Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to my friends, family, colleagues, and readers.
Like many people, during the last week of December I’m naturally drawn to reflect back on the past year; things that I’ve done (stayed home during the pandemic), places I’ve gone (the grocery store, while wearing a mask), and things that I’ve seen (people not properly wearing their masks at grocery stores).
One of those activities is my blog.
Although writing the blog has often been challenging, it has also been a rewarding experience, including helping me to stay focused and relatively sane in the midst of the crazy times we live in.
In closing out the second calendar year of blogging, I thought it might be interesting to check and see which of my pieces attracted the most attention.
If you want to engage in this frivolity, you can find the top ten most viewed blog posts of 2021 below.
Below are the blogs, listed in ascending order of views.
There have been a number of attempts to link the rise in homicides in the United States to the defund the police movement, bail reform, or the Ferguson effect. These explanations are mostly red herrings. More subtle processes are going on.
Lots of children, for no fault of their own, get caught up in the juvenile justice system. Here are some strategies for minimizing this from occurring.
Graffiti and street art is abundant in most large urban centers. Instead of summarily dismissing it as mindless vandalism, it’s important to appreciate its complexity and the creativity of many of its practitioners.
Being a correctional, parole, probation, or police officer requires numerous skills. One of the most overlooked, but important, is an ability to communicate effectively by writing. Here is why.
Much of what the public is exposed to and that they learn about jails and prisons is exaggerated. Not only do I argue how this occurs, but I suggest some strategies to avoid this situation.
Many people are mistakenly called or uncritically assume the title of criminologist. Not only is this disingenuous, but it is dangerous. Instead I lay out some of the basic attributes of what the profession regards as hallmarks of this profession.
Students who want to earn a doctorate and become professors must often jump through numerous hoops that bear little relationship to the jobs they eventually perform. Here are some strategies to better align their training with the demands of the job.
Journal editors have a difficult job but often complain about bad reviewers. One way to remedy this situation may lie less with the reviewers and more with the manner by which some editors interact with reviewers.
There are lots of terms that are used to refer to people who are formally incarcerated. None of them are perfect. Instead, maybe we should start with asking people who are released from correctional custody what they prefer,
The “lived experience” idea has gained traction in numerous academic and practitioner settings. Yet there appears to be a universal assumption that all people who have these kinds of background have the same kind of experience, that they have the adequate skills to communicate their insights to a wider interested public, and that they are equally motivated to press for change.
In closing, I want to thank my readers, both new and old, including the ones who have reached out to me.
I also want to acknowledge a handful of colleagues and family members who provided helpful feedback to selected drafts of some of my posts. To them I am forever grateful.
You can subscribe to the blog via icon on the right hand side of the blog.
Photo Credit: Andy TylerFollow
Planning Imagery
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/3325116123_8591d9ea45_o.jpg328364Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2021-12-30 02:33:302022-12-27 11:56:23How I killed time in 2021
Scholars are exposed to and trained how to do comprehensive literature reviews, collect data in a systematic manner, analyze this information using appropriate methods, make interpretations from this evaluation, and then subject their findings to peer review.
This process is typically resource intense and often frustrating. But this is how academics conduct rigorous scientific research.
Sometimes, for one reason or another, individuals and organizations outside of the academy (e.g., community, political, religious, or social organizations including professional/practitioner groups) reach out and ask us to give a talk or a speech in front of the group they represent or are part of.
Our initial reaction to these sorts of requests may be mixed, ranging anywhere from elation to fear.
On the other hand, given the infrequent perks that most professors get, these external invitations may seem like a relatively attractive opportunity.
After all, as part of our jobs, we present papers or give talks at learned society meetings, and some of us give lectures to a colleague’s class in our department, college, university or for a professor at another educational institution. But the invitation to a nonacademic group is a different beast.
In the early part of an academic’s career the opportunity to present in front of an audience outside the academy, may feel like a real boost to our egos. It may even allow us to check the nebulous box on our year end productivity reports that ask us if we did any community service.
After having our most recent paper rejected by a well-respected peer reviewed journal on what we believe to be tenuous or spurious grounds, it feels good to be recognized beyond the academy for the work we do. We even might ask ourselves, how often do we get this kind of public acknowledgement?
We may even get a free trip to a relatively attractive venue where we give our speech. The organizer may even allow us to bring our partner and kids along. (Imagine you giving your speech in front of a crowded room, with an attentive audience, while your family members are frolicking at the hotel’s pool).
