In Dead Men’s Propaganda, Terhi Rantanen explores the founding of Comparative Communications Studies between 1918-1945 by focusing on figures whose key contributions are underacknowledged. In particular, the book centres marginalised émigré scholars in the US and women. Using Karl Mannheim’s and Robert K. Merton’s theories to ground her research, Rantanen offers a thoughtful, humanising history of the “insiders” and “outsiders” who shaped the field, writes Barnaby Falck.
Terhi Rantanen’s latest book feels like something of a departure from much of her previous work. Since she started writing more consistently in English (having mostly written in Finnish during the 1990s), Rantanen’s career has focused on either the globalisation of international media or on studying media institutions in post-communist countries (with recent work comparing institutions in post-Cold War Russia and China). This new book takes a more historical approach, which is something Rantanen has done before, but never on quite as ambitious a scale.
Rantanen applies two theoretical lenses that work simply, yet effectively, together: Karl Mannheim’s work on Ideologies […and] Utopias […and] Robert K Merton’s concept of Insiders […and…] and Outsiders
With Dead Men’s Propaganda, Rantanen seeks to establish a definitive history of the foundations of the academic field of Comparative Communications Studies (CCS), which emerged in the inter-war and Second World War United States (1918-1945) as an offshoot of Propaganda Studies. Specifically, Rantanen seeks to frame this history as a study of the figures, both academic and professional, who helped to establish the field, many of whose contributions have been overlooked or obscured. In doing so, she highlights how the field has been and continues to be shaped by past perspectives.
To write this history, Rantanen applies two theoretical lenses that work simply, yet effectively, together: Karl Mannheim’s work on Ideologies (broadly defined as the ideas that drive individuals in the present) and Utopias (broadly defined as the hopes and perceptions for/of the future that drive individuals), and Robert K Merton’s concept of Insiders (those that are active within “the establishment”, ie, governments or academics institutions) and Outsiders (those that are not generally included in the previous category such as refugee scholars).
These concepts, when applied to a study of the lives and careers of, and connections between, the founders of CCS, helps to track the beliefs, convictions, influences and material circumstances of these individuals. In turn, they help Rantanen identify the various ways they all influenced a field of study born within the political establishment of the US, an establishment all these figures were connected (whether as insiders or outsiders).
Karl Mannheim, Nathan Leites, Paul Kecskemeti and Joseph M. Goldsen, have been side-lined by the field they helped to found, becoming perpetual “outsiders”, despite the intellectual value their work still holds.
Rantanen splits the book into seven chapters. The first three detail the methodological grounding of the book. Focusing on Karl Mannheim, Robert K. Merton, Harold D. Lasswell and Kent Cooper as individuals and work laying the foundations of CCS, Rantanen sets up an effective framework for her historical approach. She grounds herself theoretically (through the concepts of Ideologies, Utopias, Insiders and Outsiders) and sets out the book’s timescale (roughly 1918-1945, though the book does extend into the 1950s and 60s). The following three chapters detail the lives and contributions of the founders of CCS proper. This all leads to a succinct concluding chapter, that paints a picture of an academic field formed by real, complicated human beings, each with their own agendas and motivations.
Many of these individuals have been celebrated and continually studied (like George D. Stoddard, Wilbur Scharm, Fred S. Siebert, and Theodore Peterson), remaining “insiders” even after their deaths. Meanwhile, just as many, like Karl Mannheim, Nathan Leites, Paul Kecskemeti and Joseph M. Goldsen, have been side-lined by the field they helped to found, becoming perpetual “outsiders”, despite the intellectual value their work still holds.
The book places special attention on European émigré scholars, like Nathan Leites and Paul Kecskemeti, who had successful academic careers before moving to the US and whose works significantly impacted the field, but whose legacies are largely overlooked today. Both greatly contributed to the evolution of the field in the aftermath of the Second World War by introducing interdisciplinary approaches to more established subjects and bringing to bear their work on areas of research relatively unstudied in American contexts, such as on Communism (with which they both had negative interactions). Rantanen believes that these two scholars have been ignored because their work, though influential, went against established thinking of the time.
there is not a wasted sentence throughout the book as she sets out on her mission to understand the people that brought this field of study to life.
Numerous figures covered in the book were Americans who had jobs outside of academic or government institutions, positions that gave them unique insights that helped to further CCS. These include Jospeh M. Goldsen whom Rantanen identifies as one of the ‘Outsiders’ who became “temporary insiders” (149). Goldsen used his experience as a research director at the Normal Bel Geddes Company to help develop a number of methodologies for the “Wartime Communications Project” during the Second World War that would be crucial for the development of the study of the foreign press. However, despite the impact of his work, Goldsen was never a true insider, and often went uncredited by his supervisor within the project, Harold D. Lasswell. This is, sadly, but one of many examples Rantanen cites of contributions to knowledge being erased in such a way.
Following this history of side-lined contributions of the field’s key outsiders, the final chapter asks a valuable question: Why does this all matter? Rantanen’s response helps to underline the relevance of CCS in today’s polarised world:
“It matters, to quote Merton (1972, p.9), because, ‘as society becomes polarised, so do the contending claims to truth’. We are now again living through a period of extreme polarisation, both internationally and nationally, and again we see contending claims to ‘truth’. When the times are polarised, to again quote Merton (1972, p.19), ‘groups in conflict want to make their interpretation the prevailing one of how things were and are and will be’” (270).
This quote exemplifies two of the book’s strengths. Firstly, it shows how purposeful Rantanen is with her writing – there is not a wasted sentence throughout the book as she sets out on her mission to understand the people that brought this field of study to life. The scale of the research behind this effort is impressive, with Rantanen’s deep knowledge of and clear passion for this subject evident both in the impressive bibliographies and references underpinning each chapter.
Women’s impact on [Comparative Communications Studies] has been immeasurable and largely unacknowledged. Their labours took various forms, from researchers, research assistants and secretaries to the many female data encoders employed during the First World War.
Secondly, it exemplifies Rantanen’s careful balancing act of showing respect for the figures she is studying, while managing not to veer into idolising any one individual. Indeed, she manages to maintain a level of sympathy and respect even when delving into the personal lives of her subjects. This is perhaps most notable when she talks about the potential homosexuality of Harold D. Lasswell (one of the key founders of CCS), and how this could have affected his position as an Insider during a time when the LGBTQ+ community was firmly seen to be “outside” of traditional social norms, and therefore power structures. Through this careful handling of her subjects, she achieves what seems to be a central driving motivation for the book: the aim of providing a thoroughly humanising account of these potentially forgotten, yet important lives.
Rantanen’s sympathy extends beyond the known and named figures that are actively discussed in the book. Rantanen acknowledges that she could not make a book about those who had been hidden and downplayed in importance in establishing the field without acknowledging the role of women. Women’s impact on CCS has been immeasurable and largely unacknowledged. Their labours took various forms, from researchers, research assistants and secretaries to the many female data encoders employed during the First World War. She also highlights the unpaid, emotional labour of these women as partners and wives, acknowledged as such in various works, despite not being named. (Remarkably, Rantanen does manage to identify various important, but uncredited, women by name, such as Eleanor Blum, who acted as a research assistant for the Four Theories project.)
Overall, Dead Men’s Propaganda is a deeply sympathetic, thoroughly researched and comprehensive history by way of character study of the foundations and continued relevance of Comparative Communications studies.
Note: This review gives the views of the author and not the position of the LSE Review of Books blog, nor of the London School of Economics and Political Science.
Image: A still from a YouTube video about the book © LSE Film and Audio Team
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