Listen to Jon Wynn discuss how he “tweaked the formula” for engaging different audiences by writing fiction inspired by and using sociology and social theory via this “Give Theory a Chance” podcast!

As a part of our Teaching Theory Special Series, First Publics invited Drs. Wesley Longhofer and Daniel Winchester, authors of Social Theory Re-Wired, to talk about their goals for and experiences with writing their theory reader. Drs. Longhofer and Winchester discussed the origins and inspiration for the book, and their dedication to empowering students and providing instructors with a set of tools to build a theory course that excites both them and their students.

First Publics: Tell us about the origin of this book. What inspired you to write it together?

Wesley Longhofer: Dan and I both went to graduate school at the University of Minnesota, and one of the things I really cherished about our program was the opportunity many of us had to teach. And my first course was a required social theory class for sociology majors held on Thursday nights. Not surprisingly, I thought, “Well, great, nobody’s going to want to be here.” In the class, I had nontraditional learners, new Americans who had just immigrated from Liberia, musicians in some really successful rock bands, and some really sharp students who wanted to go to graduate school. Then I had a lot of students who were like, “I just have to get through this.” And social theory was not a class known for being very approachable or accessible. So I taught it in a way that I consumed it and learned it, which meant that I drew from a lot of media and music. We would discuss Weber’s ideal types of social action using characters from “Do the Right Thing,” we would listen to Radiohead when we talked about Weber and the iron cage and The Coup when we talked about Marx –  all as a way to make the text itself more approachable. 

Then I was asked to teach an online version of it asynchronously (this was before we all became accustomed to classes on Zoom). This was around the time when Contexts came to the University of Minnesota, and Chris Uggen and Doug Hartman were the editors. I was on the graduate board and later became the graduate editor. And Contexts really taught me how to how write for a general audience. And so that’s how I wrote that online content. I took all of my lecture notes, including the film clips, song lyrics, and other media, and turned in into a text. Doug then encouraged me to turn the online content into a book and introduced me to an editor at Routledge. But after I wrote the proposal for the book, I took a job in a business school and knew I wasn’t going to be teaching social theory anytime soon. So I brought Dan on and said, “Hey, Dan, why don’t we write this together? You think about theory deeply. You’re also an incredible teacher, and you might be teaching theory in the future. Why don’t we just collaborate?”  It was serendipitous, though. Had I not taught an asynchronous online class, I wouldn’t have had the building blocks, and had Contexts not been in Minnesota, I wouldn’t have had the connection with the publisher. And so it was those two things that made it possible. Then the shape that it took really was through the collaboration.

FP: Can you talk a little bit about your choice to frame the textbook using language of technology (e.g., social theory “rewired,” system updates, etc.)? How does this framing align or contribute to your vision of making social theory more understandable to today?

Daniel Winchester: One of the things that Wes and I learned early on working with Routledge is that you have to have a justification or vision for why there needs to be yet another social theory reader on the market. There are already many out there, many of them quite good. But when Wes and I were talking about the type of undergrad theory course that we wanted to teach or would want to take, we talked a lot about making it more of a conversation about big ideas. So, that’s when this idea of the thematic structure of the book came along. The book is organized into five major themes that we argue social theorists have been discussing since the discipline began, even before the discipline began, before there was a thing called sociology. And so when we were thinking about that, we were thinking about restructuring the basic outline of a theory class. But, we also quickly realized that a lot of our primary examples, especially connecting to the present day, were about technology and how central technological change is to issues of social order, capitalism, inequality, identity, and surveillance. Technology and technological change have been a huge focus of many social theorists. Of course, social theorists today, like Ruha Benjamin, are looking at the development of AI technology. But even going back to Marx, who had a lot to say about industrialization and rapid technological change, not just for capitalist production, but even for what he thought was going to be this post-scarcity society of Communism. Max Weber, who started this conversation about how technology supercharged our society’s penchant for focusing on instrumental concerns, instrumental rationality, sometimes over more value-rational concerns. And so in some ways, technology, we realized, was an evergreen topic for thinking and theorizing about society. So, it coalesced into technology being the organizing theme for the entire product.

