Why Visionary?
Unlike many other fields and constellations in the humanities, the digital
humanities is intimately associated with a fairly pronounced and far-reaching
visionary discourse and transformative sentiment. There is no simple explanation
for this visionary engagement and, given the nature and variation of the field
(Svensson 2010), no one uniform vision. However, we can provisionally identify a
set of reasons and a broader context.
Firstly, despite its fairly long history, the institutional status of digital
humanities is unclear and undecided, which prompts thinking about the future of
the field. As Geoffrey Rockwell noted nearly ten years ago (Rockwell 2002), the
community was already then getting tired of discussing whether humanities
computing is a discipline or an interdisciplinary field. This situation has not
been resolved, and if anything, it has become more multi-layered and complex. It
is true that there are more disciplinary structures for the digital humanities now
(departments, centers, funding schemes and educational programs) but also more
variation across the landscape (Svensson 2010), more concern about inclusion and
exclusion (cf. Sinclair 2010, Trettien 2010, Ramsay 2011), an ongoing discussion
of the status of digital humanities deeply rooted in different visions and models
(cf. Rockwell 2010), and still rather few educational programs that allow “control of its means of reproduction”
[
Rockwell 2002].
While the strength and scope of the visions may be particular to the digital
humanities, most of the features just listed can also be found in other fields. A
useful example is Asian American Studies, which began proper in the late 1980s and
whose establishment as a field shows many parallels to the digital humanities.
Indeed, Chan’s presentation of the achievements of Asian American Studies (Chan
2010:478) – including more faculty positions, book series by academic publishers,
hundreds of people presenting at annual meetings of the association – is
reminiscent of those of digital humanities. She is also concerned with the
relative absence of graduate programs, problems with disciplinary alignment and
not everything being “fixed”:
However, even though these developments seem to indicate that
the field has finally “arrived,” we cannot rest on our
laurels. Despite our new visibility and vigor, we continue to exist on
contested terrain. And the contestation today is not only between us and the
university but also among ourselves.
[Chan 2010, 478]
The digital humanities is a larger enterprise than five or six years ago, and this
expansion has made the field considerably more heterogeneous. Chan discusses the
political and community grounding of Asian American studies and how the field is
contemporarily divided as to whether this is a primary or relevant commitment. The
digital humanities also has a set of embedded core values – including a
predominantly textual orientation and a focus on technology as tool (Svensson
2009) – some of which are challenged or diluted through an expanded notion of the
field. This should not be unnecessarily construed as a problem, but it adds to the
sense of a field in a dynamic state.
Another useful and related comparison is the emergence of Area Studies in the late
1940s. Rafael (1994) discusses Robert Hall’s report on Area Studies from 1947 and
points to how early interest in the field came from a strong sense of
dissatisfaction with current research approaches and methods and with the
specialization and isolation of traditional disciplines. This discourse can
similarly be found in the contemporary discussion of digital humanities where
dissatisfaction with existing structures is seen as a critical driving force (cf.
Terras 2010).
One way for area studies to make a difference and to remedy some of the problems
identified was to give the field a clear agentive role:
Area studies were thus charged with a mediating function,
“nourishing” the disciplines as to bring them in
better touch with the “real world.”
[Rafael 1994, 95]
The view of Area Studies as energizing, connecting and developing the traditional
disciplines corresponds to at least some ideas about the digital humanities. Hall
advocates an in-between position for Area Studies, where the disciplines are quite
important, and he also talks about “dual citizenship”
[
Rafael 1994, 95] as a strategy to bring Area Studies and the disciplines together.
In maintaining disciplinary distinctions, area studies thus
also retained for themselves a relation of dependency to such
disciplines.
[Rafael 1994, 95]
The question of dependency is critical to the digital humanities too, and one that
often surfaces in the discussion of the field. One concern is the relation to
established disciplines and existing academic structures, which together with
uncertainty about the scope and direction of the field contribute to a sense of
unstable boundaries.
