Teach-Ins: Pedagogical Resistance and American Democracy[1]

Khadijah Costley White, Rutgers University in New Brunswick

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103946-6, PDF

I have only marched once with university students on the campus where I have taught for the past twelve years. It was during a Black Lives Matter demonstration in the fall of 2015. We walked down a main street that runs through campus, at points with a police escort. What I remember most vividly from that march was the moment we passed a fraternity house, where young white men stood outside yelling racial insults and mocking the crowd as we passed by.

Perhaps a campus march seems like an unusual place to begin an essay on the significance of teach-ins in the American political sphere. But that moment stands out because it was one of the few times on campus that I engaged with students not as a professor, but as a peer—both a target of the jeering fraternity members and a marcher in solidarity with students of color pushing for change. Marching that day—being harassed alongside my students—was a reminder that the political struggles our students take on, and the histories and power dynamics we explore in teach-ins, are unfolding right here, on the campuses where we work and our students live.

University teach-ins do more than just help students make sense of the world beyond the Ivory Tower; they also equip them to navigate the inequalities within it. As professors, we work in institutions that claim to uphold democracy and equality, yet often rely on hierarchy, exploitative labor practices, predatory lending, and transactional credentialing. Scholars are sources of authority, influence, and knowledge—all while reproducing spaces that are white, often male dominant, ableist, and oppressive. The university, in this way, mirrors both the best and worst of our American society. Understanding the university as a key site of power, governance, and legitimacy is the first step toward recognizing the teach-in as a form of solidarity and resistance.

As scholars, we often conceptualize teach-ins in ways similar to the classroom—professors speaking from a place of expertise, surrounded by students eager to learn. But teach-ins, like marches and other forms of political action, are inextricably linked to protest, public demonstration, and the importance of occupying space for democratic purposes. Student-led marches and rallies have long been essential tools in political education and organizing, particularly during times of social unrest. Likewise, the university teach-in emerges from a deep need for political engagement on urgent social matters.

Background

For over sixty years, faculty across the country have organized teach-ins as a platform that opens political discourse, challenges institutional actions, informs a broad public, and opposes injustice. The teach-in movement began in 1965, after a failed attempt to launch a faculty strike at University of Michigan in protest of the Vietnam War. When threatened by state officials and university leaders over the proposed teaching moratorium, protesting professors instead decided to “teach-in.”

The concept and practice of the teach-in drew directly from civil rights activism taking place in the American South at the time. To teach “in” echoed the language of “sit-ins” protesting racial segregation and employed the advocacy teaching and training models of southern Freedom Schools focused on enfranchisement (Small, 2002). More than 100 US campuses participated in the first 1965 teach-ins: Michigan’s teach-in drew 3,000 people, and over 30,000 turned out in Berkeley (Sahlins, 2017; Schrecker, 2021). In Toronto, professors, activists, and even comedians like Dick Gregory came together to analyze political events and challenge the normalization of rising militarism and authoritarianism in American society, offering alternative visions of democracy. These gatherings underscored not just the importance of the moment, but the centrality of the university in American civic life.

Theorizing the Teach-In

The anti-war teach-ins of the 1960s and 70s shaped our understanding of education as central to both movement building and democracy. Three key theories help articulate the importance of the teach-in: critical pedagogy, liminality, and democratic deliberation.

Critical pedagogy, most often attributed to Paulo Freire (2014), is an approach to teaching that centers liberation and overturning an unjust social order as essential to thinking and learning. In this model, students are learners taught to solve problems. Teachers, while holding epistemic authority, are also learners in the context of the teach-in—they learn “in dialogue with students” (ibid, p. 66). Dialogue is a key part of this paradigm. As Freire puts it “at the point of encounter there are neither ignoramuses nor perfect sages; there are only people who are attempting, together, to learn more than they now know” (ibid, p. 74). In other words, dialogue is an exchange of ideas and information that motivates work that will “transform the world”. Humility is a necessary element of this exchange.

Freire’s notions of critical pedagogy and dialogue also connect to ideals of deliberative democracy within political science. In order to make decisions that most benefit the public good, a deliberative democracy provides space for discussion, debate, listening, and the exchange of ideas—that is, space to deliberate (Elster, 1998; Steiner, 2012). Deliberative democracies insist on the importance of an engaged and informed electorate. This connects to the two key models of democratic citizenship as outlined by William Gamson, one of the founders of the teach-in movement. According to Gamson, citizens function in a democracy either 1) in a passive limited citizenship model in which citizens elect skilled and knowledgeable representatives who make complex policy decisions on their behalf, or 2) in a strong democracy model that requires citizens to fulfill a participatory role in making public decisions through learning and action. Dialogue and deliberation bolster the strong democracy model, which emboldens citizens, informs them,  and pushes them to engage.

The teach-in can also be understood as a liminal space, what Victor Turner (2017) called a place of “statuslessnes” (p. 97) and transition that it is “betwixt and between the positions assigned and arrayed by law, custom, convention” (p. 95). A teach-in can be led by an activist or an actor, a scholar or a health worker—it occupies a learning space that bridges the classroom and the community. Though often held at universities, teach-ins are often not endorsed or sanctioned by university leadership. Within the traditionally rigid structures and routines typically used for thinking and learning, the teach-in becomes a ritual that forms community, revitalizes participants, and challenges tradition.

Reflecting on Experience

When I imagine a teach-in, I picture a sunny college quad: students sitting on the grass, a professor—white, balding, and male, in a tweed jacket with elbow patches—addressing an attentive audience of long-haired students. It’s a nostalgic image, pulled from cultural memories and film sequences of 1960s student organizing that often omit the role of women and people of color in university activism. It’s also a kind of fantasy about the excitement and importance of learning in a crisis, and the role of ideas in shaping movements for a better world.

In darker times, the teach-in feels less romantic and more essential—a symbol of the role of education in preserving a free and open society. Amid rhetorical and budgetary attacks on education in the U.S., the need for a revitalized American teach-in movement feels more urgent than ever. Thinkers can distill ideas, clarify complex events, and help people navigate ideological conflict.

As a Black woman scholar, I do not look like the professor I imagine in the movie scene of 1970s university activism. And the teach-ins I have participated in have not taken place in sunny quads. One involved students crowded on the floor of a meeting room, where a panel of Black women professors addressed questions about the history and strategy of Black student organizing. Another, just last month, packed fifty staff, faculty, and students into a hot, sterile, gray room to talk about how to survive fascism. During the early months of the COVID-19 pandemic, a colleague and I organized a series of Zoom teach-ins to help university workers and researchers understand the evolving health crisis and its social implications.

I have also organized teach-ins outside campus. For several years, I have led an annual event for children to learn about and discuss the killing of Trayvon Martin, a Black teenager whose 2012 death ignited the Black Lives Matter movement. And following the police killing of George Floyd in 2020, a community nonprofit I lead hosted “anti-racist lawn chats”—informal outdoor gatherings where neighbors learned about racism, whiteness, and white supremacy. These came closest to my imagined teach-ins of the past in grassy fields, though they were led not by PhDs, but by trained community members and peers.

From these experiences, I’ve come to understand the teach-in as functioning in four key ways:

1. Urgent – They respond to pressing political events, policies, or
2. Collective – They are grounded in shared ideals of democracy and
3. Action-oriented – They aim to foster knowledgeable political participation and
4. Informed – They draw on knowledge, expertise, and training to guide discussion, often in response to a larger public propaganda or disinformation campaign.

Scholars and advocates have used teach-ins to address issues from drug use and vaccination to policing, racial justice, carceral violence, and Israel-Palestine (Knippen, et al, 2020; McGrath, 2015; Minnick, et al, 2022; Poorvu Center for Teaching and learning, 2021, The Repair Project, 2025). Conservative groups, too, have adopted the teach-in model to share their views on campuses, such a David Horowitz’s teach-ins aimed at undermining Palestinian organizing (Lapkin, 2015). Teach-ins draw from a Jeffersonian belief that education is necessary for citizens to participate effectively in democracy and to preserve freedom and independence. To riff on the old cliché: those who can, do—and those who can teach, must.

Teach-ins, then, are rooted in a long tradition that affirms the importance of critical knowledge in struggles for justice. They foster flexible, timely, community-driven spaces that our formal classrooms do not always allow. In truth, teach-ins help create space where none exists.

Conclusion

Teach-ins are not just academic exercises or nostalgic callbacks to the activism of the 1960s. They are living, breathing practices that bridge the gap between knowledge and action, between campus and community, between the ideals of democracy and the lived realities of inequality. They remind us that learning is not neutral and that teaching—especially in moments of crisis— is integral vital to our political world. Whether held in a stuffy conference room, on a front lawn, or over Zoom, teach-ins create space for shared inquiry, collective memory, and resistance.

As educators, we often ask our students to think about and describe the world. Teach-ins ask us to do more: to participate in building the world, and to make it better starting from where we are. They challenge the illusion of the university as an ivory tower and insist that it is, in fact, part of the very fabric of the struggles we study. To teach-in is to make knowledge public, urgent, and purposeful.

In times of disinformation, authoritarian drift, and institutional silence, the teach-in becomes a quiet but radical act—one that insists on clarity, connection, and community. And in doing so, it offers not only tools for understanding the world, but hope for changing it.

References

Elster, J (Ed.) (1998). Deliberative Democracy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Freire, Paulo. Pedagogy of the Oppressed : 30th Anniversary Edition, Bloomsbury Academic & Professional, 2014. ProQuest Ebook Central, https://ebookcentral-proquest- com.proxy.libraries.rutgers.edu/lib/rutgers-ebooks/detail.action?docID=1745456.

