I and ‘bias'and ‘inaccuracy’ removed. Thesociallyresponsiblcstatisti| cian would also have a duty to criticise offenders against this code
■ publicly. Social scientists and others using statistics would need to
| guard in a similar fashion against political or journalistic ‘dis­
tortion’ of their analyses.
Such an approach has proved appealing to many scientists
concerned about the problems associated with their work. Undeni­
ably, SR has had its share of successes—its proponents have, for
example, contributed to the demystification of specialised (or
secret) knowledge and techniques, in.respect of health and safety at
work, for example. It has also been possible to effect, at least for a
while, controls and/or changes in certain areas of scientific
research—genetic engineering being a recent example. In some
cases (e.g. environmentalism), dramatic appeals by individual
scientists and technologists have helped stimulate major public
debate over the effects of S and T. Mobilising the mass action
necessary to reverse public policy is, however, generally beyond the
scope of the SR approach, which relies on the willingness and
ability of the mass media to stimulate awareness and structure
action. Since the media will only rarely exert influence beyond the
terrain slaked out by party politics and the capitalist economy,
effective action beyond these limits requires a degree and form of
organisation that cannot be provided from above by scientific,
engineering or journalistic elites or would-be elites.
More often than not these problems cannot even arise—for
the most part, individual scientific workers are relatively powerless.
A socially responsible conscience can in fact often turn out to be
little more than an expensive liability, as was the case in a recent
example of SR in which an engineer working for a large British
electronics company wrote to the Guardian explaining his refusal to
work on a contract to supply communications equipment to the
South African Defence Department. The engineer in question was
at first informed that, since he could not be trusted, his opportuni­
ties for promotion would be limited. The Company then suspended
him from work; and while he was later reinstated, it would seem
unlikely that he has a very rosy future with them—nor, for that
matter, with any other electronics company.
Similar problems would surely be encountered if a few
government statisticians decided to become ‘socially responsible’.

Social Statistics: Tocoardt a Radiati Science 351
In Britain, the Official Secrets Act could be hurled at them immedi­
ately: the statistician’s role is to produce and process the data
required by the state in an ‘objective and dispassionate’ manner,
not to divulge them publicly as a matter ofcourse, nor to interfere in
political debate over interpretation of their significance. In the case
ofa se rious breach, the offending statisticians could conceivably find
themselves biding Her Majesty’s pleasure in prison. If a significant
number of statisticians were to organise themselves to take collec­
tive action this would have a far greater impact—but, for the
reasons outlined by the Government Statistician’s Collective (this
volume), the hierarchical organisation, the fragmentation and
the isolation of statistical work, make this seem extremely unlikely.
Within groups like BSSRS, a recognition of problems with the SR
approach was not slow in developing, and this critique of SR can
help extend our analysis of statistics.
2. Towards an analysis of science and technology
as social products

From its inception, there was an internal tension in BSSRS
between liberal and radical elements. Among the liberals were the
vast majority of BSSRS’s more eminent members. They believed
both in the neutrality of science and in the efficacy of SR in
countering ‘abuses’. The radicals, in contrast, argued increasingly
that this notion of SR was insufficient. Environmental pollution,
biological warfare and atomic bombs could be explained ade­
quately neither in terms of accident nor ignorance. As the then
chairman of BSSRS (sexual politics had not penetrated far in
BSSRS by 1972J_wrote in New Scientist on the organisation’s third
birthday:
’~ ■
We have found ourselves driven to understand not just the particular
abuse, but the social system which despite the benevolent potential
of science somehow manages to produce abuse after abuse. (Rosenhead, 1972, p. 135).

The radicals saw scientific production as bound up with the
class nature of capitalist society: a society oriented towards
production for profit rather than need was bound also to produce
continual abuses of science. The neutrality of science, with its
beneficent potential, was seen to be systematically distorted under
capitalism into a malevolent reality. Only with fundamental social
and political change would this potential be realised.
•"m Not surprisingly, such radical analyses did not appeal to the
liberal membership who saw the radicals as arguing that S and T

£5-“”

352

Demystifying Social Statistics

were necessarily warped in capitalist society, and began to define
them as subversive opponents of the mixed economy and its
pluralist polity. Having seen political controls undermining the
autonomy of science in what they regarded as socialist states, many
scientists and engineers were virulently anti-communist: problems
with S and T were their responsibility, not those of politicians. They
remembered the Lysenko affair in the Soviet Union all too well (see
Lcwontin and Levins, 1976; Young, 1978). The radicals, in turn,
argued that the ethos of professionalism and individual SR were at
best utterly impotent. The result was a predictable mass exodus of
the liberals from BSSRS, with some subsequently regrouping in
1973 in the Council for Science and Society. This self-selected and
.•
openly elitist body (e.g. see J. Ziman, 1975), aided by thousands of
pounds of Leverhulme Foundation money, continues to explore the S
social implications of certain areas of science in the way the BSSRS
might have done in its early days. In line with the politics of SR, its
i
deliberations are presented to the establishment in the form of
expensive pamphlets (e.g. Council for Science and Society, 1976).
This exodus also had a profound effect upon BSSRS itself.
Froma pluralist pressure group arguing primarily forSR inSandT,
it had become a radical group of scientists, engineers and others ex­
plicitly committed, in the main, to revolutionary social transforma­
tion. The recomposition of its membership jneant that BSSRS’i ...
policies and strategics needed thoroughly rethinking. With its (
debate over the role of radical scientists and engineers in society ■
concentrated in the revolutionary left, the critique ofS and T under
capitalism took on new dimensions.
Until the early 1970s the radical position on science and
technology had been based, like that of SR, on the ‘use-abuse’ i:
model. The questions for radical scientists and engineers were: how.,';
can we demonstrate that the problems with S and T lie in their .!]
misuse in a class-divided capitalist society? What form of societal
organisation is needed to best realise the beneficent potential of S?-?
and T? In which organisations could radicals best bring about thej ?
political and social changes needed to provide the environment for
their S and T to be better used?
Providing answers to these questions became; increasing!^;
difficult as, with the progress of the debate within BSSRS, emphasis:
was placed more and more on the production of S and T, as well a*on;
their consumption. The debate drew in politicised elements from both'
the old counter-culture and the AT movement, who soughed
critical examination of the nature of S and T in capitalist societ
Was it not the case, they argued, that science was more than a set

Social Statistics: Towards, a Radical Science 353

P
t
I
E
J
;

t..
j,
'

methods and techniques; was it not also a system of concepts and
social practices? Was it not the case that non-polluting and less
alienating technologies, like solar energy, were not used—nor
hardly dreamed of—in capitalist society because there was little or
no incentive to actually adopt and produce them?
The crystallisation of the debate over S and T around overtly
radical nuclei, enriched by the infusion oiYhese other elements,
finally resulted in the displacement of the ‘use-abuse’ model. S and
T began to be seen in much broader social terms—as forms of social
, knowledge, social practices, and social applications developed within
j..’,.- the framework' of capitalist society. Scientific concepts were
Bfe. • profoundly linked with other sets of concepts,, which all reflected
Kf.'
ideological elements. The hierarchical, elitist and sexist practices of
Kir';,- science paralleled other social practices in capitalist society, the
K‘<- ■ orientation and utility of S and T could not be divorced from the
social and economic factors that conditioned their development. S
Kfe;< and T as a whole needed to be seen in terms of their development,
KjS'1 reproduction and roles within capitalist society.
■ft;-:'
This meant a major reorientation of the role of organisations
KBi?’ like BSSRS (whose name was by now rather anachronistic). The
Kkp-1- ■ development of the liberating potentials for S and T was thus more
K&£j i than just removing their mis-use through the purgative of a revolutionary social transformation. While certain forms of scientific
; .fknowledge and technique, and certain technologies, developed
'within capitalist society will surely be put to good use in a future
■5.7. • socialist society, much might not. New sciences and technologies, a
KBrefe'-’Whole new concept of S and T, more appropriate to the needs of
j^^^p:socialist society, may need to be created and developed. Just as
KBsR?-'. society needs to b?thoroughly transformed, so do the scientific and
technological practices which are constituted in it. This analysis
IKptffi.’- suggested that an important aspect of the work of organisations like
BSSRS was to develop a critique of both the nature and practices of
and T, not as ‘S and T under capitalism’ but as ‘capitalist
■ifes and T.
Developments concerning statistics, similar to those in the
;=KKjS}ir'!f&Bcal science movement, have been occasioned by the more
gK^-mCent 1v formed Radical Statistics Group (RSG) in Britain. As in
^n^^^Ofse of BSSRS, many of its founding members were drawn from
||K«g^;itstablishmentprofes3ional organisation—in this case the Royal
g^^^gStMtisrical Society (RSS). Liberal members, of this largely congls^Ejferifative society hoped to form a ginger group within it in order
;==HlK^bpih to democratise it and to promote disemsion on. previously
- - HSmpmluded issues such as politically motivated'‘misuse’ of statistics.

