Is Social Science Scientific?

The first day of class in a political science research methods course I took during the fall semester of my senior year at THE New York State University, the professor asked a question that makes practitioners of the social sciences uncomfortable and gives practitioners of the so-called “hard” sciences an undue sense of superiority: “is political science scientific?” It wasn’t something I’d taken the time to think about before and while I felt like I knew the answer, I wasn’t sure how to express the way I felt. I hung out with a lot of engineers from the Watson School at Binghamton during my undergrad and I was always bothered by their dismissive attitude towards those of us who loved the social sciences. Needless to say there is no debating that we do in fact practice science.

It is not uncommon to hear critics of social science saying things like “what you do isn’t real science” or “human beings are too unpredictable” or “your variables are impossible to quantify.” I feel bad for these people because I don’t think they understand what science actually is. To me, the “scienciness” of your work is not determined by the subject you are studying but by the manner in which you frame your hypotheses and the rigor with which you construct your arguments. A good scientist, no matter the field, has a perpetually inquisitive mind, is always seeking to explain the causal mechanisms of specific phenomena as best as possible, and is always looking to improve upon the existing explanations of his or her surroundings. You don’t need a white lab jacket to think like that.

What is "The Great Game?"

“When you play the game of thrones you win or you die.”
Welcome to The Great Game, the Public Servant’s blog about international security and foreign affairs. Over the next few months you’ll hear from a variety of voices at the Bush School on a variety of engaging topics related to the world around us. Hopefully, you’ll learn a bit about what makes nations tick, why they go to war, and how we – though pawns – can manage conflict.

This brings me to our title – The Great Game. If you read Wikipedia, you’ll find that “The Great Game” dates back to the 19^th century when Russia and Britain jockeyed for influence in Central Asia. Our intention is broader. To us, the Great Game is the contest of nations for influence and power irrespective of region or time (though we’ll focus on the present).

Fortunes are won and lost, nations rise and fall, empires are forged, broken, and replaced. What makes this game so great is that the stakes are astronomical. As Tony Kushner writes, "anything - everything can be lost." Unlike Antonius Block, who challenges Death to a game of chess, we have limited control over our fate.

The affairs of nations are a game not only of calculation but also of chance. How we as a nation behave depends on our assumptions: What is a rational actor? Are states unitary? How does domestic politics affect foreign policy? What is the role of leadership? Of women? Of food? Of energy? Of institutions? Of ideology? Of you and me?

These are questions we’ll debate in the coming months. We welcome your respectful and informed commentary and invite you to play.

Three Soldiers Shortly to Leave for an Officer Cadet Training Unit Playing Chess
by Rodrigo Moynihan (1910-1990)

Deterring Weak States and Provoking Strong Ones

In a July 3rd post on Facebook, Admiral James Stavridis of US European Command mentioned that Spain would be the new homeport of American ballistic missile defense-capable warships starting in 2014. The ships, part of the Aegis Ballistic Missile Defense System, complements land-based elements in Romania, Poland and Turkey to protect Europe against possible missile attacks from Iran. However, this missile defense strategy has drawn the ire of Russia and with good reason.

In 1967 during nuclear arms control negotiations, Soviet Premier Aleksey Kosygin famously declared, “Defense is moral, offense is immoral!” He was replying to US Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara’s assertion that ballistic missile defense undermined the stability of deterrence. To many, McNamara’s argument is counterintuitive. In the face of a threat, our natural inclination is to defend ourselves—to “duck and cover,” build fallout shelters and now employ ballistic missile defense systems deployed in Eastern Europe and soon in Spain.

Deterrence theory requires states to remain equally vulnerable to one another to maintain a stable balance of power—an uncomfortable proposition. The defensive preparations of State A diminish the ability of State B to inflict pain, which means State A can strike first because it can better withstand State B’s retaliatory strike. It is dizzying in its logic, but deterrence worked during the Cold War. We’re all still here.