Gamson, W.A. (2000). Promoting Political Engagement. In W.L. Bennett & R. M. Entman (Eds.) Mediated Politics: Communication in the Future of Democracy (pp. 56-74). Chapter 3. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Knippen, Kerri Lynn; LaVenia, Kristina N.; and Burek, Melissa W. (2020) “Changing the Story: Evaluation Results of an Opioid Awareness Teach-In,” Mid-Western Educational Researcher: Vol. 33: Iss. 2, Article 4. Available at https://scholarworks.bgsu.edu/mwer/vol33/iss2/4

Lapkin, A. (2015, Apr 10). Teach-ins aimed to expose pro-Palestinian college group. Jewish Advocate.

McGrath, B. (2015, Jan/Feb) Northfield Holds Palestine Teach-In. Washington Report on Middle East Affairs. Vol 34, Issue : p. 58.

Minnick, D., Galarza, J. & R. Benbow (2022) #Resist: Utilizing Racial Justice Teach-ins to Challenge Anti-Black Racism, Journal of Teaching in Social Work, 42:2-3, 265-279.

Poorvu Center for Teaching and Learning (2021) Teach-Ins: What, When, Why, and How Yale. https://poorvucenter.yale.edu/Yale-Teach- Ins#:~:text=The%20Yale%20Law%20School%20plans,in%20Organizational%20Behavi or%20Heidi%20Brooks

Sahlins, M. (2017, April 6) Teach-Ins helped galvanize student activism in the 1960s. They can do so again today. The Nation. https://www.thenation.com/article/archive/teach-ins- helped-galvanize-student-activism-in-the-1960s-they-can-do-so-again-today/

Schrecker, Ellen. (2021) The Lost Promise : American Universities in The 1960s, University of Chicago Press, 2021.

Small, M. (2002). Antiwarriors: the Vietnam War and the battle for America’s Hearts and Minds (Vol. 1). Rowman & Littlefield.

Steiner, J. (2012). The Foundations of Deliberative Democracy: Empirical Research and Normative Implications. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).

The Repair Project (2025) Teach-Ins. University of California San Francisco. https://repair.ucsf.edu/teach-ins-0

Turner, V. W. (2017). Liminality and communitas. In V, Turner, The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. New York: Routledge (Chapter 25) pp. 94-130.

Khadijah Costley White is an Associate Professor in the Department of Journalism and Media Studies in the School of Communication and Information at Rutgers University in New Brunswick. Previously she worked as a journalist on an Emmy-nominated team at NOW on PBS (formerly NOW with Bill Moyers) and a New York City Teaching Fellow. Costley White researches power, identity, and social change in media and politics. She is the author and co-editor of two books: The Branding of Right-Wing Activism: The News Media and the Tea Party (2018) and Media and January 6^th (2024).

[1] Copyright © 2025 Khadijah Costley White. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

Teaching Political Communication: Five Lessons From the Field and Beyond[1]

Kevin Coe, University of Utah

Diana Zulli, Purdue University

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103947-1, PDF

“Teaching political communication is, above all else, an opportunity.” These are the opening words of a forthcoming book, Teaching Political Communication, which we are honored to be editing for the Elgar Guides to Teaching series (Coe & Zulli, in press). Those words ring true, we hope, for the many individuals fortunate enough to teach political communication in any of its myriad forms. Political communication offers a wonderful array of content to teach and learn.

It is also evident, however, that the varied and meaningful opportunities inherent to teaching political communication exist amid a host of dramatic changes and challenges—many of which have become more acute in recent decades. Consider, for example, the rise of social media and the fragmentation of audiences for political content. These transitions have fundamentally reshaped not only the flows of (mis)information among politicians, media, and the public, but in many ways have altered the practice of democracy itself (Dimitrova & Matthes, 2018; Van Aelst et al., 2017; Scacco & Coe, 2021). The rapid uptake of artificial intelligence (AI) in recent elections (not to mention in classrooms) suggests that yet another layer of uncertainty in political communication flows is on the horizon (Schneier & Sanders, 2024).

Meanwhile, teachers across the globe who endeavor to provide an honest and accurate accounting of political realities face ever-growing challenges (Goldberg & Whaley, 2024). Scholars at Risk chronicles attacks on academics worldwide. Their 2024 report revealed just how dire the present situation is: Of the 179 countries they analyzed, academic freedom was expanding in only ten. Scholars are facing lawsuits, legislative overreach, financial constraints, and worse—including the destruction of universities in some areas (Gretzinger & Hicks, 2024; Scholars at Risk, 2024; Schwartz, 2024). In many instances, those in power have co-opted worthy principles such as free speech to attack the academy and stifle dissent (Vivian, 2023; Young, 2025). There is little indication that such challenges will abate in the near future.

From our vantage point as editors of Teaching Political Communication, we have had the chance to observe the varied and productive ways that instructors are navigating these very real changes and challenges. In what follows, we briefly distill five key lessons that we have gleaned from the more than 40 authors who are contributing to the book.

Lesson 1: Political Communication Teaching Takes Many Forms

The first lesson we can glean from this volume is that there is a remarkable breadth of venues, approaches, and formats for teaching political communication. Certainly, political communication instruction primarily occurs in college classrooms, as evidenced by the many authors who identify first and foremost as political communication researchers and teachers at universities. However, there are growing efforts to extend this instruction outside the college classroom. For example, political communication instruction happens in public high schools through commitments to anti-racist and inclusive pedagogy, through university centers that partner with local and international organizations to promote sound journalistic and democratic practices, through campus engagement where students can apply and showcase their learning to broader audiences, in international contexts where various socio-political realities inform specific modes of instruction, and in online environments where political communication scholars and teachers share their understandings with those entering the field.

Political communication instructors are also incorporating a range of pedagogical approaches and formats to respond to the challenges of teaching in the present moment. These approaches include adopting feminist/gendered and Black pedagogical lenses, examining both mainstream and “outsider” political rhetoric, emphasizing political listening, fostering empathy and sense-making, and recognizing the affective reactions that result from discussing political and politicized topics. Many instructors are also opting for experiential learning and community/campus-based engagement to make the implications of political communication more palpable for their students. Ultimately, the chapters in this book illustrate how effective political communication teaching includes extending instruction to myriad venues and incorporating various approaches to reach diverse audiences.

Lesson 2: Systems and Structures Play a Crucial Role

Political communication scholars are well-versed in the important role that socio-political systems and structures can play in shaping behavior, so it is perhaps unsurprising that the chapters in this volume underscore the influence of these broader forces in teaching as well. At the most general level, it bears mention that institutional structures inform how teachers go about their work. A large online class, for instance, has different possibilities and constraints than does a small in-person class. Many of the approaches and assignments described in the book would seem to be most easily employed in an in-person course with a smallish student population (e.g., 20-30), where features such as discussion, presentation, active listening, and direct observation are more smoothly facilitated. Still, adaptation is possible. In several cases, an activity that was originally designed for in-person instruction was eventually used in an online course as well.

The influence of systems and structures in political communication teaching takes many more specific forms as well. One chapter in the volume, for example, stresses the patriarchal system on which the United States was founded, building from there to illustrate the utility of helping students apply a gendered lens in analyzing various aspects of political communication. Another chapter highlights how scholars seeking to network and educate the public about their research via social media not only have to work within the affordances of major platforms but also have to navigate the (sometimes opaque) structures of the broader “scholarly ecosystem.” In one way or another, nearly every chapter reflects the importance of systems and structures.

Lesson 3: Dialogue is Foundational to Learning

Dialogue and civil discussions undergird the majority of approaches and assignments discussed in this volume. Some of the biggest challenges to teaching political communication right now are partisanship, polarization—real and perceived, ideological and affective—and the politicization of topics, such as diversity, equity, inclusion, gender, and sexuality. In the current political climate, some students are hesitant about and even resistant to engaging in political discussions. Accordingly, a central focus for the political communication instructors in this volume is teaching students how to have open, respectful, and productive conversations about politics, regardless of the topic. This includes researching multiple perspectives about a given topic, listening to understand, asking questions, considering others’´ perspectives,  taking turns, acknowledging students’ lived experiences, and allowing space for difficult conversations. 

We see this dialogic commitment in many of the assignments in this book. For example, in one chapter detailing a course on political listening, the authors describe hosting “guest listening sessions” where campus administrators and other professionals are invited to class to listen to students and simulate the importance of listening for decision-making. In another example, an author outlines a guide for facilitating successful deliberative dialogues, which includes allowing students to choose the topic, requiring pre-dialogue preparation (e.g., reading briefing materials), assigning some students to the role of “observer,” and requiring post-dialogue reflections about the process and possibilities for dialogue. These are just two examples, but the book contains many others that center on the importance and skills of political dialogue.

Lesson 4: Creative Possibilities are Everywhere

A fourth lesson we can learn from the authors in this book is that the range of creative possibilities in political communication courses is nearly endless. It is clear from the contributions that political communication instructors are aware that students can benefit from interactive, practical, experiential, technology-integrated, and fun instruction. Traditional, lecture-based instruction still has its place, but many instructors are opting for approaches and assignments that allow students to “learn through doing” and be creative in the process. For example, to teach about the relationship between media technology and political communication, one author describes an activity where students are required to research a topic and produce information on that topic using a single medium (e.g., books vs. newspapers vs. social media). In doing so, students become familiar with the limitations and opportunities of various media formats, while thinking through the practicalities of strategic communication in changing communication environments. Other examples of creative outputs described in the book include political memes to teach about global political communication, infographics and visual timelines to teach about the history of information gatekeeping or the evolution of political campaigning, political advertisements to teach about strategic communication, and wiki-pages to teach about misinformation and digital literacy.

