This Professor Refuses to Disclose Her Work for an Autocratic Regime.
Here's What Happened When I Confronted Her.
BY STAFF
POSTED ON JANUARY 28, 2015
POSTED IN: NEWS, WORLD
The woman across the table demanded to know my cholesterol count. This
was in front of 30 others, during an on-the-record discussion at
Columbia University, where the woman--an academic named Brenda Shaffer,
a political science professor at the University of Haifa--replied to my
question about her non-disclosures with questions of her own.
"If I asked you, Casey, OK, what's your wife's name, what school do
you go to, who funds your scholarship right now, where do you work,
how do you pay your meals, how do--what's your cholesterol
count--there's nothing to be ashamed of in any of those answers,"
Shaffer said.
My cholesterol. My wife's name. Who paid my tuition, thus allowing me
to sit in on the panel discussing Azerbaijan's plans for a Southern
Gas Corridor to reroute Caspian gas toward European markets. The panel
featured Shaffer and Vitaliy Baylarbayov, the deputy vice president
from SOCAR, Azerbaijan's state-run hydrocarbon company. Shaffer
established her assertiveness early. Halfway through the discussion,
when the moderator, Jesse McCormick of the Center on Global Energy
Policy, referred to Shaffer as a "panelist," she stopped him.
"Moderator," she corrected. The discussion continued, through some
confused looks.
Once the floor opened, I raised my hand, interested in the role Tony
Blair was playing in lobbying for Azerbaijan's pipeline interests. I
was also interested in Shaffer's role that day--and why she decided not
to disclose her relationship with the Azerbaijani government, time and
again, on that panel and in print. A few weeks earlier, Shafferpenned
an op-ed in The New York Times claiming that Azerbaijan was the West's
important security partner and that, bizarrely, Russia's "next land
grab" would take place in the South Caucasus--rather than, say, Moldova
or northern Kazakhstan. (This claim presumably would prime the West to
offer greater diplomatic support for Azerbaijan in Moscow.) While most
analysts scratched their heads at Shaffer's reasoning, others focused
on why she wrote the article in the first place. As first reported by
RFE/RL, her impetus may have come from her role as an adviser "for
strategic affairs" for the president of SOCAR. According to The
Harvard Crimson, Shaffer has continued in that position, presenting a
distinct, laughable barrier to her claims of objectivity when
assessing Eurasian fuel.
When the relationship came to light, the Times was forced to issue an
editor's note saying Shaffer had breached a contractual obligation to
"disclose conflicts of interest, actual or potential." Shortly
thereafter, The Washington Postfollowed suit, issuing a clarification
on an op-ed in which Shaffer had stumped for Azerbaijan's pipeline
push. It's not clear whether members of Congress knew of Shaffer's
relationship when she testified at a commission hearing over the
summer, a discussion in which, in her stated capacity as a scholar,
she spoke glowingly of Baku's role as an American partner.
When I learned Shaffer would be speaking about Azerbaijan's
hydrocarbon potential--and when I saw that she would pose simply as an
academic, rather than disclosing her position as an official adviser
to the government-run energy behemoth--I saw an opportunity to ask why
she was so loath to disclose that relationship. "Professor Shaffer, I
was hoping to address a question to you," I said. "Your name has been
in the news a little bit recently. You were a strategic adviser, an
adviser for strategic affairs, for the president of SOCAR; you had an
op-ed in The New York Times that had to issue a correction clarifying
that. I was wondering if you might address that, and then whether or
not Congress was aware of that relationship when you testified."
The panel was not only on the record, but open to the public. Instead
of answering my questions--about her lack of disclosure to the Times,
to Congress, to us--she demanded to know my cholesterol count. I
repeated the question, asking if she had any comment about her choice
not to disclose the relationship, rather than her interests in my
romantic liaisons or financial well-being. "Again, like I said, I'm
not going to ask you your cholesterol count," she replied. "Who pays
your scholarship, Casey? How do you pay your tuition here?" McCormick
tried to interject: "I don't think we need to--" Shaffer cut him off,
zeroing in on my finances, voice beginning to boom. "Who pays your
tuition here?"
McCormick regained control of the discussion, redirecting the
conversation back to potentials for Azerbaijani fuel expansion. The
back-and-forth between me and Shaffer ended up as a story in its own
right. But I never got my answers. Shaffer has since continued
offering both broad analyses and arguments against Azerbaijan's
hydrocarbon competitors, always as an academic, never disclosing her
role as adviser.
