You have coined the famous distinction between problem-solving and critical theory in your article

Social Forces, States and World Orders. If problem-solving theory serves the purposes of the prevailing
status quo, for whom or for what purpose is critical theory? I think the two are distinct but not mutually
exclusive. I do not argue for critical theory to the exclusion of problem solving theory. Problem solving
takes the world as it is and focuses on correcting certain dysfunctions, certain specific problems. Critical
theory is concerned with how the world, that is all the conditions that problem solving theory takes as
the given framework, may be changing. Because problem solving theory has to take the basic existing
power relationships as given, it will be biased towards perpetuating those relationships, thus tending to
make the existing order hegemonic. What critical theory does, is question these very structural
conditions that are tacit assumptions for problem-solving theory, to ask whom and which purposes such
theory serves. It looks at the facts that problem-solving theory presents from the inside, that is, as they
are experienced by actors in a context which also consists of power relations. Critical theory thus
historicizes world orders by uncovering the purposes problem solving theories within such an order
serve to uphold. By uncovering the contingency of an existing world order, one can then proceed to
think about different world orders. It is more marginal than problem solving theory since it does not
comfortably provide policy recommendations to those in power. What I meant is that there is no theory
for itself; theory is always for someone, for some purpose. There is no neutral theory concerning human
affairs, no theory of universal validity. Theory derives from practice and experience, and experience is
related to time and place. Theory is a part of history. It addresses the problematic of the world of its
time and place. An inquirer has to aim to place himself above the historical circumstances in which a
theory is propounded. One has to ask about the aims and purposes of those who construct theories in
specific historical situations. Broadly speaking, for any theory, there are two possible purposes to serve.
One is for guiding the solving of problems posed within the particular context, the existing structure.
This leads to a problem-solving form of theory, which takes the existing context as given and seeks to
make it work better. The other which I call critical theory is more reflective on the processes of change
of historical structures, upon the transformation or challenges arising within the complex of forces
constituting the existing historical structure, the existing ‘common sense’ of reality. Critical thinking then
contemplates the possibility of an alternative. WWW.THEORY‐TALKS.ORG 6 The strength of problem-
solving theory relies in its ability to fix limits or parameters to a problem area, and to reduce the
statement of a particular problem to a limited number of variables which are amenable to rather close
and clear examination. The ceteris paribus assumption, the assumption that other things can be ignored,
upon which problem-solving theorizing relies, makes it possible to derive a statement of laws and
regularities which appear of general applicability. Critical theory, as I understand it, is critical in the
sense that it stands apart from the prevailing order, and asks how that world came about. It does not
just accept it: a world that exists has been made, and in the context of a weakening historical structure it
can be made anew. Critical theory, unlike problem-solving theory, does not take institutions and social
power relations for granted, but calls them into question by concerning itself with their origins, and
whether and how they might be in process of changing. It is directed towards an appraisal of the very
framework for action, the historical structure, which the problem-solving theory accepts as its
parameters. Critical theory is a theory of history, in the sense that it is not just concerned about the
politics of the past, but the continuing process of historical change. Problem-solving theory is not
historical, it is a-historical, in the sense that it in effect posits a continuing present, It posits the
continuity of the institutions of power relations which constitute the rules of the game which are
assumed to be stable. The strength of the one is the weakness of the other: problem-solving theory can
achieve great precision, when narrowing the scope of inquiry and presuming stability of the rules of the
game, but in so doing, it can become an ideology supportive of the status quo. Critical theory sacrifices
the precision that is possible with a circumscribed set of variables in order to comprehend a wider range
of factors in comprehensive historical change. Critical theory, in my mind, does not propound remedies
or make predictions about the emerging shape of things, world order for example. It attempts rather, by
analysis of forces and trends, to discern possible futures and to point to the conflicts and contradictions
in the existing world order that could move things towards one or other of the possible futures. In that
sense it can be a guide for political choice and action. How would that distinction apply to a
contemporary issue such as, say, climate change? With the example of climate change, the question is
not to choose between problem-solving or critical theory. Problem solving theory is practical and
necessary since it tells us how to proceed given certain conditions (for instance, the consequences to be
expected from carbon generated from certain forms of behavior in terms of damage to the biosphere).
Critical theory broadens the scope of inquiry by analyzing the forces favoring or opposing changing
patterns of behavior. In the example of climate change, problem-solving theory asks how to support the
big and ever increasing world population by industrial means yet with a kind of energy that is not going
to pollute the planet. It requires a lot of innovative thought, has to mobilize huge reluctant and
conservative social forces within a slow moving established order with vested interests in the political
and industrial complex surrounding existing energy sources. Problem-solving theory gives opportunity to
innovate and explore new forms of energy. Critical theory would take one step further and envisage a
world order focused not just on humanity but on the whole of life, taking into account the web of
relations in which humanity is only part in our world. Humans have to come to terms what it means to
be part of the biosphere, and not just the dominant feature. In fact, it is a big problem of Western
religion and modernist enlightenment thinking alike that nature is seen to be created in service of
humans in the first, WWW.THEORY‐TALKS.ORG 7 and is a force to be dominated in the second. Both
Western religion and modernism have analytically disembedded humans from nature, turning nature
into something to be dominated or an abstracted factor of production. To rethink this, to make humans
part of nature, implies seeing humans as an entity with a responsibility vis-à-vis the bigger world of
which they are a part
Robert Cox began his canonical 1981 essay “Social Forces, States and World
Orders: Beyond International Relations Theory” with the observation that it is
“necessary and practical” for academic disciplines to “divide up the seamless
web of the real social world”. We make these divisions, Cox wrote, in order to
analyse the world and thus to produce practical knowledge of that world. It is not
a stretch to suggest that the real social world of International Relations
scholarship might also be approached as worthy of analysis and theory. Indeed,
reflection on International Relations as theory appears in the field as part of the
necessary and practical division of the complexity of the social and political
world. Rare is the introduction to IR textbook that does not emphasize, and
usually begin with, the “great (theoretical) debates” that have structured the field
since it emerged as an academic discipline.
Armenian military convoy crosses Kalbajar district ahead of its handover to Azerbaijan
Thus theory itself has long and often been treated as an object for theoretical
reflection in International Relations. Recently, we could point to both the founding
of a specific section of the US-based International Studies Association dedicated
to Theory – indeed, this section honoured Professor Cox at the ISA convention in
Toronto in 2014 – as well as the special issue in September 2013 of
the European Journal of International Relations on “The End of IR Theory?”,
accompanied by a wide-ranging discussion of the papers collected there in
the Duck of Minerva blog.

