Abstract
Bridget Fowler’s work develops the topic of social transformation in Bourdieu’s writing – how it comes about, how it is to be framed theoretically, and who the agents of that change may be. This article continues this important line of thought by looking at one group that (sometimes) does contribute to social transformation. I call this group parvenus: ascendants from lower positions that move into leading positions within various fields. I take the field of science as a specific example. Building on research investigating the motivations of German economics students, I explore, and reflect upon, a distinct characteristic of the parvenu’s habitus: i.e. a tension introduced by exposure to different cultural milieus and influences. The close analysis suggests a more variable definition of the term parvenu, as well as novel ways of social reproduction.
Introduction
Disciplines choose their students as much as students choose their disciplines, imposing upon them categories of perception of subjects and careers as well as of their own skills. (Pierre Bourdieu – The State Nobility)
One part of Bridget Fowler’s oeuvre deals with the topic of social transformation from a specific Bourdieusian viewpoint – how it comes about, how it is to be framed theoretically, and who its agents may be (Fowler, 2006, 2020). This article tries to add to this important line of thought by looking at one group that, sometimes and under specific conditions, does contribute to social transformation, namely what I am terming parvenus – ascendants from lower positions in the social field that move into leading positions within various fields. I will take the particular case of the field of science as an example. Building on a project that looked at the motivations of German parvenu economics students, and comparing these with known academics in other fields, I wish to explore the particular intersection of structures and experiences with respect to this group. Parvenus, I argue, are structurally misfitted to the field or position in which they are situated. In this universe, which is not theirs, they enact adaptation procedures. In my sample, I find that these adaptation procedures are field-specific yet also varied, ranging from following orthodoxy to supporting forms of heterodox economics. I explore further the links of social origin with the chosen position and the perspective of the students, utilising for this the concept of ‘vertical mobility’. This article thus tries, for the first time, to specify both changing and constant elements in the process of social ascendancy of a group.
Open theory, history and materialism
During the spring and summer of 2013, shortly after my arrival at Glasgow, Bridget Fowler and I worked through Bourdieu’s Algerian Sketches (2013). Taking our time and reading widely (see also Robert Gibb’s contribution in this volume), we formed a two-person reading group, making our way through the tome in a few weeks. As has been the case ever since, Bridget introduced me to new literature, concepts and (his-)stories around Bourdieu specifically, and around social science more generally. Such engaging experience further convinced me that only a close, yet broad reading of sources can yield deeper insight, better writing, and ultimately good sociology. Part of this good sociology – vital to the livelihood, the imagination, and ultimately innovation of a discipline such as ours – must be an equally broad, and relaxed, discussion amongst equals. In this spirit, this article will try to put such principles of the sociological craft into practice. My focus will be on social change and transformation, an area both Fowler (2012, 2020) and Bourdieu (1984/1988, pp. 128–193; 1979/1984, pp. 99–168) wrote widely on, though this is often disputed in case of the latter (unjustly so, see Fowler, 2020, p. 441f.).
Both Bourdieu and Fowler ultimately support ‘the notion of men and women as agents, not merely because they are determined in their relations of production, but because they are elements of a structure which exists in and through signifying practices’ (Fowler, 1997, p. 2). One implication of this view is that we need to relate these agents and their signifying practices to the structures they (re-)make. And we need to do this by closely following agents without losing sight of the broader picture. In what follows, I will try to put this into practice by following one group of agents in a specific context, namely parvenus in Higher Education (HE). A parvenu is usually understood as ‘a person from a low social or economic position who has suddenly become rich or powerful’ (OED, 2023). Figuring prominently in novels (for instance: Fallada, 1971), the broader public imagination and discourse (for instance: Gardner, 2009; Mone & Kelly, 2015; Young, 1973) but also in sociological work (Friedman, 2016; Reay et al., 2009), 1 it seems both timely and sociologically relevant to look at parvenus. This is so also because they are very often linked to, indeed may embody, change and social transformations (Bourdieu, 2004/2008).
Parvenus, then, are both movers and moved. They move the imagination of what is (im-)possible, by their very existence, but also, potentially at least, through their acts in their chosen activities. But they are just as well moved by the structures that they embody, and which inhibit them. But what exactly are these moving structures? How do they sediment themselves in the habitus of parvenus? And what consequences can this have for their actions and thinking?
