1

The Power of Soft Theory: Theorising the Context of Discovery in Historical International Relations

Adam Humphreys, University of Reading

Draft paper prepared for EISA conference, Sicily, Sep 2015. Please do not cite without permission.

Updated 18/09/15

In a recent critique of disciplinary divides in International Relations (IR), Lake (2011) distinguished

strongly between theoretical and epistemological divisions. Whereas he offered clear prescriptions

for overcoming what he regards as pathological competition among theoretical sects, he identified a

more ‘enduring divide’ between ‘nomological and narrative forms of explanation’ (Lake 2011: 474).

This is a familiar refrain. While grand theoretical debates in IR are in retreat (see Sil & Katzenstein

2010; Dunne et al 2013), the idea of a categorical division between theory and history is notably

recalcitrant.1 This idea is, however, problematic, for it leaves little space for inquiry which is both

theoretical and historical: theoretical in the sense that it draws on well integrated sets of ideas that

are not peculiar to individual empirical episodes, but also historical in the sense that it nonetheless

respects evidence of the particularity of those episodes Given the methodological constraints which

flow from our interest in ‘small numbers of incomparable complex events’ (Wohlforth 1999: 41), we

urgently need to make sense of how theory can inform history without determining it.2

The principal reason that the idea of a categorical distinction between history and theory in IR is so

recalcitrant is the same reason that IR’s perennial history-theory debates have tended to devolve

into mutual recrimination: theorists tend to view history through the lens of a strong conception of

theory.3 If we conceive of theory as a deductively-linked system of propositions, geared to produce

candidate causal generalizations (and predictions) which are capable of being tested, then it is hard

1 Theory and history are my terms, not Lake’s. The distinction between them is recalcitrant not just in the face of a decline in grand theoretical debates but also in the face of attempts by historical sociologists to bridge (grand) theory and history and the recent move away from diplomatic and international history and towards a more global history. Notable exceptions include Suganami (2008) and Lawson (2012). 2 I speak here of ‘history’ as a mode of inquiry, employed in IR, not of ‘History’ as an institutionalized discipline with its own journals, conferences, university departments, professional associations and the like. 3 Selected examples of IR’s history-theory debates from across the years include Knorr & Rosenau (1969); the symposium in International Security 22(1), 1997; Elman & Elman (2001a); Goddard et al (2015). These debates are replicated in Sociology (see Goldthorpe 1991; Kiser & Hechter 1991). Despite explicit attempts to build bridges between theory and history in IR (see Elman & Elman 2001a), in practice the boundaries have trumped the bridges (Clark 2002: 274; see also Goddard et al 2015). The theorists’ complaint, typically, is that historians are insufficiently explicit about how they draw on theory (see Elman & Elman 1997: 13; Levy 1997: 31). The historians’ complaint, typically, is that theorists treat history as a data mine against which theories can be tested, thereby not only saddling history ‘with more certainty than it can bear’ (Smith 1999: 1) but also committing various forms of selection bias (see Lustick 1996; Smith 1999: 2-3; Puchala 2003: 36).

2

to see how it could contribute to historical inquiry.4 For rather than orienting the historian within

the complexity and uncertainty of a process of inquiry, this kind of theory prescribes what the

historian would have to find for the theory to be sound. Expressed in Kaplan’s terms (1964: 13):

while this strong conception of theory may be adequate to the ‘context of justification’, it is not

adequate to the ‘context of discovery’. Whereas in the context of justification the aim is to stipulate

the standards an explanation is required to meet, the context of discovery is where explanations are

developed. In the context of justification, it is obvious how a strong theory could be tested against

an independent historical record (if such a thing exists) and why such a goal might be desirable. But

if we can predict what the evidence will show, then there is no need for a process of exploration,

interpretation and narration.

A perennial complaint from international historians is that IR theorists use history ‘to illustrate

theory’, rather than developing theories which can ‘be used to deepen our understanding of history’

(Ingram 1997: 62). One way in which theorists have ducked this challenge is to distinguish among

the aims of theorists and historians while insisting that they employ the same kind of theory. For

example, Levy (1997: 22) argues that ‘[h]istorians describe, explain, and interpret individual events

or a temporally bounded series of events, whereas political scientists generalize about the

relationships between variables’, but that both tasks involve theory. It is then but a short step to the

complaint that historians are not sufficiently explicit about the assumptions and causal laws which,

theorists suppose, must drive their interpretations (Levy 1997: 31). What such arguments fail to

consider is that when international historians discuss the role of theory in history they are, for the

most part, discussing how theory contributes to the process of inquiry. Inevitably, therefore, they

have in mind a rather softer conception of theory. My aim in this paper is to consider what kind of

theory this might be and to examine the implications for our understanding of the relationship

between history and theory in IR. In doing so, I draw principally on the work of historians. My aim is

not to establish standards for historical explanation (see Mahoney, Kimball, and Koivu 2009), but

rather to understand how such explanations may be constructed.5

There is good reason to think that some kind of theory must play a role in historical inquiry. It

involves, among other things, discovering evidence, interpreting it, and arranging the results in a

4 This is, nonetheless, the conception of theory which predominates in IR’s history-theory debates (see Schroeder 1997: 66; Elman & Elman 2001b: 13-14). This is also the conception of theory which narrativist historians and philosophers of history reject (see Veyne 1984: 90; Mink 1987). 5 Mahoney, Kimball and Koivu’s (2009) argument speaks to the context of justification, rather than the context of discovery.

3

comprehensible narrative. This requires historians to decide which questions to ask, to focus on

some possibilities rather than others, to employ a conceptual scheme, and to interpret evidence in

light of certain understandings of how the world (usually) works. These activities are all theoretical

at least in the sense that they draw on relatively well integrated sets of ideas that are not peculiar to

individual historical episodes. Moreover, although this is rarely acknowledged in IR, the discipline of

History is teeming with ideas about the nature of theory and the contribution it makes to historical

inquiry.6 Moreover, there is a clearly discernible middle ground in which historians ‘accept that they

mediate past reality through … shared categories of analysis and conceptualisation’ but strongly

reject ‘fitting events into a preconceived pattern’ (Munslow 2006: 25). This middle ground is

particularly favoured by international historians, as expressed, for example, in Trachtenberg’s (2006:

30, 32) claim that the historian ‘has to make … [the facts] “speak” by drawing on a kind of theory’

but that this theory ‘is not a substitute for empirical analysis. It is an engine of analysis’.

What is missing here is an account, in terms recognizable to social scientists, of precisely how this

kind of soft theory functions as an engine of analysis. I propose that we can make sense of what

these middle ground international historians say about how theory contributes to historical inquiry

by construing theory as a form of conceptualization to which ideal-typical theoretical expectations

are integrally linked. Soft theory provides a conceptual vocabulary which constructs evidence as

being evidence of a certain kind of thing, while the associated expectations provide a picture of how

things typically ‘hang together’ (Ruggie 1998: 855), a picture that orients inquiry by highlighting

particular features of empirical episodes as being more or less puzzling and hence more or less in

need of explanation. However, there is no expectation that these expectations are borne out in

practice: the theory orients inquiry without determining what it will find. Indeed, the process of

historical explanation, viewed from this perspective, involves homing in on the conceptualization

which best assimilates the evidence to our conventional understandings of how the world ordinarily

works. Soft theory therefore provides the a necessary baseline from which historical inquiry can

proceed, rather than being an alternative to historical inquiry.

I contend that this account of the nature of theory and how it contributes to historical inquiry makes

better sense of what many international historians say or imply about the role of theory in history

than is available when we approach the issues through the lens of strong theory. It also makes sense

of the practice of many international historians and IR theorists who engage with history. Indeed, I

6 Following convention, I use History (capitalised) to refer to the institutionalised discipline and history to refer to the mode of inquiry.

4

show that a range of theorists and historians who have sought to explain the relative peacefulness of

the nineteenth-century Concert system are all plausibly understood as drawing on soft theory in the

manner I lay out.

However, my aim is not merely to articulate how theory can contribute to the process of discovery in

history, but also to raise broader questions about the relationship between history and theory in IR.

An important corollary of my argument is that the histories which international historians (and IR

theorists) develop do not constitute an independent historical record against which strong theories

might reliably be tested. This is what Smith (1999: 7) terms ‘the historical problem’ in IR, viz. that

‘there are histories, not history’. To point this out is not to advance an argument against the pursuit

of strong theory in IR, but rather to clarify the contingent nature of any apparent consensus against

which such a theory might be tested. My argument also carries implications for how we think about

the relationship between both history and theory on the one hand and policy-making on the other.

For if histories themselves are theoretically laden, if the theories historians employ in constructing

their histories function in ideal-type fashion, and if the credibility of strong theories as a predictive

tool rests on their having been tested against which histories which are themselves products of

ideal-type theoretical expectations, then seeking to learn lessons from either history or theory really

consists in transferring ideal-type theoretical expectations from one domain to another.