WL:  We also started this project in 2009-2010, about five years after Facebook was formed but right when it was taking off. The early days of social media were a massive experiment in impression management – how do we represent the self in these technological environments? It opened up all these other conversations, too, that have also been foundational in social theory. The questions that we were asking at the time were whether technology was pulling us apart or bringing us closer together. That’s a Durkheim kind of question. So we had the title in our heads, and then I thought maybe the cover should look like a network map or a circuit board where we could illustrate all of these connections across contemporary and classical.

FP: There has been an ongoing discussion among sociologists regarding who and what theories we should highlight in social theory courses. For instance, the inspiration for First Publics, builds on the work of Michael Burawoy, who taught social theory himself and wrote on teaching living theory. In his work, he suggests that sociology is unique in its attachment to the sociological “canon” which can make teaching theory difficult, but not if we treat theory as a language and put theorists in conversation with each other. What guided your decisions in selecting contemporary extensions, as well as the contributors for system updates in each chapter?

WL: Choices have to be made, and our own biases go into making those choices. We gravitate towards things that we like (which is maybe why there’s not a lot of Talcott Parsons in there). So, a few things helped guide our decisions in the most recent edition. First was what we were hearing from instructors. It’s a book that is assigned in classes. These are the instructors who are in the trenches teaching social theory. So, what are they teaching and what do they want more of? Second was the conversations the discipline was having. What is the value of a canon? Does it box us in? Does it limit innovation? Who is being excluded? Finally, social theory has always been a response to the times, and so calls for racial justice, the pandemic, the climate crisis – these were all pushing us to ask different kinds of questions and dig deeper into theory. So, we heard that we needed more post-colonial theory, more on race and inequality, so we added Cedric Robinson. We needed more on technology, so we brought in Ruha Benjamin and Shoshana Zuboff. 

DW: We start each of the sections with what is generally thought of as a key classical theorist. A member of the so-called canon, whether that’s Durkheim for the section on social order, or Marx and Engels on the social consequences of capitalism, or Weber on the potential dark sides of modern life. But I think there are absolutely legitimate criticisms of canonizing particular social theorists. Wes and I agreed to move away from that. But, what we thought, and I still very much think this after teaching undergrad social theory now for a dozen years or so, is that there is something illuminating about being able to show students that a person who wrote 150 years ago was writing and concerned about many of the same things that they are right now. Sometimes, you have to do some work to show them that’s the case, but part of what starting with a classical theorist does is make students realize that sociology is a relevant and long conversation about issues that don’t go away, that these are things that we’re still grappling with today. It also allows students to see that these “canonical” figures had limitations and sometimes outright biases and prejudices in their way of thinking, but at the same time, they also had incredibly insightful things to say. I think being able to demonstrate those connections and the historical length of these conversations about issues of social order, about capitalism, about power, is really interesting and fun.

WL: I think part of it is that we teach theory in the way that we were taught theory. So, that becomes reified over time. It takes a long time to undo and to change that. We designed the book in the spirit of Burawoy to say that these theorists are responding to conversations of prior theorists, and let’s focus on the conversations that are both looking into the past, but also into the future. We have an alternative table of contents that if you’re really wedded to the traditional way of teaching theory and you really like the canon. It’s all there. But we want to think about it as more evergreen conversations that theorists have been having. 

FP: What are your hopes for how the textbook is used in a social theory course by instructors and by students? 

DW: I would say one of the things I hope all instructors and students are able to get from this book is the ability to have conversations. Reading a lot of theoretical work and social theory is just hard. But, I hope that in the process, as instructors are breaking down the difficult material with their students and with the book, it leads to a place where students really start to be engaged in conversations about these big ideas. So it becomes less about knowing the details of Marx’s or Foucault’s theoretical apparatus, than it is about seeing that this person has a really interesting idea about how market crashes occur, or how social disorder and disintegration happen, and that can be a point where everybody can have a chance to be a part of the conversation. Sometimes students are tired, sometimes instructors are tired, but I do hope that there are those moments where you just have these really insightful and exciting conversations about a topic that happens to be central to sociological theory. 

FP: Some sociologists express that the connection between theory courses and public sociology is not as intuitive as other courses in sociology, especially for students. In what ways do you think your textbook encourages students and instructors to make this connection?  

