the landscape for civically engaged research

I’m on my way home from co-directing the Institute for Civically Engaged Research (ICER), which took place this year at UCLA. Our participants are encouraged to debate what constitutes “civically engaged research” (CER), and we look for people who will disagree about that question. Nevertheless, here is one definition:

Civically engaged political science research is an approach to inquiry that involves political scientists collaborating in a mutually beneficial way with people and groups beyond th eacademy to co-produce, share, and apply knowledge related to power or politics, contributing to self-governance.

civically: How people govern themselves. Engaged research teams are self-governing collaborative groups (composed of community organizations, government actors, social movements, and others); their research strengthens self-governance for others.

engaged: Collaborative, in partnership, with benefits andsubstantive roles for both political scientists and nonacademicsin the same projects.

research: Any organized, rigorous production of knowledge,including empirical, interpretive, historical, conceptual, nor-mative, and other forms of inquiry.

political science: A pluralist discipline with a central focus onquestions of power, politics, and governance

Amy Cabrera Rasmussen, Peter Levine, Robert Lieberman, Valeria Sinclair-Chapman & Rogers Smith “Preface,” PS: Political Science & Politics symposium on Civically Engaged Research (2021)

I don’t believe that CER is the single best approach. I also appreciate many other kinds of political science, from close readings of ancient texts to game theory to analyses of massive voter files. But I believe that CER is valuable and underdeveloped in political science.

Fairly often, the senior administrators of a university are supportive. In Southern California, we heard impressive presentations about university-wide policies and initiatives at UCLA, UC-San Diego, and Cal-State Dominguez Hills that enable CER. Many other examples could be found across the country. Perhaps some politically edgy engaged research projects make some university leaders nervous (depending, in part, on the state’s political environment), but often institutional leaders appreciate interdisciplinary work, applied research, collaborations with local community organizations, and projects that create opportunities for students.

The funding landscape is complicated. Often CER requires a lot of time and effort for developing relationships. Outcomes are unpredictable; goals may shift as projects play out. Some funders prefer concrete projects that have predictable outcomes. On the other hand, local foundations and philanthropists may prefer engaged research over other kinds of academic activity because they care about local issues and organizations. And many serious CER scholars are credible applicants for grants because they are seasoned civic actors with strong networks.

Often the strongest skeptics and opponents of CER in political science are political scientists–other members of a scholar’s department, hiring committees, and reviewers. At best, these colleagues overlook and fail to value the time and skill required to build partnerships that yield research. At worst, they reject the results as fatally biased, or merely local and un-generalizable, or insufficiently original and sophisticated. Theorists, empiricists, and formal modelers have different notions of sophistication, but any of them may regard CER as simple, even though an impressive CER project is often extremely complex.

Not every effort to collaborate with partners deserves credit, any more than any text typed on a word processor should count toward tenure. Good CER demonstrates rigor, ethics, and validity while also requiring diplomatic and managerial skills, cultural competence, and tactical acumen. I would not ask the profession to reward every effort at CER but to become capable of identifying the really good work (and supporting newcomers who are still developing their skills).

We certainly have allies within the profession; in fact, APSA is responsible for ICER. But we still need to change many minds.

the 2025 Institute for Civically Engaged Research

We are concluding the second day of the 2025 edition of the American Political Science Association’s Institute for Civically Engaged Research (ICER), which is a professional-development program for political scientists (graduate students, professors, and some people who work in other institutions) who want to create knowledge in partnerships with non-academics.

This is the 6th ICER, which means that our current and former Fellows number about 120 people. It has been deeply satisfying to watch them do impressive research with partners and to advance in their careers.

Previously, we met at Tufts’ Tisch College of Civic Life. This year, thanks to the Haynes Foundation, we are at UCLA. The Los Angeles metro area, home to almost 13 million people, makes a fascinating backdrop for discussions of research about politics and social issues. Just yesterday, according to the LA Times,

Immigration agents in military green surrounded MacArthur Park as the convoy readied for a show of force akin to a Hollywood movie.

They came with horses and armored vehicles, carrying rifles and in tactical gear in the middle of what is the heart of immigrant Los Angeles. But there were few of their supposed targets to be found Monday — immigrants without documentation.

