Geometry! For over two thousand years it was one of the criteria for recognition as an educated person to be acquainted with the subject of geometry. Euclidean geometry, of course.

In the golden era of Greek civilization around 400 BC, geometry was studied rigorously and put on a firm theoretical basis – for intellectual satisfaction, the intrinsic beauty of many geometrical results, and the utility of the subject. For example, it was written above the door of Plato's Academy ‘Let no-one ignorant of Geometry enter here!’ Indeed, Archimedes is said to have used the reflection properties of a parabola to focus sunlight on the sails of the Roman fleet besieging Syracuse and set them on flame.

For two millennia the children of those families sufficiently well-off to be educated were compelled to have their minds trained in the noble art of rigorous mathematical thinking by the careful study of translations of the work of Euclid. This involved grasping the notions of axioms and postulates, the drawing of suitable construction lines, and the careful deduction of the necessary results from the given facts and the Euclidean axioms – generally in two-dimensional or three-dimensional Euclidean space (which we shall denote by ℝ2 and ℝ3, respectively). Indeed, in the 1700s and 1800s popular publications such as The Lady's and Gentleman's Diary published geometric problems for the consideration of gentlefolk at their leisure.

My approach to the subject of causality has been self-consciously syncretic, drawing from many currents of scholarship. Yet readers may wonder if I have covered this ground in a truly comprehensive fashion. Indeed, several topics of current interest are treated schematically, or not at all, in the foregoing chapters.

In this chapter, which functions as a coda to the third part of the book, I briefly review approaches to causal inference that seem, at least on the face of things, anomalous. This includes causal-process observations, causes-of-effects, necessary/sufficient arguments, and qualitative comparative analysis (QCA). As many of these topics overlap, each of the following sections builds on the previous.

The Little Prince articulates the invidious, de-humanizing element inherent in any attempt to measure, and thereby compare, human beings. “Treating them like statistics,” as the phrase goes. Abhorrent though it may seem (and surely, the measurement of intimate material and emotional states is an act of extreme hubris), there may also be good reasons for measuring, say, the incomes of families in a community.

Having laid out a framework of tasks, strategies, and criteria that define social science methodology, I now want to discuss how this framework maps onto the “paradigm wars” that have roiled the disciplines of social science over the past half-century.

For outsiders, as well as for many insiders, the distinctions evident across disciplines, methods, and schools are paramount. We sit at separate tables. Yet there are also many things that we share. Moreover, there is little profit in emphasizing our differences, given that the presumed objective of scientific deliberation is, ultimately, to reach consensus. Incommensurability is not conducive to a productive interchange of ideas. If taken seriously, it prohibits knowledge cumulation. Consequently, this book has emphasized the methodological coherence of the social sciences.

Preface

The field of social science methodology has been hyperactive over the past several decades. Methods, models, and paradigms have multiplied and transformed with dizzying speed, fostering a burst of interest in a heretofore moribund topic. One sign of the growing status of this field is the scholarly vituperation it inspires. Terms such as interpretivism, rational choice, poststructuralism, constructivism, randomization, positivism, and naturalism are not just labels for what we do; they are also fighting words.

Meanwhile, venerable debates over power, class, and status seem to have subsided. It is not that we no longer talk about these subjects, or care about them. Yet there appears to be greater consensus within the academy on normative political issues than there was, say, in the 1960s and 1970s. We are all social democrats now – for better, or for worse. Debates continue, especially over the role of race, gender, and identity. However, they do not seem to be accompanied by a great deal of rancor. Thus, over the past few decades methodological disagreements have largely displaced disagreements over substantive issues as points of conflict at conferences, at faculty meetings, and on editorial boards. Methodology, not ideology, seems to define the most important cleavages within the social sciences today.