Do we need another article or commentary on the meaning of populism? Lord, no! My research on this topic suggests that theoretical contributions are beginning to repeat themselves. Hence, I take a different starting point. I ask: “What’s at stake in how we think about populism?”. The title for the entry indicates the perspective I develop – my concerns about the overuse of “populism” and about the political implications of different characterisations and definitions. 

This entry was prompted by the frequent use of the term “populism” in contemporary politics and political analysis. I found myself wanting some guidance on the phenomenon. In addition, I wanted to see if WPR thinking (Research Hub entry 28 Dec 2025) could assist with this task. 

This entry will be the first of three contributions on the topic. It probes some of the definitional debates around “populism”. The next entry applies the WPR approach to important theoretical propositions about populism, including the “ideational” approach (Mudde 2017) and post-foundational contributions (e.g. Laclau 2005). These are preliminary investigations which, I hope, may stimulate interest on this vitally important topic and prompt additional research. 

“Defining” “populism” 

When theorists engage with the topic of “populism” they tend to adopt one of two different strategies: offering a definition or, bypassing definitions, to offer characterisations – lists of characteristics or principles. In this entry we pursue the first of these approaches. Mudde and Kaltwasser (2017) offer the best-known definition:  

A thin-centered ideology that considers society to be ultimately separated into two homogeneous and antagonistic camps, “the pure people” versus “the corrupt elite”, and which argues that politics should be an expression of the volonté generale (general will) of the people.

In a survey of the extensive literature on populism, Mansbridge and Macedo (2019, p. 60) conclude that “the only core elements – in both theory and practice – are ‘pitting the people in moral battle against elites’” (Meyer 2023, p. 847; emphasis in original).

A poststructuralist framework, such as WPR, encourages us to think about how definitions, such as the one just offered, constitute problematisations. Providing definitions is considered to be a limiting exercise. Mol et al. (2010) describe how, if you define what an apple is, you are henceforth constrained to see as apples only those things that match that definition. It follows that, if we accept Mudde and Kaltwasser’s definition of “populism”, we can only see political developments that match that characterisation. 

A more critical approach would ask how that definition represents the “problem” of “populism” (see Question 5 in WPR, Bacchi 2026, pp. 22-24). The thinking here follows Andersen’s (2003) work on the theoretical usefulness of second-order observation. This analytic strategy suggests that much is to be gained by refusing to reduce an observation to something else (for example, an ideology) and, instead, to produce an observation of an observation (Andersen 2003; Goodwin 2010). I will be offering observations of the Mudde and Kaltwasser observation (definition), focusing specifically on the distinction commonly drawn between “left-wing” and “right-wing” “populisms”. 

Where do definitions lead?

The Mudde and Kaltwasser definition produces “populism” as a singular phenomenon. “Populism” operates as a “catch-all label for political platforms or movements that challenge the political order, drawing on the “elite” versus “people” dichotomy” (Müller 2025, p. 19). In this tradition the analysis becomes about “populism” pure and simple (Head and Banerjee 2020), or there are broad generalisations such as “in populist times” (Meyer 2024, p. 847) or “populist political orientation” (Štětka et al. 2025, p. 1039). Judis (2016) describes populism as “occurring independently of political leanings” (in Meyenburg 2025). 

Within the broad category of “populism” Mudde and Kaltwasser (2017) argue that “left-wing populism is much more inclusionary and socio-economically egalitarian than its right-wing counterpart” (in Meyenburg 2025, p. 1088). We have here distinctions drawn within a general phenomenon, thus retaining the broad category “populism”. 

Müller (2025, p.19) contends that such a “loose conception” of “populism” is overinclusive. He sees the people/elite dichotomy as rhetorics that “obscure important differences between political ideologies”: 

“They tend to lump together distinct political platforms – such as left- and right-wing parties – which not only have very different historical roots but also adhere to fundamentally different set (sic) of normative and epistemological premises.”

Müller suggests that we need closer examination of specific political perspectives. Drawing attention to “elites” and “corruption” cannot, on its own, constitute “populism”.  

“As noted by political economist László Andor (2020: 24), even green and liberal parties in developing countries occasionally employ this rhetoric to combat entrenched elite corruption.”

Wilder (2026) agrees. He notes how the common tendency to refer to “populism” as embracing “left-wing” and “right-wing” versions has a range of concerning political effects. Such an approach, he argues, leads to the characterisation of all “populist” leaders as similar and as lacking in desirable traits.

 Bernie Sanders and Alexandra Ocasio-Cortez are treated as “left analogues of ultraright racist, xenophobic, militarized, antidemocratic, and fascistic politics that have become increasingly normalized in recent years”. 

Wilder recognises that “both currents” (“left” and “right”) challenge traditional elites, entrenched institutions, and certain liberal norms. “But”, he emphasises, “they are otherwise incommensurable” (emphasis added). Andor (2020, p. 22) is similarly critical of “heaping together various political qualities, e.g. the far right and the radical left, which are otherwise arch enemies of each other” (emphasis added). 

Positing a “false equivalence” between “right” and “left” “populism” treats “insurgent politics [of all kinds] as intrinsically antidemocratic” (Wilder 2026). A general “taming” of political action and protest takes place – “civic virtue is identified with civility, compromise, and consensus” (Wilder 2026). 

To work against these effects, Wilder (2026) recommends leaving behind the common practice of referring to “left-wing” and “right-wing” “populism” and adopting Stuart Hall’s (1988a) distinction between “authoritarian populism” and “popular democracy”. Wilder elaborates: 

“I thus break with the common tendency to regard authoritarianism as one form that populism may assume. Rather, I suggest that we recognize populism as one form that authoritarianism may assume.” 

In this suggestion, “populism” becomes a secondary term and our political analysis targets authoritarian political practices. Mudde (in Petersen 2013; emphasis added) also recommends that far-right parties should be called “populist radical right” as opposed to “radical right populist”, as the latter would put the emphasis on populism (a secondary characteristic) away from radical right (which Mudde argued was the core of the ideology). Following this argument, I would prefer that we talk about “populist authoritarianism” rather then “authoritarian populism”. 

Wilder’s political evaluation goes further. He follows Stuart Hall’s (1988b, p. 56 in Wilder) analysis of the rise of Thatcher with the proposition that “the right is what it is partly because of what the left is”. In looking to explain the rise of “right-wing populism”, he challenges “liberalism’s refusal to recognize the manifold ways that its own assumptions, politics, contradictions, and impasses are implicated in the rise of authoritarian populism, insofar as it helped to create its conditions of possibility” (see Research Hub entry on Authoritarian Governmentality 28 Sept 2025). In this explanation, “a contradictory liberalism nourishes authoritarian populism that in turn serves as an alibi for more liberalism”. There is clearly a lot at stake in our theoretical choices. 

Returning to the question of definitions, producing a term “populism” invokes its opposite, “not populism”. Such a distinction makes it difficult to analyse the terrain between the two and hence overlaps in political developments. The targeting of “populism”, for example, allows political leaders to rule in ways that are meant to keep “the populists” at bay:

Blanket anti-populism today opens the door to Macron-ism (i.e. a belief that progressives are supposed to integrate into a broad, pro-European, but essentially technocratic tent, and that staving off the far right requires dropping the social agenda. (Andor 2020, p. 26; emphasis added).

Indicatively, Hillary Clinton (2018) cautioned European leaders to “curb immigration to stop right-wing populists”. On this point we need to watch Tony Burke’s much anticipated announcement on immigration. 

 “Populism” as euphemism?

When we adopt a euphemism, the intent is to “soften” the message, to make it more palatable to more people. So, we talk about “passing away” instead of “dying”. If we are concerned about authoritarian developments in diverse political settings worldwide, it may be wise to avoid the euphemism “populism” for such developments. Andor (2020, p. 26) makes the point clearly: 

While not at all irrelevant as a concept, the overuse of populism today is a sign of intellectual laziness and a substitute for proper political analysis. It has never properly been explained why nationalist, authoritarian, far right and neo-fascist tendencies should not be called nationalist, authoritarian, far right, or neo-fascist, but populist instead.

There are expressed attempts to win over “populism” for the left that deserve attention. We will be looking at Laclau (2005) next time. In an article titled “Green Populism? Action and mortality in the Anthropocene”, Davies (2019, Abstract) argues on behalf of “a less pejorative understanding of populism”. He expresses the hope that “we might be able to identify elements within that can be usefully channelled and mobilised towards the urgent rescue of human and non-human life”. He identifies a number of “left populists” who are “already positioning environmental issues as popular concerns”. Along similar lines, Agustín (2025, p. 73) pursues how “left-wing or progressive populism relates to environmental issues” and likewise speaks about “green populism”.

Meyer (2024) explains the context for these “green” interventions. He calls for “a more inclusive conception of populism and a more critical and plural account of expertise”. According to Meyer, what is at stake is competing worldviews. He mentions, for example, Indigenous ecological knowledge and citizen science, as ways of knowing that contest dominant forms of science and elite power (Meyer 2023, p. 846). Going further, he describes these ways of knowing as themselves “forms of expert knowledge”. In this way Meyer, along with Davies and Agustin, disrupt the core part of the definition of “populism” produced by Mudde and Kwalwasser (see above) that sets “the people” against “elites”. Whether or not it is possible to “reclaim” populism from the nationalists and neo-fascists identified by Andor (above) is up for debate.