Thinking broadly, the willingness of political communication scholars and instructors to share their insights in this book demonstrates that other instructors should not feel solely responsible for coming up with creative lessons and assignments. The political communication discipline is full of generous and creative instructors who are dedicated to student learning—whether their own students or those elsewhere. We encourage readers to take advantage of these insights, and pay it forward when opportunities arise.

Lesson 5: Challenges Present Opportunities

We began this essay by identifying the teaching of political communication as, above all else, an opportunity. The chapters in this book reveal the encouraging reality that, amid so many recent changes and challenges, political communication instructors are still finding numerous opportunities to help students learn. In many ways, the broader challenges of the political moment—the rise in affective polarization, for example, or the resurgence of extremism and authoritarianism—help students more easily recognize the applicability of course concepts. Whether it be polling public opinion, deliberating contentious policies, analyzing political memes, assessing bias in news coverage, identifying and debunking misinformation, designing campaign ads, or simulating an election season, the stakes are clearer than ever.

More localized challenges can also present opportunities. For example, one of the contributions to the book describes how administrative constraints and other forms of pushback encouraged teachers to redouble their social justice efforts in the classroom. Another chapter discusses how initial language barriers in having U.S. students analyze political content from countries in the Global South created an opportunity to consider what information can be conveyed via visuals alone. Yet another chapter illustrates that what might begin as a deeply challenging moments in a class can—through the use of strategies such as naming silence and space-making—turn into productive moments of student growth and community building. In these cases and many others, challenges produced opportunities that students and teachers alike were able to benefit from. This is a good reminder for all of us that now is not the time to shy from challenges. In fact, it is exactly the moment in which our best efforts as teachers of political communication are most needed.

These five lessons are not the whole story, of course, but they represent key considerations that we hope prove valuable. We also hope they encourage interested readers to seek the fuller picture by reading Teaching Political Communication once it is published in late 2025 or early 2026. As work on the book unfolded, we were struck by the number of times we heard some variant on the theme of scholars needing more venues to think together about how to teach political communication. We are pleased to see that some of these venues—including this welcome forum in Political Communication Report—are now emerging.

References

Coe, K., & Zulli, D. (Eds.). (in press). Teaching political communication. Edward Elgar Publishing.

Dimitrova, D. V., & Matthes, J. (2018). Social media in political campaigning around the world: Theoretical and methodological challenges. Journalism & Mass Communication Quarterly, 95(2), 333-342. https://doi.org/10.1177/1077699018770437

Goldberg, A., & Whaley, C. O. (Eds.). (2024). Leaning into politics. Higher education and the democracy we need. Information Age Publishing.

Gretzinger, E., & Hicks, M. (2024, April 19). Tracking higher ed’s dismantling of DEI. The Chronicle of Higher Education. https://www.chronicle.com/article/tracking-higher-eds-dismantling-of-dei 

Scacco, J. M., & Coe, K. (2021). The ubiquitous presidency: Presidential communication and digital democracy in tumultuous times. Oxford University Press.

Schneier, B., & Sanders, N. (2024, December 4). The apocalypse that wasn’t. AI was everywhere in 2024’s elections, but deepfakes and misinformation were only part of the picture. Ash Center for Democratic Governance and Innovation: Harvard Kennedy School. https://ash.harvard.edu/articles/the-apocalypse-that-wasnt-ai-was-everywhere-in-2024s-elections-but-deepfakes-and-misinformation-were-only-part-of-the-picture

Scholars at Risk (2024). Free to think: Report of the Scholars at Risk Academic Freedom Monitoring Project. https://www.scholarsatrisk.org/download-the-free-to-think-2024-pdf 

Schwartz, S. (2024, March 20). Map: Where critical race theory is under attack. Education Week. https://www.edweek.org/policy-politics/map-where-critical-race-theory-is-under-attack/2021/06 

Van Aelst, P., Strömbäck, J., Aalberg, T., Esser, F., De Vreese, C., Matthes, J., … & Stanyer, J. (2017). Political communication in a high-choice media environment: a challenge for democracy?. Annals of the International Communication Association, 41(1), 3-27. https://doi.org/10.1080/23808985.2017.1288551

Vivian, B. (2023). Campus misinformation: The real threat to free speech in American higher education. Oxford University Press.

Young, J. C. (2025, February 24). Hands off higher ed! The Chronicle of Higher Education. https://www.chronicle.com/article/hands-off-higher-ed

Kevin Coe is a Professor in the Department of Communication at the University of Utah. Professor Coe’s research employs both quantitative and qualitative methods to better understand political communication, news media, and public opinion.

Diana Zulli is an Associate Professor in the Brian Lamb School of Communication at Purdue University. Her research focuses on the interaction between communication theory, political rhetoric, and digital technology.

[1] Copyright © 2025 Kevin Coe & Diana Zulli. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

Comparative Studies: Epistemological and Pedagogical Reflections[1]

Regina Cazzamatta, University of Erfurt

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103948-7, PDF

Current developments have profoundly reshaped the communication of political issues in the public sphere, with significant implications for democratic quality (Bennett & Pfetsch, 2018). These developments include the convergence of media systems (Hallin, 2020), the erosion of journalism’s gatekeeping role (Vos, 2019), the symbiosis between populist politics and disinformation (Waisbord, 2018), and other consequences of digitalization. In light of these transformations, a key objective in the classroom is to equip students with a robust methodological toolkit for gathering empirical evidence on the scope and significance of these shifts. In this article, I reflect on specific challenges inherent in conducting comparative research, with particular emphasis on effectively communicating these complexities to students. Considering that the interplay between legacy and digital media, as well as politics, is deeply shaped by macro-level contextual variables, such as regulatory frameworks, political systems, and the rule of law, comparative research remains a critical strategy for advancing our understanding (Canel & Voltmer, 2014).

Esser and Hanitzsch (2012) define comparative research as the analysis of at least two macro-level entities—such as systems, cultures, or markets, or their components—in relation to a specific phenomenon relevant to communication studies. However, this approach entails a range of conceptual, epistemological, methodological, and practical-organizational challenges that must be critically addressed in the classroom (Esser & Hanitzsch, 2012). Within the Master’s program in ‘Global Media: Politics and Society’ at the University of Erfurt, comparative inquiry is central to the curriculum. Drawing on my previous teaching experience in this Master’s course and a methodological postgraduate course for Master’s and PhD students at São Paulo State University (UNESP), and informed by key literature on comparative studies (Canel & Voltmer, 2014; Esser et al., 2004; Esser & Hanitzsch, 2012; Hallin & Mancini, 2012; Labio-Bernal et al., 2024; Matassi & Boczkowski, 2023), I reflect how these challenges are addressed. Particular emphasis is placed on the limitations of the media systems framework in the digital age and the field’s persistent lack of cosmopolitanism (Richter et al., 2025).

Addressing contemporary conceptual and theoretical challenges

In earlier scholarship, Norris (2009) noted that the vast majority of political communication studies focused on the United States, which represents a relatively atypical media and political system. Comparative research was often confined to examining whether ‘fuzzy’ concepts were converging with or diverging from the U.S. as a reference point, without producing a systematic body of knowledge that would allow for broader comparisons beyond the specific case. Norris (2009) therefore called for a more robust “theoretical map and conceptual compass.” Hallin and Mancini’s seminal book—Comparing Media Systems: Three Models of Media and Politics—marked a turning point in the study of media and politics, providing scholars with a much-needed and well-established conceptual framework—despite its well-known and widely discussed criticisms (Hallin & Mancini, 2010). These include, for instance, debates over the scope and nature of state intervention, as well as the absence of non-Western variables influencing political parallelism, such as religious, ethnic, and regional identities and clientelist loyalties (Hallin & Mancini, 2010; Voltmer, 2012). Although these typologies are difficult to apply beyond the Western world, it is undeniable that the four dimensions—media markets, political parallelism, journalistic professionalism, and the role of the state—have constituted a crucial starting point for many comparative studies. Accordingly, the first two sessions of my comparative seminars—whether focused on media change, journalism, or media systems—consistently begin with a review of these foundational elements and the critiques they have received. Before engaging with efforts to de-Westernize the theoretical framework, examine media systems in the digital age, or explore their connections to pressing issues such as disinformation or AI regulation, students must first develop a solid understanding of this foundational theoretical entry point.

