Kai T. Erikson, the William R. Kenan, Jr. Professor of Sociology and American Studies, Emeritus at Yale, whose eloquent voice in defense of human communities changed the understanding of the way disasters affect the minds and hearts of human beings everywhere, died on Nov. 10 in the medical unit of the Whitney Center in Hamden, after a long illness. He was 94.
Erikson was "an exemplar of what every sociologist aspires to be - a sophisticated theorist who can speak to his fellow Americans about the problems of everyday life," said Jeffrey Alexander, the Lillian Chavenson Saden Professor of Sociology, Emeritus and former chair of Yale's Department of Sociology.
Erikson often told the story of how he came to Yale. Tenured at Emory University at the time, following four years at the University of Pittsburgh, Erikson was interviewed by Yale President Kingman Brewster, who was on a campaign to help entice the youngest and brightest faculty members that departments could find. The problem, Erikson recalled, was that Yale was not going to offer him immediate tenure. Brewster persuaded him to come to Yale anyway, a feat Erikson said could only have been accomplished by someone as compelling as Brewster, whose excitement at building intellectual community Erikson found inspiring.
Erikson was swiftly promoted and never sorry for his gamble. His first book, "Wayward Puritans: A Study in the Sociology of Deviance," was published the year he arrived at Yale. Called "a true sociological classic," it focuses on a Puritan settlement in 17th-century Massachusetts, arguing that deviant forms of behavior, as Erikson later wrote, "can sometimes be a valuable resource in society, providing a point of contrast, necessary for the maintenance of a coherent social order."
His second book led him to the subject matter that would engage him for the rest of his career.
In 1972 he received a phone call from an attorney he did not know who, he said, "was about to file a suit for damages on behalf of a number of people from a place called Buffalo Creek, a coal mining community in West Virginia that had been devastated by a flood." Its survivors, he was told, faced collective trauma and a complete breakdown in the structure and order of normal life. Erikson visited Buffalo Creek, became deeply engaged with the community, and helped the law firm by testifying on behalf of its citizens.
"The main thrust of the testimony," he wrote, "was that the disaster had damaged the tissues of communal life as well as the bodies and the minds of the persons who had experienced it." His book "Everything in Its Path: Destruction of Community in the Buffalo Creek Flood" was awarded the Sorokin Award by the American Sociological Association.
After Buffalo Creek, Erikson devoted his work over the rest of his career to examining life in disaster settings, at home and abroad. His many immersions included working with the Ojibwa Indian reserve in subarctic Canada, where a mercury spill had contaminated vital waterways; in eastern Pennsylvania, where trauma connected to a near meltdown of a nuclear power plant had a profound impact on the community; in Colorado, where a community endured the health effects of gasoline spills; in Western Slavonia, now part of Croatia, where people suffered from the shattering impacts of civil war; and in New Orleans following the life-altering misery and decimation caused by Hurricane Katrina. Many of these are chronicled in his 1994 book "A New Species of Trouble," which examines the impact of devastating human-caused disasters.
Part of what made Erikson's narratives come alive was his unmatched power of expression. As Robert Lifton wrote in reviewing his 1994 book, "A New Species of Trouble," "Erikson speaks softly and powerfully. No other social scientist - indeed no other American writer - can equal his capacity to move from the eloquent particular to the wise generalization." Richard Brodhead, the Bird White Housum professor of English, emeritus, former dean of Yale College, and former president of Duke University, called Erikson "the ultimate rarity: a first-rate intellect and a perfect democrat" as well as "the master of clarity and the common tongue."
Erikson not only wrote about the disorder, upheaval, and the human costs of disaster but testified in law courts in defense of the communities affected by it. "The main thrust of the testimony I was prepared to offer," he wrote, "was that the disaster had damaged the tissues of communal life as well as the bodies and the minds of the persons who had experienced it." Legend has it that his powerful presence and voice became so well-known and feared by opposing counsel that once, when he was seen to enter a courtroom for the defense unannounced, the other side immediately settled.
As influential as Erikson's work was as a scholar, it was matched by the variety of ways he used his talents. A mentor to generations of undergraduate and graduate students, longtime chair of Yale's Department of Sociology and of the American Studies Program, editor of The Yale Review for more than a decade, and president in turn of the American Sociological Association and of the Society for the Study of Social Problems, Erikson was always counted on to participate in and build communities.
Sam Chauncey, former secretary of the university at Yale and special assistant to President Brewster, called Erikson "beloved by students." Christopher Buckley '75, whose senior project was advised by Erikson and for whom Erikson became a mentor and friend, spoke for many when he wrote: "Kai was everything you wanted in a teacher: learned, generous, bemused, enthusiastic and fun. He loved Yale and his students, and we loved him back." For his teaching excellence, Erikson received both the Richard Sewall Teaching Award in 1999 and the William Clyde DeVane Medal of Phi Beta Kappa in 2002.
Erikson's 12 years as editor of The Yale Review saw to the publication of many new and young writers, and a distinguished cohort of authors of his and an earlier generation: John Hersey, Robert Penn Warren, Isaiah Berlin, Lillian Hellman, Robert Fitzgerald, James Merrill, Malcolm Cowley, Elting Morison, William Arrowsmith, Eleanor Clark, and many more.
In the councils of the university, nothing tested his talents more than his years as the highly regarded Master of Trumbull College and chair of the Council of Masters, when, as part of his kitchen cabinet, President Brewster called on his voice to help calm and support the university in edgy times.
Jonathan Fanton, another special assistant to Brewster and a close friend of Erikson's who went on to become the president of the John D. and Catherine MacArthur Foundation and the president of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, remembered that Erikson's "wisdom, empathy, and ability to bridge differences made him central to Yale's ability to navigate the challenges of May Day," the massive anti-war and Black Panther support rally that took place in New Haven in May 1970.
Erikson was also an effective strategist during the administration of former Yale president Benno Schmidt, a challenging financial period for the university. At the time, Erikson was chair of the Department of Sociology and editor of The Yale Review, both of which were threatened with elimination. Erikson marshaled support within Yale and around the nation for both the department and the Review and was among the first and most eminent to suggest to Schmidt a committee to reconsider the original suggested cuts. Both the Department of Sociology and The Yale Review survived and thrive today.
Born in Austria, Erikson was the son of Joan Erikson, an artist and writer, and Erik Erkson, the famous German-born American developmental psychoanalyst known for his theory proposing that people progress through eight stages of life, each marked by a specific psychological conflict. He grew up in Northern California, graduated from The Putney School in Vermont, attended Reed College, and received his Ph.D. from the University of Chicago.
When asked about his youth, Erikson noted that he often had to contend with questions about his famous father. Erikson loved, was influenced by, and was close to his father, but he says that he "stiffened" when, inevitably, on first meeting others, he was so often asked about him. Those who knew Erikson, however, never thought about comparisons to his father, or anyone else, since he was so accomplished, admired, and especially so well liked for himself. His view of the importance of community seemed illustrated by his own effect on the communities of which he was a part.
Erikson is survived by his wife Joanna Erikson, a specialist on public policy and child development, and a former associate at the Yale Child Study Center; by his two sons, Keith (Leslie) and Christopher (Becky Mode); four grandchildren; and by his sister, Sue Boland. A memorial service will be held in the coming months.
