Delaying the Tenure Clock May Be an Inequitable Response to COVID-19

When I did a Google image search for “equity,” this was the first hit. I’ve seen this sort of picture before, and you probably have too. Given the Interaction Institute for Social Change has made the image freely available for use, it probably has appeared on every university campus in America during some presentation on diversity, equity, and inclusion.

(Interaction Institute for Social Change | Artist: Angus Maguire. interactioninstitute.org; madewithangus.com)

The message of the cartoon is clear: Rigidly identical standards may perpetuate inequity if we don’t account for differences across personal circumstances.

With this in mind, I’d like to consider how universities are approaching the tenure and promotion process during the COVID-19 pandemic. The most common response seems to be allowing assistant professors to extend their tenure clock by a year. However, this may create inequity for those on the tenure track, particularly for those in groups already underrepresented in the professoriate.

Recently, members of the University of Massachusettes ADVANCE team, a group “focusing on offering equitable campus support for faculty members and fostering inclusion amid major shifts to higher education and deep uncertainty about the future,” proposed a series of recommendations for helping faculty navigate COVID. Regarding tenure, they recommended:

Automatically delay tenure, promotion and reviews. Institutions should immediately slow the timing of decisions on tenure and reappointment to account for the new and unexpected tasks faculty members have had to shoulder. COVID-19 has affected research productivity in many ways, resulting in reduced access to labs, travel cancellations and suspension of human-subjects research, among other issues. Tenure delays can help mitigate such negative effects of COVID-19 on women faculty, who are already navigating gender biases in evaluation processes.

https://www.insidehighered.com/advice/2020/09/04/advice-academic-administrators-how-best-support-faculty-during-pandemic-opinion

Let’s break this down. The first sentence observes that tenure-track faculty have encountered novel demands on their time and energy. In other words, assistant professors haven’t been vacationing during the pandemic. At my university, our Provost emphasized in an email to all faculty that the pandemic is “mandating our intense focus on teaching during all of 2020,” acknowledging “our planned progress on scholarship may be slowed.” In addition to whatever demands the pandemic has imposed on their personal lives, assistant professors have set aside research in order to train and transition to distance learning and hybrid classrooms.

Increased teaching workload isn’t the only challenge to research progress. The ADVANCE team notes that assistant professors often receive diminished research support from their universities, as well as more limited opportunities to collect data, present papers, and network with colleagues. For those whose scholarship requires longitudinal research, travel abroad, or field visits, the effect may be so devastating that assistant professors must reinvent their research programs.

Moreover, these burdens aren’t experienced equally across the professoriate. The pandemic appears to reduce the research productivity of women, perhaps because they are more likely to bear household and childcare responsibilities. The pandemic itself has hit ethnic/racial minority communities particularly hard, and faculty from underrepresented groups may face greater barriers to research productivity during the pandemic than their white peers.

Thus, in the classic equity image above, the tall person on the left may represent tenured faculty, who experienced plenty of financial support and opportunities for research without the calamity wrought by a global pandemic. Some fortunate assistant professors may be like the person in the middle, lacking that same support yet possessing research programs and personal privileges that enable them to weather the pandemic’s effects. And other assistant professors, perhaps especially women and members of racial/ethnic minorities, may be so burdened by the pandemic’s demands that they are like the person on the right who can’t see over the fence.

The solution offered by the ADVANCE team is to extend the tenure clock, and the University of Massachusetts isn’t alone in that recommendation. Several universities, including my own, are enacting similar policies (University of Washington, for example). The logic seems to run along these lines: Perhaps the tenure and promotion guidelines recommend ten publications in peer-reviewed journals, but due to the pandemic, an assistant professor will only have eight publications by the time the clock expires. An extra year could make up for the year lost to the pandemic, enabling them to reach that threshold of ten publications.

At first glance, this may appear like equity as depicted in the picture—faculty receive more time than usual, in the hope that after that bonus year they’ll rise to the standard. Although well intentioned, this solution may not work for all tenure-track faculty, and it may facilitate inequity rather than curbing it.

Tenure and promotion mean many things in the life of a professor. Promotion often brings a pay raise, perhaps a substantial one. Beyond finances, obtaining tenure affords status and prestige in one’s discipline. It brings greater freedom to express opinions on controversial matters, both academic and institutional. Of course, it affords job security, which is becoming ever rarer in academia and may be under particular threat during the pandemic.

Delaying tenure means delaying all of these things. Even a retroactive pay bump, which the ADVANCE team suggests, doesn’t fully ameliorate that. Moreover, an extra year on the clock may not be enough to revive research programs strongly affected by the pandemic.