I shall tackle these questions in a way that is an extension of the distinctive approach to Bourdieusian sociology exemplified in Bridget Fowler’s oeuvre. This approach, first, is aware of, and utilises, the theoretical and conceptual wealth of sociology to make sense of current phenomena (see Fowler, 2021, p. 274f.). Second, it respects the historical and genetic dimension implied in our current state, which needs to be recovered and brought to consciousness (Fowler, 2006, p. 100). Third, it will do so from a broadly materialist foundation, which attempts to flexibly link first-person emotions, stories and interactions to broader, yet detailed structures and conditions of existence (Fowler, 1997, p. 7; 2007, p. 371). Thereby, it aims to transcend the limitations of both reductive materialism and idealism (Fowler, 1997, p. 8).
The first part of the article sets the epistemological stage by presenting Bourdieu’s theory of the scientific field as a semi-autonomous cultural space (Bourdieu, 1975; 2006, pp. 50ff.; Fowler, 1997). This space demands as a ‘price of entry’ the acquisition of particular tastes and dispositions. It thus has the effect of changing (to varying degrees) the habitus of those that undergo this process of entry. Within that space there are orthodox and heterodox positions that can be chosen by the novice – i.e. priests or prophets (Fowler, 2020). What position is likely chosen depends on the interplay of academic-structural factors vs personal habitus. This implies a degree of agency, which I illustrate in the second part through an empirical case study from my research with what I will call ‘recognised’ German economics students (Winzler, 2019). I also show how elements of the old petit bourgeois habitus of the students can still be seen active in their new environment. I do this by utilising the notion of ‘vertical mobility’ (Saint-Martin, 2011), thereby providing nuance to the given discussion around parvenus.
I am, in other words, interested in tracing the conservation of specific class fraction dispositions across field boundaries, and how they are symbolically and institutionally buffered. The interplay of economic academic field and particular parvenus seems to produce mostly priestly parvenus, though there are some signs of prophetic dissent and even of symbolic revolution as well. A specification and sharpening of both conceptual tools and empirical procedures, I will hold in the conclusion, can help to account for these findings.
Mismatches – Higher education and parvenus
This piece looks at parvenus in the academic field. We thus need to first clarify the features of that field. Science, for Bourdieu, is a ‘world apart’ (Bourdieu, 2006, pp. 32–84), a field of its own with a (more or less) autonomous book of rules, its own prizes and ways of doing and seeing the world; in short, its own structures. An academic field that sets the search for ‘truth’ as the highest ideal of excellence thus poses an ideal of disinterestedness, as do other cultural fields (such as art; see Fowler, 1997, pp. 43–68). It therefore sets itself apart from both political and economic fields. In economics, as a specific academic discipline, these rules are expressed in the use of a deductive-mathematical ontology (Lawson, 2006) that includes the extensive use of models (Morgan, 2012; Yonay & Breslau, 2006). Often undertaken from a neoclassical theoretical viewpoint (Colander, 2005), such ‘rules of the game’ need to be learned and internalised by everyone wishing to enter the field of academic economics. The learning process implies a change of dispositions, a focus on some aspects of reality at the cost of others, which in turn gives rise to new dispositions (Goffman, 1961/2013, pp. 15–81). According to Bourdieu, there are certain groups and classes that are very well-adjusted to these ‘rules of the game’. While not having prior knowledge about the field, they do have basic dispositions and experience that facilitate the acquisition of such knowledge. Their experience usually correlates heavily with social characteristics, above all class, but also gender and ethnicity. Upper- or middle-class children (from professorial or university-graduation backgrounds) that have such basic dispositions are thus called Inheritors (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1964/1979).
The basic social dispositions of students from backgrounds without such cultural capital (especially from non-university backgrounds) do not fit that well with the field’s requirements. Nevertheless, if they, despite this disadvantage, make their way into it, this introduces a tension. Any habitus can never be completely re-modelled, only adjusted (Wacquant, 2014, p. 5f.). There is thus a structural mismatch between parvenus and the wider field which can be at the root of (revolutionary) change in the discipline (Fowler, 2012, pp. 5–7). It is, first, interesting to see if and how this mismatch is shown empirically. Second, we can compare the empirical expression of this mismatch with expressed dispositions of students with another habitus. We can thereby gain impulses or clues towards further exploration.