In developing this argument I proceed as follows. In the first section I make the case that although

strong theory is inadequate to historical inquiry, history must, nonetheless, be theoretical, at least in

a certain sense. In the second section I turn to the discipline of History, including the philosophy of

history, to explore alternative ideas about how theory contributes to historical inquiry, identifying a

middle ground position around which many international historians appear to cluster. In the third

section I reconstruct the logic of this middle ground position in ideal-type terms. In the fourth

section I make the case that both historians and theorists of the nineteenth-century Concert system

are plausibly understood as drawing on this kind of theory. I then return, in the conclusion, to the

implications for the relationship between theory, history, and policy-making.

Theory and the Possibility of Historical Inquiry

The case for history being theoretical, but not in the strong sense typically implied by IR theorists in

IR’s history-theory debates, is most clearly articulated in philosophy of science by Weber (2004) and

in philosophy of history by Carr (2001). Weber (2004: 374) argued that historical inquiry starts with

5

the selection of an object of inquiry and that this necessarily involves theory. As he put it: the ‘sheer

infinity’ of social life makes ‘exhaustive description’ of even of the smallest aspect of it impossible.

‘All cognitive knowledge of infinite reality’ rests ‘upon the implicit presupposition that at any one

time only a finite part of this reality … [is] "worth knowing"'. Historical knowledge is hence by

definition ‘knowledge from a specific point of view’ (Weber 2004: 381), that is, a point of view which

identifies some (and only some) aspects of social life as worth knowing. The point is not just that

historians interpret events, but that the spatial and temporal boundaries of events are just as much

creations of the historian as they are natural phenomena (see Isacoff 2009: 72): whereas social life is

continuous both spatially and temporally, history singles out particular elements, under particular

descriptions, as deserving special attention.

To some, this may seem so obvious as to hardly require stating, but it opens the door to theory in

significant ways.7 For as Carr (2001: 97) points out: ‘no sane historian pretends to do anything so

fantastic as to embrace “the whole of experience”; he cannot embrace more than a minute fraction

of the facts even of his chosen sector or aspect of history’. It follows from this that history cannot

consist in the ‘compilation of a maximum number of irrefutable and objective facts’ (Carr 2001: 9).

‘When we seek to know the facts, the questions which we ask, and therefore the answers which we

obtain, are prompted by our system of values’ (Carr 2001: 125).8 Carr (2001: 3) therefore rejected

the ‘empiricist’, or ‘common-sense’ view of history as consisting of ‘a corpus of ascertained facts …

available to the historians in documents … like fish on the fishmonger’s slab’.9 He argued (2001: 18)

that the historian’s facts

are really not at all like fish on the fishmonger’s slab. They are like fish swimming about in a

vast and sometimes inaccessible ocean; and what the historian catches will depend, partly

on chance, but mainly on what part of the ocean he chooses to fish in and what tackle he

chooses to use – these two factors being, of course, determined by the kind of fish he wants

to catch. By and large, the historian will get the kind of facts he wants. History means

interpretation.

Weber (2004: 374) famously argued that ‘there is no “objective” analysis of “social phenomena”

independent of special and “one-sided” perspectives, on the basis of which such phenomena can be

7 Moreover, it is accepted even by traditional historians (see, for example, Hexter 1971: 37-8). 8 This led Carr to articulate a proto-theory of historical revisionism: that when, shaped by their own social and historical contexts, historians’ values change, so do the questions they ask, even about the same historical episodes (Carr 2001: 118; see also Martin 1982). 9 The empiricist position he criticizes is sometimes characterized as realist or reconstructionist (see Munslow 2006), these terms indicating that the historian seeks to reconstruct how things (really) were in the past.

6

… selected as an object of research, analysed and systematically represented’. In other words, the

same perspective which is involved in the selection and demarcation of a historical episode as an

object of inquiry also contributes to its conceptual representation. This thought is also taken up by

Carr (2001: 5) in his famous insistence that ‘a fact is like a sack – it won’t stand up till you’ve put

something in it’. Historians have to actively decipher evidence (Carr 2001: 10), such that our ‘picture

of the facts’ is unavoidably moulded by ‘the categories through which we approach’ them and hence

also ‘by our values’ (Carr 2001: 125). Carr therefore depicts the historian as playing an active role in

the production of histories: ‘when we take up a work of history’, he argued (2001: 16-17), ‘our first

concern should be not with the facts it contained but with the historian who wrote it’. History is not

an unmediated record of the past, but rather emerges out of ‘a process of interaction between the

historian and his facts, an unending dialogue between the present and the past’ (Carr 2001: 24).

Another way in which the historian plays an active role, according to Carr, is in arranging (already

theoretically laden) evidence in a historical interpretation. Even his description of the traditional,

empiricist approach to history gives a sense of this: Carr (2001: 3) describes empiricists as believing

that the historian ‘collects’ the facts then ‘takes them home and cooks and serves them in whatever

style appeals to him’. Carr’s own view (2001: 5) is that ‘[t]he facts speak only when the historian

calls on them’: the historian ‘decides to which facts to give the floor, and in what order or context’.

Carr was, of course, unfamiliar with what was to become the narrative turn in History (see Munslow

2006), though his call for ‘the historian to examine himself and his own position in history’ (Carr

2001: 134) is very much in line with the kind of reflexivity that is increasingly called for in History

today, if little practised in international history (see Finney 2001).

It is crucial to Carr’s argument (as it is to Weber’s) that while historical inquiry is unavoidably value-

laden, for the reasons outlined above, it nonetheless involves the search for causes (see Carr 2001:

81, 89) and that hypotheses and generalizations contribute to that pursuit (see Carr 2001: 57-8).

Equally importantly, Carr insists that while historical inquiry is unavoidably theoretical, it remains an

empirical discipline in the sense that the historian remains constrained by the facts. Thus he argues

that reliance on generalization does not permit the historian ‘to construct some vast scheme of

history into which specific events must be fitted’ and he observes, pointedly, that ‘the historian who

accepts answers in advance … goes to work with his eyes blindfolded, and renounces his vocation’

(Carr 2001: 59, 77). He therefore rules out the possibility that history is theoretical in the sense that

it (properly) consists in the direct application of the kind of strong theory typically prized in IR. Yet

he also resists relativism (see Carr 2001: 116), refusing to accept that ‘one interpretation is as good

7

as another’ (Carr 2001: 21). The historian has a duty ‘to respect his facts’, including both checking

that they are accurate and bringing all knowable facts into the picture, but this does not ‘eliminate

interpretation, which is the life-blood of history’ (Carr 2001: 22; see also Carr 2001: 24).

Carr’s argument was directed against an empiricist understanding of history and in favour of the idea

that theory must be theoretical. But his argument also implies that history cannot be theoretical in

the strong sense invoked in IR’s history-theory debates.10 Levy (1997: 32) is right that the question

of whether history involves theory is not at stake in these debates. Ingram (1997: 53, 55-6),

Schroeder (1997: 66-7) and Gaddis (1997: 83) all accept that history involves theory. Schroeder

(1997: 66) even states, strikingly, that most narrative histories, ‘including most work in international

history, are clearly nomothetic in the sense that they develop hypotheses, assign particular causes

for events and developments, and establish general patterns’. However, Schroeder (1997: 65-6) also

explicitly rejects Levy’s (1997: 22) claim that historians and theorists differ only insofar as the former

focus on the particular and the latter on the general (see also Ingram 1997: 53; Gaddis 1997: 83).11

Moreover, Schroeder’s contention that history is nomothetic cannot be taken at face value given his

rejection of theoretical approaches which seek to uncover ‘lawlike, structural correlations’ as having

‘no real connection [to history] at all’ (Schroeder 1997: 73).12 What is at stake in these debates is not

whether history involves theory, but how theory contributes (see Smith 1999: 24).

Ingram (1997: 53) observes that ‘the historian standing in the past is content to look around him and

is supposed not to know ahead of time what may turn up next’. The aim of strong theory is precisely

to relieve such uncertainty. Armed with a strong theory, the historian will know what must happen

next if the theory is sound.13 In other words, the historian need not even consult the evidence

except to check that her theory is indeed sound (see Smith 1999: 3). As Ingram (1997: 56) objects,

this kind of theory functions as ‘an alternative to the evidence rather than a way of making more of

it’. He observes, moreover (Ingram 1997: 55, 53), that because theorists have already drawn the

pattern of what they expect to find ‘before the inquiry begins’ and then merely colour it in, they

10 This articulation of a middle ground position explains the strong reactions Carr received. As Evans (2001: xxxix) notes, the depiction of Carr by some deconstructionists as ‘an unregenerate empiricist is as distorted’ as the depiction of him by some traditionalists ‘as an out-and-out relativist’. 11 They, like many historians, reject the idea that they only explain the particular. To the extent that any historians accept this, Veyne’s (1984: 63) qualification is important: history ‘is interested in the specificity of individual events rather than in their singularity’. 12 Trachtenberg (2006: 28) also appears to embrace strong theory before backtracking, arguing that 'historical

explanation … should to the extent possible have a kind of deductive structure', but then qualifying this by insisting that the historian 'has to take care not to push the effort too far'. 13 It is sound if its argument is valid (its conclusions are entailed by its assumptions) and its assumptions are true.