There is clear evidence that the terrain of digital humanities is not stable nor
fixed. An example would be the institutional status of the field. At the time of
writing, King’s College is planning to create the Department of Digital Humanities
from the successful and long-standing Center for Computing in the Humanities. At
roughly the same time, Rockwell comments that “I am no longer confident that we want to take the route of
forming a discipline with all its attendant institutions.”
[
Rockwell 2010] Moreover, the Digital Humanities Manifesto 2.0 announces that the Digital
Humanities “is not a unified field but an array of convergent
practices.”
[
Manifesto 2009] This somewhat indeterminate position (cf. e.g. [
Sample 2010a], [
Scheinfeldt 2010]) is coupled with a strong and expanded
interest in the digital humanities. All in all, this leads to the formulation of
strategies and visions as existing academic institutions, scholarly associations
and other actors (including some funding agencies) are engaging with (and
arguably, territorializing) the digital humanities. Most such forward-looking
statements will naturally be visionary and hopeful rather than static and dismal,
as the following whitepaper for a new proposed center exemplifies:
We propose the creation of a Center for Digital Humanities,
Media and Culture (formerly titled Texas Center for Digital Humanities and New
Media). The Center will address two related grand challenges: the need to
investigate the relationship of computing technologies and culture, and the
need to construct cyberinfrastructure for the humanities and social sciences.
The Center’s research, focused in four interrelated areas — the cultural
record, cultural systems, cultural environments, and cultural interactions in
the digital age – engages one of the most compelling questions of our time:
What does it mean to be human in the digital age?
[Texas A&M]
It is simply hard to secure strategic traction if you do not clearly point to
possibilities, development and substantial impact. It is noteworthy, though, that
many digital humanities materials, such as the above whitepaper, hardly point to
any weaknesses or threats, at least not in a more structured manner.
Another important factor is that the digital humanities, at least potentially,
operates across all of the humanities. Under a broadly conceived digital
humanities, there is a range of possible interaction points between the
“digital” and the individual disciplines. A critical
underlying actuality is that information technology provides powerful tools for
the humanities and that the “digital” is an integral part of
our culture, an actuality that affects all the humanities disciplines on a
fundamental level (cf. [
Svensson 2009]). On the other hand, we also
need to be aware that digital humanities as a field has been much more associated
with certain disciplines and perspectives than others. Incidentally, this is also
where we see different levels of visionary leverage depending on the epistemic
commitments and the modes of engagement recruited by a given digital humanities
initiative. An initiative invested in tools for humanities research would make
different claims than one invested in studying the effects of the digital on
contemporary life and culture. Still, regardless of the variety of digital
humanities, there is often an actual or presumed engagement with all or most of
the humanities. This gives the digital humanities more reach than most regular
departments, disciplines and centers, and arguably, both an interest and a mandate
to be invested in the future of the humanities at large (somewhat like humanities
centers). The fact that the field tends to be institutionalized differently than
other academic enterprises might also help in the sense that it facilitates a
freer role and possibly a less competitive stance in relation to established
departments and disciplines.
Additionally, there is humanities-wide leverage on the funding agency level
through organizations such as the National Endowment of Humanities (NEH) Office of
Digital Humanities in the US. Such offices or functions at the funding agency
level can assume an intermediary, bridge-building role within the larger funding
agency structures and can thus strengthen the humanities wide reach of the digital
humanities. An illustrative example is the Digging into Data Challenge (DiD),
which is supported by eight international research organizations in four countries
including NEH:
The DiD Challenge is an open competition, soliciting
applications from researchers in the information, library, archival, and
computational sciences as well as the humanities and the social sciences. A
successful application is likely to be one which addresses the goals of the DiD
initiative (innovative research applied to large scale datasets, effective
interdisciplinary collaboration, and improving access to and sharing of data
for work in the humanities and/or social sciences).
[Digging 2011]
The DiD Challenge is based on access to large data sets, a strong focus on
team-based work and international collaboration. It is significant that in the US,
NEH collaborates with the National Science Foundation (NSF) as well as the
Institute of Museum and Library Services. Also, it seems likely that this would
help create awareness and interest for the field outside the humanities proper.
