Is Sociology the Same Discipline in Russia and France? A Brief Political Micro-History

Alexander Bikbov

In 2007, students at Moscow State University’s sociology department staged a rebellion against their department administration. This was probably the most remarkable event in the history of Russian sociology after the decree “On Advancing Marxist-Leninist Sociology’s Role in Solving the Key Problems of Soviet Society” finally gave the discipline fully legal status in 1988. The almost two decades between those two events were marked by a lack of intellectual breakthroughs that would have generated a noticeable professional, interdisciplinary, or public response. Against all expectations, professional observers contributed little to our understanding of post-Soviet society, even though sociologists themselves claimed that the late 1980s and early 1990s were an ideal period in which to observe social transformation. While they were publicly critical of the Soviet administrative command system, in private sociologists would often mourn the loss of the passion and social utility that they said had previously characterized the discipline—the pioneering spirit, the sweeping scale of the union-wide opinion polls, and the national importance that was attached to their results in spite of (or due to) official censorship.

The idea that (Soviet) sociology was intellectually unsound was a tenet of all early plans to revise its methods and ethics. In particular, such plans for reform were proposed in Vladimir Iadov’s (1987) draft Professional Codex for Sociologists. By the mid-1990s, however, open professional debate on this topic had died down. With a good dose of self-irony that gradually yielded to earnest conviction, former Soviet sociologists accepted the idea that their main responsibility was now to their clients. That sociology was to be a type of service had been part of its definition from the moment of its birth in the latter decades of the Soviet Union, when sociologists were instructed to design their research projects “in collaboration with the administration and community of the enterprises and institutions that are to be studied” (Osipov 1977: 124)[1].

Unsurprisingly, when the discipline was re-established in the early 1990s, students taking introductory classes at the newly created sociology departments were taught that sociology is a science whose tasks are determined by its clients[2]. The only change was that the identity of the principal client shifted inexorably from an imaginary “public” or “community” to various “administrations.”

This view of the discipline had far more than just technical consequences for its structure and the meanings it produced. It redefined its cognitive functions. Soviet sociology had never engaged in a public critique of either the macro-political regime or local forms of domination and inequality. The political changes of the early 1990s seemed to give it a chance to do just that. But once the service function was reasserted as the dominant feature of sociology, this chance was reduced to naught. The most self-critical statements of the early 1990s became self-fulfilling prophecies for the 2000s: Russian sociologists’ theoretical interests were out of touch with international debates; they espoused a straightforward moral prescriptivism; and they used a“Soviet” model of empirical research that was essentially in place by the mid- to late 1970s[3].

Over the course of a decade, starting in the mid-1990s, the question of sociology’s intellectual raison d’être was institutionally suppressed[4]. Sociologists abstained both from public pronouncements about the conditions and meaning of their work and from internal critique and reflection. The student rebellion of 2007 provoked outrage by bringing these repressed questions back into the public spotlight and causing a media storm before there had been a professional debate. Today it is doubly difficult to engage in critical reflection, because this suppression and the establishment of a delicate intra-disciplinary consensus required sociologists to maintain yet another defense mechanism: a sense of uniqueness that was shared by both vehement critics of Soviet/Russian sociology (who considered its state “irremediable”) and its no less ardent official champions (who talked about Russia’s “special path”).

A return to a properly sociological auto-critique of sociology requires that we adopt a different descriptive perspective and standard of evaluation. That, in turn, is impossible without first establishing an adequate chronological framework and level of analysis.

The Chronological and Topographical Framework

Like any other intellectual institution, sociology is not just a collection of knowledge. It is a discipline in the broad sense of the word, a variety of micro-politics with its own specific means of struggle, control, and production of authority[5]. It generates chains of knowledge which, through the mechanism of academic careers, are correlated with the regime of “big” politics. In other words, sociology is not just a place of knowledge reproduction; it is also a force field. To understand its place in the contemporary configuration, we must therefore describe it in several interconnected dimensions: 1) as a set of routines institutionalized in the academic world[6], reflecting the current state of the forces at work therein and forming a complex balance with the government bureaucracy; 2) as a set of dominant positions occupied by the discipline’s representatives in public political (or, more broadly, discursive) controversies; 3) as a method of appropriating new cultural resources that are available from within the discipline, as well as the relevant means of establishing and reaffirming disciplinary boundaries.

The perspective I am proposing steers clear of exceptionalism and should thus make it possible to compare sociology in its post-Soviet configuration with the Soviet period, and to contrast both with the pre-revolutionary situation. It also allows international comparison by circumventing the Russian complex of national inimitability. In a long-term perspective, focusing on these parameters makes it possible to ask whether Russian, French, or American sociology in any one period are different national versions of the same discipline, as postulated by various theoretical histories of sociology.

I shall use the term “intellectual complex” to designate the interplay between meaning and power within a discipline. Sociology’s place in intellectual space may be seen as determined by a tactical situation where institutional routines sustain the dominant set of intellectual preferences, and emerging intellectual divergences may in turn sometimes be institutionalized and made dominant. Thus the first step in any critical analysis of sociology as a location of power and meaning must be to describe the basic configuration of power: the main institutional elements that discipline power and its producers, as well as the main political dispositions that give the products of the discipline the forms in which they are most likely to circulate publicly. This scale of analysis may seem too vast for a “mere” analysis of the state of the discipline over the past twenty years. It would indeed be so if my task was to describe Russian sociology as an isolated case. In a previous paper, I have tried to provide such a description (Bikbov and Gavrilenko 2002; 2003), demonstrating some of the mechanisms of reproduction of the discipline’s dominant theoretical horizon after the dissolution of the Soviet regime which gave birth to this type of theory. However, the usual conceptual tools, which are in turn derived from the discipline’s local micropolitical state, do not suffice to describe contemporary Russian sociology as a national version of the science of sociology. Analyzing one’s “own” discipline as a science entails locating the reality of the Russian intellectual complex of “sociology” in an international frame of reference, and in particular correlating it with the West European situation. To establish this frame of reference for Russian sociology, we need to determine the microstructures of power that shape the content of sociological practice in each national version. We must focus not so much on theoretical distinctions as on dominant and marginal institutional routines (and the practical categories associated with each of them). In order to do so, I shall contrast the Russian case with the exemplary case of French sociology.

