Can you be both a social scientist and a policy advocate? I am certainly glad that you try to be both. When I aspired to academia, at the time you were writing about the Soviets in Angola (as was I), I also had the policy world in mind. Not advocacy, mind you, but work in government, in making policy and carrying it out. I believed then, and believe now, that each world does better if it is informed by the other. Yet academics and policymakers do much to keep that other at arms length.
Working in both at the same time, as you do as academic and advocate, is difficult. At bottom, it may be impossible to serve both worlds equally well. The positions one advocates will almost assuredly bleed into one's academic work (the converse is less problematic). Your view of the Russia/Ukraine conflict, for example, differs from Mearsheimer's, but you and Mearsheimer come down on different sides of the policy debates. Your position, your understanding of Putin, as show in the International Security article, surely informs your advocacy. It cannot--should not--be otherwise. Which position came first--academic or advocacy--is a chicken-and-egg problem that no one will solve.
A related issue that you did not raise is whether academics can write for a broad public and not just the narrow audience in their discipline. An argument for scholarly work aimed at the public is that it brings sophisticated arguments hashed out in academia to public debates, to the benefit of everyone. Doing this well takes are rare set of talents and skills. Some can do it--Joseph Nye is a prime example--but too few try. Your advocacy, which I follow closely, does the same.
This is an interesting topic. On February 25, 2022, my Political Science colleague emailed me and said in a week we are doing a public talk with our Geography colleague on what just happened in Russia/Ukraine. He continued to write that he would talk about the roles of the EU and NATO, our Geography colleague can handle the details of the past thirty years of break up of the USSR and ethnic and geographical change... so for you as the historian... well... tell us why Putin is doing this.
We chatted over Zoom and I said he was crazy, but we kept talking and decided to do something like this for my giant community college audience just outside of Chicago. Despite our trepidation, it went well. I am not sure what I said to this day. In summer 2022, I took early retirement (not because of this, ha!), but as I looked back at boxes of things in my office over decades I noticed something...
I am a historian, so not in my mind a social scientist, but a humanist. That is a distinction not worth discussing here, but I normally do not deal with current affairs, but I research and publish on Russian-American relations-in a historical context rather than in a contemporary way. However, my boxes were full of flyers (perhaps over 100) of talks I had given about Russia on many contemporary and historical topics since the 1990s at Chicago area public libraries, civic organizations, study groups, etc... What is remarkable is that I can recall more than a dozen conversations with the people who invited me about why didn’t they invite Prof. x. from one of the many prestigious universities in the area and their answers were almost always the same... they would not come do it. So, I fear academics don’t want to speak to the public for all of reason Dr. McFaul laid out, but if they don’t... who will do it?
What an interesting question. I think you can do both, despite the difficulties, criticisms, and silly Twitter insults. I believe people should do both if they can. To understand the world, I, for one, rely heavily on writing and speaking by such individuals, as they can think outside the box and see the bigger picture. Timothy Snyder is another good example, although he hasn’t (to my knowledge) worked in government. Ruth Ben-Ghiat is an academic historian who’s been an invaluable source of insights the last ca. 6 years in particular, explaining the MAGA playbook. She was consulted by the Jan. 6 Committee.
I feel like most of the world prefers everything and everyone to fit into a neat, clearly defined box, black and white, all nice and uncomplicated. I get that, it would be easier sometimes if it were so, but...
Excellent question. I believe that at the core of the answer lies expertise, so cannot apply generally. If the social scientist has not had experience in forming policy in the past, or being a first-hand observer of the process, then he/she should be wary of venturing onto that pitch. You, Prof. McFaul, have the solid policy expertise to do so ably.
Although my foundation for studying Russia may have been laid at Georgetown, Paris IV/Sciences Po and the Harriman Institute in the 1980’s, I didn’t feel qualified to apply the acquired knowledge in a policy setting, such as in the DoS, certainly not after failing to predict the fall of the USSR as soon as it did. But after years of working on transitions in Latvia, Ukraine, Angola, Cambodia and Vietnam, I detected set patterns in the environment within which changes could occur. It would subsequently be an act of false modesty to not inveigh on interventions and methodologies necessary to maximize the probability of transition success. In a similar manner, Prof. McFaul, you possess the requisite knowledge and so have almost an obligation to advocate for policies you believe in, no less than Henry Kissinger.
