This article is designed to summarize the findings of a questionnaire directed to APSA members who indicated they held government positions when they completed a form for the 1973 APSA Biographical Directory. The questionnaire was designed to determine how political science has been and can be used in federal, state, and local government agencies and in administrative, legislative, and judicial positions.

A. The Respondents and the Questions

In January, 1975, the questionnaire was mailed to the 425 APSA members who held government positions as of 1973. These persons were chosen as a good group of people to ask about the relevance of political science to government work since they are likely to be knowledgeable about both political science and government work, and are likely to be responsive to such a survey.

Among the modest number of widely-accepted generalizations about American history is the proposition that many subjects that were once ignored altogether or dealt with privately here, over the decades, come to be regarded as societal problems regulated best, or at least inevitably, by the national government in Washington. Whatever its applications otherwise, this description appears to fit the handling of the papers of Presidents of the United States from 1789 onwards. A backward step in this trend seemed to be signified on Pardon Day, September 8, 1974, when Philip W. Buchen, Counsel to the President, released two legal documents that expressed President Ford's conclusions about the Presidential materials of Richard Nixon. The bottom line was that the papers and other records, including tapes, retained during the Administration of former President Nixon in the White House offices “are the present property of Mr. Nixon.”

Beginning with these documents, this report will describe each of the key events from September, 1974 to the end of January, 1975 concerning the wise handling of Presidential materials. The chief focus will be on the litigation challenging Nixon's ownership, especially the participation as a party by The American Political Science Association. We will examine the initial judicial phase of this controversy including the ruling of Judge Charles R. Richey on January 31, 1975 favorable to the Association and its allies.

Professional journals are central in our professional lives. They are a primary means of communicating new ideas and research findings to other political scientists, and hence help record, however haltingly, our collective progress in understanding the political world. In a business where one's academic contribution is frequently taken as a tally of publications, the journals also function as an important instrument of professional advancement. Counts of vitae entries, however, seem to be generally weighted by judgements of quality; but the quality assessed quite often appears to be of the journal in which an article appears rather than the quality of the specific article. It is interesting therefore, and perhaps prudent to consider how the community of political scientists evaluate the journals in which we publish. This short note presents some data on this question.

Our data were gathered from questionnaires mailed in April 1974 to a sample of 515 political scientists affiliated with Ph.D. granting institutions. The number of usable returned questionnaires is 255 for a response rate of 50 percent. Respondents were asked to rate 63 journals presented alphabetically with additional space provided for the rating of journals not included on the list. The respondents were instructed to rate each journal in terms of the general quality of its articles. The rating scale ranged from 0 to 10 with 0 = poor, 2 = fair, 4 = adequate, 6 = good, 8 = very good, and 10 = outstanding. Respondents were asked only to rate those journals with which they were familiar. In addition to the ratings, information was also gathered on the age, academic rank, academic affiliation, graduate school, recent journal publication information, and areas of professional interest of the respondents.

The only salutary consequence of the failure of the APSA dues increase to attract fifty percent plus one of the voters is that those who attend the San Francisco Convention will be spared a long essay on the pleasures of the flesh—eating and sightseeing—in the convention city. That essay would have afforded me room to describe my thirty-five year love affair with this city and to detail why I believe it to be the most exciting and satisfying forty-two square urban miles on earth. Since I lack the space, you will have to make do with a more succinct statement.

First things first, let's consider food: You can do advanced research to prepare yourself for the convention week—lest you “waste” one lunch or dinner on “ordinary” fare—or you can follow your fancy, get yourself into the right area of the City (too humble for all caps, but surely not lower case) and look around for the great buys (they exist aplenty).

For the research oriented: The indispensable tool is Jack Shelton's Private Guide. This monthly newsletter, because it is monthly, is the only really reliable guide (Shelton's identity is unknown to the restauranteurs, he bases a judgment on no fewer than three visits, he knows food, his tastes generally agree with mine). I would behoove the Association to have a file of Shelton's newsletters available for those who wish to plan their day.

Does a researcher have a legal right not to reveal the identity of sources or subjects and not to reveal information obtained in confidence in the course of research, when asked to do so by a grand jury or other investigatory body? Should a researcher have such a right? Under what circumstances, if any, does a researcher have an ethical obligation to promise a source of information not to reveal the identity of the source and the content of what is learned? What position should the various social science associations take, if any, on questions of the ethical responsibilities and legal rights of researchers concerning the confidentiality of research sources and information?