Sociology as a Political Choice of the Belle époque: The Republican/Anti-Monarchical Disposition

French sociology was institutionalized at the turn of the 20th century by a group of French non-conformists led by Emile Durkheim as a university discipline that asserted its legitimacy above all against philosophy (Karady 1979; Ringer 1992: 283–4). However, the cognitive structures of sociology, that child of the Belle époque, were substantially, though not always explicitly, influenced by the political commitments of its ­founders, Emile Durkheim, Marcel Mauss, and Maurice Halbwachs. Most important of these commitments were the position of Republican ­sociologists of (often) Jewish origin in the Dreyfus affair and their socialist sympathies and collaboration with socialist organizations (Charle 1984; Karady 1972)[7]. These preferences and alliances were rarely given open political expression: The high standards of (self-)censorship prevalent at the French university prevented sociology from becoming a variety of left-wing republican punditry. Yet they were closely aligned with the reformist and expansionist attitudes of the new type of knowledge vis-à-vis the traditional university dis­ciplines.

The main empirical difference between the initial versions of sociology in France and Russia had to do with sociology’s place within the university. In the Russian case, that place was marginal, because sociology was shaped as an extra-disciplinary and, initially, even exterritorial intellectual practice. The first sociological institution was the Russian Higher School of Social Sciences, which was founded in 1901 in Paris. The school was an open, Russian-language university whose founders and students were unable to teach or study in Russia for political reasons (Gutnov 2001). Its mode of institutionalization was hardly that of a unified group trying to consolidate their position within university space: the School built on the success of a series of lectures held by Russian intellectuals at the 1900 Paris World’s Fair. Its organizers included Maksim Kovalevskii, Iurii Gambarov, Evgenii De Roberti, Il’ia Mechnikov, and a range of opinion journalists who were considered to hold similar ­political views. They did not espouse a common research agenda and were much more interested in creating apublic forum to secure freedom of speech than in shaping a disciplinary сore that would secure them a place in academic hierarchies[8]. The School’s founders hailed from the provincial Russian gentry; initially they financed the institution out of their own pocket. They were primarily united by their “systemic” opposition to autocracy, but were soon faced with the mounting politicization and disorganization of classes[9], leading to the School’s self-dissolution in early 1906.

Having emerged as an institutional response to the monarchical regime, and in particular as a direct reaction to Russian university policies, Russian sociology in exile demonstrated that the anti-monarchical disposition that united its diverse participants had far less immediate academic effects than the shared republican disposition of the small group of like-minded intellectuals who founded French sociology. The latter laid the foundations of an academic discipline in the strict sense (a school of sociological research), whereas the former created a temporary tactical alliance between free-floating intellectuals and political commentators. Durkheim and Mauss eventually became civil servants of the republican state; Kovalevskii and De Roberti remained freelance intellectuals outside the bounds of state employment.

That this dubious project, which was much closer to radical political journalism in the Russian case than in Durkheim’s version, should be normalized as a university discipline was no more likely than that the model of academic self-government that was implemented within the Paris School (Gutnov 2001) would be transposed to Russia’s state universities, which were controlled by the Ministry of Education. The next creation, after the Paris School was closed, was a sociology department within another atypical institution, Vladimir Bekhterev’s Psycho-Neurological Institute in Saint Petersburg, founded in 1908 with private funding and headed by Kovalevskii and De Roberti. Sociology’s proximity to freelance journalism and political commentary was further reinforced by the fact that the state universities, which opened the path to a professional career, tolerated sociology only in the form of informal circles and scholarly debating societies (Golosenko and Koz­lovskii 1995).

The political differences between the French and Russian varieties of sociology were also determined by the extent to which the new knowledge and its bearers were integrated into the central educational institutions. Before the October Revolution of 1917, Russian sociology remained a political threat from the left; after the Revolution, it found itself to be insufficiently left-wing. Thus it never became part of normal, routine academic classifications on a par with history or philosophy. Sociology entered its second cycle of institutionalization in the post-Stalinist USSR in the status of a politically dubious and educationally marginal discipline.

Post-War Institutional Limits: Collegial Self-Government vs. Directorial Governance

Beginning in the 1950s, as a result of the technocratic centralization of administration and the gradual universalization of the welfare state, the macro-political structures of the USSR and France became closer than they had been during the Belle époque. As a result, the difference between the two national versions of sociology increasingly expressed itself in the academic dimension. Even if we leave aside the chronological lag in sociology’s institutionalization as a university discipline (1958 in France, and 1989 in Russia) justly pointed out by Le Gall and Soulié (2009, footnote 17) and focus on the renewed institutionalization of sociology as a research discipline in France (1946[10]) and the Soviet Union (1960[11]), we are faced with a dilemma. Is it the same discipline—taken as an intellectual and institutional complex—that is being institutionalized in the two cases? After all, not only were the theoretical horizons different in France and the USSR (in particular, in their relations with the American sociological mainstream[12]); the configurations of academic micro-power were also fundamentally different in the two cases.

In post-war France, sociology was institutionalized in an academic space where the politics of careers and knowledge played itself out in bodies of collegial self-government. The National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS, 1939[13]) and the social science section of the Ecole pratique des hautes е́tudes (1947), the future Ecole des hautes études en sciences sociales, were created as self-governing confederations of centers of scholarship. Their task was to overcome the fragmentation of research as well as to alleviate material difficulties such as the rugged career paths for researchers at universities and the lack of research premises. In the post-war USSR, academic institutions were often created on a turnkey basis, with a complete set of positions and a building. The price to pay for such direct government patronage, however, was a weakening of collegial governance mechanisms, in particular the power of the Academic Councils. The genesis of the disciplinary structures of sociology as anew science followed a model of “reverse” institutionalization (see below). Starting in the 1930s, academic power was exercised by administrators in permanent positions: institute directors and university rectors, their deputies, and heads of departments and laboratories.

The cardinal difference between the two regimes of academic governance—the collegial system and the official (directorial) system—is evident in scholarship evaluation procedures. In the French academic world, from the late 1940s approvals of professional qualifications and evaluations of the quality of the scholarly output of research centers and individual researchers have been performed biennially by two collective organs, the National Committee of Universities (CNU) for those in teaching positions, and the National Committee for Scientific Research (CoNRS) for researchers[14]. All members of national and local organs are chosen from among the staff of academic institutions. Two-thirds are directly elected (by the votes of both academic and technical staff), and one-third are nominated by academic unions and appointed by the Ministry of Education and Research[15]. In post-war France, the state acquired a stronger role as the guarantor of nationwide academic institutions, overseeing competitions, certification, the secular character of education, and a unified salary scale[16], and it has retained this function until recently. Nevertheless, the criteria of sociological practice are, crucially, determined not by officials outside the discipline, but by the producers of sociological knowledge. The evaluation of scholarly output is primarily ensured by peers.


