I find myself once again won­der­ing about col­lab­o­ra­tion and progress, about the ful­fill­ment that comes of see­ing one’s ideas explored, and the con­flict that estab­lishes with a cul­ture ruled by attri­bu­tion and credit.

To some extent, a great idea is merely the germ of great work. Ideas are sim­ple, and bet­ter ideas so sim­ple that oth­ers can under­stand them more eas­ily. Work is by com­par­i­son hard, but great work tends more often to require more hands and resources to com­plete correctly.

In the Acad­emy, we write, we pro­gram, we ana­lyze, we exper­i­ment, we explore—all essen­tially alone, because we are in the end graded and hired, passed and tenured, on the basis of our work alone, its quan­tity and qual­ity. And yet we dis­cuss, cor­re­spond, present, riff, teach; we wave unfin­ished work at our social network’s neigh­bors, selec­tively invit­ing them to play a role, if they have time and cycles to spare.

But we typ­i­cally never share the ideas we can­not hope to fol­low up on. Ideas are cheap, so easy to acquire that we all have piles as we mature. Where do the unpur­sued end up? How does one choose one, and not another, with­out a cer­tainty of its even­tual risks and rewards?

So. Con­sider the many fields of the Academy.

In whats field are prac­ti­tion­ers most likely to talk openly with oth­ers about unfin­ished work, and invite oth­ers to take the super­nu­mer­ary projects and pur­sue them? In what fields are the cards held clos­est to the chest, and the papers and pro­nounce­ments made by secret iso­lated scrib­blers or mutually-​​nondisclosed cabals?

Who shares most, in other words? Who least?

Does it break down by depart­ment? Insti­tu­tion? Role? The matu­rity of a field? The nature of the work? The cul­ture of a community?