Currently I find myself more concerned by the euphemistic adoption of “populism” (for neo-fascism, authoritarianism, etc.) than by the possibility of reclaiming the term. I would suggest that to an extent we are prisoners of the current political climate that makes “populism” a dangerous word. Reflecting on how definitions set the parameters for judging political developments, I also fear that we may see more and more “populisms” replacing thoughtful political analysis. 

With the “core elements” of “populism” identified as “pitting the people in moral battle against elites” (see above), where does this leave governmentality studies that raise critical questions regarding “expert knowledges” (Bacchi 2026, pp. 4, 15)? Will they fall within some broad “populist” branding? Or would appeals to the “voice” of the people and to “lived experience” as a form of knowledge be cast as a species of “populist” thinking because they appear to adopt a “people vs expert” framework? On this criterion, are we all “populists”? 

Conclusion

The point of this entry is to encourage a different approach to “populism” from conventional definitional approaches. It highlights the need to consider the political implications of our theoretical propositions (including our definitions). Mol’s (2002, p. 155; emphasis in original) argument about the political impact of “methods” sets the tone: “Methods are not a way of opening a window on the world, but a way of interfering with it. They act, they mediate between an object and its representation”.

Some strategies to manage overuse of the term “populism” could involve: (1) treating “populism” as a secondary characteristic, thereby focusing attention on the political agendas of so-called “populists”; (2) paying close attention to the repercussions of producing dichotomies (i.e. people vs elite; populism/not populism) in one’s analysis, considering what is left unsaid (see Question 4 in WPR, Bacchi 2026, pp. 22-24); and (3) following Andor (2020) placing emphasis on the substance rather than the style of “populism”, requiring “deep inquiry into historical background and economic foundations … to better understand nationalist and far-right tendencies and to develop more effective strategies against right-wing extremism in the name of humanity, equality and solidarity”. 

REFERENCES

Agustín, O. G. and Jerne, I. 2025. Green populism: Counterpublics and the formation of counterknowledge. In M. M. Roslyng, A. Rantasila, A. and A. M. Jönsson (eds) Communicating Science, Climate Change and the Environment in Hybrid Media, NY: Routledge.

Andersen, N. 2003. Discursive analytical strategies: Understanding Foucault, Koselleck, Laclau Luhmann. Bristol: Policy Press.

Andor, L. 2020. Against a General Theory of Populism: The Case of East-Central Europe. ZBW – Leibniz Information Centre for Economics, Forum, DOI: 10.1007/s10272-020-0864-6 

Bacchi, C. 2026. What’s the Problem Represented to be? A new thinking paradigm. NY: Routledge.

Clinton, H. 2018. The Guardian 23 November. 

Davies, W. 2020. Green Populism?: action and mortality in the anthropocene. Environmental Values, 29(6), 647–668. Retrieved from https://research.gold.ac.uk/id/eprint/27259/ 

Goodwin, S. 2010. Chapter 15: Analysing Policy as Discourse: Methodological Advances in Policy Analysis. In L. Markauskaite, P. Freebody and J. Irwin (eds) Methodological Choice and Design: Scholarship, Policy and Practice in Social and Educational Research, pp. 167-180.

Hall, S. 1988a. Authoritarian populism: a reply to Jessop. In The hard road to renewal: Thatcherism and the crisis of the left. S. Hall, ed. pp. 115–124. London: Verso. 

Hall, S. 1988b. The great moving right show. In The hard road to renewal: Thatcherism and the crisis of the left. S. Hall, ed. Pp. 39–56. London: Verso. 

Head, B. W. & Subho Banerjee 2020. Policy expertise and use of evidence in a populist era, Australian Journal of Political Science, 55:1, 110-121, DOI: 10.1080/10361146.2019.1686117 

Judis, J. B. 2016. The Populist Explosion – How the Great Recession transformed American and European Politics. Columbia Global Reports.

Laclau, E 2005. Populism: What’s in a name? In: Panizza F (ed.) Populism and the Mirror of Democracy. London: Verso, pp.32–49.

Mansbridge J and Macedo S 2019. Populism and Democratic Theory. Annual Review of Law and Social Science 15 (1): 59–77. 

Meyenburg, I. 2025. Neoliberalism and Right-Wing Populism–A Love Story, Journal of Economic Issues, 59:4, 1084-1096, DOI: 10.1080/00213624.2025.2575146 

Meyer, J. M. 2024. Power and Truth in Science-Related Populism: Rethinking the Role of Knowledge and Expertise in Climate Politics. Political Studies 72(3): 845-861, DOI: 10.1177/00323217231160370.

Mol, A, Moser, I, Piras, EM, Turrini, M, Pols, J & Zanutto, A 2010, Care in practice: on normativity, concepts, and boundaries, Technoscienza, Italian Journal of Science and Technology Studies, vol. 2, no. 1, pp. 73–86. DOI: 10.6092/issn. 2038-3460/16996. 

Mol, A 2002, The body multiple: ontology in medical practice, Duke University Press, Durham, NC. 

Mudde, C. 2017. Populism: An ideational approach. In: Rovira Kaltwasser C, Taggart PA, Espejo PO and Ostiguy P (eds) The Oxford Handbook of Populism. Oxford: Oxford University Press, pp.27–47.

Mudde C and Kaltwasser C R 2017. Populism: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Müller, J. F. 2025. An Epistemic Account of Populism. Episteme, 22, 1-22, doi:10.1017/epi.2023.39 

Petersen, M. 2013. Populism as a thought-defying cliché. Open Democracy, available at: https://www.opendemocracy.net/en/populism-as-thought-defying-cliche-2/. Referenced 30 April 2026.

Štětka, V. et al. 2025. Have people “had enough of experts”? The impact of populism and pandemic misinformation on institutional trust in comparative perspective, Information, Communication & Society, 28:6, 1039-1060, DOI: 10.1080/1369118X.2024.2413121 Wilder, G. 2026. Populism as Liberal Alibi: Recalling Stuart Hall’s Analysis of Thatcherism. Current Anthropology, 67, supplement 26, https://doi.org/10.1086/739791

I ended my last entry (“‘Engaging’ with generative AI”, 28 June 2026) by asking if a “reflexive” GenAI is feasible and what would this look like. My query was prompted by Zheng and Hardy (2026) who use GenAI (Copilot) in their WPR study of a Chinese education policy document pertaining to the initiation of national competency-based education reforms.

In that entry I pointed out that Zheng and Hardy omitted a part of the WPR approach, specifically the undertaking to apply the WPR questions to your own problem representations. This undertaking is named as Step 7 of the approach in Bacchi and Goodwin, 2016, p. 20, and as Process 7 in Bacchi 2026, p. 24. It is intended to encourage “self”-problematisation, explained in some detail in Chapter 6 of Bacchi 2026. I note in the 2026 book that I changed the wording from “Step 7” to “Process 7” to reinforce the interconnected nature of the WPR forms of analysis (Bacchi 2026, p. 25 fn 2). ChatGPT tends to refer to Step 7. 

At the end of the previous entry on Zheng and Hardy (28 June 2026), I was left wondering what would have happened to the analysis if Process 7 has been included – how would GenAI deal with “self”-problematisation? I decided to find out. 

Stage 1: Applying the WPR template

I borrowed the policy document from Zheng and Hardy and prompted ChatGPT: “Apply the seven questions in Bacchi’s WPR to China’s education policy, called the Suyang (素养) policy.” (In this entry I am restricting my comments to experiments with ChatGPT-5.5.) Note that I say “seven questions” to ensure that Process 7 is included. 

ChatGPT responded by clarifying its task: “I’ll treat ‘Suyang/素养’ as the Chinese education-policy discourse around student ‘core competencies’ or ‘quality/competence cultivation,’ then map it through Bacchi’s seven WPR questions”. Note the reference to “seven” questions.

To begin, the ChatGPT analysis stated that “Below is one way to apply Bacchi’s ‘What’s the Problem Represented to be?’ (WPR) framework to China’s Suyang / 素养 policy, usually translated as core competencies, key competencies, or competence-based education”. Allow me to highlight the reference here to “one way” to apply WPR, linked to the proposition considered later in this entry that there are different “versions” of WPR (see below).

ChatGPT proceeds to apply WPR, addressing each question and the undertaking to apply the questions to your own problem representations (i.e. Step/Process 7). For those of you who have engaged this program previously, you will not be surprised to find out that it does a superlative job. I could not help but be impressed by the insights generated. 

I do not intend to run through the complete analysis as you can access this material yourself by asking ChatGPT to apply WPR to the selected Chinese language policy (you may of course receive modified analysis). Instead, I intend to zoom in on the topic of interest in this Research Hub entry – how did ChatGPT deal with Step/Process 7 and hence with “self”-problematisation? 

Stage 2: Applying Step/Process 7

ChatGPT introduces this task by asking analysts “to turn the lens back on themselves”. It proceeds to produce some perceptive insights. For example, it notes: 

“In my analysis above, I have represented the suyang policy partly as a form of governance through competence. That framing carries its own assumptions. It may overemphasise control, standardisation, and subject formation, while underplaying genuine educational aspirations within the policy: reducing rote learning, broadening student development, supporting moral education, and making learning more relevant. (Analysis performed using ChatGPT on 18 May 2026; emphasis in original).”