Furthermore, whether developing a Master’s thesis framework or preparing a simple class presentation, students should be confronted with two crucial questions: What and why do they want to compare? What is their unit of analysis, and which variables affect it? However, we quickly realized that classical media systems variables are somewhat outdated, as scholars and students increasingly focus on global phenomena—such as disinformation, platform partnerships, social media, and other digital dynamics—that are difficult to address using the traditional toolkit. Some students do not even remember a time when Facebook, WhatsApp, X, LinkedIn, TikTok, or Snapchat were not so intricately embedded in daily life. While classical media systems theory remains a foundational reference for many comparative studies, it is inadequate for addressing the complexities and side effects introduced by digitalization and hybrid media environments (Chadwick, 2017; Hardy, 2021). Although the ongoing relevance of the media systems approach and the nation-state’s central role in media governance are widely acknowledged (Flew & Waisbord, 2015; Hallin, 2020), a growing body of research calls for revising and expanding existing frameworks. This includes integrating new variables and indicators related to information and communication technologies to better capture ongoing transformations (Hallin, 2020; Humprecht et al., 2020; Mancini, 2020; Mattoni & Ceccobelli, 2018). However, a key limitation is that such indicators are often unavailable in non-WEIRD countries. This highlights a second major challenge in comparative analysis: the implicit assumption of methodological and theoretical universalism (Esser & Hanitzsch, 2012)

Epistemological Violence and the (still) westernized nature of scholarship

Despite later improvements, the vast majority of comparative studies published in English in high-impact journals remains heavily focused on the Global North, representing only 14% of the world’s population (Matassi & Boczkowski, 2023). This reflects the enduring dominance of Anglo-Saxon perspectives and the tendency to treat region-specific developments as universally applicable. The field of political communication has long carried a distinctly Western flair, particularly shaped by Anglo-American traditions. Since the early 2000s—especially following the publication of De-Westernizing Media Studies by Park and Curran (2000)—scholars have advocated for the serious inclusion of non-Western perspectives in media and communication research. Efforts have been made to integrate these perspectives into university curricula and pedagogical frameworks, although the number of permanent international faculty members remains limited, particularly in Germany (Badr et al., 2020; Richter et al., 2023). This is a structural issue that affects students more broadly, as they are primarily taught by faculty members from the country where they study, thereby limiting their exposure to diverse academic cultures and epistemologies. While invited lecturers or guest scholars may broaden perspectives to some extent, they do not resolve the underlying problem. Moreover, it is not farfetched to say that de-westernization is likely taken more seriously in research fields that tend to engage more directly with cosmopolitanism, such as intercultural or international communication (Waisbord & Mellado, 2014). Recent and critical academic evaluations of the issue continue to highlight the dominance of Western perspectives—even within comparative studies—in leading communication journals (Richter et al., 2025).

Waisbord (2015) characterizes cosmopolitanism as a “sensitivity to comparative and global questions and approaches and engagement in globalized debates” (2015, p. 180). In the classroom, this ethos can be operationalized by adopting the same strategies Waisbord proposes for de-westernizing research: encouraging students to critically examine their unit of analysis, empirical foundations, and theoretical frameworks through a de-westernized lens (Waisbord & Mellado, 2014). In practice, this means motivating students to select case studies from outside the Western world—often overlooked in mainstream research—for term papers, presentations, or Master’s theses, and to test established analytical frameworks in these contexts. Promoting comparative research is another strategy for fostering cosmopolitanism and expanding the empirical base, thereby avoiding universalist assumptions. Finally, students should be encouraged to address global problems and transnational phenomena not merely by adding international perspectives, but by posing questions that are inherently relevant across national boundaries.

I must acknowledge that it is considerably easier to explore cosmopolitan strategies in classrooms primarily composed of international students, who bring diverse scholarly traditions and foster opportunities for academic exchange within the process of knowledge production (Richter et al., 2025). While it is crucial to empower international students to engage with issues pertinent to their home countries and introduce theoretical perspectives often overlooked in Western scholarship, we must be cautious not to confine them to regional or area studies, thereby “reinforcing scholarly insularity and fragmentation” (Waisbord, 2015, p. 184). How long must an early-career scholar or student reside in the West before being considered capable of contributing to broader theoretical debates, rather than being consistently asked to speak—or present in class—solely from the perspective of their national or regional expertise? As Waisbord (2015) warns in his critique of area studies, merely leveraging multicultural classrooms or incorporating diverse regional concerns does not, in itself, foster cosmopolitanism—especially when Western analytical frameworks or methodological nationalism remain unchallenged. A more meaningful approach involves encouraging students to critically engage with global phenomena that transcend national boundaries—such as the rise of right-wing populism, disinformation, fact-checking, platformization, cross-border media flows, and transnational social movements—while recognizing that it is no longer tenable to examine issues within a single national context without at least asking whether and how they manifest elsewhere (Livingstone, 2012).

Nonetheless, the expectation to analyze a broad spectrum of phenomena across diverse countries, regions, and cultures introduces an inherent methodological and theoretical universalism that often overlooks contextual factors, potentially resulting in “out-of-context measurements” (Esser & Hanitzsch, 2012). Effective contextualization requires a deep socio-political understanding and linguistic expertise, which can challenge established typologies (as discussed in the section on media systems above). Without adequate contextualization, the comprehensive understanding of specific phenomena becomes compromised and may contribute to “epistemic violence”, defined as the marginalization, silencing, or devaluation of other forms of knowledge by dominant academic frameworks (Richter et al., 2025), reinforcing normative concepts like objectivity in journalism (Ward, 2020) and uncritically reproducing power relations in knowledge production. This problem stems from disparities in the production and transfer of knowledge, which lead to significant methodological and practical challenges.

Methodological Problems and other Practicalities

Traditional research methods often fail to capture the complexities of non-Western countries, as they do not address the unique challenges involved in conducting research in these regions. These methods, primarily developed in Western contexts, assume that accurate and comprehensive data—such as statistics on media reach, social media usage, circulation, populist discourse, and media ownership—are readily accessible (Richter et al., 2025). For example, although the Reuters Digital News Report (Newman et al., 2024) covers numerous countries, it does not include data on Cuba or Venezuela, likely due to difficulties in data collection rather than a lack of interest from the research groups. Such data are often difficult to obtain, unreliable, or incomplete, owing to systemic challenges such as limited resources for data gathering, weak institutional frameworks, and political constraints. As a result, some researchers (Richter et al., 2025) advocate for an inductive approach to research, which is better suited to understanding these unique contexts.

It is easy to overlook, in large-scale quantitative comparative research, the underlying processes that shape the observed patterns. Furthermore, broad generalizations that fail to consider the cultural significance and historical context of institutions and individual decisions can lead to misinterpretations and erroneous conclusions (Canel & Voltmer, 2014; Esser et al., 2004; Richter et al., 2025). Identifying appropriate equivalents (Rössler, 2011) is especially challenging in comparative designs, where respondents and coders may interpret questions and concepts differently. Therefore, from a methodological standpoint, it is crucial to emphasize the careful selection of comparison units, the establishment of functional equivalence, and the appropriate choice of research instruments.

There is no way to circumvent these challenges except by raising students’ awareness of them. Research seminars—especially those integrated into applied methodology courses—provide valuable opportunities to engage students from diverse methodological and scholarly traditions in collaborative research designs. Nonetheless, teaching in this context involves practical constraints, notably these students’ varied methodological training and broader issues tied to the political economy of academia. For example, in courses taught in English, I am limited in my selection of literature when designing a comprehensive and inclusive syllabus. To mitigate this limitation, I encourage students to present alternative methodological and theoretical perspectives from their native languages, while avoiding confining them to regional expertise, as discussed above. Although I acknowledge and highlight important scholarship in Portuguese, Spanish, and German during class, inclusion in the syllabus is generally restricted to works published in English, which constrains the scope of knowledge assessment. One strategy I have adopted is inviting students to critically engage with the syllabus, as some may be familiar with key authors worldwide who publish in English but remain outside my current awareness. Another essential strategy is to promote collaborative projects and group works that enable dialogue among students with diverse academic backgrounds. Finally, to effectively teach comparative studies, it is essential to foster an environment that is safe, collaborative, and intellectually open. This environment should welcome critique in order to address the challenges inherent in comparative research.  

References

Badr, H., Behmer, M., Fengler, S., Fiedler, A., Grüne, A., Hafez, K., Hahn, O., Hamidi, K., Hanitzsch, T., Horz, C., Illg, B., Litvinenko, A., Löffelholz, M., Radue, M., Richter, C., Thomaß, B., & Töpfl, F. (2020). Kosmopolitische Kommunikationswissenschaft: Plädoyer für eine „tiefe Internationalisierung“ des Fachs in Deutschland: Ein wissenschaftspolitisches Positionspapier. Publizistik. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11616-020-00576-6

Bennett, W. L., & Pfetsch, B. (2018). Rethinking political communication in a time of disrupted public spheres. Journal of Communication, 68(2), 243–253. https://doi.org/10.1093/joc/jqx017

Canel, M. J., & Voltmer, K. (Eds.). (2014). Comparing political communication across time and space. Palgrave Macmillan UK. https://doi.org/10.1057/9781137366474

Chadwick, A. (2017). The hybrid media system: Politics and power (2nd ed.). Oxford University Press.

Esser, F., & Hanitzsch, T. (2012). Handbook of comparative communication research. Routledge. http://site.ebrary.com/id/10542181

Esser, F., Pfetsch, B., & MyiLibrary. (2004). Comparing political communication: Theories, cases, and challenges. Cambridge University Press. http://www.myilibrary.com?id=70209

Flew, T., & Waisbord, S. (2015). The ongoing significance of national media systems in the context of media globalization. Media, Culture & Society, 37(4), 620–636. https://doi.org/10.1177/0163443714566903

Hallin, D. C. (2020). Comparative media studies in the digital age: Comparative research, system change, and the complexity of media systems. International Journal of Communication, 14, 12.

Hallin, D. C., & Mancini, P. (2010). Comparing media systems: A response to critics. Media & Jornalismo, 9(2), 53–67.

Hallin, D. C., & Mancini, P. (Eds.). (2012). Comparing media systems beyond the Western world. Cambridge University Press.

Hardy, J. (2021). Media systems and misinformation. In H. Tumber & S. Waisbord (Eds.), The Routledge companion to media disinformation and populism (pp. 59–70). Routledge.