For some of the contributors to the special issue and to the debates on the
symposium – and I hope I can be forgiven for making an impressionistic
observation rather than an analytical one – it seems that the question mark at the
end of “the end of IR theory?” was a sign of fatigue rather than a sense that the
debates over theory needed to be renewed. Fatigue, in the sense of “are we still
having this conversation?” or “haven’t we moved on yet?” Emblematic of this
fatigue were the reflections of Professor Chris Brown in both his article in
the EJIR and his contribution to the symposium. It’s not that Brown is hostile to
theory; on the contrary, his contribution was a complaint that the critical theories
that emerged in the 1980s had not fulfilled their potential and that problem-
solving theory had contributed much more.

I disagree with his assessment of the status of critical theory, as do many of the
contributors to the special issue and to the symposium, in particular with his
claim that it has failed to live up to the promise it showed in the 1980s – but that’s
a conversation for another time. What is most interesting here is how Brown
takes up Cox’s analytical division of “critical theory” from “problem-solving
theory”. Indeed, the trope of problem-solving versus critical theory is asserted
quite often in discussions of the status of theory in IR: for example, in A. C.
McKeil; in Robert W. Murray; or in Ali Diskaya, just to take a few examples
appearing here in e-IR. It is this trope, along with Cox’s other oft-cited claim in
the 1981 Millennium article that “theory is always for someone and for some
purpose” (Cox 1981: 129) that have made his article canonical. Indeed, Cox’s
categories of “critical” and “problem-solving” are now part of the very common-
sense ordering of theory in IR.

