CHUCK TILLY'S WORKSHOP RULES,
as compiled by Roy Licklider
I think we all agree that the seminar/workshop that Chuck
created and ran was a remarkable phenomenon. It might be
useful to compile its rules in the hope that they might be helpful
to others trying to do similar things. Of course, the rules were
never written down, and one of the issues with unwritten
constitutions is that people often disagree about their content
(unlike, say, written constitutions, but that's another story).
Anyway, I thought I would put down my version, and everybody
else can explain where I got it wrong. I've put brackets around
my comments and specific illustrations from my own experience.
The overriding purpose is to improve a piece of research.
Critics are not supposed to show how smart they are by
humiliating the author [there was no point to it anyway since
Tilly was smarter than anyone else in the room]. A good
comment doesn't just point out a weakness in the project; it
also suggests what should be done to make it better
(constructive criticism).
There is no overriding topic or theme. Basically it is all about
how to do good social science research. [The final title was
Workshop in Contentious Politics, and there isn't much that
couldn't be included under that heading. The lack of a topic
made it different from most other seminars and, especially at
Columbia, made it difficult to attract members who would keep
coming back; Tilly's reputation helped a lot, and some of us
became infatuated with the whole approach, but as noted
below this became a problem.]
Within the seminar everyone is treated as an equal. First
names are used by everyone for everyone. Everyone is an
author and a critic; every regular member of the seminar is
expected to present (ideally once a year, although that may not
be possible) and to comment on everyone else's work every
week. Specialized knowledge on the topic is useful but not
necessary, and often the best comments and questions come
from people who know nothing at all about the topic.
Papers are never presented; they are written and distributed a
week ahead of the session. There is a reciprocal arrangement;
authors limit themselves to fifty pages or less, and all members
read the papers in advance. [Chuck once said it was okay if
you didn't read the paper, but you couldn't say so and then
make a comment.] The paper should include an introductory
page putting the research in context and explaining its
audience (is this a dissertation, a potential article or book, a
conference paper, etc.).
At the beginning of the session the author is allowed but not
encouraged to say a few sentences, usually about the context
of the research (which should be covered in the introductory
page but sometimes isn't). But the session really starts with
extensive comments by two preselected critics, at least one of
whom does not have a Ph.D. [In recent years these comments
were often written in advance and read aloud, with a copy
going to the author either before (my preference) or after the
oral presentation. This allows the author to not have to worry
about taking notes and facilitates discussion. Chuck and I
disagreed about reading the comments; I felt that, at least for
native speakers of English, people should talk about the
comments rather than reading them, which would be good
practice for conferences and teaching classes.] After the two
critics have made their remarks, the author is given a
substantial amount of time to respond.
The floor is then open to comments and questions. Members
attract the attention of the leader by raising their hand
(one-finger question); the leader keeps a queue of names and
calls on them in the order in which they have been seen, except
that the first three comments after the critics must be made by
people without Ph.D.s. It's okay for an individual to raise
several separate questions at once. A second kind of
intervention is the two-finger question--it must be directly on the
point under discussion and thirty seconds or less. Asking a
two-finger question does not change your position in the
regular queue.
In addition to oral comments, members are encouraged to
submit written comments. These fulfill at least two different
functions: (1) they communicate specialized knowledge,
bibliography, etc. which would not be of general interest to the
group and (2) by repeating the oral questions or points, they
again free the author from trying to take notes while answering
a barrage of very different questions and issues and give them
a record of the discussion which will be useful later when trying
to recall what went on. [I have actually tape recorded several
sessions where I was the author for the same reason. I learned
from Chuck to try to keep my own comments until late in the
session; with any luck others would make the points on their
own and learn more from the experience than if we led the
discussion.] Repeating a point made earlier, it is a firm rule
that, no matter how wrong-headed the paper is [and there were
some dillies], discussion is courteous, friendly, respectful, and
directed at improving the project at hand rather than showing
that the commentator is brilliant or that the author is insane or
dangerous (although all of these may be true). Ideally the
author is presented with several different ways in which the
paper can be further developed, often contradictory ones which
gave some choice.
After the seminar (which is scheduled for two hours), everyone
is invited to go out to dinner somewhere nearby (it obviously
helps if the seminar is scheduled late in the afternoon). The
check is shared, but the author doesn't pay. [I used to explain
that they had provided the entertainment. This may not be
haute cuisine; Chuck would alternate between two inexpensive
restaurants (usually ethnic). He justified this by saying he
wanted to encourage graduate students to come by keeping it
cheap. When he didn't attend during the last semester, the
seminar went somewhere else to eat, although not to a much
more expensive place, so maybe he was on to something.
Once, when only faculty showed up, we went to a better
restaurant. Occasionally, if he had gotten a nice check (as he
would put it), he would pay the whole bill himself. I think he
regarded the dinner as the high point of the experience, and
certainly many of us did. I made a point not to sit next to him to
give graduate students a shot at him; at Columbia they were
sometimes a little shy, but they soon got over it.]
[The size of the group varied a lot, from ten to maybe fifty. One
of the keys to success was the continuing group of members
who had been socialized into the seminar's norms; people who
came in only for a paper or two depending on the topic were
usually less helpful in discussions. At the New School
members were faculty (junior and senior) from various
institutions, visitors (often foreigners) who were there for a year
or two, and graduate students. At Columbia there were fewer
faculty, more graduate students, and fewer core members. For
a year or so they tried making it a regular course in order to
encourage graduate students to attend regularly, but that didn't
work very well; I think the fact that there was no topic and that it
didn't fulfill any requirements told against it. Increasingly we
were working with authors who were not really members of the
seminar. My own feeling was that it worked better with more
core members, but of course it was less useful to the broader
community; as usual there is a tradeoff.]