We could even receive a small honorarium and we may even be able to spin the talk into an op-ed in a nonacademic publication, an information item that the folks working at our University’s Public Relations department might be interested in.
Occasionally these kinds of talks will allow you to make connections that you can translate into future research or consulting opportunities. They may even give you special access, often denied to outsiders, to watch the organization in action, or data for analysis.
These talks may also force you to think about the problems you typically analyze in a different manner and thus motivate you to read more deeply and widely than you normally do.
But over time, giving talks to nonacademic organizations, can also have downsides.
What are they?
There is no denying that no matter how hard you try to minimize the resource commitment; these kinds of talks will take you away from your scholarly activities. If you are a tenure track assistant professor then these kinds of talks will cut into your research time that you can be doing scholarship and publishing in peer review journals. How much time these talks takes vary on a number of easily discernible factors (e.g., location, specific subject they want you to talk on, etc.).
Most importantly, however, sometimes these kinds of speaking gigs unnecessarily lead you to take positions that you may not initially agree with or that are not based on empirical evidence.
In this situation you have been captured by the audience. And when you find yourself in this position, there are a handful of ways you can respond. One is to dig in your heals, and step up your efforts to find research or craft rebuttals to criticisms to support your unpopular position, or you can stop.
This is why scholars must choose wisely among these kinds of opportunities and to carefully and honestly gauge to whom and why you are engaging in this kind of activity. If it is ego driven, then it is probably time to stop. If you truly believe in the mission of the organization then it might be time to start thinking of yourself as more of an activist, than a scholar. These are hard choices to make. But make them you should.
Photo credit:
Brent MooreFollow
Rubber Chicken
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/378937797_d9eaafde64_o.jpg11441784Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2021-12-23 15:00:452022-10-02 12:23:39Academics shouldn’t be seduced by the rubber chicken banquet circuit
Part of the reason may be because many people fail to consider how knowledge and expertise are acquired, and the relative contributions and limitations of lived and practitioner experience to inform scholarly research.
Knowledge and expertise about a field may be accumulated a variety of different ways.
In general, and in simplest terms, there are two principle methods.
The first approach, typically starts with earning a formal education, which includes progressing through different and harder stages (e.g., bachelors, masters and doctoral degrees). During this training, mentorship, and credentialization process you conduct research and subject it to peer review. This is long and sometimes painful process. But over time hopefully this work provides important insights to move the scholarly discipline forward.
The second method, is derived through lived or practitioner experience. In this case you work in particular field, like policing or social work, and over a considerable period of time, you are hopefully exposed to a number of different situations and challenges, and learn how to effectively with them. Alternatively, you are frequently part of the subject population that the practitioners focus on, or you work closely and regularly with these individuals. In the field of criminal justice, this role may encompass being a criminal/perpetuator, district attorney, judge, or a victim of a crime. And thus you learn about a variety of subtle dynamics rarely experienced by outsiders.
Why might lived or practitioner experience be helpful for academics?
It can help them understand a variety of subtleties concerning a person, organization or situation, that they may not be aware of and/or ignored.
It can also assist scholars to understand selected elements of a discipline, but their value is typically context specific.
The fact that an academic may have interned at a police department or in a court system at some point in time in their life or career, or they consult for a police department is not the same as being in the trenches as a practitioner for an extended period of time.
On the other hand, spending a considerable amount of time as a practitioner, say for example, a correctional officer, and rising up the ranks, over a significant time frame may expose that person to lots of different situations, but it does not mean that they understand the concerns of scholars who specialize in a relevant discipline. Likewise, a well-respected gang member, may know how to survive on the mean streets, but this does not mean they are well versed in criminological theory.
Thus, it’s important to critically analyze not only the merits of academic research, particularly its ability to represent the lived reality of people, places, and situations, but at the same time not assume that all lived or practitioner experience is the same or can equally assist us to understand our relative academic disciplines.
In short, although practical and lived experience can inform our scholarship, it is not sufficient to the research enterprise.
https://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/Screen-Shot-2021-12-15-at-10.36.10-PM.png616658Jeffrey Ian Rosshttps://jeffreyianross.com/wp-content/uploads/jeffrey-ian-ross-logo-04.pngJeffrey Ian Ross2021-12-16 15:18:272021-12-16 15:18:27Although lived or practitioner experience may be helpful in understanding a field, it’s not an end in and of itself
How I killed time in 2021
/by Jeffrey Ian RossMerry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year to my friends, family, colleagues, and readers.