An extra year fails to acknowledge the challenging work assistant professors have already given to their universities. The current cohort of tenure-track faculty, which is more racially diverse than cohorts in the past, has shifted their research to teaching and service, and done so quickly and unexpectedly. Many have done this while navigating increased demands in their personal lives. Resources and opportunities for scholarship are more limited than they were even a year ago. For some, the pandemic may make it difficult or impossible to restart their prior research programs.

And yet their tenured colleagues and administrators, a less diverse group who did not face these challenges, still wants to hold today’s assistant professors to the same standard of productivity. Perhaps that is like the person on the left wondering why the person on the right can’t see the game. Giving a year extension may be like handing that person a pair of binoculars rather than a box on which to stand.

Although a year delay in the tenure clock may serve the interests of some faculty, for others it is an incomplete solution that ‘rewards’ overworked faculty, who may feel the effects of burnout, with the ‘opportunity’ to do another year of work before they receive the fruit of their labor.

A more equitable solution might consider the faculty member’s individual circumstances, including the nature of their research program and the effect of the pandemic on it. Institutions could require faculty members to include a statement about this in their tenure and promotion application (and ask those evaluating the application to consider it). Likewise, external review letters might include that information, as well as guidance on how the pandemic has influenced the institution’s research support and work priorities.

An alternative approach has received little consideration, as far as I can tell: Rather than affording faculty an extra year to reach the standard, perhaps it is time to reconsider the standard in light of our unusual circumstances.

A recent article quoted Dominique Baker, assistant professor of education policy at Southern Methodist University: “What difference does it make if we say, ‘Instead of having 20 publications, you need to have 15’? We have total control over what this looks like, and if we don’t want people to be burned out, why don’t we adjust our expectations a bit in light of what’s happening around us?”

One objection involves the precedent this might create. To that point, for the sake of equity, perhaps we should reconsider standards again if we ever encounter another situation as pervasive, deleterious, and demanding as the pandemic. Another objection could be that relaxing tenure standards may weaken the perceived prestige of the school, but this line of thought conflates research output with faculty quality. When circumstances improve, so will productivity of all faculty.

Some might observe that delaying tenure could help university budgets in the short term during a time of fiscal crisis. Yet balancing institutional finances on the backs of junior faculty would serve as clear evidence of inequity across professional ranks and roles.

During the pandemic, assistant professors have shouldered much of the labor that is keeping universities afloat in these turbulent waters. Considering all possible ways to adjust the tenure process equitably signals to assistant professors that universities value that work. For many, and particularly those from traditionally underrepresented groups, such adjustments could be the stack of boxes that will let them see the game. Without such equity, we risk diminishing the future contributions of an entire generation of assistant professors.

Further report on TCU compensation

During the 2019-20 academic year, TCU’s Faculty Senate endorsed a report finding that TCU’s full-time faculty compensation lags behind other nationally-ranked private universities.

The AAUP recently released new data on faculty compensation, so a subsequent analysis examined that data to see if that was still the case. This analysis also considered data from IRS Form 990 filings to get a fuller picture of compensation across the comparison schools.

The Board of Trustees’ decision to permanently reduce employee compensation (by reducing the retirement contribution rate by over 30%) also motivated the report. An Open Letter expresses faculty/staff concern about this decision, and as of this writing that Open Letter has been signed by almost 40% of full-time TCU faculty.

The full report (which serves as an addition to the 2019-20 Senate report) is available here. TCU 360 has also published an article that summarizes and visualizes some of the data presented in the report.

The report offers the following summary: “The reduction in the retirement contribution further diminishes TCU’s lackluster compensation packages in comparison to other nationally-ranked private universities. In contrast, recent history indicates that TCU has spent lavishly on the compensation of executive and athletic officers, at levels exceeding almost all other comparison schools.”

COVID Learning Options for the Fall: Just a Few, Simple, Possible Scenarios

After reading and hearing about possibilities for the fall semester, both in the higher ed and K-12 worlds, I think I finally have a grasp on the scenarios I and my students might face in the coming months. As I understand it, in order to be competent and caring instructors, all we need to do is develop syllabi for each of the following possible futures:

  1. Everyone is back on campus, likely wearing masks, but otherwise things are “back to normal,” with face-to-face classes.
  2. Similar to #1, but there is still a cap on large gatherings, so big courses may need special adjustments.
  3. Health guidance doesn’t allow students to return to campus, so everything is online again, as it was in Spring 2020.
  4. All classes are broadcast online, so that some students are in class on campus, but other students can watch online if they choose not to come to campus.
  5. There’s a COVID outbreak in the late fall, so we start a week early and end at Thanksgiving.
  6. There’s a COVID outbreak in the early fall, so we start late and end just before the New Year’s Day ball drops in Times Square.
  7. There’s a COVID outbreak in the middle of the fall, so we push back the fall semester into the spring, and the spring semester into the summer.
  8. We decrease residency on campus by bringing smaller numbers of students to campus in waves, while others learn at a distance.
  9. Same as #8, but an advanced machine learning algorithm uses contact tracing data to determine which students and faculty are most at risk and moves them back and forth between online and face-to-face sections across the course of the semester; pretty cool.
  10. Same as #9, but the machine learning algorithm achieves true artificial intelligence and tries to take over the world; learning must continue while trying to avoid its killer deathbots [not cool].
  11. Bring only first-year students on campus; everyone else learns from a distance.
  12. Bring only the seniors to campus so they can enjoy their final year; hope scientists invent a vaccine for senioritis, too.
  13. Online instruction for the first half of the semester, but around Fall Break a skateboarding teenager travels back in time and stops the COVID outbreak from ever happening in the first place (and, after a scare, ensures his parents still fall in love); instruction continues face-to-face after that.
  14. Same as #13, but the teenager carelessly leaves a sports almanac in the past, enabling an unscrupulous bully to attain vast financial power through gambling; ensure equity of instructional access despite severe economic disparities among students.
  15. A COVID outbreak occurs in the tech industry and the Internet shuts down; stock up on paper, papyrus, stamps, envelopes, and maybe homing pigeons so distance learning can continue.
  16. Naturally enforce social distancing by having all classes meet between 3 and 6 am; only the most dedicated students (and faculty) will show up.
  17. Daycares and K-12 remain shut down but higher ed can open; prepare face-to-face lectures so they are equally engaging for toddlers, teenagers, traditional-aged college students, and non-traditional learners.
  18. Same as #17, but higher ed remains online only too; let the kids use their Tik Tok prowess to spice up the Zoom lectures with group dances to music “from the 70s to now!”
  19. Same as #9 and #18, but the artificial intelligence takes over Zoom; conduct course lectures in a new language the instructor invents so the AI can’t decipher it and gain new knowledge.
  20. Consolidate some learning in large online lectures, but then have students meet one-on-one with faculty, like an honors tutorial; to compensate for their extreme fatigue, the university will install permanent caffeine IV drips in faculty members’ arms.
  21. Hold classes in virtual reality; is Second Life still around? Or can we adapt Minecraft or Fortnite for that?
  22. Same as #21, but include a fun optional sidequest where students can use their nerd knowledge to discover the location of three keys and three gates that lead to an Easter egg hidden deep in the virtual world.
  23. COVID triggers a total meltdown of the world sociopolitical order, leading to poverty, anarchy, riots, famine, and worldwide nuclear war. As humanity enters a Dark Age that might last for millennia, be sure students know how to contact the professor, how to use the course management software, and how they can demonstrate measurable achievement of learning outcomes, even if both instructors and students are hiding deep in underground bunkers.
  24. Same as #23, but an authoritarian regime arises and starts forcing young adults into arena battles to the death. Consider how students who are reaped for the games can nevertheless experience equal access to high-quality active learning experiences that meet accreditation standards.
  25. “HighAdapt” option that blends any of #1-#24; if the university had to switch fluidly between any of these options with little advance notice, what would we do? How would we enact flexibility while still achieving course learning outcomes? Of course, the important thing is to have a plan that covers all possible scenarios; we need to assume responsibility for student learning, because why would we ask them to be responsible for it? That would go against everything that college should be about.

Finally, I also note that this extra planning requires just a bit more work from faculty, and so those without tenure may have to put research and creative activity on hold for awhile. That’s OK; because if faculty can’t get to their scholarship, the university is more than happy to push back the tenure clock by a year or two. In exchange for the professor’s extra teaching labor, certainly the university can delay the opportunity for financial reward, professional growth, and career stability; that’s really the only fair thing to do.

TCU Faculty Compensation Analysis Across Nationally-Ranked Private Universities

I currently serve as the chair of the Faculty Relations Committee, which is a subcommittee of the TCU Faculty Senate. I also serve as a member of the University Compensation Advisory Committee (UCAC). Earlier this year, TCU’s Chancellor visited UCAC  and indicated that TCU’s current employee benefits package is “too rich to be sustainable,” and charged us with developing a benefits package for future employees that is both fiscally sustainable and competitive.

In response to this charge, I and the Faculty Relations Committee prepared this report, which examines TCU’s faculty compensation levels (both salary and benefits) across private universities nationally ranked by US News and World Report. If you want a one-page summary of the report, you can find that on the first page.

On November 7, 2019, the TCU Faculty Senate endorsed this report by vote with the following statement: “The TCU Faculty Senate endorses the Faculty Relations Committee’s Compensation Analysis Report as evidence that (a) TCU’s benefits are not too rich and that (b) to be competitive, compensation levels should not be reduced for current or future faculty.”

I offer this here because many have expressed interest in the report. I hope that we can all work together to be good stewards of TCU’s resources and to make TCU the best place it can be.