Perhaps it's not fair to single out Shaffer; she's certainly not the
only one who has failed to disclose relations with organizations
propelling post-Soviet autocracies. Mark Adomanis, for instance,
continues as a "contributor" on Russian issues for Forbes, offering
some of the most sympathetic writing Russia enjoys. It also happens
that Adomanis was offering this "analysis" on Russia while
simultaneously working for the Kremlin's foremost propaganda outlet,
Rossiya Segodnya. Adomanis's analysis has been shredded by voices far
more qualified than my own, but when I asked him whether his work with
the Kremlin's propaganda outlet was paid or voluntary, Adomanis
wouldn't answer. When I then detailed the relationship, he accused me
of "vacuous preening."
Adomanis continues an unsettling trend among Forbes contributors, in
which writers fail to disclose relations with organizations buffing
the image and reach of post-Soviet autocracies. Last year, Hilary
Kramer--who had written a string of distinctly pro-Tajikistan pieces
with the outlet--was outed for her relationship with a public relations
firm fluffing the central Asian autocracy's image. In late 2012, as
Azerbaijan's civil rights backslide became a full-blown clampdown,
Kramer also staked that "Azerbaijan has charted a path for itself that
is not ideological, but open." Considering Azerbaijan currently boasts
twice as many political prisoners as Russia and Belarus combined, the
claim is, at the least, questionable.
To Forbes' credit, Kramer has not written for the publication since
her relationship came to light. But Shaffer, for one, continues to
make the rounds--with NPR, with the BBC--without pointing out that her
position as an official adviser with Baku undermines any claims she
has to objectivity.
These people continue to peddle their work, failing to disclose but
willing to buff the autocracies swamping the post-Soviet landscape.
They're part of a larger nexus of public-relations swill aimed at
drowning out human rights concerns in the region. Unlike the questions
Shaffer lobbed at me, their conflicts aren't personal--they're
business.
Casey Michel is a graduate student at Columbia University's Harriman
Institute. His writing has appeared in Foreign Policy, The Atlantic,
and Al Jazeera. He can be followed on Twitter at @cjcmichel.
By Casey Michel
http://www.armenianlife.com/2015/01/28/this-professor-refuses-to-disclose-her-work-for-an-autocratic-regime-heres-what-happened-when-i-confronted-her/
Here's What Happened When I Confronted Her.
BY STAFF
POSTED ON JANUARY 28, 2015
POSTED IN: NEWS, WORLD
The woman across the table demanded to know my cholesterol count. This
was in front of 30 others, during an on-the-record discussion at
Columbia University, where the woman--an academic named Brenda Shaffer,
a political science professor at the University of Haifa--replied to my
question about her non-disclosures with questions of her own.
"If I asked you, Casey, OK, what's your wife's name, what school do
you go to, who funds your scholarship right now, where do you work,
how do you pay your meals, how do--what's your cholesterol
count--there's nothing to be ashamed of in any of those answers,"
Shaffer said.
My cholesterol. My wife's name. Who paid my tuition, thus allowing me
to sit in on the panel discussing Azerbaijan's plans for a Southern
Gas Corridor to reroute Caspian gas toward European markets. The panel
featured Shaffer and Vitaliy Baylarbayov, the deputy vice president
from SOCAR, Azerbaijan's state-run hydrocarbon company. Shaffer
established her assertiveness early. Halfway through the discussion,
when the moderator, Jesse McCormick of the Center on Global Energy
Policy, referred to Shaffer as a "panelist," she stopped him.
"Moderator," she corrected. The discussion continued, through some
confused looks.
Once the floor opened, I raised my hand, interested in the role Tony
Blair was playing in lobbying for Azerbaijan's pipeline interests. I
was also interested in Shaffer's role that day--and why she decided not
to disclose her relationship with the Azerbaijani government, time and
again, on that panel and in print. A few weeks earlier, Shafferpenned
an op-ed in The New York Times claiming that Azerbaijan was the West's
important security partner and that, bizarrely, Russia's "next land
grab" would take place in the South Caucasus--rather than, say, Moldova
or northern Kazakhstan. (This claim presumably would prime the West to
offer greater diplomatic support for Azerbaijan in Moscow.) While most
analysts scratched their heads at Shaffer's reasoning, others focused
on why she wrote the article in the first place. As first reported by
RFE/RL, her impetus may have come from her role as an adviser "for
strategic affairs" for the president of SOCAR. According to The
Harvard Crimson, Shaffer has continued in that position, presenting a
distinct, laughable barrier to her claims of objectivity when
assessing Eurasian fuel.
