Recently, two prominent public intellectuals have
had their credentials questioned. First, Fareed Zakaria, journalist, scholar, and television presenter, was accused of plagiarism, and then the historian,
commentator, and documentary maker Niall Ferguson, had his controversial Newsweek cover-story ‘Hit the Road Barack’
thoroughly dissected by the blogosphere.
Now a lot of very intelligent people have already
had their say, and I don’t wish to cover old ground. So rather than focus on
what punishment — if any — either man should face, (for the record, plagiarism is
about as serious as it gets (in academic discourse that is), so I judge Zakaria’s
misdemeanour (or more accurately that of one of his flunkies) to be of greater
significance than Ferguson’s) I want to discuss the comment they have provoked,
with particular reference to Ferguson.
This is because as an ex-history student, I am very familiar
with his work; and while I’ve always found Ferguson’s books entertaining (and,
may I add, thoroughly researched), his political commentary has always left me underwhelmed.
This leads me to my key point: Ferguson’s history
should be separated from his journalism. Unfortunately, too many of the pundits
who have written about this issue have conflated the two, and come to the erroneous
conclusion that Ferguson’s sloppy journalism somehow reflects poorly upon, or
lessens, his academic work.
This could not be further from the truth. While
anyone who has recently set foot in a history faculty will know that Ferguson
has the dubious honour of being the butt of many a Professor’s joke, his
credentials as a historian are above reproach. Sure, he can be controversial,
and yes, he has used his academic status to carve out a very successful (never
mind lucrative) media/public speaking career, but, as far as I am concerned, he
should be criticised for neither.
So there is jealousy at play. Ferguson’s status as a
celebrity-historian means that he has somewhat transcended the subject, even
though he is (arguably) no more talented than many of his less well known (and
poorer) peers.
But sour grapes aside, what was noticeable was the
relish with which many went about dissecting his piece. I read a lot of news
articles, and have come across some truly terrible op-eds, but rarely can I
remember a Newsweek cover story being
pored over with the same amount of intensity (and glee).
This leads me to suppose that Ferguson is being held
to a higher standard than most; that his journalism is effectively being
peer-reviewed. Partly, he is to blame for this: Ferguson trades off his Harvard
Professorship, and gains authority from it. That said, he should not be subjected to any
special treatment, just because he happens to hold a Ph.D.
Thus, a clear line should be drawn between Ferguson’s
history and his journalism. Or to put it in simpler terms: Niall Ferguson is a
good historian, but a poor journalist.
In itself this is not surprising. To offer a decent
comparison, Andrew Marr—one of the leading British political journalists of his
generation—has also written several history books. Although decent reads, they
are not scholarly works (and I don’t think he would argue differently).
Therefore, Marr is a good journalist, but a poor historian.
Few, maybe A.J.P. Taylor alone, have managed to pull
off both, so neither Ferguson not Marr should feel bad. And yet, it is
important that this clarification is made. Although ostensibly similar, history
and journalism are not interchangeable disciplines; they require different
skill sets and mentalities.
Ferguson, in particular, suffers from his naked and peculiarly
strident partisanship (given his place of birth). However, while I might not
agree with his politics, I believe he right to suspect that he is being treated
unfairly.
Therefore, it is not Harvard that should act, but Newsweek. It is not his academic credentials which should be questioned, but his abilities as a journalist.