From the point of view of researchers and the community, such collaboration
probably generates additional resources and leverage. Additionally, while the DiD
initiative is also clearly aligned with a “big data” and
infrastructure paradigm and would necessarily be excluding, the call seems
reasonably open. It puts some emphasis on research and includes digitalized
cultural heritage material as well as born-digital data. Furthermore, the call is
fairly clear about the deliberations, parameters and constraints at play.
Indeed, research infrastructure has cross-sectional potential, and there is often
at least nominal interest in including in the humanities in new research
infrastructure initiatives ([
Svensson 2011]). Here the digital
humanities matches the expectations more than in most other areas. This may lead
to the digital humanities representing the humanities in relation to other areas
of research and development such as science and engineering, which in turn helps
create interest for the field outside of the humanities and contributes to the
sense of digital humanities as representing or manifesting the humanities.
In a sense, the digital humanities can thus come to serve as a relatively
“understandable” and interpretable part of the humanities
through its perceived or projected engagement with technology, often large data
sets, laboratory environments, etc. The magnitude of the research challenges in
terms of complexity, potential impact, resources required and a need to engage
interdisciplinary teams is sometimes compared to those of science and engineering
through invoking the frame of “grand challenges” or
“big humanities” (for examples, see Davidson 2008:714, Weber
2005 and Manovich, interviewed in Franklin and Rodriguez'G. 2008). The
interdisciplinary aspect of digital humanities tends to be foregrounded in these
contexts:
Because Digital Humanities engenders truly interdisciplinary
work with a potentially global impact, granting agencies now recognize that the
Humanities, like other disciplines, have entered the age of the grand
challenge.
[Presner 2009a, 7]
While the ideas of grand challenges and big humanities certainly have attraction
and require essential forward thinking in order to identify complex problems and
large-scale visions, we should be careful not to uncritically accept the frame of
big humanities, which, for instance, has a tendency to be coupled with a
positivist agenda and a homogenization of the humanities (cf. [
Scout 2006]).
There is a strong link between visionary discourse and technology, historically
and contemporarily (see e.g. [
Turner 2006]), and the digital
humanities clearly have a strong investment in technology, technological
infrastructure, and the digital more generally. An obvious example would be
visions that draw directly on existing or future technological innovation. In the
tool-based digital humanities tradition, technologically induced visions or
projections are fairly common, but they often seem to be comparatively low-key and
linked to particular areas or concrete challenges. There is also a more general
visionary strand that can either be associated with a specific set of technologies
such as high-performance computing or with cyberinfrastructure more generally. The
sentiment from the NSF Blue Ribbon Report on Cyberinfrastructure, “a new age has dawned in scientific and engineering
research, pushed by continuing process in computing information, and
communication technology; and pulled by the expanding complexity, scope, and
the scale of today’s research challenges”
[
Atkins et al. 2003, 31] can be traced in the digital humanities too. Similarly, there is often an
accompanying sense of urgency (see e.g. [
Unsworth 2006, 32]).
Importantly, there is a sense that doing digital humanities work requires pushing
on established traditions and structures. This is probably one of the principal
reasons people interested in thinking about and reconfiguring the humanities are
attracted to the field. The title of a recent book project, Hacking the Academy, is symptomatic, and while the following
description of it may be somewhat forceful, the general sentiment is quite
common.
But today serious scholars are asking whether the institutions
of the academy as they have existed for decades, even centuries, aren’t
becoming obsolete. Every aspect of scholarly infrastructure is being
questioned, and even more importantly, being
<em>hacked</em>.
[Cohen 2010]
From this point of view, the need for visions and encouraging rethinking of
established structures seems quite apparent. The tension between the digital
humanities and the academic establishment is multifaceted. For instance, the field
is normally seen as an interdisciplinary venture whereas most universities
primarily support disciplinary work. This tension has practical implications. For
example, running courses with lecturers from different departments may be
administratively difficult (cf. [
Svensson 2010, §79]).
