The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia. By James C. Scott. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009. 464p. $35.00.

The book under discussion is James C. Scott's latest contribution to the study of agrarian politics, culture, and society, and to the ways that marginalized communities evade or resist projects of state authority. The book offers a synoptic history of Upland Southeast Asia, a 2.5 million–kilometer region of hill country spanning Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, Thailand, Burma, and China. It offers a kind of “area study.” It also builds on Scott's earlier work on “hidden transcripts” of subaltern groups and on “seeing like a state.” The book raises many important theoretical questions about research methods and social inquiry, the relationship between political science and anthropology, the nature of states, and of modernity more generally. The book is also deeply relevant to problems of “state-building” and “failed states” in places like Afghanistan, Iraq, and Somalia. As Scott writes, “The huge literature on state-making, contemporary and historic, pays virtually no attention to its obverse: the history of deliberate and reactive statelessness. This is the history of those who got away, and state-making cannot be understood apart from it. This is also what makes it an anarchist history” (p. x).

In this symposium, I have invited a number of prominent political and social scientists to comment on the book, its historical narrative, and its broader theoretical implications for thinking about power, state failure, state-building, and foreign policy. How does the book shed light on the limits of states and the modes of resistance to state authority? Are there limits, theoretical and normative, to this “anarchist” understanding of governance and the “art of being governed”?

—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

I appreciate Lee Ann Banaszak's thoughtful and insightful comments about my book. As she notes, there is a tendency in the kind of work we both do to focus on specific aspects of the complex policy process; her research on the role of the bureaucracy in policymaking makes her particularly well-positioned to identify the ways that a deeper focus on this area might have contributed to my own analysis of the Chilean case.

Alexis de Tocqueville, the First Social Scientist. By Jon Elster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. 212p. $80.00 cloth, $22.99 paper.

Alexis de Tocqueville is surely one of the most widely cited, discussed, and celebrated political theorists in the world. Jon Elster's book, Alexis de Tocqueville: the First Social Scientist proceeds from a provocative premise: that Tocqueville's major works were lacking in “system” and were “hugely incoherent,” and that Tocqeuville himself “was not a major political thinker” (xi). Elster argues that instead Tocqueville ought to be viewed as a penetrating historical sociologist and an exemplary social scientist who might well be considered the first true social scientist. Elster's argument is important for at least two reasons: first, because it offers a striking and challenging reading of Tocqueville; and second, because it expands on Elster's own contributions in the philosophy of social science, and develops interesting understandings of “causal mechanisms,” methodological individualism, and social explanation more generally. As Elster writes in his Introduction, “the main task of this book is to argue for the relevance of Tocqueville for social science in the twenty-first century (p. 5).” The purpose of this Perspectives symposium is to assess Elster's argument in broad terms. What are the strengths and limits of Elster's reading of Tocqueville? How ought we to assess Elster's understanding of Tocqueville's deficiencies as a “political theorist?” What is the relevance of Tocqueville for contemporary social science? And, most importantly, what are the challenges and possible trajectories facing social science in the twenty-first century, and to what extent does Elster's essay point us in the right direction?—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

The world is movement. People migrate in response to labor needs and human disaster; money and memes flit between countries, and people move almost too quickly to track; the flow of energy and commodities bind consumers to providers in supply chains that neither party can usually envisage. Needless to say, this is as true of criminal activities as any other sphere of human endeavor, especially when it comes to trafficking drugs. According to the United Nations, as of 2010 the trade in opiates generates an annual turnover of up to $65 billion, with cocaine accounting for a further $88 billion. The crudest street gang peddling crack or heroin in a darkened stairwell is part of a complex transnational business, even if its members scarcely know from which country their product originally hails. The roaring torrents of Afghan opiates and Latin American cocaine crash through border checkpoints, leaving corrupted customs officers and pipelines for other illicit transfers in their wake, hollow out political systems, and transform into equally powerful flows of dirty money that in due course wash into every banking system in the world.

Jytte Klausen's The Cartoons That Shook the World offers an interesting political science account of the Danish cartoon controversy and of a broader set of tensions between multiculturalism, civility, and freedom of expression. The book is also a fascinating case study of how political science can itself become the object of dispute, due to Yale University Press' decision to publish the book without any reproductions of the controversial cartoons.

We have thus asked a range of political scientists to comment on the Danish cartoon imbroglio, the book's analysis of it, and the controversy over the book itself.—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

Alexis de Tocqueville, the First Social Scientist. By Jon Elster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. 212p. $80.00 cloth, $22.99 paper.

