Since the dawn of time, it seems, social critics have been warning of a “crisis of legitimacy” in the political world. Manuel Castells repeats this ageless battle-cry in his 2004 Ithiel de Sola Pool lecture (PS, January 2005, 9–16), warning darkly of an “increasing alienation of citizens” that “threatens to undo the democratic system” (9). As proof, he offers an array of point-in-time survey results from Western countries in recent years, as well as anecdotal evidence of “the expression of political protest” in places like California and France (9). Yet, none of this shows anything except the fact that states are imperfect creations for the expression of political community and, as Isaiah Berlin might have added, the timeless costs of social life.

The United States Constitution incorporated elements of the unitary and confederate systems of government to form simultaneously a compound republic, the world's first federal governance system, and a unitary government with complete control over the District of Columbia and territories. Specific powers were delegated to Congress and all other powers were reserved to the states and the people unless prohibited.

The Roman god Janus had two faces, looking in opposite directions. This split appearance is an apt metaphor for the Rehnquist Court's decisions involving federal-state relations. One face, which has received much attention over the past decade and a half, is characterized by the Court's post-1990 decisions concerning state sovereignty, sovereign immunity, and the reach of Congress's powers under the Interstate Commerce Clause and the 14th Amendment. All have had a devolutionary thrust, bolstering state authority or insulating state institutions against federal law and regulations. The second, less recognized face is distinguished by the Court's emerging doctrines concerning federal preemption of state and local authority. In these cases, the Supreme Court—often led by members of the new federalist majority—has tilted surprisingly in favor of federal authority. This article examines both faces of contemporary judicial policy making on matters of federalism, with a particular focus on the implications for federal preemption.

In the last two decades, many cases of actual or attempted federal preemption of state regulation have followed an intriguing new interactive pattern. While this pattern is not comprehensive enough to define a new theory of federalism (see Zimmerman 2004), it now occurs regularly enough to merit close attention and an attempted understanding of its dynamics (see Walters 2004). It is also an example of the kind of complicated federalism, with vertical checks, balances and thresholds, that has emerged in a 21st century America closely divided upon whether and how to use government policy to address various social and economic problems.

Woodrow Wilson told us that the federal-state relationship is the cardinal question of our system that is destined to be reformulated for each generation. His prophetic words aptly characterize the challenges federal and state governments face in satisfying both the requisites of an increasingly global economy and nationalized political culture while at the same time reflecting the differential values and interests of states. States need to retain their diversity and capacity to innovate and respond to different values and interests that may not get a hearing in Washington; conversely, Washington needs to be alert and reactive when states prove unresponsive to key values and interests or collectively incapable of solving national economic or social problems.

The balance of national and state powers has undergone continuous readjustment since 1790, without a constitutional amendment by means of numerous congressional preemption statutes superseding completely or partially certain regulatory powers of the states and thereby effectuating a major transformation in the federal system. Congress since 1978 has increased its regulation of subnational governments as polities by enacting preemption statutes containing mandates and restraints (Zimmerman 1994) while simultaneously enacting other statutes providing for extensive deregulation of the banking and communications industries and complete economic deregulation of the air, bus, and rail transportation companies.

The question “What is political science?” is nearly as old as the discipline itself. Political science continually self-examines the discipline to evaluate who we are and how we have changed. In addition, there are numerous studies of groups within political science, including political science in the U.S. South and women in political science. There are also reviews of the development and state of subfields, e.g., urban politics , international relations, comparative politics, and political theory. Each of these histories provides an image of what political science is or what it should be. These self-reviews provide images of the discipline that shape our identities as political scientists and advance the progress of political science. Even if the images do not affect future directions in political science, they are “an important dimension of identity and critical reflection on the theory and practice of political science”. Developing and critiquing these images are important academic exercises.J. Tobin Grant is assistant professor, department of political science, Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. He is coauthor (with Thomas Rudolph) of Expression vs. Equality: The Politics of Campaign Finance Reform (Ohio State University Press, 2004).I thank Badredine Arfi, Gregory Kasza, Scott McClurg, Thomas Rudolph, Edward Schatz, and Herbert Weisberg for their comments and suggestions on this article.

Political science, judging by the reading material that reaches my desk, has become much more of a science than it was more than 50 years ago when I served on the faculties of the University of Minnesota and Bennington College. It is important that this development not distort the reality that politics and government remain fundamentally human institutions. My own movement from the academy to practical politics, to private life, and to government service has reinforced my view that the unpredictable human ingredient is an essential part of the political process—an obvious observation but one difficult to quantify.Max M. Kampelman was counselor of the State Department, U.S. ambassador to the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe, and ambassador and U.S. negotiator with the Soviet Union on Nuclear and Space Arms. He is now chairman emeritus of Freedom House; the American Academy of Diplomacy; and the Georgetown University Institute for the Study of Diplomacy.