Moreover, much digital humanities work is collaborative and project based, and
such processes and deliverables (including different kinds of digital
publications) may not have a clear place in the reward and support systems of the
academy (cf. [
Ippolito et al. 2009], [
Fitzpatrick 2009]).
Nor may there be physical space or distributed collaborative functions for this
type of teamwork. The collaborative nature of much digital humanities work is an
important factor as well as a changing “ecology” of scholarly
work and the blurring of processes such as research and publishing ([
Price 2011], [
Earhart 2011], [
Fitzpatrick 2009]). For more individual research projects with
traditional scholarly output, what is studied may be seen as peripheral to the
discipline in question and specific needs in terms of engagement with technology
and interdisciplinary connections may cause tension with the epistemic commitments
of the discipline. There is also more generally a great deal of concern about
tenure systems and career paths among faculty or non-faculty positions, as well as
among digital humanities experts and other staff (cf. [
Terras 2010],
[
Kirschenbaum 2010a], [
Fitzpatrick 2009]).
Furthermore, some digital humanities work requires extensive technology
infrastructures, which is not very common in the humanities. Based on these and
other factors, there is a strong sense that the university and the humanities need
to change to accommodate this type of work, and all this feeds into a vision of a
transformed humanities.
On a more overarching level, there is a strong visionary and transformative
sentiment that goes beyond the intermediate-level issues discussed above. This is
where we find grand, sweeping statements and a fair deal of discursive intensity.
David Perry illustrates this sentiment when he says “I don’t want a digital facelift for the humanities, I want
the digital to completely change what it means to be a humanities
scholar”
[
Parry 2010]. This discourse would seem not only to be grounded in the issues discussed
above (coming from the practical work of the digital humanities), but also in more
general discontent with the state of affairs for the humanities, the academe and,
to some extent, society.
There are several intertwined threads that play into this. There is a
long-standing sense that the humanities (and liberal arts education) are fighting
a losing battle for funding, recognition and a civic role (e.g. [
Nussbaum 2010], [
Donoghue 2008]). This sentiment ties
in with a concern about the situation of higher education more generally – not
least in financially dire times and in countries such as the United States and
United Kingdom and can also be seen in the frustration and discontent expressed,
not least, from younger faculty and graduate students about the perceived lack of
future possibilities, resistance to new ideas, and sometimes, a perceived inward
sentiment of the humanities.
The digital humanities can thus become a platform or means for rethinking the
humanities and higher education and a way of channeling transformative sentiment
that often goes far beyond the digital humanities proper. This is an important and
complex function necessary to understanding the digital humanities, and one we
will continue to explore.
Digital Facelifts, Turtlenecked Hairshirts and the Public Humanities
Two blog posts about the digital humanities in the beginning of 2010 stimulated a
fair amount of discussion among digital humanists and others. On January 6, David
Perry posted an entry where he, among other things, said:
I don’t want a digital facelift for the humanities, I want the
digital to completely change what it means to be a humanities scholar. When
this happens then I’ll start arguing that the digital humanities have arrived.
Really I couldn’t care less about text visualizations or neat programs which
analyze the occurrences of the word “house” in Emily
Dickinson’s poetry. If that is your scholarship fine, but it strikes me that
that is just doing the same thing with new tools.
[Parry 2010]
Perry’s statement demonstrates an underlying desire to fundamentally change the
humanities, which goes beyond creating digital tools or analyzing new strata of
study objects. His post resulted in fairly heated discussion on the blog, on
Twitter and over other channels. One point of tension, naturally, is the above
evaluation of traditional text and tool based digital humanities, which would seem
to refer to traditional humanities computing. In a blog comment in relation to
this entry, Steven Ramsay points to the significance of the techne of scholarship
and how a technology such as printing press cannot just be seen as a faster
version of the scriptorium. The argument is that tools of this kind facilitate new
kinds of intellectualism. He puts forward concordance software and corpora as
another example:
I can now search for the word “house” (maybe “domus”) in every work ever
produced in Europe during the entire period in question (in seconds). To
suggest that this is just the same old thing with new tools, or that
scholarship based on corpora of a size unimaginable to any previous generation
in history is just “a fascination with gadgets,” is
to miss both the epochal nature of what’s afoot, and the ways in which
technology and discourse are intertwined.