TCU Faculty Relations Committee Compensation Analysis Report

Call for Special Issue of Communication Monographs: “Theorizing Social Media”

Guest Editor: Dr. Andrew M. Ledbetter
Texas Christian University

Communication Monographs invites submissions for a special issue on theorizing social media. As a term, “social media” encompasses a broad range of technologies, but for the purposes of this special issue, we use Ellison and boyd’s (2013) definition of social network sites as a starting point: “a networked communication platform in which participants 1) have uniquely identifiable profiles that consist of user-supplied content, content provided by other users, and/or system-level data; 2) can publicly articulate connections that can be viewed and traversed by others; and 3) can consume, produce, and/or interact with streams of user-generated content provided by their connections on the site” (p. 158). Although social media encompasses a range of technologies beyond social network sites proper, the purpose of this special issue is to consider and theorize those technologies that constitute “social media” apps and websites in popular discourse. As social media enjoys widespread use yet receives significant public concern, the time is ripe for communication scholars to develop and refine theoretical approaches to social media.

Submitted manuscripts should accomplish at least one of three aims. First, submissions may develop new theoretical approaches to social media (or continue to advance nascent theoretical approaches). Second, submissions may refine existing theories of online communication in light of the nature of social media. Third, submissions may use social media to extend or alter theories developed in non-technological/offline contexts. All submissions should use empirical data to pursue one or more of these theoretical goals. So long as the work contributes meaningfully to the theorizing of social media, we welcome submissions across diverse contextual areas and methodological approaches in the communication discipline, including but not limited to interpersonal and relational communication, organizational and group communication, health communication, family communication, communication and technology, mass communication, political communication, language and social interaction, intercultural communication, cultural studies, and rhetorical field studies.

Submissions may begin on January 1, 2020 and should be submitted online at Communication Monograph’s Manuscript Central site http://www.mc.manuscriptcentral.com/rcmm. New users should first create an account. Once a user is logged onto the site, submissions should be made via the Author Center. Authors should take special care to format their documents in MS-word in a PC-compatible version. Questions about the special issue should be directed to the guest editor at a.ledbetter@tcu.edu. All other questions related to the journal, its editorial policies, or the submission process can be directed to the editor at cm@tcu.edu or at p.schrodt@tcu.edu

Deadline for submission: May 1, 2020

Ellison, N. B. & boyd, d. (2013). Sociality through social network sites. In W. H. Dutton’s (Ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Internet Studies (pp. 151-172). Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press.

PDF version of the call: Theorizing Social Media

Yes, Ideological Bias in Academia is Real, and Communication Scholars Must Help Solve the Problem

The National Communication Association invited me to write an essay for the association magazine (Spectra) on ideological bias within academia and the communication discipline. Unfortunately, Spectra is not accessible to those without an NCA login; but fortunately, the agreement I signed with NCA permits me to post it here.

I am deeply grateful to those who took time to contribute their stories, to read the essay and offer feedback, and encourage me along the way. Let me especially mention my appreciation for George Yancey of University of North Texas, who is mentioned at some length here, who graciously took the time to offer his thoughts on the article.

I hope this piece motivates all of us to create ideologically welcoming communities, to understand each other better, and to find ways to work together across lines of ideological difference.


I am grateful that NCA invited me to write this essay on “what some have called the chilling effect of ‘liberal’ academia on freedom of expression among conservative professors and students.” As a social scientist, I think of this as two related empirical questions: What is the political tilt of academia? And, does that political tilt silence conservative voices? Fortunately, scholars have gathered data on these questions, and so I will briefly review a few findings. Then, I will share the lived experience of some of our colleagues and suggest how we might promote ideological diversity in our discipline.

Research Evidence

To the first question: Evidence indicates political skew in academia toward the left. Over a decade ago, Gross and Simmons’s study on the American professoriate found that 44 percent identified as liberal, 47 percent as moderate, and only 9 percent as conservative, with moderates leaning center-left rather than center-right. Particularly relevant to our discipline, the greatest imbalance emerged in the social sciences (58 percent liberal, 5 percent conservative) and the humanities (52 percent liberal, 4 percent conservative). Their monograph, although published only online, has received more than 100 citations since 2007. More recent peer-reviewed research on party affiliation suggests that the imbalance has widened. In a 2016 article published in Econ Journal Watch, Mitchell Langbert and his co-authors found that registered faculty Democrats outnumbered Republicans by 11.5 to 1 overall, and in Communication/Journalism, by 20 to 1. In many departments, members of minor liberal parties (such as the Green Party) are more common than Republicans. Academia leans to the left, and the Communication discipline is no exception.

