In his presidential address to the American Statistical Association in 1931, William Fielding Ogburn, an American sociologist important particularly in the 1920s, 1930s, and 1940s, took as his theme the difference between statistics and art. His argument, articulated here and in a wide range of writings throughout his career, was that “statistics has been developed to give an exact picture of reality, while the picture that the artist draws is a distortion of reality” (Ogburn 1932: 1). He then went on to express his belief that emotion leads to distortion in our observations. “It is this distorting influence of emotion and wishes,” he said, “that is more responsible for bad thinking than any lack of logic” (ibid.: 4). But statistics, he believed, could ameliorate the distorting effects of emotion on our empirical observations. There was a problem, however, because “the artist in us wants understanding rather than statistics. But understanding is hardly knowledge. . . . The tests of knowledge are reliability and accuracy, not understanding” (ibid.: 5).

Process is a ubiquitous word in social science history. It appears dozens of times in such fundamental texts as Wallace 1969, Hershberg 1969, and Wolf 1982. Social science historians generally use it, as Berkhofer (1969: 169-87, 243-44) observes, to characterize the causes of change and persistence in human communities as organic or mechanical phenomena that are intelligible, general, systematic, repetitive, orderly, and similar in sequence. The concept of process is pivotal to our understanding of the daily flux of human interaction, the workings of institutions, the character of collective action, and the course of social evolution (Turner 1977; Wallace 1970: 165-206).

Students of the welfare state have long speculated about the sequence in which welfare programs were adopted. Worker’s compensation, for example, has generally been adopted early by the various countries, while family allowances have come later. The order of these programs is important both for its inherent interest and for its bearing on theories of the welfare state.

Like many modern historians’ concepts, the notion of political culture comes to us from the social sciences, especially anthropology and political science. One assumes that political culture is a term familiar to most readers. The term metropolitan-military complex may require some explanation. I coined the phrase some years ago when undertaking a study of San Francisco politics. At the time, the inquiry was fairly conventional. Yet as I worked through the struggles over municipal services, labor and management problems, political structure, mass transit, minorities, parties, reformers, bosses, and so forth, the role of the military loomed ever larger. The longer the military was investigated, the more important that role appeared to be. Eventually, I changed the focus of my study from politics, conventionally defined, to the relationship between cities and the military. President Dwight D. Eisenhower used the term military-industrial complex in his 1961 farewell address to describe an alliance among technicians, congressmen, bureaucrats, military men, and businessmen. He did not define his words rigorously, but he left the definite impression that the military-industrial complex (MIC) was national in scope and something close to a conspiracy on behalf of greater defense spending. The president also implied that the MIC had only recently appeared. Subsequent commentators on the subject have largely followed this approach, stressing the importance of conspiracy, militarism, Washington bureaucrats, big business, and big congressmen. They have also accepted the World War II or cold war origins of the alliance as well as its national scope.

Thanks to recent innovations in theories and methods of political history, an enormous task lies before those wishing to approach the social-scientific goal recently desribed as “total political history.” Research and theorizing on the subjects of political culture, the autonomy of the state, language and discourse, the public sphere, and the importance of gender to political life promise to displace a long-standing interest among political historians in locating the social groups that presumably composed the “base” of historical regime and policy formation. The understanding of past politics as the epiphenomenal superstructure to an ontologically primary base of past society has been radically revised by scholarship presenting evidence of the relative autonomy of the state and of cultural structures within which both society and politics operate (Kousser 1982,1990; Skocpol 1985; McDonald 1986; Tropea 1989; Hunt 1986; Reddy 1987; Palmer 1990).