ChatGPT proceeds to note that the “critical policy tradition” “implicitly drawn on” in the analysis “risks treating policy ideals as mainly disciplinary or instrumental”. It therefore concludes that “A fairer analysis would hold both possibilities together”:

“suyang policy may be both an attempt to humanise education beyond exam scores and a way of expanding the state’s capacity to define and monitor desirable student subjectivities. (emphasis added)”

Here I want to highlight the phrase “A fairer analysis”. The language of fair and unfair does not do justice to the “self”-problematisation undertaking. The point is not to pass judgement on your problematisations but to probe them for unexamined assumptions. As Stengers (2008, p. 46) explains, there is a need to “make ‘us’ hesitate about our own conditions of thought” (pp. 41–42). Here Stengers is signalling the need to pay attention to the deep-seated epistemological and ontological assumptions that make “our own conditions of thought” possible. In addition, the statement that a more desirable analysis (“a fairer analysis”) would hold the two propositions together (“hold both possibilities together”) imposes a “neutrality” that has political effects – as I proceed to explain. 

ChatGPT ends the section on Step/Process 7 by describing “my own problem representation”:

“The suyang policy may transform the apparent problem of narrow education into a broader project of governing students, teachers, and schools through competency discourse.”

It then offers an “alternative reading”:

“The suyang policy is an attempt to reconcile Chinese moral-political educational traditions, global competency-based reform, and practical dissatisfaction with rote learning.”

Importantly, the ChatGPT analysis concludes that “both readings are plausible”: “A strong WPR analysis would not simply decide which one is ‘true,’ but examine how each framing makes some things visible and others less visible”. 

I took exception to the suggestion that both “readings” were “plausible”. Indeed, the reference to the contrasting problem representations as “readings” reveals an approach to WPR distinctly at odds with its development in my writing. In that work the goal is to consider how governing takes place through selected policies and governmental mechanisms, not to produce competing accounts of modes of governance. I decided to pursue the point with ChatGPT. 

Prompting ChatGPT 

I prompted: “Doesn’t your argument that both readings are plausible ignore the political dimension of the issue?”

With this prompt, things started to get interesting. 

ChatGPT responded: “Yes – that is a fair criticism”.  

I was happy to hear it. 

It continued: 

“Saying ‘both readings are plausible’ risks making the analysis sound overly balanced or neutral, when WPR is specifically designed to expose how policy problematisations are political. In this case, the politics are not incidental; they are central.”

I was very happy to hear it. 

We are then offered what is described as “a better WPR reading” and “a more critical Bacchian version”, “a sharper version” and a “stronger WPR analysis”. The “sharper version” would conclude: “The suyang policy should not be understood as a neutral correction to exam-oriented schooling. It is a political problematisation of the student, the teacher, and the purpose of schooling.” 

As with the language of “fairer” above, the suggestion that there are “stronger” and “weaker” versions of WPR misses the point and purpose of WPR as an analytic strategy. Its goal is to encourage political reflection on governing practices in order to highlight where changes may be needed. A WPR way of thinking provides a framework for reflecting critically on these variables. Such critical reflections “sow the seeds of judgement” (Osborne 1998 in Rose 2000, p. 59), helping to make judgement possible. 

By contrast, in this application of WPR, the analysis is put forward as balanced or neutral, in line with ChatGPT’s insistence that it does not engage in politically partisan issues, as pointed out in the earlier Research Hub entry 29 Sept.2023 on the topic. ChatGPT produces analyses in line with the theoretical framing offered by WPR but it does not itself take a political stand. It suggests the situation is a matter of “fair” or “less fair” analysis, or of “weaker” or “stronger” views.

Note, I am not saying that ChatGPT is politically neutral. In the earlier entry (29 Sept 2023) I point to a neoliberal bias in the model I used. Here, I am highlighting that ChatGPT claims to be neutral. I would argue that the position of “neutrality” that it defends is a political stance! Referring to “weaker” and “stronger” versions of WPR neutralizes the political analysis – very much a political effect that requires questioning. 

What does all this mean in terms of how we can use ChatGPT? In the previous entry (28 June 2026) I highlight its usefulness in translation. I would also suggest that the analysis performed in this particular case is very useful and would certainly alert readers to points that might not have occurred to them. Still, it remains important, I believe, to recognise the depoliticizing effects of its defence of political neutrality. 

The politics of “prompting” WPR

The point I make above is driven home if we consider the kind of analysis produced prior to my second prompt (repeated here from above) -“Doesn’t your argument that both readings are plausible ignore the political dimension of the issue?”. 

You may recall that the conclusion ChatGPT reached prior to my second prompt is that two opposed readings of China’s education were plausible. It reads:

 “The suyang policy may transform the apparent problem of narrow education into a broader project of governing students, teachers, and schools through competency discourse.”

It then offers an “alternative reading”.

“The suyang policy is an attempt to reconcile Chinese moral-political educational traditions, global competency-based reform, and practical dissatisfaction with rote learning.”

Without my second prompt, the matter would be left there, with researchers more or less being invited to choose one or the other proposition. Underlying political issues are left undiscussed, encouraging a poorly developed understanding. 

I raised the same issue in the earlier Research Hub entry (29 Sept 2023). There I addressed the question of whether or not AI has a left-leaning bias, a common characterisation (see earlier entry). By examining the responses to the WPR questions, I was able to show a neoliberal or liberal leaning rather than a structural perspective. None of this would have emerged without useful prompts. As I conclude in that entry: “it was possible to shift ChatGPT in the direction of a more structural analysis through asking explicit follow-up questions”. As I go on to argue, to pose such follow-up questions requires a prior engagement with the literature and with contesting points of view. 

In the case at hand, without the second prompt, we would be left with a view that WPR can either support the status quo or not – it’s up to you. It is argued: you can “choose” a weaker or a stronger version of WPR.

This result suggests to me that we need coaching in how to prompt. Basically, what is reported reflects what is asked. We need to find ways to ensure that politics remains front and centre of the questioning. With my second prompt (see above) I managed to extract a more structural understanding of the “problem” of Chinese education policy. Could I have pushed the matter further? Possibly. 

The key outcome, as I see it, is to recognize that the material produced in ChatGPT reflects the material available. There is an inherent conservative bias. When or if we ask it to apply WPR we can expect something like what is produced in the reading above – a “balanced” view of the matter. The final message, then, is to tread cautiously around the analysis produced. 

“Politics of the prompt” (Amoore 2026)

An important article by Amoore et al. (2026) on the “politics of the prompt” allows us to understand what happened to WPR at the hands of ChatGPT – how it was neutralised. They describe “the prompt” as a “mutation in the exercise of political power”: “the formulation of the prompt changes the politics of what can be said, what questions can be asked, what decisions can be made”. As I outlined in the previous section, my second prompt made it possible to produce a more structural analysis of the Chinese education reforms. Without that prompt, the analysis would have been politically “neutral” and hence neutralized. 

Amoore et al. (2026; Abstract) locate themselves within a tradition of thought that conceives of government as “the broad ensemble of ‘techniques and procedures by which one sets about conducting the conduct of self and others’ (Foucault 2010, p. 4).” Working in that governmentality tradition (Bacchi 2026, Chapter 7), they describe “the prompt” as 

“an emerging political technology which makes possible a wider governmental rationality – a means of conducting conduct, governing population and ordering the space of what can count as the political (Barry, 2001; Dean, 1999; Miller & Rose, 1990) Amoore et al. 2026, p. 575, emphasis in original).  

The authors identify three defining features of the “governmental rationality” of “the prompt”: describing a task, eliciting a desired response, and engineering a prompt. When describing a task, “the user’s interaction with the model is always also the shaping of the model and the world as such” (Amoore et al. 2026, p. 581). Eliciting prompts involves eliciting a desired behaviour from the model (p. 583). To prompt heralds the arrival of the “prompt engineer”, “a novel form of expertise and a new kind of self-governing subject” (p. 586). 

According to Amoore et al. (2026, p. 582) “the prompt frames, delimits and condenses what can be known of the problem (‘what do we know about?’) and aligns that problem ever closer to the task that best fits the model’s view of the world.” Here I’d point out how references to “problems” and “problem-solving” form part of the taken-for-granted framework of “computational thinking” (Bacchi 2026, pp. 206-208). In this thinking, the goal is to find the most appropriate prompt “to allow a language model to solve the task at hand” (p. 586). There is no space in this thinking to query the nature or purpose of the task. The status quo is reinforced.

If “prompts” shape social relations, we need to attend to them carefully. It’s all in the questions. You will get what you ask for. As Baum and Villasenor (2023; emphasis added) note, 

“seemingly small changes in how a prompt is constructed can lead to very different responses. This is because AI-powered chatbots identify which data to draw from in a manner that is highly sensitive to the specific phrasing of the query”.

To repeat the point made in the earlier entry (29 Sept 2023), thinking precedes prompting. I’m not suggesting here that we become “prompt engineers” (see Amoore et al. on this topic). Rather, we need to become aware of the political dimension lurking within apparently “neutral” commentary, and consider how your prompts can affect that analysis. The initial ChatGPT output needs to be approached sceptically with follow-up questions that ensure politics remains a primary consideration. Beyond recognizing how prompts shape realities, the politics of the prompt includes consideration of the effects that accompany a failure to prompt. 

