On the Wine Trail Asking What's a Social Construction?

The hills of Santa Ynez rolled in steep, gold-dusted waves around the two middle-aged men, one with a well kept beard, the other with a well kept abdomen. The hills were interrupted here and there by some still-green grass—early June’s stubborn resistance to the dry season. Rows of vines stitched the slopes, casting shadows like a musical staff in the early afternoon sun. The air carried that rare and giddy California magic: ocean-cooled, oak shaded, and utterly unstressed.

The Patio at Demetria Winery. Source: TripAdvisor

Tim and Jeff had just arrived at the first winery on their day-long tasting tour. They sat at a wood table in the courtyard with a view over the slopes. It was like the curtain being drawn back on an opera scene. The waiter poured them the second taste, a Grenache, over the final drops of the sparkling Rosé in their glasses. Tim's glass caught the light; he paused to admire it before swirling.

JEFF: So what have you been up to? We didn’t really catch up last night at the restaurant because of the others. It was more about wine and food.

TIM: [smiling] Which wasn’t the worst thing. But yeah—still podcasting. Always chasing the next guest who might say something that matters.

JEFF: And how’s Idaho treating you?

TIM: Quiet. Which is what I wanted. I told you I needed to get away, read more philosophy.

JEFF: Still taking those hikes up in the Tetons, kicking rocks like Nietzsche?

TIM: [laughs] Nietzsche is fun, but honestly? Style over substance. Ego over truth.

JEFF: And now all the right-wing podcasters love him. It’s a new age of nihilism!

TIM: That’s where people get him wrong, though. Nietzsche was warning us. Once God was dead, we’d need a new morality, or we’d fall apart. He was trying to stop nihilism. But he never got there. He was working on the book of morals to end all morals when he went mad. Too big a task?

JEFF: Ha!

TIM: Republicans are just catching up with Europe. Say what you want about Trump, maybe their acceptance of his amorality is a kind of release valve. Letting the old religious institutions go without too much blood.

JEFF: Unless you read Ross Douthat—then we’re on the cusp of a great religious reawakening.

TIM: [chuckles] Yes. Even though Ross Douthat writes that.

[They sip their Grenache. It’s friendly but with good structure, and carried the salinity of the air. The moment is quiet, peaceful.]

JEFF: That’s good wine.

TIM: So what about you?

JEFF: No, no. I want to hear more about this philosophical journey-thingy you’re on. You drop ideas here and there on the phone that I can’t stop thinking about.

TIM: Really. You’re serious?

JEFF: Dead.

TIM: [smiling] You’re pulling my leg, Jeff. Um, lately I’ve been reading Ian Hacking’s The Social Construction of What? Fascinating stuff. Makes you realize the phrase gets used for everything—gender, quarks, serial killers.

JEFF: True. I remember in college, my roommate had a jar to put a quarter every time we said something was a social construct.

TIM: Oh that’s great. So yeah, not all constructions are the same. Some mean "this didn’t have to be this way," some mean "this was built on power dynamics," and some are just about how we frame what’s already there.

JEFF: And you’re diving into all that?

TIM: I’m trying. So what are social constructions and why do they matter, you’re asking? Think of the big issues in the culture wars today—gay marriage, gender identity, abortion. By the way, I hate this term culture war. Why does it have to be a war? I blame Bill O’Reilly because he wrote that book Culturual Warrior and all the books about killing. Killing Lincon, Killing Kennedy, Killing Jesus.

JEFF: Killing a good time.

TIM: So yeah, these issues all orbit this question: what parts of our lives are socially constructed, and does that mean they’re not real?

JEFF: Right. That is the question. Is most of it just hype?

TIM: Well, I think they are real. But maybe not in the way people mean when they say something is real because it’s biological or natural. But . . BUT . . just think about it for a moment. If we could come to some agreement about how to view these topics across the political spectrum, we could be more at peace. Right? If there was a good way for all of us to get on the same page?

JEFF: Haha. That’s a big ask. You think philosophy can bring us together?

TIM: I do. But how do we get there—to some underlying explanation that we can agree on? I have a friend, Bernardo, who gave a talk on this at Berkeley last month. He’s a realist. So his solution to the problem is to deny social constructions altogether. That’s one way to skin the cat. Instead, he talks about social kinds—think of marriage or money. He talks of real marriage and pseudo marriage, real money and pseudo money.

JEFF: Crypto is the pseudo money, right?

TIM: Ha. Interesting question.

JEFF: Reminds me of a Bill Maher joke. A couple years ago when crypto was crashing through the floor, Maher said that a bunch of the crypto investors were on top of virtual high rises jumping off.

[Big laugh from both.]

TIM: That’s great. Perhaps crypto is becoming more real. A couple weeks ago the crypto exchange Coinbase formally joined the S&P500.

JEFF: No shit?

TIM: Bernardo argues that anything which functions like money is real even if it’s not state sanctioned. Same with marriage.

JEFF: Oh, I do have a pseudo marriage.

[They laugh and spill some wine this time.]

TIM: What do you mean?

JEFF: Just kidding. Go on.

TIM: But I’m interested in your ideas.

JEFF: I need a few more glasses of wine.

TIM: Well ok, let’s let Bernardo continue to entertain us. He argues that it’s not the wedding that marries a couple. Think of civil marriages or unions. He says they are real, but they’re real because of enduring individual intentions. Not collective belief. Not declarations. Not even speech acts.

JEFF: Wait, so it’s not enough to say “I do”?