The following interview excerpts are based on a project that explored study selection amongst specific German economics students (Winzler, 2019). The project had an originally inductivist orientation (albeit with a clearly Bourdieusian theoretical orientation; see Wacquant, 2014, p. 6), focused on finding out how certain students think about their subject, and how this can be linked to their social origin (especially the class or class fraction from which they come). Most of the originally chosen students (n = 57) were ‘recognised’ by the academic discipline in the sense that they had already achieved some kind of disciplinary recognition – i.e. being accepted to a PhD programme; being accepted as a research or teaching assistant (a rare and distinguished position in German academia; see Regelmann, 2004). Thus, they can be said to have accumulated something of an initial amount of ‘field-specific capital’, characteristic of these worlds apart (Bourdieu, 2006, pp. 32ff.). I focused on one particular, field-specific expression of social origin and disregarded others which are surely also present within HE 2 (students geared towards business, or politics, for example). I interviewed 40 of these recognised students about their routes into the discipline of economics, their impressions and decisions while studying it, as well as their plans for the future (Winzler, 2019, pp. 131–143). Only a small fraction of these 40, namely seven students, are parvenus as defined here (see for similar definitions for instance Loveday, 2015, p. 573f.; Reay et al., 2009, p. 1104). This means they have no one in their immediate family that studied and graduated at an HE Institution (HEI). Nor do they come from monied social origins. In other words, they are from a working-class or petit bourgeois background.
In this article, perhaps somewhat against the grain of the (British) sociology of HE, I look at (and concentrate on) what a particular group of students has to say about their discipline (rather than broader society, social class, student everyday life or other issues). The point is to identify, indeed to reimagine (Willis, 2000, pp. 23–33), the meaning of these thoughts and decisions through linking them to social characteristics and processes. If we do want to find out something about how parvenus practically deal with the structural mismatches they supposedly embody and cause, we need to methodologically set these mismatches within a definite (field) frame that allows for further theoretical and conceptual innovation (Healy, 2017, p. 119), not least through comparison with other frames (Vaughan, 2014). Indeed, bigger issues like class, gender or ethnicity are often illuminated as broader issues through the ways in which they are expressed within limited ‘individual’ or ‘private’ areas (Mills, 1959).
Parvenus as minor priests
Can decisions and attitudes of parvenu students in economics be fruitfully linked to the structural misfit to which they are, theoretically, subject? Let us first explore the general outlook of this group of parvenu students towards their subject and work out its specificity vis-a-vis more established (middle-class) economics students. The parvenus of my sample differ in important ways from the recognised students of more privileged origin (i.e. those for whom at least one parent has studied at university). For one thing, they tend to be relatively less focused on economic theorising, i.e. the areas most valued in the discipline (Pieters & Baumgartner, 2002). Instead, their focus is linked more to what may be called its more practical, but also more subordinated elements, such as business administration, 3 statistics and econometrics.
Lennard, whose father drives a truck and whose mother manages a hotel, appreciates the tangibility of accounting in this economics degree: I did [this] economics Introduction affair. Ah. And accounting. Like balance sheets, [in English] financing, that sort of stuff. Exactly. That was so much fun somehow, because it was a different, and it was so practical and – And that, that I somehow continued.
With Leo (Father: electrotechnical instructor at medium-sized company, Mother: housewife), the taste for the practical is expressed in an affection for econometrics: Yeah, I mean the practical, the practical work with data. To seek out, to find out relationships that are not that obvious, that fascinated me quite quickly. Especially if you become more stable with Econometrics in terms of theories and models. I found that fascinating, everything you can do with it. Effectively when you augmented your tool-box in the empirical area a bit. Then the possibilities grow very fast.
Tom (Father: informatics systems administrator, Mother: medium level civil servant) likes to get his hands on economic data as well: I was interested more in the method part, right? I mean, how do I estimate, how, ahm, do I collect data correctly? How, ahm, how do I analyse correctly, right? I mean if I see econometric models, then it is often the case that people throw in there things that do not belong there, right?
Compare this with the taste for theory of some of the students with a more middle-class origin. Aaron (Father: judge, Mother: legal assistant) makes clear his preferences lie with theory when talking about experiments:
I mean, I would like to, when I have to do an experiment [. . .] have a relatively clear statement, whether this has a causal connection or not, yes. [. . .] Only correlations. . . don’t find that that exciting and also the way to work, I mean, I like to engage in, ahm, like, mental work. I mean the other stuff is mental work, too, but let’s say if I draft an experiment, then. . . a part of it is, ah, the construction, right?
Hm.
I would say it is a, it is a third of the work, overall. . . Alas! If at all. Maybe 15%, 15% of the work to develop the idea, and then the methodology. But then you already have 80% for, ahm, I mean this is 80% of your success. At least. Yeah, I mean.
That is decisive.
Yes, yes, exactly, that is absolutely decisive, effectively. [. . .] And if I now work theoretically, then I say ok, that’s what I do all the time, to furnish proof and so on, that basically is the main part and for that I probably use my main time. And then I write the paper and that is again somehow, also again 10%, yeah. I really have devoted the main part of my time for what actually is the decisive thing. [. . .] And that I find quite nice.