8

sometimes end up recounting visions of the past which are unrecognizable to historians (see also

Osiander 2007). However, like other international historians, Ingram (1997: 55) explicitly recognizes

that the historian’s navigation of the process of historical inquiry ‘implies – and demands – a theory’.

What he denies is that theorizing first and then illustrating the theory (Ingram 1997: 58) is plausible

as a model of historical inquiry. In order to understand in what sense historical inquiry is theoretical,

we require a different conception of theory.

We might, of course, accept that strong theory can tell us little about the process of historical inquiry

but insist that it provides an appropriate standard for historical explanation. That standard, which is

widely accepted among IR theorists, is that an explanation must show that an outcome was to be

expected in the circumstances and also indicate why it was to be expected.14 In other words, strong

theorists might be understood as demanding that a sound historical explanation must be susceptible

to reformulation as a set of causal generalizations linking conditions of a certain type to outcomes of

a certain type, a set of causal generalizations which could, in principle, be tested in other historical

scenarios.15 This would retain the connection that IR theorists such as Levy seek to draw between

theoretical and historical explanations. But when we turn to the process of discovery we would still

face the question of what kind of theory might actively contribute to historical inquiry.

Furthermore, even when understood as articulating a standard for historical explanation, there is a

degree of misfit between strong theory and history. For advocates of this standard seem to want to

have things both ways. They demand that historical explanations must be theoretical, in the sense

that they must be susceptible to generalization as strong theories subject to systematic testing.16

Yet they also demand that history can be regarded as a bank of presumably theory-free data against

which such (proto-)theories might be tested. These two demands are hard to reconcile with one

another and are individually hard to reconcile with most historians’ understandings of history as a

realm of interpretations, not data. For example, Schroeder (1997: 68-9) argues that what a historian

does in the process of historical inquiry is to seek to develop ‘a new, better synoptic judgement’,

that is, a ‘broad interpretation of a [historical] development based on examining it from different

angles to determine how it came to be, what it means, and what understanding of it best integrates

the available evidence’. He adds that although historical controversies may seem to involve disputes

14 Suganami (2008) rejects this understanding of explanation entirely. 15 This is precisely the demand which Mink (1987) rejects when he insists that historians conclusions are not detachable, but integral. 16 As Suganami (2008: 331) points out, this has the odd implication that historical explanations which meet the required standard cannot be improved.

9

about the facts, they are in fact conflicts ‘between differing synoptic judgements’ (see also Mink

1987).

Schroeder (1997: 68-9) insists that these synoptic judgements can and should involve theory, but he

is at pains to stress how different the process of historical inquiry is from the formulating and testing

of hypotheses. The challenge this poses is that of understanding how the histories against which

strong theories might be tested are formulated. To do this, we need to think differently about what

kind of theory might contribute to historical inquiry and in what way. For this purpose, it is helpful

to turn to the discipline of History. For despite the growth of critical theory in IR, there has been

little interest in developing alternative accounts of how theory contributes to explanation.17 In

History, by contrast, there is an extensive debate about the extent to which, and the way in which,

historical inquiry is (or must be) informed by theory.

Conceptions of Theory in History

Carr is now a somewhat unfashionable figure in History: his sympathy for determinism in history and

his establishment sensitivities, especially his focus on political elites, were out of kilter with the turn

towards social and cultural history in the 1960s (Evans 2001: xxxvii).18 However, his contention that

‘all historians carried some kind of personal conceptual, intellectual and political baggage with them

when they went into the archive, and his warning that the sources which they used had their own

biases too’ is, according to Evans (2001: xxxii), ‘nowadays part of the basic conceptual equipment of

the historical profession’. Indeed, Munslow (2006: 4) argues that the traditional view of history ‘as

an empirical research method based upon the belief in some reasonably accurate correspondence

between the past … and its narrative representation is no longer … tenable’ (see also Novick 1988).

There is a far wider range of views in History today about the nature of theory and the role that it

plays than in Carr’s time, but the debate is very much focused on the context of discovery.19 The

question is to what extent historical inquiry, from the discovery and interpretation of evidence

through to the plotting of narratives, is necessarily informed by theory and what implications that

17 Some theorists have, nonetheless, begun to point towards the need for such alternative accounts (see Sil & Katzenstein 2010; Humphreys 2011). I understand critical theory to involve a rejection of explanation as a goal of theory. 18 However, this kind of disposition may have survived more among diplomatic historians than elsewhere in History (see Haber, Kennedy & Krasner 1997: 38; Finney 2001). 19 The range of positions to be found in History may be surprising to those IR theorists used to thinking of History as a discipline in denial about the role of theory in history. But as Thorne (1983: 130) pointed out, one problem with generic debates about scientific vs. historical IR is ‘the wide range of assumptions and methods to be found among historians working in the field of international affairs, as elsewhere’.

10

carries for History as a discipline. Much of this debate is relevant to our understanding of the

relationship between history and theory in IR.

There is no consensus in History on the nature of the contribution theory makes to historical inquiry.

However, Munslow (2006) distinguishes three archetypal positions. Reconstructionism refers to the

‘“commonsense” empiricist tradition’, criticized by Carr, in which history is construed as a craft

involving ‘objective and forensic research into the sources’, such that ‘the more carefully we do it …

the more accurate we can become, and the closer we get to … knowing history as it actually

happened’ (Munslow 2006: 20, 22).20 Reconstructionists have no choice but to make the proto-

theoretical moves described by Weber: selecting and demarcating events as objects of explanation

and employing a conceptual vocabulary. They also recognize that historians, for example, ‘formulate

rough hypotheses’ and make judgements about what ‘historical tempo’ narratives should employ

(Hexter 1971: 24, 37-8), but they do not regard this as theory. Constructionists explicitly reject an

empiricist picture of history and both read and cite social theory. This is especially common among

social and cultural historians who are committed to telling the stories of marginalised groups (see

Munslow 2006: 20, 26). Indeed, Sewell (2005: 3) observes that ‘such figures as Clifford Geertz,

Antonio Gramsci, Michel Foucault, and Pierre Bourdieu – not to mention Karl Marx, Max Weber, and

Emile Durkheim – have become something like household names in contemporary historical

discourse’. Deconstructionists share the constructionist rejection of empiricism but place less

emphasis ‘on explicit social scientific theorising’ and more on literary theory. They ‘tend to view

history and the past as a complex series of literary products that derive their chains of meaning(s) or

signification from the nature of narrative structure … as much as from other culturally provided

ideological factors’ (Munslow 2006: 21). Indeed, Munslow (2006: 27) argues that the linguistic turn

has caused ‘all historians to think self-consciously about how we use language – to be particularly

aware of the figurative character of our own narrative as the medium by which we relate the past’.

The extent to which all these positions involve theory may be somewhat obscured by the terms of

debate in History. First, many historians conceive of History, compared to the social sciences, as

being distinctively non-theoretical even though in practice they draw on theoretical ideas (Jordanova

2006: 62). Sewell (2005: 11) observes that many historians do not recognize their understanding of,

for example, temporality ‘as being a matter of theory at all, but simply as how the world works, as

the mere factuality of things’. What in IR would be regarded as theory is regarded in History ‘as a

kind of professional common sense’. Consequently, historians don’t contribute to theoretical

20 As is often the case, such labels are not always welcomed by those they label (see Marwick 2001: xii).

11

debates even when their ideas about matters such as temporality are more sophisticated than those

of social scientists (Sewell 2005: 5-6). Second, many reconstructionist historians reject the idea that

history is theoretical because they have in mind a strong conception of theory. For example,

Marwick (2001: 4) describes himself as doing ‘purely empirical’ history as distinct from ‘speculative

philosophy of history’ (see also Anderle 1964), while many historians claim to be just ‘doing history’

as distinct from applying explicit theories ‘such as Marxism, structuralism, discourse theory, or

feminism’ (Fulbrook 2002: 4). Third, the sense in which deconstructionist history is theoretical may

be obscured by the fact that it involves a focus on the distinctive qualities of narratives (see Mink

1987; White 1987), which had previously been used to differentiate history from the social sciences

(see Gallie 1963; Dray 1971).