Conclusion

As indicated above, I was deeply impressed with many of the insights generated when I asked ChatGPT to analyse China’s education reforms using WPR. My specific goal was to observe how Step/Process 7 was handled. The section on Step/Process 7 displayed some useful consideration of the assumptions within ChatGPT’s WPR analysis. Things “broke down”, I would say, in the (1) general framing of WPR as “strong” or “weak”, as appearing in “versions”, and (2) the suggestion that blending these “versions” is a useful way to proceed. Here ChatGPT fails to apply “self”-problematisation to this analysis and hence fails to recognize the politically quiescent view of social relations that accompanies it. 

References

Amoore, L., Bennett, SJ, Campolo, A., Jacobsen, B. and Rella, L. 2026. Politics of the prompt: Government in the age of generative AI. Economy and Society, 54:3, 573-596, DOI: 10.1080/03085147.2025.2560177 

Bacchi, C. 2026. What’s the Problem Represented to be? A new thinking paradigm. NY: Routledge. 

Bacchi, C. and Goodwin, S. 2016. Poststructural Policy Analysis: A Guide to Practice. Second edition, 2025. NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Barry, A. (2001). Political machines: Governing a technological society.Bloomsbury.

Baum, J. and Villasenor, J. (2023). The politics of AI: ChatGPT and political bias. Brookings, 8 May. (https://www.brookings.edu/blog/techtank/2023/05/08/the-politics-of-ai-chatgpt-and-political-bias/

Dean, M. (1999). Governmentality: Power and rule in modern society. Sage.

Foucault, M. (2010). The government of self and others: Lectures at the Collège de France 1982–1983. Palgrave Macmillan. 

Miller, P. & Rose, N. (1990). Governing economic life. Economy and Society, 19(1), 1–31.

Rose, N 2000, Powers of freedom: reframing political thought, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. DOI: 10.1017/CBO9780511488856. 

Stengers, I 2008, ‘Experimenting with refrains: subjectivity and the challenge of escaping modern dualism’, Subjectivity, vol. 22, pp. 38–59. DOI: 10.1057/sub. 2008.6. 

Zheng, D. and Hardy, I. 2026. “Thinking the unthinkable: Generative AI for collaborative, intra-active policy analysis”. Methodological Innovations,

https://doi.org/10.1177/20597991261448572

This entry is prompted by an article by Danson Zheng and Ian Hardy titled: “Thinking the unthinkable: Generative AI for collaborative, intra-active policy analysis” (Methodological Innovations, 2026).I call to “stop the press” because of the urgency of this topic.

The project in Zheng and Hardy, put simply, is to facilitate a form of dialogue between the researcher and Copilot, an AI-powered conversational assistant. The intended outcome is to generate novel insights into the researched topic. In particular, the goal is to assist researchers to think beyond conventional conceptual premises, thereby assisting them to address Question 4 in the WPR approach: “What is left unproblematic in this problem representation? What is silenced? Can the ‘problem’ be conceptualised differently?” (Bacchi 2026, p. 24).

This project is of particular interest to WPR researchers because WPR is selected as the “analytical method” guiding the analysis. Specifically, WPR is drawn upon to inform the analysis of a Chinese education policy document pertaining to the initiation of national competency-based education reforms within the whole Chinese education system. The Zheng and Hardy article provides a good deal of detail about exactly how the researchers approached this task. Their approach included asking Copilot specifically about its understanding of WPR to see if it matched that of the primary researcher, Danson (Zheng’s first name Danson is used throughout the article): “With this explicit guidance, Copilot responded with interpretations of the theoretical underpinnings as the way Danson understood the [WPR] approach” (Zheng and Hardy 2026, p. 7). 

In a past entry (Research Hub 29 Sept 2023) I indicated that I was interested in seeing what AI had to offer WPR researchers. I continue to think this topic is vitally important given the speed at which AI is developing and its expanding place in our lives. The Zheng and Hardy article attracted my interest primarily because it directly considers if Copilot comprehends the theory informing a WPR analysis. For example, Danson (Zheng) asks Copilot about the place of Foucault in WPR: “Could you explain how Bacchi’s WPR approach is built on Foucault’s concepts?”. In this Research Hub entry I will highlight the parts of the Zheng and Hardy analysis that I found most useful and indicate areas where, I believe, more thinking is required. The commitment to produce a form of “agential engagement between the human ‘I’ and the non-human ‘GenAI’” is, I believe, well worthwhile but there are obstacles to overcome.

Copilot, Danson and WPR

The difficulties begin at the outset. Danson (Zheng) asks Copilot: “could you use the six analytical questions in Bacchi’s WPR approach to analyse” the specified Chinese education policy? As is well known, with AI usage, you will get basically what you ask for, making it crucial to pay attention to your questions. Danson asks for sixWPR questions as listed on page 6 of the Zheng and Hardy article. The questions are taken from Bacchi 2012, p. 21. I won’t repeat them since they are commonly referenced. 

What I wish to point out is that something is missing from the list. At the bottom of the list of questions in the 2012 article (on p. 21), it reads “Apply this list of questions to your own problem representations”. This statement fails to appear in Danson. I’ll admit that, in the 2012 publication, it may have been possible to consider this instruction as outside of, rather than part of, WPR. However, if researchers check other renditions of the WPR Table of “questions” it is difficult to make this error of omission. For example, in both Tables in Analysing Policy (Bacchi 2009), the statement “Apply this list of questions to your own problem representations” appears clearly as part of the WPR approach (see the boxed versions in Bacchi 2009, p. xii and p.48). The latter offers this expansion of the presuppositions underpinning the instruction:

“Apply this list of questions to your own problem representations. This stage of the analysis requires a form of reflexivity, which involves subjecting the grounding assumptions in one’s own problem representations to critical scrutiny. (emphasis added)”

Bacchi 2009 appears in the reference list for Zheng and Hardy (2026) so these elaborations of the WPR framework were readily available.

Because researchers tend to ignore this undertaking to apply the WPR questions to their own problem representations (because it is not assigned a number in 2009?) my colleague, Susan Goodwin, and I made its status clear in the 2016 book, Poststructural Policy Analysis: A guide to practice (Bacchi and Goodwin 2016, p. 20). There (and again in the 2025 second edition, p. 24) the undertaking to apply the WPR questions to one’s own proposals is called “Step 7”. Finally, in my 2026 book, I change the word “Step” to “Process” to encourage continual application of the principle, which I call “self”-problematisation (see Bacchi and Goodwin 2025, pp. 42-26 and Bacchi 2026, Chapter 6). The importance of this undertaking as part of a WPR analytic strategy is, therefore, clearly endorsed in 2009, 2012 and 2016, well before publication of the Zheng and Hardy article (2026). 

Danson (Zheng) explicitly asks Copilot to produce six WPR questions and so, predictably, six questions are produced. It would have been interesting to ask Copilot if it could introduce the WPR framework without specifying 6 questions. I use this example to indicate a larger point – that AI is constrained to deliver within the boundaries set by researchers, who are fallible and who are also positioned in situations where they may offer a partial perspective. We are told “Copilot responded with consistent interpretations of the theoretical underpinnings as the way Danson understood the approach” (Zheng and Hardy 2026, p. 7). A first step in considering the usefulness of the analysis produced, therefore, must involve some assessment of Danson’s (Zheng’s) understanding of WPR. Serious questions need to be asked about how such an assessment could be produced. 

“Self”-problematisation and WPR

My critical intervention here is not simply to point out that an omission occurred in describing the analytical framework (WPR), e.g. leaving out Process 7 or “self”-problematisation, but to stress the centrality of “self”-problematisation to WPR and to possible collaborations with Copilot. Indeed, I will suggest that leaving out “self”-problematisation works at cross-purposes with the declared intent in Zheng and Hardy to uncover one’s deep-seated assumptions – which surely is the goal of “self”-problematisation. Hence, by omitting “self”-problematisation, the authors miss exactly what they are looking for. Let us take a closer look at this dynamic.

Zheng and Hardy (2026) are particularly concerned with Question 4 in WPR (see above and Bacchi 2026, p. 24). The authors explain that, before collaborating with Copilot, “Danson had conducted a preliminary human version of the chosen policy” (Zheng and Hardy 2026, p. 6; emphasis in original). Danson was concerned that he was being a “passive ‘follower’ of the policy as constituted” (p. 6). The authors note: “The fourth analytical question from the WPR approach, in particular, was proving challenging”:

“Consequently, to think beyond what was thinkable to him at the time, Danson thus became motivated to work with a non-human partner to ‘more deeply’ analyse the policy. Upon choosing the GenAI partner, Copilot, Danson conducted an exploratory post-qualitative collaborative policy analysis. (p. 6)”

The authors state clearly that “Question Four” in WPR motivated Danson to take on the collaboration. They specify in relation to Question 4:

“This is not an easy question, as it challenged Danson to think about what is silenced or unproblematic in the policy. By the time of the collaboration, Danson was uncertain about the analysis he had derived for this particular analytical question in his preliminary ‘human version’ of analysis with the WPR approach. (p. 7)”            

Danson conducts a kind of critical interrogation with Copilot, looking to better understand Queston 4. The authors produce the methodological steps taken by Danson in collaboration with Copilot to “reflect on how Copilot’s responses prompted Danson to think differently” and I refer you to page 8 of the article for details (we pursue the question of language and translation in the last section). The primary insight generated through this 

“richly collaborative intra-active series of analytical conversation challenged Dansen to reflect on how his thinking was strongly regulated by policy discourses within the Chinese policy context and to re-examine his ways of knowing and being in relation to language use and research engagement. (p. 8; emphasis added)”

You may recognise here stated goals that align with “self”-problematisation –  “subjecting the grounding assumptions in one’s own problem representations to critical scrutiny” (see above), which unfortunately disappears from the WPR framework in this account. 