WL: In writing the book, we wanted students to understand that people think in theories all the time. We may not use that language, but we all have explanations for the way the world works that are informed by our prior experiences and observations. But too often, we think that theory must only come from the academy.  Ali Meghji has this great Sociological Theory piece from last year that argues Burawoy’s idea of public sociology was perhaps too one-directional, that it was more about getting sociology out and less about getting the public in. Meghji draws upon, for example, the Zapatista movement in Chiapas, which had a pretty serious theory of neoliberalism that talked about financial markets, colonialism, and the military to explain subjugation and oppression. That’s social theory, too, in that it is a framework that draws upon lived experience to help explain a problem. So, I think if we were to redo the book again, we might want to think about some texts that don’t come from the academy that might help us get at these same kinds of questions from a different perspective. 

DW:  The way that we tried to design the book and the website was to encourage bringing people into the conversation, to, in some ways, decenter theory as this mystified conversation or rarified set of skills. As Wes said, everyone thinks theoretically about the world around them. It’s just a matter of how we build the skills and critical capacities to get people to do that better, to do it more reflectively, to do it more critically. When reading someone like Bourdieu or Dorothy Smith or Patricia Collins, we want students to see that person thinks theoretically like them, but at a level that’s really sophisticated. We think that it can get students excited about merging their own thoughts on the issue and putting them into conversation with these theorists. I think that what we’ve tried to do with this book, and what I think I try to do in most of my undergrad theory courses, is make it like you’re a part of this conversation as much as Pierre Bourdieu. 

WL: It’s also important to remind ourselves that a lot of the early theorists were public sociologists, Du Bois being probably the most prominent one. But Marx wrote that philosophers explain the world, but the point is to change it – we have got to move from the abstract to the practical. That was a public sociology kind of statement. So, this idea that theory is relevant for the public is not new. It’s actually a very old idea. 

FP: Is there anything else about the book that we haven’t asked you that you’d like to say?

WL: It’s a reader – a lot of its weight, both literally and figuratively, is just original texts. And I think this is a challenge for many instructors. How can we help students read original theory when we are constantly told that students don’t read anymore?  And we get that some instructors may not think their students need to read 20 pages of Distinction. But we also know that most instructors love reading theory and want their students to fall in love with it, too.

DW: I agree with that. Part of what makes us “old school” is that we both have a commitment to reading, and that part of what a theory course teaches you to do is to read hard things. I think students can actually take pride in that. By the end of a theory course, students can take pride in the fact that they have a working understanding and knowledge of some pretty heavy ideas that have been really influential and consequential for the development of entire societies. I mean, everybody talks about Marx all the time, but I doubt many of the people who talk about Marx and Marxism have read him. But our theory students do, so they’ll have informed ideas, criticisms, etc., from that process.

Wesley Longhofer is an associate professor of organization and management in the Goizueta Business School at Emory University. His research interests include organizations, climate change, and human rights. He currently serves as the Senior Director of Emory’s Center for Faculty Development and Excellence and Assistant Vice Provost for Faculty Affairs.

Daniel Winchester is an associate professor of sociology at Purdue University. His research examines how cultural practices shape human experience and action, with a particular focus on the study of religion. He has conducted ethnographic studies of conversions to Islam and Eastern Orthodox Christianity, respectively, and is currently writing a book analyzing how Evangelical missionary organizations produce particular understandings and experiences of “the global”. In addition to Social Theory Re-Wired, he has published theoretical work in journals like Social Forces, Sociological Theory, Theory & Society, Sociology of Religion, and Journal for the Scientific Study, among others.

If your looking for books to assign that address social and public issues and have accompanying multimedia content: check out “The Authors’ Attic” interview series by Social Problems on YouTube.

What advice would you give sociology teachers? Join the conversation with sociology graduate students who answered the question in this recent Teaching Sociology article by Sanchez and Gilbertson.

Answer the question: “why are sociologists underrepresented in the world of public policy?” with Josh McCabe in his recent ASA Footnote.

“If we truly believe sociology is a valuable tool for making sense of the world, then we should trust that it can thrive beyond traditional academic spaces.” See the full blog post on sociology major career paths by Yolanda Wiggins via Contexts.