Like many people, during the last week of December I’m naturally drawn to reflect back on the past year; things that I’ve done (stayed home during the pandemic), places I’ve gone (the grocery store, while wearing a mask), and things that I’ve seen (people not properly wearing their masks at grocery stores).
One of those activities is my blog.
Although writing the blog has often been challenging, it has also been a rewarding experience, including helping me to stay focused and relatively sane in the midst of the crazy times we live in.
In closing out the second calendar year of blogging, I thought it might be interesting to check and see which of my pieces attracted the most attention.
If you want to engage in this frivolity, you can find the top ten most viewed blog posts of 2021 below.
Below are the blogs, listed in ascending order of views.
10. What explains the 2020 spike in murders in the United States?
There have been a number of attempts to link the rise in homicides in the United States to the defund the police movement, bail reform, or the Ferguson effect. These explanations are mostly red herrings. More subtle processes are going on.
9. Preventing our children from ending up in juvie hall
Lots of children, for no fault of their own, get caught up in the juvenile justice system. Here are some strategies for minimizing this from occurring.
8. Why developing a literacy of graffiti & street art is important
Graffiti and street art is abundant in most large urban centers. Instead of summarily dismissing it as mindless vandalism, it’s important to appreciate its complexity and the creativity of many of its practitioners.
7. Why writing well is important for Criminal Justice Practitioners
Being a correctional, parole, probation, or police officer requires numerous skills. One of the most overlooked, but important, is an ability to communicate effectively by writing. Here is why.
6. Prison Tropes “R” us: Why it’s so damn hard to reform correctional facilities in the United States
Much of what the public is exposed to and that they learn about jails and prisons is exaggerated. Not only do I argue how this occurs, but I suggest some strategies to avoid this situation.
5. Who is the real criminologist? And other uncomfortable questions about expertise
Many people are mistakenly called or uncritically assume the title of criminologist. Not only is this disingenuous, but it is dangerous. Instead I lay out some of the basic attributes of what the profession regards as hallmarks of this profession.
4. Why most graduate school requirements do not adequately prepare doctoral students for the academic job market and what can be done about it?
Students who want to earn a doctorate and become professors must often jump through numerous hoops that bear little relationship to the jobs they eventually perform. Here are some strategies to better align their training with the demands of the job.
3. How editors of academic journals can increase the willingness of scholars to review papers and get better reviews
Journal editors have a difficult job but often complain about bad reviewers. One way to remedy this situation may lie less with the reviewers and more with the manner by which some editors interact with reviewers.
2. What’s in a name? exconvict, formerly incarcerated, or returning citizen?
There are lots of terms that are used to refer to people who are formally incarcerated. None of them are perfect. Instead, maybe we should start with asking people who are released from correctional custody what they prefer,
1. Be mindful of the “lived experience fallacy” and its cousin, “those who are closest to the problem are in the best position to change it”
The “lived experience” idea has gained traction in numerous academic and practitioner settings. Yet there appears to be a universal assumption that all people who have these kinds of background have the same kind of experience, that they have the adequate skills to communicate their insights to a wider interested public, and that they are equally motivated to press for change.
In closing, I want to thank my readers, both new and old, including the ones who have reached out to me.
I also want to acknowledge a handful of colleagues and family members who provided helpful feedback to selected drafts of some of my posts. To them I am forever grateful.
You can subscribe to the blog via icon on the right hand side of the blog.
Photo Credit: Andy TylerFollow
Planning Imagery
Academics shouldn’t be seduced by the rubber chicken banquet circuit
/by Jeffrey Ian RossScholars are exposed to and trained how to do comprehensive literature reviews, collect data in a systematic manner, analyze this information using appropriate methods, make interpretations from this evaluation, and then subject their findings to peer review.
This process is typically resource intense and often frustrating. But this is how academics conduct rigorous scientific research.
Sometimes, for one reason or another, individuals and organizations outside of the academy (e.g., community, political, religious, or social organizations including professional/practitioner groups) reach out and ask us to give a talk or a speech in front of the group they represent or are part of.
Our initial reaction to these sorts of requests may be mixed, ranging anywhere from elation to fear.
On the other hand, given the infrequent perks that most professors get, these external invitations may seem like a relatively attractive opportunity.
After all, as part of our jobs, we present papers or give talks at learned society meetings, and some of us give lectures to a colleague’s class in our department, college, university or for a professor at another educational institution. But the invitation to a nonacademic group is a different beast.
In the early part of an academic’s career the opportunity to present in front of an audience outside the academy, may feel like a real boost to our egos. It may even allow us to check the nebulous box on our year end productivity reports that ask us if we did any community service.