Zheng and Hardy are certainly correct that Question 4 is challenging. In past publications I consider a range of research strategies for engaging this question. 

These include: 

• Working with comparative analysis
• Reading the critical literature 
• Exploring WPR as a group exercise (including cross-disciplinary contributions or “lay” “experience”). (Bacchi 2026, p. 22; Research Hub entry 29 Jan 2026)

The question prompted by Zheng and Hardy’s innovative approach, I suggest, is: could generative AI operate as one possible way of disrupting taken-for-granted “truths” and raising alternative problematisations? Could GenAI assist with Question 4? I see promise for this suggestion largely through the practice of translation. 

Copilot and translation

The publication of articles/chapters using WPR in languages other than English has consistently produced a stumbling block for me. There are some languages where, I believe, even the question – “What’s the problem represented to be?”- makes little sense. Clearly AI has tremendous translation skills that could assist with this situation.

Zheng and Harding provide an excellent example of the role played by translation in their interrogation of the selected Chinese education document. To understand how they proceed I need to supply some detail: 

“This first lightbulb moment also became possible due to the translation between two languages by Copilot. In this collaboration, Danson communicated with Copilot for collaborative policy analysis in English. As the policy is written in Mandarin Chinese, Copilot’s effective processing of the language patterns inevitably involved a translation process. This translation process by Copilot brought unexpected benefits through disassembling/disrupting the Chinese language patterns that Danson initially ‘took for granted’. (p. 8)”

I refer you to the article for additional explanation. The authors conclude that: “GenAI’s capability in deconstructing and reconstructing language patterns, then, disrupted the discursive relations and opened up the possibility for the human researcher, Danson in this study, to think differently” (p. 9).

The goal of “thinking differently” runs as a dominant theme in Zheng and Hardy. The article title highlights this focus: “Thinking the unthinkable: Generative AI for collaborative, intra-active policy analysis”. And thinking differently is certainly one objective of Question 4 in WPR. If GenAI prompts researchers to think differently, engaging with GenAI seems to be a worthwhile project. The example of translation indicates how this outcome can be achieved. 

Conclusion

Zheng and Hardy open up the question of “engagement” between human and non-human subjects (AI) in stimulating ways. They change the tone of most work on this topic where the major ethical concerns include: plagiarism, integrity, fabrication and misinformation (p. 2). Challenging the argument that qualitative research should be a distinct human practice, they support “a more ‘ethical’, intra-active way of engaging with GenAI by acknowledging both humans’ and GenAI’s capabilities”. 

With all this, I struggle to see how GenAI would engage with “self”-problematisation, a central premise in WPR and the grounds of its ethical commitment. It would be useful to test GenAI by asking it to perform a WPR analysis of a selected policy document once one had confirmed that GenAI accepts the full list of questions and modes of analysis endorsed in 2009, 2012, 2016 and more recently (Bacchi and Goodwin 2025, Bacchi 2026) – i.e. including “self”-problematisation. Specifically, it would open up this conversation to important new dimensions to see if a “reflexive” GenAI is feasible and what this could look like. I take the topic further in the next entry. 

References

Bacchi C. 2009. Analysing Policy: What’s the Problem Represented to Be? Pearson Education. 

Bacchi C. 2012. Introducing the ‘What’s the Problem Represented to be?’ approach. In: Bletsas A and Beasley C (eds) Engaging with Carol Bacchi: Strategic Interventions and Exchanges. The University of Adelaide Press, pp.21–24. 

Bacchi, C. 2026. What’s the Problem Represented to be? A new thinking paradigm. NY: Routledge. 

Bacchi, C. and Goodwin, S. 2016. Poststructural Policy Analysis: A Guide to Practice. Second edition 2025. NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Zheng, D. and Hardy, I. 2026. “Thinking the unthinkable: Generative AI for collaborative, intra-active policy analysis”. Methodological Innovations,

https://doi.org/10.1177/20597991261448572

In two preceding entries, I engage with arguments raised by Rönnblom and Edwards (2025) on uses of WPR. Specifically, they say: “The WPR approach does not include any normative suggestions for political change and avoids assumptions of intentionality.” I identify three topics that invite consideration: (1) WPR’s analytic position in relation “values” (see Research Hub entry 26 Feb 2026); (2) WPR’s analytic position in relation to reform strategies (see Research Hub 28 April 2026) and (3) WPR’s analytic position in relation to questions about “intentionality” in political analysis. Today I tackle the third of these topics – how WPR deals with questions of “intentionality”. 

This topic attracts a good deal of discussion and concern. There is concern that WPR discounts the role of policy “actors”, in the process denying their “agency”. Here the focus tends to be on recognising the important role played by policy makers, but also “special interest” groups and lobbyists. Relatedly, there is concern that WPR pays too much attention to “conceptual” issues (e.g. conceptual logics, representations, subjectification) and not enough attention to implementation – what happens at the “coalface” of politics. The argument, put simply, is that policy/political actors can (intentionally) affect how problem representations take effect through the implementation process. 

The WPR approach questions the way in which these issues get raised. There tends to be an understanding that relies on a sequence of occurrences (I would call it a “sequential rationality”). That is, the assumption seems to be that, first (in the sequence), there is a problem representation and, second (in the sequence), there are processes involving its introduction/implementation. WPR challenges this sequential understanding. It looks to create a way to understand these processes as interconnected/interlocked (I call it a “simultaneity rationality”). 

And so it is with political subjects/actors. The WPR approach studies subject formation rather than targeting actors as outside of these processes (of formation). It targets what the subject becomes rather than assuming a subject with an interior consciousness whose behaviours need to be tracked and whose “motives” (intentions) need to be considered. 

Note: I am not saying that these other questions are uninteresting or useless. I am trying to explain the particular contribution that WPR offers. 

Let us begin with the “subject”. To deal with this topic, I make reference to related theories that hopefully assist our understanding. To begin I discuss some key rethinking associated with the “subject” leading up to consideration of the notion of “intentionality”. 

Subject formation

I note above that the WPR approach studies subject formation rather than targeting actors as outside of these processes (of formation). 

The starting point here is a questioning of conventional ways of thinking about subjectivity. The modernist conception of the subject, articulated in Descartes and Kant, posits a timeless and universal “man” with an essential humanity shared by all human beings. This subject is often referred to as the “Enlightenment” subject, or the “humanist” subject. This subject is characterised as rational, autonomous, asocial and ahistorical (Bacchi 2026, p. 60). 

In a Foucault-influenced approach such as WPR, this characterisation of the subject (just given) is conceived as a historical artefact – it is only one possible way of thinking about “subjects”. It follows that “subjectivity” is not the “free and spontaneous expression of our interior truth” but rather “the way we are led to think about ourselves” (Mansfield 2000, p. 10). Therefore, says Foucault (1988, p. 15, emphasis added), we need to study how the “subject” has been produced: “We must descend to the study of the concrete practices through which the subject is constituted within a field of knowledge”. 

I have put the term “constituted” in italics to highlight how the language we use around this topic is critically important. Above I refer to “subject formation”. The term “constituted” captures the same dynamic – how something is formed as real rather than presuming its reality as a “starting point”. It follows that we can talk about “subject constitution” and the “constituted subject” alongside “subject formation”. 

The term “subjectification” – a prominent term in the WPR approach (Bacchi 2026, p. 61- 63) – is meant to capture these processes of “subject formation”. We can think of “subjectification” as how a person is turned into a particular kind of subject. There is an emphasis on the role of the knowledges that are generally accepted as important in any particular intellectual tradition. In Western culture, think of psychology for example, but also economics, sociology, behavioural science, etc. How we think about ourselves as subjects follows from these knowledges – consider, for example, the whole notion of the “unconscious” (Freud) or the notion of “rational actors” (Adam Smith, Gary Becker). These ways of constituting the subject are considered to be “forms of truth” rather than “truth”. Foucault (1994, p. 456) calls them “unexamined ways of thinking” that are “in the true” (accepted as “truth”) and the critical task involves examining them (Foucault 1981, p. 61). 

How do these knowledges produce a “subject” of a particular kind? Above we saw that Foucault (1988, p. 15; emphasis added) stresses the place of practices in subject constitution: “We must descend to the study of the concrete practicesthrough which the subject is constituted within a field of knowledge”. 

Practices in subject formation

Language poses challenges to attempts to capture the originality in Foucauldian-influenced theory. Many “commonsense” meanings of terms need to be rethought. For example, we probably all have a firm view of what a practice is – it is something we do (is it not?). The so-called “practice turn” in political theory, which can be traced back to the 1960s, happily goes down this path (see Postill 2010; Schatzki 2001). 