Of course, assumptions need to be well-enumerated, and justifications clearly expressed, but as you rightfully stated, “someone with less commitment to academic norms about causation and data” will otherwise take your place. That would be a major loss to the community of readers/implementers searching for well-justified analysis and insight. I might say the same regarding Fiona Hill. Without your participation in that discourse, I don’t believe the optimal policy will be found. For sure a dialectic, iterative process lies ahead to achieve said policy, but a few U.S. ambassadors to Russia who have served over the past 14 years should be involved—you most certainly.
If my opinion, for example, is based on experiential learning and results of dialogue within informal circles with which you probably wouldn’t engage (eg. amateur golf tournaments amongst players of ex-CIS countries, Russian-speaking college fraternities in the Baltic States and experts on de-weaponizing viruses in West Africa, to name a few), or working embedded in a Ukrainian government ministry, then I must tether my opinions to more academic moorings. On the other hand, pure academic theory is almost invariably naïve and applied too generally—in the social sciences. Your positions are well-constructed and leavened by years of policy involvement and diplomacy—they are valuable. On YouTube, one can find hundreds of smooth-talking “analysts” (Arestovich comes to mind) but they are really columnists.
If I could introduce an analogy, the movie “The Fifth Element” comes to mind. A few people, out of thousands, hold an element necessary to save the world, but not every one of the five knows they do. Could there be five …or 10…12 people who will provide elements of an optimal policy prescriptive for Russia, Ukraine, and the Russian-Ukraine war in 2023?
A policy advocate must also refrain from writing off the leader who has bitten off more than he can chew, whose ambitions far exceed his country’s capacities, who has a finger on the nuclear button, and can decide the fate of his country decades into the future. Yes, although I’m slightly older than you and my experience abroad spans many countries, if I were to espouse a policy transcending the boundaries of the current war, it would surely require tempering by yourself.
Your scholarship has been extraordinary and your experiences unique. I don’t doubt that you are one of the dozen holding a conceptual element required for the solution. You may be criticized, but don’t let those criticisms from relative amateurs suppress your advocacy…please.
Can you be both a social scientist and a policy advocate? I am certainly glad that you try to be both. When I aspired to academia, at the time you were writing about the Soviets in Angola (as was I), I also had the policy world in mind. Not advocacy, mind you, but work in government, in making policy and carrying it out. I believed then, and believe now, that each world does better if it is informed by the other. Yet academics and policymakers do much to keep that other at arms length.
Working in both at the same time, as you do as academic and advocate, is difficult. At bottom, it may be impossible to serve both worlds equally well. The positions one advocates will almost assuredly bleed into one's academic work (the converse is less problematic). Your view of the Russia/Ukraine conflict, for example, differs from Mearsheimer's, but you and Mearsheimer come down on different sides of the policy debates. Your position, your understanding of Putin, as show in the International Security article, surely informs your advocacy. It cannot--should not--be otherwise. Which position came first--academic or advocacy--is a chicken-and-egg problem that no one will solve.
A related issue that you did not raise is whether academics can write for a broad public and not just the narrow audience in their discipline. An argument for scholarly work aimed at the public is that it brings sophisticated arguments hashed out in academia to public debates, to the benefit of everyone. Doing this well takes are rare set of talents and skills. Some can do it--Joseph Nye is a prime example--but too few try. Your advocacy, which I follow closely, does the same.
great points., Need to think about
This is an interesting topic. On February 25, 2022, my Political Science colleague emailed me and said in a week we are doing a public talk with our Geography colleague on what just happened in Russia/Ukraine. He continued to write that he would talk about the roles of the EU and NATO, our Geography colleague can handle the details of the past thirty years of break up of the USSR and ethnic and geographical change... so for you as the historian... well... tell us why Putin is doing this.
We chatted over Zoom and I said he was crazy, but we kept talking and decided to do something like this for my giant community college audience just outside of Chicago. Despite our trepidation, it went well. I am not sure what I said to this day. In summer 2022, I took early retirement (not because of this, ha!), but as I looked back at boxes of things in my office over decades I noticed something...