Humprecht, E., Esser, F., & Van Aelst, P. (2020). Resilience to online disinformation: A framework for cross-national comparative research. The International Journal of Press/Politics, 25(3), 493-516. https://doi.org/10.1177/1940161219900126

Labio-Bernal, A., Rubira-García, R., & Pocevicienė, R. (2024). Comparing media systems: A new critical academic reading. Media and Communication, 12, 8357. https://doi.org/10.17645/mac.8357

Livingstone, S. (2012). Challenges to comparative research in a globalizing media landscape. In F. Esser & T. Hanitzsch (Eds.), Handbook of comparative communication research (pp. 415–429). Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. http://site.ebrary.com/id/10542181

Mancini, P. (2020). Comparing media systems and the digital age. International Journal of Communication, 14, 14.

Matassi, M., & Boczkowski, P. J. (2023). To know is to compare: Studying social media across nations, media, and platforms. The MIT Press.

Newman, N., Fletcher, R., Robertson, C. T., Arguedas, A. R., & Nielsen, R. K. (2024). Digital news report. Reuters Institute. https://reutersinstitute.politics.ox.ac.uk/sites/default/files/2024-06/RISJ_DNR_2024_Digital_v10%20lr.pdf

Norris, P. (2009). Comparative political communications: Common frameworks or Babelian confusion? Government and Opposition, 44(3), 321–340. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1477-7053.2009.01290.x

Park, M.-J., & Curran, J. (Eds.). (2000). De-westernizing media studies. Routledge.

Richter, C., Grüne, A., Hafez, K., Fiedler, A., Behmer, M., Horz-Ishak, C., Badr, H., Litvinenko, A., Hahn, O., Radue, M., Sarısakaloğlu, A., Löffelholz, M., Fengler, S., Illg, B., Hamidi, K., Hanitzsch, T., & Thomaß, B. (2023). Die „tiefe Internationalisierung“ der deutschen Kommunikationswissenschaft?: Eine Evaluation der Personal- und Forschungsstrukturen sowie der Lehrprogramme deutscher Hochschulen. Global Media Journal – German Edition, 13(1). https://doi.org/10.22032/DBT.57904

Richter, C., Radue, M., Horz-Ishak, C., Litvinenko, A., Badr, H., & Fiedler, A. (Eds.). (2025). Cosmopolitan communication studies: Toward deep internationalization. Transcript.

Rössler, P. (2011). Comparative content analysis. In F. Esser & T. Hanitzsch (Eds.), The handbook of comparative communication research (pp. 459–468). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203149102.ch29

Voltmer, K. (2012). How far can media systems travel? Applying Hallin and Mancini’s comparative framework outside the Western world. In D. C. Hallin & P. Mancini (Eds.), Comparing media systems beyond the Western world (pp. 224–245). Cambridge University Press.

Vos, T. P. (2019). Journalists as gatekeepers. In K. Wahl-Jorgensen & T. Hanitzsch (Eds.), The handbook of journalism studies (2nd ed., pp. 90–104). Routledge.

Waisbord, S. (2015). In C.-C. Lee (Ed.), Internationalizing ‘international communication’ (pp. 178–200). University of Michigan Press. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv65sxh2

Waisbord, S. (2018). The elective affinity between post-truth communication and populist politics. Communication Research and Practice, 4(1), 17–34. https://doi.org/10.1080/22041451.2018.1428928

Ward, S. J. A. (2020). Objectively engaged journalism: An ethic. McGill-Queens University Press.

Regina Cazzamatta is a postdoctoral researcher and lecturer in the Department of Media and Communication Studies at the University of Erfurt. Currently, she is leading a comparative research project as principal investigator on fact-checking praxis founded by the German Research Council (DFG), entitled Disinformation Context and the Emergence of Fact-Checking Organizations in Europe and Latin America.

[1] Copyright © 2025 Regina Cazzamatta. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

Qualitative Methods Beyond the Recipe Book: Teaching How to Conduct Interviews[1]

Matthew Powers, University of Washington

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103949-7, PDF

Methods are often taught like recipes, and qualitative methods are no exception. Take interviews. Most of the commonly used texts in classes on this topic share a common structure. Starting with a research question, they proceed through various stages: sampling and recruitment, designing and piloting questionnaires, conducting interviews, transcribing and analyzing data, writing up the results[2].  Each of these steps can be approached in various ways, and the best texts provide insights into their respective strengths and limitations. But the overall logic is that of a recipe book: follow the guidelines, get the expected result.

This approach is both important and misleading. It demystifies the research process, showing the concrete steps involved in moving from project idea to practical implementation. This is no small feat and mitigates against the still-too-common tendency toward crypticism in the description of analytical decisions in qualitative research[3].  But interviews are also social relations (Bourdieu, 1996). Unlike recipes, which should work regardless of the person cooking, interviews are done by social agents that occupy specific positions (e.g., professor, student, journalist, politician, each with their own biographies and trajectories). These positions shape the very discourses produced in interviews. Accounting for their effect, therefore, ought to be a basic feature of interviewing pedagogy.

“Review your definitions!”

A simple example can illustrate the idea and apply it to those who study political communication. In our comparative analysis of political journalists in France and the United States, Sandra Vera-Zambrano and I did pilot interviews with reporters in both countries. One question we asked was whether they had received pay for their work. This question was motivated by extant scholarship that finds a growth in unpaid labor for such journalists in both Western Europe and North America (Chadna and Steiner, 2022). This scholarship is part of the discourse that shapes academic understandings of political journalism. It’s available to those who have access to libraries that subscribe to research journals and hold positions that afford the time to read such research.

This academic discourse sometimes clashed with journalists’ own discourses. In France, for example, one person took exception to the question itself. “It’s not journalism if one is not paid,” she responded. “You have to review your definitions!”

What’s important to know is that political journalists in France do engage in unpaid labor, especially early in their careers. In fact, the number of internships that an aspiring journalist does has been growing steadily over time (LaFarge and Marchetti, 2011; Powers and Vera-Zambrano, 2023). But these internships are not seen as experiences in professional journalism. They are seen, instead, as preparation for experience in professional journalism. Therefore, we had to change the question in France to ask whether political reporters did internships before becoming professional journalists.

This is a simple but telling example. Especially in the early stages of the project, it is common to have awkward experiences in interviews because the researcher is moving between academic scholarship (and its discourses) and the worlds of the interviewees (and their discourses). Pilot interviews, for good reason, are part of the recipe for identifying these problems. But the source of the problem lay elsewhere – in the two social worlds and their distance.

Making Common

Seen as a social relation, the purpose of interviews can be stated as an effort to communicate – literally, to “make common,” in the etymological sense of the term. What is being made common via the interview is the definition of the social phenomenon under investigation.

This sounds easy but is tough to do. You cannot simply ask your research question, as it is posed in the scholarly literature, and expect your interviewees to give coherent or meaningful responses. It also takes work because it is easy to accept the discourses that interviewees provide in their responses as truth, rather than as a starting point from which we can construct a shared understanding. This is the kernel of truth in the recurrent criticism that interviews equate what people say with what they do (Jerolmack and Khan, 2014; Ryfe, 2018). Rather than abandon the technique, it invites us to do better interviews.

Early in the research project mentioned above, Sandra and I examined the formation of online political news sites in France and the United States.^[4] We knew there were a lot in the US and surprisingly few in France, especially outside of Paris. We wanted to ascertain why this was the case. Interviews with people who founded online sites were one part of our research strategy to answer the question.

Below is the response we received when asking a political journalist (male, 40s, who worked previously in the state capital of Olympia, Washington) about the initial idea for his startup. Note how stylized his response is.

I’d been at [local newspaper] for 9 years and, you know, that’s a good run. Like any long run, I had plusses and minuses. So I kind of left it like, “yeah, it’s time to get out of here!”

And that era—the 2008/2009 time—was the beginning of the great recession…People were freaking out about the death of newspapers…For people that have just grown up like me with newspapers and had never…envision this new world. It was kind of scary and exciting.

So those two things coalesced, and there was just this kind of clear opportunity to report on Olympia. So I just saw an opportunity to, well, start a site that covered Olympia….That’s the genesis of it.

This is a narrative that frames his decision to form a startup primarily as a brave individual decision. One could stop there, and say that online-only political news sites are formed by brave individuals in turbulent moments. It wouldn’t be untrue. But it would simply reproduce the respondent’s own definition of startup formation.

We knew, based on prior scholarly research (i.e., our discourse), that some hypotheses about startup formation highlighted individual traits like business acumen and technical skill. So we followed up and pushed him to be more specific.

So you started the site in January 2009. How did you do the basic stuff like find office space or funding? Can you take me through those steps?

God, I have to remember this to be accurate here! Ok, so I knew a couple of wealthier people, some people who had money…and were fans of my work, liked me, and trusted me as a journalist. One of them wrote me this check so I could basically live for, you know, about 3 months, and make rent. I remember now those days…

Here we are beginning to “make common” our understanding of the formation of online only political news sites. He is telling us that he had social networks that gave him access to funding, and that these networks were based partly on being recognized as a “good” journalist. Notice that “making common” is not proving pre-existing scholarly hypotheses right or mechanically applying some theoretical precepts. In this study, actually, we end up learning that business acumen and technology skills are relatively unimportant. Instead, social networks and peer recognition matter more.

Also notice his very first response to the question. “God, I have to remember this to be accurate!” This suggests that this is not the narrative he is used to telling, and that one implication of our effort to “make common” is to get interviewees to lose control of their stylized discourses.

Competence and Reflexivity

The recipe approach to teaching interviews cultivates an important form of procedural competence. Without it, students would be far less equipped to carry out qualitative research. But this approach also risks conferring an illusory stability, as if good results stem from following a series of steps. In reality, interviews are encounters among agents located in specific social fields, each with its own hierarchies, discourses and stakes. To treat interviews as an effort to “make common” is to take seriously the social dimension of these encounters.

