PAUL PEACHEY

My task is to respond sociologically regarding the place of the person in social life: in what manner and to what degree is the human self determined by social structure? In what manner and to what degree are social structures the products of the human "mind" or agency? Beyond that, is their a "core self," not reducible to its social antecedents? As this is a cross_c ultural and interdisciplinary study, I will comment first on problems of sociological approaches to the relations of persons and social structures, and then will address the consequences of societal modernization for the person_society nexus.

As we know, the above questions, indirectly if not directly, have engaged human thought from the beginning of recorded history. In the modern era, however, and particularly since the nineteenth century, new possibilities have arisen in our efforts to deal with them. Human mastery of environments, both physical and social, is vastly expanding. Processes and events that hitherto appeared inscrutable are being deciphered and brought under control. Mysteries once interpreted in moral and religious terms yield to empirical analysis. Contrary to older philosophical and reli gious traditions, the human phe nomenon is now explicated in naturalistic terms. "S oul," "mi nd," and "sp irit"--whatever be the referents of these terms--increasingly appear as mere epiph enomena.

A litany of pathologies plague us__alie nation, root lessness, delin quency, cr ime, drug abuse , homele ssness, broken marriages and fam ilies, and the like. Are these phenomena mere growing pains, we are left to wonder, or are they in fact endemic in modern societies? Does "moder nization" in the end improve our human fate, or does it simply bring new misery?

Concretely this transition, for which we now use the umbrella concept, modernization, means the attenuation, even the dissolution, of pri mordial interpersonal configurations of blood and land into individuals or "citizen isolates."¹ Thus atomized, these units become available for recombination into systems more extensive and ostensibly more rational, orderly and resilient than were the tradition_bound systems that preceded them. Li berty, frat ernity and equa lity, the revolution of 1789 announced, would spring from the ashes of the ancien regime. Not everyone agreed, of course, and when disorder following the French revolution persisted well into the nineteenth century, second thoughts about the old order surfaced with increasing insistence.

In retrospect, medieval society came to be idealized for its communal soli darity. Edmund Bu rke, the conservative English critic of the French revolution, proposed that community, as embodied in medieval society, unites the living with the dead and the unborn. Human institutions cannot be dismantled or established arbitrarily. Auguste Co mte, (1798_1857), the French scholar who coined the term `socio logy' was another who found virtue in med ieval society. The medieval order, he observed, possessed an organic sol idarity that was violated by the atomis tic and rational pretensions of the revolutions, both political and industrial. The task now was to reassemble the Humpty Dumpty that these revolutions had knocked off the wall. Co mte himself, however, as a child of the Enli ghtenment that had sired the revolution, no longer accepted the faith that apparently had inspired and unified medieval society. The "Grand Being," he proposed, is not G od, but rather so ciety writ large. To replace the lost revealed faith he offered what he regarded as a demonstrable faith, namely positivi sm. In that new religion, sci entists would replace priests.

Fortunately, Comte's new discipline, sociology, soon shed his extravagant claims, though traces of his illusions still persist. In any event, as sociology crystallized over the next half century, it was nurtured by other intellectual sources as well. These included utili tarianism and contract theory , the very indi vidualism that Comte had sought to combat, as well as various traditions of social reform. Nonetheless a Comtean legacy survived in the postulate that social facts are sui generis, not reducible to biological or psychological antecedents. This postulate became the foundation of a new science. Emile Dur kheim (1858_1917), heir to the Comtean legacy, made the consideration of "social facts" as "things" the "first rule of the sociological method."² That is, the forms and patterns of social intercourse are socially, rather than individually, engendered; personality likewise is socially constituted. This logic, when pursued unidimensionally, leads to the claim that "soci ety is everything, the individual nothing."

