Using Brian Leiter's methodology, counting those who post at least semi-regularly (me, Eugene, Paul, Orin, Randy, Dale, Todd, Jonathan, and Jim), and excluding, as Leiter does, the untenured (Sasha and Ilya), and David Kopel, who is not an academic by profession (though he still has an impressive citation count), we would have a mean "scholarly impact" count of 670 (median of 572), trailing only Yale, Harvard, Stanford, and tied with Chicago. Adding occassional contributors Stuart, Russell, and David P. would lead to very similar results. (Numbers updated to correct calculation errors).
UPDATE: I just noticed that Leiter is only counting citations through last September. Adjusting the Conspirator's citations would still easily place us in fifth place, behind Chicago.
Related Posts (on one page):
- What If the Untenured Volokh Conspirators Were a Law Faculty?
- If the Volokh Conspirators Were a Law Faculty:
(It leads one to wonder: If the Volokh Conspirators were the pitching staff of a major league baseball team, what would its ERA be?)
This quickly does away with someone who has lots of papers that no one cites, or one paper that is really heavily cited (the one you got tenure for) and then a lot of papers that are ignored. This has been instituted in Web of Science
So when can we expect the "Volokh Conspiracy Online School of Law" to open its doors (so to speak)?
First, there is the industrious drudge: the competent but uninspired scholar who simply churns out huge amounts of writing in his or her field. Citation practices of law reviews being what they are, the drudge quickly reaches the threshold level of visibility at which one is obliged to cite his or her work in the obligatory early footnotes of any article in that field. The work is neither particularly good, nor especially creative or groundbreaking, but it is there and everyone knows it is there and it must be duly acknowledged.
Second, there is the treatise writer, whose treatise is standardly cited because like the output of the drudge it is a recognized reference point in the literature. Unlike the drudge, the authors of leading treatises are generally very accomplished scholars, but with the devaluation of doctrinal work over the past twenty years, an outstanding treatise writer—with a few exceptions—is not necessarily highly regarded as a legal scholar.
Third, there is the “academic surfer,” who surfs the wave of the latest fad to sweep the legal academy, and thus piles up citations because law reviews, being creatures of fashion, give the fad extensive exposure. Any study counting citations, depending on when it is conducted, runs the risk of registering the "impact" of the fad in disproportion to its scholarly merit or long-term value or interest.
Fourth, there is work that is cited because it constitutes “the classic mistake”: some work is so wrong, or so bad, that everyone acknowledges it for that reason. The citation and organizational preferences of student-edited law reviews exacerbate this problem. Since the typical law-review article must first reinvent the wheel, by surveying what has come before, the classic mistake will earn an obligatory citation in article after article in a particular field, even though the point of the article may be to show how wrong the classic mistake is. True, some authors of classic mistakes may have excellent reputations; but who among us aspires to be best remembered for a "grand" mistake?
Fifth, citation tallies are skewed towards more senior faculty, so that faculties with lots of “bright young things” (as the Dean of one famous law school likes to call top young scholars) won’t fare as well, while faculties with once-productive dinosaurs will. On the other hand, by looking only at citations since 2000, we have reduced the distorting effect of this factor.
Sixth, citation studies are highly field-sensitive. Law reviews publish lots on constitutional law, and very little on tax. Scholars in the public law fields or who work in critical theory get lots of cites; scholars who work on trusts, comparative law, and general jurisprudence do not.
A batting average is a meaningful statistic in baseball, but the arithmetic mean of batting averages over a whole team is meaningless. You have to use different tools than those your grade-school math teacher told you about.
I know you were making a different point, I was just preempting the inevitable discussion of the other points.
I'm not claiming that the statistical methodology Leiter uses is "valid." however, unlike batting averages in baseball, citation counts for law faculty are actually more telling for an entire faculty than for an individual faculty member. Indeed, I'd prefer medians to means, and I'd at least be interested to know what happens when you cut off the tails on either (or both) end. It would be also interesting to see statistics for, say, the 30th percentile of faculties, to see which faculties have good average productivity but whose scholarly culture does or does not pervade the vast majority of the faculty.
I am a historian, and I can assure you that a mediocre work on environmental history will do better than a stronger work on political history.
If humanities scholarship becomes this mechanistic, I think I'll go back to collecting snakes for zoos.
First Amendment (3 credits)
Second Amendment (9 credits)
Fourth Amendment (3 credits)
Supreme Court Seminar (3 credits)
Cool Stuff Found on the Web (3 credits)
But oddly enough,we could collectively cover a good part of the law school curriculum: criminal law and procedure, evidence, torts, trusts and estates, environmental law, con law, contracts, commercial law, bankruptcy, ad law, professional responsibility ...
I don't know. I think the glaring lack of Third Amendment scholarship is a real gap in the VC curriculum.
Mining court documents for funny stuff
(Part of the Common Core curriculum around here!)
I don't know, I've seen a couple things recently that suggest that he might be "growing in office" since his move to the big city...
Dunno, he always seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for Prof Bernstein.
This reflects more poorly on the legal academy than it does on treatise writers.
By height.
Makes me wonder (and maybe this has been explained before) - how you all got together in the first place.
http://yalelawjournal.org/2006/09/20/leiter.html
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I'm getting too old to care about any "letters" or "credentials", but I'm glad for having found this site.
It is certainly interesting and educational.
By height.
Ooh, good!
You'll want to hire, me. Despite my lack of a JD and law review pubs. I work in an office of 22, and I am the tallest here. So I bet I'd do wonders for your rankings.
So down to business: Tell me about the dental plan.