These divergent perspectives on the role of theory in historical inquiry highlight the importance of

Smith’s observation (1999: 9) that 'different kinds of historians turn to theory for different reasons,

just as different theorists use history for a variety of ends'. However, Munslow (2006: 24) observes

that ‘most historians range themselves around the methodological point at which constructionism

branches from reconstructionism’. These historians are dubious about strong forms of

constructionism: they ask how history can ‘approximate what actually happened in the past when, in

effect, all it does is generate explanations grounded in contemporary cultural practices, and hence is

ideologically tainted’ (Munslow 2006: 21). But for those who combine a form of constructionism

with narrative empiricism, ‘constructionist model-making is not taken necessarily to involve fitting

events into a preconceived pattern’ (Munslow 2006: 25): explanatory frameworks are used to enrich

our understanding of human agency, not to deny it. Relatedly, Munslow (2006: 10) notes that the

most recent development within deconstructionism ‘has been the emergence of a “new empiricism”

that has acknowledged the postmodern critique, especially of history’s discursive construction’, but

which has nonetheless sought ‘to retain empiricism, though … in some kind of modified form, as the

bedrock of history’. In other words, there is a popular middle ground among these positions which

accepts that historians rely on explanatory frameworks, and which accepts that any representation

of the past is linguistically mediated, but which also recognizes that the historian’s interpretation is

sharply constrained by the evidence.21

21 This is, of course, roughly Carr’s position, but with two qualifications: first, he was concerned with the reconstructionist-constructionist debate rather than with deconstructionism; and second, his articulation of such a position was viewed at the time as extreme, rather than as a middle ground.

12

Perhaps the clearest articulation of this middle ground position in History today is Fulbrook’s (2002)

defence of historical theory against both reconstructionism and deconstructionism.22 The feature of

her work which locates her at the intersection of reconstructionism and constructionism is her soft

characterisation of what historical theory involves. She insists that even ‘historians who … claim to

be simply “doing history” … are working within bodies of assumptions of which they may be more or

less aware’ (Fulbrook 2002: 4).23 Yet these are not substantive social theoretic assumptions of the

kind associated with constructionism, but softer kinds of assumptions about, for example, ‘what is

already “common knowledge” … what to look for and where to look for it … [and] how to define who

are the key historical actors’ (Fulbrook 2002: 4). According to Fulbrook (2002: 10), other ‘essentially

theoretical problems’ include ‘framing questions, devising appropriate conceptual frameworks, [and]

assessing what is always theoretically netted “evidence”’ (see also Jordanova 2002: 62). In other

words, this kind of soft theory contributes to the context of discovery by marking out objects of

inquiry, providing a conceptual vocabulary, and indicating priorities for investigation. Fulbrook

(2002: 10) also observe that the ‘concepts and methodological tools’ which historians use are ‘open

to amendment and development’ in the process of inquiry. Soft theory is therefore a tool that is

flexible enough to contribute to historical inquiry without determining it, but also robust enough

that the histories it helps generate must be recognized as interpretations, not data.

I contend that most international historians’ explicit arguments about the role of theory in history

occupy this middle ground. While international historians have, for a long time, criticized purely

narrative conceptions of history (see Thorne 1983), some have now begun to embrace theory more

explicitly, none more so than Trachtenberg (2006: vii), who argues that good historical work ‘has to

have a strong conceptual core’: in order to make sense of the evidence, the historian requires ‘a

certain sense for how things work’. Trachtenberg therefore embraces the idea that historical inquiry

is theoretically informed, but also qualifies this, insisting that theory ‘does not provide any ready-

made answers. Instead, it serves to generate a series of specific questions you can only answer by

doing empirical research’. In other words, theory ‘is not a substitute for empirical analysis. It is an

engine of analysis. It helps you see which specific questions to focus on’ (Trachtenberg 2006: 32). A

similar pattern emerges among other international historians. For example, Ingram (1997: 56)

accepts that a historical narrative ‘implies a theory and tries to advance its development’, but also

insists that a theoretically-informed narrative ‘continues a discussion instead of claiming to be a

proof'.

22 Her terms are ‘empiricism’ and ‘postmodernism’ (Fulbrook 2002: 3). 23 She therefore makes common cause with constructionists against reconstructionists (see, for example, Callinicos 1995: 90).

13

This soft conception of theory also underpins what international historians say about historical facts

and the role of generalization in historical inquiry. Trachtenberg (2006: 30) follows Carr in arguing

that ‘[t]he facts never really just “speak for themselves”. The historian … has to make them “speak”

by drawing on a kind of theory’. This is widely accepted by both international historians and IR

theorists (see Elman & Elman 2001: 3), but it is important to recognize the soft conception of theory

which Trachtenberg is arguing must inform historians’ interpretation of the facts (or, more properly,

the evidence).24 Gaddis (2002: 62) argues that it is ‘quite wrong to claim that historians reject the

use of theory, for theory is ultimately generalization, and without generalization historians would

have nothing whatsoever to say. The very words we use generalize complex realities’. However, we

must, once again, bear in mind his understanding of the nature of theory: he explicitly qualifies this

statement about the role of generalization in historical inquiry by noting that whereas for social

scientists the aim is to confirm a hypothesis, historians ‘normally embed our generalizations within

our narratives … We generalize for particular purposes’ (Gaddis 2002: 62-3).

Thus whereas the issue in IR’s history-theory debates is whether history is theoretical and, if it is,

whether international historians are sufficiently explicit about it, the debate within History is subtly

different. Here, the issue is not whether history is theoretical but what role theory plays. The

position in question is a middle ground between a last-ditch defence of the idea that history is an

empirical discipline and a full-scale adoption of social theory as the motor of historical inquiry.

International historians reject both of these possibilities, while also implicitly repudiating

deconstructionism (see Finney 2001). They accept that history must embrace theory, but reject the

strong conception of theory which IR theorists suppose must underpin their explanations.

International historians are therefore not quite the traditionalists implied in the image of diplomatic

historians as refugees from a discipline overtaken by social history (see Elman & Elman 1997: 6, 16;

Haber, Kennedy & Krasner 1997). It is important to recognize this, for if we view international

historians as traditional empiricist historians, it is only a small step from here to the view that the

histories they produce may be employed as data against which strong theories may be tested. By

contrast, the conception of theory employed in the middle ground, while softer than that employed

by either constructionist historians or IR theorists, is too strong for the histories it helps to generate

to be regarded as data. Indeed, it is a key contention of the middle ground that histories are

necessarily incomplete representations of the past (Gaddis 2002: 26). As Gaddis (2001: 308) puts it,

24 Trachtenberg seems to use ‘facts’ and ‘evidence’ interchangeably (see Trachtenberg 2006: vii).

14

a history is a dramatization: ‘a representation of reality, not reality itself’. This is why understanding

the sense in which theory contributes to historical inquiry is important for IR: because it impacts on

the ways in which histories may be used in IR.

That said, international historians do not spell out the form taken by their soft conception of theory

or how precisely it shapes the process of historical inquiry. How can theory be an engine of analysis

without providing ready-made answers? What does it mean to say that generalizations are

embedded within narratives? How can theory be ‘a guide for framing questions’, but also ‘a

template for answering them’ (Smith 1999: 180), all without constraining the ability of the historian

to follow where the evidence leads? In the next section I go further than international historians

have in spelling out how soft theory can contribute to historical inquiry without determining what

the historian must find.

Making Sense of the Middle Ground: Theory as an Ideal-Type Resource

One popular alternative to strong theory is the Bourdieusian conception of theory as ‘a set of

thinking tools’ (Jackson 2008: 172). This conception of theory is criticised by defenders of strong

theory on the grounds that using different combinations of tools in each case hampers cross-case

generalization (see Kiser 1996: 258; Levy 1997: 31-2). I agree that it is less than fully satisfactory,

though for a different reason, viz. it fails to specify what form theories take and what functions they

serve when drawn upon. I contend that a more helpful idea, found explicitly or implicitly in the work

of many historians and philosophers of history, is that theories are generalized pictures of how the

world works which are not claimed to be descriptively accurate but rather function as ideal-types.25

As Weber (2004: 387) explains, an ideal type ‘is not a representation of the real, but seeks to provide

representation with unambiguous means of expression’. Ideal-types prescribe a way of marking out

events, provide a conceptual vocabulary for doing so, and indicate what we would expect to happen

under idealized conditions. They thereby direct inquiry by prompting the historian to ask to what

extent what happened matched these idealized expectations and to focus on explaining what is

highlighted, from this perspective, as the particularity of the case under investigation.26 As Weber

25 I claim that they function as ideal-types, not that they are explicitly developed as ideal-types. For a discussion of how an ideal-type suitable for use in historical inquiry may be developed, see Humphreys (forthcoming B). 26 Of course, investigating what appears, from the perspective of one ideal-type as a particularity, may require is to invoke more ideal types in a continuous process of inquiry that ends only when we feel we have delved sufficiently deeply to satisfy our curiosity. Historical explanation therefore involves a pragmatic judgement about how deeply to delve (see Humphreys forthcoming A).

15

(2004: 388) puts it: ‘Historical research has the task of determining in each individual case how close

to, or far from, reality such an ideal type is’. Thus in contrast to strong theory, there is no suggestion

that when reality (as it usually will) deviates from the ideal-type this constitutes a failing.

