Matthew Moore's survey of political theorists in U.S. American colleges and universities is an impressive contribution to political science (Moore Reference Moore2010). It is the first such survey of political theory as a subfield, the response rate is very high, and the answers to the survey questions provide new information about how political theorists look when compared to political scientists overall. We are roughly the same age, for example, and are slightly more likely to be female. The survey also gives us a picture of political theorists' conditions of employment: about half of us get jobs in the first year upon receiving our Ph.D.s; most of us teach at schools that range from 1,000 to 10,000 students; most of us are not at Ph.D.-granting institutions.

Moore's report on the survey findings also says much more than this. He writes that he hopes “the results of the survey will be the catalyst for a discussion among political theorists within the discipline more broadly about the role of theory in political science, as well as about whether we are training graduate students appropriately for the jobs that await them.” He adds, “Knowing the actual state of political theory in the discipline is the first step in deciding whether we are happy with the status quo and, if not, how we might go about changing it” (Moore Reference Moore2010, 270).

I wonder: do we really know the actual state of things? Does this—or any other survey—provide knowledge of the actual state of things? Surveys provide answers to questions, but are the questions the right ones for providing knowledge of the state of things, particularly if that state is characterized by disagreement, antagonism, and conflict at multiple levels? What sort of knowledge is at work here? What sort of things are presupposed or imagined? Moore suggests a knowledge that might be connected to change, implying a useful kind of knowledge, an instrumental or practical knowledge that can be put to use. But then we would—and should—begin to wonder about whose uses and to what ends. We begin to wonder, in other words, about what these questions do, what paths this information opens up, what it enables, sets to work, generates, or blocks.

I am concerned, then, about the uses of these statistics, these findings, about what knowing them might set in motion. I will call this the “reflexive concern.” It informs the three areas I want to discuss further. Most bluntly put, the “reflexive concern” highlights the potential repercussions and effects opened up by making political theorists' discussions with each other, the sorts of things we might say early in the morning over coffee or late at night over wine, part of the official knowledge of political science as a discipline. Those who find “reflexive concern” jargonistic might prefer the designation “paranoid concern.” That is fine with me.

First, one of the lines of inquiry in the survey concerns political theorists' sense of ourselves in the discipline. Questions in this area ask about theorists' perceptions of whether our papers are published and our panels accepted. An interesting finding here is the high degree of uncertainty among political theorists as to whether our work is given a fair chance or whether we are respected by political scientists generally. Most responded that they were not sure or did not know. Accompanying this finding are numbers that suggest that political theorists at the same time feel that our work is under-represented in the field. Well over half (close to 60%) think that what we do is not properly reflected in the discipline. The questions themselves should make us wonder: what is the discipline anyway and what does it mean for it to reflect our work? Moreover, what perspective do we take when we think from that of the discipline? What perspective does the survey implicitly ask us to take?

I want to mention a contrast here with political theorists' sense that our work is under-represented: the draftFootnote ¹ 2008–2009 annual report of the co-editors of the American Political Science Review describes normative theory as somewhat over-represented in the journal (24% of published articles were categorized as normative political theory; 26% of the articles were in comparative politics and 21% were in American politics).

This difference in perception is interesting and warrants further study. One possible location of the difference could involve differing ways of counting what theory is or of thinking about what theorists do and what “the rest of the discipline does.” There are two points here. First, is there really a “rest of the discipline” or is there a plurality, big tent, multiplicity of approaches, interests, and concerns under the heading of “political science”? If the survey implies “rest of the discipline,” is it reinforcing a methodological view that one might expect political theorists actually to reject? In other words, if political theory raises questions about the political, its foundations, the ways it changes, and the struggles through which such changes occur, then the phrase “rest of the discipline” installs a sort of boundary and rigidity already at odds with the work of political theory. Second, what about the differences among theorists? Moore usefully distinguishes between theorists at heart and theorists by necessity. I would like to know how the survey questions “co-vary” with these categories. The survey notes that fewer than 50% of the political theorists who are members of the APSA are members of the Foundations of Political Theory organized section. It would be nice to know why and whether membership correlates (co-varies) with being a theorist at heart. I also wonder whether some of the theorists at heart identify themselves more with Division 1 (History of Political Thought) or Division 3 (Normative Political Theory) and associate the organized Foundations section exclusively with Division 2 (Foundations of Political Theory). Are political theorists who identify themselves as belonging to these organized groups more or less likely to feel under-represented than, say, an Americanist who has to teach theory now and again? And what about liberal arts colleges and research universities? Is there any correlation here between feeling represented in the discipline and being in a certain kind of environment?

