Exploring Interdisciplinarity

Why do I need to learn theory? I want to be a practitioner. So said one of my students in my class on Networks and International Development. A good question, to be sure, and one which–as I could tell by their nodding faces– many of my other students were pondering as well.

Why do I need to learn theory? I want to be a practitioner. A good question to be sure! 

My first response was to draw upon James Rosenau, and his eloquent justification of theory, provided in the introduction to his book, The Scientific Study of Foreign Policy (1989). As in my case, questioning students had plucked a chord in him, inspiring Rosenau to spell out the benefits and approaches entailed in employing theory as a basis for studying empirical questions. Rosenau makes, what to me are, two really important points. The first aims to help the student think theoretically: practice going up the ladder of abstraction, he says. Ask yourself what your concern is an instance of. As Rosenau notes, rarely do we become interested in isolated events; more often than not, our puzzles are instances of more generalizable, abstract phenomenon–we just haven’t thought about them this way. The second point is just as inspiring. Theory, says Rosenau, is fun.

I couldn’t agree more. Of course, I am the first to acknowledge that theories are essential as a means of organizing ideas, providing coherence to an argument, and allowing comparisons among diverse situations. But theories are also, and -as importantly–capsules of prior knowledge, a shorthand–if you will–of the wisdom of the ages. Nonetheless, theories are not to be accepted at face value; rather they are to be challenged, from every possible perspective, as in a game of skill.

Theories are to be challenged, as in a game of skill

Hence, I like to think of theories not in terms of their truth, but rather in terms of their potentiality. What do they suggest to me, which I might have overlooked. Just as when I go to a clothing store, and see all of the outfits laid out on a rack, I try theories on for size. Does the dress fit? Does it enhance my looks? Is it consistent with the rest of my wardrobe? If not, I leave it on the rack for someone else to fill it out.

I wonder, in fact, what would I do without theory. For example, tomorrow I leave for Beijing to deliver a presentation on Standard Setting: Meeting the Global Challenge, at a conference sponsored by the National Bureau of Asian Research. While I started out with a general idea for the presentation, I was struggling with the question of how I might apply my analysis to the specific case of China, and–more specifically– to developing an appropriate standards strategy that China might pursue.

As good fortune would have it, our reading for class was Sidney Tarrow’s New Transnational Activism–the very same book that provoked my student’s question about theory. But, herein was the clue to my puzzle: Tarrow’s theoretical discussion suggested that the architecture of our increasingly international society provides opportunities for newcomers to exercise agency in contexts/interstices that are as yet underdeveloped. Based on my analysis of global standards, and Tarrow’s theory about transnational activism, I could identify–as depicted in the table below– just where the standards opportunities for China might lie.

The pudding, it seems to me, proves the point. Theory can, indeed, serve very practical needs!

On Technorati: China, economic development, global standards, James Rosenau, ladder of abstraction, Tarrow, why theory

I have been thinking about interstices a lot these days–that is, ever since one of the Chinese students in my Networks and International Development Class protested that, given institutional lock-in, reforms could never come about in China. I gently begged to disagree. As I told her, and as we had discussed in class, in a networked society, small changes in any one part of the system can have major ramifications throughout. As important, by focusing on these small changes in the interstices of a social order, reformers could remain under the radar, and thereby circumvent the powers that be. The key for those of us who want to bring about change today is to identify the most promising interstices.

The key for those of us who want to bring about change today is to identify the most promising interstices.

Somewhat skeptical, the student persisted, asking for examples. So I provided an account of how the rise of cities in the Middle Ages helped to undermine the European feudal order (Braudel 1992).

It so happened that I was well prepared for the task, having listened only a few days before to a lecture on tape by Professor Teofilo F. Ruiz, in the series Medieval Europe: Crisis and Renewal, which was sponsored by The Teaching Company. As the lecturer had pointed out, although late Medieval cities originally emerged as an off-shoot of feudal land holders, they eventually took on a new, and transformative, life of their own.

In fact, with the rise of commerce and the city merchants that promoted it, Europe was never the same. This new merchant society, which was based on the accumulation of wealth and industrial performance, gave rise to a new class–the bourgeoise–as well as new institutions –such as the guilds– that sought not only to restrict the powers of the nobility but also to extend the social order outside of the parameters of the feudal world itself.