Consider by contrast Gherardi’s poststructural “take” on “practices”. She (2009: 118) makes a useful distinction between conceptualizing practices “from the outside”, which directs attention to how people (in context) “do” practices, and conceptualizing practices “from the inside”, which rests on a posthumanist analytic in which practices “do” (constitute) “subjects”. 

You will recognise the first position – how people “do” practices – as the conventional way we use the term. I would link this position to the “sequential rationality” introduced at the outset. In this account, there are subjects (first) who do things (second).

Opposed to this view, there are “practices” which produce “subjects” (from the inside; see above). Practices and subjects emerge together (see “simultaneity rationality” above). Subjects are formed through “practices” (see “subject formation”). 

We need an example to illustrate the novelty of this thinking. There is a long tradition of treating “men” and “women” as fixed biological categories. A Foucauldian-influenced approach to this topic emphasises the wide variety of “practices” that form and reinforce these categories. Think for example of the many times we tick a box on administrative forms signalling our “gender”. Through these practices, “genders” are formed. Hence those in this theoretical tradition talk about “gendering”: 

The term “gendering” adopts a verb form of the noun “gender” to capture the active, ongoing, and always incomplete processes that constitute (make come into existence) (Jones 1997, 265) “women” and “men” as specific kinds of unequal political subjects. (Bacchi 2017)

We can see in this example how “practices” produce “subjects” (simultaneously). We are constantly becoming “men” and “women”.

Subject formation in discourse

I hesitate to open the can of discourse worms at this point, but I hope it reinforces the line of thought on the “subject” that I have been developing. It also brings us back to the topic of intentionality (which I assure you I haven’t forgotten!). The argument in this section comes from a chapter I wrote specifically on the “issue of intentionality in frame theory” (Bacchi 2009). 

The argument developed in that chapter builds on a distinction I draw between two discourse traditions: the first I characterise as “discourse analysis” and the second as an “analysis of discourses”. To put it too briefly, I associate “discourse analysis” with Fairclough and a focus on language use, while the “analysis of discourses” refers to Foucault’s emphasis on discourses as knowledges (see above) (Bacchi 2026, Chapter 16). We are well familiar with the first use of “discourse”, but the latter is less often discussed. 

The importance of the distinction emerges when we consider whether “subjects” are “discourse users” or are “constituted in discourse”. I’m hoping you can see that understanding “subjects” as “discourse users” follows the tradition of discourse as language – so, “subjects” use language for political purposes (think of the “sequential rationality” I introduce above). By contrast, the argument that “subjects” are “constituted in discourse” (meaning knowledge) sees “subjects” and discourse as simultaneous “products”. Foucault (1968 in Burchell et al. 1991, p. 58; emphasis added) makes this distinction clear:

… there are not on the one hand inert discourses, which are already half dead, and on the other hand, an all-powerful subject which manipulates them, overturns them, renews them; but that discoursing subjects form a part of the discursive field. 

This wonderful notion of “discoursing subjects” captures nicely the simultaneity of “processes” I have been trying to enunciate (a “simultaneity rationality”). 

In Foucault-influenced accounts, “discourses” are well-bounded areas of “knowledge” that influence what can be thought and, hence, what can be said. These “broad historical systems of meaning” constitute what Graham Burchell describes as “the contours of the ‘goldfish bowl’ we inhabit” (Burchell 1993, p. 277 in Shore and Wright 1997, p. 17). For Foucault, then, the goal of social analysis extends beyond analysing talk and conversation (“discourse analysis”); rather, the task becomes identifying and explaining the a priori of talk, the “concepts, objects, strategies and subject positions that organize statements prior to individual reception” (Blackman 2001, p. 84). 

To put it in other words, Foucault’s primary interest is in “the limits and forms of the sayable”, what it is possible to speak of. And, as he explicitly explains, he tries to do this without “referring to the consciousness, obscure or explicit, of speaking subjects” (Foucault 1968 in Burchell et al 1991, p. 59). WPR follows Foucault to focus on what is sayable rather than on (intentional) language use.

Ethnography and intentionality

I mentioned at the outset that there are many expressed concerns about the Foucauldian “subject”. Many of these concerns come from those writing in the ethnographic tradition. The emphasis in ethnographic accounts is on the need to consider the “agency” of policy actors and their involvement in interpretation, contestation and resistance (Rodin 2017, p. 20) According to the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Schlosser 2015), in “standard” ethnographic theory, “agency” is usually taken to refer to the exercise of the capacity of individuals to perform intentional actions. Hence, the concept includes a “mental element” and is linked to an interior consciousness. 

I hope it is clear that this ethnographic conceptualisation of “the subject” sits in sharp contrast to the constituted “subject” of Foucauldian-influenced accounts. As an example, Ian Parker (1990, p. 195-196) describes discourses as “sets of meanings which constitute objects”. He states that “once we start to describe what texts mean, we are elaborating discourses that go beyond individual intentions” (emphasis added). 

We have reached the crux of our “dilemma”. Just how is it possible, or is it possible, for these two divergent views of the “subject” to be reconciled? And what does the answer to this question mean for the usefulness of a WPR form of analysis. Will we continue to see researchers “pulling” for one side or the other – agency versus constituted subjects? 

Mitchell Dean (2015, p. 265) provides some much-need guidance on this issue. As he explains, what are needed are studies that “connect how people govern themselves to how they are governed in a broader institutional set of arrangements” – “how techniques of the self interact with techniques of governing”. This suggestion to look at “connection” and “interaction” fits well the “simultaneity rationality” I endorse earlier. 

Let us look at a couple of examples illustrating this “simultaneity” dynamic. In her study of feminist politics and neo-liberalism Roy (2023) draws on an ethnography of rural development workers in eastern India to question the “dichotomous understanding of feminists as either co-opted or resistant”. She enlists the Foucauldian concept of “counter-conduct” to offer a way to understand how “subjects” can be formed in power while able to refuse certain ways of being in the world.

Along related lines, Wartmann (2024, p. 903) illustrates the Foucauldian premise that “modern power engenders disciplinary practices” in her study of the radical equality reforms in the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria. She illustrates that these reforms impose “another set of expected standards of femininity” (p. 918), policing women’s bodies. At the same time, as she explains, 

the discourse about women’s rights and gender equality is by no means static. It is continuously constructed and reconstructed, exhibiting multiple surfaces and meanings, thus offering spaces and opportunities for women to contribute to the creation of new subjectivities. 

These examples illustrate how it is possible to direct one’s attention to the practices that form “subjects” (see “subject formation” above) while acknowledging the space available for challenge and change – “how techniques of the self interactwith techniques of governing” (Dean 2015, p. 265; emphasis added).

A word on implementation

The direction of the argument on “implementation” should be clear from this entry. The suggestion that policy actors alter or translate problem representations in the process of implementation pays insufficient attention to the subjectification processes at work in this account. As mentioned at the outset, there appears to be a sequential form of thinking in this position – first, policy development, and second, policy implementation. WPR questions this bifurcation and emphasises the “cross overs”, the intersections, the simultaneity of these processes. 

Freedom from intentionality

In a recent chapter on “thinking with WPR”, Rönnblom expresses her appreciation for being liberated from the intentionality that is central to many kinds of policy analysis. She describes the relief WPR offers in getting “rid of intentionality”: 

Because in traditional policy analysis, you kind of look for, you know, the intentions. And coming from another epistemology and ontology, that never made sense for me. Using the WPR approach you can actually analyse something, a policy or an interview, without thinking about intentions. 

This Research Hub entry provides the backdrop to understanding how WPR liberates researchers from a preoccupation with “intentions”. At the same time, doubtless, there remain questions about the role played by specific social actors in influencing policy directions and in manipulating legal processes. Recent Research Hub contributions on authoritarian governmentality and imposed constraints on research directions (28 Sept. 2025; 29 Oct. 2025) indicate the importance of tracking these developments. 

References

Bacchi, C. 2009. The issue of intentionality in frame theory: The need for reflexive framing. In IN: E. Lombardo, P. Meier and M. Verloo (eds) The Discursive Politics of Gender Equality: Stretching, bending and policymaking. NY: Routledge.

Bacchi, C. (2017) Policies as Gendering Practices: Re-Viewing Categorical Distinctions, Journal of Women, Politics & Policy, 38:1, 20-41, DOI: 10.1080/1554477X.2016.1198207 

Bacchi, C. 2026. What’s the Problem Represented to be? A new thinking paradigm. NY: Routledge.

Blackman, L. (2001) Hearing voices: embodiment and experience, London: Free Association Books.

Burchell, G. (1993) ‘Liberal government and techniques of the self’, Economy and Society, 22(3): 267-82.

Burchell, G., Gordon, C. and Miller, P. (eds) (1991) The foucault effect: studies in governmentality, Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Dean, M 2015, ‘Neoliberalism, governmentality, ethnography: a response to Michelle Brady’, Foucault Studies, no. 20, pp. 356–366. DOI:10.22439/fs.v0i0.4954. 