•354

Demystifying Social Statistics

Indeed, largely as a result of pressure from RSG members, elections
for the RSS council and presidency were held, for the first time in
many years, in 1977. The establishment candidate, Sir Campbell
Adamson, was embarrassingly beaten. (For details see various issues
of Radical Statistics Newsletter, between 1975-77).5
Many RSG members saw their role as being mainly to
[ develop a statistician’s ‘code of practice’ which would ensure
I that the technical and theoretical assumptions in their work were
I made clear in the presentation of data—in short, statisticiansshould
; become socially responsible. Other areas of work seen as important
have been in the area of‘misuse’ of statistics—for example, in criti­
cising the government’s use of statistics in pruning the NHS6—and,
to date less successfully, providing expert statistical help to com- J '■
munity groups and others in struggles through what was dubbed a
'statistical fire-brigade’.
As with BSSRS, there has been an uneasy tension in the group
between those who advocate a liberal SR strategy with a focus on
the ‘misuse’ of statistics, and the radicals, more concerned with a
critique of statistical practice in capitalist society. Even though the
.
RSG’s policy statement and its affiliation to BSSRS seem to
indicate that its aims go beyond stopping abuse to a scrutiny of the
r1a« nature of contemporary statistics, these issues have not yet
been confronted adequately.
i
As has also been the case for other areas of S and T, a general
<s
critique of the role of statistical practices in capitalist society is
needed. Such a general critique has begun to be developed within
the radical science movement, and is indispensible if scientists and , .yJ
engineers—and statisticians—are to work out how they can best jX'-S
facilitate social transformation. Strategies for the radical science '
movement can only be effective if based on such knowledge.
3.

Science and technology in capitalist society

S and T can be seen as integral to both the maintenance and
reproduction of modem capitalist society in two major ways.
Scientific knowledge and techniques, as used to produce techno- >■.’
logical innovations, are vital to the search for profit and competitive .
advantage among business enterprises.-And both S and T play a
central role in facilitating social control: to suppress and repress dj
threats to the existing social order, and to legitimate that order as I
humane and rational. S and T, then, are elements in a wider social;-/,,
system, whose operation needs to be evaluated in detail. In,;;
developing perspectives on radical S and T.
'{yS

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 355

a. Science and technology for profit within the capitalist enterprise
In capitalist production scientific research'is the foundation
on which both new products and new production processes are .
developed. Old products for new markets, new products for both !
old and new markets, and more efficient ways of producing them ?
are the key to success in capitalist production. Both advertising and *
the elimination of existing alternatives help to create markets for
new products, with profit rather than social need the watchword for
’ their introduction. Completely new needs are created to serve an
increasingly technologised production process—e.g. for deodor‘i ‘ ants, tranquillisers and goods purchased as status symbols as much
p, as for other uses—often by playing on insecurities themselves
" engendered by capitalist society.
The nervous ‘macho’ of capitalist man is defined and reini- forced by artefacts symbolising male dominance, the ‘femininity’ of
?‘r. capitalist woman by consumer goods—particularly cosmetics and
;■ fashion—reinforcing her role as mother, domestic labourer and sex
'» object. Meanwhile, the basic needs of those people without suffif cient resources to pay for commodities remain unfulfilled; for
i poverty goes completely unrecognised by market forces. The basic
tj‘ science needed, for example, to deal with many of the problems of
i age-related illness have just not been developed by the multinational
^ pharmaceutical companies. Old people with meagre pensions just
■j- cannot generate demand for the expensive technological products
i, the companies depend upon for their high profits. Similarly, the
^social and ecological consequences of capitalist production are
^' ignored in the calculations made in deciding whether or not to
^develop and introduce'new products, unless they are forced upon
/Companies by political pressure. The psychological effects of
Jiusembly-line and shift work are problems to be dealt with only by
j'tiaying marginally higher wages. Macho-man becomes an even
snore unthinking, uncaring and underdeveloped person; feminine
'woman as housewife retreats into pep-pills for the day, ‘sleepers’ for
the night, doubly oppressed as both housewife and wage-labourer.
Both are induced to become slaves to production at work, puppets
to consumption at home. These stresses are made even worse by the
pollution and disregard for health and safety which are similarly
direct by-products of capitalist production.’
few Statistics plays various roles in all of this, too. Market
(research, for example; attempts to quantify the extent of viable
iafketsand the prices they will bear for different products—and
inipling theory is particularly useful here. Many of the techniques

356

Darysiifring Social Statistics

Social Statistics: Toccarda a Radical Sama 357

of mathematical statistics were in fact initially developed for
existing workplaces. Monotony, toil and danger are consequences
agricultural and industrial applications, notably to assess the
of the systematic development of technologies in a capitalist
relative efficiencies of different operations, (see Pearson, 1973; and
productive system where the criterion of profit overrides that of
Roscnhead and Thunhurst, this volume). Seen in wider historical
welfare, and where the initiatives and interests of workers are
terms, the development of the capitalist mode of production
subordinated to those of an efficient, albeit alienated, labour
stimulated and structured a vast demand for quantification (see
process.’ The scientific infrastructure servicing the demand for
Shaw and Miles; and Young, this volume). The range and nature of
technological change is similarly no neutral end-product of the
statistical technique and practices with which we are now presented
logic ofscientific advance; norare current scientific practices the only
should be understood as intimately related to these social forces. ’
way of organising and carrying put scientific work.
)
The wider application of S and T to the production process
One particularly significant facet to the process of deskilling
I has not merely been a matter of increasing the efficiency (that is,
involves the historical growth and subsequent change in the nature
I profitability) of particular production methods; it has also involved
of scientific and technical work. Indeed, the displacement of labour
' facilitating and extending management control over labour.
by machines is often portrayed as if all workers were becoming more
Historically, the development of the factory system, and the
skilled, and, freed from the worst aspects of backbreaking labour,
consequent division of labour into a series of fragmented tasks,
more able to develop and use their mental capacities at the
represented A major change in the organisation of production; one
workplace. Although this argument vastly overstates the extent to
which had among its effects the shifting of control of the labour
which a demand for trained, expert workers was created, the
( process away from craft workers. S and T both created the
growth of sections of scientific and technical workers was important
i conditions for these changes and were stimulated in their develop­
in the development of capitalist production. As the labour process
ment by them. Craft skills were first fragmented into constituent
was ‘rationalised’ by an elaborate division of labour, so design and
elements, each of which could be performed individually and more
technical work were separated from production, which was being
rapidly by different workers, and then machines were developed to
reduced to repetitive, simplified jobs. Specialised and technical
take over specific simple tasks. Multi-function machines were intro­
tasks of design and co-ordination were thus created, generating an
duced to take over whole groups of tasks; and it is now possible for
expanding requirement for appropriate "Specialist workers. Re­
an extensive production process to be automated—complete with
search and development functions in firms were dramatically
fail-safe devices and cybernetic monitoring.
expanded, with increasing state support through the provision of
The skill, creativity and autonomy ofcraft workers were thus
scientific training in universities and colleges and the funding of
basic scientific research.
gradually and systematically eroded: workers were transformed
first into machine appendages, then into machine monitors, and
The development of new scientific and technical workers’
now, perhaps, into mere midwives and maintainers of machines.
skills and knowledge_ was set in motion largely/by 4and
for capital,
----------J--—,
L..»
.1
---------»--- _!• 1
» *•Skilk which are passed on from one generation to another, and , . but these workers
did, and often continue to, possess special status
■'
y.A
by
virtue
of
their
expertise.
Often,
they
gain
a
greater
measure
of
which take years for each worker to acquire, are made redundant
overnight through their incorporation into machines; many skilled
satisfaction and security from their work than shop-floor workers.
workers are replaced by the very machines they have helped to
*• Indeed, because of this, they often isolate themselves from the
-struggles of other workers, seeing themselves as professionals, and in
create.
The trivial, monotonous and stressful labour which charac­ *
some cases as a branch of management—even though their pay may
sfij now be little different from that of other workers.
terises so many people’s work experience, and is epitomised by the
modem assembly line, is thus not a simple abuse of technical ;
In recent years, however, some industrial scientists and
Yr engineers (like many ‘professionals’ in service sector employment)
possibilities. The machines, the systems of production, have been
designed and produced within the constraints ofcapitalist efficiency : *^'1 have found that the processes of deskilling and redundancy have
. Z; begun to- threaten- them too. Computer-aided design is a case in
and control, not to provide rewarding jobs or useful products.
-..7-point: with it, standard components no longer have to be redrawn
Much of the monotony, toff and danger of modem industry would
jvrdcr even if workers owned and controlled the machines in their
■( .afresh on each design. Thus, the design staff are left to spend all their

358

Demystifying Social Statistics

time drawing non-routinc items. While this may release them from
the drudgery of routine work, at the same time it takes the form of a
speed-up; working continually on tasks requiring considerable
concentration, the workers are now employed in more demanding
and tiring work. And as the design process becomes increasingly
rationalised, and more design items become either standardised or
amenable to computerised treatment, so a smaller workforce is
required. (See Cooley, 1976; and Gorz, 1976b).
This kind of experience has begun to undermine the profes­
sional’ ideology of many scientific workers, for their work increas­
ingly resembles that of shop-floor workers. Provided with less job
satisfaction, they have clearly become little cogs in a big wheel
whose movement they are in no position to control. Rather than
being the autonomous and creative force they once thought
themselves to be, scientists and engineers arc now finding them­
selves subjected to the same threats of redundancy, speed-up and
control as other workers.
As a result, scientific and technical work is acquiring a new
political significance. The answer is not to opt out, or to become
‘socially responsible’: workers are finding it necessary to organise, to
protect themselves from the growing ‘rationalisation’ of Sand T for
profit. Thus it comesas no surprise that the Association of Scientific,
Technical and Management Staffs (ASTMS) is now Britain’s
fastest growing union—although like similarly fast growing unions
of scientific and technical workers in other countries it still carries
with it much of the baggage of ‘professionalism’. Recruitment,
significantly, has been particularly high in the computer field, one
of the leading areas of recent deskilling.