[Ramsay 2010]
Ramsay uses the size of (some) present-day corpora to support his argument, and
reference to numbers, size and computational speed is quite common in this kind of
discourse (cf. [
Svensson 2011]). The exchange above accentuates the
epistemic tension between a tradition invested in technology as tool and large
data sets and one invested in changing the humanities.
Three days after Perry’s blog entry, Ian Bogost blogged about the status of the
humanities in a fairly provocative way. Here is an excerpt:
If there is one reason things "digital" might release humanism
from its turtlenecked hairshirt, it is precisely because computing has revealed
a world full of things: hairdressers, recipes, pornographers, typefaces, Bible
studies, scandals, magnetic disks, rugby players, dereferenced pointers,
cardboard void fill, pro-lifers, snowstorms. [...] If we want the humanities to
become central, it is not the humanities that must change, but its members. We
must want to be of the world, rather hidden from it. We must be brutal. We must
invoke wrath instead of liberation. We must cull. We must burn away the dead
wood to let new growth flourish. If we don't, we will suffocate under the
noxious rot of our own decay.
[Bogost 2010]
Bogost points to the opening up of the humanities to the outside world partly as a
consequence of the digital and the need for the members of the humanities to
change (rather than the humanities itself). In just a few days, 34 blog comments
were posted to Bogost’s original post, and much discussion was generated over
twitter. Again, in these comments we can see examples of tension between different
flavors of digital humanities. In a particularly forthright comment, Lisa Nakamura
says that,
“digital humanities” boils down to using computers to do
exactly the same silo-ed and intellectually buttoned down work that people did
before. It is the opposite of expansive. But it's always easier to get money
for equipment (i.e. computers to make a million concordances of literature that
people don't even read anymore and sure as hell don't want to read lit-crit
about) than it is to re-envision a field. People in this kind of digital
humanities are very concerned with "preservation" in every sense of the word —
preservation of the status quo, of themselves and their jobs, and of the
methods and fields of the past.
[Nakamura 2010]
Interestingly, Nakamura directly challenges traditional humanities computing or
digital humanities (note the quotation marks) for not doing re-envisioning work
and being technocentric, and firmly categorizing this tradition, or set of
traditions, as facilitating preservation at same time as she expresses clear
discontent with some of the traditional humanities. Again this reflects different
sets of epistemic commitments. Importantly, Nakamura’s own discipline, media
studies (and more broadly, cultural studies), does not have a tradition of
considerable engagement with technology beyond regular academic use (cf. McPherson
2009). In media studies, technology and the digital tend to be objects of
analysis. Also, cultural studies have an engagement with the
“everyday” and hence everyday technology as opposed to
specialized technology and scholarly tools (cf. [
Nakamura 2006]).
Nakamura’s critique can be read as a positioning of media studies (and cultural
studies) in relation to traditional humanities computing (as digital humanities),
which is often enacted by comparative literature and English ([
Kirschenbaum 2010a]), and as part of the ongoing territorialization
of the “digital.” In doing so, she indirectly supports an
expansive and re-envisioning digital humanities, and the view of digital
humanities as an arena for rethinking the humanities.
While the context of these blog entries and associated comments is polemic and
intense (cf. [
Unsworth 2010]) and analytical caution should be
exercised, it is also true that this type of discourse shows us some of the
“cracks” and points of tension in the disciplinary texture.
For instance, as we have seen, there are tensions between a technologically
anchored and tool based approach and a cultural or media studies oriented
approach, where the digital is primarily an object of analysis rather than a
tool.
It is fairly obvious that both Perry and Bogost use the digital and the digital
humanities as a means to discuss the state of the humanities more generally. This
position is even clearer in a HASTAC forum comment by Mark Sample:
The digital humanities should not be about the digital at all.
It’s all about innovation and disruption. The digital humanities is really an
insurgent humanities.