Foucault, M. (1968) ‘Politics and the study of discourse’, Esprit, 371: 850-74 in G. Burchell, C. Gordon and P. Miller (eds) (1991) The Foucault effect: studies in governmentality, Chicago: University of Chicago Press. pp. 53- 72.

Foucault, M 1981, ‘The order of discourse’, in R Young (ed), Untying the text: a post- 

structuralist reader, Routledge and Kegan Paul, Boston, pp. 48–78.

Foucault, M 1988, ‘(Auto)biography Michel Foucault 1926–1984’, History of the Present, no. 4, pp. 13–15.

Foucault, M 1994, ‘So is it important to think?’, in JD Faubion (ed), Power: Essential works of Foucault 1954–1984, vol. 3, trans. R Hurley et al., Penguin, London, pp. 454–458.  

Gherardi, S. (2009). Introduction: The critical power of the “practice lens”. Management Learning, 40(2), 115–128. 10.1177/1350507608101225 

Jones, Alison. 1997. “Teaching Post-structuralist Feminist Theory in Education: Student Resistances.” Gender and Education 9 (3): 261–69. 

Mansfeld, N 2000, Subjectivity: theories of the self from Freud to Haraway, New York University Press, New York. 

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TITLE: WPR: thinking critically about reform options

In a recent Research Hub entry (26 Feb 2026), I mention the work of Rönnblom and Edwards (2025) on uses of WPR. I identify three interrelated topics under consideration in their work: (1) positions on “values”; (2) positions on political reform strategies; (3) positions on the place of intentionality in political analysis. In that entry I discussed the first of these topics, reflecting on the relationship between WPR and normativity. Today I take up the second topic and ask specifically: if WPR refuses to endorse specific reform proposals, is it of any use to those who have a reform agenda? 

To begin, I feel the need to provide a review of the point and purpose of a WPR analysis. The hope is that such a review proves useful both to those engaging with the approach for the first time and to those who have worked in the field previously. 

Just what is WPR intended to do? 

What kind of analysis is WPR intended to undertake? From 2009 (Bacchi 2009) I have described WPR as a critical approach to governing practices, writ large. That is, the approach asks how governing takes place and whether we ought to have any concerns about how governing takes place. 

I think of this as a two-stage project. First, it is important to recognise that, for WPR, governing extends beyond conventional political institutions. So, we are not talking about “government” in the usual sense of legislators and policies. Rather, the interest in governing includes a broad sweep of the many influences shaping our lives. Consider, for example, the impact of professional disciplines such as psychology and economics, the impact of schools and universities, the impact of corporate institutions and advertising practices, etc., etc. This is all “governing” (see “governmentality” in Bacchi 2026, Chapter 7) and is open to WPR scrutiny.

Stage 2 involves broadening our conception of “influence”. WPR is not solely concerned with top-down interventions such as university enrolment practices or psychological guidelines (DSM-5). Rather, it considers how the full range of “influences” represent the “problems” they purport to address. We start asking about how “issues” are problematised due to the conviction that problematisations play a significant role in how we are governed. The focus here becomes “problem representations” and how they influence lives and worlds. Consider this position as embracing a more subtle and simultaneously more comprehensive understanding of governing processes. 

So, you can see that the terrain opened up by WPR is vast – we look at the wide range of influences shaping lives and worlds, including how governing practices impose meanings on those lives and worlds. 

The starting point in WPR thinking, therefore, is that we need to think critically about this vast terrain of governing practices. Its goal is to help us consider at some depth aspects of governing practices that may need rethinking (re-problematisation, reconceptualization, re-development). The goal therefore is reform. But importantly, the task is not to develop specific reforms but to raise critical questions about directions in reform. WPR helps us to think critically about reform options. 

Critics of WPR

It is here that critics express qualms about the WPR approach. These qualms take several forms.

At one level the reaction to a WPR approach reflects disagreements about the nature of critique. There are wide-ranging disputes about how change occurs. Specifically, an argument has developed that contrasts what are called “affirmative” approaches to reform to “negative” approaches (with WPR clustered within the second of these). 

In a well-known article, Bruno Latour (2004) targets for criticism a particular style of critique, which he describes as a purely deconstructive and hence “negative” form of criticism. In his view, rather than (simply) deconstructing or “debunking”, researchers need to be involved in assembling – i.e., in bringing together collective “concerns” in a “Parliament of Things” (Latour 1993, pp. 144–145):

“The critic is not the one who debunks, but the one who assembles. The critic is not the one who lifts the rugs from under the feet of the naïve believers, but the one who offers the participants arenas in which to gather. (Latour 2004, p. 246)”. 

This typecasting of styles of critique took hold such that critique came to be discussed through an inflexible duality – “assembling” versus “debunking”, “affirming” versus “negating”, “crafting commonality or enacting disparity” (Munk & Abrahamsson 2012, p. 54; see also Lorenzini & Tazzioli 2020). In Bacchi 2026 I spend some time (Chapter 13) considering the nature of this disagreement and providing a response (see next section)

Qualms about WPR’s reform possibilities often reflect contrasting theoretical commitments. Those with an interpretive focus on policy actors and the “coalface” of policy-making find poststructural approaches limiting. They wish instead to stress the important place of “solution construction”. For example, according to Savage et al. (2021, p. 308) “scholarship that draws on poststructuralist philosophy and theory” often foregrounds “the benefits of critique and forms of problematisation but in lieu of articulating explicit solutions or visions for change”. These scholars tend to be concerned with the danger of what is called “endless regress” (see previous entry 26 Feb 2026). They stress that “at the end of the day all policy makers must do something” (Savage 2018, p. 317; see Research Hub entries 30 Dec 2021, 30 Jan 2022, 30 March 2022).

These arguments need to be taken seriously. Why should policymakers be interested in WPR, if it doesn’t provide specific directives for policy change? 

Reply to critics

Put simply, there is a need to challenge the dichotomous characterisation of reform approaches (i.e. “affirmative” versus “negative”). WPR targets the spaces betweenthese two positions. It may not provide specific directives, but it does assist in encouraging creative thinking around reform options. 

The hesitancy to endorse specific reforms stems from the concern that those reforms may inadvertently buy into established ways of thinking that need questioning. That is, there is a concern that researchers are necessarily implicated in widely accepted and unexamined ways of thinking – that they may well accept premises that ought to be questioned (Bacchi and Goodwin 2025, p. 22). As Teghtsoonian (2016, p. 341) describes, the reluctance to advance “solutions” is tied to the poststructural stance that “‘liberatory’ or ‘emancipatory’ impulses” may well be “implicated in the constitution of governing practices”. 

This argument underpins the need for “self”-problematisation (see Process 7 in Table, Bacchi 2026 p. 22) in which researchers apply the WPR questions to their own proposals or “proposed solutions”. Bringing attention to governmental problematisations, which I see as the task of a WPR analysis, can assist policy workers and researchers to question the parameters within which their work is cast. I consider this encouragement to policy workers and researchers to engage critically with the problematizations in policies and in their own proposals as a positive research contribution. Applying the WPR questions in these ways, I suggest, makes it easier to recognize the full range of issues that need to be included in any “reform” design. They also alert researchers and policy workers to facets of the issues that may well have escaped their/our attention. 

While poststructuralist analysis, therefore, does not put forward a blueprint for political change, which people are directed to adopt, it opens a space to think differently and creatively about the relations and rules through which governing takes place. I provide a few examples to illustrate the benefits of this new way of thinking. 

Reform options: examples

In my 1999 book I include a chapter that examines contrasting proposals aimed at achieving pay equity for women (Bacchi 1999, Chapter 4). I distinguish among several ways of “framing” the “problem” of pay inequity: equal pay for equal work, equal pay for work of equal value (otherwise known as “comparable worth”) and wage solidarity. In “equal pay for equal work” the target of critique is employer discrimination. In comparable worth approaches, the “problem” is represented to be the wage gap between women’s and men’s wages due to women’s location in specific undervalued jobs (e.g., the “caring” professions). In wage solidarity, the proposal to raise women’s wages by raising wages across the board creates the “problem” as worker exploitation.

The chapter on pay equity does not end up recommending one of these options in all cases. That is, if a policy worker were looking for endorsement of a singular policy framework, they would not find it in Women, Policy and Politics. Rather, I show how creative reworking can assist in responding to particular situations or contexts. Using Burton et al.’s (1987, pp. 90-94) pay equity intervention, I show how they reframed the “problem” to problematise job hierarchy. As they describe, “working through and down the hierarchy” tends to be valued over working “laterally and up”. Thinking in terms of problematisations serves, therefore, to broaden the parameters of what ought to be considered relevant to a specific area of reform (“pay equity”). 

In a different space, Razack calls for some creative re-thinking of the Canadian immigration and refugee guidelines on gender-related persecution. She is concerned about some of the effects that flow from the way in which the “problem” tends to be represented. She notes (1995, pp. 46, 49), for example, that refugee hearings are always “profoundly racialized” events in which the “outwardly compassionate process of granting asylum” creates “First World countries as benefactors”, while the people of the Third World are created as “supplicants asking to be relieved of the disorder of their world and to be admitted to the rational calm of ours”. This representation of the “problem” ignores and belies the role of the First World in creating, through economic exploitation, the circumstances of the distress suffered by refugees.