Alexis de Tocqueville is surely one of the most widely cited, discussed, and celebrated political theorists in the world. Jon Elster's book, Alexis de Tocqueville: the First Social Scientist proceeds from a provocative premise: that Tocqueville's major works were lacking in “system” and were “hugely incoherent,” and that Tocqeuville himself “was not a major political thinker” (xi). Elster argues that instead Tocqueville ought to be viewed as a penetrating historical sociologist and an exemplary social scientist who might well be considered the first true social scientist. Elster's argument is important for at least two reasons: first, because it offers a striking and challenging reading of Tocqueville; and second, because it expands on Elster's own contributions in the philosophy of social science, and develops interesting understandings of “causal mechanisms,” methodological individualism, and social explanation more generally. As Elster writes in his Introduction, “the main task of this book is to argue for the relevance of Tocqueville for social science in the twenty-first century (p. 5).” The purpose of this Perspectives symposium is to assess Elster's argument in broad terms. What are the strengths and limits of Elster's reading of Tocqueville? How ought we to assess Elster's understanding of Tocqueville's deficiencies as a “political theorist?” What is the relevance of Tocqueville for contemporary social science? And, most importantly, what are the challenges and possible trajectories facing social science in the twenty-first century, and to what extent does Elster's essay point us in the right direction?—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

In this impressively researched and thought-provoking book, Lee Ann Banaszak explores the role of “movement insiders”—women's movement activists working inside the federal bureaucracy—in shaping policy on women's rights. Through a series of engaging narratives, she highlights the often-invisible role of feminist lawyers, regulators, other members of the civil service, and political appointees in shaping important policies on such issues as equal employment, educational equity (particularly Title IX), and foreign policy (women in development). Banaszak's investigation into the role of feminist activists within the bureaucracy illuminates the critical role that the movement played within the state on a number of policy issues. More broadly, her argument for an expanded view of the dynamics of social movements, movement–state intersections, and policymaking represents a needed corrective to the rather stark dichotomies that often dominate the study of social movements.

Global Governance of Hazardous Chemicals: Challenges of Multilevel Management. By Henrik Selin. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2010. 235p. $44.00 cloth, $22.00 paper.

In his book, Henrik Selin introduces readers to the complex and fragmented international regime governing the management of hazardous chemicals. He presents a compelling account of the environmental and human health threats posed by international trade and the transboundary movement of hazardous chemicals and waste, building a strong case for this problem as an appropriate target for international cooperation and governance. He then analyzes the development and contents of the chemicals regime, with particular emphasis on the way that linkages among issues and actors contribute to the design of chemicals management policy.

Alexis de Tocqueville, the First Social Scientist. By Jon Elster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. 212p. $80.00 cloth, $22.99 paper.

Alexis de Tocqueville is surely one of the most widely cited, discussed, and celebrated political theorists in the world. Jon Elster's book, Alexis de Tocqueville: the First Social Scientist proceeds from a provocative premise: that Tocqueville's major works were lacking in “system” and were “hugely incoherent,” and that Tocqeuville himself “was not a major political thinker” (xi). Elster argues that instead Tocqueville ought to be viewed as a penetrating historical sociologist and an exemplary social scientist who might well be considered the first true social scientist. Elster's argument is important for at least two reasons: first, because it offers a striking and challenging reading of Tocqueville; and second, because it expands on Elster's own contributions in the philosophy of social science, and develops interesting understandings of “causal mechanisms,” methodological individualism, and social explanation more generally. As Elster writes in his Introduction, “the main task of this book is to argue for the relevance of Tocqueville for social science in the twenty-first century (p. 5).” The purpose of this Perspectives symposium is to assess Elster's argument in broad terms. What are the strengths and limits of Elster's reading of Tocqueville? How ought we to assess Elster's understanding of Tocqueville's deficiencies as a “political theorist?” What is the relevance of Tocqueville for contemporary social science? And, most importantly, what are the challenges and possible trajectories facing social science in the twenty-first century, and to what extent does Elster's essay point us in the right direction?—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

First, I want to thank Megan Mullin for her careful review of my book, which raises several important issues worthy of careful consideration. These will be helpful to me in my continued research and analysis of global environmental governance. A main criticism offered by Mullin's review is that my book includes a great deal of empirical detail but is less focused on testing propositions. This is largely by design, however, and her critique reflects our different views on research design and our varying ways of approaching empirical case studies and analysis.

First, I want to thank Liesl Haas for her thoughtful and generous review of The Women's MovementInside and Outside the State. She raises two set of questions which I would like to address here. First, she asks whether a better sample of insider activists would have been found by choosing key pieces of policy and identifying the major players as she does in her own book. While every sampling strategy represents a trade-off when no clear sampling frame exists, such a method seems to me fraught with a number of dangers, including a selection bias towards visible and successful cases (which might lead us to examine only insider feminist successes and exclude those who were influential but less visible) and predefinition by the investigator of what constitutes a feminist policy. I believe one of the strengths of my study was the finding that insider feminists influenced policies ordinarily not identified as feminist—such as foreign aid legislation or scientific research in the NIH. Haas argues a change in sampling method might have increased the number of younger feminists (who were underrepresented in the sample) but their underrepresentation results largely from a focus on activists in higher positions in the bureaucracy, the tendency of fewer feminists to enter the bureaucracy under post-Reagan republican administrations, and my conscious decision to focus on the period before 2001 when interviewing so that I did not ask questions about the current administration.

Jytte Klausen's The Cartoons That Shook the World offers an interesting political science account of the Danish cartoon controversy and of a broader set of tensions between multiculturalism, civility, and freedom of expression. The book is also a fascinating case study of how political science can itself become the object of dispute, due to Yale University Press' decision to publish the book without any reproductions of the controversial cartoons.