b. Science and technology for social control: state and ideology

S and T have not only been central in the development and
reproduction of the productive forces and relations of capitalist
society. They have also been crucial to the development and
reproduction of the everyday social practices which are necessary
conditions for its existence, and which structure and maintain it. In
liberal democratic capitalist states, educational and cultural insti­
tutions (often in the state apparatus) have proved remarkably
effective in establishing and maintaining acquiescence-the con­
sensus’ of the ‘silent majority’-to the established order, despite
class divisions and exploitation. But there are contradictions within
this complex balance offerees, which when exposed and political^
acted upon can sometimes upset this apparently stable system. The
development and use of S and T in social control-that B, to

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 359

preserve the hegemony of capitalist social relations in cultural and
social matters—is of vital importance. Statistical science plays a
particularly, and increasingly, important role here.
Of course, physical coercion—let alone the potential for such
coercion in the form of armies, etc.—is never completely absent,
even in the most politically ‘stable’ state. In their military
applications, S and T are instrumental in producing ever more
sophisticated ways of killing, maiming and incapacitating the socalled ‘enemies of the nation’. These means of destruction are not
just developed and used in conflicts between nationstates, but also in
suppressing wars of liberation, and in controlling insurgent civilian
populations. In Northern Ireland, for example, the British Army
and police have in recent years introduced a variety of new
techniques—CS gas, rubber bullets, sophisticated spying devices,
and tortures such as sensory deprivation, designed to maim
mentally while leaving no physical scars (see BSSRS, 1974; and
Ackroyd et al., 1977). In addition, partly in order to facilitate the
existing operations of the state repressive apparatus, and partly as
insurance for future emergencies and as an investment in a ‘strong
state’, techniques for the surveillance and monitoring of behaviour
have been developed. Making use of recent developments in
computer technology (and in turn developing them even more), the
British police has recently established large, centralised data-banks
which hold information on millions of people—on immigrant
groups, trades unionists and political militants in addition to
‘ convicted criminals.’ This is backed up by a sophisticated network
which gathers the information to feed into the system, and involves
various state agencies in Britain—notably MI5 and the Special
Branch. Applied social research is busy, too, trying to place at the
disposal of the political police a whole host of statistical techniques,
often borrowed from the armed services but developed and
improved upon in the course of civilian use. OR techniques, for
example, are used to regulate and plan activities and operations (see
Rosenhead and Thunhurst, this volume); techniques of quantita­
tive social research have been developed and used to study and
simulate civilian strife and insurgency so as to forecast and develop
the best strategies to deal with them (e.g. see Horowitz, 1967. Fora
British example, see Noton et. al., 1974); and opinion-polling has
been used to obtain information on such issues as levels of
acceptable force in dealing with civilian strife or in planning
strategy in publicly unpopular wars like that in Vietnam (where the
USA tunned to altitude surveys of the ‘friendly’ population and
content analyses of interrogations of Vietcong prisoners). Again,

360

Demystifying Social Statistics

these coercive uses of S and T—whether arbitrary or systematic_
are no ‘misuse’. They represent a body of scientific concepts
knowledge, techniques and practices, and technologies, inadvanced
capitalist society. They are the products of huge state investments in
this area of S and T, and the horrors associated with them are
nothing less than necessary by-products.
A less obvious, but also significant, role played by S and T in
Western capitalist society is in the creation and reproduction of
cultural meanings. As several chapters in this book have already
shown, the contribution of statistics to maintaining the dominance
of ruling class ideology is particularly important—in, for example,
reinforcing elements of common sense which are both derived from
and support the status quo (see, in particular, Irvine and Miles;
Krige; Marsh; and Young, this volume). But scientific knowledge as
a whole is presented as being free from political and ideological
factors, as dealing with the realm of facts rather than that ofvalues,
and therefore as being free from the influence of particular narrow
sets of interests. The sciences often seem inherently difficult and
esoteric—especially when, as in statistics, mathematics is involved.
Many people, mystified by science, defer to the allegedly dis­
interested opinions of scientific experts. Science thus simultaneously
takes on the character of the most rational and reliable guide to
decision-making—even in the social arena—and as something
whose definition and practice should be left to experts. This
deference reinforces the power of those in whose interests S and T
have been developed and used—the class that owns and controls the
means of producing S and T. Encouraging deference certainly pays
dividends, as is indicated by the increasing application of the
techniques of natural science (or at least their paraphernalia and
terminology) to the analysis of social issues, in an attempt to render
decision-making more ‘rational*—and thus placing it above politics
(Miles and Irvine section 4; and Rosenhead and Thunhurst, this
volume; see also Blackburn, 1972; Mills, 1961; Pateman, 1972; and
Shaw 1975, for related critiques of bourgeois social science).
Scientific authority is also invoked in support of the absence of
decisive activity: for example, when science is used to provide
arguments and evidence suggesting that inequalities of class, race
and sex are essentially unalterable. The social division of abour
between the sexes is explained in terms of innate biological
differences in abilities and temperament between women and men
(for example, see Eysenck, 1973; and Hutt, 1972. Fora critique see
Krige, this volume; Fainveather, 1976; and Griffiths and Saraga,
1979). Race and class divisions arc similarly explained, respec-

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 361
lively, in terms of the supposed innate intellectual superiority of
whites over blacks, and of the ruling class over the working class­
differences which are then used tojustify the unequal distribution of
reward and privilege in society (for a survey and critique of these
ideas, see Karnin, 1977; and Rose, 1976).
Political challenge can be defused ifthese inequalities are seen
to be founded upon fixed biological differences rather than aseffects
of the social structuring of peoples’ education and opportunities,
attitudes and aspirations. (See, especially, Science for the People,
1977). Statistically processed data are often used to provide the
‘factual’ evidence to back up such theories. Modem mathematical
statistics was crucially shaped (as MacKenzie, this volume, dem­
onstrates) by the attempt to provide rigorous quantitative formula­
tions for the biological explanations of social inequalities.
This is not to say that the scientists and statisticians whose
work is used in this way are all colluding in a gigantic capitalist plot
to run (or ruin) society. But the body ofmore-or-Iess ‘pure’ scientists
and academics that has developed along with the advance of
capitalist industry did not develop as the spontaneous manifesta­
tion of an asocial, dispassionate thirst for knowledge. While
individual scientists are sometimes motivated, in part at least, by
the desire to produce knowledge for its own sake or because it might
be useful for humanity, the choices which are available to them are
limited in many respects. Scientists are part of a scientific com­
munity whose norms and sanctions influence their activities; they
are constrained by pre-existing structures of scientific language,
convention and practice; they cannot ignore the body of accepted
scientific knowledge; moreover, the instruments and techniques
available to them will delimit their endeavours. In addition, the
concepts and practices of S and T arc indirectly influenced by, and
in turn influence, other social concepts and practices (see for
example, Foucault, 1970; Sohn-Rethel, 1978).
This is to say nothing of such obvious factors as the constraints
imposed by funding patterns—which, since they are largely
controlled by industry and the slate, reflect quite strongly the needs.
of capital rather than the needs of the massofhumanity.10 Conflicts
do arise, of course, between the professionalism of scientific
researchers and these interests: for example, researchers often
complain about the lack of investment in certain areas. But as we
have seen, scientists are typically able to exercise little control over
the nature and use of their product; social and economic factors
structure their activities both direcdy and indirectly.
Analysing the ways S and T function for profit and for social

362

Demystifying Social Statistics

control demonstrates the crucial importance of an assessment of
o and T for understanding the powerlessness and deprivation in so
many peoples lives. And, as.we have argued, statistics forms a
particularly fine (precise) and tough (reliable) thread in the cloak of
scientific neutrality behind which the basic structures of capitalist
society operate. The power which statistics, as a means of creating,
organising and assessing knowledge, brings to the capitalist pro­
duction process is thus also invaluable in legitimating its class
system.
Integral though statistics may be to the operation of capitalist
society, its practices are not invulnerable to radical criticism nor
totally resistant to change. Like other areas ofS and T, statistics can
to some extent be fashioned in opposition to the social and economic
factors which shape the dominant sets of scientific practices. The
concepts, techniques, instruments and practices of S and T arc
strongly structured but not completely determined by society; the social
practices of scientists and engineers are not mechanical reflections
of some more real all-powerful ‘base’. There exists some room for
the development and practice of a radical science—but to what
degree and under what conditions is the vital issue. One of the
conditions which can facilitate this practice is a critical under­
standing of the role of S and T, just as a failure to make a critical
analysis can facilitate the dominant practices of S and T.
Armed with this understanding, radicals can both make
interventions in the critique of capitalist society and begin to
develop radical scientific practice. The development of a radical
1 statistics, or for that matter any radical science, cannot wait for the
| fundamental social changes to take place that will provide struc’ tures for the development of an entirely new S and T—for the
I development of radical science practices may itself help effect, and
\ can indeed form, a vital part of such changes. It is to these
\ possibilities for developing a radical statistical practice, and the
strategies needed to do so, that we now tum.
4.

A radical statistics?