Now, importantly, Razack does not argue that feminist reformers ought to stop using “gender persecution” to advance the cause of women refugees. But she does want feminist reformers to “explore ways in which we might talk about women and the violence they experience” that acknowledge the operation of power relations between First and Third Worlds. She suggests that a way forward here is to produce gender persecution legislation “as one element of a multi-pronged strategy in which the goal would be to change social structures that propel men to be violent and condone their excesses” (Razack 1995, p. 71). Razack’s proposition does not constitute a prescribed reform program, but it highlights central aspects of the reform program that need rethinking and modification. WPR, I suggest, provides assistance in thinking through precisely what this task entails. 

I find many suggestions similar to Razack’s in recent WPR applications (see Select Reference List on  Welcome to the WPR Network! | Karlstad University (kau.se). Researchers in the main are keenly aware that their analysis leads to the possibility of creative interventions that can help reshape problem representations that are found to have deleterious effects – subjectification, objectification, discursive and lived (Question 5, Bacchi 2026, p. 24). 

For example, Nieminen et al. (2026) adopt Poststructural Interview Analysis (PIA), a “sister strategy” to WPR (Bacchi and Bonham 2025, Chapter 8), to reflect on the subjectification effects of teacher placements in Australia. Their task, as they describe it, is to “help unpack why disabilities remain marginalised in teacher education”. They emphasise the complex identity work that the students take part in. In placements, they argue, “students become known as future professionals in relation to particular ‘able’ ideals of teachers as someone spatially fit and rational”. 

Importantly, Nieminen et al. (2026) state upfront that their research is concerned with a pressing question: 

“How to make placements more inclusive, then? This is the question future research must address, and we hope the stories we have reported could inspire such work”. (p. 21). They offer specific insights into possible ways forward: 

“Locating teacher identity formation and potential mechanisms of ableism within the practices of teacher education allows for alternative interventions to occur. If placements organise the subject formation of students, then the question is, how to reassemble the practices of placements in ways that enable other ways of being, knowing and doing?” 

That is, by acknowledging the important role of subject formation, it becomes possible to consider innovative interventions. The deconstructive theory and analysis prepare the ground for “affirmative” modes of “becoming”.

In an article on the topical issue of how University policies regulate generative AI, Driessens and Pischetola (2024) apply WPR to current policies in Denmark. They show the potential for Question 4 on silencing practices (Bacchi 2026, p. 22) to alert policymakers to aspects of AI practices that ought to be included in any policy reform. Specifically, they raise questions about the impact of generative AI in terms of labour and energy use, topics that are currently under-analysed. The authors argue that 

“Universities should integrate these considerations into both their decision-making on (not) using certain technologies and their policies and guidelines for research and teaching, just as sustainability is already a criterion in their travel or investment policies today.” (Abstract) 

Again, an analysis of problematisations produces useful and provocative insights into reform options.

On a closely related topic, Luo (2024) analysed the GenAI policies of 20 world-leading universities to explore “what are considered problems in this AI-mediated assessment landscape and how these problems are represented in policies” (Abstract). She identifies as the primary problem representation that GenAI undermines the originality of student work. As Luo points out, this problematisation highlights the need to consider what is meant by “originality” “in a time when knowledge production becomes increasingly distributed, collaborative and mediated by technology” (Abstract). To this end she calls for “a more inclusive approach to address the originality of students’ work”: “Moving forward, higher education policies can reframe originality from a collaborative perspective and situate it along a continuous spectrum” (P. 12).

 Luo’s exploration of problematisations in the “problem space” of GenAI leads to suggestions for changes in thinking and practice:

“Understanding the problem representation in university GenAI policies is crucial to underpin further moves at a practical level. This study evokes critical reflection on what makes a student’s work original in the presence of AI, prompting higher education policymakers and practitioners to review, rethink and revise current policy discourses around GenAI use and work originality. One recommended approach is to organize consultation meetings, seminars and debates to further challenge and deepen the concept of originality rather than seeing it as enshrined in the policies. Partnering with students in these consultations to understand how they approach GenAI and understand work originality will be desirable.” (p. 12)

We return now to our guiding question for this entry: can WPR assist in policy design? The examples I offer (Bacchi, Razack, Nieminen et al., Driessens and Pischetola, Luo)  – and there are many other examples in the Select Reference List ( Welcome to the WPR Network! | Karlstad University (kau.se)  – illustrate how WPR serves to broaden the parameters of what ought to be considered relevant to a specific area of reform. It highlights the need to examine how “problems” are conceptualised, including interrogation of our own premises. It sharpens an awareness of the effects of the frameworks we adopt and encourages us to find proposals that “diminish effects we want to discourage” (Bacchi 1999, p. 90). Importantly, the question of what ought to be discouraged remains an open question – one that needs to be on the table – not one that is assumed beforehand. Such critical reflections “sow the seeds of judgement” (Osborne 1998 in Rose 2000, p. 59), helping to make judgement possible. 

CONCLUSION

It is disturbing to see the forms of analysis offered by WPR and other poststructural projects misrepresented. For example, according to Hoppe (2025, emphasis added), “the critical perspective” in WPR leads to the conclusion that “any governmental-oriented effort at reform should be rejected as a rhetorical performance of government and as part of government and political reason”. 

I hope this Research Hub entry clarifies that WPR is not about acceptance or rejection of efforts at reform. Rather, it provides a tool to ensure that such efforts do not inadvertently reinforce marginalisation and exploitation. The concern is not with rhetoric (as per Hoppe’s characterisation). Rather, the analysis probes the deep-seated epistemological and ontological presuppositions in policy proposals. Hoppe’s reference to “political reason” should be understood as “political rationalities”, which invite analysis of specific political rationales to identify lacunae and political implications (Bacchi and Goodwin 2025, pp. 48-50).  

The underlying goal in a WPR analysis is to encourage a questioning attitude and a “self”-questioning attitude. Such an approach makes it possible to promote positive interventions that reshape problem representations found to be limited and at times harmful. It is an essential component of any reform toolkit. 

References

Bacchi, C.1999. Women, Policy and Politics: The Construction of Policy Problems. London: Sage.

Bacchi, C. 2009. Analysing Policy: What’s the Problem Represented to be? Frenchs Forest: Pearson Education.

Bacchi, C. 2026. What’s the Problem Represented to be? A new thinking paradigm. NY: Routledge.

Bacchi, C. and Goodwin, S. 2025. Poststructural Policy Analysis: A Guide to Practice. Second edition. NY: Palgrave Macmillan.

Burton, C., with Hag, R. and Thompson, G. 1987. Women’s Worth: Pay Equity and Job Evaluation in Australia. Canberra: Australian Government Publishing Service. 

Driessens, O. and Pischetola, M. 2024. Danish university policies on generative AI:Problems, assumptions and sustainability blind spots. MedieKultur: Journal of media and communication research.  Vol 40, no. 76. 

Hoppe, R. 2025. Problems and Problematization in Public Policy. In Encyclopedia of Public Policy, DOI. 10.1007/978-3-030-90434-0_106-1

Latour, B 1993, We have never been modern, trans. C Porter, Harvard University Press, Cambridge, MA.

Latour, B 2004, ‘Why has critique run out of steam? From matters of fact to matters of concern’, Critical Inquiry, vol. 30, no. 2, pp. 225–248.

Lorenzini, D & Tazzioli, M 2020, ‘Critique without ontology: genealogy, collective subjects and the deadlocks of evidence’, Radical Philosophy, no. 2.07, pp. 27–39.

Luo, J 2024, “A critical review of GenAI policies in higher education assessment: a call to reconsider the ‘originality of students’ work “, Assessment & Evaluation in Higher Education, DOI: 10.1080/02602938.2024.2309963 

Munk, AK & Abrahamsson, S 2012, ‘Empiricist interventions: strategy and tactics on the ontopolitical battlefield’, Science & Technology Studies, vol. 25, no. 1, pp. 52–70, DOI:10.23987/sts.55281.

Nieminen, J. H., Dollinger, M. and Finneran, R. 2026. Becoming a disabled teacher: teacher placements as sites for identify formation. The Australian Educational Researcher, 53:22, https://doi.org/10.1007/s13384-025-00949-8

Osborne, T. 1998. Aspects of Enlightenment: Social Theory and the Ethics of Truth. London: UCL Press. 

Razack, S. 1995. Domestic Violence as Gender Persecution: Policing the Borders of Nation, Race and Gender. Canadian Journal of Women and the Law, 8: 45-88.

Rose, N. 2000. Powers of Freedom: Reframing political thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. 

Rönnblom, M. & Edwards, R. (04 Sep 2025): A critical explanation of uses of Carol Bacchi’s WPR approach, Critical Policy Studies, DOI: 10.1080/19460171.2025.2555388 

Savage, G. C. 2018. Policy assemblages and human devices: a reflection on “Assembling Policy”. Discourse: Studies in the Cultural Politics of Education, 39(2): 309-321.

Savage, G. C., Gerrard, J., Gale, T. and Molla, T.  2021. The evolving state of policy sociology: mobilities, moorings and elite networks. Critical Studies in Education, 62(3): 306-321. 

Teghtsoonian, K. 2016. Methods, discourse, activism: comparing institutional ethnography and governmentality. Critical Policy Studies, 10:3, 330-347, DOI: 10.1080/19460171.2015.1050426