The power of an ideal-type conception of theory for making sense of how historical inquiry can be

theoretical is twofold. First, it links concepts to a more substantive set of theoretical expectations.

This reveals why soft theory is deserving of the label ‘theory’. If soft theory merely consisted in the

fact that the historian inevitably has to make choices about what to study, what scope parameters

(temporal, geographical, social, etc.) to impose, what to focus on, and what descriptive terminology

to employ, then we might acknowledge that such choices are likely to reflect the historian’s own

values, but insist that having made such choices the historian can proceed in essentially empirical

fashion to explore what happened and why. This is the stance adopted by reconstructionists: they

acknowledge the need to make choices which structure inquiry but do not regard this as severely

undermining History’s status as an empirical discipline. And this suggests, in turn, that history might

constitute an uncontroversial domain of data against which strong theories might be tested.

Ideal-type concepts are not merely labels, but also express idealized expectations about our object

of inquiry. Thus, for example, describing an action as being of a particular kind is conceptually linked

to expectations about the conditions under which such actions are performed and about their likely

consequences. Trachtenberg (2006: 27) argues that a historical interpretation ‘is not pieced

together from observed phenomena; it is rather what makes it possible to observe phenomena as

being of a certain sort, and as related to other phenomena’.27 It is the same with an ideal-type. We

do not assemble historical data and then choose appropriate labels, but rather construct the data by

describing (the evidence of) what happened by means of a conceptual scheme which not only labels

particular phenomena but also thereby positions them in relation to other kinds of phenomena.

If this is beginning to sound like a constructionist imposition of a theoretical framework which

dictates to the historian what she must find, then this is where the second aspect of an ideal-type

conception of theory comes in. Because we do not expect to find ideal-types precisely reproduced

in reality, the associated expectations serve as a baseline for analysis, rather than a prescription. By

articulating a set of idealized expectations about what will happen and why, a well-theorized ideal-

type provides a way of explaining actions and outcomes that do align with those expectations. It

27 He is citing Hanson, one of the few philosophers of science in the post-war era to devote significant attention to the context of discovery.

16

also prompts the historian to focus on the points where the individual case diverges from those

expectations, thereby orienting the inquiry in a particular direction. Finally, it invites comparisons

with other phenomena conceptualized in the same way, even though they may differ in detail. In

other words, the generalizations on which historians draw retain an element of fluidity: historians do

not typically claim that human action is a realm of empirical regularities, but rather that explaining

human actions draws on generalizations about human propensities, while remaining open to the

play of the particular.

It is important to recognize, moreover, that historians never address a tabula rasa: their data is

already theoretically-laden. Evidence from the past is itself theoretically-laden in the sense that it

utilises the conceptual vocabulary and associated expectations of past actors. As Osiander (2007)

points out, this requires the historian to judge whether it is reasonable to conceptualize historical

phenomena in terms that are familiar in the present but would not have been familiar to the actors

themselves.28 In addition, historians often respond to earlier histories which have proved incapable

of satisfactorily synthesizing a particular conceptualization of the evidence with our best theories

about how the world (ordinarily) works. Historians will reconceptualize elements of such histories in

order to, as Schroeder (1997: 68-9) puts it, reach ‘a new, better synoptic judgement’ that integrates

‘the evidence in a better, more comprehensive and profound way’. This reconceptualization will

involve a new theoretical baselines which will highlight different aspects of the object of inquiry as

deviating from our idealized expectations. Thus when an ideal-type theory is employed, it does not

so much impose a framework which prescribes how the evidence is to be interpreted as to bring a

different perspective to the inquiry.

To see briefly how concepts can be integrally connected to idealized theoretical expectations which

serve to orient inquiry, consider Kirton’s (1993) argument that the growing political influence of the

G7 in the late 1980s and early 1990s is explained by its concert-like features. In conceptualizing the

G7 as a concert, Kirton was clearly doing more than labelling features of the G7 identified through a

purely empirical inspection. First, he was seeking to overturn a previous way of thinking which had

treated the G7 like any other post-1945 international institution and supposed that its limited

bureaucratic capacity would constrain its effectiveness. Second, Kirton argued that the G7’s concert-

like features became more pronounced over time, notably as the end of the Cold War furthered the

effective concentration of global power within the G7. This suggests that the concert idea functions

as a theoretical baseline which the reality approaches to different degrees at different times. Third,

28 This is a particular problem in IR where we tend to reify the concept of the state.

17

Kirton used his conceptualization of the G7 as a concert to orient inquiry towards a crucial tension

this highlighted: between, on the one hand, the need to minimize bureaucratic machinery in order

to retain the flexibility and low transaction costs that make the concert model attractive to great

powers and, on the other hand, the need for the G7 to develop institutional machinery in order to

implement its agreements. Whether or not we accept it, it should be clear that his conceptualization

is associated with a theoretical baseline which orients inquiry towards some questions rather than

others and invites a comparison between the actual case and the expectations associated with that

baseline.29

This ideal-type construal of how soft theory can contribute to the process of historical inquiry is not

explicitly endorsed by many historians. It does, however, make sense of a range of common claims

made by historians about the nature of historical inquiry. For example, Ringer (1989: 156-7) argues

that historians use generalizations, but that they are imperfect, ‘characteristically and for the most

part’ generalizations which are ‘subject to modification’ in the course of historical explanation as it

becomes clear that other processes or conditions diverted what were ‘hypothetically posited as the

ordinary course of events’. More broadly, this conception of theory offers a plausible construal of

what historians mean when they talk of ‘working theories’ (see Sewell 2005: 6) which guide inquiry

but in a manner that allows pursuit of the evidence wherever it leads.30 Similarly, it makes sense of

how historians cope with ‘causal heterogeneity’ (Sewell 2005: 10): they draw on generalized models

but expect particular cases to deviate from those models to some extent. Finally, it can account for

why, in Mink’s (1987: 79) famous formulation, historians’ conclusions are never ‘detachable’ but are

rather ‘ingredient in the argument itself’: historians’ conclusions are not detachable because the

generalizations they employ do not subsume their cases, but rather provide a baseline for describing

both the generality and the particularity of their cases.

Construing the historian’s soft theory as an ideal-type resource also helps to make sense of how

historians can draw on strong theories in a way that still allows a meaningful process of historical

inquiry to take place. Sewell (2005: 5) notes that historians often ‘use social theory to orient their

thinking, or borrow its vocabulary in their interrogation of historical sources or in formulating their

arguments’ but ‘find that the concepts don’t quite fit, that they need to be adjusted, nuanced, or

combined with concepts from other, apparently incompatible, theoretical discourses in order to be

useful’ (see also Jordanova 2006: 67). One way of understanding this is that historians treat what

29 For a more detailed discussion of the characteristics of a concert ideal-type see Humphreys (forthcoming B). 30 It also offers a suggestive way of thinking about what Bates et al (1998: 12) might mean when they describe analytical models as capturing ‘the essence of stories’.

18

are intended as testable generalizations as idealized sets of expectations from which explanations

are permitted to depart as required by the specifics of the case. In other words, they employ such

theories as heuristic resources (Humphreys 2011). This is suggested by Veyne’s (1984: 119, 123)

description of a theory as ‘the summary of a prefabricated plot' which is utilized as ‘a heuristic

device’ and by Mink’s (1987: 74) suggestion that historians ‘regard generalized hypotheses not as

potential laws but as guides whose services they employ … the historian seems to use hypotheses as

suggestively rather than deductively fertile’.31 Historians treat hypotheses as relating to how things

might normally be expected to work out, not as claims about what must have happened in any

particular case.

This conception of soft theory can also make sense of what international historians mean by some of

their more cryptic remarks about how theory contributes to the process of historical inquiry. For

example, an ideal type might be understood as an engine of analysis or template which does not

itself provide ready-made answers in the sense that it provides an idealized picture which orients the

inquiry but from which deviation is required in the construction of any particular explanation. We

might also construe the thought experiments which Gaddis (1997: 76) identifies as being central to

the process of historical inquiry in ideal-typical terms, while generalizations might be regarded as

embedded in narratives in the sense that idealized sets of expectations are always adjusted to the

particularity of the case. Finally, construing theory in ideal-type terms might help make sense of the

gap between synoptic judgements and inferences from deductive frameworks: historical inquiry

requires judgement in the sense that there is no algorithm telling the historian how to bridge the

gap between an idealized set of expectations and the particularity of the case. Consequently, there

can also be no algorithm for evaluating a historical explanation: we can ask to what extent an

explanation makes sense of the available evidence and fits with what our best theories tell us about

how the world (usually) works, but whether an individual explanation fits well enough with evidence

and theory for us to accept it must involve a degree of judgement.