In effect, thus, the overthrow of the ancien regime led to the discovery of "society," the discovery of the fact that groups, of whatever size or scale, display characteristics that transcend the individuals that comprise them. Accordingly the activities in which individuals engage are socially determined in ways that the participants themselves do not perceive. Even when individuals "choose," both the possibilities and constraints defining their choices are socially structured. These constraints are seen as irreducible, whether biologically or psychologically. Only in the limiting case can the individual step outside society. Thus, "if one were to ask for an expression, in a single sentence, of the main accomplishment and direction of the social sciences to date, a fair answer would be the progressive substitution of soci ocultural explanations for those stressing the determinative influence of physical nature."³

As indicated, so ciology, the new discipline that emerged, was nurtured by a variety of sources, including the very indivi dualism that Co mte and Durk heim set out to combat. John Stuart Mi ll (1872), though not an immediate founding father of sociology, made the point succinctly: "Men are not, when brought together, converted into another kind of substance, with different properties . . . . Human beings in societies have no properties but those which are derived from, and may be resolved into, the laws of the nature of individual man."⁴

How do we best explain human behavior: by moving from groups to individuals, or by moving from individuals to groups? Are persons explicable as functions of the groups to which they belong, or are we on firmer ground to view groups as emanations or functions of the persons that comprise them? Sociology is biased in favor of the former; indeed, strictly speaking, sociology does not deal with individ uals as indivi_ duals. Explaining individual idiosyncracies is not a sociological task. No doubt, when speaking generally about human behavior, most sociologists would opt for both/and rather than either/or explanations. Operationally, however, it is difficult to incorporate both perspectives in the same research instrument. Investigations that measure both, along with the interactions between them, are complex and demanding, and hence rare. Moreover, since specific research, by its very nature, is narrowly focussed on discrete variables, broader, multidimensional configurations are inaccessible.

Meanwhile the human self has fared rather badly in the hands of the social sciences. Social formations and patterns are analyzed without reference to human agents or per sons. Moreover, the human self, if it exists, cannot be observed directly, and at best can be treated only inferentially. Consciousness, cog nition, subje ctivity, atti tudes and int entions are deliberately excluded from some analytical modes. These categories represent mere epiphenomena, without relevance in causal analysis.

In part, these arguments are plausible enough. The human animal is a biosocial phenomenon, the product, thus, of here dity and envi ronment, of nature and nurture . Sociology carved out its niche between the biological sciences on the one side and the huma nities on the other. If, however, the social phenom enon is indeed sui generis, it cannot be reducible merely to biological determinisms, on the one hand, or to metaphysical postulates, on the other. Within limits, then, the sociological claim is defensible in both directions.

Similarly, on the biological side, only in limited respects can social analysis be conducted without biological reference, whether to genetic predispositions, bodily drives, or psychic processes. Today, perhaps partly in reaction to onesided sociological claims, biologistic claims are being reasserted in the social domain, almost with a vengeance. Nonetheless human bi ology is unique in its anticipation of, and dependence upon, c ulture.⁵ As we know, Aris totle already aptly defined the human as a zoon politikon.

On the humanistic side, in pre_modern Western thought, reason was said to distinguish the human animal from other species. The met aphysical domain, to be attained only by the contempl ative powers of the mind, was thought to be more real than the imperfect world of appearances. Whether one invoked religi ous or philosophical language__humans created in the Divine image or Pl ato's ideas__metaphysical rootedness accounted for human uniqueness. Today, as we know, these notions have been reversed. Disciplined empirical observation, not introspection, is the route to understanding. Nothing is in the mind that has not entered by way of the senses, Desca rtes and even Aristo tle declared.⁶ Consciousness is now regarded by many analysts as merely epiphenomenal, "mind" as merely a function of the physiological processes of the brain: men tation as such is not an independent source of variation. The social process, then, is the key to understanding the person, but not vice versa.

What does it mean to say that the human is a zoon politikon? First, human beings are dependent on others even for bodily survival, both in their prolonged infancy/childhood and beyond. Secondly, the development of the capacities, traits and skills that distinguish the human is a social outcome, initially a by_product of physical dependency. Langu age, the vehicle of thought and communication, is socially produced and acquired. So fundamentally is this the case that we possess little information about human characteristics apart from, or outside of, group life or society. Without the company of others, the organism does not evince human traits. Persons normally bear the stamp of their particular social environment. Hence it seems appropriate to look for the antecedents of personality and behavior in the structure of the social setting in which persons live. We anticipate more or less congruence between per sonality struc ture and so cial structure in any given society.

Is this anticipation justified? First, what do we mean by social structure ? This question illustrates a problem that bedevils all social research. Social phenomena are configurative and emergent in character; this is reflected in the language of social discourse. Key concepts such as com munity, soc iety and fam ily, refer to highly complex configurations of social experience. The terms employed are often metaphorical, and in any case are freighted with rich connotations accumulated by long and diverse usage. Scientific operation, on the other hand, is disaggregative, reductionist, and literal. Each variable, each term incorporated into an analytical procedure must be specifiable. While some social objects are readily identifiable and mensurable__births and deaths, for example__most observations (and everyday terms) rest on mental constructs that must be decomposed to be empirically usable.