The Soviet/Russian case works in almost exactly the opposite way. Here, the expertise of scholarship is, in the final instance, in the hands of a professional bureaucracy: This function is routinely exercised by academic administrators, and in extreme cases by the party apparatus. Officially, the Soviet model was far from “totalitarian.” Along with the administrative command principle, it allowed for, and even ideologically mandated, the existence of self-governance in the framework of Academic Councils, which in fact functioned as consultative and partly façade institutions[17]. However, the approval of professional qualifications and decisions on careers in higher education and research in the post-war USSR/Russia were in the hands of the administration of academic institutions, consisting of the institution’s director, the head of its human resources department, and the head of its labor union[18]. The other institutions that were in charge of the centralized evaluation of scholarly output and careers were the so-called First Departments that were linked to the regional party committees and the KGB. Starting at the level of head of laboratory or department, decisions had to be sanctioned by the Central Committee’s department of science and ideology. With the dismantling of the Soviet political institutions these centers of expertise ceased their existence, and promotion was now entirely in the hands of each institution’s “administration,” with academic labor unions and Academic Councils largely relegated to awindow-dressing role.

This difference in models of disciplinary governance is expressed in the pragmatics of the concepts used in that process. One example is the concept of “administration,” a term that is common in both academic and political contexts. In France and other societies that have partly inherited the medieval system of university organization[19], this term designates a procedure more than a position, and it is largely defined by scholars’ (self-) representation. The meaning of the concept is determined by the fact that academic institutions do not generate a specialized officialdom that would possess an ultimate monopoly on scholarship, budgets, and promotion within “its” institutions. In the USSR and post-Soviet Russia, in contrast, the “administration” is an isolated and stable professional category whose members pursue institutional or political careers that do not depend on the careers of specialists in their field. Given the near-total lack of influence of representative bodies, these administrators have a monopoly on the promotion of specialists.

The same institutional situation is expressed in a concept that is complementary to that of the “administration”: “rank-and-file staff members” (riadovye sotrudniki). Just like the English term peers, the French concept of pairs is fundamental for a whole range of routine procedures of collective self-governance, including peer review of papers submitted for publication in scholarly journals or competitive hiring. It dispenses with a strict hierarchical dichotomy and naturally fits the West European view of sociology as ascience that is a corporate/collective enterprise by its very genesis, a view that remains alien to the Russian academic system with its hierarchy of “superiors” and “subordinates”[20]. The micropolitics of French collegiality has very real flaws, and is often criticized as being overly bureaucratic, formalized, and prone to abuse of power. Nevertheless, until very recently it validated Pierre Bourdieu’s (1997) definition of science as recognition by peers. This is precisely what is at stake in French academics’ current struggle against the commercialization and managerialization of intellectual production.

It is plausible to assume that the differences in types of academic organization in France and Russia give different meanings not only to the concept of “administration,” but also to that of “sociology” in the two cases. Revived in the postwar period, the “medieval” element of academic organization became the fundamental element of the French national version of sociology, increasing the likelihood of certain intellectual results by emphasizing the procedural aspect of academic promotion. This concerns, above all, sociology as political critique and the discipline’s critical self-reflection. The most tangible divergence between the French and Soviet models concerns sociology’s ability to analyze political domination, and in particular the subtle tools of state power (such as official statistics), as well as its own intellectual foundations[21]. But the differences do not end there. The cognitive possibilities available to each of the two structures of academic power were institutionalized in different ways. In Soviet sociology, they were framed in models of monolithic social order and a scheme of harmonious hierarchy (of needs or social strata, for example). A few Soviet sociologists could express their gentle liberal opposition[22] by rethinking certain individual features, but not by publicly developing alternative explanatory tools. In contrast, several dominant versions of postwar French sociology that emerged within the renewed academic institutions (Alain Touraine, Pierre Bourdieu, Michel Crozier[23]) focused on distinction, struggle, and conflict.

More generally, French sociology had a relatively autonomous space for scientific judgment that was both more competitive and more stable than in the USSR. This space emerged as a result of the relative autonomy of academic careers: Bodies of collegial representation that “naturally” exercise the most routine procedures of academic evaluation also naturally perform the “refraction” (in Bourdieu’s sense) of external career influences and intellectual pressures. A Soviet sociological career, in contrast, was determined by relations of “service” between “superiors” and “subordinates” that were objectivated in the form of hierarchical and intellectual loyalty to the “leadership.”

Genius Loci: The Birth of Soviet Sociology from the Spirit of Hierarchy

Pre-revolutionary Russian sociology was initially institutionalized as an intellectual and political practice outside the boundaries of a legitimate career and even outside the state’s borders. When the discipline was re-institutionalized and acquired a professional routine in the postwar period, the exact opposite happened. In official doctrine, “social relations” were gradually shifting from “class struggle” to “social homogeneity.” The new discipline was now domiciled inside a state apparatus which was itself undergoing reform. Prototypes of collegial structures spontaneously emerged in the Thaw decade between the late 1950s and the late 1960s, examples of which included informal circles that spun off legal academic seminars, public lectures and debates, and substantive discussions at Academic Council meetings. As sociology was normalized in both academia and the bureaucracy at the turn of the 1970s, these mechanisms again lost their institutional legitimacy: A series of official procedures—primarily punitive measures by the party—were applied to those who most actively and simultaneously participated in both self-organized and institutional (including Communist Party) activities. The unexpected effectiveness of party sanctions in the management of sociologists’ intellectual practices may well constitute the central plot in the story of Soviet sociology. Strictly speaking, the process often referred to in post-Soviet memoirs and reconstructions as the “persecution of sociologists” was in fact an integration of the spontaneous intellectual activities of sociologists—as mid-range state servants and party functionaries—into the dominant model of academic careers. As a result, Soviet sociology in the 1970s and 80s was most pertinently characterized by the near-total lack of non-Soviet procedural “inventions” in its institutional structure. By extension, the same may be said about Russian sociology in the 1990s, which directly inherited its institutional organization and personnel from the Soviet system, with the addition of those who had formerly taught ideological disciplines (scientific communism, dialectical and historical materialism, political economy).