And so, to the second question: What is the effect of this ideological tilt? The literature has focused on two competing hypotheses for why the imbalance exists: that conservatives self-select out of academia, or that conservatives experience bias that deters them. As sociologist George Yancey has contended, these explanations are not mutually exclusive. Both likely occur, yet the available evidence indicates that political bias against conservatives is no trivial concern. I only have space to summarize a few key findings here, but interested readers would benefit from exploring Heterodox Academy, which advocates for ideological diversity in university life.

  • In a study published in 2012 in Perspectives on Psychological Science, Inbar and Lammers asked psychological scholars about their perception of academia’s political climate. Liberals reported the least hostile climate (1.9 on a seven-point scale), moderates significantly more (3.7), and conservatives the most hostile (4.7). The more a scholar moves away from a liberal identity, the more ideological heat she or he perceives.
  • That study also found that some liberal professors admitted willingness to engage in bias that would harm the career of conservative academics: “Hostility toward and willingness to discriminate against conservatives is widespread. One in six respondents said that she or he would be somewhat (or more) inclined to discriminate against conservatives in inviting them for symposia or reviewing their work. One in four would discriminate in reviewing their grant applications. More than one in three would discriminate against them when making hiring decisions.”
  • Jussim, writing in the same journal in response to Inbar and Lammers, acknowledged the privilege he enjoys as a liberal academic, including: “If I apply for a job, I can be confident my political views are more likely to be an asset than liability”; “I can avoid spending time with colleagues who mistrust me because of my politics”; “I will feel welcomed and ‘normal’ in the usual walks of my academic life.”
  • Yancey, Reimer, and O’Connell, writing in 2015 in Sociology of Religion, found that academia can be particularly hostile to religious conservatives. Yancey testified to his own experience in an article published in The Stream: “Indeed when I read academic literature about my faith it is like I am reading about some alien I cannot recognize. Its description of conservative Christians is often some bizarre caricature of the worst of my faith.”
  • Yancey’s empirical work has further documented bias that conservatives (religious and otherwise) face in academia, particularly in the processes of hiring, promotion, and tenure. Like Inbar and Lammers, he conducted direct surveys of academics, finding that about half would be less likely to hire a conservative Protestant, about 40 percent someone who is part of the NRA, and about a third someone who is a Republican. In contrast, being a member of a liberal group such as the ACLU is seen as an asset.

I am not claiming that these are perfect studies (no study is), or that all progressive scholars hold bias against conservatives (clearly not). Nor am I claiming that anti-conservative bias explains 100 percent of the variance in the political affiliation of scholars in our discipline or elsewhere. That would be absurd. Yet, given the evidence, I am persuaded that it would be even more absurd to claim an effect size of 0 percent. As Yancey put it in a Patheos article, some progressive scholars tend to “focus on self-selection with a slight nod to the possibility of bias. This is exactly opposite from what our empirical evidence has told us.”

Also, the reality of anti-conservative bias does not discount the very real threats to academic freedom experienced by my progressive colleagues. Even as we disagree on ideology and public policy, we should stand together against all threats to ideological diversity, from whatever part of the political continuum they arise.

I encourage those interested to check out these and other sources. I especially encourage my liberal colleagues to do this because, as Yancey noted when I spoke with him recently in a public forum, some progressive scholars disregard claims of ideological bias, despite their abiding concern for other forms of discrimination.

Lived Experience

I am unaware of any study of political bias that focuses exclusively on our discipline. So, to document such bias and vivify the claims above, I invited members of our discipline to share their experiences anonymously. With their permission, here are a few stories I heard:

  • “During my first job interview for a tenure-track position, I sat through an uncomfortable meal where a senior faculty member, assuming I was liberal, openly mocked economic beliefs that I hold. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just kind of smiled and nodded.”
  • “I haven’t been to NCA in years. As a conservative woman, there is no space for me there.”
  • “When I was in graduate school, the Department Chair got up and started talking about how stupid Republicans are. I remember being shocked that the Chair was using a position of power to degrade others.”
  • “During a campus visit at a potential graduate school, I wore a cross necklace. A faculty member pointed it out and said, ‘Cross necklace? You aren’t welcome here.’ This interaction almost deterred me from pursuing any sort of graduate education.”
  • “I wrote an article on conservative artistic performances that the Editor responded to with high praise, followed by a request for a few revisions. After I made the requested revisions, the Editor rejected it. He told me that he wanted to publish the article, but that the conservative content of the performances had so offended the other members of his editorial staff that he ‘dared not run it’ lest he have to deal with a ‘full blown revolution.’”
  • “Political bias is one reason I left academia soon after receiving my doctorate.”
  • “When I write papers that suggest liberal bias in the media, they get rejected, and so I now write about other things. In a world where promotion is determined by publication/presentation rate, I have no desire to spend more time writing articles that will never see daylight.”
  • “As a graduate student, I remember being told at a conference that I couldn’t be a critical/cultural scholar because I had a Christian worldview.”
  • “Before I had tenure, a senior professor who knew my political leanings jokingly referred to me as ‘a Nazi.’ This occurred in front of students.”

