Our officials, so far as I know them, and I know only the lowest grades
among them, never go hunting for crime in the populace, but, as the law
decrees, are drawn towards the guilty and must then send out us warders. That
is the Law. How could there be a mistake in that? I dont know this Law,
said K. (1999a [1925]: 12)
Barthes (2009 [1957]) described such a view of society, where social rules that are
contingent upon history and culture are understood by those who apply them as being
universal, natural laws, as the mythology of social conventions.
While Kafka seems to be writing about a peculiarly modern, bureaucratic conception
of the law, we can find related issues raised by the ancients; take for instance the
following description of the operation of the law in Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics:
all law is universal, and there are some things about which it is not possible to
pronounce rightly in general terms; therefore in cases where it is necessary to
make a general pronouncement, but impossible to do so rightly, the law takes
account of the majority of cases, though not unaware that in this way errors
are made. And the law is none the less right; because the error lies not in the
law nor in the legislator, but in the nature of the case; for the raw material of
human behaviour is essentially of this kind. (Aristotle, 1976: 199)
As in Kafka, we hear the assertion that if there is such a thing as error it cannot be
found in the law itself, which is universal and, one might add, infallible. Like Kafka,
Aristotle asserts that error exists only in reality, in the nature of the case, and not in
the law. Kafka exaggerates this elementary problematic, so that the case is not only
the source of error, but becomes identical with it. This is not merely a literary device
but springs from the fact that the Court derives its authority from the law, and to the
extent that it identifies with the law, it can admit to no error (4). We are confronted
with such situations throughout the texts of Kafkas novels. Consider, for instance, the
following example from The Castle, where the storys protagonist, K., asks the
Superintendent of the Castle whether a mistake might not have been made:
Only a stranger could ask a question like yours. Is there a Control Authority?
There are only control authorities. Frankly, it isnt their function to hunt out
errors in the vulgar sense, for errors dont happen, and even when once in a
while an error does happen, as in your case, who can say finally that its an
error? (Kafka, 2000 [1915]: 6667)
In this story, as in many of Kafkas tales, it is difficult for the protagonist to discover
whether or not he is the victim of an error, not least because the formal rules of the
organization appear to be impenetrable. The authorities are unwilling to reveal the
rules, even in the case of a supposed violation, and it is not clear whether they really
know them. A key element of Kafkas counter-mythologies is that the rules are them-
selves often unclear and ambiguous, exacerbating problems relating to their
interpretation. In The Castle it takes a long time for K. to even begin to grasp the
various organizing principles of the castle, some of which are formal and others rather
informal relating to the villagers everyday dealings with the castle. Likewise in the
novel Amerika, Karl begins to appreciate a whole world of informal rules that may be
subject to sanction, where he reflects that, [t]here was probably no actual rule . . . but
that was only because the unimaginable was not expressly forbidden (Kafka, 2007
[1996]: 114). A key mechanism that facilitates the operation of formal systems of
organization within his stories is the role of informal networks of communication. For
instance, in The Trial the Defence is not even a part of the formal legal system: the
Defence was not actually countenanced by the Law, but only tolerated . . . Strictly
speaking, therefore, none of the Advocates was recognized by the Court (1999a
[1925]: 128). If you wanted a defence at all, then you must by necessity appeal to
informal means to obtain it. Kafkas protagonists are often confronted with formal
systems of organization that are realized only by means of an evasive, sometimes
imaginary informal system that functions through a widespread complicity. Another
example of the crucial role of informal systems of organization is the social exclusion
of Amelia and her family in The Castle. After declining a sexual offer by the official
Sortini, the townsfolk push her familys business into bankruptcy, her father towards
insanity, and they stigmatize her and her family in fear of retribution by the officials
of the castle. However, no official or unofficial attempts to exact punishment are made
by the members of the castle, casting doubt over whether there is any genuine reason
for the villagers anxiety beyond their own paranoia.