Roy Licklider
as compiled by Roy Licklider
I think we all agree that the seminar/workshop that Chuck
created and ran was a remarkable phenomenon. It might be
useful to compile its rules in the hope that they might be helpful
to others trying to do similar things. Of course, the rules were
never written down, and one of the issues with unwritten
constitutions is that people often disagree about their content
(unlike, say, written constitutions, but that's another story).
Anyway, I thought I would put down my version, and everybody
else can explain where I got it wrong. I've put brackets around
my comments and specific illustrations from my own experience.
The overriding purpose is to improve a piece of research.
Critics are not supposed to show how smart they are by
humiliating the author [there was no point to it anyway since
Tilly was smarter than anyone else in the room]. A good
comment doesn't just point out a weakness in the project; it
also suggests what should be done to make it better
(constructive criticism).
There is no overriding topic or theme. Basically it is all about
how to do good social science research. [The final title was
Workshop in Contentious Politics, and there isn't much that
couldn't be included under that heading. The lack of a topic
made it different from most other seminars and, especially at
Columbia, made it difficult to attract members who would keep
coming back; Tilly's reputation helped a lot, and some of us
became infatuated with the whole approach, but as noted
below this became a problem.]
Within the seminar everyone is treated as an equal. First
names are used by everyone for everyone. Everyone is an
author and a critic; every regular member of the seminar is
expected to present (ideally once a year, although that may not
be possible) and to comment on everyone else's work every
week. Specialized knowledge on the topic is useful but not
necessary, and often the best comments and questions come
from people who know nothing at all about the topic.
Papers are never presented; they are written and distributed a
week ahead of the session. There is a reciprocal arrangement;
authors limit themselves to fifty pages or less, and all members
read the papers in advance. [Chuck once said it was okay if
you didn't read the paper, but you couldn't say so and then
make a comment.] The paper should include an introductory
page putting the research in context and explaining its
audience (is this a dissertation, a potential article or book, a
conference paper, etc.).
At the beginning of the session the author is allowed but not
encouraged to say a few sentences, usually about the context
of the research (which should be covered in the introductory
page but sometimes isn't). But the session really starts with
extensive comments by two preselected critics, at least one of
whom does not have a Ph.D. [In recent years these comments
were often written in advance and read aloud, with a copy
going to the author either before (my preference) or after the
oral presentation. This allows the author to not have to worry
about taking notes and facilitates discussion. Chuck and I
disagreed about reading the comments; I felt that, at least for
native speakers of English, people should talk about the
comments rather than reading them, which would be good
practice for conferences and teaching classes.] After the two
critics have made their remarks, the author is given a
substantial amount of time to respond.
The floor is then open to comments and questions. Members
attract the attention of the leader by raising their hand
(one-finger question); the leader keeps a queue of names and
calls on them in the order in which they have been seen, except
that the first three comments after the critics must be made by
people without Ph.D.s. It's okay for an individual to raise
several separate questions at once. A second kind of
intervention is the two-finger question--it must be directly on the
point under discussion and thirty seconds or less. Asking a
two-finger question does not change your position in the
regular queue.
In addition to oral comments, members are encouraged to
submit written comments. These fulfill at least two different
functions: (1) they communicate specialized knowledge,
bibliography, etc. which would not be of general interest to the
group and (2) by repeating the oral questions or points, they
again free the author from trying to take notes while answering
a barrage of very different questions and issues and give them
a record of the discussion which will be useful later when trying
to recall what went on. [I have actually tape recorded several
sessions where I was the author for the same reason. I learned
from Chuck to try to keep my own comments until late in the
session; with any luck others would make the points on their
own and learn more from the experience than if we led the
discussion.] Repeating a point made earlier, it is a firm rule
that, no matter how wrong-headed the paper is [and there were
some dillies], discussion is courteous, friendly, respectful, and
directed at improving the project at hand rather than showing
that the commentator is brilliant or that the author is insane or
dangerous (although all of these may be true). Ideally the
author is presented with several different ways in which the
paper can be further developed, often contradictory ones which
gave some choice.
After the seminar (which is scheduled for two hours), everyone
is invited to go out to dinner somewhere nearby (it obviously
helps if the seminar is scheduled late in the afternoon). The
check is shared, but the author doesn't pay. [I used to explain
that they had provided the entertainment. This may not be
haute cuisine; Chuck would alternate between two inexpensive
restaurants (usually ethnic). He justified this by saying he
wanted to encourage graduate students to come by keeping it
cheap. When he didn't attend during the last semester, the
seminar went somewhere else to eat, although not to a much
more expensive place, so maybe he was on to something.
Once, when only faculty showed up, we went to a better
restaurant. Occasionally, if he had gotten a nice check (as he
would put it), he would pay the whole bill himself. I think he
regarded the dinner as the high point of the experience, and
certainly many of us did. I made a point not to sit next to him to
give graduate students a shot at him; at Columbia they were
sometimes a little shy, but they soon got over it.]
[The size of the group varied a lot, from ten to maybe fifty. One
of the keys to success was the continuing group of members
who had been socialized into the seminar's norms; people who
came in only for a paper or two depending on the topic were
usually less helpful in discussions. At the New School
members were faculty (junior and senior) from various
institutions, visitors (often foreigners) who were there for a year
or two, and graduate students. At Columbia there were fewer
faculty, more graduate students, and fewer core members. For
a year or so they tried making it a regular course in order to
encourage graduate students to attend regularly, but that didn't
work very well; I think the fact that there was no topic and that it
didn't fulfill any requirements told against it. Increasingly we
were working with authors who were not really members of the
seminar. My own feeling was that it worked better with more
core members, but of course it was less useful to the broader
community; as usual there is a tradeoff.]
Roy Licklider
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