Creating Space for Collective Wisdom
There’s a moment every policy researcher dreads: standing before senior decision-makers with pristine data, elegant methods, and bulletproof analysis – only to watch their eyes glaze over. It’s a humbling experience I came to know intimately during my early career at RAND. I watched work I thought was sophisticated fail to move the needle on issues that mattered deeply to communities worldwide. As a young professional who will spend decades living with the consequences of today’s policy decisions, I felt the weight of that disconnect acutely.
Learning to Listen
Before 2019, when I enrolled in “Science and the Human Experience,” I had struggled to spot that disconnect. In the course, what I discovered shattered my assumptions about effective research. The most quantitatively adept policy researchers, I learned, are often the least influential with decision-makers. The reason? They excel at generating insight – but struggle to communicate why those insights matter to real people facing real challenges.
Civic Science, the practice of bringing complex, uncertain, or divisive science issues into public dialogue while building meaningful relationships between scientists and citizens, exposed me to the truth that theory without data is philosophy, data without theory is noise – but data and theory without human context is irrelevant. The missing ingredient wasn’t more sophisticated analysis; it was the ability to listen, to facilitate dialogue, and to create space where different voices could be heard and understood.
This wasn’t just an academic revelation. It was deeply personal. Growing up as a dual national, I understood what it meant to navigate between different worlds and to translate perspectives across cultural divides. Now I realized I could apply this same instinct to policy research, connecting the world of policy with the world of lived experience.
Civic Science, the practice of bringing complex, uncertain, or divisive science issues into public dialogue while building meaningful relationships between scientists and citizens, exposed me to the truth that theory without data is philosophy, data without theory is noise – but data and theory without human context is irrelevant.
Putting Ideas into Practice
One such opportunity was a RAND Health study on patient and caregiver perspectives in quality metrics. Traditional approaches would have surveyed patients, analyzed responses, and made recommendations. Instead, our team created a Technical Expert/Clinical User/Patient Panel (TECUPP), bringing together insurers, doctors, and patients as equal partners in dialogue.
Quickly, our role as researchers transformed: we stepped back to become facilitators holding space for authentic conversation. Patients shared stories that data alone could never capture, insurers gained new understanding of care beyond claims, and doctors realized gaps between their clinical care and patients’ perceptions.
The panels weren’t easy to manage – time constraints and complex group dynamics challenged us constantly. But we persisted, creating lay friendly materials, beginning each meeting with patient stories, and ensuring any voice could be heard through multiple channels of communication.
Seeing the Impact
The impact of that design exceeded our wildest expectations. The paper has been downloaded thousands of times, validating an approach that centers patient voices in healthcare quality assessment. And it transformed how I approached subsequent projects.
When we investigated military recruiter access to high schools, we didn’t just analyze compliance data. We listened to the complex stories behind the numbers – school officials grappling with community concerns, recruiters struggling to build relationships with schools, students trying to understand their options. What emerged was a nuanced understanding that data alone could never reveal: access problems weren’t just about policy compliance but about trust, history, and human relationships.
A civic science approach began permeating other facets of my work, such as how I collaborated with research teams, how I communicated findings to different audiences, and how I engaged external partners. Colleagues noticed. My work gained greater uptake. I received recognition not just for technical skills but for bringing community perspectives into policy conversations.
How My Work Has Changed
Today, civic science principles aren’t just tools; they are fundamental to who I am as a researcher. At RAND, an organization committed to making communities safer, more secure, healthier, and more prosperous, I’ve found a calling in work that bridges analytical rigor with human understanding. Every project reinforces the idea that behind every data point is a human story, and behind every policy recommendation are real lives that will be affected. The young professional in me who felt overwhelmed by technical complexity has evolved into someone who views that complexity as incomplete without human context.
Looking Forward
For other young researchers feeling the gap between their technical training and their desire for meaningful impact, I offer this: the most sophisticated analysis means nothing if it doesn’t connect with the human experience it’s meant to serve. Civic science taught me that our calling isn’t to be the smartest person in the room. It is to create the conditions where collective wisdom can emerge and guide us toward solutions together.
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Anton Shenk researches artificial intelligence policy at RAND, focusing on how AI will reshape national security and global competition. Since taking Professor Garlick’s Civic Science seminar as a Tufts freshman in 2019, he’s been obsessed with the question: how do you make technically rigorous research actually matter to the people making consequential decisions? His work has been featured in publications like Marginal Revolution, but he’s most proud when policymakers tell him his analysis changed how they think about a problem. He lives in Arlington, VA with his partner, cooks compulsively, and collects signed first editions.