These students tend to have a more relaxed, really more self-assured relation to theory. Peter (Father: economist and civil servant, Mother: biology teacher at secondary school) prefers to ‘fiddle about’ with economics and compares it to boardgames:
You take certain assumptions, and tinker so long until you have something that you like, right? I mean it’s like. . . like, like chess, right? Chess has no reference to reality. You have a couple of rules, and then you play. And the game is either fun, or not, and you can be good, and you can be bad. Hh? The same with economics. Ahm.
Ok. economics is like chess. Because-
Aeh. You can do economics like chess. It is, I don’t have a problem with that.
There is more open critique with regard to the teaching of economics with these ‘inheritor’ students (Winzler, 2019, pp. 195–235). Many parvenus of my sample, on the other hand, are less ‘playful’. This can also be seen in their pronounced taste for stability and security when choosing their subject. Leo, for instance, considered sociology but found it ‘interesting but too insecure’. Tom admits his choice of subject was ‘completely egoistic’ as he thought about material riches first, whereas Lennard remembers that his ‘professional view’ and lack of perceived security kept him from applying for a philosophy or psychology degree. Apart from this, these parvenus really underline the essential, ruling idea of excellence in their new field. This goes hand in hand with a quite conspicuous acceptance of the orthodox deductive-normative approach in economics.
Characteristically, for example, Lennard condones the reigning deductive-mathematical ontology of orthodox economics: We can perceive tendencies. And this translation from theory, empirical content and quantitative analysis was really exciting. So that you then can make statements. Like inference-statements of [. . .] a sample, of a basic population. And this with a methodical approach, ah, how do I ask people, how do I observe people. Like, what can I derive from it? What could be interference factors that influence that.
Vincent (Father: technical clerk, Mother: working in industrial management) also agrees: I mean I first put everything into formulas, and that I only did because you can. . . structure your data better this way, I mean I find that very helpful for me simply and I think Economists also like to do it in this way, ahm, simply to write down the effects formally, and I would never claim that this is the true model. [. . .] It simply helps me to structure my thoughts and to bring them across well.
In their endorsement of ‘neat’ models such statements echo authors like Milton Friedman (1953) and his specific support of mathematical empiricism. This goes along with quite open rejection of other epistemologies. Here is Tom’s view: I mean what I find good on this model theoretical [stuff] that I do is. . . You have, you have a model. And you have clear assumptions, right? I have to formulate which assumptions I take. How do I define the utility function. Yes, what are, what are the central elements? Better put, what are the central assumptions that produce my statements, ahm, at the end, right? I mean I do not produce the statements of the model, but I simply put assumptions into it, and out of that comes an answer to a question that I put, right? [. . .] And the important thing is, you have formulated clear and succinct assumptions at the beginning, right? And these can be criticised [. . .] You simply have clear points of attack and clear definitions, you can discuss very clearly with it, right? And if you compare this with many social scientific things, there it is often the case that you, that you discuss, you can discuss the whole evening and somehow it does not progress, or you still haven’t understood the other person, because you haven’t put down these assumptions this specifically, right? And it is similar with mathematical models, right? I mean with mathematical models it is simply clear. Right? I can look at it, I know it is right or wrong. At least on the mathematical level, and then I can clearly discuss it. And that I find is often much harder and fuzzier with legal or social scientific questions, and I am also not that good on that terrain in my view. Can’t do it, there are other people that can do that splendidly, I can’t do that.
Here is a clear, and honest, statement about the particular taste for the deductive-nomological approach in economics, a particular conceptualisation of what constitutes ‘good science’. In sum, this is a position-taking inclined towards the perspectives of what could be called a sort of ‘establishment’ priest (albeit a minor one) (Fowler, 1997, p. 32), defending and fostering orthodoxy: ‘Their interests are bound up with the established state of the field and they are the natural defenders of the “normal” science of the day’ (Bourdieu, 2006, p. 35).
Such focus may, indeed, point towards a certain tension which parvenus are subjected to in their progress into and through the academic field. Most parvenus of my sample arguably lack visible signs of a structural mismatch. They adhere, with quite a lot of ‘cultural goodwill’, to the given orthodoxy, and also seem to refrain from more prestigious theoretical endeavours by focusing on ‘practical’ aspects of their academic field. From Bourdieu’s educational studies it is well-known that social ascendancy is often followed by over-adaptation to the rules of the field (Bourdieu, 1996, p. 22; Bourdieu & Passeron, 1964/1979, pp. 62–64). The flipside of such a process tends to be a rejection of other ways of doing science, and even of one’s own earlier selves, a certain cultural shame (Bourdieu, 1996, p. 108f.; 2004/2008, p. 62). This latter response, however, I was not able to observe in my sample. Nevertheless, the statements presented above may indicate how the structural misfit of parvenus and their field is resolved practically. However, as ‘talk may be cheap’ (Jerolmack & Khan, 2014), only a more comprehensive (perhaps ethnographic) approach could answer such a question. But then, it may also be interesting and fruitful now to stretch the sociological imagination towards a different interpretation. What if the group of students labelled as ‘parvenus’ here actually carry over some of the dispositions of their existing habitus into the academic field?