By stressing the political and economic roles of S and T in
general, and statistics in particular, we can see how limited are the
three common responses to their problems that were considered
earlier. Fora refusal to make use of quantitative data, or to counter
statistical practices directly, is nothing less than disarming: a focus
on developing ‘alternative statistics’ which does not confront the
reasons for the dominant forms of statistical practice flourishing is
unlikely to establish its own roots securely; and whilst a socially

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 363

responsible statistics’ might achieve some support, at best it could
contain only the most overt of the continuing ‘abuses' of statistics.
Even the radical version of the ‘use-abuse’ approach is, as we have
seen, severely limited insofar as it colludes with the view of S and T
as neutral and latently beneficent—fighting for changes in the
structures in which S and T are used, but not in the production of
S and T themselves, can lead to extremely reactionary political
positions and strategies.
It has only been through the development of an analysis of S
and T as social products and practices that die radical science
movement has really begun to formulate effective theory and
practice. This experience can usefully be taken into account in
looking at the possibilities and problems associated with the
development of a radical statistics.
Radical scientists and engineers work in a great many
political organisations, but in Britain two organisations in par­
ticular have shared S and T as their focal point: BSSRS and the
Radical Science Journal Collective (RSJ).“ While these groups
have different working styles and objectives, they both seek to
develop a better understanding of the production and use of S and T
and to integrate this into political struggle. They have found it
necessary to develop-their work on several different fronts. First,
they have had to deepen the critique of S and T beyond the
traditional stress on their uses, to embrace a wide range of concepts,
techniques and practices. Second, they have had to work out wap
of disseminating this knowledge, of making it available in particular
to scientists and engineers, so as to help raise political consciousness
and, in tum, to increase the effectiveness of political struggle. Third,
they have had to formulate strategies for the use of S and T in
furthering political struggle. Critical re-use of existing concepts and
techniques, within existing practices, is sometimes extremely
effective—as is shown by BSSRS’ work in the field of occupational
health and safety. Here, BSSRS has published a number of useful
handbooks (on noise, oil and vibration as health hazards to workers)
and produces Hazards Bulletin, a magazine which contains in­
formation on, and news of, workers’struggles over health and safety
issues;12 these publications draw together and reinterpret existing
knowledge on health and safety. Fourth, on the basis of a critique of
the limitations of ‘radical re-use’, they have sought to explore the
prospects for developing a radical S and T—and to identify and
facilitate the parts which scientific and technical workers may play
here. (See Rose and Rose, 1976; and Werskey, 1975 and 1978, for
differing assessments of the potential strategies for the radical

364

Demystifying Social Statistics

science movement). They have thus had to take up, albeit at a fairly
speculative level, the possible nature and role of S and T in a future
socialist society as well as considering the forms and uses of S and T
in non-Westem societies.13
Radical approaches to statistics can learn from these objec­
tives and strategies. Informed by, and working towards, a more
incisive critique of the role of statistics in capitalist society, it should
be possible to relate and further develop the interventions that may
be made in the field of social statistics, and to assess the results that
might be obtained by adopting different strategies in radical
practice. We can make only a preliminary analysis of some possible
interventions that may be considered. We examine, in turn, the
critique of statistics, the possibilities for and limitations on its
radical re-use, and, lastly, the potential for developing new forms of
statistical data, techniques and practices.

a.

The critique of statistics

It is to the critique of statistics that much of this book has
necessarily been addressed—for without knowledge of the dimen­
sions and roots of the problems with statistics, action to remedy the
situation becomes pointless, and, by and large, doomed to failure.
Attacking the notion that statistics is a surety for truth and
objectivity in scientific knowledge of society, and a guarantor of
rationality and freedom from bias in planning and policy-making,
is an important political task. This position of privilege is rarely
questioned: close inspection is normally forestalled by people who
treat quantitative analysis as something for experts only, and/or as
something which can safely be left to experts given the ‘neutrality of
numbers’ and the impartiality of statisticians. Yet, as previous
chapters have shown, such close inspection reveals that arguments
for the objectivity and rationality of statistics cloak a social
framework of control and exploitation, which itself conditions the
development and application ofstatistical data and methods. Thus,
for example, the section of this book which assessed official statistics
demonstrated that these data are preconceptualised and produced
according to both the ideology of the ruling class and its interests,
articulated and co-ordinated through the state.
Other chapters showed that much can be learned about
mathematical statistics through a study of their social origins (e.g.
MacKcnzic’s account of the development of the correlation
coefficient by eugenicists) and the conditions promoting their later
development and expanded use (e.g. Atkins’ andjarret saccount of
the treatment ofsignilicance tcslsas guides to the discovery of soctal

Social Statistics: Toicards a Radical Science 365

laws’ and McLean’s discussion of the use of computers as aids to
’objective' analysis). Other chapters attacked the increasing de­
pendence upon technical experts using the latest statistical decision­
making tools to provide supposedly scientific, rational solutions to
social problems—thus limiting active, political discourse (e.g.
Marsh on opinion-polling; Miles and Irvine on forecasting; and
Rosenhead and Thunhurst on operations research).
But while it is certainly necessary to challenge the scientism
and elitism inherent in the use of social statistics in these ways, it is
important to extend this critique beyond exposing abstractly the
foundations of statistics in the institutions and ideologies which
articulate the dominant social interests. It must be linked to
concrete political struggle. If not, the result may be merely to foster
the ‘anti-statistics' position which sees the problems with contem­
porary society as rooted not in capitalist exploitation and oppres­
sion, but in the scientific organisation of ‘technological’ society.
Radicals might unwisely try to tap peoples’ disaffection from the
state bureaucracy, for example, by attacking quantification and
statistics per se—there is some evidence that the degree of
cooperation with national censuses and social research is declining.
But such opposition can at most be limited, and may lx countered
by moves such as the annual ‘Statistics Day’ in Japan—with
statistics competitions for schoolchildren and other paraphernalia
—which have been instituted toovercome criticismsol the scale and
burden of official statistical enquiries.
To change the forms and uses of statistics on any large scale
means developing and presenting this critique in the light of the
goal of achieving fundamental transformation in society. Political
and social change on this scale can be produced only by the actions
of a working class identifying its prime enemy as capitalism itself,
rather than any particular group of‘bad’ capitalists or politicians
(both of whom ‘misuse’ statistics when it suits their ends), or any
particular failure to rationalise the exploitative relations of capi­
talism (the ‘rationality’ of which is often demonstrated in statistical
terms). Thus, the critique of statistics must be linked to the needs of
the working class movement and the struggle of groups oppressed
by imperialism, racism and sexism—moving beyond a critique of
the inadequacy or oppressive use of statistics to demonstrating the
class interests and assumptions underlying the claims' made for
objectivity of data and rationality of decisions.
Theoretical critique is not an end in itself: it should aim to
facilitate radical social action. This involves showing not only that
such claims for statistics further rulingclass interests, but, crucially.

366

Dcmystijying Social Statistics

that they oppose the long-term interests of other classes, and of
women and other oppressed groups. A fair day’s work for a fair
day’s pay may already be a powerful ideology supporting the*
systematic exploitation of workers (e.g. see Hyman and Brough,
1975; Mepham, 1972); when the level offair pay is worked out using
the latest statistical techniques and computers, the traditional fight
between capitalist and workers over division of resources between
profits and wages can be further depoliticised and seemingly
reduced to a technical problem. Expert statisticians from manage­
ment confront expert negotiators from union headquarters, and the
rank-and-file workers see their interests reduced to one factor in a
mathematical equation. Providing a theoretical critique of the
scientism and elitism of such statistical practices is one thing; but
their demystification—for example, by revealing the crucial
assumptions of the methods to the people who are their targets—is
also a practical activity.
b.

Radical re-use

While their arc many problems associated with existing
statistical practices, there are nevertheless many occasions when
radicals may need to use them—both in developing critical theory
and analysis, and in political struggle. In this book, for example,
Ridgers has demonstrated the utility of secondary analysis and the
rc-prescntalion of extant data for purposes of providing counter­
information. The radical rc-usc of existing statistical data and
techniques may be seen as taking three main forms: undermining
the validity of dominant ideologies; developing radical theory; and
applying these theories in political struggle.
In the first of these strategics, existing data are used to call into
question theories or viewpoints that are used to promote conserva­
tive, or to oppose radical, theory and practice. Counteracting racist
ideology is an important case in point. It is often argued by fascists
in Britain that immigration is the prime cause of the current
housing and unemployment crises; a component of much right­
wing Tory propaganda, such arguments arc fairly widely accepted.
Yet statistics can be used to undermine these arguments on their
own technical and ideological terms—by citing official data to show
that unemployment is not correlated with immigration over time,
and so on. The Anti-.Nazi League has made particularly effective
use of statistics in this way in their leaflets and other presentations.
Obviously, a committed fascist is not going to'be swayed by any
amount of statistics, but many people who unrcllcclively accept
racist politics on the basis of common-sense arguments about