I know we would be concerned (and rightly so) if we were to hear such lived experiences from other groups. Those concerns should be no less when the stories pertain to ideological diversity.

Promoting Ideological Diversity in the Discipline

So then, what should we do to foster ideological diversity in the Communication discipline? I’ve heard a variety of ideas from conservatives and concerned progressives. Here are a few actionable suggestions that, to me at least, seem to flow from the available evidence.

  1. As a small but important first step, admit the reality. If a conservative scholar shares an experience of bias with you, they’re probably taking a brave step. Don’t minimize that. They’re showing you a remarkable degree of trust. Also don’t assume that all conservatives are alike; like liberals, we’re a diverse bunch. So listen. Even if you can’t affirm their beliefs, affirm their humanity and academic freedom. More generally, our field would benefit from the kind of discussion about political bias that Jonathan Haidt has spearheaded in Social Psychology.
  1. Affirm ideological diversity when you have the opportunity to do so. I find the statement that Heterodox Academy asks its members to sign to be a helpful one that resonates with NCA’s Credo for Free and Responsible Communication in a Democratic Society: “I believe that university life requires that people with diverse viewpoints and perspectives encounter each other in an environment where they feel free to speak up and challenge each other. I am concerned that many academic fields and universities currently lack sufficient viewpoint diversity—particularly political diversity. I will support viewpoint diversity in my academic field, my university, my department, and my classroom.” Scholars who agree may want to join — it’s easy, free, and a gateway to good conversation among scholars with diverse disciplinary and political orientations.
  1. Refrain from assumptions of political homogeneity in the discipline. This is perhaps nowhere so true in our discipline as partisan political statements passed in the form of NCA resolutions. Let us be candid: These have no discernible impact on public policy. As a Texan myself, I can assure you that the 2017 convention has come and gone and has made no difference in Texas politics. But some events there may speak volumes to conservatives in our field, particularly those who lack the academic privilege that comes with publication success and tenure. As one graduate student voiced after an e-mail from the NCA leadership ahead of the Dallas convention, “Can we maintain membership at NCA in light of this statement?” I look forward to a world where our students never have to ask that question, no matter their political stripe.
  1. Use online fora judiciously. For all their benefits, we know that online spaces can tempt us to engage in communication that dehumanizes others. Whatever strengths it may have, I am not convinced that the Communication listserv CRTNET has served as a healthy venue for political discussion. Perhaps more substantive online conversation could be facilitated by communication technologies newer than 1980s-style e-mail listservs.
  1. Purposefully build warm relationships with those whose beliefs differ from your own. To be utterly clear and emphatic: Over the course of my career, my relationships with progressive colleagues and friends have been overwhelmingly positive rather than negative. When we talk politics, the conversations may be animated, but most of the time they occur in a spirit of mutual respect. Often, we aren’t talking about politics at all, but about our personal lives or mutual professional interests regarding Communication research, theory, and pedagogy. And, indeed, such research tells us that intergroup contact reduces bias.

I believe NCA has the social capital and goodwill among its membership to address ideological bias. Some of my conservative colleagues do not share that optimism, but a panel at the 2017 convention gave me hope. Organized by then First Vice President Ronald L. Jackson II, co-sponsored by the Public Dialogue and Deliberation Division, and chaired by Laura Black (Ohio University) and Leah Sprain (University of Colorado, Boulder), the panel addressed public dialogue and polarization within NCA and featured scholars from diverse political orientations. People spoke candidly, but respectfully, and I think we all gained insight from the discussion. I see no reason why that spirit of goodwill amid disagreement cannot extend to the entire association, our departments, and the discipline.

Our discipline possesses a wealth of scholarship about effective communication across lines of difference. We can apply this knowledge to foster ideological diversity within our discipline—and then, if we are so inclined, we can turn and use that knowledge to help other disciplines solve this trans-disciplinary problem.


(This article is reprinted from an article that originally appeared in the March 2018 issue of Spectra magazine, a publication of the National Communication Association. All rights reserved.)

Additional information on moderating effect of mother/father conservatism (Ledbetter, 2015, Journal of Family Communication)

A forthcoming issue of Journal of Family Communication will contain an article reporting a study of (a) family communication patterns, (b) participant political philosophy, and (c) evaluation of the credibility of the two major candidates in the 2012 U.S. presidential election.

During the review process, a reviewer inquired how the political orientation of the mother/father might influence study results. This is a good question, but one that my data were not well-positioned to answer, as I did not collect data directly from the mother and father. I simply asked participants for their perception of their mother’s and father’s political beliefs, which obviously may be confounded with the participant’s own political beliefs (e.g., a highly liberal participant may see a moderate parent as more conservative than s/he actually is).

