Oxford University Press's
Academic Insights for the Thinking World
African American history does not begin with the founding of the United States—its roots stretch centuries deep. Black experiences, intellectual traditions, resistance, and cultural innovation have shaped the story of America.
I’ve been reading S. Jay Keyser’s fascinating book Play It Again Sam, which (despite its waggish title) is a serious and insightful study of the role of repetition in the verbal, musical, and visual arts.
Book reviews, like books themselves, come in all shapes and sizes. There are the sometimes inflated rah-rahs on Amazon or Goodreads, or short reviews in Kirkus, Publisher’s Weekly, and Choice.
The purpose of any abstract is to summarise your article’s content in a way that will help potential readers decide if they want to read your work. An abstract usually runs between 150 and 300 words and will likely be your readers’ first interaction with your research article, so you must write it with that in mind.
When I read slowly, I’m a somewhat easily distracted reader. I might ponder an idea, puzzle at a phrasing, or admire elegance and style. Sometimes, though, it is unexpected words that cause me to stop and wonder about their origins.
Walter Benjamin, the intellectual hero of the 1968 generation and one of the most influential figures in German cultural and media studies, is still regarded as the quintessential melancholic. Yet his work is interwoven with reflections on humour and the political opportunities it offers.
What’s really happening with those microbes inside us? Are we really superorganisms or is it all hype? Dr Berenice Langdon reveals the truth about the Microbiome.
In 1952, Justice Robert Jackson issued a concurring opinion in the case of Youngstown Sheet & Tube Co. v. Sawyer, in which a majority of the Supreme Court held that President Harry Truman could not invoke executive power to seize several of the major U.S. steel manufacturing companies. Jackson’s opinion in Youngstown sketched a framework for executive power under the Constitution, identifying three examples of executive decisions against the backdrop of congressional authority.
The word good does a lot of work in English. Aside from its garden-variety sense (as in “good game” or “good job” or “good dog”), we find the word has a number of extended uses.
As someone who has spent decades studying the evolution of nuclear energy, I’ve seen its emergence as a promising transformative technology, its stagnation as a consequence of dramatic accidents and its current re-emergence as a potential solution to the challenges of global warming.
With the semester well underway, your college student is probably juggling a lot—classes, homework, exams, and writing assignments—all while managing friendships, jobs, and other responsibilities. This balancing act can be tough for any young adult, but it’s often especially challenging for students with ADHD.
This year’s Open Access Week poses the question: “How, in a time of disruption, can communities reassert control over the knowledge they produce?” Here at OUP, we were inspired to delve into our open access publishing for examples of research that doesn’t just study communities, but actively involves them.
When I studied comparative politics as an undergraduate in the 1990s, I was introduced to the field through static comparisons between national political systems. Each chapter in the textbook we read described a different country, and we learned about constitutions, legislatures, and parties as if they were fixed features of political life.
Listen to Bernard Herrmann’s eight scores for the films of Alfred Hitchcock. You’ll hear, in music, a mirror of how the duo’s personal relationship evolved, from its joyous start in late 1954 to its bitter end in 1966.
Google Gemini offers “a new way to bring your imagination to life.” Adobe Firefly promises “The ultimate creative AI solution.” And Craiyon invites you to “Create AI Art.” Don’t believe the tech hype.
For academics, stepping into the world of scholarly conferences for the first time can feel like crossing the Rubicon. After months (or sometimes years) of what is often a solitary research journey, scholars enter a dynamic ecosystem where subfields collide and converge, and colleagues at every career stage rub shoulders in line for coffee and conversation.