The pedagogical implications of this perspective are straightforward. Because interviews are social relations, interviews themselves cannot disclose the relational world behind the person talking. You cannot, in other words, get the interviewee to provide more or better information unless you know what kind of information you want. This requires all sorts of legwork both before and after the interview itself. It entails knowing the state of the academic literature, of course. It also requires the existence of some theoretical principles that guide the interviewer in the very questions they bother to ask. And it entails a constant theorization of the interview itself – i.e., an understanding of what the respondent understands herself to be answering. Those issues aren’t typically part of the standard recipe book approach. But it doesn’t make them any less central to an effective interview.

In this sense, interviewing is not only a communicative act but a reflexive one. It is the product of negotiation, itself ongoing, between what the researcher knows and what the interviewee reveals. At their best, interviews are not mere techniques for extracting data – though that’s certainly one use. They are also moments of discovery, where both parties move beyond the surface answers to create a common understanding of the phenomena under investigation. To do this, one needs to grasp the social positions that shape the very possibility of “making common” in the first place. In other words, we make common by recognizing that interviews–whatever their other virtues and vices–are, at their core, social relations.

References

Bourdieu, P. (1996). Understanding. Theory, Culture & Society, 13(2), 17–37.

Chadha, K., & Steiner, L. (Eds.). (2022). Newswork and precarity. Routledge.

Edwards, R., & Holland, J. (2023). Qualitative interviewing: Research methods. Bloomsbury Academic.

Jerolmack, C., & Khan, S. (2014). Talk is cheap: Ethnography and the attitudinal fallacy. Sociological Methods & Research, 43(2), 178–209. https://doi.org/10.1177/0049124114523396

Lafarge, G., & Marchetti, D. (2011). Les portes fermées du journalisme: L’espace social des étudiants des formations “reconnues.” Actes de la Recherche en Sciences Sociales, 189(4), 72–99.

Powers, M., & Vera-Zambrano, S. (2023). The journalist’s predicament: Difficult choices in a declining profession. Columbia University Press.

Powers, M., & Vera-Zambrano, S. (2016). Explaining the formation of online news startups in France and the United States: A field analysis. Journal of Communication, 66(5), 857–877. https://doi.org/10.1111/jcom.12253

Matthew Powers is a Professor in the Department of Communication of the University of Washington, and Co-Director of the Department’s Center for Journalism, Media and Democracy. His most recent book, co-authored with Sandra Vera-Zambrano, is The Journalist’s Predicament: Difficult C

[1] Copyright © 2025 Matthew Powers. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

[2] Weiss (1994) remains the classic overview; for an example of a more recent work with a similar structure, see Edwards and Holland (2023).

[3] The classic example is analysis of interview data, where readers are told that findings “emerged from the data.”

^[4] Powers and Vera-Zambrano (2016)

Navigating the Algorithm: Active Learning in Political Communication[1]

Sang Jung Kim, University of Iowa

Addis Dennie; Aj Dolan; Bertrand Jay; Courtney Fournier; Emma Cutsforth; Holland Smith; Maura De Cicco (Students who participated in the Political Communication project – Alphabetical Order)

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103951-5, PDF

As social media platforms have become central arenas for political communication, scholars have increasingly turned their attention to how the infrastructures of these platforms—particularly algorithmic systems—shape patterns of information consumption and perceptions of political issues (Gillespie, 2014; Bucher, 2018). Among the most widely studied concepts in this context are selective exposure, echo chambers, and filter bubbles, which collectively describe the tendency of individuals to encounter information that reinforces their preexisting beliefs (Stroud, 2008; Pariser, 2011). While these ideas remain influential in public and scholarly debates, recent empirical research suggests a more nuanced understanding of algorithmic curation, showing that its effects on political perceptions are highly context-dependent and often overstated (Flaxman et al., 2016; Guess et al., 2018).

Nevertheless, these conceptual frameworks continue to serve as critical entry points for students to understand how digital platforms shape political realities. In an era when political actors, institutions, and citizens increasingly rely on algorithm-curated media for information, students must develop the analytical tools to interrogate these systems. This is especially crucial given the growing role of social media platforms in shaping political perceptions among younger audiences. Without this foundation, students risk becoming passive consumers of political information, unable to recognize the subtle but powerful ways in which algorithmic governance influences what is seen, believed, and acted upon.

While traditional lectures effectively introduce undergraduate students to theoretical foundations of algorithmic influence, fully grasping the subtle yet pervasive effects of algorithms on political attitudes requires active observation and hands-on experience. To complement traditional instructional methods, we designed and implemented a semester-long final project focused on directly observing YouTube algorithmic recommendations within an experimental setting in our undergraduate political communication course. This collaborative, project-based approach offered two notable advantages. First, it allowed students to directly experience how algorithms shape information exposure and political perceptions, moving theory into practice through structured observations on platforms like YouTube. Second, by engaging collectively in the experimental design, we gained a deeper critical understanding of research methodologies. By designing and conducting these experiments together, students actively developed insights into methodological rigor, ethical considerations, and the complexities involved in empirically studying digital platforms and political phenomena.

Project Design: Investigating Algorithmic Influence

Before conducting the final project, students were introduced to foundational concepts in digital political communication, specifically selective exposure, filter bubbles, and echo chambers. To ensure students deeply understood these phenomena, we first engaged in structured discussions where students reflected on their personal experiences and observations. By sharing their own encounters with algorithmic recommendations and online information environments, students began connecting theoretical concepts to real-life contexts, laying a foundation for the subsequent experimental project.

Next, students were divided into two groups, each receiving a dedicated “burner laptop”—a clean device specifically prepared for the project. These laptops had no prior browsing history, cookies, or user data, ensuring a neutral starting point free from algorithmic biases or personalization. By using these devices, students could monitor how YouTube’s recommendation algorithms evolved solely based on their experimental actions. This methodological precaution enabled students to isolate and accurately observe the impact of specific viewing behaviors and content interactions on the platform’s algorithmic recommendations.

After setting up these devices, each student group created a new Google profile specifically for the experiment. To systematically observe how ideological preferences influenced YouTube’s algorithmic recommendations, one group subscribed exclusively to channels associated with conservative ideology, while the other subscribed exclusively to channels aligned with liberal ideology. These channels included not only traditional news sources but also prominent social media commentators and influencers known for ideologically oriented content. To ensure thoughtful and representative selection, we held collaborative classroom-based discussions in which students proposed, debated, and finalized the channel lists for each ideological category. By diversifying the subscription lists beyond mainstream news to encompass various types of political content creators, students better reflected the broader, real-world consumption patterns shaping algorithmic recommendation behaviors.

Once the subscriptions were finalized, students began systematically engaging with their assigned content. Specifically, they watched the most recent videos and Shorts posted by the selected channels, thereby establishing a viewing history that allowed YouTube’s recommendation algorithm to generate personalized suggestions. Starting the following week and continuing throughout the semester, students documented the top three videos recommended by YouTube on their homepage feeds each time they logged in. Students recorded details for each recommended video, including the channel name, the overall political or ideological stance conveyed, and the specific political or social issue discussed. This detailed approach allowed students to not only observe broad patterns in algorithmic recommendation but also to analyze more subtle dynamics, such as the types of topics or ideological framing that tended to appear more frequently over time. Through this systematic categorization and documentation, students gained nuanced insights into the relationship between initial viewing preferences, algorithmic behavior, and ongoing political information exposure.

Finally, as the final task of this project, students analyzed the collected data using both qualitative and quantitative methods to identify trends and patterns in YouTube’s algorithmic recommendations over the semester. Qualitatively, students performed thematic analysis, categorizing the content of recommended videos based on recurring topics, ideological stances, and framing techniques. Quantitatively, they conducted proportion comparisons, systematically assessing the frequency and distribution of recommended channels, ideological leanings, and political issues. Each group examined how their initial ideological subscriptions influenced these patterns. The course concluded with an interactive classroom discussion in which students compared and contrasted findings across groups, highlighting key differences in how YouTube’s algorithm responded to conservative versus liberal viewing histories. This reflective session enabled students to critically interpret their combined qualitative and quantitative findings, deepening their understanding of the broader implications of algorithmic curation on political information consumption and polarization.

Project Results: Pronounced Effects of Echo Chamber/ Filter Bubble

Our analysis revealed clear yet nuanced patterns regarding how YouTube’s recommendation algorithm responded to initial ideological alignments established by channel subscriptions. Both groups provided evidence of echo chambers and filter bubbles; however, these phenomena were less pronounced than we originally anticipated.

In the group subscribed to conservative-oriented YouTube channels, social media commentary channels significantly outweighed traditional news channels in the platform’s recommendations. Channels such as “Brett Cooper” (@bbrettcooper) and “Amir Odom” (@amirxodom) appeared prominently and frequently in students’ homepage feeds. Although videos from Fox News were regularly recommended, these predominantly consisted of segments from “Fox & Friends,” which is primarily a commentary-driven program. This suggests a notable algorithmic preference for recommending opinion-based or commentary-focused content over traditional news reporting, even within mainstream conservative media.

Interestingly, we observed that over the semester, the recommended social commentary videos gradually shifted toward greater neutrality, exhibiting fewer instances of explicitly conservative rhetoric. This shift became particularly pronounced as more political events unfolded during the first 100 days of the Trump administration. While our findings cannot be broadly generalized without additional evidence, this suggests two potential interpretations: either the conservative-oriented social commentators adjusted their rhetoric in response to ongoing political developments, or YouTube’s algorithm itself adapted recommendations toward content with broader appeal or less explicitly partisan framing.

