The demands of the academy can, at times, appear futile. This malaise is most acute when one’s ostensible “requirements” for continued professional development take them further away from the most inspiring avenues of their field. Reviewing literature for an upcoming essay, I came across a succinct (and edifying) critique leveled by international relations scholars, John Mearsheimer and Stephen Walt.
Worried that IR had abdicated responsibility for developing applicable theories to the world’s changing events, with scholars opting for (needing to adopt) quicker, more reductive and less rigorous “hypothesis testing” (i.e. crunching numbers into regression analysis and reporting on any “miracles”), Walt and Mearsheimer explain how the IR’s incentives have changed:
By contrast, almost anyone with modest mathematical abilities can be taught the basic techniques of hypothesis testing and produce competent research. Similarly, teaching students about research design, process-tracing, and historical interpretation can help them do better qualitative research, but it will not turn someone lacking imagination into an accomplished theorist.
Moreover, because graduate programs are reducing the time students take to complete their degrees, teaching a set of tools that enable them to produce a competent thesis quickly has become the norm. Developing or refining theory is more time-consuming and riskier as it requires deeper immersion in the subject matter and the necessary flash of inspiration may never occur. Once a graduate program is committed to getting lots of PhD students out the door on schedule, it has a powerful incentive to emphasize simplis- tic hypothesis testing. In addition, piling on more and more methods courses (whether quantitative or qualitative) while compressing the time to degree inevitably crowds out courses on theory and on the substance of IR, leaving students ill-equipped to think in creative and fruitful ways about the field’s core issues.
A life’s work is not a series of stepping- stones, onto which we calmly place our feet, but more like an ocean crossing where there is no path, only a heading, a direction, in conversation with the elements. Looking back we see the wake we have left as only a brief glimmering trace on the waters.
The media has to assume even more responsibility —in navigating fact vs. fiction landscapes (more prevalent in US coverage)— but also, as a September report highlights, in providing concrete examples of how we might find solutions to our global crisis.
Surprise Glacier is photographed during a trip to Alaska to catalog glacial melt and other climate-related research. Image: Don Becker. August 22, 2008. USGS
Writing today in for The Guardian, George Monbiot was at it again with a column sporting a memorable title: “On climate change this government is indifferent to life, in love with death.” He was referencing David Cameron’s government, drawing a clawing comparison between the British handling of ISIS [“We have to hit these terrorists in their heartlands right now,” Prime Minister David Cameron told parliament] with the government’s unsatisfying treatment of climate change [increasing subsidies for fossil fuels, tax breaks for extraction of oil/gas from the North Sea, and the curtailing of its carbon capture and storage competitions —something Monbiot highlights as even more necessary given the UK’s focus on the oil and gas as economic stimulus.] The crux of the argument: unclear understanding of how ISIS might come to harm Britain has not stopped clear action. Reams of scientific evidence regarding the consequences of climate change has spurred little action.
Sufficed to say, Monbiot is frustrated.
This latest article —one of many contributions Monbiot offers through his blog, column and website— slides into the growing volumes of meaningful (and well-intentioned) reporting on climate change. For those who accept the brash facts of our steadily warming (intensifying, increasingly variable) globe, this week’s talks in Paris have highlighted (and expanded) the journalistic contributions to understanding climate change and what it means for —or to— the average person.
Striking, however, is the tactic Monbiot employs to cajole readers —offering the grim and gory analogy of war as political statement in the article’s opening paragraphs, before resorting to a worn trope of “Whataboutism” —i.e. if you think ISIS is bad, well, what about…”
I don’t blame Monbiot for this. Should we blame journalism?
Last year, a survey by Media Matters revealed broadcast news had increased their coverage of climate change from 129 minutes of coverage in 2013, to 159 minutes of coverage in 2014. The study also found a clear increase in climate change discussion on Sunday morning programs compared to nightly news. This change, the authors explained, was due to demand from U.S. Senators committing more of their own time to discuss issues related to the climate.
Interesting here: the number of minutes devoted by broadcast networks to climate change remains below 2009 levels, despite —one presumes— what is increasing clarity over the nature of the climate change risk.*
The media’s appetite for —and production of— climate change stories will continue to fluctuate over time, but the struggle for many journalists is to write compelling enough stories to attract attention, without inflating (and in some cases unseating) the central thesis responsible climate journalism ought assert: climate change stands as the most influential trends defining our relationship with the planet.
For some, like Andrew C. Revkin —who writes volumes for Dot Earth, his op-ed page at The New York Times— the internet provides space and opportunity to report out (and through) climate issues and their effect on natural resources and the environment. When this valuable endeavor was shifted from the news division to the op-ed pages in 2010 —to afford flexibility, certainly— it also carried a dangerous (and perhaps inaccurate) signal: climate change and our reporting of it is not strictly “news.”
Thus, the media has to assume even more responsibility both, in navigating fact vs. fiction landscapes (more prevalent in US coverage, and, as a September report highlights, in providing concrete examples of how we might find solutions to our global crisis.
The report, published by the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives, found that news coverage of political action (or the lack thereof) on climate change breeds significant levels of apathy in readers. The data shows a steady demand for consumers of climate change news —the “well-informed”— for “information about how to take action.” Positively, respondents also found new stories about “everyday heroes” taking initiatives and leadership around environmental issues particularly inspiring and exciting.
Returning to Monbiot (and in his defense) his wide array of stories cover the dramatic and the dry, and his subjects range from the level of individuals to the complex collective action problems around climate negotiation and governance. The intention —and it is a honorable one— is to fire warning shots over as many bows as possible.
To close on a positive (and cautionary) note, this week’s climate negotiations have clearly drawn the interest of international press, and media have been quick to respond with “highly localized” stories about the causes and consequences of climate change (highlighted for their positive impact on consumers in the CCPA report). The challenge, as always, is finding the editorial freedom to report these stories before and after we lose the specific gravity of this week’s events.
*Print newspapers have faired better than broadcast news, with increasing number of stories each year. The United Kingdom significantly outpaces the United States in volume of coverage.
If these trends inform the larger universe of the reading world —if they indicate a growing hesitation to engage deeply with the messiness of real life— then we might be reading more while learning less
While the post runs long —perhaps too long— with some esoteric specifics of James’ conception of the novel, and the necessary foundations of good fiction, the essay also tackles the West’s (I’m not sure, even now, whether North America and Europe are equally implicated) cultural slide away from the serious —a fetishizing of Y.A. fiction’s simplified view of the world.
While I am not a literary critic, the sensibility of today’s reader is always of interest. Does it matter than Harry Potter was a runaway success? Maybe not. But if these trends inform the larger universe of the reading world —if they indicate a growing hesitation to engage deeply with the messiness of real life— then we might be reading more while learning less.
Adam McCauley 