In 2003–2004 I served as the assistant editor of Political Theory. During my term I reviewed hundreds of manuscripts, read scores of outside reviews, and communicated regularly with Stephen White (the editor) about the criteria of a successful manuscript and the direction of the discipline. To aid graduate students looking to publish, as well as others, I offer several principles to facilitate writing and submitting a political theory essay.Nicholas Tampio defended his dissertation on The Kantian Problematic in Contemporary Political Theory at Johns Hopkins University in September 2004.For comments on earlier drafts, I thank James Morone, Patricia Nordeen, Jesse Tampio, and Stephen White.

Recently, Microsoft's PowerPoint has come under a series of brutal attacks. Critics have accused the software of promoting simplistic thinking, dumbing down presentations, and constricting interactions between presenter and audience (Schwartz 2003; Parker 2001; Thompson 2003). One detractor went so far as to label PowerPoint “technological cocaine” and another demanded a ban on the software, urging that “Friends Don't Let Friends Use PowerPoint” (Keller 2003; Stewart 2001). The most coherent exposition of PowerPoint's weaknesses has come from Edward Tufte, Yale Professor and visual presentation guru. Tufte (2003) argues that PowerPoint is format—rather than content—or audience-oriented, and thus “turn[s] everything into a sales pitch.” His list of grievances against the software is long. PowerPoint replaces serious analysis with chartjunk, logotypes, and corny clip art. It breaks information into small arbitrary fragments and stacks it chronologically in a manner that inhibits analysis through comparison. It “messes up data with systematic intensity” through bad resolution, thin graphics, and low-information charts. PowerPoint's “inherent defects,” so says Tufte, are “making us stupid, degrading the quality and credibility of our communication, turning us into bores, wasting our colleagues' time.”Ron E. Hassner is assistant professor of political science at the University of California, Berkeley. He remains indebted to Scott D. Sagan for introducing him to both PowerPoint and baseball.

Undergraduate students should not just study political theory. They should theorize. Writing-intensive political theory courses can help them do so sooner. By preparing an original political vision, a utopia or a dystopia, throughout the course of the semester, students read and compare the texts of the course against their own emerging texts and move into more critical and systematic political analysis. As a political theorist, my focus is not so much on utopias or dystopias as a subject of study per se, but on tapping into the creative freedom, critical distance, and hard-hitting insights of these traditions while teaching writing. I take seriously Berlin's above-stated concern for the “place and mode of operation” conveyed to the student through the process of learning to write. Visionary writing accelerates students' appreciation of the complexity of another's theory, but also of their own standpoint and capacity for agency and judgment.Khristina Haddad is assistant professor, department of political science, Moravian College. She teaches a writing-intensive course on visionary political writing and is affiliated with German Studies and Women's Studies. Her research interests include politics of time and temporality, Hannah Arendt, political action, fear, feminist theory, women's studies, and, in particular, the politics of women's health.I am greatly indebted to friends and colleagues who helped me along at various stages including (in alphabetical order) Robert Humanick, Eleanor Linn, Bob Mayer, Karla Morales, Laurie Naranch, Gary Olson, Miguelina Ortiz, Martha Reid, Joanna Vecchiarelli Scott, Lyman Tower Sargent, Joel Wingard, and Elizabeth Wingrove. Thanks go also to all those whose dedicated work inspires student writers and teachers of writing at the Gayle Morris Sweetland Writing Center at the University of Michigan, to helpful commentators at the Society for Utopian Studies' Annual Meeting in Toronto, to two anonymous reviewers at PS, and to three groups of students who shared their visions with me.

I must first confess that I was long a skeptic about the use of simulations in the classroom. I had, after all, gotten along quite fine without them. My courses were full, my teaching evaluations good.Bruce A. Wallin is associate professor, department of political science, Northeastern University. He is author of From Revenue Sharing to Deficit Sharing: General Revenue Sharing and Cities (Georgetown University Press, 1998), winner of the 1999 APSA award for Best Book on Urban Politics. Most recently, he edited a symposium on “Tax and Expenditure Limitations: A Quarter Century after Proposition 13,” published in Public Budgeting and Finance (vol. 24, no. 4, winter 2004).For more information on this simulation, including the class syllabus and detailed examples, visit PSOnline at www.apsanet.org/ps/wallinonline.pdf.