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 367
overcrowding, strains on welfare services, etc., may be receptive to
such ‘technical’ criticism. This will apply to other political issues,
too, especially where apathy and reactionary attitudes largely
reflect the ability of the ideological apparatus of the mass media and
the state to maintain a vacuum of ignorance and half-truth. It is
particularly relevant as a strategy in circumstances where oppor­
tunities to develop and present a coherent alternative approach to
the issue involved are restricted, and especially where the re-use of
data may actually stimulate the interest and resources necessary to
do so.
Thus, this strategy may be crucial in winning support in an
immediate struggle, and may be an important first step to a more
thoroughgoing ideological critique. But this is all: as a strategy it is
limited. It criticises only the surface forms of bourgeois ideology
because it almost always operates within the terms set by that
ideology. While exposing the self-contradictions of an ideology can
be useful, there are frequently enough variants of the ideology and
opportunities for willing hands to elaborate them, that little is
achieved beyond the receding memory of a debating point won.
Where deeply entrenched views arc confronted, the debate may
easily become a mere technical argument which can be extended
endlessly. The many strands of conservatism and liberalism are like
the heads of the hydra: when chopped off, more are produced to
return to the attack. So this use of data in ‘technical’ criticism,
important though it is, is not enough. It certainly cannot substitute
for an attack on the hydra’s body, on the social roots of these
ideologies.
This brings.us to the second way in which statistics may be
re-used—in the furtherance of radical analysis. Radicals should be
able, in debates such as those discussed above on racism, to provide
alternative theoretical explanations of the causes of unemployment
and lack of housing, and to relate these to the statistics—drawing on
data such as the numbers of unemployed construction workers and
unoccupied houses. Like conservativesand liberals, they need data
to sup|xjrt, and indeed to improve, their theories and arguments,
which arc otherwise liable to remain unconvincing, inadequate, or
trapped at the level of pure abstraction.
The contribution statistics can make to this process of radical
analysis is not restricted to the study of particular aspects of social
conditions at a specific time—like the current levels of unemploy­
ment and homelessness; it can also be useful in making broad
historical analyses that encompass and situate these more specific
factors. In such an ‘epochal’ analysis of basic relations, or of social

368

Demrslifring Social Statistics

dynamics, over a long period of time—the prime example being
Marx’s attempt to understand the dynamics of the capitalist system
set out in Capital and elsewhere—data have important uses in
developing and illustrating theory. Thus the nature ofcrises within
capitalism might be illustrated by historical data on levels of
production, consumption and capital formation; or the long-term
tendency of the rate of profit to fall might be related to statistics on
the rate of return on industrial investment (see, for example,
Mandel, 1975, who attempts to provide an account of ‘late
capitalism’; and Hussain, 1977, for a critique ofhis use ofstatistics).
A ‘conjuncture!’ analysis, in contrast, involves attempting to
understand a specific situation at a particular time and place. Many
of Lenin’s writings focusingon Russia in the late nineteenth and early
twentieth centuries would fall into this category. Such analyses are
also useful in providing a radical analysis of contemporary Britain;
one might utilise them in seeking to understand the specific causes of
unemployment in a town in Northern England. Whilst this could,
without much difficulty, be seen in terms of the general recession
currently hitting all the world’s major capitalist economies, the
specific nature of the situation would also need to be taken into
account. For example, what is the industrial structure of the region,
how does it relate to the national (and international) economy, why
have particular local firms Ixren hit (are they less competitive than
other firms), etc.? Here, official statistics at both national and local
levels would be used to illustrate and advance the analysis, which
would of course also draw upon the more general forms of
explanation referred to previously.1’
The third way in which statistics can be re-used is in the
application of radical theory. Effective political struggle cannot be
carried out on an intuitive basis and the theoretical perspectives
that must inform such action often call for relevant statistical data.
Adequate information is important at the level of even the most
basic of trade-union activities—negotiating wages and conditions.
For ‘if today’s trade unionist is to bargain effectively, he [sic] must
match management’s statistical sources and techniques’ (cover­
blurb to Hedderwick, 1975). Both workersand their representatives
need information on what firms could pay (i.e. what profits they are
making), what similar firms are paying, what they are likely to be
offered, how much their wages have been cut by inflation, and so
on. Much of this information can be gained relatively easily from
official statistics (see Hyman and Price, this volume) and is often
available from trade-union research departments. For example,
the Lalxtur Research Department’s monthly publication labour

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 369
Research includes a digest of relevant statistics accompanied by
critical commentary. Its tabulations of recent official statistics are
particularly useful in this context.
The radical re-use of data is likewise often vital in developing
and promoting effective single-issue political campaigns. Take, for
example, the campaign to defend abortion rights in Britain co­
ordinated by the National Abortion Campaign (NAC). Here,
information was needed to support and promote the arguments put
forward in public debate. By demonstrating the great need for
abortions, using official statistics on operations performed, and by
showing that in the absence of state provision, many women would
risk a dangerous illegal operation, NAC was able to make more
effective interventions. Again, this is not to say that all one has to do
is to present the ‘facts’ and the argument is won—clearly the
committed anti-abortionist, for example, is unlikely to be moved by
NAC’s arguments, however well presented—but well-researched
and well-presented data was undoubtedly instrumental in winning
support for NAC.
Some radicals may argue that the re-use of statistics is a
strategy limited to reformist organisations like trade unions and
issue-oriented groups which typically take their task as improving
the lot of people within capitalism. Revolutionary political groups,
however, also need relevant and reliable information to back up
their political action dedicated to replacing capitalism with
socialism.15 As we have argued before, their success here ultimately
depends upon helping broad sections of those people most able to
accomplish this task (i.e. the working class, supported by and
supporting oppressed groups of all kinds) to realise that the root
source of their alienation and oppression lies in the capitalist social
system, and that their interests would be best expressed and served
in a socialist society. To do this, radicals need to understand how
capitalism works and how it might be changed, and to be able to
demonstrate that socialism is not a utopian dream but something
that can be created through a sustainable political programme.
(Indeed, if the human race is to survive in an age ofhigh technology,
the creation of a world socialist order is an urgent priority).
To understand what capital and the state are doing at any
particular time, a wide range ofsocial and economic data is needed.
Radicals need this information to link and to extend often
fragmented struggles across social boundaries such as those separat­
ing ethnic groups, factories, industries, regions and countries. If
unemployment is rising, for example, they need to know why,
where and by how much, in order to plan effective campaigns like

370

Drmwlijying Social Slalistics

that conducted by the Right to Work Campaign’ (Ridgers, this
volume, discusses sources of data for re-use in this way). An
understanding of international movements of capital, too, is vital
for assessing current and prospective changes in imperialism and
imperialist policy.
Overcoming the problems with radical rc-usc is sometimes
quite difficult. One of the most important and common tendencies
is for many oppositional groups (whether issue-oriented or revolu­
tionary) to reproduce a technical division of labour like that found
in capitalist organisations—with consequent inclinations to lapse
into elitism and reformism. Elitism follows from the all too frequent
emergence of a rigid hierarchical structure; those at the top of this
structure may become isolated from the broad mass of members
and supporters—often seeking to dictate their act ions through claims
to ‘correct’ ideas and expert skills acquired as a result of their
‘practice’, their advantages of information. This tendency is
especially marked in issue-oriented groups where—faced with
immediate practicalities—the experts who provide information
and advice may become little more than the unpaid (or even paid)
versions of the expert advocates who appear in planning inquiries
and on parliamentary committees. Furthermore, this situation too
easily fosters the illusion that such inquiries are actually an occasion
for democratic political debate, rather than for the exercise of class
power. Diverting resources into such areas, while sometimes
worthwhile, may thus come to l>e seen as a viable alternative to mass
activities to challenge this power, similar to the way wage­
bargaining has developed a system of co-opted experts at the reins
of the trade-union movement, who sometimes actively combat
rank-and-file militancy.
Certain steps can. however, Ire taken to prevent statistical
expertise reinforcing the reformism and elitism that dog the radical
left today. The technical skills that arc needed in making useful
analyses can, for example, be communicated—a ‘statistics for the
people’ approach need not require presenting statistics as objective
fact or neutral technique. Similarly,.there should be more critical
discussion of the often ridiculously naive way in which radical
groups use statistics in their arguments. So often in the socialist press
either a ‘conspiratorial plot’ is ‘exposed’ in the presentation of data
(‘these damning facts arc published in a drab official booklet to
prevent workers from finding them out') or analternativesct of'real’
figures is proposed to ‘prove a particular argument. The critique of
statistics must be accompanied by a minimum level of technical
competence if radical arguments are to be more than tub­

Sxial Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 371
thumping—but this competence need not be confined to a few
experts. Lessons might be drawn from the attempts of Claimants'
Unions to spread the skills of analysing welfare legislation and the
quantitative assessment of individuals’ needs as a way ofcountering
the reformist tendencies of issue-oriented groups.
However important the radical re-use strategy may be to
radicals, and however hard we may try to overcome its limitations,
there are problems that cannot, in general, be surmounted. In the
case of statistical data, the first problem is the extremely selective
nature of what is available. This, as analyses in this book have
shown, is for two main reasons. First, official statistics reflect
information needs, activities and priorities which often do not
coincide with those of radical critics of society. Second, certain
information is kept secret—supposedly, in the ‘national interest’.
Thus, on the one hand there is little information available on
poverty because its measurement and alleviation is not an impor­
tant state activity; and, on the other, information on the size and
budget of the political police is kept secret for reasons of‘national
security’. Compounding this problem of the lack of data is the
question of re-using data generated in one conceptual framework
with another set of conceptual categories (see Hindess, 1973; and
Triesman, 1974). The categories used to produce official statistics
are frequently inappropriate to radical analysis—for example (as
Hird and Irvine point out, this volume) the notion of wealth used
in British official statistics does not lend itself to a direct analysis
of the ownership of capital. Because of this, only relatively imprecise
estimates can be made. Additionally, there often arise technical
problems of disaggregating data—it is often difficult, for example,
to obtain reliable spatial breakdowns of official data. Sometimes
radicals can, through their involvement in ‘academic’ social
research, extend the range and improve the conceptualisation of
existing data; but often we simply have to make do with what is
available.
The problems involved in re-using statistical techniques are of
a rather different order. While descriptive or summary statistics are
often of use to radicals, the contribution of sophisticated mathe­
matical statistics and vast computer systems is more difficult to
imagine at present; and complicated systems are particularly prone
to the problems associated with expertise and the mystique of
science (see above, and McLean, this volume). Apart from the
restrictive and undialectical assumptions about causality underly­
ing much of mathematical statistics, access to the use of such
techniques is typically limited by their cost and the technical

372

Demystifying Social Statistics

skills needed to produce or interpret analyses by such means.16
Sometimes, then, we may find that it is impossible to achieve
satisfactory analyses and useful results on the basis of existing
statistics. In order to provide statistical backing to a particular
struggle, and to overcome the dominant social relations and
practices of contemporary statistics, we may have to consider the
use and production of new data and techniques.

c.