In the Soviet Union of the 1950s–80s, any scholarly career within the Academy of Sciences or a university was a form of state service that was regulated by the requirement to maintain loyalty to one’s immediate and higher superiors. The infamous quotes from the latest decisions of the party congress at the beginning of articles and in prefaces to monographs served as outward expressions of that loyalty. But behind this most noticeable external stratum, there was a whole spectrum of practices of bureaucratic loyalty. Elections to full membership of the Academy of Sciences were coordinated by the Central Committee’s departments of science and ideology, publications were submitted to each institute’s First Department for authorization, and “rank-and-file staff members” were required to participate in “civil activities.” Russian and foreign studies in the history of science often evoke a “totalitarian regime.” In the late Soviet period (1960s–80s), this regime functioned in the form of bureaucratic overrepresentation through which the most diverse professional practices were codified into routines that had to comply with standards of service to the state. The ways in which this model was implemented varied between disciplines and within disciplines, depending on their level of intellectual autonomy. The institutionalization of sociological careers within the state’s administrative apparatus firmly and enduringly circumscribed the horizon of professional sociologists’ career options and cognitive possibilities by a set of problems and questions that were defined by the “leadership.”

The tactical complex of “sociology” acquired its initial political and scientific legitimacy during the key moment when the USSR’s regime of (self-)isolation was partly abolished[24], and the international dimension became a new point of reference. In 1956, Soviet delegates unofficially participated in the World Congress of Sociology. Upon their return, they reported that this ostensibly scholarly event was in fact an arena of ideological confrontation between capitalism and socialism. The Presidium of the Academy of Sciences recommended “reinforcing the role of Soviet scientific institutions in the activities of international scientific organizations” and acquainting “foreign sociologists with our position on the most important issues of social development,” preventing “the dissemination of libelous information on the USSR, as happened at previous Congresses” (Zapiska 1997: 38). However, official participation in the Congress was only open to representatives of a national sociological association. It was to this end that a Soviet Sociological Association (SSA) was established as early as 1957 (Zapiska 1997: 40).

Unsurprisingly, the first official delegation that represented this new professional association at the following international congress (in 1957) consisted of specialists in historical materialism and party functionaries. State administrators and ideological virtuosos continued to represent Soviet sociology at subsequent conventions. The delegations included administrators of academic institutions, editors of journals published by the Academy of Sciences, and state officials (Sotsiologiia i vlast’: 22, 46–47, 58). A professional sociological association in the absence of professional sociologists is an example of “reverse” institutionalization. The founding of the association was followed by the creation of specialized laboratories and centers whose activities were clearly aimed at managing the process of industrial production, including workplace time management, migration of workers between enterprises and sectors, job satisfaction, and the like. The discipline only acquired a central scholarly institution, the Institute for Concrete Social Research at the Academy of Sciences, as late as 1968, ten years after the creation of the national sociological association. The institute was also headed by a high-ranking party official, an economist and former editor of Pravda, Academician Aleksandr Rumiantsev. His deputies were also not researchers; one, Fedor Burlatskii, was a Central Committee consultant and speechwriter for Nikita Khrushchev, while the other, Gennadii Osipov, was an academic and party functionary who had become the director of the first sociological center.

A Division for New Forms of Labor and Everyday Life was created at the Institute of Philosophy of the Academy of Sciences in 1960. It was utilitarian in its choice of subject matter and represented a sort of pact with the “leadership.” Not only did its creation require direct authorization by the Central Committee, but apreliminary and necessary condition was that its director (Osipov) be a specific type of state bureaucrat[25]. The sociological laboratory at Leningrad State University was based on the same model. Its director (Vladimir Iadov) started out as secretary of the Komsomol’s (the Communist Youth Union’s) district committee, then went on to become secretary of the Komsomol’s chapter at the university. Agreement between researchers and the university administration was far from sufficient to establish the laboratory. The only available path of institutionalization was through state and party bodies, and the only type of successful career possible under these conditions was that of a party scholar. This naturally defined the discipline’s cognitive horizon. Thus the central hypothesis of the best-known research monograph of the Soviet period, Man and His Work (Zdravomyslov, Rozhin, and Iadov 1967), which summarizes the work done by the sociological laboratory over several years, candidly and loyally reproduced the party orthodoxy’s maxim about “work becoming the primary vital need during the transition from socialism to communism.”

Established as the regime of rigid political (self-)isolation was being abandoned, Soviet sociology fully inherited the contradictory complex of active borrowing and rejection of “foreign science.” This complex clearly manifested itself in the content of sociological texts and the work of whole institute divisions, such as those devoted to the “critique of bourgeois sociological theories.” Its influence on career mechanisms in sociology was less explicit, but no less fundamental. It is important to keep in mind that most Soviet sociologists obtained their ideas about what was happening in sociology internationally, via word-of-mouth communication, or from Soviet secondary literature that was approved by the Central Committee’s ideology and science departments. Access to visiting foreign sociologists was limited to Komsomol or party officials. Meeting with North American or West European sociologists visiting the USSR, and of course traveling to international conventions, was conditional upon being included in a list drawn up by the local Komsomol or party chapter and approved by the appropriate Central Committee department[26]. Thus many of those who entered the profession at the turn of the 1960s and later became well-known sociologists had dual party/research careers. For example, Vladimir Iadov, Gennadii Osipov, and Iurii Levada were secretaries of Komsomol chapters, Andrei Zdravomyslov was a party member and a member of various groups of consultants at Central Committee departments, Tatiana Zaslavskaia had joined the party in 1954, and Igor Kon, although not a party member, took part in the work of preparatory committees on de-Stalinization before the 1956 Party Congress[27]. Thanks to their membership in both intellectual institutions and official party bodies, several sociologists were “naturally” ensured an international socialization and equally “naturally” made intellectual and political compromises.

The same principles governed the careers of successful sociologists outside the realm of international contacts. Starting at the level of department head at a research institute, all promotions were approved by the Central Committee departments, making the institute’s administration a part of the state administrative apparatus that was subject to party control and accountable for its intellectual activities. In several cases, party control meant that the institute’s director and deputy directors and the Central Committee departments jointly approved appointments to senior researcher positions and candidates for higher-level doctoral degrees (doktorskaia). Soviet sociology was governed by a type of compromise career, where access to crucial intellectual resources was guaranteed by loyalty to one’s superiors. As a result, research was carried out “in collaboration with administrative bodies and the public,” no distinction was made between sociological and social problems; and research hypotheses were taken from party declarations[28].