TIM: According to Bernardo, no. The speech act expresses the intention, but it doesn’t create the reality. The commitment of love has to be real.

JEFF: I told you I had a pseudo marriage!

[Laughter. Tim didn’t pursue it this time.]

JEFF: But wait. Let’s say I get married by the law, and don’t love my wife, then I’m not married?

TIM: That’s the idea. The external structure—the institution—has to be grounded in the individual’s real intentions. They can change, but while they last, they constitute the social kind.

JEFF: I don’t know. Then most marriages I’m afraid aren’t marriages. You don’t sound convinced with your friend’s theory. I don’t think I am. But I do get his point somewhat. There’s those folks who get married for immigration purposes. Are those real marriage? It’s the “I do” without the real thing.

TIM: I think he’s right about a lot. Shakespeare wrote, “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments.” Was he the first realist in the way Bernardo is about marriage? [Slapping Jeff’s shoulder.] But come on! Before Shakespeare, marriage was also very much about money and property. It was a deal. Think of arranged marriages. I differ from Bernardo. I do believe there are social constructions. And that they are more open-ended than he wants to admit. Social constructions—think gender— can be a sandbox where we play as individuals or society while we’re figuring things out. Some say gender is tied to biological sex. I think Bernardo would say it is. This is the real social kind. The Trump administration has even made an executive order that it is. You know that when it takes an executive order it’s certainly not figure out yet!

JEFF: Have you heard about the latest executive order?

TIM: What? That Elon has to give his golden key back?

[Jeff laughed but before he could finish his joke, the server was out with the Cabernet.]

JEFF: This is so nice Tim. Thanks for coming over.

TIM: Hey, yeah. Great to see you. So what’s the latest executive order?

JEFF: That there will be no more social constructions allowed at Harvard. And the number in other places is to be cut by half! It’s called EO: Construction Reduction.

TIM: EO: Construction Reduction. Love it. Sounds like a French chef. The next Democratic president will have Build Back Better Constructions and declare Harvard a real social kind.

JEFF: And give them a golden key.

TIM: [relaxing and, alas, almost losing his train of thought] But going back to gender, we know that biological sex is evolving as we learn more about biology. I hear this on the podcast.

JEFF: Yes, but are you listening to the Joe Rogan podcast? That’s where you get all the real science from the underworld.

TIM: [smiling] That a person thinks they are living in a body that is the wrong gender or sex makes absolute sense to me. And who are we to say they’re not?

JEFF: Things are getting worse on that issue politically, not better.

TIM: Yes, and they got worse on the gay marriage issue before they got better. Humans come around.

JEFF: Until they don’t.

TIM: Am I picking up some skepticism with each new wine we taste? Here’s the thing, would people come around sooner and stay around if we had a better way of talking about these constructions?

JEFF: So reality evolves? We need a reality tracker.

TIM: I’m sure Bernardo has a prototype. Because he says reality isn’t “clear” or “unclear,” only our grasp of it is. Maybe he’s right. I see social constructions as tools and sandboxes. We play, we test. Sometimes we build toward something enduring, sometimes we tear it down. Where we differ is that he thinks they are all fictions or falsehoods until reality is clear. But why can’t they be real on the way to being clear? I find his attitude dogmatic.

JEFF: This reminds me of law. Or ethics. Constantly evolving.

TIM: Yes. Or science.

JEFF: Oh yes! Did you see that article in The Atlantic, right? Adam Riess? Won the Nobel for proving the universe is expanding faster and faster. Now he’s saying the data doesn’t match up. He’s questioning the whole model. Even science is unstable.

TIM: Or evolving. Just like our social concepts. I did see it, yes.

JEFF: So what’s the difference between a social kind that Bernardo likes to refer to and a social construction? And does he have a golden key?

TIM: Nice.

JEFF: Sorry.

TIM: A construction is something we build—language, institutions, categories. A kind is something we think the world has—some real division. Bernardo wants kinds to track something real. I’m willing to let the construction lead us to the kind, even if the kind isn’t fully clear yet.

JEFF: Like with gender?

TIM: Yes. Some say gender is a performance. Judith Butler says it’s enacted, reiterated. But that doesn’t make it unreal. It might just mean we don’t yet have a final picture of what it is. Hacking would call that an interactive kind—the category changes as people react to it. And people change as they interact with the category.

JEFF: Does that make it less valid?

TIM: Not to me. But some would say unless it’s tied to something external, it’s fiction.

JEFF: And what do you say?

TIM: Fiction isn’t the opposite of truth. Sometimes it points us toward it. I like the philosopher John Searle on this. He asks whether institutions like marriage or money are just regulative—rules we make to govern existing behaviors—or whether they’re constitutive—rules that make the behavior possible at all. His example is chess. You have the rules yes, and in fact, the rules create the game itself. Does that make chess unreal? No. What external is chess tied to: mideval knights and castles? Of course not. The reality of chess is our own social willing into being.

JEFF: (Pausing a moment) So this wine—[he lifts his fourth glass]—a social construction?

TIM: Only if you believe in it hard enough. And intend to drink it.

JEFF: I do. I believe in it very hard.

[They laugh. The sun slants lower over the vines. For a moment, they let the question of what is real settle into the gentle silence of mid afternoon.]

TIM: So that’s me figured out. What about you? I feel like I’ve been preaching.

JEFF: Well you’re a preacher’s kid. It’s what we like about you. Me? I’m hell bent on getting one of those golden keys. Should we go to the next winery? I don’t have a friend Bernardo, but I think I know his sister.