I am a historian, so not in my mind a social scientist, but a humanist. That is a distinction not worth discussing here, but I normally do not deal with current affairs, but I research and publish on Russian-American relations-in a historical context rather than in a contemporary way. However, my boxes were full of flyers (perhaps over 100) of talks I had given about Russia on many contemporary and historical topics since the 1990s at Chicago area public libraries, civic organizations, study groups, etc... What is remarkable is that I can recall more than a dozen conversations with the people who invited me about why didn’t they invite Prof. x. from one of the many prestigious universities in the area and their answers were almost always the same... they would not come do it. So, I fear academics don’t want to speak to the public for all of reason Dr. McFaul laid out, but if they don’t... who will do it?
What an interesting question. I think you can do both, despite the difficulties, criticisms, and silly Twitter insults. I believe people should do both if they can. To understand the world, I, for one, rely heavily on writing and speaking by such individuals, as they can think outside the box and see the bigger picture. Timothy Snyder is another good example, although he hasn’t (to my knowledge) worked in government. Ruth Ben-Ghiat is an academic historian who’s been an invaluable source of insights the last ca. 6 years in particular, explaining the MAGA playbook. She was consulted by the Jan. 6 Committee.
I feel like most of the world prefers everything and everyone to fit into a neat, clearly defined box, black and white, all nice and uncomplicated. I get that, it would be easier sometimes if it were so, but...
Excellent question. I believe that at the core of the answer lies expertise, so cannot apply generally. If the social scientist has not had experience in forming policy in the past, or being a first-hand observer of the process, then he/she should be wary of venturing onto that pitch. You, Prof. McFaul, have the solid policy expertise to do so ably.
Although my foundation for studying Russia may have been laid at Georgetown, Paris IV/Sciences Po and the Harriman Institute in the 1980’s, I didn’t feel qualified to apply the acquired knowledge in a policy setting, such as in the DoS, certainly not after failing to predict the fall of the USSR as soon as it did. But after years of working on transitions in Latvia, Ukraine, Angola, Cambodia and Vietnam, I detected set patterns in the environment within which changes could occur. It would subsequently be an act of false modesty to not inveigh on interventions and methodologies necessary to maximize the probability of transition success. In a similar manner, Prof. McFaul, you possess the requisite knowledge and so have almost an obligation to advocate for policies you believe in, no less than Henry Kissinger.
Of course, assumptions need to be well-enumerated, and justifications clearly expressed, but as you rightfully stated, “someone with less commitment to academic norms about causation and data” will otherwise take your place. That would be a major loss to the community of readers/implementers searching for well-justified analysis and insight. I might say the same regarding Fiona Hill. Without your participation in that discourse, I don’t believe the optimal policy will be found. For sure a dialectic, iterative process lies ahead to achieve said policy, but a few U.S. ambassadors to Russia who have served over the past 14 years should be involved—you most certainly.
If my opinion, for example, is based on experiential learning and results of dialogue within informal circles with which you probably wouldn’t engage (eg. amateur golf tournaments amongst players of ex-CIS countries, Russian-speaking college fraternities in the Baltic States and experts on de-weaponizing viruses in West Africa, to name a few), or working embedded in a Ukrainian government ministry, then I must tether my opinions to more academic moorings. On the other hand, pure academic theory is almost invariably naïve and applied too generally—in the social sciences. Your positions are well-constructed and leavened by years of policy involvement and diplomacy—they are valuable. On YouTube, one can find hundreds of smooth-talking “analysts” (Arestovich comes to mind) but they are really columnists.
If I could introduce an analogy, the movie “The Fifth Element” comes to mind. A few people, out of thousands, hold an element necessary to save the world, but not every one of the five knows they do. Could there be five …or 10…12 people who will provide elements of an optimal policy prescriptive for Russia, Ukraine, and the Russian-Ukraine war in 2023?
A policy advocate must also refrain from writing off the leader who has bitten off more than he can chew, whose ambitions far exceed his country’s capacities, who has a finger on the nuclear button, and can decide the fate of his country decades into the future. Yes, although I’m slightly older than you and my experience abroad spans many countries, if I were to espouse a policy transcending the boundaries of the current war, it would surely require tempering by yourself.
Your scholarship has been extraordinary and your experiences unique. I don’t doubt that you are one of the dozen holding a conceptual element required for the solution. You may be criticized, but don’t let those criticisms from relative amateurs suppress your advocacy…please.