Good teaching shouldn’t feel rare at a place like Yale — but too often, it does. In a university that prides itself on academic excellence, pedagogical excellence sometimes feels like an afterthought. This piece isn’t about praising one professor for the sake of it. It’s about highlighting a model of teaching that more faculty should take seriously because students feel the difference.
I’m currently taking my second class with Professor Robert Malley, “New Wars, New Peace,” and I’ve often found myself thinking about what makes his teaching so effective and how much other professors could learn from his approach. I first met Malley in his inaugural “Contending with Israel-Palestine” course in the spring of 2024. As someone who was skeptical of such a course for a number of reasons, my expectations — and likely those of many of my peers — were so far exceeded that I went on to take three more political and Middle Eastern-focused classes, despite majoring in computer science.
When Malley teaches, he doesn’t just talk at his students for hours on end, nor does he inundate them with tedious assignments. Instead, he follows a deceptively simple structure that’s effective at creating thoughtful, genuinely engaging discussions — where your desire to participate isn’t driven by some arbitrary grade percentage on the syllabus, but by actual interest. Each week, he asks for an open-ended discussion post on readings which, while admittedly long, never feel like outdated textbook excerpts or irrelevant filler. What really makes him stand out is that he actually reads every post before class, openly referencing, considering and challenging the points students raise and demonstrating real engagement with the work he asks of them. This really shouldn’t feel like a revolutionary teaching model, but somehow, it does.
He also gives feedback on both midterm and final projects, offering thoughtful, individualized comments on work that isn’t unreasonably long or confined by rigid formatting rules. He prioritizes substance over form, treating format not as a constraint but as something adaptable to serve your ideas.
Still, where he’s at his best is in the classroom itself. That’s where his decades of experience in high-stakes diplomacy start to show and the class comes alive. Malley draws on a deep well of personal stories and reflections, often involving the very political figures and peace summits students have only read about. He livens his classes with guest speakers that, as a student, you wouldn’t typically get the chance to hear from — but to him are just personal or professional connections. He stirs up friendly debate and encourages presentations that push you to confront perspectives that may not be your own, and yet still manages to stay unflinchingly neutral. He balances perspectives without letting any one dominate or be sidelined, maintaining a kind of calm, diplomatic presence that’s as impressive as it is rare.
All of this is to say: students notice when their professors care. It’s not about inventing some flashy new teaching method or throwing memes into your slides in an attempt to seem relatable. It’s about getting the basics right — being flexible when needed, engaging with students’ work, and showing up to class like you actually want to be there. Our time at Yale is limited. Why waste it on professors more invested in their next New York Times op-ed or research grant than in the students right in front of them?
Some professors change what you know. Malley changes how you think. Missing that is missing Yale at its best.
ADHAM HUSSEIN is a junior in Morse College studying computer science. He can be reached at adham.hussein@yale.edu.