Teaching theory next semester? Check out this Teaching Sociology piece by Dromi and Stabler on an exercise that “aims to facilitate a deeper appreciation of the relationship between sociological theorizing and the pursuit of the common good.”

When I first stepped into my high school classroom as a marketing teacher, it felt like an ironic turn. I had spent my early university years studying business administration, only to leave it behind for sociology—a discipline that offered a critical lens on the very world I had once aspired to join. The corporate sphere, with its relentless pursuit of profit and efficiency, had lost its appeal. Sociology, with its ability to interrogate power structures, social relations, and cultural dynamics, provided a far more compelling framework for understanding the world.

Yet here I was, back in business—teaching marketing, no less. But from the outset, I saw my role not as training the next generation of marketers but as equipping students with the tools to see through the industry’s illusions. I make it clear to my students early on that I am trained as a sociologist, and that I approach marketing not just as a business function, but as a social institution embedded in systems of power, identity and inequality.

Marketing, at its core, is about social engineering. It is the study of how people make choices, how messages shape behavior, and how identities are constructed and commodified. In other words, it is applied sociology. Traditional marketing education frames this as a neutral or even benevolent process—companies merely responding to consumer needs, creating value, and driving innovation. But as a sociologist, I teach my students to ask: Who defines those needs? Who benefits from this system? And at what cost?

One of the first things I did was integrate concepts from sociology into my lessons. When discussing segmentation and targeting, we explored class, race, and gender—how marketers don’t just respond to social divisions but actively reinforce them. When covering branding, we examined how corporations appropriate social movements and identities, turning resistance into marketable aesthetics. And when looking at consumer psychology, we interrogated the ideological assumptions embedded in marketing discourse—assumptions about rational choice, individualism, and happiness as consumption.

Students were quick to pick up on the implications. A lesson on advertising techniques led to discussions about the social construction of beauty. A case study on influencer marketing turned into a debate about authenticity and self-branding in the age of social media. Even the driest topics—like pricing strategies—became a launching point for talking about precarity, monopoly power, and the financialization of everyday life.

Rather than training students to be better marketers, I encourage them to be skeptical ones. If marketing is, as its practitioners claim, about storytelling, then students should learn to interrogate whose stories are being told—and whose are being erased. If marketing is about persuasion, they should understand not just how it works, but to what ends it is used. And if marketing is about creating consumer demand, they should ask whether the world truly needs more demand—or if it needs a different way of thinking about economic and social relations altogether.

This approach does not mean rejecting marketing outright. Teaching marketing is not the same as teaching students to be marketers. There is no necessary connection between explaining the existence, origins, and function of something and endorsing it. This distinction is obvious in many other fields—a history teacher explaining the causes of Hitler’s rise does not imply moral approval. Why should marketing education be any different? If anything, the best way to teach it is by subjecting it to the same scrutiny as any other social institution. Through the lens of sociology, students can see marketing not as a neutral tool, but as a force that both shapes and is shaped by the economic and cultural structures in which it operates.

The initial reactions from students to my approach have varied, but most are receptive. Some express surprise at how marketing can be analyzed in this way, but many are relieved to discover a framework that gives them language for their discomfort with certain industry practices. A few are skeptical at first, especially those expecting a more traditional or career-focused marketing curriculum. But over time, they often come to value the critical tools the sociological approach provides, particularly as they navigate the contradictions of branding in an era of media saturation and economic precarity. 

By teaching marketing as sociology, I am not simply preparing students to navigate the business world; I am preparing them to critically engage with it. In an era when branding permeates politics, social movements are commodified, and consumer culture shapes personal identity, critical marketing literacy becomes more than a professional skill—it is a form of resistance and a means of reimagining the social world. I cannot predict how this approach will influence students’ career paths. Some may go on to work in business with a sharper critical edge; others may reconsider their aspirations altogether. But my aim is not to moralize or prescribe a particular direction. It is to foster a capacity for critical reflection, so that whatever paths students choose, they do so with greater awareness of the structures they operate within—and the potential they hold to change them.

Sam Chian teaches marketing and social studies at an upper secondary school in Oslo, Norway. He holds a master’s degree in sociology from the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU). His research has appeared in outlets such as Review of African Political Economy and Journal of the History of Ideas Blog.