Theory and History in (the) Concert

I contend that this ideal type interpretation of how soft theory can contribute to the process of

historical inquiry not only makes sense of many international historians’ otherwise somewhat cryptic

pronouncements on the role of theory in history, but also captures how at least some international

31 Puchala (2003: 5) argues that IR theory ‘fails deductively’ but ‘nevertheless offers a rich and exciting array of heuristics’: it is ‘an intellectual treasure trove of Weberian ideal types’. Wendt’s cultures of anarchy might be one example (see Roberts 2006: 708).

19

historians and IR theorists actually operate when engaging with historical international relations. To

illustrate this, I briefly review how two theorists (Jervis and Mitzen) and two historians (Schroeder

and Schulz) set about explaining the relative peacefulness of the 19th-century Concert system. These

authors are chosen because they each illustrate my thesis, though in subtly different ways, even

though they represent a range of views on how the relative peacefulness of the Concert system is

best explained. While I do not evaluate their competing positions, I do aim to demonstrate the

plausibility of an ideal type model of how soft theory contributes to the context of discovery in

historical international relations, whether undertaken by IR theorists or international historians.32

Jervis (1985) provides a rationalist explanation for the relative peacefulness of the Concert system.

He argues (1985: 59) that under balance of power politics ‘states are restrained only externally, by

what others are doing, or by the anticipation of what others will do’: the order which emerges is a

product of the clash of competing self-interests. By contrast, concerts arise after major wars which

alter ‘the perceived payoffs’ by generating ‘unusually close bonds among the states of the counter-

hegemonic coalition’, including a collective interest in restraining the defeated hegemon, and by

undermining the perception that war is ‘a legitimate instrument of statecraft’ (Jervis 1985: 60).

However, as ‘memories of the war fade’, so the bonds among the victors and perceptions of the

costs of war erode, undermining concert-like cooperation (Jervis 1985: 61-2).

This might be construed as a straightforward example of how strong theory can be used to develop a

historical explanation: Jervis employs abstract reasoning to derive theoretical expectations then

shows how they were borne out in practice (see, for example, Jervis 1985: 63). However, much of

Jervis’s practice is better captured by an ideal-type model of how theory contributes to historical

explanation. First, although Jervis focuses on the Concert of Europe, he also identifies nascent

concerts as having arisen in 1919-20 and 1945-46, and while he argues that the same theoretical

baseline can be applied, he also acknowledges that ‘[d]ifferent factors were at work in each of the

three periods’ (Jervis 1985: 58). Indeed, he notes that the different outcomes in the three cases is

partly explained by the different perceptions of the actors as to the causes of the preceding

hegemonic war and the different measures taken to reduce the threat from the former hegemon

(Jervis 1985: 65, 67-8). Second, when he turns to a more detailed analysis of the 19th-century

concert, he complicates his theoretical baseline by introducing new factors such as the perceptions

by the French people of the legitimacy of their new regime, the emergence of altruistic motives and

32 For an exploration of the kinds of considerations that would have to come into play if we were to seek to evaluate these competing explanations against each other, see Humphreys (forthcoming A).

20

ties among the great powers, and the procedural norms of the Concert, including the ‘moral value’

they acquired (Jervis 1985: 67, 71). As he acknowledges (Jervis 1985: 68), such factors have no place

in the structural logic of a purely rationalist analysis. In other words, when he turns to a more

historical mode of inquiry, he treats his theory as a baseline set of idealized expectations which

structure his inquiry by highlighting the particularities of his case which stand in need of explanation.

The sense in which Mitzen (2013) can be understood as deploying theory in an ideal-type fashion

emerges through an understanding of her overall project. Her principal concern is not to explain the

relative peacefulness of the Concert system, but rather to develop a theory of how global

governance is possible through collective intentions and collective agency, especially in the absence

of a hegemon (Mitzen 2013: 1, 17). She therefore develops a theory of ‘international public power’

(Mitzen 2013: 5) which explains how institutionalized international forums can support the

emergence of joint commitments. Her discussion of the Concert of Europe is intended to ‘illustrate

the theoretical framework’: she provides a ‘stylized account’ rather than a full history (Mitzen 2013:

18, 66). However, she also seeks to ‘provide historical evidence of the rise of particular conditions

among European states that made it possible for interstate commitments and forums’ to produce

international public power for the first time (Mitzen 2013: 65). This is where the ideal-type nature of

her approach emerges.

Mitzen (2013: 63-4) does not seek to show that her theory of international public power is sufficient

to explain the (relatively) peaceful governance of the European system after 1815. Rather, she seeks

to show that the Vienna Settlement made international public power possible and that ‘the great

powers jointly, intentionally produced the long peace that followed’. In other words, the emergence

of international public power is a necessary part of the story, but only a part. Thus, for example, she

does not deny that balance of power politics operated during the Concert period, but rather denies

that a balance of power approach captures everything important (Mitzen 2013: 22).33 Her theory

therefore does not offer a set of testable predictions about the conditions under which public power

will emerge (see Mitzen 2013: 51). It does, though, provide a conceptual prism through which

concert institutions are to be viewed, and that in turn is connected to a set of idealized theoretical

expectations about the potential of these new fora to produce international public power. But these

expectations are not determinate: the implicit claim is that we have to examine, in any particular

episode of concert diplomacy, the extent to which the outcome is explicable in terms of the

33 She advances similar arguments against arguments from British hegemony, cultural commonality and systemic thinking (Mitzen 2013: 23-28).

21

operation of international public power, recognizing that aspects of balance of power politics,

hegemonic leadership, cultural commonality, and systemic-but-not-collective thinking are also in

play. Indeed, this is precisely what is at stake in her recent exchange with Rendall (see Goddard et al

2015): if we view her theory as a strong theory, proposing a determinate and testable explanation of

concert diplomacy, then it fails, whereas if we view it as a theoretical baseline from which deviation

is only to be expected in particular instances, then it is rather illuminating.

Although he does not articulate a theory as such, Schroeder is critical of histories which focus on

explaining motives and decisions. He argues (1972: xiv, xvi) that the reasons actors give are often

really justifications of actions which are principally shaped by the systemic context. He is therefore

committed to developing a systemic approach to international history, and one in which ‘collective

mentalities and assumptions’ are given just as much prominence as ‘structures’ and ‘forces of

change’ (Schroeder 1993: 134). However, this commitment does not determine what he will find.

He argues that between 1763 and 1848 there was a fundamental transformation in ‘the governing

rules, norms, and practices of international politics’ (Schroeder 1994: v). But the reason he identifies

such a transformation is not that his theoretical commitments dictate this (after all, mentalities and

assumptions can remain constant, as well as change) but rather that he finds a conceptualization of

international politics in terms of the balance-of-power adequate for the 18th-century but not for the

19th-century. He argues that such a conceptualization can make sense of neither the distribution of

power in the 19th-century (Schroeder 1992) nor of its language and norms (Schroeder 1989). He

therefore argues that a transformation takes place at two levels. The fundamental change is in the

development of systemic thinking: the great powers begin to consider the equilibrium of the

European order as a whole (Schroeder 1989: 141-2).34 They are able to achieve such an equilibrium

because of hegemonic imbalances at both a systemic and local level (Schroeder 1992: 692-3).

The ideal-type fashion in which Schroeder draws on his theoretical commitments therefore emerges

at various levels of the analysis.35 First, he works with some quite general assumptions about the

nature of social order, but these are orienting assumptions, not testable generalizations. Second, he

tries out different conceptualizations of the 19th-century international system (in terms of balance-

of-power politics or in terms of political equilibrium within a hegemonic distribution of power),

treating these not just as conceptual labels but as interpretive frameworks that come along with

34 Although Schroeder emphasizes systemic thinking, this need not imply collective intentionality of the kind emphasized by Mitzen. 35 Levy (1994) is more concerned about the resonances between Schroeder’s argument and different substantive IR theories than in how theoretical ideas contribute to Schroeder’s historical explanations.

22

their own attendant set of expectations about how international politics will typically operate.

Third, while theory clearly orients his inquiry, the specifics of his explanations are very much driven

by the particularity of the historical case. He works with an overall vision of the problem of systemic

order, but recognizes that this is worked out in different ways in different systems (see Schroeder

1986: 26; 1993: 128).

Whereas Schroeder (1994: v) begins his narrative by stressing the centrality of rules, norms, and

practices, in practice he often focuses more centrally on the hegemonic distribution of power within

the Concert system (see Schroeder 1986, 1992). And whereas for Schroeder (1986: 12) the rules and

norms associated with the Concert are just part of what produced a relatively peaceful system,

Schulz (forthcoming) adopts a more explicitly constructivist approach, focusing on how new norms

arose out of the procedures of concert diplomacy, notably the frequent ambassador conferences.