Thus, the complex of Soviet sociology was bureaucratically overdetermined, collegial forms were rudimentary, and the discipline was beset by extra-intellectual (self-)censorship. This naturally brings us back to the question: what was Soviet sociology, compared to the French or some other West European versions? The question may be formulated differently: what, under these conditions, may be meant by a “discipline”? What kind of dis­cipline are we talking about? Soviet sociology cannot be described as a “pure” intellectual practice supported by autonomous (self-governing) educational institutions and based on independent criteria of access to the profession. Nor can it be analyzed solely in terms of party self-censorship, despite the existence of a strong codex of hierarchical loyalty. The features of this tactical complex were also determined by minimal requirements of scientificity, at the very least to allow Soviet sociologists to compete internationally. From the late 1950s, Soviet sociology emerged as a dual administrative-intellectual tool with which the moderate reformist factions within the state apparatus tried to take over that apparatus[29]. The conservative factions that gained the upper hand in the 1970s were able to remove reform-oriented academic administrators and “their” sociologists from key positions, as happened in 1972 with the Institute of Concrete Social Research. However, they could no longer simply abolish institutions that had taken root not so much in intellectual hierarchies as in the party apparatus.

Analyzing sociology’s theoretical horizon in connection with institutional and, in particular, career routines allows us to designate much more clearly the boundaries and mechanisms of the reproduction of this compromise discipline, which continued its existence into the early 1990s and was refounded in the 1990s–2000s. If we also take into account the differences between the Russian and French cases, we may see a partial similarity between sociological dispositions in the Soviet and pre-revolutionary periods. In the Soviet universe, sociological practice was performed in the intellectual sector of state service; in the case of pre-revolutionary Russia, it was only possible as a leisure activity outside the bounds of a state career. In both cases, however, sociology, as an empirically grounded critical description of the current social order, was excluded from the competition for academic legitimacy and established itself at the journalistic end of the spectrum. This choice was overdetermined in both cases, on the one hand by an anti-monarchist disposition for pre-revolutionary sociology, and on the other by a bureaucratic one for the Soviet variety.

For late Soviet sociologists, who were state servants, scholarly professionalism was one of the few available forms of relative political freedom, or ethical redemption[30]. Unlike Durkheim, however, they were unable to engage in the critical and expansionist activities that would allow sociologists to compete with doctrinal philo­sophers at the universities. Soviet sociologists’ compromised careers and party self-discipline were symmetrical to the institutional domination of historical materialism over sociology. Sociology was allowed to develop “concrete methods” and “generalizations in particular fields,” but istmat monopolized the teaching of social topics at universities. Sociologists were engaged in a direct competition with orthodox party philosophers for the right to define the foundations of their own discipline, and they lost that battle again and again until the late 1980s[31]. Sociology’s position as a “junior” discipline in terms of both party hierarchies and theory kept it in the ghetto of service literature and marginalized it within the Soviet intellectual hierarchy.

Disciplining Sociology Anew: The Institutional Limits of the Renewal of Intellectual Models

Given the correspondence between the discipline’s theoretical and career structures, the key factor that could have enabled sociology to produce unorthodox results and grow into a sound discipline was a change in the model of governance, a shift from tutelage of “rank-and-file” academic staff by a professional bureaucracy to a collegial self-governance by sociologists. But no such shift took place. On the contrary, the discipline moved toward a utilitarian patronage model, as evidenced by the well-known expression “working for the client” that increasingly became part of the discipline’s self-definition as it reformed itself.

In the academic world as in all other spheres of society, the turn of the 1990s was marked by a suspension of former hierarchies, a high level of indeterminacy and broad debates about “democratic reform”, which was itself a conglomerate made up of fragments of conflicting models and mutually opposed tendencies. There was a serious discussion on the need to introduce democratic self-governance for science and to make it economically self-sufficient, to liberate it from the legacy of the administrative-command system and its “state-supporting” status. During the first years of academic de-hierarchization, self-governing forms were buoyed by the energetic repudiation of the “only true doctrine,” orthodox Marxism. However, the future of sociology was eventually determined by the opposite tendency. This grew out of the transformation (seemingly chaotic, at first sight) of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR, the official home of sociology since the 1960s.

In 1987, several of the functions of the Presidium of the Academy of Sciences were transferred to the Academy’s Sections. Directors of institutes, members of Academic Councils, and even heads of research units (laboratories) were now to be elected, while a General Assembly of the Academy[32] mandated a 65-year age cap for those in administrative positions and a 5% annual staff renewal ratio (Lakhtin 1990: 44–45; 90)[33]. Somewhat earlier, however, in 1986, a ground-breaking decision transferred the evaluation of researchers at the Academy of Sciences from open meetings of the Academic Councils to institute administrations, immeasurably increasing the latter’s power[34]. By the early or mid-1990s, many of the “anti-authoritarian” inventions of the late 1980s had failed to be implemented (fully or at all), such as the 65-year cap, which kept disappearing from the final text of the Statutes of the Academy of Sciences, up to and including the latest version approved in 2007. The resulting reforms were reminiscent of a conservative rather than a liberal revolution. In 1991, the Academy of Sciences became legally self-governing[35], but that status did not presuppose the creation of collegial structures by “rank-and-file staff”. It simply implied the end of ministerial control over the Academy’s Presidium, the transfer of real estate ownership to the research institutes, and tax benefits. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, the debate on the Academy’s reorganization, and in particular on changes to its Statute, has been dominated by questions of real estate ownership. Thus autonomy (or self-government) has been defined as the right to dispose of property and the existence of an independent bureaucratic hierarchy[36].

In the case of sociology, which was institutionalized in the late Soviet period and therefore equipped with very limited institutional resources of collegial decision-making, the transfer of promotion decisions from open meetings to directorial offices finally consolidated academic power in the hands of institute directors. The dismantling of the Soviet apparatus—the Central Committee’s departments of science and ideology, which ­functioned somewhat like an authority providing supra-institutional expertise—did not automatically move the standards of the discipline toward intellectual priorities. On the contrary, the removal of the central state bodies from institutional exchanges merely reinforced localist and paternalistic tendencies in academic governance, adding to the effects of the frenzied search for financial self-sufficiency, which employs non-intel­lectual practices (renting out premises) and downright corruption (especially at institutions of higher education).