Where are the critical interstices in our global society today? Recent events in Iran provide a clue. Just as, during the Middle Ages, cities went relatively unnoticed as they developed the commercial resources that allowed them to overturn the prevailing social order, so today Iranian hackers have managed to develop the kinds of net-savvy skills required to create a protest movement in an interstitial, virtual space, making it possible for them to outwit a very powerful and seemingly entrenched regime. As described by Murad Ahmed, writing in The Times Online, June 18, 2009:

It has come as a surprise to many, not least to Iran’s regime, just how effectively the country’s young population has been able to articulate and organize [an] opposition protest on the web. New technologies have turned yesterday’s flashmob into today’s political rally. With elements of the Iranian mobile phone system disabled, the internet has become the organizing medium for the opposition and Facebook and Twitter the tools of choice to communicate and organize dissent.

Further contemplating the notion of interstices, I see a new link between some of the ideas that we discuss in my Networks and International Development class and those that we focus on in my class on The Networked Economy. In the latter, we read Ron Burt, and discuss the resources gained by an organization when it develops structural autonomy by bridging structural holes (that is, the gaps in social structure). With the recent events in Iran in mind, it seems that Burt’s notion of structural autonomy is also apropos for describing that situation. For it would appear that the interstices that I speak of in my development class are non other than Burt’s structural holes where– with a little bit of strategic networking–formidable resources and power can be cultivated.

On Technorati: Add new tag, institutional lock-in, international development, interstitial spaces, Iran, Iranian hackers, Middle Ages, Murad Ahmed, networks and international development, Ron Burt, structural autonomy, structural holes, the Teaching Company

Tomorrow, the Communication Culture and Technology Program at Georgetown University will join together with the Quello Center for Telecommunication Management and Law, Michigan State University, and the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation and University of Konstanz, Germany,
in hosting a conference on Applying Complexity Theory to Improve Communications Policy. The conference is based on the premise that the field of communication constitutes a complex adaptive system, such that we need new regulatory approaches and tools that can take this complexity into account. We plan to cover four topic areas: 1) the value added of complexity theory; 2) tools and methodology for using complexity theory; 3) applying complexity theory to national broadband policy; and 4) building support for, and incorporating, complexity theory into communications policy.

I have been thinking about how one might structure the policy environment so as to foster greater interaction of policy actors and their diverse approaches and ideas

Having been assigned the task of facilitating the final panel, I have been pondering structural approaches to promoting complexity analysis–in particular, I have been thinking about how one might structure the policy environment so as to foster greater interaction of policy actors and their diverse approaches and ideas. My assumption is that to analyze complexity adequately, the policy structure must, itself, reflect it.  Some thoughts come to mind in this regard. 

For example, building on Ron Burt’s characterization of good ideas, it would appear that policy organizations should be structured in such a way that policy actors benefit not only from strong ties among like-minded associates, but also from weak ties across diverse associations. As Burt notes:

Opinion and behavior are more homogeneous within than between groups so people connected across groups are more familiar with alternative ways of thinking and behaving, which give them more options to select and synthesize from alternatives (http://faculty.chicagobooth.edu/ronald.burt/research/SHGI.pdf)

One might conclude, therefore, that–for complexity to be attended to–the  architecture of the policy making arena must provide links across diverse policy domains. 

This conclusion coincides with the conclusions of a paper that my colleagues Ellen Surles, Qi Chen and I wrote for the Social Science Research Council, entitled Fostering a Communication Policy Dialogue: The Need for a Sustainable Communication Interface. In this paper, we adopted  John Kingdon’s description of policy making as a non-linear process, which entails the convergence of three different streams–identifying problems, identifying solutions, and making political decisions. Kingdon argues that when these streams converge there is a window of opportunity when policy outcomes can occur. In our paper, my colleagues and I sought to identify the structural properties that would allow such convergence to take place. Viewing these three policy streams as distinct worlds, each with its own habitus, we identified the need for a policy interface, that would help policy actors to communicate with one another. As we argued:

The policy debate can become inhibited and muted in part because many players lack the resources and skills to communicate across these fields of policy activities. It is especially helpful when a number of diverse actors interact and engage with one another to the extent that they create a space where they can find common ground. We call this space the policy interface. Issues rise on the policy agenda when [policy streams] converge in such a way that ideas are translated and actors come to value each other’s perspectives and therefore perceive policy issues in a congruent way.

Much as in the case of Burt’s notion of good ideas, the architecture of the interface that we described provides for both weak and strong ties.  It allowed policy actors from different activity fields to maintain their individual perspectives, while coming together in a common space where they might have a productive–and far richer–dialogue. 

The US communication policy arena lacks such an interface, and policy making suffers as a result.  Jurisdiction is divided among numerous agencies, whose independent actions often lead to conflicting outcomes.  Issues are not considered to be complex; rather they are typically reduced to approximate the specific mission of the agency in which they are resolved.  