On the elegant UCLA campus, quiet in midsummer, there is no obvious sign of state repression. However, some of our speakers have offered insights about the city from their perspectives as engaged scholars. And our conversations range much more widely, for we have participants from Bangladesh, Nigeria, and elsewhere.

See also: Civically Engaged Research in Political Science; how to keep political science in touch with politics; Grounded Normative Theory

a pluralistic 250th

As the 250th year of the republic begins, I am not in a celebratory mood. Our current political crisis is the worst since 1877, the end of Reconstruction. The government is violating core republican principles; and to some extent, this is happening because of flaws in American culture and civil society.

Still, the United States is a community, and communities can mark auspicious dates. America’s 250th anniversary events need not celebrate our national leaders or claim any kind of superiority for our political history and system. The year can be a celebration of our people, by our people, in all our diversity. We can mark the 250th in a pluralistic way, with many local communities, groups, and institutions expressing how they understand the moment–not in a centralized way determined by the White House. In that case, the 250th will be an opportunity to contest the meaning of America, and such contestation is the best of our tradition.

My friend Rev. Dr. Willis Johnson writes: “Personally, I’m drawn to the notion of bearing witness, not just to what is, but to what ought to be. Independence Day, in its best form, should be an act of collective remembrance and recommitment, not just a party. We need to remember that freedom is not static, nor is it evenly distributed. We need to recommit to the labor of making liberty real for everyone, especially those for whom the promise of independence still rings hollow.”

I am old enough to remember the Bicentennial, albeit dimly. The official American Revolution Bicentennial Administration organized some of the events. President Ford presided over a nationally televised fireworks display and reviewed the sailing ships that had gathered in New York Harbor from aboard a naval vessel.

But there were also many local and nongovernmental events, including some protests. The image with this post illustrates an environmental protest in the Boston Harbor that marked the 200th anniversary of the Tea Party. Even the Tall Ships were organized by a nonprofit.

To the extent that the celebrations appeared unified, it was mainly because of the political context. Two centrist presidential candidates, Ford and Carter, were competing to unite the country after the traumas of the previous decade. Nixon had resigned in 1974; Saigon had fallen in 1975. This meant that Watergate and the war were now definitively over, and Americans could hope that a less contentious period was starting. The national government did not create a unifying moment, but the country was in a relatively unified mood.

Such is not the case today. The official national effort, America250, has “announce[d] a monumental celebration, kicking off a new era of American greatness, featuring special remarks by President Donald J. Trump. This kick-off event will take place at the Iowa State Fairgrounds, offering patriotism, excitement, inspiration, and a glimpse into the grand festivities planned for America’s 250th anniversary.”

Even people who support Trump need to recognize that many fellow citizens oppose him, and any kind of ceremony that focuses on him and invokes MAGA concepts will provoke opposition. In my view, such conflict is the most appropriate celebration of a free people, born in rebellion and accustomed to free speech and debate.

Rev. Johnson concludes, “In my heart, I still love my country. I love its messiness, its stubborn hope, its capacity to surprise. To love America means abstaining from turning a blind eye to its wounds. Loving our dear republic means asking hard questions at the cookout. Above all, love of country requires telling the truth—about the people still locked out of the celebration, about the freedoms that remain unfulfilled, about the dangers of settling for easy myths.”

There is little hope that America250 will tell these truths, but it doesn’t own the anniversary. The American people have an opportunity to celebrate our diverse community and to recommit to self-government.

In Ukraine: Building Civic Life Amid War

In this episode of The Stakes, host Brad Rourke speaks with Kettering Foundation Senior Fellow and retired Ohio Chief Justice Maureen O’Connor and Kettering board member and Tufts professor Peter Levine. They reflect on their recent experiences helping to build democracy and civil society in Ukraine—O’Connor working to vet candidates for the embattled Constitutional Court, and Levine teaching Civic Studies in a war-torn Kyiv.

Both offer firsthand insight into the resilience of Ukrainian civil society and the country’s struggle to build democratic institutions. O’Connor describes the bomb shelter where judicial reforms are being debated, and Levine details the micro-decisions citizens must make under constant threat. Together, they explore what the U.S. can learn from Ukraine’s resolve—and how psychological, civic, and symbolic support from the West matters more than ever.