The concept of social structure is typical in this regard, though it also presents difficulties that are peculiar to it. It came into sociology analogically__societies resemble biological organisms. Within these, cells form specialized subsystems, serving entire organisms. Less frequently structural language evoked architectural and even geological imagery. Presumably, of course, any persisting entity, any pattern, any regularity possesses "structure." Regularities or patterns of social interaction thus fall under the general rubric of social structure. There is no single or standard definition of social structure. At that level of generality, several other terms have been used, in effect synonymously, among them notably "social organization ," "social order " and, less frequently, "social system ."

Social order seems to be used more frequently by writers other than sociologists. Among sociologists, however, str ucture and organization, when not defined technically, appear needlessly confused. Social organization, while obviously entailing structure, directs attention to the interdependence of dissimilar parts in an entity or system. It is aptly applied, therefore, to the institutional complex of the society. Institutional organization enables groups to act collectively as groups. Structure, on the other hand, refers to regularities generally, and thus includes far more than the mesh of institutions. Practically, this means that, apart from inclusively general uses, the concept of structure needs to be qualified, as when we speak of role or class structure.

Though a widely_used conceptual tool, in recent decades "structure" has also been used to designate theoretical schools__"structuralism," originating in French social anthropology, and "structural functionalism ," in American sociology. Radcliffe-B rown defined st ructure as "a set of relatively stable patterned relationship of units," a definition that foreshadowed the early formulation of Talcott P arsons, the leading exponent of structural functionalism in American sociology.⁷ Survival exigencies in societies generate functional specializations (institu tions); hence the term, "structural functional." Structure, for Parsons, was rooted in the normative order. Thus the social and cultural structures were seen as linked. Though functional requirements were universal, concrete structures were seen as situation_specific.

Individuals enter groups and society by assuming and performing roles, which are determined reciprocally and systemically in aggregate contexts. Women become wives when they take husbands, and vice versa. Sex is biologically given; wifeness and husbandness are social emergents, as are roles generally. As emergents, roles are ordered rather than randomly related. Ordering is embedded in the distributive processes. Hence the concept of "social structure" has served most effectively in role and (social) class analysis. O rder entails functional hierarchy and rank. Hence, when the term, social structure, appears, we are likely to think of stratificat ion and cl ass phenomena.

The point has been dramatized in the legacy of M arx, one of sociology's primary founding fathers, and underscored in other modes of reasoning by human ecologists. Key social positions arise in the adaptive process to constraints in the material environment. These positions are structurally, rather than volitionally, generated. Marx's phrasing is familiar: "It is not the consciousness of men that determines their being, but, on the contrary, their social being that determines their consciousness." His opus endlessly elaborates this postulate. Positions and relations in the productive process determine and shape individual and group chances in the the social process generally. But Marx also takes a further step. The "ensemble of social relations," thus constituted, constitute "the human essence" (Theses on Feuerbach).

Thus Ma rx can be read as a radical structural determi nist though, proceeding from a humanistic premise, he predicted a humanist outcome: in a classless future the contradiction between structure and freedom will evaporate. Meanwhile, however, in Marxist practice, persons tend to disappear. That, indeed, is the potential outcome of all structural theory. Strictly speaking, if social systems consist of related positions, those systems can be analyzed without reference to the individuals that occupy specific positions. Individuals are dispensable and interchangeable; organizational charts posted in head offices and textbooks illustrate the point. In modern states key government offices are fixed constitutionally, and elections are held periodically, not to create, but to fill, office s. The king is dead; long live the king!