Parvenus in limbo
There is a tendency within the sociological literature to equate the structural fact of parvenudom or ‘social mobility’ with at least individual disruptions and contradictions (Friedman, 2016; Ingram, 2011). This work emphasises the emotional distress and labour that result from the structural mismatch between parvenus and their field (position). The insights, lucidity and at least potentially subversive potential in the new field that follow from that are central. For example, the ‘upward mobility’ linked to parvenus is often quickly linked to concepts like ‘hysteresis’ (the time lag of habitus adaptation to their new environment) and ‘cleft habitus’ (the internal contradiction of habitus dispositions; see Friedman, 2016), but also ‘habitus dislocation’ (Reay, 2021). It thus almost appears as if upward mobility (the experience of being a parvenu) is somehow naturally/essentially linked with visible, subjective adaptation problems. Such problems are taken to be an issue (at least potentially) for the field as well. Overall, there indeed seems to be an assumption of rather drastic disjunction between parvenus and higher education, of ‘different worlds’ in which parvenus are ‘fish out of water’.
On the other hand, sociological explanations other than those depending on the idea of a structural-subjective (mis)fit are conceivable. Being a parvenu, in practice, does not necessarily need to end in hysteresis, perhaps not even in structural mismatches. Is it not possible that, instead of being cleft or dislocated, the habitus of those who are parvenus may end up being well-reconciled with their new field? After all, Bourdieu emphasises the adaptive and, in the end, conservative quality of habitus which is able to ‘reasonably adapt to a new environment to a certain degree’ (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 129f.). Certainly, such alternative readings where parvenudom does ‘not necessarily imply a break with habitus’ (Friedman, 2016, p. 135) are possible and acknowledged. For this to be expanded from a Bourdieusian viewpoint, one needs to ask what, then, could be conserved while parvenus ascend to their places in the academic field?
The answer may be contained in what Monique Saint-Martin calls ‘vertical mobility’ (Saint-Martin, 2011, p. 433f.). Social fields tend to be organised according to their proximity or distance to the different poles of main capital forms (cultural vs economic). This fact creates different modes of social ascendancy and descent (or movement) as well. While a ‘transversal’ movement implies horizontal movement to different fields and, accordingly, a necessary adaptation to quite different, field-specific, doxa, a ‘vertical’ movement signifies a certain stability. There, too, may be different fields involved, but there is a certain similarity and quite easy conversion of doxa amongst them. The unquestioned assumptions given and necessary for their functioning may be alike (Saint-Martin, 2011, pp. 433ff.). Could it be that the parvenus of my sample are ‘vertically mobile’ in this sense? Only a deeper engagement with the specific interplays of social structure with individual choices (e.g. Fowler, 1997, pp. 13ff., 34ff., 57ff.) promises to yield a tentative answer to such a question.
It’s a match! Vertical parvenu mobility
A closer look at the parvenus of my sample reveals that they originate from a rather specific background in social space. Not really working class in any strict definition, this position may be called petit bourgeois. More precisely, they often come from professional backgrounds that require a certain technical cultural expertise (IT system administrator, truck driver, technical clerk, civil servant). Horizontally speaking, these seem intermediate, central positions in social space (Bourdieu, 1979/1984, pp. 351–354) situated between positions dependent on economic capital (like old shopkeepers, older small entrepreneurs; pp. 346–351) and those dependent on cultural capital (like new cultural intermediaries, primary school teachers; pp. 354–365). Dispositions linked to this position include a rigorous self-discipline geared towards social ascent, a modest progressivism as well as the typical asceticism and cultural good-will (Fowler, 1997, p. 49). Vertically speaking, these intermediate positions also seem quite analogous to those specific, more upper-class, centrist positions of social origin of the middle-class inheritors of my sample. These are natural science teachers in secondary schools, graduated engineers and university-graduated civil servants.