'Socialist' statistics

To accept the notions of‘radical’ and ‘socialist’ statistics is to
accept that contemporary statistical practices are to a great extent
determined by capitalist social relations and interests, and that
these are embedded as much in the concepts and techniques of
statistics, as in its products and practices.
To make any significant changes in the nature and scope of
official data will require a thorough transformation of the state; and
the inspiration (not to mention the opportunity) to transform
statistical techniques and practices will similarly require the
commitment of a large number of people to a radical trans­
formation of society. So, to develop a socialist statistics without
changing the society of which the practice of statistics is a part is
possible only to a very limited degree. Nevertheless, to accept that
statistical practices are more than mere mechanical reflections of
economic and ideological factors, is to accept that we can begin to
fashion them into a tool to facilitate social transformation. We
might more correctly term this radical statistics—that is, the critique,
re-use and the limited transformation of statistical concepts,
techniques, data and practices. We can, for example, go beyond the
mere re-use of existing data and produce new statistics tailored
explicitly to the needs of socialist politics.
In the case of poverty, for example, the Child Poverty Action
Group has produced data on areas where official statistics are either
sparse or non-existent. Similarly the Low Pay Unit has produced
data on the earnings of workers below the tax threshold, who arc not
included in official statistics since they earn too little to pay income
tax.17 While the surveys used here are necessarily limited in scale,
through lack of resources, they can be useful information sources for
radicals as well as for more immediate reformist strategies. Radical
journalists and academic social scientists have also often produced
important new data through their work—on the composition of
ruling groups, for example (e.g. studies such as those reported in
Crewe, 1974; Stanworth and Giddens, 1974; and Urry and”'
Wakeford, 1973).

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 373

While the potential for producing new data is significant, this
strategy is limited by the enormous resources typically required for
large-scale data production. One way of partially overcoming this
problem involves striving to achieve certain changes in the data
produced by and/or available from existing institutions. At one
extreme, data may be ‘leaked’ by sympathetic civil servants or
politicians; at the other, mass movements and pressure groups can
press for the disclosure of information—parliamentary questions
may be useful here. A longer term strategy is, of course, to struggle
for more freedom of information and the removal of laws and
sanctions limiting its availability (such as the Official Secrets Act in
Britain).
Wc should also investigate the possibility of developing new
statistical techniques for producing and procuring data. We
referred earlier to the problems radicals encounter in adopting a
traditional division of labour and reproducing the hierarchical
expert-client relations when using the techniques of mathematical
statistics. While the problems of overcoming such barriers are
enormous—given the repugnance most people feel towards even
simple statistical techniques—certain steps can be taken by stimu­
lating changes in the wider research process (of which the use of
statistics is one part). Attempts have been made to reconstruct
investigative techniques such as the social survey, Carr-Hill (1973),
for example, attempted to transcend the limitations of the conven­
tional survey—which typically counterposes expert enquirers
against isolated, passive informants. He developed in a totally
‘biased’ fashion a survey on education with the assistance of people
in his town, employing it as much as a political consciousnessraising tool as a source of data for academic analysis. His interview
situation was intended to stimulate respondents into questioning
the relevance of their schooling to their current living patterns and
appears to have achieved some success, as indicated both by the
quality of the answers received, and the recruitment of some of the
respondents into a discussion group on educational issues. Other
groups have also modified survey techniques for radical purposes,
similarly turning the survey into a much more interactive instru­
ment, in which information flows between the survey designer and
the respondent, and among groups of respondents. The prime
example of this is probably the ‘Workers’ Inquiry into the Motor
Industry’ (1WC, 1977), in which background material on develop­
ments in the motor industry as a whole was provided to local union
branches, along with questions designed to elicit their own
experiences.18

374

Dcmntifring Social Statistics

While radical approaches to statistical technique may have
much potential, they are typically limited in applicability. For
reasons outlined elsewhere in this book, people rarely consider it
worth their while, or even within their abilities, to attempt to
comprehend statistical analysis, and it may take considerable effort
to persuade them otherwise. Even ‘radicalised’ social surveys,
which seek to reduce the distinction between researcher and
subject, require that people see how their involvement in the study
can be of benefit to them. Time and effort are required for such
activities, and people are often rightly suspicious of the interests that
lie behind social research. Even when they are convinced that
statistical approaches are of practical use to a particular task, there
is still the danger, without a political critique ofstatistics, that people
may believe that ‘highly technical’ and ‘value-free’ devices are best
left for sympathetic experts to worry about.
A different set of needs for statistics under socialism, and even
in a heightened struggle for socialism, will generate different
demands on statistical data and techniques, and different condi­
tions for the development of new approaches. In the short term the
development and application of new data and techniques can in
principle contribute to the greater democratisation of skills and to
undermining the mystique of statistics, thus helping raise levels of
consciousness about the adequacy of radical statistical analyses. But
these are likely to be significant tools of radical practice only to the
extent that they can be based upon the growth of radical currents in
society—those, for example, exerting pressure on the state to
disclose information, or stimulating workers to consider the possi­
bility of participating in the planning of their firm’s future. Once
again, we see that the practice of scientists is dependent to a large
extent, in terms of both orientation and chances of success, upon
w ider social developments. Thus, any strategy of‘radical’ statistics
can hope for lasting achievements (other, perhaps, than the
incorporation of alternative approaches into the dominant statis­
tical tradition) only by being developed as part of a wider socialist
practice; that is within and for an overall programme of social
revolution. In the process, it will have been transformed into an
explicitly ‘socialist’ statistics.
5.

Beyond ‘radical statistics’

Perhaps, a ‘socialist statistics’ can be developed only in a
society undergoing urgent, active transformation to socialism.-But
perhaps, too, the notion of ‘statistics’ as a discrete, specialised realm
of human knowledge would be increasingly problematic in a

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Sacncc 375
transitional society in which, with moves towards the abolition of
class relations, the old division of labour would be under attack.
Such speculation suggests not only that radical statisticians need to
work with the socialist movement but that they need to work within
it. In the same way as the battle against contemporary statistical
practices should not remain the political preserve of statisticians
only, so should statisticians involve themselves in other wider
political struggles.
Of course, statisticians, like other scientists, have specific
opportunities available to them to exercise pressures for change
other than those more generally available—through both their
expert knowledge and their place in the overall social and tech­
nical division of labour. There is certainly a role for scientists'
and engineers’ organisations in dealing directly and sensitively
with S and T-related issues. These include trade unions as
well as organisations such as BSSRS and the Radical Statistics
Group.
While in issue-oriented groups it has often been difficult to
overcome the fragmentation of political struggles, active work in
trade unions provide radical scientists and engineers with the
opportunity to press for the recognition and acceptance of their
communality of interests with other workers. But they need to
recognise the problems here—unions often treat their role as
bargaining for marginal improvements and thus end up disavow ing
‘political action’. It is easy to become restricted to such reformist
strategies, to do no more than press for higher wages for ‘elite'
scientific workers, as is largely the case in ASTMS. This is not to
belittle the achievements of such organisations: it is often possible to
win significant political gains without challenging directly the
underlying framework of capitalist society, and these may them­
selves facilitate the development of socialist politics at a later time.
However, the flexibility of capitalist society should not be over­
estimated: concessions are far more readily granted in some periods
than at others (the current ‘cuts’ and increased political repression
being typical of the withdrawal of ‘welfare rights' and ‘civil
liberties’ in recessionary conditions); and these concessions are
typically granted on terms which render them subservient to capital
(e.g. as hard-won educational provisions are applied to training a
docile workforce, so the right to form unions becomes a right to
belong to a bureaucratised and largely incorporated organisation).
Nevertheless, unions of scientific and technical workers are impor­
tant both as agents of and sites for this struggle—to defend existing
rights and to fight for their extension.