In the group subscribed to liberal-oriented YouTube channels, students initially found that YouTube’s recommendations included several videos unrelated to politics, featuring topics such as science or food. The group informally labeled this initial pattern as the “PBS[2] effect,” noting that even though PBS (@PBS) is classified as left-center by Media Bias Fact Check, it predominantly produces educational and general-interest videos rather than explicitly political content. Because the group had subscribed to PBS, YouTube’s algorithm initially prioritized recommending educational and general-interest videos. This highlighted a notable difference in the algorithm’s initial response compared to the conservative-oriented subscriptions, indicating that subscribing to liberal channels did not immediately or exclusively trigger strongly partisan content recommendations.

To investigate if this initial pattern would persist or shift toward a clearer ideological echo chamber or filter bubble, the group intentionally adjusted their viewing habits by selecting more explicitly political videos recommended on their YouTube homepage. This deliberate shift led the algorithm to increasingly recommend explicitly political social commentary videos, primarily from channels such as Secular Talk (@SecularTalk).[3] These recommendations predominantly featured reactions to events involving Donald Trump and Elon Musk, characterized by a strongly emotional and reactionary tone.

Across both ideological groups, our findings provide evidence of echo chambers and filter bubbles influenced by initial channel subscriptions. Nonetheless, the magnitude of these effects appeared weaker and less consistent than initially expected. Rather than strongly reinforcing ideological isolation, the algorithm showed moderate tendencies toward ideological reinforcement, accompanied by periodic shifts toward broader or more neutral content. These observations collectively suggest a more nuanced understanding of YouTube’s algorithmic behavior, indicating the platform may not foster ideological isolation or extreme polarization as aggressively as commonly perceived.

Learning Beyond Lectures: Students’ Reflections on Experiential Learning

When students were asked how this experiment might be improved in future replications, they suggested including a “control group,” which would subscribe exclusively to YouTube channels unrelated to political content, thereby providing a baseline for comparison. Also, students further suggested that it would be better to examine YouTube recommendations on the sidebar rather than on the homepage, considering YouTube users’ watching behaviors. Students also made clear that the results from our project is not generalizable, as the size of the data was small. These suggestions demonstrate that students clearly understood the importance of including a control condition in experimental design, as well as the significance of ensuring ecological validity by closely reflecting real-world viewing behaviors. Although these methodological principles were not explicitly taught through traditional lectures, students effectively learned and internalized them through the process of conducting the experiment itself.

Students also reflected deeply on how the project shaped their perspectives on future interactions with social media. Many reported heightened awareness of algorithmic influence and developed a more critical mindset toward online political content. As Courtney expressed, “The knowledge I’ve gained about algorithms and echo chambers will help me in the future to understand the videos that come up on my recommended page and understand why certain videos pop up on my social media.” Similarly, Holland reflected, “I learned how what you watch matters—it heavily affects how you get your news and learn information. This project showed me the importance in being impartial when looking for news and how content creators are not always the correct source, even if their job is citizen journalism.” These student reflections highlight the project’s significant impact, not only in terms of conceptual understanding but also in shaping their future approaches to digital media consumption and engagement.

This project underscores the significant educational value of experiential learning in political communication, particularly when teaching complex phenomena such as effects of social media algorithms. Students’ reflections further demonstrated the effectiveness of this hands-on learning approach, demonstrating that experiential activities can significantly shape how they critically interact with and interpret social media content in their daily lives. Moving forward, educators should increasingly adopt such active, inquiry-driven methods, equipping students as critically engaged citizens capable of thoughtfully navigating the digital political environment.

References

Brittanica (2025). PBS. Retrieved from https://www.britannica.com/topic/Public-Broadcasting-Service

Bucher, T. (2018). If… Then: Algorithmic power and politics. Oxford University Press.

Flaxman, S., Goel, S., & Rao, J. M. (2016). Filter bubbles, echo chambers, and online news consumption. Public Opinion Quarterly, 80(S1), 298–320. https://doi.org/10.1093/poq/nfw006

Gillespie, T. (2014). The relevance of algorithms. In T. Gillespie, P. J. Boczkowski, & K. A. Foot (Eds.), Media technologies: Essays on communication, materiality, and society (pp. 167–194). MIT Press.

Guess, A. M., Nyhan, B., & Reifler, J. (2018). Selective exposure to misinformation: Evidence from the consumption of fake news during the 2016 U.S. presidential campaign. European Research Council Working Paper.

Pariser, E. (2011). The filter bubble: What the Internet is hiding from you. Penguin Press.

Secular Talk. (2025). Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/user/SecularTalk.

Stroud, N. J. (2008). Media use and political predispositions: Revisiting the concept of selective exposure. Political Behavior, 30(3), 341–366.

Sang Jung Kim is an assistant professor in the School of Journalism and Mass Communication at the University of Iowa. Her research focuses on the interaction between technology, politics, and social identity, with particular attention to the mediating role of social media platforms and the spread of information to the public.

[1] Copyright © 2025 Sang Jung Kim. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

[2] PBS, or the Public Broadcasting Service, is a private, nonprofit American corporation composed of public television stations across the United States that provides educational and cultural content to the public (Brittanica, 2025).

[3] Secular Talk is a progressive political commentary hosted by Kyle Kulinski (Secular Talk, 2025).

The Political Communication Teaching Database: A Resource for Pedagogical Inspiration and Innovation[1]

Michael Bossetta, Lund University

Isabella Gonçalves, Johannes Gutenberg University Mainz

https://nbn-resolving.org/urn:nbn:de:0168-ssoar-103944-6, PDF

An excellent teacher is often portrayed as someone who engages deeply with students, guiding them to think critically and envision a better future. This figure is sometimes romanticized in popular culture, as in Dead Poets Society, where the teacher becomes a catalyst for students to think independently, challenge authority, and pursue lives of purpose. Such portrayals highlight the potential of educators to challenge hierarchies and inspire civic engagement.

As political communication scholars, our community embraces this transformative potential while advancing research that shapes media debates and informs public policy. However, one of our most direct and enduring contributions to society is through our teaching. Our scholarship, when incorporated into educational materials, can teach students how to approach knowledge critically, identify injustices, and apply what they’ve learned to make a meaningful impact on the world. At its best, political communication education prepares students to be better citizens and equips them to become change agents in society.

Yet, the importance of teaching is often overshadowed by research, and we currently lack a common platform to share, discuss, and develop best practices for teaching our field. We developed the Political Communication Teaching Database[2] to help foster such a platform. The database offers an online repository where teachers can share their course materials for others in the community to view, download, and adapt for use in their own courses.

In this report, we first outline how the database works and how you can contribute to it. Then, we explain our motivations for developing the database. While it is certainly a resource aimed at helping us improve our courses and teaching, these motivations are secondary to improving learning for our students. Significant advancements in the quality of teaching and learning for political communication require more than a database. Therefore, the third aim of this report is to call upon our division to more actively engage with, and contribute to, the scholarship of teaching and learning (SoTL) within political education.

We hope that in the near-term, the database serves as a useful resource for pedagogical inspiration and the exchange of effective teaching strategies. However, our longer-term vision is that the database works to facilitate teaching collaborations, spur pedagogical innovation, and encourage the reporting of best practices in the political education scholarship. Given the increased societal importance of our research, it is high time to dedicate more effort to ensuring that our teaching practices are as cutting edge, evidence based, and socially impactful as our research.

Database Functionality: How to Upload and How to Search

The database relies on contributions from teachers, who can upload teaching materials using this form. In practice, the materials are not actually transferred to the database. Instead, contributors generate a shared link to a folder where their materials are stored locally (such as Google Drive, Dropbox, or a university repository). In addition to this shared link, the form collects information such as: an upload description, the language and education level of materials, the areas of political communication they are relevant for, and types of materials included (e.g., lectures, seminars, assignments, etc.). Please see the upload guide for more detailed information on what the form includes, as well as some tips to structure your materials and help others find them.

The information collected through the form is used to index the uploaded materials, so that they are searchable in the database. There are three main ways to search the database, and each returns a spreadsheet that includes: the upload title, the instructor’s name, the language of materials, and a short preview of the upload description. If you click on a row, you will be presented with the full information about the upload, as well as the link to download the materials. Thus, the preview allows you to get an overview of returned results and cycle through them quickly. Then, you can click on each row to read more information about the upload and decide whether you would like to download the materials. Below, we provide a brief overview of the three search methods, which are discussed in more detail in the database’s “Search Guide.” 

The first search method is a free text search, which will return results that match keywords from the form. Importantly, the free text search matches keywords that contributors write themselves in the upload description, which allows contributors to add information beyond what is asked in the form. The second search method is to use filters, which help narrow the results by language, education level, types of materials, and a set of 50 thematic tags relating to various areas of political communication (e.g., “Activism/Social Movements,” “Public Opinion,” or “Qualitative Methodology”).

If neither of the above methods is sufficiently useful or specific enough, you can combine filters with a free text search. With this third search method, you would first set a series of filters: for example, on the language of instruction and the educational level you teach. Then, you can enter your own keywords in the search bar to see if there are results that match your keywords within the filters (in this example, the language and education level you have set).

Likely, you will need to try each of the search methods to uncover what works best for your use case, given the current set of materials uploaded to the database. If you find that no suitable materials exist in the database, we hope that you develop them and upload them for others to use.

Motivations: Why is Teaching so Overlooked?