Role theory , as already intimated, when elevated to the level of general theory, quickly leads to an "oversocialized conception of man."⁸ Max We ber, who has been called the "bourgeois Marx," though accepting from Ma rx the importance of economic determinants, rejected the causal mo nism that Marx's formula entailed. "Action is social," Weber proposed, "in so far as, by virtue of the subjective meaning attached to it by the acting individual (or individuals), it takes account of the behaviour of others and is thereby oriented in its course."⁹ In effect, We ber did, what George Ho mans was to demand decades later in his 1963 presidential address to the American Sociological Association: he brought "men back in" to sociological analysis.¹⁰

Human beings are not only objects acted upon by forces outside themselves. They are also subjects, agents, who initiate events. Human beings, in sociological jargon, must be recognized as both "dependent" and "independent" variables. The duality of homo internus and homo externus was recognized long before the rise of so ciology as a discipline. Martin L uther, for example, wrote: "I said time and time again that one should distinguish official function and person ality."¹¹ That is, neither the role nor the structure in which it is embedded fully embraces nor constitutes the homo internus. To the contrary, while structure determines personality, human actions and interactions in turn create and recreate structu res.¹²

Sociological reasoning is thus necessarily "dial ectical" and perhaps all too often, circular. For example, in the immediate post World War II decades, American cities underwent a "suburban explosion." By the time the explosion climaxed, the metropolis had become the habitat of the model American fam ily. Suburban housing and land use entailed important departures from both urban and small town patterns. Social critics pounced quickly on the social impact of these new environments. Large residential tracts, isolated from the "real world" and monotonously uniform in architecture, were said to produce conformist and superficially cuddly, middle class "life styles." The structure of this environment was seen as having directly negative consequences for the quality of life.¹³

Field studies, however, soon yielded a quite different account. Researchers found that the values and life styles that showed up in the suburbs were not the product of the new set tlement (the "structure"), but were brought there by the residents themselves. The new residents continued to live as they had lived before moving to the their new locations. The social patterns or "structures" characterizing the new settlements for the moment appeared as products rather than producers.¹⁴ Admittedly, at another level, the move to the suburbs itself could be described as "structurally" determined. Housing types were grouped by price and style. Incomes determined where people were likely or unlikely to locate. And incomes tended to correspond to other social class variables, notably education and occupation. Whatever the idiosyncratic variables affecting individual family choices to move to the suburbs, structural determinants

There is little justification today to debate the priority of structure and agency in the social process in either/or terms. As societies, structures and values evolve, the tide ebbs and flows. There will always be fresh analytical work to be done on both sides of the equation. Phenomena become more complex, and research technologies more sophisticated. But the wheel need not be reinvented. We need not demonstrate ever anew the power of the str uctures that operate behind our backs. Rather, we need somehow to plumb and to order the unstructured void into which advancing moder nization has plunged the isolated self. The revolut ions that constitute the modern era liberated us from the parochial bonds of kin and place, from the ignora nce, want, disease, supers titions, and bigotry that "determined" existence during the "dark ages." But it has left many "citizen isolates," stranded alone, as it were, on a dark windswept psychic desert. Persons thus stranded have reason to wonder whether the cure, modernization, may not be worse than the malady of premodern unde rdevelopment.

Impressed by this transformation, some analysts conclude that all communal formations (Gemeinschaft), including mar riage, fam ily, cla ns, localities and pa rishes, are destined to disappear. A few enthusiasts have already come forward with celebrative epitaphs for the passing family.

Personal community, all evidence suggests, is essential to the socialization of the young and, in differing manner and degree, to the stabilization of the adult. Personal communities are in part role_based, insofar resembling such larger, role based systems as ass ociations, corp orations and bure aucracies, whether public or private. Fa mil ies, too, are constituted by system positions: wife-husband, son-daughter, and the like. But families are families by virtue of the fact that the c ore s elf is engaged and committed. In role_based systems, on the other hand, the core self remains peripheral. Moreover, in fam ilies and all communal configurations role-sets overlap. Because the same people are continuously reencountered in different though overlapping role-contexts, the core self is exposed and committed to a much greater degree than is the case in secondary associations. Any particular transaction is related to, and has consequences for, other networks. The local merchant and his customers are also neighbors, relatives, fellow parishioners and the like. Overlapping obligations hover in the background of any particular transaction, constituting thus a moral fabric that knits the community. This same matrix bestows social location and identities to the young, and hence also framework and meaning.