Schulz (2007: 45) therefore conceptualizes the concert as an ‘institution’ which was enabled to play a

regulative function partly because its ‘cultural patterns’ were widely ‘internalized’. However, he

recognizes that the ‘character and perception’ of the concert ‘evolved with time’ and also that ‘the

regulation of state behaviour through institution building in the international arena’ is ‘a non-linear,

unsteady, and reversible process’. As with Schroeder’s approach, therefore, Schulz’s is shaped by n

ideas about the nature of social order and how it changes, but these ideas do not prescribe what he

finds in particular episodes. Schulz interprets the Concert as a more substantive institution, wielding

greater legal and normative authority, than did earlier historians. But this interpretation is driven by

the finding that the ambassador conferences were much more prevalent than had previously been

recognized and a consequent dissatisfaction with previous conceptualizations of the concert which,

he judges, cannot accommodate this adequately.

One characteristic common to all these explanations of why the 19th-century Concert system was

relatively peaceful is that theory informs the context of discovery without determining what is

found. This highlights the central flaw with conceptualizing the relationship between history and

theory in IR through the lens of strong theory. The two theorists examined here explicitly draw on

abstract reasoning, but they treat their theories as baselines from which particular cases diverge in

ways that can be identified through historical inquiry. Moreover, the need for historical inquiry does

not arise just because the theories in question provide verified generalizations the details of which

then need filling in through purely empirical inquiry. Rather, the theory operates as a conceptual

lens through which the evidence is interpreted, such that the process of historical inquiry is itself

theoretically-laden, but in a way which does not determine its outcome. The two historians are less

23

explicit in developing abstract models, but they explicitly approach their research with certain ideas

in mind about the nature of social order and how it changes. As with the theorists, these ideas guide

the inquiry, in virtue of the conceptual language employed, the expectations accompanying any

conceptualization, and the distinctive orientation this gives to our sense of what is puzzling and what

stands in need of explanation, but without determining what is found.

Moreover, the theories that these scholars employ are not ideologies, held prior to engagement

with historical evidence, but rather reflect their attempt to make sense of their dissatisfaction with

previous conceptualizations. Thus Jervis was seeking to make sense of a greater degree of

cooperation than was expected within existing conceptualizations of balance-of-power politics.

Schroeder believed that even reading the evidence through the lens of a balance-of-power

conceptualization of international politics generated too much cognitive dissonance for that

conceptualization to be accepted. Mitzen and Schulz both, in different ways, respond to Schroeder,

accepting elements of his approach but adding in elements of reconceptualization to make better

sense of particular aspects of the 19th-century international system. In this sense, the various

theoretical ideas in play are not imposed on or evaluated on independent evidence, but are deeply

implicated in the construction of the evidence as being evidence of one thing rather than another.

Conclusion

Whereas IR theorists have often tended to approach the relationship between history and theory in

IR through the lens of a strong conception of theory, this is inadequate to the context of discovery.

In order to understand how theory contributes to historical inquiry, we require a softer conception

of theory. I have argued that an ideal type conception of theory is adequate to the possibility of

meaningful historical inquiry, while also making sense of (i) what many historians, including many

international historians, say about the role of theory in history, and (ii) the practice of at least some

international historians and also IR theorists who engage with history in IR. This argument is not an

argument against strong theory, the potential merits of which are obvious. However, it is an

argument in favour of pluralism about what counts as theory in IR. It is also an argument in favour

of engaging more centrally with the context of discovery and in favour of recognizing that theory can

enrich as well as simplify. As Hofstadter (2009: 234) put it, when the historian draws on theory, his

‘task has not been simplified; it has been enlarged. His work has not greater certainty, but greater

range and depth’. This is the central virtue of soft theory for historical inquiry.

24

My contention that the context of discovery in historical international relations is likely to be shaped

by ideal type theory also carries strong implications for how IR theorists use history. If historians

produce theoretically-laden histories, rather than generating an independent historical record, then

theories of the kind prized in IR cannot straightforwardly be tested against history. This raises

difficult questions about the degree of confidence we can have in a theory that appears to be borne

out in relation to a particular historical period, even if there appears to be a historical consensus.

Given the difficulties associated with hard theory testing, IR theorists might consider shifting from

pursuit of candidate causal laws to pursuit of what Scriven (1959: 464) termed ‘normic statements’,

that is, dispositional claims which are not definitionally true, and in relation to which we do not deny

the possibility of counter-examples, but the reasoning for which is intuitive and the claims of which

are widely borne out in practice. Because these are ‘guarded generalizations’ (Scriven 1959: 465)

rather than strictly universal claims, it is less problematic to regard them as supported by widely

accepted histories than it is with strictly universal claims. Moreover, this would admit of a much

greater degree of affinity between the contexts of discovery and justification, for in many cases the

idealized expectations associated with soft theory consist in precisely this kind of normic statement.

My argument also carries implications for the relationship between theory and history, on the one

hand, and policy-making on the other. Despite historians’ frequent warnings, the idea that history

implicitly involves strong theory suggests that theory might, in principle, play a predictive role in

learning from history. Moreover, we know that international policymakers are often influenced by

their reading of history (see Thorne 1983: 124; Khong 1992). The danger of construing historical

narratives as drawing on strong as opposed to soft theory is that it imbues them with false certainty.

By contrast, where historians are acknowledged to draw on soft theory, this helps to make sense of

why they are offering a historical interpretation rather than a statement of historical record. Not

only are different historians likely to employ different ideal types, but the interpretation of how each

individual case departs from an ideal type, and how that departure should be explained, inevitably

involves a degree of judgement. And if historical inquiry is made possible by a kind of theory which

offers baselines for analysis but does not predict what will happen in individual events, this might

also be an appropriately modest way of thinking about what history can offer to policymakers. The

significance of past cases is that they embody ideal-typical ideas about how the world ordinarily

works. We can learn a lot about what we take to be possible trajectories by examining the kinds of

idealized expectations we might have about historical cases, but no direct inference can be drawn

from what historians tell us happened in any particular case about what will happen in the future.

25

Bibliography

Anderle, Othmar F. (1964) ‘A Plea for Theoretical History’, History and Theory 4(1): 27-56.

Bates, Robert H. et al (1998) Analytic Narratives, Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press.

Bueno De Mesquita, Bruce (1996) 'The Benefits of a Social-Scientific Approach to Studying

International Affairs', in Ngaire Woods, ed., Explaining International Relations Since 1945,

Oxford: Oxford University Press, 49-76.

Callinicos, Alex (1995) Theories and Narratives: Reflections on the Philosophy of History, Cambridge:

Polity Press.

Carr, E. H. (2001 [1961]) What is History? With a New Introduction by Richard J. Evans, Basingstoke:

Palgrave.

Clark, Ian (2002) 'International Relations: Divided by a Common Language?' Government and

Opposition 37(2): 271-9.

Dray, W. H. (1971) ‘On the Nature and Role of Narrative in Historiography’, History and Theory 10(2):

153-71.

Dunne, Tim, Lene Hansen & Colin Wight (2013) ‘The End of International Relations Theory?’

European Journal of International Relations 19(3): 405-25.

Elman, Colin & Miriam Fendius Elman (1997) 'Diplomatic History And International Relations Theory:

Respecting Differences And Crossing Boundaries', International Security 22(1): 5-21.

Elman, Colin & Miriam Fendius Elman, eds. (2001a) Bridges and Boundaries: Historians, Political

Scientists, and the Study of International Relations, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press.

Elman, Colin & Miriam Fendius Elman (2001b) 'Negotiating International History And Politics', in

Colin Elman & Miriam Fendius Elman, eds., Bridges and Boundaries: Historians, Political

Scientists, and the Study of International Relations, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 1-

36.

Evans, Richard J. (2001) ‘Introduction’, in E. H. Carr, What is History? With a New Introduction by

Richard J. Evans, Basingstoke: Palgrave, ix-xlvi.

Finney, Patrick (2001) ‘Still “Marking Time”? Text, Discourse and Truth in International History’,

Review of International Studies 27(3): 291-308.

Fulbrook, Mary (2002) Historical Theory, London: Routledge.

Gaddis, John Lewis (1997) 'History, Theory, and Common Ground', International Security 22(1): 75-

85.

Gaddis, John Lewis (2001) 'In Defence of Particular Generalization: Rewriting Cold War History,

Rethinking International Relations Theory', in Colin Elman and Miriam Fendius Elman, eds.,

26

Bridges and Boundaries: Historians, Political Scientists, and the Study of International

Relations, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 301-26.

Gaddis, John Lewis (2002) The Landscape of History: How Historians Map the Past, Oxford: Oxford

University Press.

Gallie, W. B. (1963) ‘The Historical Understanding’, History and Theory 3(2): 149-202.

Goddard, Stacie E. et al (2015) ‘Roundtable 7-11 on the Congress of Vienna and Dialogue between IR

Scholars and Historians’, International Security Studies Forum,

http://issforum.org/roundtables/7-11-congress-of-vienna (accessed 17 Sep 2015).

Goldthorpe, John H. (1991) 'The Uses of History in Sociology: Reflections on some Recent

Tendencies', British Journal Of Sociology 42(2): 211-30.

