Building Social Theory for a Rapidly Changing World

“No amount of sophistication is going to allay the fact that all of your knowledge is about the past and all your decisions are about the future.”

— Ian E. Wilson, former executive at General Electric

Uncertainty, flexibility, diversification, adaptability, range. These are the words repeated in each panel, in each speech, and in each conversation I observed at the ninth edition of the annual EU-US Young Leaders Seminar. Hosted in Brussels, the seminar invited 25 U.S. Fulbright grantees representing EU countries and 25 Erasmus+ European students, with the majority being future policymakers, lawyers, educators, doctors, and entrepreneurs. This year’s edition focused on “The Future of Skills and Leadership,” a deliberately broad theme reflecting the increasing complexity of the global landscape.

Against this backdrop, uncertainty did not solely reside in the words of cautious twenty-somethings about to enter a rapidly shifting labor market. Rather, it hung over the seminar itself—reverberating in the distant bombs falling across the Middle East, in the speakers’ deliberate choices of words, in the chants of protesters only a few blocks away, in the accelerating race to the bottom in artificial intelligence, and in the slow, fraying of support for climate action and the long-standing liberal order. Even panels meant to highlight the transatlantic alliance produced palpable tension in the room, with one speaker aptly referring to our era as the “Age of Consequences.”¹ In fact, the seminar itself appeared to have an underlying, existential purpose: fostering people-to-people connections among its young participants as a hedge against uncertainty regarding the future of transatlantic relations. No one seemed entirely sure whether this moment was merely a page to turn or rather the tipping point of a new world order.

However, this honesty about “what went wrong” and humility about what we still don’t know was refreshing, particularly in the context of a serious and self-important Brussels. Despite the figurative storm unfolding outside, the predominant tone in the room was one of friendship, understanding, and resilience. The invited corporate leaders, MEPs, and policymakers were keen to speak to who they saw as the next generation. My peers were also sincere, willing to adapt to whatever world they would inherit. Yet, observing these interactions, one dynamic became particularly evident: actors’ own awareness of fundamental uncertainty and their expectations of continual change.

As a sociologist, I am familiar with the remarkable stability of important social phenomena. Elites reproduce, institutions become “iron cages,” and discrimination continues reinventing itself in all shapes and sizes. However, it is also critical that we remember that actors certainly do not conceptualize themselves as existing within a stable world.² They are taught to look forward rather than around them, and to avoid investing too heavily in decisions with high exit costs. The skills most sought-after in the labor market now are non-technical and non-specialized. Decision-making. Communication. “Learning how to learn.” With the alleged triumph of STEM now under threat, one labor market expert described how they would encourage their own children to study both physics and philosophy—or any similar combination that maximizes range over specialization. Adam Smith might well be turning in his grave.

At the risk of assuming the present is a genuine rupture from the past, I would argue that this deeply conscious experience of political and economic uncertainty is a defining feature of social behavior today. As much as uncertainty is a function of information, it also reflects something far more existential—the extent to which we, as individuals, control the link between our actions and their outcomes. Without a guarantee that this link will hold, large investments are often not advisable. For years, strategic long-term thinking defined a sound business plan. Today, a paradigmatic strategy should not even try to predict what will happen beyond the next few years—or even months.

So, for researchers, politicians, market analysts—or anyone interested in how people make decisions—here are three things to keep in mind when simplifying reality in ways that can be communicated to others (i.e. theory-building).

First, we must take into account the changing stakes of commitment. While it is widely recognized that some actions are relatively fixed while others are easier to undo, perceptions of “what is at stake”³ are changing quickly and heterogeneously. For example, investment in human capital development was once considered relatively safe. However, rapid technological change has made their future returns less certain.⁴ Actors who believe that AI may soon outperform humans in every task may choose to maximize their present income rather than investing in further education or skill development. Not everyone will think this way, but a growing “commitment phobia” may reshape demand for certain forms of education and training. We may also see a decline in the salience of occupational identities; if workplace tasks can be easily automated, individuals may come to identify less with their professional expertise and more so with other (political, familial, material) dimensions of their lives.

These are only examples of potential labor market implications, but a similar logic can be applied to other spheres of social reality. Simply ask: Are the exit costs and payoff structures of the phenomena I am interested in expected to change? To the same extent for everyone?

Second, as mentioned above, exogenous change splinters the relationship between individuals’ actions and their outcomes, increasing the need to focus on motives and mechanisms. This emphasis on mechanisms is not new in the academic world, but we may, at times, forget that motives and valuation processes are also dynamic, shaped by changing contexts and expectations. Individuals may assume that voting for one party will produce a certain outcome in one election cycle but not another. Some firms may respond to technological change by investing in AI and laying off workers, while others may double down on human collaboration and interpersonal skills.

In this sense, researchers must not assume what actors are thinking but instead engage with the communities in which they are embedded. Much can be gained simply from spending time with the people you study. Go to conferences outside of your field, find online chat groups, follow social media pages, and share ideas with friends and family. The process of theory building need not always be formal.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, we should all understand and stand up for the social implications of uncertainty faced by the actors we study. While at the EU-US Young Leaders Seminar, I was proud of the open discussions and critiques posed by my peers. Participants questioned the environmental, social, and political consequences of policy suggestions and business decisions. They were concerned about workplace cultures that normalized burnout and anxiety. They refused to let precarity be disguised by the familiar euphemism of “flexibility.” I am convinced that there will be leaders in the next generation who believe that solidarity remains possible, even in an uncertain world.

Following Chatham House rules, I do not reveal the identity of any speakers or participants.

Notes