[Sample 2010b]
While the above positions may be seen as particularly forceful, there are many
less extreme discursive examples that build on a certain degree of unhappiness
with the current state and place of the humanities, suggesting the digital as a
possible means of changing these dynamics and trajectory, including this
statement:
As a collective autobiography of mankind, the humanities —
history, literature, art, and philosophy — have historically played a leading
civic role in society. But in recent decades, the academy’s civic role has
weakened: higher education increasingly has been seen as a private rather than
a public good. The Simpson Center for the Humanities at the University of
Washington seeks to reverse this trend by taking humanities scholarship public
with the new digital technologies.
[Simpson Center]
The quote above is from a printed presentation, mainly to potential funders, of a
digital humanities initiative at a humanities center, emphasizing one particular
quality of the technology - the ability of digital technologies to leverage the
humanities as a public project (see [
Woodward 2009] for a
description of the conceptual grounding of public humanities). On this more
particular level, we find that the digital humanities is often discussed in
relation to specific critical topics that arise from the perceived tension between
digital humanities and traditional structures and values in the humanities or the
academy more generally. Examples include outreach and public engagement, reward
structures, digital publication, preserving digital research output as part of the
scholarly record for the field, interdisciplinary work practice, project based
work, infrastructural needs and institutional support.
These topics clearly relate both to visions of the digital humanities and to the
rethinking and envisioning of the humanities more generally. An important
observation is that neither the overarching visionary sentiment, nor most specific
topics typically describe major research challenges for the humanities. Rather the
focus tends to be on the transformation of the humanities and various issues to do
with methodology, digitalization, materials and data, sustainability and
constraints in the academic system. Even big humanities, as outlined in documents
such as the Digital Humanities Manifesto 2.0, is more methodological in nature
than focused on core scholarly issues.
Multiple Visions
Clearly, not all of the digital humanities engages equally in the type of
transformative discourse discussed above. For instance, it would seem that
traditional humanities computing typically does not see itself as a primary agent
for the large-scale change of the humanities. It is also noteworthy that
humanities computing has not had a large investment in the cyberlibertarian side
of computing and the early net from the 1970s and 1980s and onwards ([
Liu 2004, 240–241]), an investment that is much more prevalent
in new media studies, digital media studies, internet studies, etc. (cf. [
Silver 2006]). This does not mean that humanities computing cannot be
(and be perceived as) a transformative practice but rather that the language and
the epistemic stakes are quite different.
Wikipedia defines digital humanities in the following way:
The digital humanities, also known as humanities computing, is
a field of study, research, teaching, and invention concerned with the
intersection of computing and the disciplines of the humanities. It is
methodological by nature and interdisciplinary in scope. It involves
investigation, analysis, synthesis and presentation of information in
electronic form. It studies how these media affect the disciplines in which
they are used, and what these disciplines have to contribute to our knowledge
of computing.[1]
[Wikipedia]
Wikipedia basically employs a humanities computing definition,
[2] and although humanities computing
as a project extends across disciplines, descriptions such as the above often give
a sense of disciplinary and communitarian sentiment. Humanities computing is thus
presented as a fairly well established part of an existing institutional
structure, arguably a projection in its own right, rather than a transformational
force. There is also a tendency to have an inward focus on the community and the
field rather than on systemic and outward change of larger structures. This was
evident, for instance, in Melissa Terras’ plenary talk at the Digital Humanities
2010 conference ([
Terras 2010]). When these articulated visions are
found, they tend to focus on methodology or making cultural heritage accessible
rather than overhauling the humanities. The dream of making our cultural heritage
available to everyone is strongly articulated in the ACLS Report on
Cyberinfrastructure:
We should place the world’s cultural heritage – its historical
documentation, its literary and artistic achievements, its languages, beliefs,
and practices – within the reach of every citizen. The value of building an
infrastructure that gives all citizens access to the human record and the
opportunity to participate in its creation and use is enormous, exceeding even
the significant investment that will be required to build that
infrastructure.
[Unsworth 2006, 40]
No doubt this is a most substantial, and in fact practically unattainable,
challenge and vision, and while it is does not promise to change academia, it
certainly points at large-scale societal and cultural changes, although these
changes are not really presented in detail. On one level, this vision could be
seen as the ultimate goal for a digital humanities focused on archives and
digitalization.