In the Fall of 2024, I attempted to give students a “research day.” assuming they would appreciate the extra time to work independently. My goal was to provide enough time for them to dive deeper into their individual research projects. However, instead of relief, my announcement was met with awkward hesitation. One student quipped, “Can we still come to class if we want to?” Another added, “Yeah, this one of the few places where I actually get to talk to people. I’d still like to meet.” I was surprised and humbled by their reaction. I was also reminded that for many of these students, the classroom had become a place of connection and community.

Consequently, I quickly adjusted the plan and turned the day into an informal working session. Students were invited into the classroom to brainstorm research ideas, ask questions, and collaborate in a low-pressure environment. The result was one of the most fulfilling sessions of the semester. Students worked in small groups and seemed energized by simply being together. That day reinforced for me that teaching isn’t just about imparting knowledge, but also about creating a space where students feel grounded, supported, and part of something larger than themselves. In a society that is increasingly defined by isolation, the classroom remains a vital place for human connection.

As the digital world and online communication replaces in-person interactions, people are looking for real-world connections. However, many of us just do not have the time. Many of my students must manage their studies while also navigating work and family responsibilities. There is little time left for organic social interactions. The classroom offers one of the few real-world, tangible spaces where they can engage in meaningful discussions, collaborate, and build relationships with others. 

To support this, I integrate small group discussions into nearly every class session. After a lecture, I divide students into groups to discuss key concepts, share their perspectives, and ask questions they might not feel comfortable posing in front of the whole class. For example, following a lecture on the Battle of Wounded Knee, students discuss how the historical events and their implications reflect in contemporary Native American communities. Similarly, after discussing the Haymarket Riot, students discussed how labor movements shaped worker rights today and how the riot and its aftermath influenced public perceptions of immigration and activism. These discussions are meant to clarify concepts, reinforce course material, and help students form connections with each other.

In addition to small-group discussions, I incorporate a collaborative group project at the end of the semester, which I call the “Creative Project.” Students form groups of 3 to 5 and decide how they want to approach the project. As the name suggests, they have a broad range of options to choose from. They can select a traditional research presentation, a film screening/discussion, a podcast, a documentary, a long-form social media post, a workshop, a multi-page blog, or any original project they design. This format has offered me valuable learning experiences as well. For instance, one semester, a group of athletes produced a short documentary that explored the history of racial dynamics in our university’s sports program. In another semester, a group of students, children of Cambodian immigrants, created a project about the Khmer Rouge and how it impacted their families’ immigration stories. This gave the class a deeply personal perspective on the historical trauma of war and migration. 

I have discussed how to foster connection between students, but how do I maintain connection as an instructor? I believe that clear and intentional communication is key to maintaining a connected classroom environment. In my in-person courses, I start each session with “Reminders.” I aim to summarize essential tasks, deadlines, and the upcoming agenda. The goal is to help students stay organized and to ensure they feel encouraged and supported – while also making them aware of important upcoming dates.

I also make it a priority to provide students with personalized feedback on their assignments.  Yes, it can be time-consuming. Fortunately, I have been able to work with a graduate student who understands my goals while helping me with grading. Students should feel the instructor has thoughtfully engaged with their work. In my experience, when students feel seen -through the curtains of routine, formality, and technology that dominate the academic space- they are motivated and inspired to produce more meaningful, higher quality work. 

As we move forward, we should ensure that the sociological classroom is more than a space for academic learning – it is a sanctuary. The simple act of showing up, having important conversations on course content, while creating opportunities for connection can have a profound impact.

That “research day” I tried to cancel? It taught me that fostering a sense of belonging can be just as important as covering course material. My students reminded me that sometimes, just being present is enough to create a meaningful learning experience. Those students turned out some phenomenal papers—not just because they had the extra time to research, but because they felt supported, connected, and part of something bigger than themselves.

JoAnna Boudreaux is an Assistant Professor of Teaching in the Department of Sociology at the University of Memphis. She also serves as the coordinator of the internship program. Her pedagogical approach is centered on creating a collaborative learning environment and exploring innovative teaching methods, including the integration of AI tools. She teaches courses such as Marriage and Family, Gender and Society, Medical Sociology, and Racial and Ethnic Minorities. 