Judicial decisions are an integral part of American politics and, despite the presence of written and explicated opinions of federal judges, the internal deliberations and decision making processes of judges themselves remains a mystery to many. A burgeoning body of literature focuses on the use of simulations to engage students and bridge theory to practical application. Few simulations target the judicial component of politics, despite its natural disposition for group participation in a simulation project.Richard J. (Rick) Hardy is the director of the Institute for Leadership in Civic Education, director of the National Institute for Advanced Civic Studies (sponsored by the Center for Civic Education), and assistant director of the Honors College at the University of Missouri-Columbia. He regularly teaches courses in American politics, constitutional law, and the Supreme Court. His publications include: Government in America (Houghton Mifflin), Missouri Government and Politics (Missouri Press), Civic Education (Pearson), and Politics: The Art of Drawing Dividing Lines (Thomson). Hardy also serves as a political commentator for numerous national outlets and is a presidential elector in the Electoral College. Chapman Rackaway teaches courses in American government, political campaign management, political parties, and voting behavior at Fort Hays State University. He is the director and advisor for the Political Campaigns and Management tract at FHSU. He has published in the Journal of Politics and has consulted on numerous state and national political races. Laurie E. Sonnier currently teaches social studies courses at St. Martin high school in Ocean Springs, Mississippi. She earned her B.A. in political science at the University of Southern Mississippi and her M.Ed. in Education from Bowie State University. Laurie has won numerous teaching awards and has been actively involved with the National Council for the Social Studies and the Center for Civic Education. She is the co-editor of Voices of Advocacy in American Democracy (Pearson).

The civic engagement track participants represented research institutions, four-year liberal arts institutions, and secondary schools. Although our teaching experiences, pedagogical approaches, and subject matter specialties varied greatly, we embraced this diversity as an opportunity to share common concerns about teaching civic engagement.

In the 2005 APSA Teaching and Learning Conference's Diversity Track, some 30 participants representing a wide range of colleges and universities came together to discuss issues related to teaching and learning about diversity. Diversity-focused pedagogy recognizes commonalities of individual and group experience defined by race, gender, ethnicity, class, sexual orientation, age, and ability, but it touches much broader circles. One of the most important aspects of the track was the diversity of its participants—not usually one of the discipline's strong points. The wide range of backgrounds and experiences reflected by the track's participants highlighted the value of diversity to the profession, as well as the fact that political scientists carry different burdens at a wide range of institutions. Participants in this track found that our senses of what defines diversity, the importance of teaching about diversity, and what teaching techniques effectively illustrate diversity were, well, diverse.

Teachers usually turn to experiential education when they are dissatisfied with the so-called traditional classroom. At its worst, conventional teaching dissects the political world into an array of component parts. Sometimes students read the latest scholarship, but the treatment of politics is often either blandly descriptive or too abstract. This type of teaching can rob politics of its pulsing energy, which, ironically, attracted many political scientists into the field. While most political scientists find politics exciting, the norms of the discipline can enervate the importance and drama of politics. Student calls for more “current events” are a frequent response to these academic experiences.

The track on Global Perspectives/International Models brought together faculty working in a variety of settings, including high schools, two- and four-year colleges, and research universities in the United States as well as overseas. But this diverse group was firmly rooted in the shared experiences of similar problems and goals and a commitment to undergraduate education. The track provided an opportunity for instructors of political science to exchange information, develop a series of recommendations, and lay the groundwork for a network of scholar-teachers.

From February 19–21, 2005, several hundred political scientists met at the second annual APSA Conference on Teaching and Learning in Bethesda, Maryland. To facilitate an atmosphere of intensive interaction and mutual learning, the conference was conducted in the “European format” where topic-specific Tracks worked as a deliberative community over three days rather than the format of American conferences—paper, paper, paper, comment, question, then on to a different session. Track Five's task was to exchange ideas about teaching methodology with the goal of formulating proposals that could be disseminated to the discipline. Interestingly, the topic was taken up by contributors in Track Five from two angles: first, “teaching methods” as a pedagogical issue and second, teaching research methodology.

Service learning is most often touted as a vehicle for creating and reinforcing civic-minded citizens and generating democratic responsibility among our students while serving and empowering communities. Equally as important, service learning is pedagogy. Service learning track participants discussed ways to develop the best practices and pedagogies, focusing on both the outcomes we hope to achieve through a variety of applications of service learning, and on the necessary components—or ingredients—that comprise service learning as a method of instruction. Papers covered a broad range of inter-related themes including service learning at large research universities, research-as-service projects, the impact of service learning on student health, the challenges inherent in assessing active forms of learning, and engaging youth with political humor. Participants were equally as diverse and included faculty and administrators from large universities, liberal arts colleges, community colleges, and public high schools.

At the first APSA Teaching and Learning Conference (TLC) in 2004, 11 professors and graduate students gathered to discuss and evaluate the role of assessment in political science. Excited by the impact of assessment in their classrooms and departments, the working group concluded their session with a declaration of the positive role assessment could have in the discipline and an articulated concern that APSA needs to “play a greater role in assessment.” At the 2005 conference, 32 faculty and graduate students again gathered to discuss “Student Assessment and Learning Outcomes.” Six of us bridged both years' experiences. While the 2005 participants were less unified, the discussion and debates that emerged built upon the discoveries of year one and attempted to expand the conversation from among the converted to the wider discipline.