The modest-progressive, ascetic outlook also fits well with the rather centrist position of the ‘state science’ (Bourdieu, 2005, p. 10) of academic economics. It is an accepted science that offers legitimate and relatively safe avenues for social advancement (Fourcade et al., 2015). The narrowing down of cognitive focus required by its mathematical-deductive and neoclassical outlook seems to be matched well with the asceticism and rigorous self-discipline to which these parvenus are arguably prone. This alignment is also evident in the critical response characteristic of these students towards alternative social sciences or humanities. The alleged propensity is to ‘discuss the whole evening and somehow it does not progress, or you still haven’t understood the other person, because you haven’t put down these assumptions this specifically’, as Tom puts it. There is some initial evidence here of the genesis of a justification that may legitimise (and thereby conserve) a formerly existing ‘common’ disposition through reference to a seemingly autonomous and ‘objective’ methodology and technique (Lebaron, 2001). The prior disposition towards ‘clarity’ of the class fraction may ‘lock in’, or ‘fit’, easily, given the alternatives in this microcosm. The available identity of the defender of ‘sensible’ and ‘intelligible’ deductive-nomological model exercises pits its holder against ‘planless’ or ‘too subjective’ (Lennard) endeavours like those perceived to be typical of, say, sociology, literary studies or other humanities subjects. One may be seen as a possible subjective equivalent for an objective fit with a particular subject and epistemology that asks for clear distinctions of ‘facts’ vs ‘norms’ (Lipsey & Chrystal, 1966/2007) proven by ‘clear’ and ‘objective’ methods. And there is also, most likely, a strong link not only to the specific habitus of a class fraction, but also to that of gender. The typical masculine disposition of ‘detachment’ appears to shine through the statements of many of these parvenus (see Nelson, 1993) and may express transformed ‘serious masculine honour’ (Fowler & Wilson, 2004, p. 107).
Thus, these apprentice economists can be seen to perform a ‘vertical’ shift which suggests the retaining of certain aspects of habitus/dispositions and continued pertinence of an existing ‘structure of personal assets’. This is similar to the child of a primary teacher that becomes a professor, or a shopkeeper’s son rising to the top of a national company (Bourdieu, 1996, pp. 57–59). If so, the transformation of HE goes hand in hand with the conservation and transmogrification of important class fraction dispositions. But there is more.
Stray parvenus as prophets
Surely, there is no necessary link between centrist petit bourgeois background and adoption of orthodox deductive-nomological economic methods. Between the two lies a period of both individual and collective assessment, evaluation and action that produces this outcome actively.
What is more, there are two deviators in my sample who openly reject the orthodoxies of their chosen subject, thus pointing towards alternative ways to do economics and to be an economist. They could therefore be called ‘prophets’ (Bourdieu, 2006, p. 35; Fowler, 2020, pp. 450–453). Anna (Father: small entrepreneur, Mother: housewife) and John (Father: bank clerk, Mother: medium-level civil servant) first tell familiar stories of how they got into economics. Anna talks about ‘being more security-fixated’ in her initial choice for business administration while John initially wanted to go for an apprenticeship to become a medium civil servant (‘then you are employed for life’). He also reports his enthusiasm for neoclassical economics which made ‘everything explainable’ for him at first. But there are experiences that push both away from the orthodoxy of the subject towards a more rebellious, heterodox stance. Anna describes her rejection of mainstream economics after she came into contact with what is now summarily called pluralist economics (International Student Initiative for Pluralism in Economics [ISIPE], 2014): I had, like, this basic dissatisfaction where you thought in the beginning you mainly have it for yourself. You only recognised in the course of study that you share it with other fellow students. Ahm, and then I was with [a student organisation that also hosts alternative economics events], and there I somehow got to know more people, who thought more alternatively. And then X [fellow student of hers] and I, don’t know how that came to fruition. . . but we somehow had the idea of founding these reading circles. Because we said, man, we want. . . also to read other things, than what we [normally read in economics]. And I think I somehow had, in a certain way, well, I probably would have finished the studies, but it has after all, it has [given] me, opened up, a very different relationship to Political Economy somehow.
John also joined (and is now very active in) the pluralist network after becoming suspicious of the orthodoxy taught in classes (‘It was partially, with all these assumptions. . . I found that a little questionable’) and after taking a course with a heterodox economist: And then I just saw. . . first that economics isn’t as holistic as, as it was presented in the first one and a half years [of his studies]. And moreover, that there is exactly what I liked in [secondary] school with economics, these debates between actually very different paradigms, yeah?