The above questions, among others, are believed to be of fundamental importance to the social science community. Under the initiative of the American Political Science Association, a research project was conceived to investigate these questions and others, and to recommend alternative solutions. A grant was secured from the Russell-Sage Foundation and co-sponsorship arranged through the Consortium of Social Science Associations, of the various national social science associations, including the American Anthropological Association, the American Economic Association, the American Historical Association, the APSA, the American Psychological Association, the American Sociological Association, the Association of American Law Schools, and the Association of American Geographers. In addition, liaison relationships were established with the American Statistical Association, the American Association for Public Opinion Research, the American Psychiatric Association, and the Oral History Association.

I have made relatively frequent use of political science papers and journals in [my] reporting ... I find that there are often very helpful insights in the political science literature and certainly that my own membership in APSA and the reading of the [APSR] Journal is worthwhile.

—David S. Broder

The Washington Post

My membership in APSA was originally part of the reporting awards I won... Since then, I have maintained membership for old times sake. As a working documentary producer, membership hasn’t done anything for me-the journals, PS, etc., are undigestable-even though Nelson Polsby is a nice person.

William R. Leonard

Former Executive Producer, National Broadcasting Company

How useful or “relevant” do journalists find political science sources and information, including that furnished through APSA membership?

The most elementary and obvious response is that national print journalism specialists can make more extensive use of political science that can broadcaster generalists. Between these extremes are responses of other national and local reporters telling us what we may already suspect: that current journalistic practice generally excludes political science sources in routine newsmaking.

But the exceptions to this practice are instructive. They suggest ways and means which political scientists might more effectively close the gap between political science information and its accessability to newsmakers, policymakers, and the public.

Concern has been expressed among journalists that the news media have been relying too much on “official” or institutional sources for news.

In every social science, there tends to be a recurrent and cyclical preoccupation with the lack of cumulativeness. Some attribute this to the familiar “absence of theory,” and lay it at the doorstep of “barefooted empiricism.” Others might see the culprit lurking in the conceptual morass that often passes for theory, and would suggest that grand schemata that are not — and usually cannot — be tested will hardly make for greater cumulativeness.

There seems to be more than a germ of truth in both of these suspicions, but let me suggest a third possible source of our disappointment. I refer to certain norms and practices found among both the theorizers and the empiricists: those folkways that we pick up in college and graduate school, and are seldom able to shake in the postdoctoral years. On the assumption that an awareness of them and their implications may lead to their gradual extinction, I itemize here a few of what may be our less attractive foibles. While some of them may be peculiar to the field of world politics, most seem to be found all across the discipline.

Two years ago I submitted some aggregate data to PS about time-span averages lying between graduation and completion of Ph.D. requirements in Political Science. These tabulations were based on the annual listings of “Doctorial Dissertations in Political Science” by the American Political Science Association. The following is an update and expansion on these findings. The idea was to relate departmental programs or guidelines—it is generally suggested that a period of four to five years should be sufficient for the completion of all Ph.D. requirements—to the time span that actually “lies” between graduation and the awarding of the doctorial degree.

In a number of responses some critics have pointed out that the calculated averages of 10.0 to 9.5 years (from 1970–72) do not reflect on actual seminar and research time, since they are inflated by such time consuming factors as military service, need to work for financial support, travel, etc. This is an important point which should be made very clear.

Buffeted from all sides because it is not sufficiently generalizing and scientific, because it sticks to outdated notion of field research, and because it is not “relevant” to the career concerns of the average American Student, the subfield of comparative politics seems to have fallen on evil days. Peter Sackman (PS Summer 1975 vol. VIII, no. 3, 262–263) singles out the subfield for adverse comment in his report on dissertations completed and in progress. One would not quarrel with his treatment if it were justified by even the simplest tests of statistical honesty. One doubts that Mr. Sackman is out to “get” comparative politics, but if he should claim to be a friend, then the subdiscipline has not need for enemies.

In the last paragraph of his essay he notes the “marked decline of additions in category VII” (comparative politics). No quarrel with that, for it showed the largest numerical decline of any subdiscipline. But Figure I, showing dissertation increases and decreases for the subdisciplines, indicates that category IV (U.S. State and Local Government) suffered a greater percentage decline, 28% vs. 24% for comparative politics. Six of the eight subdisciplines suffered some decline. Only one, Public Administration, showed a marked increase, viz. 65%. So why single out comparative politics for special mention?