Abstract

Throughout the twentieth century, social anthropology has given the impression of being a science that is eternally in the throes of birth, all the while wondering whether it has the right to exist. As it has taken root, developed, and subdivided, it has become increasingly doubt-ridden. Today this self-doubt seems to have reached critical proportions: it is difficult to see how this discipline can continue to emphasize its schizophrenia without completely falling apart. Researchers who wish to sustain a belief in the potential scientific vocation of anthropology feel obliged to seek assistance from the outside; for this help they look to the thermodynamics of heat, the selfish gene, or the newly-formed coalition of “cognitive sciences” (which combines the traditionally attractive capabilities of formal logic, psychophysiology, neurology, and so forth). Such researchers prefer second-hand knowledge to ephemeral knowledge. As for anthropologists who seek to preserve the professional autonomy of their practice at any cost, most of them believe that the only way to do that is to abdicate: to hell with the mirage of objectivity, down with laws, and long live the “text”!