Tieteentekijäpäivä event 7 November 2025
Timo R. Stewart
During the past couple of years, I have received a lot of feedback. I suppose this happens when you make repeated appearances in public media, particularly in current affairs programmes on TV. Researchers are not exceptions. Perhaps quite the opposite.
I have discussed this topic with many others with similar experiences, especially researchers. The shared experience seems to be that the feedback is very varied. Some of it is supportive, some insulting, some harassing and some quite simply baffling. Many colleagues have received, for example, detailed analyses of their grammatical mistakes. Hand gestures, mannerisms or clothing selections have elicited emails or calls from concerned citizens. Many female researchers, in particular, receive highly inappropriate and vulgar filth, generally from men.
The term ‘feedback’ is actually a little misleading in this context. I have received hundreds of emails and thousands of direct and public messages on social media channels, the main aim of which has been to insult or discredit me, sometimes to threaten as well.
The pattern is always the same. The writer does not like something that I have said. Based on this, they jump to a conclusion of what type of person I am, twist it into a caricature of sorts and attack it furiously. Very rarely do you get to read a factual critique of the issues of the statement itself.
This has frankly been a little surprising. Researchers are used to having their views challenged. It is part of the job description. Decently presented counter-arguments are a gift. They allow each of us to develop our thinking and find better answers and questions, together, through dialogue and debate. For social scientists in particular, it is absolutely vital to engage in social discourse, which naturally requires a willingness to listen to different views and an openness to critique.
I have laid myself open to this kind of discussion by making several conscious choices. I don’t mean just giving a lot of my time to the media, using clear language and attempting to be direct. Like many historians, I, too, have invested in writing books above all, hoping that it would make my work more available to a wider audience. I have written my books in Finnish because I have particularly wanted to encourage discussion in Finland and in Finnish.
These are choices that come with risks for a research career and funding applications. They do not place emphasis on maximising the number of publications or citations. However, I have wanted to tread my own path, and so far, I have also been given good opportunities to do so.
I consider social discourse in Finnish and the participation of research professionals therein to be vital for an open democratic society. The impact goes both ways. It involves researchers too. If social scientists do not participate in social discussion, they lose their ability to do so. No one can afford to hole up in an ivory tower.
The choice to participate in social discourse is, therefore, important. However, it doesn’t always bring about the desired result. It is good to recognise that, presently, instead of factual conversations, you will most often be met with insults, slander and attempts to discredit. I assume that my colleagues from different fields can attest to this. Whether the issue is vaccines, immigration, climate change, discrimination against women, racism, wolf populations or Palestine, your mailbox will be filled with malice and irritated emotional speech. Any arguments are conspicuous by their absence.
But this is not the whole picture. I have also received a lot of positive feedback. Unlike insults, gratitude is often given in person. Many have written very touching and encouraging messages. They have been extremely meaningful to me; they really help you to carry on. I am very grateful for them and try to remember to do the same myself.
However, there’s a feature in many of these encouraging messages that has been bothering me. And that is what I want to touch on today. A lot of people write specifically because they know or guess that I receive a lot of hate speech. Some state that they value my bravery.
I am truly grateful for these messages, but this last bit of information is also chilling. It is well-intended but it also sounds a little like a warning. Every time, it has left me wondering what exactly my act of bravery was.
I know that the feedback refers to the fact that I have spoken to the media about what is happening in Gaza. However, this has been a central part of my work. The topic is very familiar to me. I have conducted research on Western ideas about the Middle East. I have examined the research on Israel and Palestine extensively, especially in my own field of political history. I got first-hand experience of the dynamic of the Israeli occupation and its impacts on the lives of the Palestinian people when I lived and worked in Tel Aviv and East Jerusalem.
I am also aware that bravery is mentioned precisely because people can sense the storm of hate that is aimed at those who speak on the issue. But we live in an open society, a liberal democracy. Our press is among the freest in the world. We have a good education system, high-quality universities and a functional rule of law, with the citizens trusting the core institutions. The Finnish people value science, freedom of speech and reading.
I can write and speak freely, and the police won’t come for me in the night. I don’t have to fear getting shot in my doorway. No one will close down a paper or arrest the editor if they ask me for an interview.
And still, I receive praise for being brave.
I do recognise what they mean, and this is where the problem lays. Hate speech works. Silencing attempts work. Discrediting and slander work. I know many people who have a voice but lack the willingness – or the bravery – to engage in public discourse. I have heard words that are only spoken privately to avoid being attacked. There are almost certainly topics that are not researched because of fear that investigating them would lead to negative consequences.
When it is generally acknowledged that a researcher must be brave to speak on their area of expertise, we are already quite far on a slowly sloping path towards self-censorship. That is a path that ends with something far more dangerous than unpleasantly worded emails. This is why we must all be brave now.
How do we do it? By setting an example. Send encouraging feedback when there’s a reason to do so. It has an impact. Provide appropriate, respectful and factual critique publicly when there is a reason to do so.
And do not do these things just privately, but do them purposefully in public. Because what is much more essential than anyone’s views or persona is our ability to engage in factual discourse about social topics. This is the core competence area of research professionals. This is where we can set the best example. And it is our duty to do exactly that.
Photos Petri Summanen