Ah, the classic question: how many sociologists does it take to change a light bulb? Of course, before we can answer that, we first need to tackle the more fundamental issue: what even is a light bulb? And, more importantly, how do we know it’s a light bulb at all?
Stage 1: Ontological Anguish
Before anyone can actually change the bulb, the group must first reach a consensus on what a light bulb truly is. Is it merely a glass orb filled with tungsten and gas, or is it a symbol of enlightenment – a fragile beacon of modernity trembling in the face of post-industrial darkness? Perhaps, as the phenomenologists among them might argue, the light bulb only becomes a light bulb when it is perceived as such within the context of human experience.
Meanwhile, the Marxist at the back insists that the light bulb is simply the physical embodiment of alienated labour – a commodity produced under oppressive conditions and sold for profit in a world where darkness is socially constructed as ‘undesirable’ for the benefit of capital.
Stage 2: Epistemology Strikes Back
Next, they must confront the epistemological conundrum: how do we even know the light bulb is out? Are we relying on subjective, anecdotal reports, or do we have empirical evidence – a peer-reviewed observation of its dimness, perhaps? The post-positivists among them propose a rigorous, double-blind study, while the postmodernists argue that the very notion of ‘light’ and ‘dark’ is a discursive power structure that privileges those with functioning retinas.
Somewhere in the corner, a constructivist is arguing that the darkness might not even be real but rather a socially mediated construct shaped by our shared linguistic frameworks. This leads to a heated debate about whether light is an essential property of the bulb or merely an emergent property of our capitalist need for 24/7 productivity.
Stage 3: Reflexivity (or, How to Make the Light Bulb About You)
At this point, the sociologists pause for a moment of reflexivity. Can they ethically change the light bulb without first examining their own biases? What assumptions are they bringing to this task? Are they perhaps imposing their Western, electricity-dependent worldview on a light bulb that never asked to be ‘on’ in the first place? The critical theorist points out that even the act of flipping a switch is a form of symbolic violence, reinforcing the dominant paradigm of ‘light’ as inherently good and ‘dark’ as a problem to be solved.
Stage 4: Publish or Perish (or, the Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul)
Having debated the light bulb’s ontological status into the ground, the group decides to pivot towards something they can actually publish. Research grants are written up for projects like “The Liminal Spaces of Luminosity: Power, Privilege, and the Illusion of Electrical Freedom” and “When Brightness Becomes Oppression: A Critical Ethnography of Domestic Lighting Practices.”
One particularly ambitious junior lecturer proposes a posthumanist take – “Rethinking the Light Bulb: Interspecies Ethics and the Photonic Rights of Inanimate Objects” – which immediately attracts the attention of a funding body keen to tick the ‘impactful and innovative’ box.
They then spend the next three years turning these grand ideas into densely worded journal articles that will be read by approximately seven people, five of whom are the authors themselves, and one of whom will use it as a teaching aid in a third-year sociology seminar.
Stage 5: Practical Realities (or, Why the Room is Still Dark)
Eventually, someone suggests they should just call maintenance, but this is quickly dismissed as ‘problematic outsourcing of labour’ that fails to address the systemic issues underpinning the entire light bulb industry. Another suggests crowd-sourcing the light bulb’s replacement, but this sparks a furious debate about the ethics of unpaid emotional labour.
By this point, the bulb itself has become a minor academic celebrity, with a dedicated Twitter account and several hundred followers tweeting about the ‘lived experience’ of darkness. Someone even creates a TikTok series – “A Day in the Dark: The Struggle of the Unlit Bulb” – which briefly trends in niche academic circles.
Stage 6: Did the Light Bulb Ever Get Changed?
And so, after all this theorising, funding, and reflexivity, we arrive at the ultimate question: did the light bulb ever actually get changed? The sociologists stare at each other, unsure if this was ever really the point. After all, is the goal of sociology to change the world, or merely to understand it?
In the end, a philosopher who just happened to be passing through the faculty corridor wanders in, flips the switch, and realises it was just a fuse. The sociologists immediately add him as a co-author.
Next week: why did the sociologist chicken cross the road… or maybe not.
AJ Wright is a quiet yet incisive voice navigating the surreal world of sociology, higher education, and modern life through the unique lens of a neurodivergent mind. A tech-savvy PhD student hailing from South Yorkshire but now stationed in the flatlands of Lincolnshire, AJ writes with an irreverence that strips back the layers of academia, social norms, and the absurdities of daily life to reveal the humour lurking beneath.
As an autistic thinker, AJ’s perspective offers readers a rare blend of precision, curiosity, and wit. From dissecting the unspoken rituals of academia—like the silent war over the office thermostat—to exploring the sociology of “neurotypical small talk” and the bizarre hierarchies of campus coffee queues, AJ turns the ordinary into something both profound and hilarious.
AJ’s unassuming nature belies the sharpness of their commentary, which dives deep into the intersections of neurodiversity, tech culture, and the often-overlooked quirks of human behaviour. Whether questioning why university bureaucracy feels designed by Kafka or crafting surreal parodies of academic peer reviews, AJ writes with a balance of quiet intensity and playful absurdity that keeps readers coming back for more.
For those seeking a blog that is equal parts insightful, irreverent, and refreshingly authentic, AJ Wright provides a unique perspective that celebrates neurodiversity while poking fun at the peculiarities of the world we live in. Also a contributor at Thinking Sociologically.