Haber, Stephen H., David M. Kennedy & Stephen D. Krasner (1997) 'Brothers Under the Skin:

Diplomatic History and International Relations', International Security 22(1): 34-43.

Hempel, Carl G. (1942) ‘The Function of General Laws in History’, The Journal of Philosophy 39(2): 35-

48.

Hexter, J. H. (1971) Doing History, London: George Allen & Unwin.

Hofstadter, Richard (2009) Extract from ‘History and the Social Sciences’, in John Tosh, ed.,

Historians on History, 2nd ed., Hounslow: Pearson, 230-7.

Humphreys, Adam R. C. (2011) ‘The Heuristic Application of Explanatory Theories in International

Relations’, European Journal of International Relations 17(2): 257-77.

Humphreys, Adam R. C. (forthcoming A) ‘Causation, Complexity and the Concert: The Pragmatics of

Causal Explanation in International Relations’, Journal of International Relations and

Development.

Humphreys, Adam R. C. (forthcoming B) ‘Concerts as a Mode of Ordering in World Politics: An Ideal-

Type Approach’, in Harald Müller & Carsten Rauch, eds., Title TBC.

Ingram, Edward (1997) ‘The Wonderland of the Political Scientist’, International Security 22(1): 53-

63.

Isacoff, Jonathan B. (2009) ‘Pragmatism, History and International Relations’, in Harry Bauer &

Elisabetta Brighi, eds., Pragmatism in International Relations, London: Routledge, 65-81.

Jackson, Peter (2008) 'Pierre Bourdieu, the "Cultural Turn" and the Practice of International History',

Review of International Studies 34(1): 155-81.

Jervis, Robert (1985) ‘From Balance to Concert: A Study of International Security Cooperation’,

World Politics 38(1): 58-79.

Jordanova, Ludmilla (2006) History in Practice, 2nd ed., London: Hodder Arnold.

27

Kaplan, Abraham (1964) The Conduct of Inquiry: Methodology for Behavioural Science, Aylesbury:

Intertext Books.

Khong, Yuen Foong (1992) Analogies at War: Korea, Munich, Dien Bien Phu, and the Vietnam

Decisions of 1965, Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Kirton, John (1993) ‘The Seven-Power Summit as a New Security Institution’, in David Dewitt, David

Haglund & John Kirton, eds., Building a New Global Order: Emerging Trends in International

Security, Toronto: Oxford University Press, 335-57.

Kiser, Edgar (1996) 'The Revival of Narrative in Historical Sociology: What Rational Choice Theory can

Contribute', Politics and Society 24(3): 249-71.

Kiser, Edgar & Michael Hechter (1991), 'The Role of General Theory in Comparative-Historical

Sociology', The American Journal Of Sociology 97(1): 1-30.

Knorr, Klaus E. & James N. Rosenau (1969) Contending Approaches to International Politics,

Princeton: Princeton University Press.

Lake, David A. (2011) ‘Why “isms” are Evil: Theory, Epistemology, and Academic Sects as

Impediments to Understanding and Progress’, International Studies Quarterly 55(2): 465-80.

Lawson, George (2012) ‘The Eternal Divide? History and International Relations’, European Journal

of International Relations 18(2): 203-26.

Lebow, Richard Ned (2001) 'Social Science and History: Ranchers versus Farmers?' in Colin Elman &

Miriam Fendius Elman, eds., Bridges and Boundaries: Historians, Political Scientists, and the

Study of International Relations, Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 111-35.

Levy, Jack S. (1994) ‘The Theoretical Foundations of Paul W. Schroeder’s International System’,

International History Review 16(4): 615-44.

Levy, Jack S. (1997) 'Too Important to Leave to the Other: History and Political Science in the Study

of International Relations', International Security 22(1): 22-33.

Levy, Jack S. (2001) 'Explaining Events and Developing Theories: History, Political Science, and the

Analysis of International Relations', in Colin Elman & Miriam Fendius Elman, eds., Bridges

and Boundaries: Historians, Political Scientists, and the Study of International Relations,

Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press, 39-83.

Lustick, Ian S. (1996) ‘History, Historiography, and Political Science: Multiple Historical Records and

the Problem of Selection Bias’, American Political Science Review 90(3): 605-18.

Mahoney, James, Erin Kimball & Kendra L. Koivu (2009) ‘The Logic of Historical Explanation in the

Social Sciences’ Comparative Political Studies 42(1): 114-46.

Martin, Raymond (1982) ‘Causes, Conditions, and Causal Importance’, History and Theory 21(1): 53-

74.

28

Marwick, Arthur (2001) The New Nature of History: Knowledge, Evidence, Language, Basingstoke:

Palgrave.

May, Ernest R., Richard Rosecrance & Zara Steiner (2010) History and Neorealism, Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press.

Mink, Louis O. (1987) ‘The Autonomy of Historical Understanding’, in Brian Fay, Eugene O. Golob &

Richard T. Vann, eds., Historical Understanding, Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 61-88.

Munslow, Alan (2006) Deconstructing History, 2nd ed., London: Routledge.

Mitzen, Jennifer (2013) Power in Concert: The Nineteenth-Century Origins of Global Governance,

Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Novick, Peter (1988) That Noble Dream: The “Objectivity Question” and the American Historical

Profession, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Osiander, Andreas (2007) Before the State: Systemic Political Change in the West from the Greeks to

the French Revolution, Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Puchala, Donald J. (2003) Theory and History in International Relations, New York: Routledge.

Ringer, Fritz K. (1989) 'Causal Analysis in Historical Reasoning', History and Theory 28(2): 154-72.

Roberts, Geoffrey (2006) 'History, Theory and the Narrative Turn in IR', Review Of International

Studies 32(4): 703-14.

Ruggie, John Gerard (1998) ‘What Makes the World Hang Together? Neo-Utilitarianism and the

Social Constructivist Challenge’, International Organization 52(4): 855-85.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1972) Austria, Great Britain, and the Crimean War: The Destruction of the

European Concert, Ithaca: Cornell University Press.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1986) ‘The 19th-Century International System: Changes in the Structure’, World

Politics 39(1): 1-26.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1989) ‘The Nineteenth-Century System: Balance of Power or Political

Equilibrium’, Review of International Studies 15(2): 133-53.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1992) ‘Did the Vienna Settlement Rest on a Balance of Power?’ American

Historical Review, 97(3): 683-706.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1993) ‘“System” and Systemic Thinking in International History’, International

History Review 15(1): 116-34.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1994) The Transformation of European Politics 1763-1848, Oxford: Clarendon

Press.

Schroeder, Paul W. (1997) 'History and International Relations Theory: Not Use or Abuse, but Fit or

Misfit', International Security 22(1): 64-74.

29

Schulz, Matthias (2007), ‘Did Norms Matter in Nineteenth-Century International Relations? Progress

and Decline in the “Culture of Peace” Before World War I’, in Holger Afflerbach & David

Stevenson (eds.), An Improbable War? The Outbreak of World War I and European Political

Culture before 1914, New York: Berghahn Books, 43-60.

Schulz, Matthias (forthcoming) ‘The Concert of Europe: How did it Work, What did it Accomplish,

What were its Shortcomings, What can we Learn?’ in Harald Müller & Carsten Rauch, eds.,

Title TBC.

Scriven, Michael (1959) ‘Truisms as the Grounds for Historical Explanations’, in Patrick Gardiner (ed.)

Theories of History, Glencoe, Illinois: Free Press, 443-75.

Sewell, William H. Jr. (2005), Logics of History: Social Theory and Social Transformation, Chicago:

University of Chicago Press.

Sil, Rudra & Peter J. Katzenstein (2010) Beyond Paradigms: Analytical Eclecticism in the Study of

World Politics, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan.

Smith, Thomas W. (1999) History and International Relations, London: Routledge.

Suganami, Hidemi (2008) ‘Narrative Explanation and International Relations: Back to Basics’,

Millennium: Journal of International Studies 37(2): 327-56.

Thorne, Christopher (1983) ‘International Relations and the Prompting of History’, Review of

International Studies 9(2): 123-35.

Trachtenberg, Marc (2006) The Craft of International History: A Guide to Method, Princeton, New

Jersey: Princeton University Press.

Vaughan-Williams, Nick (2005) ‘International Relations and the “Problem of History”’, Millennium:

Journal of International Studies 34(1): 115-36.

Veyne, Paul (1984 [1971]) Writing History: Essay on Epistemology, trans. Mina Moore-Rinvolucri,

Manchester: Manchester University Press.

Weber, Max (2004 [1904]) ‘The “Objectivity” of Knowledge in Social Science and Social Policy’, in

Sam Whimster, ed., The Essential Weber: A Reader, London: Routledge, 359-404.

White, Hayden (1987) The Content of the Form: Narrative Discourse and Historical Representation,

Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press.

Wohlforth, William C. (1999) ‘A Certain Idea of Science: How International Relations Theory Avoids

the New Cold War History’, Journal of Cold War Studies 1(2): 39-60.