‘What should we do?’ Analyzing the question in the context of hybrid warfare

In a world that social sciences and humanities understand as nuanced, multi-faceted, and filled with competing realities, it is difficult to generate timely actions that tangibly impact society. Tensions between the micro and macro levels of social science research, and challenges associated with transferability of findings add to the slowness of the action. Meanwhile, the real world demands bold, immediate solutions. So, academics begin to ask big questions, challenging the very foundational concepts upon which our familiar political systems and institutions rest. The world, it seems, needs to be reimagined - we've been getting it wrong, and perhaps we've never truly gotten it right. That realization is both unsettling and inspiring. It motivates, but it can also paralyze. And before we completely give in to despair, we ask each other, understandably and anxiously nodding: yes, exactly, but what should we do? 

As a first-year PhD student I am learning to break down my five-year journey into small tasks, finding my limits so as to not set hyper-ambitious goals. Adhering to that same logic, and with the limited competence I have, I will try to break down the “what should we do” question and present some of my ponderings as a thinking exercise to everyone who will find it interesting to engage. 

First, I want to consider the context into which this question is born, the reality, which has become, it seems, increasingly fragmented. My perspective is informed by my research in media and communication, with a focus on disinformation, as well as my current location in Sweden. 

There is overwhelming evidence that information influence campaigns have had tangible effects on numerous election outcomes around the world. The individuals conducting these operations are often not highly trained military intelligence officers, but rather marketing experts and social media managers - people with the same skills as those who design yogurt campaigns. The Kremlin has transformed its business sector, scientific innovations, and communication tools into components of its military apparatus, creating dark replicas of institutions that might otherwise bring enlightenment and prosperity. This is not just physical warfare; it is also psychological and informational, expanding the battlefield from Ukraine and Russia’s own territories to the West and beyond. I am not referring to “war” as a Concept Metaphor in the Lakoffian sense, nor can I refer to it strictly in legal terms, as current international law does not yet recognize hybrid warfare as an actual war . Still, I believe it is fair to situate this question within a reality where a militarized state – Russia - is actively producing war efforts that target us. Us, as citizens and residents of Western democracies; us, as critical scholars; us, as adherents of deliberative democracy. 

At the opening of the annual defense conference in Sälen, Swedish Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson remarked that Sweden is not at war, but it is not at peace either . Perhaps it would be easier to respond appropriately to the “what should we do” question, if we recognized that we are not living in peace times. Maybe the first thing we need to reimagine is how we, as scholars, operate in these hybrid-war- or “not-peace” - times. Like any crisis, war forces us to rethink our roles and responsibilities, to set new priorities, and to seek allies. 

Now that I’ve outlined the context, I can turn to the ‘what’ of the question: What is it that I do?

I’ll begin by acknowledging my limitations - what I do not do. My research on disinformation does challenge the existing concepts of the state or journalism as its starting point. Instead, I take a bottom-up approach, focusing on micro-level social interactions and events in an effort to piece together the broader phenomenon. In not-peace times, it is easy to become fascinated by the big questions, but as an early-career scholar, I recognize that I need to build my way to the mountain top from which the big picture can unfold. I also draw a boundary between scholarship and activism. As necessary as activism is in times like these, I believe scholars, by definition, always question first, act second, and then question again. Scholars cannot act as fast as activists, and that’s okay. We can still be driven by values and slowly but steadily keep producing knowledge that will help the cause we are supporting. We can also critically assess the cause we are supporting, and that’s the whole point of being a scholar - that existential anguish, uncertainty, and doubt will always be our friendly companions, in both peace and not-peace times.

Lastly, let us turn to the question of ‘who’. Who is the we in “what should we do?” And does this we imply the existence of a ‘they’?

In times of not-peace, I look for the environment that is more supportive than challenging - workspace that pushes me to produce high-quality research, yet prioritizes my mental well-being. As scholars navigating the realities of hybrid warfare, we must acknowledge the efforts of psychological influence and not underestimate their impact - especially in countries where academic institutions have already become explicit targets. For me, not-peace also means actively seeking allies- both immediate collaborators for urgent issues and broader networks where I can contribute meaningfully. Cultivating a collective ‘we’ is vital to sustaining a spirit of resistance in difficult times. Having a small circle of trusted peers with whom to face the frontlines, while also feeling connected to a larger, purposeful collective, can be both grounding and empowering. 

It is only reasonable to consider the ‘they’ in not-peace times. They are the nation-states that wage hybrid wars. They are the actors who exploit the vulnerabilities of deliberative democracies in order to undermine them. Other times ‘they’ can be someone who seeks to exploit scientific collaboration, and creates a tangible threat to research security . Sometimes, the line between ‘we’ and ‘they’ is a little blurry - but part of wartime logic is to make that line as fine as possible. Military language is intuitive and easy to grasp- far more so than the often slow and exploratory nature of academic inquiry. ‘They’ speak in that language, and in doing so, connect with the public. We, too, must find new ways to connect - perhaps by translating our research into accessible blog posts, short narratives, podcasts, or stories told in plain language.

I realize that many of these reflections might sound more like strategies for self-preservation than forms of direct engagement. Some may even apply just as much to times of peace as to not-peace. Still, I chose to share these thoughts because I see many early-career scholars entering this world of complexities, often overwhelmed by the magnitude of the problems they are expected to address. Contextualizing questions about one’s scientific contributions and scholarly roles within the broader frame of hybrid warfare can serve as a helpful thinking exercise - one that may assist those of us who feel overwhelmed at the start of our careers in strategizing their way forward. Setting clear boundaries - while also recognizing the urgency of the moment - is not an act of retreat. It is a form of care that enables sustained action. And collective action, undertaken by many of us who share a common sense of purpose, may be what helps steer the world to an orbit of reason.