When the communal fabric weakens, personal identity, social location, meaning and values are no longer bestowed (imposed) by communal groups, whether family or other, but are chosen by individuals from among the medley of alternatives surrounding them.¹⁵ Ego_based networks and "life style enclaves" replace solidary groups. Many, for reasons beyond their control, find the burden of choice overwhelming and fail in the effort. The result, as traced in a recent, widely_cited study, is an "empty self." The empty self is one that is freed from external constraints, ostensibly responsible only to itself. Such a self, Bel lah and associates write, "makes sense in a particular institutional context__that of the upward mobility of the middle_class individual who must leave home and church in order to succeed in an impersonal world of rationality and competition." They contrast the "empty self" with a "constituted self" that makes sense in another institutional context, namely, "in the full sense of the word, community."¹⁶ These two self concepts are "analytical constructs," neither extreme appearing concretely in the world. Nonetheless, they conclude that today we all "live somewhere between the empty and the constituted self." Our society, however, pushes us toward the former pole, toward an illusory "quest for purely private fulfillment" that "often ends in emptiness instead." This study, based on surveys and interviews, found much evidence of "empty selves" in American society, selves "socially unsituated," "ever more detached from the social and cultural contexts that embody . . . traditions."

Philip Rie ff offers a far more devastating critique in The Triumph of the Therapeutic. He outlines as follows a Freudian interpretation of the modern experience:

Freud, lacking "a constructive theory and (seeing) no therapeutically effective communities to which he could refer the patient in the post_analytic situation" espoused this third view. Whatever his disagreements with Freud, to Rieff the "triumph of the therapeutic" means "a profound effort to end the primary group moral passion (operating first through the fam ily) as the inner dynamic of social order. Crowded more and more together, we are learning to live more distantly from one another in strategically varied and numerous contacts, rather than in the oppressive warmth of family and a few friends."¹⁸ The "scientific endeavor in its entirety" is committed to the creation of "a non_moral culture," while the scientist, "in the established sense of the word, as such, has no culture."¹⁹ Beyond "the strengthening of the individual ego" (against both id and superego), Rieff concludes, Freud offered little hope.

Rieff's is a chilling verdict. If communal decline and rampant individualism are the source of breakdown in our culture, what hope is there in strengthening egos, thus encouraging more individualism? I am not competent to critique Freud, but am prepared to argue that Rieff's conclusion is not to be rejected out of hand. For however implausible his asoci al and amo ral view of human destiny, he confronts us with what may be the most conspicuous failure of the social sciences, namely our evasion of the self. Though tirelessly stressing the social nature of personality, we regularly evade the core of the se lf that transcends "the ensemble of our social relations." In soci ology, indeed in the social sciences generally, we operate without an adequate, commonly assumed anthropology; that is, a concept of the human person .

Descriptively, Rieff may be right. Modernization dissolves the solidary groups of traditional populations into role_based systems, on the one side, and autonomous individuals, on the other. Already in 1860, Henry Sumner Ma ine, the English legal historian, wrote that in "progressive societies . . . the Individual is steadily substituted for the Family as the unit of which the laws take account."²⁰ Since then, the social sciences have been fascinated by the vast new role_based systems and organizations, mobilizing these now_detached individuals to fill them. Controlling and transforming these formations is indeed a daunting task, and here information and insights generated by the social sciences are indispensable. Nonetheless, in their preoccupation with these macro systems, the sciences have too little noted the consequences, both positive and negative, of this substitution of the "Individual" for the solidary group in the scheme of things.

How can or will our communal capital be renewed? Currently, in the United States, even at best we are merely "muddling through," marking time, as it were. Rescinding the p ersonalism that has grown over the centuries is clearly not an option. But it is likewise clear that in this country our basic communal cohesion is in jeopardy. Though there are problems requiring structural reform, our problems appear to lie deeper. To return to the language of Be llah, the modern self needs to be re_"constituted" if the "empty self" is to be overcome. Once the society is individuated, social cohesion becomes a function of responsible selves rather than the converse.

In the American context, as we have seen, the sciences have tended to reduce or assimilate the human self to its biological and/or social constituents. Meanwhile, religion and philosophy remained the principal trustees of the transcendental dimensions of the self. But religious thought has been burdened either by pre_modern idioms in thought and practice, or in the other direction by too-ready capitulation to fads in these regards. More seriously both reli gion (in this case, Chris tianity) and philo sophy struggle with the collapse of traditional metaphy sics to which I alluded above.