376

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 377

Demystifying Social Statistics

But many scientists and engineers have realised that it is not
enough to attempt to reform S and T from within. They have
learned from the limited achievements of the SR approach to S and
T and its incorporation into the establishment worldview. More
than this is necessary’ if the ever-more manifest scale and scope of
science-backed threats to human existence is to be confronted; if the
increasing role of scientism is to be challenged; and if the declining
conditions and opportunities in scientific and technical work are to
be halted. And often they have learned from the struggles of other
workers, and from the themes and political perspectives forged and
sharpened in these struggles. The student and counter-culture
movements have played a role, if a brief one, in raising public
debate about these issues. But what is most clear is that the
connections with socialist currents must be strengthened and
deepened—otherwise a ‘radical science’ or‘radical statistics’ islikely
to remain a dream or at best an arcane scholastic discipline. This
might have been understandable when radicalisation seemed an
impossible or far distant prospect in the early 1960s, but it is
irresponsible to settle for dreams or scholasticism in the turbulence of
the late 1970s.
In general, statisticians have hardly been at the forefront of
the radical science movement—for reasons connected both with the
nature of their subject and the sorts of employment they typically
obtain. But with the increasing importance of statistics in capitalist
society, statistical issues are likely to become more overtly political
at the same time as the statisticians’ work becomes less rewarding.
In such circumstances, radical perspectives on statistics may well be
developed and taken up more seriously. A significant contribution
to the practical critique and transformation of statistics (and
science) might then be made in an organised way by statisticians
linking the specific issues with which they deal to the wider political
and economic processes which determine, and are in turn shaped
by, them. The prospects for a significant and lasting contribution to
the creation of a new society being made in this way depend upon
the integration of the work of radical statisticians—and social
scientists using statistics—with that of the radical political organisa­
tions of the working class and oppressed groups. ‘Radical statistics’ is
at best a way-station in this task: radical statisticians may suc­
ceed in quantifying-the world in new ways, but what really counts is
whether they succeed in helping to change it.

Notes
1. Our focus here will be on critical approaches and strategies as they have been
developed within Western societies. Political strugglesoverS and T in ‘Third World’
countries, and the analyses that have been developed in these contexts, are
important issues, but would inevitably demand lengthy separate treatment.
2. For a bibliography of anti-science, arcadian and other responses to industrial
society, see Boyle and Harper (1976).
3. Information about Green Bans in Britain may be obtained from the Green Ban
Action Committee, 77 School Road, Hall Green, Birmingham B28 8JG; develop­
ments on this front are also reported in the Newsletter of the Socialist Environment
and Resources Association, who can be contacted c/o Tidys Cottage, School Lane,
West Kingsdown, Kent; they are sometimes also covered in AT magazines like
Undercurrents.
4. This aspect of AT is closely related to the development of interest in ‘appropriate
technology*, a term used by development researchers in particular, to refer to the
need to create products and production technologies for the ‘Third World’ which
may be markedly different from those used in the West. The importation of techniques
and products by multinational corporations has often merely exacerbated patterns
of underdevelopment created in the ex-colonies. Instead of their capital-intensive
technology, it is held that technologies consonant with the resource, skill and labour
endowments of underdeveloped countries are needed—that is, lower-level and
labour-intensive technologies (often called ‘intermediate’ technologies) are more
appropriate to the ‘Third World’. However, it is likely that, without socialism in these
countries, ‘appropriate technologies’ will only be developed along the lines most
profitable for local capital—and thus do little about local employment needs
and environmental problems. Likewise, products which can meet the needs of
the poverty-stricken masses are required, rather than luxuries which serve no
purpose other than the consolidation of inequalities. Carr (n.d.) provides an
annotated bibliography of the literature on appropriate technology, see also Boyle
and Harper (1976), Dickson (1974), Disney (1976), Jequier (1976).
5. Obtainable from: Radical Statistics Group, c/o BSSRS, 9 Poland Street, London
W1V 3DG.
6. Sec, for example, the RSG Health Group’s useful publications, It'Aosr Priorities?
(1976) and In Defence of the NHS (1977).
7. When these problems threaten the stability of capitalist society, the state is called
in to mop up the worst of them. Sec Miles and Irvine, section 3 of this volume.
8. More comprehensive accounts of the development of industrial technology are
provided by Bra verman, 1974; Dickson, 1974; Gorz, 1976b; Marglin, 1974/75; (see
also the articles by the Brighton Labour Process Group, 1977; Coombs, 1978); and,
of course, by Marx, 1954, on which all these studies draw.
9. Sec Kitson, 1971, for the arguments of a ‘counter-insurgency expert’ as to why
these developments are necessary to protect the liberal, democratic state; and, for
informed critical discussion as to why there is more behind their development and
use than a concern with protecting ‘democratic’ freedom, see Bunyan, 1976; Ackroyd
et al., 1977; and various issues of State Research Bulletin—which is obtainable from
State Research, 9 Poland Street, London W1V 3DG.
10. For more detailed treatments see Basalla, 1968; Bernal, 1939; Bukharin cl al.
1971; Mendelsohn et al., 1977.
11. Both groups can be contacted at 9 Poland Street, London W1V 3DG. BSSRS
publishes the quarterly journal Science for People, and the RSJ collective Radical
Science Journal. In addition to these two issue-oriented groups, a number of the left
political organisations are beginning to take S and T up as important problems. The

378

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 379

Demystifying Social Statistics

Socialist Workers Party has a science group, as docs the Communist Party (which
publishes the journal Science Bulletin'). The Internationa! Marxist Group runs a
monthly column on S and T by BSSRS in its weekly newspaper Socialist Challenge.
12. Available from BSSRS Work Hazards Group, 9 Poland Street, London W1V
3DG.
13. BSSRS, for example, held a conference in 1975 on the theme ‘Is there a socialist
science?'. Both they and RSJ have also held several scries of seminars on the broad
area of science and socialism. The American group ‘Science for the People* sent a
delegation in 1973 to study Chinese S and T. Their interesting report is presented in
the book China: Science Walks on Two Legs (1974).
14. The Union for Radical Political Economics (URPE, 1978) has produced a
reader which analyses in considerable detail the consequences of the current crisis for
different groups of workers, for various economic sectors, for community issues and
political organisations, in the United States. In Britain, the Community Develop­
ment Project (CDP, 1977a, b, c) has produced valuable studies ofindustrial decline,
housing problems and the land and property markets; various working groups
associated with the Conference of Socialist Economists have been working on related
issues (e.g. CSE, 1976). Economists and geographers have so far been at the forefront
of these attempts to use quantitative data in radical analysis and action, and their
journals—Antipode, Capital and Class, Review of Radical Political Economics—present
material that is often of interest to all critical social scientists.
15. We here refer to those political groups attempting to create a socialist society
which argue that this will entail fundamental changes being made in the political,
social and economic structure of contemporary society, and that this will be achieved
only through revolutionary struggle extending well beyond parliamentary processes,
and will require establishing a new level of democracy as well as changing the
ownership of the means of production. Examples of the voluminous recent literature
here include Blackbum (1977), Miliband (1977). The classic Marxist positions were
most notably developed by Marx, Engels, Lenin, Trotsky, Luxemburg and Gramsci.
16. There are exceptions. One is the use of the computerised analysis to demonstrate
the viability of an egalitarian world society by Herrera et al. (1976), which might,
even so, be seen as simply using the mystique of the computer against more
reactionary analyses which had traded on this mystique. Another is Kidron’s (1974)
study of unproductive labour in the US—where the complexity of the material made
computer analysis invaluable. As well as the contributions to this book, other
discussions of the epistemological basis of mathematical techniques in social science
may be found in Wilier and Wilier (1973), Zuliaida (1974) and Sayer (in press).
17. Somewhere between the critique of statistics and the production of new statistics
lies the sort of approach that has been used by Cowley Leyland workers in
developing their own cost of living index, or in the French trade union price index
(Plant, 1978). Here, workers’ representatives have themselves monitored the effects
of inflation, in order to strengthen arguments behind wage claims.
18. The Lucas Aerospace Workers’ campaign,- mentioned earlier, also involved
extensive structured interaction between workers and coordinating shop stewards.
In the Vickers Workers’ campaign, similar production of ‘data’ from the shopfloor
has been linked to more conventional analyses of the state ofthc industry (sec Elliot et
al., 1977; Bcynon and Wainwright, 1979).