Professional self-governance, in particular through independent associations, remained an unfinished task that was soon completely forgotten, since due to the increasingly hermetic closure of individual institutions it found no support in routine forms of grassroots collegiality. In French sociology, such routines have the supreme legitimacy of “going without saying.” They ensure collective decision-making both within and outside the walls of academic institutions, through Scientific or Laboratory Councils, General Assemblies, trade unions, and National Committees on promotions, which jointly represent all categories of staff, and in some cases include postgraduate and undergraduate students. Attempts by the neo-conservative French government to “abolish” the collegial bodies in 2005–9 using neo-liberal slogans not only generated protest movements[37] but also, along with critical conferences, street protests, polemical publications, and public declarations, resulted in at least two large-scale and institutionally relevant collective countermeasures. The first was the creation of a National Coordination of Universities[38] which, on January 22, 2009, proclaimed an open-ended general university strike until the government should revoke its amendments to the law on the status of teacher-researchers[39]. The second was a declaration by 4,000 scholars, in 2008, that they would refuse to participate as temporary experts in the work of the Agency for the Evaluation of Research and Education (AERES), which was eventually supposed to take on some of the functions of the permanent national Committees[40].

In the Russian case, the concentration of academic power within individual institutions led to an increase in “rank-and-file staff members’” dependence on their “superiors,” who are now their immediate employers[41], and in research teams’ dependence on paying customers. The involution of the structure of academic power also directly affected the discipline’s intellectual horizon. The first and most noticeable result of this localization or provincialization of academic ties that began in the second half of the 1990s were isolationist and sometimes nationalist tendencies that contrasted with the growing number of translations and adoptions of international sociological vocabulary. In its most extreme form, these tendencies manifested themselves as a public rebuke to “pernicious Western influence,” voiced by the discipline’s ultra-conservative wing in the name of both sociology and a quasi-religiously defined moral order[42]. In a softer and far less obvious form, it may be observed in responses to the ubiquitous and habitual ambiguity produced by dependence on a multitude of isolated and temporary clients. Instead of creating horizontal, associative, perhaps even labor union-type organizations, Russian sociologists have sought partners at a higher level of the state apparatus. Starting in the mid-1990s, the leaders of sociological research teams and heads of institutions voluntarily began to look for renewed municipal and state patronage, which had been ideologically disavowed in the late 1980s, and to address a large part of their projects and publications to the “authorities”[43].

Another intellectual effect of the increased local concentration of academic organization is the tacit abandonment of the expansionist principle of a single, synoptic “human science” that had been optimistically proclaimed in the late 1980s and early 1990s and set the tone for a whole series of research programs and inter-institutional collaborative projects. This was replaced by a routine practice of effort-saving, whereby large institutions were regrouped by fields (such as history and theory of sociology, sociology of youth, sociology of labor, or sociology of culture) This organization even more evidently shapes the current face of the discipline. Sociological institutions avoid the commercially unprofitable synthesis between empirical research and “big” theory in publications and curricula that are mainly intended for use within the institutions themselves. The triumph of “multi-paradigmality” within individual research projects since the mid-1990s[44] is only partly a reflection of the increased availability of “Western theories.” It has much more to do with the disappearance of the centralized infrastructure that previously supplied sociologists with large amounts of resources and data. With material resources being inconsistently available and theoretical ones abundant yet ill-understood, it was easy to renew the official Soviet dichotomy of theoretical vs. applied that marks the dividing line between academic accountability and commercial patronage, between noble sociological leisure and profitable technical specialization. The concept of “social problems” also acquired a second life, remaining the starting point of empirical research in textbooks and educational practice in the 1990s and 2000s.

In opposition to the large, conservative institutions that sustain these intellectual standards, small intellectual and educational centers begin to spring up in the early 1990s, institutionalizing trends that go beyond Soviet sociology, such as “qualitative methods,” “understanding sociology,” gender studies, and social policy. These institutions serve to crystallize a different type of discipline, yet in the balance of academic power in the late 2000s they occupy a marginal position. As a key indicator, they have extremely few holders of higher doctorates among their staff, and do not have the right to form dissertation committees[45]. This state of affairs maintains the large institutions as the main centers of professional reproduction, making non-conformist ­researchers enter inevitable compromises with the dominant disciplinary models or pushing them completely out of academia (their careers already having been considerably slowed down).

A comparison of different historical and national versions of the discipline makes it clear that Michael Burawoy (2009) is right when he argues that it is productive for sociology to be engaged in broad social critique. Yet it is important to note that such involvement does not result from the mere personal intentions of individual scholars. The establishment of joint projects and public ties with social movements as well as socio­logists’ collective ability to critically analyze “large-scale” social structures are closely linked to the internal micro-structures of the intellectual complex of sociology, that is, to the organization of the discipline itself as a form of power. Whether cognitive patterns are closer, for example, to Soviet party-based models, West European collegial models, or Brazilian activist models depends on the configuration of academic micro-politics. The constraints and incentives that are regularly reproduced in academic interaction—in other words, discipline in the strict sense of the term—form the social foundations of the initial network of categories that sociologists project outward, endowing the entire social world with recognizable features.

That the career type currently dominant in Russian sociology owes little to collegial self-government is demonstrated, among other data, by the dominant professional categorization of the student rebellion of 2007. The prevalent reaction—including responses from large and even small reformist institutions—was a policy of non-intervention into the “internal affairs” of the sociology department or Moscow State University. In other words, they refused to publicly qualify these events as an object of interest to the entire profession, in the name of preserving the bureaucratic status quo—keeping sovereign power at each institution in the hands of its local administration. The moderately critical findings and recommendations of the extra-institutional Working Group that studied the conflict in 2007 (as part of the Public Chamber, a national consultative body)[46] sounded the death-bell for the student rebellion, precluding any large-scale professional mobilization.

No less significantly, sociologists from the central institutions often spontaneously interpreted the rebellion as being about a change of administrative leadership, and tried to guess which institutional competitor to the sociology department was “really” inspiring and manipulating the students: a “hostile” university or a commercial or political “raider.” That conspiracy theories should have appeared more plausible than bona fide self-organized mobilization indirectly proved something important about “normal” careers in academic sociology. This is the fact that only sociologists at an advanced age and occupying a high position are seen to have the right to intellectual maturity and autonomous actions that are not sanctioned by the director of their institution. Thus the events at Moscow State University are seen through the lens of imaginary relations between a powerful “boss” and weak-willed “subordinates.” This is indicative of the working conditions of the interpreters themselves, which are determined by relations between their institutions’ “leadership” and “rank-and-file staff.”

