Ashes to ashes indeed. It is of course not entirely true to say we enter the world as a blank slate: we owe our parents a certain genetic inheritance, plus we find ourselves in a world which is none of our choosing.
Nor do we leave it with nothing outstanding. I’m satisfied that my life is finite, having no expectation of any kind of hereafter; the gods are human inventions to lend comfort and, at a push, a cognitive framework of sorts for the living.
I don’t yet have a date for my departure, but it’s likely I’ll leave behind me four daughters and six grandchildren (who knows, maybe I’ll hang around long enough to see a great grandchild). Part of me will survive in who they are, wrapped up in genes, socialisation and my engagement in who they are and will become. I will survive also in their memories of me. Like everyone I’m sure, I hope the good memories will outnumber or at least subdue the other sort.
I will also be accessible in a personal sense of sorts via the Internet, increasingly courtesy of AI. For fun rather than with posterity in mind I am actively feeding this continuing presence by putting blogs (like this one) on a website: www.grahamscambler.com. Even my parents and their parents have made a posthumous appearance in blogs and photos I’ve posted.
I will live on for a while also through writings currently in print in the form of books, chapters and articles. It seems probable that these will, like me, have finite lives, although there’s the ever-evolving virtual accommodation and dissemination of the written word to be factored in. There will doubtless eventually be an endpoint, though maybe not until we humans either render the written word altogether redundant via new technologies or pull the plug on our survival as a species. So in due course every memory of me, everything I’ve written, will disappear. Ashes to ashes. It’s as well to be aware of this even if there’s nothing one can do about it.
All this is probably a function of reading Terry Eagleton’s latest volume, entitled ‘A Death of One’s Own’. He writes brilliantly: a firework display of insight and wit (if perhaps lacking a clear theoretical backdrop). As I too edge closer to surviving only in others’ memories and words bequeathed, I’ve found myself reaching for a preliminary appraisal of what my writings might amount to. I venture this as a form of self-indulgent experimentation, in fun, fully appreciating that this is ultimately for others to determine. But bear with me.
My general judgement is that my published work has largely been directed towards my fellow sociologists, in related attempts to: (i) develop and elaborate on extant theory and research in fields like social theory, health, inequality, sport and sex work; (ii) point to ways in which phenomena in these fields might be better understood, explained, organised and, sometimes, reformed; (iii) convince others not to permit theory and research to be separated out into discrete discourses; and (iv) critique current attacks on universities in general and the arts, humanities and social sciences in particular, via funding cuts, culls and institutional metrication. This quartet betrays what Wittgenstein might have termed ‘family resemblances’ with reference to the ‘sociological project’.
One rider before I elaborate further. If I had to put my finger on an aspect of my career that gave me most pleasure, or satisfaction, I wouldn’t be my writing: it would be teaching, especially of undergrads. To witness and assist in an opening of minds has been paramount for me. I used to teach philosophy on the PGCE and recall that the philosopher of education Richard Peters wrote that education is ‘intrinsically worthwhile’. So it is. And I’ve had some great students.
So – accepting that it’s up to others to judge – how do I personally evaluate what I’ve written? And what, if anything, might outlast me, at least for a while. Maybe predictably, what I rate most highly may well prove to be inversely related to its survival capacity.
I’m distinguishing between (a) what I’m most pleased with, (b) what I think has made most impact, and (c) what is most likely to survive. I’m suggesting three under each heading.
Most pleased with:
- ‘Sociology, Health and the Fractured Society: A Critical Realist Account’ (London; Routledge, 2018) (won the Cheryl Frank Memorial prize for best critical realist book of the year, and shortlisted for that year’s Sociology of Health and Illness book prize).
- ‘The ‘project of modernity’ and the parameters for a critical sociology: an argument with illustrations from medical sociology’. Sociology 30 567-581.
- ‘Habermas and medical expertise’, in my edited ‘Sociological Theory and Medical Sociology’ (London; Tavistock) (Habermas liked it).
Most impact:
- ‘Sociology as Applied to Medicine’, initially edited with Donald Patrick before I took over as editor and going into seven editions between 1982 and 2018 (a widely used and influential early textbook for medical students – for which any personal credit must be shared with all those colleagues who contributed over the years).
- ‘Being epileptic: coming to terms with stigma’ Sociology of Health and Illness 8 26-43 (my most cited paper).
- ‘Health-related stigma’ Sociology of Health and Illness 31 441-455.
Most likely to survive:
- ‘Stigma in Contemporary Society’ (Bristol; Policy Press) (this is currently In Press, but I think/hope it will become required reading in the area of stigma studies, appealing to students and colleagues alike).
- ‘Being epileptic: coming to terms with stigma’ (as above) (possibly likely to be cited ‘routinely’ along with the likes of Bury on ‘biographical disruption’, Charmaz on ‘loss of self’ and Williams on ‘narrative reconstruction’).
- ‘The Sociological theory of Margaret Archer: A Critical Appraisal’ (London; Routledge, 2026) (as a basic resource for people interested in Archer’s excellent theory but wary of the complexity and density of her writings).
So much for my mix of guesswork and wishful thinking. Who knows? I’m already having doubts. My most accessible books are probably:
‘A Sociology of Shame and Blame: Insiders Versus Outsiders’ (London; Palgrave, 2020).
‘Healthy Societies’ (Bristol; Policy Press, 2024).
Anyway, here’s an end to my speculations.