When the relationship came to light, the Times was forced to issue an
editor's note saying Shaffer had breached a contractual obligation to
"disclose conflicts of interest, actual or potential." Shortly
thereafter, The Washington Postfollowed suit, issuing a clarification
on an op-ed in which Shaffer had stumped for Azerbaijan's pipeline
push. It's not clear whether members of Congress knew of Shaffer's
relationship when she testified at a commission hearing over the
summer, a discussion in which, in her stated capacity as a scholar,
she spoke glowingly of Baku's role as an American partner.
When I learned Shaffer would be speaking about Azerbaijan's
hydrocarbon potential--and when I saw that she would pose simply as an
academic, rather than disclosing her position as an official adviser
to the government-run energy behemoth--I saw an opportunity to ask why
she was so loath to disclose that relationship. "Professor Shaffer, I
was hoping to address a question to you," I said. "Your name has been
in the news a little bit recently. You were a strategic adviser, an
adviser for strategic affairs, for the president of SOCAR; you had an
op-ed in The New York Times that had to issue a correction clarifying
that. I was wondering if you might address that, and then whether or
not Congress was aware of that relationship when you testified."
The panel was not only on the record, but open to the public. Instead
of answering my questions--about her lack of disclosure to the Times,
to Congress, to us--she demanded to know my cholesterol count. I
repeated the question, asking if she had any comment about her choice
not to disclose the relationship, rather than her interests in my
romantic liaisons or financial well-being. "Again, like I said, I'm
not going to ask you your cholesterol count," she replied. "Who pays
your scholarship, Casey? How do you pay your tuition here?" McCormick
tried to interject: "I don't think we need to--" Shaffer cut him off,
zeroing in on my finances, voice beginning to boom. "Who pays your
tuition here?"
McCormick regained control of the discussion, redirecting the
conversation back to potentials for Azerbaijani fuel expansion. The
back-and-forth between me and Shaffer ended up as a story in its own
right. But I never got my answers. Shaffer has since continued
offering both broad analyses and arguments against Azerbaijan's
hydrocarbon competitors, always as an academic, never disclosing her
role as adviser.
Perhaps it's not fair to single out Shaffer; she's certainly not the
only one who has failed to disclose relations with organizations
propelling post-Soviet autocracies. Mark Adomanis, for instance,
continues as a "contributor" on Russian issues for Forbes, offering
some of the most sympathetic writing Russia enjoys. It also happens
that Adomanis was offering this "analysis" on Russia while
simultaneously working for the Kremlin's foremost propaganda outlet,
Rossiya Segodnya. Adomanis's analysis has been shredded by voices far
more qualified than my own, but when I asked him whether his work with
the Kremlin's propaganda outlet was paid or voluntary, Adomanis
wouldn't answer. When I then detailed the relationship, he accused me
of "vacuous preening."
Adomanis continues an unsettling trend among Forbes contributors, in
which writers fail to disclose relations with organizations buffing
the image and reach of post-Soviet autocracies. Last year, Hilary
Kramer--who had written a string of distinctly pro-Tajikistan pieces
with the outlet--was outed for her relationship with a public relations
firm fluffing the central Asian autocracy's image. In late 2012, as
Azerbaijan's civil rights backslide became a full-blown clampdown,
Kramer also staked that "Azerbaijan has charted a path for itself that
is not ideological, but open." Considering Azerbaijan currently boasts
twice as many political prisoners as Russia and Belarus combined, the
claim is, at the least, questionable.
To Forbes' credit, Kramer has not written for the publication since
her relationship came to light. But Shaffer, for one, continues to
make the rounds--with NPR, with the BBC--without pointing out that her
position as an official adviser with Baku undermines any claims she
has to objectivity.
These people continue to peddle their work, failing to disclose but
willing to buff the autocracies swamping the post-Soviet landscape.
They're part of a larger nexus of public-relations swill aimed at
drowning out human rights concerns in the region. Unlike the questions
Shaffer lobbed at me, their conflicts aren't personal--they're
business.
Casey Michel is a graduate student at Columbia University's Harriman
Institute. His writing has appeared in Foreign Policy, The Atlantic,
and Al Jazeera. He can be followed on Twitter at @cjcmichel.
By Casey Michel
http://www.armenianlife.com/2015/01/28/this-professor-refuses-to-disclose-her-work-for-an-autocratic-regime-heres-what-happened-when-i-confronted-her/