Interestingly, the ‘deviations’ above are justified by a similar reference to themes of practicality or tangibility as exhibited by the ‘orthodox’ parvenus. Here, however, they are redirected in their meaning. Anna criticises the ‘irrelevant’ character of orthodox economics in which ‘you do something that nobody understands’. John became frustrated that the neoclassical models (which he liked at first) did not become ‘more realistic, only more complex’. These kinds of frustrations mirror a broader, international movement of economics students (as well as of some staff) towards a more ‘real-world’ science (ISIPE, 2014). Sociologically, such rifts suggest a heterodox positioning that struggles with the orthodoxy for change or conservation (Bourdieu, 2006, p. 35).
According to Bourdieu, a revolutionary ‘cleft habitus’ is one which would combine and reconcile hitherto antagonistic aspects and tendencies otherwise kept apart by the field. Scientific revolutions in science thus use a tradition to go beyond that tradition while conserving part of that same tradition. This implies mastery of the given tradition (Bourdieu, 2006, p. 64; Petzke, 2022, pp. 490–498). By contrast, non-scientific revolutions always endlessly tend to start from zero, retaining or building on the complementary forces already given, by ‘playing off one game against another’ (Fowler, 1997, p. 32). Their agents employ symbolic strategies such as ‘facile radicalism’ (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1964/1979; Fowler, 1997, pp. 50–53) to bring this about. To distinguish which is which we need to have a closer look at exactly how these prophet parvenus relate to their subject.
Against what she terms the ‘bullshit’ conceptions of orthodox economics, Anna brings in ideas of excellence that she describes as ‘holistic’ or ‘relevant’. This includes her introducing moral and political categories when talking about ‘justice’, and criticising orthodox students as ‘relatively unsocial’ and ‘inconsiderate’ people. By contrast, Anna wishes to write an ‘easily accessible economics book’ about the monetary system for the general market. She aspires to ‘no pure university career’, perceiving a strong topical restriction at universities making her feel that she needs ‘to write what is expected of me’. She wants to be ‘freer’, but wishes to ‘remain in contact’ nevertheless. Indeed, such attitudes and statements point less towards the role of a revolutionary and more towards that of a populariser (in the way that Bourdieu describes for the new petit bourgeoisie, see 1979/1984, p. 325f.). There are clear, mutually exclusive position-takings shown in most excerpts that would suggest a certain integrated, complementary heterodoxy (Fowler, 1997, p. 32) rather than the combination of things formerly kept apart.
John also labels orthodox economics as ‘bullshit’. But nevertheless, and unlike Anna, he is firmly focused on this ‘bullshit’. There seems a certain sense of duty linked to this which compels John to work very hard and to read extensively:
It was [a course in his economics studies] there I still know, I have, ah [. . .] before Christmas I had a look at the book list. Then got the books. [. . .] [Talking about a particular book] It was recommended, it was not necessary, but recommended as additional literature, and then I read it completely over Christmas
But it is 400 pages or something, right?
Yeah, yeah, but this was the way I was back then. In principle, in the first two years [of my studies] I did not do much else than learning. Right? [. . .]
And you didn’t get tired-
Nope.
- to read this stuff? Why not? Simply-
Yeah, I, I liked it after all. And I also thought I had to do it. Back then I was totally paranoid, I thought if I don’t do that I won’t pass.
It seems that he is able to mediate his initial political impetus and motivation – following his father, he was very early (‘by far the youngest’) active in left social democratic politics in a large German city, obtaining leading positions – into a specific economic-academic project. As he says: ‘Generally, I liked political debates, and I thought [economics] is a discipline where such things exist as well.’ As this is not really the case for orthodox economics, he attempts to bring it about by working within a specific heterodox area. Yet, on the other hand, he seems to have an acute sense of what can, and cannot be, legitimately talked about: I in no way feel qualified to work for a bank after having graduated [in economics], or for an insurance, or for an accountancy firm. Because I have not learned how a bank functions, what an accountant does [. . .] I have learned how to maximise functions, in principle, that’s it, how you calculate optima.
He is against the utility-maximising hypothesis and wishes to reintegrate micro- and macroeconomics. All this for him is ‘quite some bullshit’ which he nevertheless takes ‘seriously because I want to understand it’. In these pronouncements there is an implicit respect for different fields and their autonomy, and therefore for one’s own field, and its boundaries. Moreover, his skills are recognised by economics professors. He has, already during his undergraduate studies, received prizes (from orthodox scientists) for his work. He continues to publish widely in his chosen heterodox speciality. It could well be that this parvenu may eventually turn into a fully-fledged scientific revolutionary.