For over three decades, universities have actively promoted the “research/teaching nexus”—i.e., the idea that these two pillars of higher education should have a strong relation to one another (Tight, 2016). It is perhaps indicative of a broader bias that the word research comes first, since the research/teaching nexus is often conceptualized (and marketed by universities) as research-led teaching. Research-led teaching entails that teachers should also be active researchers in the subjects they teach, despite empirical evidence that there is no correlation between research output and teaching effectiveness (Hattie and Marsh, 1996). Nevertheless, the prioritization of research over teaching is reinforced both culturally and institutionally in universities worldwide.

For example, we regularly read, review, and write publications that relate to our research interests. However, estimates suggest that nearly one-third of political educators have never read an article, chapter, or book on the scholarship of teaching and learning, or SoTL (Doleys, 2025). Yet, we’d wager that the majority of members in our community teach and further, that there is an imbalance in attention to the SoTL scholarship relative to our teaching loads.

In other words, many of us are contractually obliged to teach at a significant percentage of our working time. However, few of us likely pay proportionate attention to the state-of-the-art in pedagogical best practices around important aspects such as: course design, assessment methodologies, and the accommodation of diverse learning preferences and (dis)abilities. Such a culture is rather unsurprising when one considers its institutional determinants, beginning at the doctoral level. Most doctoral students receive little—if any—pedagogical training (Stein, 2024). Nevertheless, they are often thrust into the classroom and, in some contexts, are even tasked with developing entire courses with minimal guidance on how to do so.

Overlooking the scholarship of teaching and learning is, in many cases, institutionally reinforced: pedagogical research tends to be undervalued in hiring decisions, tenure applications, and grant funding. While inattention to SoTL doesn’t necessarily make us bad teachers, it likely implies that we are missing the opportunity to make very small changes to our teaching that can have a huge impact for students. Simple tweaks such as adapting slides, setting clear expectations for assignments through ‘transparent’ instructions (Winkelmes et al., 2016), or utilizing classroom assessment techniques (CATs) can help students learn while simultaneously helping us identify what is—and is not—working to achieve learning in our classrooms.

While we design our teaching with the best of intentions, we often rely on our own assessments to evaluate our own effectiveness. If students did the same, then everyone would receive an “A.” Assessment requires external evaluation by definition, and the Teaching Database is one way to “open up” our teaching materials for others to view, use, and ultimately help improve the effectiveness of our teaching as a community.

A Call to Contribute: To the Database, and to a Pedagogy of Political Communication

Why create a Political Communication Teaching Database? On the one hand, it’s inherently valuable to see how others are teaching our discipline, and it’s certainly practical to share materials to reduce the time that we spend on developing classes and courses. Yet, on the other hand, we hope that the database orients a much-needed focus to researching our teaching, developing best practices for the community, and sharing our results to benefit the scholarship of teaching and learning more broadly.

Despite being one of the largest divisions within ICA and APSA, Political Communication does not register as a field that contributes to the political education literature, which is consistently dominated by International Relations, American Politics, and Civic Engagement (e.g., Craig, 2014; Kammerer & Higashi, 2021; Murphy et al., 2023). Many of our courses teach these topics from a communication perspective, but we are not yet recognized in this literature as a field in our own right. In our view, correcting this oversight is not only feasible; it is a worthwhile endeavor that can significantly improve the quality of political communication education for our students.

Journals such as the Journal of Political Science Education, European Political Science, International Studies Perspectives, and PS: Political Science and Politics actively solicit submissions that offer reflections of teaching experiences, reports of pedagogical innovations, or empirical assessments of learning. These submissions are often shorter than research articles (e.g., 4,000-5,000 words instead of 8,000), have much higher acceptance rates (e.g., 60% versus 10%), and have significantly lower methodological requirements than those that we are used to with political communication research. For example, a few focus groups with students or a pre-and post-assignment survey, even with small-N’s, can help evaluate a new assignment or teaching intervention where evidence is sorely lacking.

Yet, these lower barriers to publication do not imply that publishing in pedagogical journals is “easy.” Doing so requires thorough with engagement with SoTL research, which is time well spent for at least three reasons. First, learning from the literature on learning helps teachers impart knowledge more effectively, cater to student diversity, and align teaching methods to best prepare students to be active and participatory citizens. Second, although teaching resources are scarce, investing time to learn principles of course and assignment design pays dividends as courses are taught over multiple semesters or handed over to other, potentially more inexperienced teachers. Third—and probably most valued by our students—ensuring that assessment practices are transparent, equitable, and fair helps reduce biases in our grading and mitigate complaints from students. In short, investing time in the research on teaching pays off for students (better learning), for teachers (better evaluations), and for teacher-researchers (better understanding of how to identify, test, and ultimately advance the pedagogical state-of-the-art).

A Resource for Pedagogical Inspiration and Innovation

Undoubtedly, excellent teaching and learning practices are happening within political communication classrooms worldwide. However, this excellence is difficult for the community to see without a shared repository of materials, and it is even more difficult to assess without a concerted effort toward researching (and publishing) our teaching best practices in the scholarship of teaching and learning. In some ways, our community’s lack of presence in the political education literature is a disadvantage, as we do not have a vast repository of effective teaching materials to draw from. The Political Communication Teaching Database is one step towards improving how and what we teach.

Yet in other ways, a lack of collective teaching knowledge positions us well to chart a new path forward. Fields with less presence in the education literature are in prime position to design new innovations in teaching practices. As Krippendorf argues (2011, 416), design is different from the process of “re-search”—that is, explaining the present through the past. Rather, design “creates new futures by suggesting how to intervene in the present,” by exploring “what is variable [and] combinable into new artifacts.” When design principles are applied to teaching, new assignments can be created by drawing inspiration from the political education literature and combining them to teach key aspects of political communication to our students in novel ways (Bossetta, In Press).

Our intent is that the Teaching Database serves as a resource for teaching inspiration and innovation, rather than “just” replication. That is to say, it is unlikely that a lecture or seminar activity that you find in the database will be a perfect fit for your course. Factors such as different class lengths, student numbers, and institutional cultures work against the one-to-one replication of course materials from one context to another. However, by engaging with SoTL research, teachers from our community can learn how to best make these adaptations, innovate new teaching strategies, and hopefully share their experiences in the literature to positively impact the political education scholarship more broadly.

We all strive to be better teachers. We want our students to learn, to enjoy learning, and to apply what they’ve learned to thrive in the world. However, the Teaching Database was not built only to make us better teachers. Rather, it was built to help us better fulfill our responsibility as educators to transfer, receive, and co-create knowledge with our students. Our time with students is short, but when political communication is taught with care, attention, and purpose, it can fundamentally change how students understand power, challenge injustice, and engage in civic life. We hope the Teaching Database sharpens our shared sense of responsibility as educators—and sparks the kind of pedagogical innovation that empowers students to strive to shape the world far beyond our classrooms.

References

Bossetta, M. (In Press). Element Design for Active Learning: A Design Thinking Approach to Assignment Development for Political Science, Media, and Communication Education. Journal of Political Science Education. https://doi.org/10.17605/OSF.IO/D3J85

Craig, J. (2014). What have we been writing about?: Patterns and trends in the scholarship of teaching and learning in Political Science. Journal of Political Science Education, 10(1), 23-36. https://doi.org/10.1080/15512169.2013.859086

Doleys, T. J. (2025). Who’s Listening (Now)? Trends in Faculty Engagement with SoTL Scholarship in Political Science. Journal of Political Science Education, 1-15. https://doi.org/10.1080/15512169.2024.2439824

Hattie, J., & Marsh, H. W. (1996). The relationship between research and teaching: A meta-analysis. Review of Educational Research, 66(4), 507-542. https://doi.org/10.3102/00346543066004507

Kammerer Jr, E. F., & Higashi, B. (2021). Simulations research in political science pedagogy: Where is everyone?. Journal of Political Science Education, 17(1), 142-147. https://doi.org/10.1080/15512169.2021.1920420

Krippendorff, K. (2011). Principles of design and a trajectory of artificiality. Journal of product innovation management, 28(3), 411-418.

Murphy, M. P., Heffernan, A., Dunton, C., & Arsenault, A. C. (2023). The disciplinary scholarship of teaching and learning in political science and international relations: Methods, topics, and impact. International Politics, 60(5), 1030-1048. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41311-022-00425-5

Stein, M. (2024). Pedagogical deficiencies in political science doctoral programs: Current practices or lack thereof. Journal of Political Science Education, 1-20. https://doi.org/10.1080/15512169.2024.2398012

Tight, M. (2016). Examining the research/teaching nexus. European Journal of Higher Education, 6(4), 293-311. https://doi.org/10.1080/21568235.2016.1224674

Winkelmes, M. A., Bernacki, M., Butler, J., Zochowski, M., Golanics, J., & Weavil, K. H. (2016). A Teaching Intervention that Increases Underserved College Students’ Success. Peer Review, 18(1/2), 31-36. Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/309351208

Michael Bossetta is an Associate Professor (Docent) in the Department of Communication at Lund University, where he specializes in the impact of social media on politics. His research focuses on how politicians and citizens use social media during elections.

Isabella Gonçalves is a postdoctoral researcher at Johannes Gutenberg University Mainz. Her research focuses on how journalists and political actors use the media to frame contentious issues such as the environment, migration, and gender.

[1] Copyright © 2025 Michael Bossetta & Isabella Gonçalves. Licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution Non-commercial No Derivatives (by-nc-nd). Available at https://politicalcommunication.org.

[2] Currently the database is in offline beta mode as we collect uploads – the database will go live in Fall 2025, once we have collected enough uploads to populate it.