After having our most recent paper rejected by a well-respected peer reviewed journal on what we believe to be tenuous or spurious grounds, it feels good to be recognized beyond the academy for the work we do. We even might ask ourselves, how often do we get this kind of public acknowledgement?
We may even get a free trip to a relatively attractive venue where we give our speech. The organizer may even allow us to bring our partner and kids along. (Imagine you giving your speech in front of a crowded room, with an attentive audience, while your family members are frolicking at the hotel’s pool).
We could even receive a small honorarium and we may even be able to spin the talk into an op-ed in a nonacademic publication, an information item that the folks working at our University’s Public Relations department might be interested in.
Occasionally these kinds of talks will allow you to make connections that you can translate into future research or consulting opportunities. They may even give you special access, often denied to outsiders, to watch the organization in action, or data for analysis.
These talks may also force you to think about the problems you typically analyze in a different manner and thus motivate you to read more deeply and widely than you normally do.
But over time, giving talks to nonacademic organizations, can also have downsides.
What are they?
There is no denying that no matter how hard you try to minimize the resource commitment; these kinds of talks will take you away from your scholarly activities. If you are a tenure track assistant professor then these kinds of talks will cut into your research time that you can be doing scholarship and publishing in peer review journals. How much time these talks takes vary on a number of easily discernible factors (e.g., location, specific subject they want you to talk on, etc.).
Most importantly, however, sometimes these kinds of speaking gigs unnecessarily lead you to take positions that you may not initially agree with or that are not based on empirical evidence.
In this situation you have been captured by the audience. And when you find yourself in this position, there are a handful of ways you can respond. One is to dig in your heals, and step up your efforts to find research or craft rebuttals to criticisms to support your unpopular position, or you can stop.
This is why scholars must choose wisely among these kinds of opportunities and to carefully and honestly gauge to whom and why you are engaging in this kind of activity. If it is ego driven, then it is probably time to stop. If you truly believe in the mission of the organization then it might be time to start thinking of yourself as more of an activist, than a scholar. These are hard choices to make. But make them you should.
Photo credit:
Brent MooreFollow
Rubber Chicken
Although lived or practitioner experience may be helpful in understanding a field, it’s not an end in and of itself
/by Jeffrey Ian RossA considerable amount of confusion exists surrounding the concepts and utility of lived and practitioner (or field) experience as methods to inform scholarly research.
Part of the reason may be because many people fail to consider how knowledge and expertise are acquired, and the relative contributions and limitations of lived and practitioner experience to inform scholarly research.
Knowledge and expertise about a field may be accumulated a variety of different ways.
In general, and in simplest terms, there are two principle methods.
The first approach, typically starts with earning a formal education, which includes progressing through different and harder stages (e.g., bachelors, masters and doctoral degrees). During this training, mentorship, and credentialization process you conduct research and subject it to peer review. This is long and sometimes painful process. But over time hopefully this work provides important insights to move the scholarly discipline forward.
The second method, is derived through lived or practitioner experience. In this case you work in particular field, like policing or social work, and over a considerable period of time, you are hopefully exposed to a number of different situations and challenges, and learn how to effectively with them. Alternatively, you are frequently part of the subject population that the practitioners focus on, or you work closely and regularly with these individuals. In the field of criminal justice, this role may encompass being a criminal/perpetuator, district attorney, judge, or a victim of a crime. And thus you learn about a variety of subtle dynamics rarely experienced by outsiders.
Why might lived or practitioner experience be helpful for academics?
It can help them understand a variety of subtleties concerning a person, organization or situation, that they may not be aware of and/or ignored.
It can also assist scholars to understand selected elements of a discipline, but their value is typically context specific.
The fact that an academic may have interned at a police department or in a court system at some point in time in their life or career, or they consult for a police department is not the same as being in the trenches as a practitioner for an extended period of time.
On the other hand, spending a considerable amount of time as a practitioner, say for example, a correctional officer, and rising up the ranks, over a significant time frame may expose that person to lots of different situations, but it does not mean that they understand the concerns of scholars who specialize in a relevant discipline. Likewise, a well-respected gang member, may know how to survive on the mean streets, but this does not mean they are well versed in criminological theory.
Thus, it’s important to critically analyze not only the merits of academic research, particularly its ability to represent the lived reality of people, places, and situations, but at the same time not assume that all lived or practitioner experience is the same or can equally assist us to understand our relative academic disciplines.
In short, although practical and lived experience can inform our scholarship, it is not sufficient to the research enterprise.