Nevertheless, I ran a post hoc analysis using participant perceptions of their parents’ political philosophy as moderators. A footnote reports these results briefly:

Specifically, I analyzed two conditional process models (Hayes, 2013), whereby mother and father political philosophy moderated the associations in the model. To summarize, these models exhibited the following differences and similarities with the model reported in the main study: (a) Conversation orientation remained a positive predictor of both participant conservatism and Romney’s credibility; (b) Participant conservatism remained a positive predictor of Romney’s credibility and an inverse predictor of Obama’s credibility; (c) Conformity orientation ceased to be a positive predictor of participant conservatism, although it now inversely predicted Obama’s credibility (or, in the mother model, nearly so, p = .059); (d) Conversation and conformity no longer interacted to predict Obama’s credibility. Almost no evidence emerged for moderated mediation, except for a significant interaction between father conservatism and conversation orientation on participant conservatism (p < .05). Decomposition revealed that the positive effect of conversation orientation was limited to conservative fathers. For liberal fathers, high conversation children tend to have a liberal political philosophy, yet their philosophy is just as liberal as if they had come from a low conversation orientation family. The main effects for parental political philosophy were limited to participant political philosophy and, with the exception of mother’s political philosophy as a predictor of Romney’s credibility, did not extend to candidate credibility. Taking this post hoc analysis overall, it is noteworthy that the associations for conversation orientation remained intact. Thus, incorporating parental political philosophy seems to most alter the effect of conformity orientation, which may be unsurprising given the historical and conceptual affinity between conservatism and conformity. Nevertheless, these results are reported here tentatively, as this study did not directly measure the parents’ political philosophy.

Here, I’d like to provide a bit more detail than I could in the journal article. First, here’s the graphical decomposition of the father conservatism X conversation orientation interaction effect:

dad_conv_interact

And here are the standardized regression parameters for the FATHER conditional process model:

PREDICTING PARTICIPANT CONSERVATIVISM:
Conversation orientation: .16*
Conformity orientation: .12
Conversation X Conformity: -.04
Mother’s conservatism: .44**
Father’s conservatism: .19**
Father’s conservatism X Conversation: .14*
Father’s conservatism X Conformity: -.01
Father’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: .04
Participant age: .06
Student status: .15**

PREDICTING OBAMA’S CREDIBILITY:
Conversation orientation: -.07
Conformity orientation: -.17*
Conversation X Conformity: -.08
Participant’s conservatism: -.61**
Mother’s conservatism: -.06
Father’s conservatism: .14
Father’s conservatism X Conversation: -.02
Father’s conservatism X Conformity: -.07
Father’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: .02
Father’s conservatism X participant’s conservatism: .07
Participant age: -.11
Student status: -.14*

PREDICTING ROMNEY’S CREDIBILITY:
Conversation orientation: .29**
Conformity orientation: .07
Conversation X Conformity: .06
Participant’s conservatism: .56**
Mother’s conservatism: .21**
Father’s conservatism: -.06
Father’s conservatism X Conversation: .03
Father’s conservatism X Conformity: .08
Father’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: -.02
Father’s conservatism X participant’s conservatism: -.08
Participant age: .10
Student status: .12*

And also, the standardized regression parameters for the MOTHER conditional process model:

PREDICTING PARTICIPANT CONSERVATIVISM:
Conversation orientation: .15*
Conformity orientation: .10
Conversation X Conformity: -.04
Mother’s conservatism: .47**
Father’s conservatism: .18*
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation: .10
Mother’s conservatism X Conformity: -.02
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: -.003
Participant age: .07
Student status: .15*

PREDICTING OBAMA’S CREDIBILITY:
Conversation orientation: -.06
Conformity orientation: -.15
Conversation X Conformity: -.10
Participant’s conservatism: -.61**
Mother’s conservatism: -.05
Father’s conservatism: .14
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation: .003
Mother’s conservatism X Conformity: -.06
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: -.04
Mother’s conservatism X participant’s conservatism: .05
Participant age: -.11
Student status: -.13*

PREDICTING ROMNEY’S CREDIBILITY:
Conversation orientation: .26**
Conformity orientation: .05
Conversation X Conformity: .06
Participant’s conservatism: .56**
Mother’s conservatism: .20**
Father’s conservatism: -.04
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation: .02
Mother’s conservatism X Conformity: -.01
Mother’s conservatism X Conversation X Conformity: -.04
Mother’s conservatism X participant’s conservatism: -.03
Participant age: .10
Student status: .11*

The Palantír Effect

I’m almost finished with a re-read of The Lord of the Rings. Wow, what an amazing novel! (I’ll call it a ‘novel’, singular, because Tolkien really wrote it as a single book, which his publisher later split into three.) I’ve seen so much more in the books as an adult than I did as a high schooler. One of those things I’ve gained is a name—a name for an effect of communication technology that I’ve talked about for years with my students.