The differential degree of symbolic integration into the game, palpable in Anna’s and John’s statements, pushes us to a deeper consideration of parvenudom. Not only are there different trajectories open to parvenus of similar background within the field of economic science (i.e. priests and prophets). These trajectories are differentiated in themselves, possibly along gendered lines, as the overwhelmingly male and mathematised outlook of even the heterodox economics sub-field suggests (Heise & Thieme, 2016, p. 1108, Table 1).
Conclusion – Transformation and conservation
In this piece I have argued for an expansion of the meaning and field of investigation of parvenus, elsewhere explored under the rubric of ‘upward mobility’ or ‘social ascendancy’. I have explored and reimagined the possible links between parvenu social origin and stances taken within the particular academic field of economics. This field, into which only a few students (aspire to) enter, is only one part of HE (Winzler, 2024). Likewise, the academically recognised parvenu students discussed here are surely only one fraction of parvenus within the HE system. Many other stances (political, business-oriented) are possible and even likely now that parvenus become, in the wake of an ever-growing system, more numerous in HE (Wakeling, 2010). I have explored the links of the structural position of parvenus with their experiences and position-takings within the academic field of economics. I have found mostly stances towards ‘priestly’ support for orthodox economics, but also some ‘prophetic’ deviation towards heterodox economics. I have also applied a novel concept to this relationship – that of ‘vertical mobility’ – which allows us to construct a fuller concept of parvenu than has hitherto been applied in the literature.
So far, the term has been used to describe someone rising in status and/or wealth. Checking for vertical mobility would mean looking for already existing capitals (or at least proto-capitals). This also implies blunting or qualifying the (often sharp) contrasts made between parvenu habitus and field requirements, so often found in the literature on ‘social mobility’ in HE. Such a qualification seems all the more urgent in times of ever-growing working-class and petit bourgeois participation in HE (Wakeling, 2010, p. 44f.). It can help to recognise the specificity, both of the experience and of the social origin, of particular groups of parvenus. In my sample this would be the sub-group of petit bourgeois parvenus with their technical cultural capital that is more reminiscent of inheritors. By extension, such specification may also help to emphasise the particularity of those parvenus without much prior detectable forms of capital. In other words, the initially proposed structural mismatch of embodied vs environing structures should therefore more likely be ‘undisturbed’ by other influences. These more extreme and ‘pure’ cases could serve as analytically clearer empirical case studies for studying the concepts usually associated with parvenudom (hysteresis, cleft habitus, etc.). Such distinctions would also help to better understand potential feedback effects of the discipline-changed habitus to the social environment (family, friends).
A conception of the parvenu specified in this way can assist us in thinking about just which specific social origins and combinations of social class, gender, ethnicity, geographical origin, etc. statistically fit into which kinds of disciplinary waters. A broader, comparative study that looks at parvenus in different disciplinary settings would both test and expand the tentative conjectures made in this piece. Such a project would require a more specific recording of social origins, above all in terms of social class (often fuzzily recorded in current quantitative and qualitative approaches). Doing so may make it possible to link specific sets of social origin with specific disciplines, and thus to potentially map out avenues of likely parvenu trajectories and destinations. These could then be compared with one another, uncovering new pathways of hitherto hidden regularities as well as making visible formerly unseen forms of (cultural) capital at work. Obviously, this has the potential to significantly enhance the critical awareness and reflexivity of epistemological monocultures within particular disciplines. It can provide us with vital new reflexive resources to understand better both some individual ‘choices’ and the disciplines to which they refer (Lamont, 2009). These ‘objective’ avenues could then be supplemented with research into the ways in which they are experienced, shaped and justified by the parvenus in question – looking for example at the habitus-guided orientation towards specific theories, methods or topics within a particular context during their studies and field entry.
Part of this insight would obviously also have a historical, horizontal dimension. It would help to undergird the understanding of institutional-structural changes that have occurred within HE during the last decades (Evans, 2004; Slaughter & Leslie, 1999). This refers to the relationship of disciplines to outside fields and forces (university administration; politics, economic agents, pressure groups, journalism, etc.). It is, therefore, also questions of scientific autonomy (Fowler, 2006) that one turns to. What institutions within HEIs do parvenus help to (re-)create, expand or contract? How do their more or less coordinated actions contribute to the defence or erosion of academic freedom, for instance via moralisation (Gingras, 2022) or political pressure? Do they spur or prevent (scientific) revolutions in particular disciplines? How do parvenus interact with, work together with or contradict other groups in academia such as the inheritors? Any satisfactory answer to these questions will, in any case, have to account both theoretically and empirically for the close complementarity of reproduction and transformation (Fowler, 2020, p. 459f.).
Footnotes
Funding
This work was supported by the Economic and Social Research Council [ESRC Ref No: ES/J500136/].