The outstanding question, therefore, is where might we look for such a policy interface?  Not surprisingly, given my own background, I would look to a government agency such as the Office of Technology Assessment, which not only brought diverse actors together, and incorporated their perspectives in the agency’s research results. As importantly, OTA translated complex problems into narratives that both Congress and the public could grapple with.

On Technorati: broadband policy, communications policy, complexity, good ideas, John Kingdon, Office of Technology Assessment, policy interface, policy streams, Ron Burt, telecommunications

Checking our luggage on a United airplane headed for Seattle, we experienced the ultimate in unbundling.   Not only did we have to master the use of the terminal kiosk to access our boarding pass; in the process, we were offered a variety of additional features–all formerly available as part of a flight package.  Included, for example, was baggage storage,  extra leg room, an upgrade to first class, and additional miles.  In the heat of the moment, we decided we could use some extra leg-room.  Inserting our credit card into the kiosk once again, we requested additional space. Alas, we got instead extra miles–heaven only knows to where. Although the lady at the counter could not tell us the destination of these miles, nor how to make use of them, she did know that they were nonrefundable. Sympathetic to our plight, she explained: “Sorry, we have been instructed not to provide passengers much help. The airline companies want us, instead, to train the passengers to take over our jobs.”

 Sympathetic to our plight, she explained: “Sorry, we have been instructed not to give passengers much help. The airline companies want us, instead, to train the passengers to them over our jobs.”  

What a disturbing comment!  Stopping at a fast food counter, I began to ponder it. As I assembled a meal to take on the plane from among the assorted, individual food items, I was struck by what appears to be an inexorable seepage of the idea of unbundling from its origins in the divestiture of the American telephone system to the deconstruction of commonplace pleasures and practices, such as a formal lunch.

Certainly, the modularization of information and communication technologies has greatly facilitated the process of unbundling. Allowing companies to maximize their profits and differentiate their products, by charging on a service by service, item by item, basis, unbundling has been extolled by economists, such as Hal Varian and Garth Saloner, as the essence of efficiency.  As these authors argue in their book, Information Rules, unbundling promotes innovation, encourages competition, and provides for greater consumer choice. One should note, however, that these advocates make little mention of social costs.

This is not the first time that I have thought about the costs and benefits of unbundling. Having directed the OTA study, Critical Connections: Communications for the Future, I spent the eighties participating in the debates surrounding the divestiture of the Bell telephone system. Notwithstanding–or perhaps because of–the in-depth research we conducted, and the intense discussions in which we were engaged, I was never totally convinced of the wisdom of unbundling the communication system.  One book that had a significant influence on my thinking was Steve Coll’s intriguing narrative The Deal of a Century: The Breakup of At&T (1986), in which he describes the high drama and serendipitous events that led to the unexpected divestiture outcome.  These included, for example, Baxter’s bias, Green’s takeover of the case, Reagan’s absence at a critical meeting, and Brown’s unanticipated willingness to make a deal.   As a relatively young policy analyst at the time, I was shocked at what appeared to be a lack of analysis driving such a momentous decision.  I was relieved when, at the end of Coll’s book, he raised the question of social costs associated with unbundling, especially the new transaction costs that would fall to the user.

As bundling proceeds apace, encroaching on all realms of our lives, perhaps it is time to revisit its underlying rationale.  In particular, we need to reassess what is lost when all sorts of products and services are disassembled, and users are expected to put Humpty Dumpty together again.  The telephone is a prime example. At the time of divestiture, the transaction costs for users were relatively low–choosing among styles and colors, coping with jacks, and inside wiring.  As technology has advanced, however, sorting out the choices and technological complexities can befuddle even the best of us.  

Even more troubling for me, is the unbundling (or one might say disembedding) of the economic product from the context in which it is employed. The problem is well laid out in The Social Life of Information written by Paul Duguid and John Seely Brown, the book I have assigned for next week’s Networked Economy Class.  As the author’s note, just as in the case of United Airlines, businesses are increasingly substituting technology for human interaction, and with dire consequences.  What such businesses fail to recognize is that technologies can not replicate the knowledge generation, knowledge sharing and/or the norms of reciprocity and collaboration that are inherent in human interaction.  Nor do such policies foster consumer loyalty–next time for me its Southwest Air!   

 

 

 

 

On Technorati: divestiture, John Seely Brown, OTA, Paul Duguid, social life of information, The Social Life of Information, unbundling, United Airlines