To explain the effect, here’s a little quiz. Can you name:

  1. Your city’s mayor?
  2. Your representative to your state legislature?
  3. The important news stories in your local area?
  4. Your next door neighbors?

Maybe you’re one of the few that knows a lot about each of these. But that’s not most of us. Although I don’t have statistics to back this up, my guess is that the average person knows more about the president than they do their own mayor (I mean, at least they can name the president!), and more about their Facebook friends than they do about their neighbors.

This is the effect: communication technology shifts our attention from the local to the distant. I now call it the palantír effect.

What is a palantír (plural palantíri)? In The Lord of the Rings, it is a magical sphere. The person who looks into one can see things far away and communicate with someone who holds another palantír. In Middle-earth, only seven palantíri exist. In our earth, I think we each carry a little palantír in our purse or pocket.

Yes, part of the reason I like this metaphor is because I am a fantasy/sci-fi geek at heart… I can’t deny that. I also like the moral complexity of the metaphor. In Tolkien’s work, we see both good and bad effects of the use of palantíri. Regarding good, Aragorn used a palantír to see a dangerous military attack from the sea and took action to defeat it. He also used it to distract Sauron from Frodo’s quest. Earlier in the history of Middle-earth, a kingdom used the palantirí to facilitate communication and control across a vast territory. Likewise, communication technology allows us to coordinate activities across a distance. Anyone who’s ever had to ask a significant other what they were supposed to pick up at the grocery store knows this to be true.

On the other hand, communication technology may also focus our attention away from local matters we can address toward distant but fascinating problems we can do nothing about. (Have you heard anything about Ferguson, MO recently? Can you actually *do* anything about problems in Ferguson, MO? Yeah, me neither.) In Lord of the Rings, Denethor, the steward of the kingdom of Gondor, serves as the most potent example of this. Disturbed by images of distant armies, he despairs and concedes defeat, even to the point of ignoring the simple things he can do to protect his people and save his only living son.

Let me be clear that I’m not talking about time; I’m talking about attention. Some scholarship has argued that technology harms relationships because we spend time online that we could spend with local friends and family. That may happen (although research supporting that view has been weak).

However, technology may dominate our attention even when we spend a short amount of time with it. I’ve been guilty of glancing at a game of Words with Friends for a second, and then turning possible moves over and over in my mind for the next hour while I do other non-tech things. Likewise, Denethor didn’t spend much time using his palantír, but it controlled his emotions and decisions during every moment of the day.

This semester, as I teach my course on social media and personal relationships, I curious what my students will think: when does the palantír effect occur, when is it good, when is it bad, and who is most susceptible to it? Not easy questions, but perhaps important ones. In Middle-earth, the ability to harness the power of the palantíri for good helped save the day, whereas misuse of them nearly brought utter ruin.

Yes, Tolkien wrote decades before the age of Twitter and texting, But my re-read has taught me that, in the regard and others, perhaps his Middle-earth isn’t so different from our world after all.

 

“All That is Gold Does Not Glitter” for the social scientist

While teaching my final graduate-level quantitative research methods class yesterday, one of my students asked about how a person can know whether they should study quantitative or qualitative methods. A very good question.

In response, another of my students quoted Tolkien: “Not all those who wander are lost.” A good response to a good question!

And it got me thinking–especially since I’m re-reading Lord of the Rings right now–what might the famous “All That is Gold Does Not Glitter” poem look like, if written for a social scientific audience?

Here is my attempt at it, by way of footnotes to the original poem:

All this is gold does not glitter(1),
Not all those who wander are lost(2),
The old that is strong does not wither(3),
Deep roots are not reached by the frost(4).

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king(5).

(1) Please note that the data supporting this claim are cross-sectional in nature, and thus these results serve only as weak evidence of causation. Only future experimental and/or longitudinal research can determine whether goldenness causes lack of glittering, lack of glittering causes goldenness, or whether the apparent association is spurious due to a third factor unmeasured in this investigation.

(2) Stated more formally: H(0): Wandering is not significantly associated with being lost; H(A): Wandering is significantly associated with being lost.

(3) I.e., strength significantly moderates the extent to which age predicts withering. The moderating effect of other demographic variables could not be examined due to lack of statistical power.

(4) p < .08.

(5) We offer these practical applications only tentatively(6), and these possible applications should be evaluated further in clinical and/or applied contexts.

(6) “Thanks” to the anonymous reviewer who demanded we include such a practical application section before s/he would recommend accepting this for publication.