Nonetheless, despite the seriousness of our problems, the outlook is far from bleak. The crisis clarifies issues that previously appeared muddled. To illustrate the possibilities I cite some theological observations offered by Albert Out ler, a Protestant scholar who served as observer at Vatican II. Outler, citing Ri eff, takes note of the "mercurial shifts in popular opinion in recent years . . . that are functions of the cataclysmic collapse of the moral_demand systems that have guided Western society (more or less) for two millenia." The focal question becomes, "what is the truly human, what are its real origins and grounds, what are its valid ends? If the human person is understood as divine intention, with a transcendental ground and context, this will surely guide our analysis of its origins." But while describing the collapse of `moral_demand' systems as catastrophic, he nonetheless sees "the deepest confusion in the debate" stemming from "the tradition of body_soul dualism" descending from Per sia via Gre ece through Western phil osophy and the ology to our own times. "It is confusing, since all its versions involve some kind of invidious comparison between `lower' and `higher' levels in the humanum, and it commits one to some sort of `magic moment theory' as to when and how animal tissue becomes `ensouled' or `animated'__and hence some `magic moment' along the human lifeline when the defenseless finally deserves to be defended."

that the primal origins, the continuing ground, and final ends of human life are truly transcendental. In the Christian tradition, at least, to be human and personal is to be God's own special creation. Our lives and our potential are ours on trust from God. They are, therefore, never at our own selfish disposal. All our human experiences (iden tity, fre edom, insig ht, h ope, lo ve) are also self_transcending__despite their being bracketed in space and time. The humanum is a genuine oddity, differing from its animal congeners not only in kind but in degree as well. . . .

Terms like `pe rson,' `perso nality,' `perso nhood,' `self' are all code words for a trans_empirical reality. Whatever it is that they denote does not `exist' in space and time or in the causal nexus; all our efforts at introspection are infinitely regressive. `Personhood' is not a part of the human organism, nor is it inserted into a process of organic development at some magic moment. It is the human organism oriented toward its transcendental matrix, in which it lives and moves and has its human being. The self is `there' long before self_consciousness or any self_conscious acceptance or rejection of the primal intention which it represents.²¹

1. Harry J. Hogan, "The Supreme Court and the Crisis in Lib eralism," Journal of Politics, 33 (1971), 257_292.

2. Emile Dur kheim, The Rules of the Sociological Method (New York: Free Press, 1964).

3. Manfred S tanley, "Nature, Culture, and Scarcity: Foreword to a Theoretical Synthesis," American Sociological Review, 33 (1968), 855_69.

4. J.S. M ill, A System of Logic (London: Longmans, Green, 1872; 1941 reprint).

5. See, e.g., Peter J. W ilson, Man, the Promising Primate (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1980).

6. Rene Des cartes, Meditations on First Philosophy [1641]; The Philosophical Works of Descartes, tr. by E.S. Haldane and G. R.T. Ross (New York: Dover Publications, 1955).

7. Neil J. Sm elser, "Social Structure," in Handbook of Sociology, Neil J. Sme lser, ed. (Newberry Park: Sage Publications, 1988), p. 109.

8. Dennis H. Wron g, "The Oversocialized Conception of Man," American Sociological Review, 26 (1961), 183-93.

9. Max We ber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization (New York: Free Press, 1964).

10. George Homa ns, "Bring the Men Back In," American Sociological Review, 29 (1964).

11. Anton Zijde rveld, The Abstract Society. A Cultural Analysis of Our Time (New York: Doubleday, 1971).

12. Peter L. Be rger and Thomas Luc kmann, The Social Construction of Reality (New York: Doubleday, 1966).

13. See e.g., William H. W hyte, Jr., The Organization Man (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1956); John See ley, et al., Crestwood Heights (New York: Harper & Row, 1956).

14. Bennett M. Be rger, Working Class Su burb (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1960); Herbert Ga ns, The Levit-towners. How People Live and Politic in Suburbia (New York: Pantheon Books, 1967).

15. Bertram Br own, Mental Health and Social Change (Washington, D.C.: HEW, 1968).

16. Robert N. Be llah, et al., Habits of the Heart: In dividualism and Comm itment in American Life (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985).

17. Philip Rief f, The Triumph of the Thera peutic. Uses of Fa ith After Fre ud (New York: Harper and Row, 1966).

20. Henry S. M aine, Ancient Law (New York: Dorset Press Edition, 1986.

21. Albert Out ler, "The Beginnings of Personhood: Theological Considerations," Perkins Journal (1973).