Philippe Teilletlecturer in political science at Sciences Po Grenoble and the PACTE laboratory

How would you define objectivity in political science?

The question concerns our activities as researchers, as well as our teaching and other tasks, between teaching and administration: juries, recruitment (of students or colleagues), pre-publication assessments, etc. Objectivity is also a general requirement linked to our status as civil servants. Objectivity is also a general requirement of our status as civil servants. Article L 952-2 of the French Education Code states that: "Teacher-researchers, teachers and researchers enjoy full independence and freedom of expression in the exercise of their teaching duties and research activities, subject to the reservations imposed on them by the principles of tolerance and objectivity, in accordance with university traditions and the provisions of the present code". Article L 141-6 specifies this obligation, while opening up areas for debate: "The public higher education service is secular and independent of any political, economic, religious or ideological influence; it strives for the objectivity of knowledge; it respects the diversity of opinions. It must guarantee that teaching and research can develop freely, scientifically, creatively and critically".

If this is (only?) an objective to be achieved, what are the difficulties to be overcome, particularly in political science? On the one hand, political life has a certain materiality. Objects" are there: electoral results, provisions adopted and published, financial resources allocated, police or military forces deployed, etc. Objectivity is therefore, for the most part, the only way to assess political life. Objectivity is therefore, in part, submission to (and respect for) the facts.

But, on the other hand, these given "objects" don't tell the whole story. Like all social sciences, political science also proceeds by unveiling, not least because politics is a " wonderland " where the representation of things, acts and beings often takes precedence over their reality. Objectivity is therefore also the result of processes of objectification, through which we manage to unveil the invisible, the insensitive and the hidden. Without, of course, creating ourselves what we claim to discover.

That's why objectivity is as much about admitting that data doesn't tell the whole story, as it is about not confusing revealing with inventing...

Is researcher neutrality possible and desirable?

Tolerance, respect for diversity of opinion, secularism, independence... the legal framework for our activities offers as many guarantees as it imposes obligations. But by providing every possible guarantee of respect for these principles, particularly in our educational activities, have we demonstrated our neutrality? I don't think that's possible, and I'm not sure it's desirable.

The researcher's activity does not float in a "pure" space devoid of struggles, conflicts, power relations or power. Even in the "non-social" sciences, these social mechanisms have an impact on scientific activity. Disciplinary protocols, controls and multiple evaluations are there to reduce their impact, and considerable progress has been made, but not without limits. What's more, the difficulty of research seems to me to be such that we can only commit ourselves intensely to it because we have an interest in it. The fact that this activity is not disinterested is therefore less important than the truths we produce, even if we have an interest in producing them.

My hesitation about the desirability of neutrality stems from the virtues, for research, of a certain indignation, contestation, even revolt, against the social world. Injustice, discrimination, dysfunction and real or symbolic violence are powerful vectors for questioning and investigation. Rather than being ashamed of this, or fearing accusations of militancy, it seems to me preferable to assume a commitment to research rather than a factitious neutrality. And to borrow a phrase from one of our former colleagues, Pierre Favre, already quoted here by Frank Petiteville, isn't it a question of " understanding the world in order to change it "?

How important are methods to you as a researcher?

Methods protect us. As my modest work circulates primarily within the social worlds I observe (those of public policies with a cultural dimension), it is exposed to the criticism of experts who are very familiar with my objects. Above all, their convictions and interests may be affected by what I put forward. Having experienced this first-hand, it's best to be clear and precise about the conditions under which my data are produced and gathered, their scope and limits, and especially the ways in which I objectify what I reveal...

But methods are not everything. First and foremost, there is an ethnological dimension to my "journeys to the land of public action". It requires time, numerous exchanges and an immersion that is not always compatible with my other activities. In recent years, this dimension has been almost totally absent. Which means I need to be even more cautious. Then there's the disciplinary "culture" of political science and sociology, which is particularly essential. Generally speaking, it's better to be well armed with concepts, methods and techniques, not only to analyze our objects but also to be critical of our intentions, values and tools. For science without conscience...

Finally, my activities are often part of a form of popularization or, at least, restitution to society of what I have been able to produce thanks to the (admittedly limited) means it has entrusted me with. These publications and, above all, interventions, aimed at the professional circles I study, I'm increasingly aware that they must meet expectations other than those of my scientific community. On the one hand, there's a pedagogical requirement: to set out an analysis clearly, to present reforms or new public orientations in an accessible way, by contextualizing and problematizing. On the other hand, it's about taking part in debates and "feeding" reflections and, quite often, saying something about what should be.

I confess to being increasingly tempted to respond to this expectation. Recent reading of Philippe Corcuff's important book, La grande confusion, indicates to me that this is an avenue that Jean Leca (former director of Sciences Po Grenoble) called political theory, i.e. the articulation between efforts to account for reality (on the basis of empirical surveys) and a more normative register. That's what I'm going to try to do more often from now on...

Could you present an example of research, ideally from your own work, to illustrate the issues and tensions surrounding objectivity and neutrality in political science?

The modesty of my work (on which I insist a little) does not provide me with an abundance of examples. I began by working on hypotheses of changes in cultural policies. The first Lang ministry (whose 40th anniversary we're currently celebrating) provided me with the means to distance myself from the idea that alternation was the source, and to show, on the contrary, that to a large extent what had changed was the product of dynamics that had begun at least a decade earlier. Challenging the type of policies that had largely federated since the early 1960s, certain players had found with the arrival of the left in power, at local level in 1977 and then nationally in 1981, the opportunity to translate some of their proposals into action. This was my thesis. 

Since then, my analysis of public action in the cultural sphere has led me to reconsider my initial positions, by shifting my focus away from national guidelines and looking more locally at the interplay of players and their scope for accompanying or countering these guidelines. As the students at Sciences Po say, to "nuance", to "relativize". Political discourse is powerful and its mythologies are seductive. The distance I had put between him and myself was probably not enough. I gradually learned to question change more forcefully, even if it meant becoming a specialist in what doesn't change and, in so doing, a certain political powerlessness to change (public) policies. It was this shift that led me from public policy analysis to the sociology of public action.

At the same time, this posture has sometimes made my interactions with the professional circles I've studied more difficult. Their relationship with politics is made up of aspirations for change (beneficial from their point of view) as well as fears of change (threatening, this time). To say that both hopes and fears are unfounded, given the extent of political impotence, is often disconcerting... Above all, my analyses underline the great responsibility of the "operators" - these professional circles - in what cultural policies are, in concrete terms. They often re-evaluate their responsibilities in the direction of public action. They also deprive them of federating adversaries, and invite us to look at their divisions and contradictions.

In the end, it seems to me that objectivity requires a certain skill if it is to be heard in our fields... without ending up, as in Lucky Luke, covered in tar and feathers.