It is therefore important to consider what Cox actually said about these

categories. Problem-solving theory, first, “takes the world as it finds it, with the
prevailing social and power relationships and the institutions into which they are
organised, as the given framework for action. The general aim of problem-solving
is to make these relationships and institutions work smoothly by dealing
effectively with particular sources of trouble” (Cox 1981, 128-129). This definition,
remember, follows Cox’s opening statements in the article about the importance
of theory for the production of practical knowledge. Cox is often interpreted as
elevating critical theory over problem solving theory – Brown takes him to do so,
for example, in the symposium when he says Cox “compared ‘problem-solving’
theory unfavourably with ‘critical theory’” but I am not convinced that a careful
reading of Cox’s article supports this (and Cox argues something similar). In
addition to signalling the importance of theory for practical knowledge, Cox
explicitly notes, for example, how the analytical procedures he sees as defining
problem-solving theory are the source of its strength. He takes issue with the
idea that problem-solving theory is value-free and asserts that it is conservative
(Cox 1981: 129-130) but this is as close to a normative assessment of problem-
solving theory as Cox gets.

Critical theory, in contrast, is holistic where problem-solving theory is analytic. It

“does not take institutions and social and power relations for granted but calls
them into question by concerning itself with their origins and how and whether
they might be in the process of changing. … Critical theory is directed to the
social and political complex as a whole rather than to the separate parts” (Cox
1981: 129). Cox also allows that where problem-solving theory might be seen as
conservative, critical theory might be seen as utopian: “Its aims are just as
practical as those of problem-solving theory, but it approaches practice from a
perspective with transcends that of the existing order. … Critical theory allows for
a normative choice in favour of a social and political order different from the
prevailing order, but it limits the range of choice to alternative orders which are
feasible transformations of the existing world” (Cox 1981: 130).

I suspect that it is this holistic and utopian range for critical theory as asserted by
Cox that leads Brown to identify critical theory with Quentin Skinner’s notion of
Grand Theory and leads so many of the rest of us to assume that critical theory
is posited as a superior theoretical approach to problem-solving theory. I’ve tried
to show that Cox, at least, makes no explicit claims to that effect. Nevertheless,
the categories Cox bequeathed to us seem to encourage us to turn this binary,
critical versus problem-solving theory, into a hierarchy. Readers of International
Relations theory instinctively want to read it as political theory – though as Rob
Walker might remind us, this does not make us careful readers of political theory
either. Perhaps we need to acknowledge that the theoretical choice presented by
the binary critical theory-problem-solving theory is, at least, theory as engaged in
a political contest.

Should Cox’s categories be preserved, critiqued, or abandoned? Would doing so

lend a clearer (and practical) view of theory in the field? One way to extend the
engagement with the practice of theory would be to read Cox’s categories
alongside the other famous definition of critical theory, in Max Horkheimer’s
essay “Traditional and Critical Theory” (Horkheimer 2014 [1937]). Though Cox
did not explicitly cite Horkheimer, the latter’s efforts to distinguish critical theory
from what he called “traditional theory” make him an obvious interlocutor. (There
are, of course, many other serious contributions to the effort to situate theory
socially and politically, from Bourdieu to Foucault, from Bruno Latour to Walter
Mignolo. Many of these efforts are considered in the EJIR special issue and the
Duck of Minerva symposium.) I focus on Horkheimer here in part due to the clear
affinities between his approach and Cox’s and in part because Horkheimer, like
Cox and as I would like to do, provides an explicit defence of the enterprise of
critical theory.