In his 2004 presidential address to the American Sociological Association, Michael Burawoy called on professional sociologists to recognize that, “as teachers, we are all potentially public sociologists.” Doing public sociology, he argued, entails engaging our students in collaborative dialogues about their lived experiences, the conditions that give rise to those experiences, and what all that says about the nature of (U.S.) society. 

Burawoy’s call to teaching as public sociology is imperative as a means for addressing the recurrent tension between political engagement and political apathy among young people today. For almost a decade, we have seen expanding waves of youth protest and direct-action led, in notable instances, by students.  But at the same time, we see exhaustion and apathy. Youth activists report high rates of burnout, and young people in general are less likely to engage in electoral politics than their older counterparts. 

Research suggests that lower rates of political participation (among young people and others) can be linked to low feelings of political efficacy – a belief that one’s voice or vote or actions do not matter. To me, one call of teaching as public sociology is to address feelings of political inefficacy by modeling the problem-solving potential of sociological inquiry in the classroom. In my courses, I endeavor to do this by repeatedly returning to three questions: How did things come to be this way? How can we imagine them to be different? How can we get there? These are questions we can ask of any social arrangement.  Returning to the question of political apathy: how did we get to a place where so many feel that neither major political party represents their needs and desires? What would real representation look like? What steps can we take to build a political system where more people feel included, represented, and engaged? Teaching as public sociology means asking these big questions and then walking alongside students as they develop their own answers.

Allowing students to develop their own answers entails prompting them to take on the work of problem-solving and organizing themselves.  In my political sociology course, for example, students engage the issue of political apathy and disengagement by designing their own get-out-the-vote campaigns. Working at a rural-serving institution with a large working-class and first generation student population, many of my students are intimately familiar with the resource and educational disparities that researchers emphasize to explain inequalities in political participation. As a result, their plans often focus on addressing these underlying disparities. For instance, students in my fall 2024 course proposed partnering with local nonprofits and businesses to sponsor a “resource day” where students and residents can get a free meal, pick up food staples and personal care necessities, and learn about services in the community. Students suggested there could also be a booth where attendees could register to vote and learn about upcoming election dates and polling locations. Others proposed new civics education programming in area schools, programming they did not have access to.  After working in groups, students present their plans to their peers, and we discuss the merits and viability of each plan based on existing research.

We conclude the sequence by comparing students’ campaigns to those of the two major political parties in the most recent election. This concluding conversation opens a space for students to explore possible explanations for why nearly one-in-four voting age adults feel neither party represents them well. Reflecting on this question, many students emphasize a lack of political organizing in rural communities, an absence of meaningful civics education, and the disconnection they feel between partisan platforms and the needs and desires of their communities.  Thus, students engage broad questions of political apathy and political disengagement, but they do so in a way that centers their own problem-solving capabilities and invites them to creatively reimagine what is politically possible. My hope is that, by engaging in this conversation, students recognize their capacity to affect social change and address the issues they care about. I am writing this not long after learning of Michael Burawoy’s tragic death on the evening of February 4^th 2025. Reflecting on his legacy, it seems that the stakes of taking up his call for teaching as public sociology have perhaps never been higher, at least not in my lifetime. Flurries of executive orders and memos are testing the bounds of executive authority while fueling confusion and overwhelm in their wake. Efforts to erase transgender and nonbinary persons from public life are rapidly advancing, as are efforts to delegitimate and roll back diversity and inclusion in education, employment, and public service. Immigrant communities report fear to attend work, school, or religious gatherings as deportation operations accelerate. I don’t think it is my job as an instructor to tell my students what to think about these developments or what to do about them. But I do believe it is my responsibility – all of our responsibility – to help them find the curiosity, critical-mindedness, and courage to forge their own answers.

Dr. Johnnie Lotesta is Assistant Professor of Sociology at Appalachian State University. She is a political, comparative-historical, and cultural sociologist specializing in political parties, labor and social movements, and American political development. Her research has appeared in outlets such as Research in Political Sociology, American Journal of Cultural Sociology, and Journal of Community Psychology. Dr. Lotesta teaches courses in political sociology, social movements, and stratification, as well as introductory sociology.