The events surrounding the sociology department at Moscow State University could have become a turning point in shaping the foundations of professional and collegial solidarity. They did not. Reaffirming its privilege to deal with their own “internal affairs,” the department’s administration enacted a purge of students and teaching staff, created loyal student organizations, tightened its control over staff’s exercise of their duties and students’ class attendance, and made another attempt to reinforce its “top” position by inviting Aleksandr Dugin—leader of the ultra-conservative Eurasianist Movement, adviser to the United Russia party, and the author of a radical nationalist conception of geopolitics—to head a Center for Conservative Studies created in 2008. Thus the director’s office reinforced its monopoly over a department that continues to designate itself as “sociological” and retains a key position in the discipline’s institutional dynamics. This makes a renewal of the discipline’s dominant intellectual preferences even less likely. The main achievement of this rebellion is a lesson in academic micro-politics; but this lesson is likely to be tacitly suppressed, as happened earlier to the question of Russian sociology’s intellectual soundness. Only a new break with the “natural” power of the “bosses” over “rank-and-file staff”—one that would need to be institutionalized in new routines and self-governing disciplinary associations—may release the cognitive and critical potential of sociology as a science.


Authorized translation from the Russian by Mischa Gabowitsch


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  1. This book served as a key manual for professional sociologists. See below for an analysis of its editor’s administrative background.

  2. The same phrase is used in first-year introductory sociology courses today, in particular at Moscow State University.

  3. Today, this assessment is mainly shared by those who insist on the imperatives of professional competence and on sociology as an international science—those who espouse the "science" model of the discipline, as opposed to the bureaucratic co-optation model outlined below. The former owe less of their career to the large institutes of the Academy of Sciences and are therefore free to voice their observations publicly (Voronkov 2007; Malakhov 2007; Bikbov 2007).

  4. Some internal debate was provoked by those who argued that Russian sociology’s "problem spots" needed to be sought outside the discipline itself and, in particular, were due to the lack of social demand for sociological knowledge: "The lack of theoretical sociology is not so much a state of the discipline as a state of society" (Filippov 1997: 5).

  5. It need not, however, fit Pierre Bourdieu’s definition of a "field" as an autonomous structure. Even in the absence of intellectual autonomy, any discipline or institution generates nuanced forms of local power.

  6. In Russia, the attribute "academic" is usually reserved for the research-only institutions of the Academy of Sciences, as opposed to institutions of higher education such as universities. In this paper, "academic" refers to both indiscriminately.

  7. In Germany, too, the socialist sensibilities of some university intellectuals played an important role in the formation of sociology as an intellectual project. Thus Max Weber carried out his empirical research on the situation of agrarian and industrial workers at the invitation of the Verein fur Sozialpolitik, an academic association that sought to disseminate socialist critique among young people at universities (Weber 1988: 330).

  8. Additional context on the School’s internal workings and context is provided in Golosenko and Kozlovskii 1995, chapter 1, paragraph 2.

  9. "In terms of their political predilections, the School’s students … were mostly divided between revolutionary socialism and social democracy." They struggled for influence within the School by inviting political activists of different persuasions to give lectures. Among invited lecturers were the radical social democrat Vladimir Lenin, the revolutionary socialist Viktor Chernov, the populist Vladimir Kocharovskii, and the conservative liberal Petr Struve. The ensuing controversies sometimes turned violent, partly due to the activities of Russian agents provocateurs. As a result, the School had difficulty functioning as early as 1904 (Gutnov 2001).

  10. The year when Georges Gurvitch founded a Center for Sociological Research as part of the newly created confederacy of research centers that was the National Center for Scientific Research, or CNRS.

  11. In that year, a sociological laboratory headed by Vladimir Iadov was created at Leningrad State University, and a Division for New Forms of Labor and Everyday Life, headed by Gennadii Osipov, at the Institute of Philosophy of the Soviet Academy of Sciences.

  12. I analyze the significance of American models in the foundation of Soviet sociology in greater detail in the first part of Bikbov (forthcoming), placing it inside the context of the Cold War and contrasting it with the French intellectual situation.

  13. The CNRS was officially instituted two weeks before the start of the Second World War, and revived as a coordinating center after Liberation, in 1944. For more detail see Picard 1999.

  14. Research programs and curricula, in contrast, are designed by university teachers or researchers themselves and approved by departmental or laboratory Academic Councils. In the Russian case, the opposite is true: substantive programs are composed by national bodies (Commissions and Teaching Methods Associations at the Ministry of Education), whereas decisions on promotion are made by local bodies (the directors of institutions).

  15. Thus, one of the differences between the Durkheim era and the period of the 1950s–2000s has to do with the fact that in the former, decisions on promotion were made by local (intra-university) bodies, whereas in the latter period, they shifted to national bodies. More important than this distinction, however, is the very principle that decisions of on career advancement are made by peers.

  16. The latter was abolished for all government employees at the end of 2008. This key move in the dismantlement of the welfare state provoked no critical analysis on the part of professional sociologists, or any measure of organized or public social protest.

  17. The CoNRS, which decides on academic promotion, is also formally a consultative body. Yet until recently (2006–9), it functioned as the real decision-making body on promotion. It partly preserves these privileges today.

  18. It is a peculiar feature of the Soviet and some East European cases that the active core of a labor union was limited to their head and a few deputies, who distributed tourist vouchers, holiday gifts for children, and coupons for the purchase of scarce basic goods among fee-paying "regular members."

  19. It is important to keep in mind that in France, the basic intellectual institutions—the universities—emerged in the 12th century in the form of independent corporations; in the 16th century, the growing central government tried to extend its control over them, with very limited success. In Russia, universities were established by the monarchy in the 18th century, well after the era of corporations had ended, as an institution that prepared for a government career. In the current debates and struggles over the French government’s neo-liberal reforms (since 2006), the corporative or collegial principle is once again a bone of contention. One of the key points on which Nicholas Sarkozy’s government criticizes the universities are the "vestiges" of corporative organization. Conversely, the need to avert threats to the collegial principle serves to justify opposition to the reforms.

  20. Collegial forms of governance are so marginal in Russian academia that even good translators often make mistakes in translating the term "peers" into Russian. Translated texts on the history of universities or current academic politics often erroneously feature noble Peers.

