What distinguishes the human being from other species? Since the earliest civilizations, the capacity for self-awareness and for questioning reality has been considered a defining trait of our species. Throughout history, individuals and societies have called their own beliefs, values, and social structures into question, thereby driving cultural and philosophical evolution. In this vein, Sergio Labourdette (2019) invites us to conceive of these cognitive abilities not as mere static philosophical concepts, but rather as dynamic, multidimensional processes.
His "singularity-multiplicity" framework, which encompasses eight dimensions (including the ethical, the political, the cultural, and others), offers a vision of a human being who exists on diverse planes and is in a constant process of self-adjustment and transformation. Thus, self-criticism emerges not only as an intellectual quality but also as a vital phenomenon that grants the human being the capacity to review and redefine their own existence in ever-changing contexts (Labourdette, 2019).
Self-criticism, defined as "the criticism that someone makes of their own attitudes or behaviors" (Real Academia Española, 2025), has always played a crucial role in the human trajectory. How would our history have unfolded without questioning ourselves? Throughout the ages, moments of intense collective introspection have occurred, fostering social revolutions, scientific advances, and profound cultural transformations.
I love diving into theory and reviewing different authors. However, they should only ever serve as references, not as the definitive truth. The real map is the lived experience. When everything around us is fast and intangible, clinging to physical formats—holding a printed page or an analog record—isn't just nostalgia. It’s a way to preserve a certain artistic sensitivity. It grounds our personal rituals within the collective rush.
Yet, paradoxically, these very periods of renewal carry risks when self-criticism is suppressed or practiced superficially. For instance, in the Middle Ages, the lack of questioning regarding religious dogmas limited cultural progress, whereas the Renaissance marked an intense turning point by challenging those established ideas, triggering a rebirth in art, science, and philosophy (Burke, 2000).
From a sociological perspective, self-criticism could operate on several levels: individual, group, and structural. At a personal level, we internalize social norms and expectations that, at certain moments, we can subject to examination and scrutiny. This introspective exercise allows for the emergence of new values and interpretative models of the world. When this reflection extends to collective and institutional realms, social structures and power relations begin to transform. In this sense, self-criticism is configured as an indispensable mechanism for social change: without it, societies lose their democratizing momentum and their capacity for innovation becomes severely limited (Foucault, 1976).
If we read modern history, self-criticism stands as the engine of profound transformations, finding its tipping point in the 18th century. Under this framework, the Enlightenment—with figures like Immanuel Kant (1784)—not only promoted the autonomy of reason and individual responsibility as foundations of progress; it also provided society with the intellectual tools to challenge the legitimacy of its own institutions. This critical maturity found its most radical practical expression in the French Revolution: a process where society ceased to be a subject of tradition to become an auditor of absolutist power, collectively rewriting its destiny. Thus, the capacity to challenge structures was consolidated as a historical constant which, from struggles for civil rights to gender equity, demonstrates that questioning the established order is the only path toward collective self-realization.
And what happens when self-criticism is impeded? In authoritarian regimes, any question that inconveniences power is considered a threat. In such circumstances, collective introspection is severely limited, and a uniform discourse is imposed that nullifies critical thought and curbs social innovation. The resistance to questioning is, therefore, intimately linked to power relations: as Michel Foucault (1984) pointed out, those who hold authority seek to reinforce it precisely by preventing others from challenging the status quo.
From the 20th century onwards, social theory and contemporary philosophy endowed the concept of self-criticism with an even more reflexive dimension. The philosopher JĂĽrgen Habermas (1987), for instance, highlighted the role of communication and rational discourse as essential ingredients in the processes of collective criticism. From this viewpoint, self-criticism transcends the mere questioning of ideas: it also implies examining how societies exchange knowledge and construct their shared reality. In this way, self-critical knowledge becomes a fundamental pillar of genuine democracies and a key tool for overcoming various forms of oppression.
The vision proposed by Labourdette (2019) reinforces the idea that self-criticism must be rich and multidimensional. By conceiving of the human being as a "singularity-multiplicity" that requires self-reflection across eight dimensions, he invites us to inquire simultaneously into the individual, social, ethical, political, cultural, and other spheres. In this approach, self-criticism is a continuous and inescapable process for sustaining freedom and driving social evolution. History shows that societies that abandon self-examination tend to stagnate: they repeat mistakes and lose agility in the face of new challenges, whereas those that foster constant questioning advance toward innovation, justice, and equity (Labourdette, 2019).
Ultimately, self-criticism stands as an essential driving force in human progress. As a mechanism of collective introspection, it allows us to question outdated power structures and foster significant social change. Labourdette (2019) reminds us that self-criticism is not an isolated or one-off act, but rather a continuous and multifaceted process. By integrating self-reflection into all its dimensions, societies ensure they move toward a more equitable, creative, and free future. History demonstrates that only those who face their own shadows through constant self-criticism manage to advance in development and self-awareness.
-Burke, P. (2000). La formaciĂłn de una cultura moderna. Ediciones de la Universidad de Salamanca.
-Foucault, M. (1976). La voluntad de saber. Siglo XXI Editores.
-Foucault, M. (1984). Las palabras y las cosas. Siglo XXI Editores.
-Habermas, J. (1987). TeorĂa de la acciĂłn comunicativa (Vol. I). Fondo de Cultura EconĂłmica.
-Kant, I. (2002). CrĂtica de la razĂłn pura (A. GarcĂa Suárez, Trad.). Ediciones Ariel. (Obra original publicada en 1781)
-Labourdette, S. (2019). Algunos enfoques sobre el mundo humano. OrientaciĂłn y Sociedad, 19(1), 1-13.
-Real Academia Española. (2025). AutocrĂtica. En Diccionario de la lengua española (23.ÂŞ ed.). https://dle.rae.es/autocrĂtica
This reflection is mine—a piece I authored and published in the first volume of Método 639. If I’m to speak on who I am behind these words, it goes beyond the titles. I have always found my rhythm in the act of writing; it is an extension of my anthropological curiosity and the quiet, intense hunger I have for reading.
But let’s be clear: I am not just interested in the sanctuary of the library. While I hold a deep respect for 'armchair sociology'—those necessary moments of deep, quiet, and abstract reflection that allow us to step back and synthesize reality—I am equally, perhaps even more, committed to the necessity of direct action.
I’ve always felt that practice must carry the weight of theory. For me, sociology isn't just about constructing frameworks in a vacuum; it’s about being present where the heat is, 'donde las papas queman,' as we say. It is about engaging with the messy, unpredictable, and raw pulse of reality. My work is an attempt to bridge that gap: to remain rigorous in my analysis, yes, but never so detached that I lose touch with the ground beneath my feet. I don't want to just observe the world from a distance; I want to participate in its transformation.