Skip to main content

DC Reflections

I just returned from a trip to Washington, DC where I spent a few days attending events and networking with various think tanks and advocacy organizations. Having spent the last few years doing academic work in political theory and intellectual property, learning about the policy work that happens closer to the sphere of praxis than theory has been eye-opening. My motivations for working on political philosophy included finding ways to make actual change in the world, and I have at times found myself frustrated with the isolation of the academic environment.

Going to DC, I learned that the isolation problem works both ways. While it's difficult to get politicians and policy-makers to hear academic arguments, I've found myself that academics are not always interested in the application of their theories. Since my work contains specific and substantial discussions of how theory should shape practice, I've gotten a bit of pushback. I've heard similar stories from other academics, still in the academy and not. I can understand the sense that stepping back from the creation of policy or direct political action gives an air of objectivity, but there is also a cost to stepping back.

The cost I have in mind is the communication gap between academic work and the creation of policy. Congresscritters are not experts, but they need to decide issues as if they were. Since they can't afford panels of expert advisers, they have to seek some outside support. Here enters the lobbyist, the advocate, the think tank, the research analyst. These are not all equivalent terms, but they exist in a shared space and fill similar roles: assimilating expert opinion from academics, industry leaders, and front-line professionals, and translating it into concrete policy recommendations.

Don't get me wrong, this is work that needs to get done. What I don't understand is why university faculty stepped back from this role. In giving up the role of translator and communicator, academics have sacrificed one of the most valuable public goods offered by higher education institutions. People who spend their lives immersed in their fields of study should be best-equipped to explain the relevance of their expertise and to connect abstract theory with concrete issues. More importantly, without the public-facing responsibility, academic allow the rest of the community to wonder what it is they do and why it is so important.

I've got my own worries about the future of higher education in the US, and seeing these developments reinforces those concerns. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

RPG Systems: An Analogy with UI Design

The current game in our weekly role-playing group is Deadlands. The previous game was Shadowrun. Both rule systems lie closer to the “chunky” side of the spectrum. Shadowrun has a particular reputation for its complex and somewhat cumbersome rules, and while Deadlands has less overall complexity, the system has a degree of granularity that interrupts play more often than it enhances narration. I enjoy role-playing games because I like participating in a good story. The rules system provides a set of constraints for the characters, the setting, and the conflicts. They help give the narrative structure, a background against which the story will take place. Too few rules, and telling an interesting and well-developed story becomes difficult. Too many rules tend to get in the way of individual scenes or events. With the right balance, it’s possible for the game master, usually me, to be sufficiently fluent in the rules system to resolve any conflict without extended consultation of on

The Incredible Lightness of Collaborative Consumption

Last week, we had to exchange our defective futon frame for a new one. The store didn't want to cover transport cost in either direction, so we had to figure out how to get our re-boxed frame from Mountain View to Los Altos. If we had a car, it would not have been very simple since we were aiming to buy a small sedan, nothing that can easily carry the frame and its box. Fortunately, we have a car sharing service that gives us access to a range of vehicles, including a van stored down the street from my building. After work, I grabbed the van, picked up the frame at our place, and then Tara and I drove to the futon to make the swap. I dropped off Tara and the new frame at our place, and then headed back to campus. On returning the van to its parking space, I hopped on a shuttle back to downtown Mountain View. We were able to do all of this because we're not tied to a specific vehicle for all of our transportation needs. The last car we owned was a van, and it came in handy o

Carless in California

For various reasons, we do not own a car despite living deep in American car country. The reasons are largely financial; the cost of living in downtown Mountain View crowds car ownership out of our budget. We pay more to live in a pedestrian friendly neighborhood, so we are less able to afford a car. At the same time, I don't need a car to get to work, and Tara doesn't drive, so any car we had would sit in the carport most of the week. Combine that waste of resources with a reluctance to contribute to the Bay Area's traffic congestion, and forgoing car ownership doesn't sound all that bad. Car sharing services allow us to grab a vehicle as long as we plan ahead a bit. The Caltrain provides access to San Francisco. There are convenience stores and cafes in walking distance, so we don't feel the absence of a car too often. Last night was one of the few times where I did. After getting home from work, we wanted a dinner cheaper than nearby delivery options. The n