While the scale of Horkheimer’s critique, engaged as he was with theory per se,
is much grander than the stage Cox builds when he focuses on IR theory in the
1981 article, their accounts of “traditional” and “problem-solving” theory are
remarkably similar. Cox notes how the power of problem-solving theory stems
from its methodological “fixing” of the social and institutional parameters
surrounding the variables it examines. For Horkheimer, this method, rooted in
Descartes and predominant not only in social sciences but in science generally in
his time, stems from the ability of the scholar to abstract him or herself from
these social and institutional parameters in the production of theories and
analyses. In other words, just as in any production process where a division of
labour separates the subjective functions of planning, designing, interpreting, and
analysing from the executive functions, traditional theory renders the world under
study as objective and passive and the scientist an active, analysing subject.

In their conceptualisations of critical theory, however, Cox and Horkheimer differ

slightly but in an important way. While both are concerned to defend theory as an
approach to a dynamic and interconnected totality, Cox does not foreground the
status of the theorist, while for Horkheimer the critical theorist must engage with
theory as a productive process. Cox does take neorealism to task for neglecting
the production process in the constitution of national interest (Cox 1981: 134-
135) but Horkheimer goes further: it is not a matter of adding another parameter
or variable to the theoretical enterprise; it is a matter of understanding the
theoretical enterprise itself in relation to and as a part of a general production
process and division of labour. When Cox wrote in 1981, the prevailing
epistemology in IR and the epistemological commitment of problem-solving or
traditional theory was realist: the world exists independently of our thoughts
about it and the task of theory is to make thought adequate to reality. What
Horkheimer shows is that there is no neat division between thought and reality
that can justify the privileged position of the theorist in the social division of
labour: our thoughts are part of reality, as real as the city you live in or the job
you work at and they must be analysed as part of the general social division of
labour and of social reproduction.
Thus the problem-solving theorist becomes a functionary in the maintenance of
social order. The critical theorist must understand the role of theory in social
reproduction in order to break down the divisions between theoretical reflection
and the making of the world.

I am not suggesting that Horkheimer was right where Cox was wrong. Cox was
certainly aware of the – explicit or implicit – political commitments of the theorist
when he said, “theory is always for someone and for some purpose”. The
question for me here is whether our common-sense taxonomy of International
Relations theory as “problem-solving” or “critical” remains appropriate. Given how
embedded it is in our ways of seeing ourselves and our field, and given that it
can be quite useful for teaching theory, I don’t think it should necessarily be
abandoned. Given the implicit, instinctual way IR theorists tend to treat the
division as a contest, as in Chris Brown for whom problem-solving has produced
better results than critical theory, I wonder if it would not be better to try to make
the political stakes of that contest more evident.

For me, reading Cox with Horkheimer provides an interesting start on this task.
The description of the first category as “problem-solving” or “traditional” points to
a theoretical practice where expertise rules, where specialists take up their
specific tasks and succeed or fail on the basis of how powerful their explanations
are and the impact of their work. Cox and Horkheimer both acknowledge the
importance of this approach in terms of method and results. And they both hint at
the cost: politically, we might better describe this approach as technocratic
theory. The enterprise is to uncover the timeless essences of things and relations
and to keep things working by keeping them in their place.

The contrasting approach to theory, which Cox and Horkheimer both dub “critical
theory”, seeks instead to enable the transformation of things. But critical theory is
more than this, too; after all, as social constructivism suggests, the
transformation of things is just the normal state of affairs as people make
themselves and make their history. Critical theory does more: it disagrees.
As Rancière suggests, it disrupts the order of the “distribution of the sensible.”
Critical theory works by making visible the relationships and the things that
International Relations refuses to recognise and qualify as relationships or things.
It makes audible the voices of people not qualified to speak in International
Relations. Against the technocratic barriers to international living and
understandings, critical theory identifies the arbitrariness and artificiality of
barriers and explains them in relation to their roles in the division of labour, social
reproduction, or system maintenance. Politically, critical theory must
be democratic theory – not a theory of democracy, posed externally to its object,
but a theory that is democratic in its everyday practices. These are the political
stakes in our theoretical choices.