Organization theory comes closest to mythology when dealing with this relationship
between the informal and formal dimension of organization. The way in which rules
become distorted in practice has been the subject of some of the earliest research
within organization theory into the latent functions of rules and other bureaucratic
dysfunctions (Gouldner, 1954; Merton, 1957). The informal system appears to be
necessary for the functioning of the formal one (Blau and Scott, 1962), but at the
same time, it has a distorting effect upon this system. In Kafkas stories, the formal
and informal systems of organization are very closely interwoven to the extent that
they take on absurd and oppressive characteristics far from their ostensible goals. For
instance, in The Trial, Josef K. comes to understand that there is nothing outside of
the trial, which appears to be omnipresent, extending throughout all aspects of social
life. As we shall see in the analysis that follows, Kafkas work embodies a mythology
in which the forces of organization confront us as if they were inescapable laws of
nature, as compared with the reality of our own circumstances, which appear as little
more than sources of confusion or, as Aristotle would have it, error.
One of the few uses of Kafkas work within the field of organization studies has
focused on the pitfalls of communication by drawing upon his reworking of the myth
of the Tower of Babel (Kornberger et al., 2006) but has taken quite a different
approach from the one that we have outlined here. The interpretation offered by
Kornberger et al. highlights the Babylonian confusion, which they suggest provides a
rich fictional characterization of the modern world. However, they offer a far more
optimistic way out of this problem than does Kafka, recommending that translation
can be used to over- come the polyphony of voices inherent in interpersonal
communication. We would argue that while this is a fruitful exploration of Kafkas
work for organization studies, it mistakes Kafkas formulation of the problem for its
solution. Czarniawska (1999) has also explored the issue of polyphony in the myth of
the Tower of Babel, but without reference to Kafkas own variant story. Her approach
identifies exactly the kind of problems of translation highlighted here, but she does
not propose translation as a solution, presenting it in more ambivalent terms as an
uneasy task that organization scholars must address. Following Adornos
interpretation of the story, we suggest that the interpretation offered by Kornberger et
al. relies for its efficacy upon the existence of an unbroken language that can be
employed for the purposes of a successful translation. Otherwise, what would be the
point of translating from one language into another, where misunderstandings persist
and proliferate with each attempted translation. If we were to attempt such a thing,
we would be living in precisely the same world that is portrayed by Kafka, where
polyphony is essential rather than incidental and where misinterpretation is inevitable.
In certain respects Weick et al. (2005: 413) have defined the role of sensemaking in
very Kafkaesque terms, highlighting its genesis in disruptive ambiguity. Many of
Weicks stories contain incidents where sensemaking begins as a result of a
breakdown of normal routines, after which misunderstandings begin to proliferate, for
instance, in the use of the ambiguous phrase we are now at takeoff by the pilot at a
crucial point in the Tenerife air disaster (Weick, 1990), or in the misperception of the
course of the fire in the Mann Gulch disaster (Weick, 1993). The limitations of
sensemaking are further reinforced by the fact that, [p]eople may get better stories,
but they will never get the story (Weick et al., 2005: 415). Thus, Weick suggests that
the best that people can strive for in the stories they tell is plausibility rather than
any accuracy. We would agree with Weicks cautious evaluation of the limitations of
sensemaking but with the additional proviso that sensemaking is understood primarily
as a problematic rather than necessarily moving towards a solution. Weick has himself
been criticized for his ambigu- ous usage of the term sensemaking, where
sensemaking plays seemingly contradictory roles in the evolution of organizational
crises (Maitlis and Sonenschein, 2010: 565). Weick has analysed numerous cases
where the processes of sensemaking reinforced the poor decision making of people
confronted with exceptional events (Weick, 1990, 1993; Weick and Sutcliffe, 2003).
In the Mann Gulch case he argues that, [w]hen meaning becomes problematic and
decreases, this is a signal for those people to pay more attention to their formal and
informal social ties and to reaffirm and/or reconstruct them (1993: 646). Weick takes
the view that a sudden loss of structure can lead to a loss of meaning and should thus
prompt a re-evaluation of the situation and an affirmation of the need for more
(perhaps different) structure. While this is an insightful observation regarding the
psychology of problem solving, Kafka takes a rather different view. For him, structure
is not necessarily the solution to a situation and, in contrast to Weicks stories, his
tales show how the search for structure can itself lead to an ever increasing sense of
meaninglessness. Kafkas stories contain a polyphony of voices, in which the loss of
meaning appears to be intimately linked to the proliferation of meanings as these
stories progress (5). For Kafka, the desire for meaning and structure is not a solution
to such problems, but is a part of their very constitution.