Bibliography
Ackroyd, C., Margolis, K., Rosenhead, J., and Shallice, T., 1977, The Technology of
Political Control, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Bannister, D., and Fransella, F., 1971, Inquiring Man, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Bannister, D., and Mair, J. M. M., 1968, The Evaluation ofPersonal Constructs, London,
Academic Press.
Basalla, G. (ed.), 1968, The Rise of Modem Science: Internal or External Factors?, Lexing­
ton, Mass., D.C. Heath.
Bernal, J. D., 1939, The Social Function of Science, London, Routledge.
Bcynon, H., and Wainwright, H., 1979, The Workers’ Report on Vickers, London, Pluto
Press.
Blackbum, R. (ed.), 1972, Ideology in Social Science, London, Fontana.
Blackbum, R. (cd.), 1977, Revolution and Class Struggle, London, Fontana
Bookchin, M., 1970, Post-Scarcity Anarchism, New York, Ramparts.
Boyle, G., and Harper, P., 1976, Radical Technology, London, Wildwood House.
Bravcrrnan, H., 1974, Labour and Monopoly Capital, New York, Monthly Review Press.
Brighton Labour Process Group, 1977, ‘The capitalist labour process', Capital and
Class, no. 1, pp. 3-26.
BSSRS, 1974, The Sew Technology of Repression: lessonsfrom Sorthem Ireland, London,
BSSRS.
Bukharin, N. I., et. al., 1971, Science at the Crossroads, London, Frank Cass.
Bunyan, 'I'., 1976, The History and Practice of the Political Police in Britain, London.
Julian Friedmann.
Carr, M., n.d., Economically Appropriate Technologies fur Developing Countries, London.
Intermediate Technology Publications.
Carr-Hill. R. A., 1973, Population and Educational Services: Preliminary Report on a Social
Survey, Geneva, UNESCO (reference PDEP/Ref. 7).
CDP, 1977a, Profits Against Houses, London, CDP.
CDP, 1977b, The Costs of Industrial Change. London, CDP.
CDP, 1977c, Gilding the Ghetto, London, CDP.
Cooley, M., 1976, ‘Contradictions of science and technology in the productive pro­
cess’, in Rose and Rose (eds.), 1976a, below.
Coombs, R., 1978, ‘Labour and monopoly capital’, Sew Left Review, no. 107 pp
75-96.
CSE, 1976, Housing and Class in Britain, London, CSE (55 Mount Pleasant, London,
WC1.)
Crewe, I. (ed.), 1974, The First British Political Sociology Yearbook, London. Croom
Helm.
Dickson, D., 1974, Alternative Technology and the Politics of Technical Change, London.
Fontana.
Disney. R., 1976, ‘Irrelevant technology* and ‘Who does what in l.TUndercurrents.
no. 18, pp. 8-9, 11.
The Ecologist (eds.), 1970, A Blueprint for Survival, Harmondsworth. Penguin.
Elliott, D., 1977, The Lucas Aerospace Workers' Campaign, Young Fabian pamphlet no.
. 46, London, Fabian Society.
Elliott, D., and Elliott, R., 1976, The Control of Technology, London, Wvkeham.
Elliott, D., et. al., 1977, Alternative Hod for Military Industries, London, Richardson
Institute for Conflict and Peace Research.
Eysenck, H. J., 1973, The Inequality of Man, London, Temple Smith.
Fairweather, H., 1976, ‘Sex diflcrenccs in cognition’. Cognition, vol. 4. pp. 231-280
Foucault, M., 1970, The Order of Things, London, Tavistock.

380

Demystifying Social Statistics

Gorz, A., 1976a, ‘On the class character of science and scientists’, in Rose and Rose
(eds.), 1976a, below.
Gorz, A., 1976b, The Division of Labour, Hassocks, Sussex, Harvester Press.
Griffiths, D., and Saraga, E., 1979, ‘Sex differences in cognitive abilities: a sterile
field ofenquiry’, in G. Boden, M. Fuller and O. Hartnett (eds.), SexRole Stereotyping, London, Tavistock.
Hall, S., and Jefferson, T. (eds.), 1976, Resistance Through Rituals, London,
Hutchinson.
Harper, P., 1973, ‘Transfiguration among the windmills’, Undercurrents, no. 5, pp. 3-

4.
Heddcrwick, K., 1975, Statistics for Bargainers, London, Arrow.
Herrera, A. (cd.), 1976, Catastrophe or New Society?, Canada, 1DRC.
Hindess, B., 1973, The Use of Official Statistics in Sociology, London, Macmillan.
Horowitz, I., 1967, The Rise and Fall of Project Camelot, Cambridge, Mass., MIT Press.
Huff, D., 1973, How to Lie with Statistics, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Hussain, A., 1977, ‘Crises and tendencies ofcapita 1 ism’, Economy andSociely, vol 6, pp.
436-460.
Hutt, C., 1972, Males and Females, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Hyman, R., and Brough, I., 1975, Soria/ Values and Industrial Relations, Oxford, Basil
Blackwell.
Institute for Workers’ Control (IWC), 1977, ‘Document: A workers’ enquiry into the
motor industry’, Capital and Class, no. 2, pp. 102-118.
Jequier, N., 1976, Appropriate Technology: Problems and Promises, Paris, OECD.
Jungk, R., 1964, Brighter than a Thousand Suns, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Karnin, L. J., 1977, The Science and Politics of !Q_, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Kidron, M., 1974, ‘Waste: US, 1970’, in M. Kidron, Capitalism and Theory, London,
Pluto Press.
Kitson, F., 1971, Low Intensity Operations, London. Faber.
Leary, T., 1970, The Politics of Ecstasy, London, Paladin.
Lewontin, R., and Levins, R., 1976, ‘The problem of Lysenkoism’, in Rose and Rose
(eds.), 1976b, below.
Mandel, E., 1975, Late Capitalism, London, New Left Books.
Marcuse, H., 1964, One-Dimensional Man, Boston, Beacon Press.
Marcuse, H., 1969, Eros and Civilisation, London, Sphere.
Marglin, S., 1974/5, ‘What do bosses do? The origins and functions of hierarchy in
capitalist production’, Review of Radical Political Economics, no. 6, pp. 60-110
and no. 7, pp. 30-55.
Marx, K., Capital, 3 vols.; English translations: London, Lawrence & Wishart 1954;
1957; 1960; also Harmondsworth, Pcnguin/Ncw Left Books 1976, vol. 1.
Mendelsohn, E., Weingart, P., and Whitley, R. (eds.), 1977, The Social Production of
Scientific Knowledge, Dodrecht, Holland, D. Reidel.
Mepham. ]., 1972, ‘The theory of ideology’ in Capital', Radical Philosophy, no. 2,
pp. 12-19.
Miliband, R., 1977, Marxism and Politics, London, Oxford University Press.
Mills, C. W., 1961, The Sociological Imagination, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Musgrove, F., 1974, Ecstasy and Holiness, London, Methuen.
Nobile, P., 1971, The Con III Controversy, New York, Pocket Books.
'■
Noton, M., etal., 1974, ‘The systems analysis of conflict’, Futures, vol. 6, pp. 114-132.
Nuttall. J., 1970, Bomb Culture, London. Paladin.
Pateman. T. (cd.). 1972, Counter-Course, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Pearson, E. S., 1973, ‘Some historical reflections on the introduction of statistical
methods in industry’. The Statistician, vol. 22, pp. 165-179.
Phillips, L., 1973. Bayesian Statistics for Social Scientists, London, Nelson.

Social Statistics: Towards a Radical Science 381
Plant, J. J., 1978, ‘A workers’ cost of living index’, Radical Statistics Settsletter, no. 12,
P-3.
Poiiicr, D. J., 1977, ‘Econometric methodology in radical economics’. American Econ­
omic Review, vol 67, pp. 393-399.
Radical Statistics Health Group, 1976, Whose Priorities?, London, RSG.
Radical Statistics Health Group, 1977, In Defence of the SHS, London, RSG.
Reich, C. A., 1970, The Greening of America, New York, Random House.
Rcichmann, W. J., 1970, Use and Abuse of Statistics, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
Rose, H., and Rose, S. (eds.), 1976, (a) The Political Economy of Science, and (b) The
Radicalisalion ofScience, London, Macmillan (jointly titled Ideology of/ in the nat­
ural sciences).
Rose, S., 1976, ‘Scientific racism and ideology: the IQ,racket from Gallon tojensen’.
in Rose and Rose (eds.), 1976a, above.
Rosenhead, J., 1972, ‘The BSSRS: three years on’, ,\eu SHeniisl, 20 April 1972, pp.
134-136.
Roszak, T., 1968, The Slaking of a Counter-Culture, London, Faber.
Roszak, T., 1973, Where the Wasteland Ends, New York, Anchor.
Sayer, R., A., in press, 'Some comments on mathematical modelling in regional
science and political economy', Antipode.
Science for the People, 1974, China: Science Walks on Two Legs, New York. Avon.
Science for the People, 1977, Biology as a Social Weapon, Minneapolis, Burgess.
Shaw, M., 1975, Marxism and Social Science, London, Pluto Press.
Silber, I., 1970, The Cultural Revolution: A Marxist Analysis, New York. Times Change.
Sohn-Rethcl, A., 1978, Intellectual and Manual Labour, London, Macmillan.
Stan worth, P., and Giddens, A. (eds.), 1974, Elites and Power in British Society, Lon­
don, Cambridge University Press.
Triesman, D., 1974, ‘The radical use of official data’, in N. Armistcad (ed.), Recon­
structing Social Psychology, Harmondsworth, Penguin.
URPE, 1978, IS Capitalism in Crisis, New York, L’RPE (Room 901, 41 Union
Square West, New York).
Urry, J., and Wakeford, J. (eds.), 1973, Power in Britain, London, Heinemann.
Werskey, G., 1975, ‘Making socialists of scientists: whose side is history on?’. Radical
Science Journal no. 2/3, pp. 13-50.
Werskey, G., 1978, The Visible College, London, Allen Lane.
Wilier, D-, and Wilier, J., 1973, Systematic Empiricism: Critique ofa Pseudo-Science, Eng­
lewood Cliffs, N.J., Prentice-Hall.
Young, B., 1978, ’Getting started on Lysenkoism’, Radical Science journal, no. 6/7 pp
81-105.
Ziman.J., 'The Council for Science and Society’, Bullelinofthe Atomic Scientists, vol. 31,
no. 2, pp. 18-20.
Zubaida, S., 1974. ‘What is scientific sociology?'. Economy and Society, vol. 4.

Position: 307 (8 views)