We have thus asked a range of political scientists to comment on the Danish cartoon imbroglio, the book's analysis of it, and the controversy over the book itself.—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

Alexis de Tocqueville, the First Social Scientist. By Jon Elster. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009. 212p. $80.00 cloth, $22.99 paper.

Alexis de Tocqueville is surely one of the most widely cited, discussed, and celebrated political theorists in the world. Jon Elster's book, Alexis de Tocqueville: the First Social Scientist proceeds from a provocative premise: that Tocqueville's major works were lacking in “system” and were “hugely incoherent,” and that Tocqeuville himself “was not a major political thinker” (xi). Elster argues that instead Tocqueville ought to be viewed as a penetrating historical sociologist and an exemplary social scientist who might well be considered the first true social scientist. Elster's argument is important for at least two reasons: first, because it offers a striking and challenging reading of Tocqueville; and second, because it expands on Elster's own contributions in the philosophy of social science, and develops interesting understandings of “causal mechanisms,” methodological individualism, and social explanation more generally. As Elster writes in his Introduction, “the main task of this book is to argue for the relevance of Tocqueville for social science in the twenty-first century (p. 5).” The purpose of this Perspectives symposium is to assess Elster's argument in broad terms. What are the strengths and limits of Elster's reading of Tocqueville? How ought we to assess Elster's understanding of Tocqueville's deficiencies as a “political theorist?” What is the relevance of Tocqueville for contemporary social science? And, most importantly, what are the challenges and possible trajectories facing social science in the twenty-first century, and to what extent does Elster's essay point us in the right direction?—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

Jytte Klausen's The Cartoons That Shook the World offers an interesting political science account of the Danish cartoon controversy and of a broader set of tensions between multiculturalism, civility, and freedom of expression. The book is also a fascinating case study of how political science can itself become the object of dispute, due to Yale University Press' decision to publish the book without any reproductions of the controversial cartoons.

We have thus asked a range of political scientists to comment on the Danish cartoon imbroglio, the book's analysis of it, and the controversy over the book itself.—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

Much of English-language writing on contemporary Colombia focuses on that country's extended armed conflict and the challenges posed by international drug trafficking to both hemispheric security and local political stability. Often overlooked, however, are the dynamics of Colombia's long-standing democratic political system. In his book, Steven L. Taylor offers readers a detailed discussion of the constitutional structure of party competition in one of Latin America's oldest democracies. Taylor is a capable scholar of Colombia's institutions and does an excellent job of shedding light on the complex interplay between parties in that country's evolving electoral system.

This notable book on a little-studied but central aspect of American water politics addresses analytical issues important to a range of political science fields. It is, for example, of considerable relevance to scholars working in areas of American federalism and community politics, as well as to those who are interested in cross-cutting issues of public administration and policy fragmentation, public and private stakeholder participation and democracy, and multilevel governance. In Governing the Tap, Megan Mullin analyzes the institutional context and means through which local public services are provided, the governance structures that shape policy outcomes and how they are able to meet developing community goals, and the ways in which specialized structures fit into the complex political landscape of city, county, state, and federal policymaking. Because of both its broad appeal and its own qualities, this book deserves a wide readership.

It is not easy to offer a critical review of Dan Slater's book. Ordering Power makes several major contributions to the study of both state building and authoritarian durability. The book's analysis converges with ours in many areas; in some of these areas, it takes important steps beyond it.

Jytte Klausen's The Cartoons That Shook the World offers an interesting political science account of the Danish cartoon controversy and of a broader set of tensions between multiculturalism, civility, and freedom of expression. The book is also a fascinating case study of how political science can itself become the object of dispute, due to Yale University Press' decision to publish the book without any reproductions of the controversial cartoons.

We have thus asked a range of political scientists to comment on the Danish cartoon imbroglio, the book's analysis of it, and the controversy over the book itself.—Jeffrey C. Isaac, Editor

The fundamental point of contention between the works under review here (in my view) is whether or not the presence of systematic violence is primarily a feature or a bug of the given political system being studied. I do not mean this distinction in a normative sense, but rather an analytical one. In other words, should we view endemic political violence in ostensibly democratic states to be deviations from appropriate democratic behavior (i.e., a bug or flaw in a given system), or is it the case that the violence in question should be understood as an inherent part of the system, perhaps even if it is still to be considered a democracy (i.e., a feature or constituent element thereof)?

In his careful and generous review of my book, Henrik Selin asks why I selected responsiveness and intergovernmental coordination as dependent variables for my analysis, therefore setting aside other policy effects that special district governance might produce. This is an important question: the delegation of policy authority to autonomous, specialized governments is a significant departure from the normal politics that takes place in a multidimensional legislature and could have a variety of consequences. To the extent that special districts have received any scholarly attention, it has focused mostly on estimating how specialization affects the level of public spending. My interest lies more in the quality of governance. What do we want from representative government? Central among our goals should be policy outcomes that are responsive both to public preferences and to public problems.