The activity commences from two simple principles: 

1) Ideas matter, and 2) People invest more time in activities that are valued. The institute does a decent job of recognizing good disciplinary scholarship but falls short when it comes to acknowledging researchers who translate ideas from obscure journals into the real world of policy and practice. While this might not be significant in the study of physics or Renaissance poetry, it does matter if we want credible researchers to contribute to public discussions on education. Hence, it becomes even more crucial for scholars to use their platform effectively and be aware of the limitations of their own expertise.

Now, I'm not an ardent advocate of the supernatural power of research. I don't believe that policy or practice should be driven solely by the whims of scientists. I acknowledge that researchers always bring their own biases, that decisions regarding education policy and practice are value-laden, and therefore, choices should be influenced by much more than just the latest study. However, I do believe that intelligent researchers bring a lot to the table. They can ask tough questions, challenge lazy conventions, explore the real-world impact of past changes, and envision how things can be improved.

Let's change the subject for a moment. In baseball, there's a concept of the "five-tool" player. This refers to a player who excels in running, fielding, throwing, hitting with power, and hitting for average. While a great ballplayer may excel in just a few of these areas, there's a special admiration for the exceptional player who can do it all.

Researchers whose work is relevant to the world of policy and practice require a similar range of skills to succeed. However, university advancement, compensation, and reputation often reward a very narrow range of activities and achievements. I have long believed that if we did more to recognize and support researchers with multiple skills, more academics would choose to spend more time performing those different roles.


Now, no one should overstate the precision of this exercise. It's an icebreaker. It's best to think of it as similar to rankings of ballplayers, actors, or mutual fund managers. It's a data-driven effort to stimulate discussion about how researchers add value and which ones are doing so most genuinely.

Furthermore, I should add that a researcher's influence is not necessarily a measure of whether their work is socially useful. These rankings represent scholarly influence; they are not meant to pass judgment on the quality of a researcher's work or the social utility of their agenda. Instead, they provide a window into how researchers exert outsized influence and the ways in which they do so. The outcomes of their efforts, in turn, serve as fodder for meaningful conversations about how that influence is utilized.

In a similar vein, it is worth making one final point: Readers will notice that the rankings do not address aspects such as teaching, mentoring, and community service. These scores are not intended to be a comprehensive summary of a researcher's contribution to the world. Unfortunately, there's simply nothing that can be done about it.

From my perspective, the exceptional public researcher excels in five areas: disciplinary scholarship, policy analysis and popular writing, fostering and shepherding collaborations, providing sharp critique, and engaging in public discourse. Researchers who possess most or all of these skills can transcend boundaries, foster crucial collaborations, spark fresh thinking, and bring research into the world of policy and practice in brilliant and meaningful ways.

Today, academia offers numerous professional rewards for researchers who stay within their comfort zone and pursue narrow, hyper-specialized research, but few rewards for five-tool researchers. As a result, the public discourse is filled with zealous advocates (including academics with little in the way of scholarly achievement), while we hear far less than I'd like from those who might be best suited to recognize complexities, provide essential context, and make sense of intricate pieces of knowledge. One small way of encouraging academics to step into the arena is, in my opinion, to do more to recognize and value those researchers who do so.

The response to the Edu-Researcher Rankings has convinced me that the status quo is not set in stone. Over the past decade, I've heard from numerous deans and administrators who have used these rankings to identify candidates for new positions or to inform decisions about promotion and compensation. I've also heard from many researchers who have used these results to initiate discussions with department chairs about institutional support or to demonstrate their impact while applying for jobs, grants, fellowships, or tenure. Moreover, a range of prominent institutions have issued releases highlighting the performance of their faculty in the rankings, drawing attention to activities that often go unnoticed.

The Edu-Researcher Rankings reflect, in roughly equal parts, a researcher's academic scholarship and their impact on public discourse. The various metrics are designed not merely as counts of references or sound bites, but as an attempt to gauge a researcher's public footprint in the previous year.