My first concern addresses questions of where and how political theorists fit in the discipline of political science. I turn to a second concern, one which involves the uses to which the survey might be put, particularly with regard to the training of graduate students. As he interprets his findings, Moore suggests that it could make sense for political theorists to place more emphasis on teaching than on research. Because a significant number of respondents report that teaching is a more important criterion than publication for tenure at their institutions, Moore suggests that enhancing the teaching component of graduate student training could ultimately prove more beneficial to their success in the profession. Teaching is important. Nonetheless, we should keep in mind that as the job market becomes increasingly competitive, even colleges that emphasize teaching—like liberal arts colleges—still have a choice among many qualified graduate students; the competition is fierce and having publications makes candidates stand out. Additionally, research knowledge shapes the field. If political theory sections of big departments stopped emphasizing research, could that further diminish the place of theory in the field?

At the risk of putting the matter too crudely, the bigger question here is whether the numbers that the survey provides arm the enemy, namely, those who would diminish attention to theory in graduate programs or push the view that there is somehow “too much” theory given changes in the discipline. Insofar as there are battles over the shape of the discipline and the constitution of departments, does the survey help political theorists or hurt us? What do we do with the knowledge that 72% of graduate programs do not require any theory? And what about the finding that 40% of undergraduate programs do not offer theory at all? It would be good to know how these numbers compare with other areas of political science and with the position of theory over the last couple of decades. But this is risky. It sets us on a path—neoliberal—that emphasizes outputs, growth, and efficiency. There is a risk, in other words, that these kinds of numbers could push political theorists to think that we have to justify what we do in terms of the rest of the discipline rather than in terms of the rest of the world, that is, in terms of bigger questions—like justice, power, and critique.

Finally, the last set of questions I want to bring out concerns the various rankings—which schools and departments theorists admire, which contemporary political theorists are predicted to make an impact in 20 years, who's up and who's down, who's in and who's out. I think of these findings as “theory porn,” the hardcore stuff that makes the survey worth discussing in the safety of anonymous blogs. Could these findings lead fragile or precarious departments to cut theory altogether: “none of our theorists are on the list so clearly they aren't doing anything important”? Could they be used in tenure, promotion, and senior hiring: “theorist X's position has risen over five percent a year for the last three—she's a great investment and we must add her to our portfolio”? Do the findings lead us to think differently about ourselves and each other—now that the big Other knows that a certain prestigious Ivy League institution has no one on the list, well, that takes some wind out of their sails.

I am making this sound overly negative and perhaps even paranoid. My concern is with the “theory porn” aspect of the survey's emphasis on people and names rather than on problems, themes, and ideas. That the name game is played over coffee or wine does not mean it should be operationalized and encouraged, particularly as a matter of perception rather than say, citation or impact, the measures for which are themselves deeply problematic. Perhaps the name ranking should not be followed up but instead be replaced by key themes and issues—which ones are foci for courses?—for example. Do theorists tend to emphasize identity and recognition or are these topics rather tired so that more theorists now are interested in affect and governmentality? Are the classic questions of the best way to live, the meaning of justice, the dialectic of freedom and equality primary anchors for the way most political theorists teach? How are these themes being expanded and challenged?

To conclude, I see this survey as situated in current method wars. Which methods does the survey validate? Might the knowledge of the state of things that it provides accommodate a state of things that is too neoliberalized, too made to measure, too attuned to assessment? The knowledge it provides is within a larger reflexive circuit; it definitely contributes, but it is not clear to what.