  21. In Soviet sociology, the methods employed by colleagues were only sporadically criticized, and analysis of the discipline’s intellectual foundations was rare. The "critique of bourgeois sociology," however—meaning the critique of a politically "alien" yet actively appropriated methodology—was institutionalized as one of the main subfields of the discipline.

  22. Members of that generation often repudiate this description or at least make efforts to depoliticize it.

  23. Just like the internationally best-known members of reformist factions in history, economics, and linguistics, these sociologists pursued their careers in new institutions rather than the traditional universities. The central new institution was the School for Advanced Social Research (Ecole des hautes etudes en sciences sociales), which grew out of an institution founded at the end of the 1940s.

  24. For more detail on the academic isolationism of the early 1950s, see Prozumenshchikov 2002. On the subsequent shift in academic policies, see Ivanov 2000.

  25. Osipov was at first "scientific secretary" at the Institute of Philosophy and headed the institute’s Komsomol chapter. At the end of the 1950s, he became deputy director of the institute (Osipov 1999).

  26. Interview with Andrei Zdravomyslov, May 29, 2004.

  27. The biographical data used here are partly derived from Batygin 1999, my interview with Andrei Zdravomyslov, and Dmitri Shalin’s series of interviews with Igor Kon, recorded in 1990–96 (Kon 2007).

  28. For more detail see Bikbov and Gavrilenko 2003, section entitled "The Rules of Method and the ‘Social Problem’."

  29. The founding figure of the party activist and economist Academician Aleksei Rumiantsev starkly illustrates this type of dual career at a high level of the hierarchy. As the first director of the Institute for Concrete Social Research, Rumiantsev played a key role in the institutionalization of sociology.

  30. These "real professionals" choice of Parsons and Lazarsfeld over orthodox Marxism generally fits this logic. Soviet medieval studies, a field where collegial standards of evaluation had greater traction, is a more consistent illustration of the same principle.

  31. In contradistinction to the many behind-the-scenes forms of consolidation of academic hierarchies, this competition found its public expression in the form of debates about the "object of sociology" which flared up regularly in the journals Voprosy filosofii, Sotsiologicheskie issledovaniia, and in prefaces to monographs in sociology and historical materialism throughout the 1950s–80s.

  32. The General Assembly is the Academy’s supreme governing body. It does not include the entire staff of the Academy’s institutes. Its only members are Full and Corresponding Members of the Academy of Sciences—those who hold honorary titles and occupy the highest administrative positions in the academic world—as well as temporary representatives of research organizations, whom these organizations’ administrators delegate without consulting any collegial assemblies.

  33. In the context of post-Soviet academia, commercialization is used synonymously with democratization.

  34. The document is entitled "Statute on the procedure for certifying leading, scientific, and technical workers and specialists at research institutions, design offices, technological, project, prospecting, and other scientific organizations." It was approved by the State Committee on Science and Technology, the State Committee for Construction, and the State Labor Committee of the USSR on February 17, 1986 (Polozhenie 1986).

  35. Decree of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the Russian Socialist Federative Republic (RSFSR), January 24, 1990 "On the Creation of the Academy of Sciences of the Russian Federation" (Ukaz 1990); Resolution of the Supreme Soviet of the RSFSR, February 15, 1991 "On Further Efforts to Organize the Russian Academy of Sciences" (Postanovlenie 1991); Decree of the President of the RSFSR no. 228, November 21, 1991, "On the Organization of the Russian Academy of Sciences" (Ukaz 1991).

  36. See the final versions of the Statutes of the Academy of Sciences (the latest version is available at The only article (number 3) that mentions "self-government" defines a sphere of bureaucratic competence and makes no reference to collegial procedures: "The Russian Academy of Sciences is a self-governing organization that performs fundamental and applied scientific research into the main problems of the natural, technical, and social sciences and humanities, and participates in coordinating fundamental scientific research performed by scientific organizations as well as institutions of higher professional education financed from the federal budget" (2007).

  37. The Sauvons la recherche (Save Research) movement, whose members are researchers from a variety of disciplines, including sociology, and the Sauvons l’universite (Save the University) movement, founded in 2003 and 2007, respectively, started coordinating their activities in 2009.

  38. A body created by university teachers that initially included delegates elected by the general assemblies of 46 out of France’s 80 universities. Each institution chose two members of their teaching staff at first. Later that number was increased to five, including one representative of technical staff and one student representative, delegated by 67 universities and twelve other educational institutions.

  39. The declaration was quickly disseminated through many autonomous web sites frequented by French intellectuals (Coordination nationale 2009).

  40. For more detail, see (published October 6, 2008, accessed July 25, 2009).

  41. This tendency became evident in the mid-2000s and has taken on vast proportions since late 2008, when incomes in the educational sector dropped at the same time as the unified national salary scale for state employees was abolished. From now on, half of the wage fund of each state-funded institution is directly administered by the institution’s leadership, who distribute these funds among employees based on their personal assessment of their work efficiency.

  42. Most obviously but by no means exclusively, these include the heads of the sociology department of Russia’s "main" establishment of higher education, Moscow State University, and, partly, of the Academy of Sciences’ Institute for Social and Political Research.

  43. No later than the mid-1990s, institution administrators and project leaders renewed their attempts to make sociology part of "state interests" and "state priorities" once again. These efforts were not limited to the nationalist part of the spectrum (the Institute of Social and Political Research); they were also undertaken by politically and professionally moderate institutions active in the opinion poll, consulting, and academic expertise market. The statements of at least two of the three candidates for the directorship of the Institute of Sociology of the Academy of Sciences, Leokadiia Drobizheva and Valerii Mansurov, were organized around the idea of turning the Institute into a center of expertise for the state.

  44. For a concise yet revealing theoretical justification of "polytheoricity," see Iadov 1995.

  45. Such committees are a key factor in the institutionalization of new directions, since they allow the reproduction of a body of teachers and researchers who do not owe their careers to compromise with more conservative institutions.

  46. See the Working Group’s interim resolution (Rezoliutsiia rabochei gruppy 2007) and concluding document (Ekspertnoe zakliuchenie rabochei gruppy 2007). The present author, who participated in the Working Group, found that although it maintained certain hierarchical features, the Group was exceptional in extending a collegial principle of decision-making to all its members, including not only researchers and teachers, but also undergraduate students.


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