A Case of a Dysfunctional Project Between Historians and Elected Officials of a Peri-urban Commune

Doing History Is Not Telling the Story You Want

We wanted to interview teacher-researchers who have experience collaborating with elected officials or local authorities in order to report on these experiences and the challenges these encounters raise, including through their dysfunctions. To this end, we met with historian Etienne Faugier, who shared with us his work with elected officials who wanted to tell the history of their commune.

In what context did you work with political representatives? How did the meeting come about, and what do you think they expected from you?

One of my recent experiences working with elected officials was with a peri-urban commune east of Lyon, a request that had been passed on by a Master’s student of one of my fellow historians. The mayor wanted research to be conducted and a book to be produced on the history of his commune. There were four researchers to cover the four major periods to be traced (ancient, medieval, modern, and contemporary). I was assigned to the final, more contemporary part – the one that caused the most problems. The request was, in fact, to have “a beautiful book to offer new residents or newlyweds.”

What obstacles/challenges/limits did you encounter in this cooperation with elected officials/politicians?

The team of four researchers met about ten times with the mayor and the DGS (Director General of Services) of the commune to work on this project. We signed an agreement that went through the publisher chosen by the mayor. It was the commune that paid the publisher – through a cultural funding stream— who in turn paid us individually for the work carried out (mainly travel expenses, the salary of an intern, and a professional photographer). What was agreed upon was that our colleague would give a final lecture to present the book to the residents; a documentary was also filmed.

There were very few comments regarding the first three parts, but my contemporary section was modified dozens of times. Certain passages had to be removed – on urban brownfields, for example – or figures altered when INSEE (National Institute of Statistics and Economic Studies) data differed from the commune’s field data. Relations were tense because there were also short deadlines to meet – clashing with the long timeframe of historical research – and all editorial choices rested with the funding town hall. The result is a book that is weakened from an academic standpoint and difficult to showcase within the scientific community (even if that was not necessarily the municipality’s objective), despite the genuine archival and writing work.

For me, there was, on one hand, a lack of understanding of how historians work, and conversely, of how politicians work. The solution could have been to write the first three parts, which were less controversial, “as historians,” and let the cabinet write the last one. There was a problem with defining the project, defining what a book is and what a historian’s work is, as opposed to a journalist’s, for example – which is just as legitimate, but different. In the end, there was no closing lecture on site, but today we are nevertheless starting to showcase this work during scientific mediation events, such as Pint of Science in May 2026.

How would you evaluate this collaboration? Would you do it again?

The positive side was that we had very easy access to the archives, notably through the municipal archivist who was very invested in the project, and we were able to conduct genuine historical research. The result is a beautiful book, but not one that qualifies as scientific, and which we cannot, for instance, credit to our scientific careers.

Nonetheless, it was an opportunity to meet people who daily deal with issues I work on myself (urban planning, mobility, tourism, etc.), and if I had to do it over, yes, I would do it again. It would actually be very important and interesting for other communes to request such monographic work! But I would ask that the expectations be clearly laid out beforehand: Are there controversial topics to avoid? What kind of object do we want at the end: a piece of journalism, political communication, or a rigorous scientific work? We researchers also need to be clearer about what we are capable of and agree to deliver or not, keeping in mind that there is, of course, a dimension of knowledge mediation that we must also pursue.

What recommendations or measures could be put in place to improve this relationship?

In another project, for example, I was able to work with the Ministry of the Environment, which has a History Committee that acts as an intermediary and a translator, in a way, of the elected officials’ requests for the researchers. When there is no intermediary, it is sometimes difficult to work well together, whereas, when there is one, it is truly an opportunity for us to meet key stakeholders of the subjects we are interested in, to make our work known to them, and to assert our expertise.

We need to know how to build bridges, create emulation and networks – between scientific and political events, for example – to force these two worlds, which do not always communicate well, to cross paths so that elected officials can identify the right resource people and vice versa. Particularly for our discipline, we need to show that knowledge of history is relevant for steering the present, that there is a relevance for the long term in understanding the present.

There is a reluctance among colleagues to step out of “pure science,” which is made clear to us in the sense that these projects do not advance careers, and there is a real fear of speaking out on topics slightly outside our areas of expertise. I experienced this after an op-ed in the press, for example, where I received threats or at least faced a certain pressure from my peers – a judgment on actually daring, as a historian, to cross boundaries between subjects and periods.

Furthermore, throughout my career, I have been called upon for citizens’ conventions on mobility, for example. There, I brought real expertise within a clearer and healthier framework, with the freedom to express myself on subjects that are nevertheless also very sensitive: the place of the car in the city, low emission zones (ZFE), automobile taxation, public transport, etc. I have also been able to help make political choices clearer and have even been mobilized to help develop political programs during simple discussions requested by candidates. I found them quite willing to listen, and I indicated that I might be interested in a follow-up, but this raises a question for me: When should I speak out as an expert, and when am I simply a citizen?

Do you want to know more about the policy engagement toolkit?

Do you want to share your experience in policy engagement? Do you think about contributing to the policy engagement toolkit? Feel free to contact Tome Sandevski via science-policy@pvw.uni-frankfurt.de