In the following citation from the introduction of the Companion to Digital Humanities, there is another kind of emphasis.
Here, technology-induced method is emphasized, and there is a sense of strongly
pushing the boundaries for humanities scholarship:
The process that one goes through in order to develop, apply,
and compute these knowledge representations is unlike anything that humanities
scholars, outside of philosophy, have ever been required to do. This method, or
perhaps we should call it a heuristic, discovers a new horizon for humanities
scholarship, a paradigm as powerful as any that has arisen in any humanities
discipline in the past – and, indeed, maybe more powerful, because the rigor it
requires will bring to our attention undocumented features of our own ideation.
Coupled with enormous storage capacity and computational power, this heuristic
presents us with patterns and connections in the human record that we would
never otherwise have found or examined.
[Schreibman et al. 2004, xxvi]
There is no distinct institutional or disciplinary focus here, nor a general
discussion of transforming the humanities. Rather the editors emphasize a
projection of powerful tools, formal methods and computational power. The focus on
possibilities associated with technology in the final sentence resonates with some
writings on cyberinfrastructure that associate increases in computational power
with substantial research progress (cf. [
Atkins et al. 2003]). Of course,
“a new horizon for humanities scholarship” can be
seen as potentially revolutionary. However, that would not seem to be the main
thrust or detail of the argument.
In his discussion of the history of humanities computing, [
Raben 1991] gives a useful account of 25 years of development of humanities computing. In
some ways his 1991 projection is more radical than that of the
Companion almost 15 years later where he says that “In that new mode of investigation, surely the power of the
computer will have to be employed in other tasks than the compilation of
concordances”
[
Raben 1991, 349], cf. also Steven Ramsay’s comment
above.
In terms of concrete issues, humanities computing has had a long-standing interest
in many of the critical issues listed earlier including reward structures,
team-based research, digital publication and interdisciplinary work. However,
there is a basic difference in the way these issues are framed and leveraged in
relation to the basic epistemic commitments of different traditions. Looking at
the landscape of the digital humanities more broadly, it seems tenable to assume
that the most far-reaching employment of the digital as a means of (re)negotiating
the humanities does not come from humanities computing with its primary
instrumental orientation, nor from internet studies and many other cultural
studies approaches to the digital with their primary interest in the digital as an
object of analysis (and a stronger disciplinary anchoring). Rather, it seems that
approaches and initiatives invested in several modes of engagement between the
digital and the humanities are more likely to relate to the place and future of
the humanities. This is particularly true if there is an institutional and
policymaking level to these initiatives. HASTAC is a good example of such an
initiative. It is no accident that several of the initiators of HASTAC have strong
institutional positions in humanities centers, or that HASTAC has a focus on
change:
HASTAC ("haystack") is a network of individuals and
institutions inspired by the possibilities that new technologies offer us for
shaping how we learn, teach, communicate, create, and organize our local and
global communities. We are motivated by the conviction that the digital era
provides rich opportunities for informal and formal learning and for
collaborative, networked research that extends across traditional disciplines,
across the boundaries of academe and community, across the "two cultures" of
humanism and technology, across the divide of thinking versus making, and
across social strata and national borders.
[HASTAC]
This is a grand and visionary statement which partly relies on digital
technologies and networks to allow crossing of a whole set of traditional
boundaries. It could be argued that we can trace a trajectory from the “digital era” mentioned and the associated set of
transcending opportunities to the visionary and techno-optimistic sentiment
associated with “cyberspace” and information technology (cf.
[
Turner 2006] and [
Coyne 1999]).
The New Generation
The transformative visions exemplified above often incorporate an emerging
generation of young researchers implicitly or explicitly, and it could be claimed
that they are assigned roles in an emerging narrative of digital humanities. Here
follows an example from an online Twitter conversation in relation to the
conference “Online Humanities Scholarship: The Shape of Things
to Come” (University of Virginia, March 26-28, 2010):
# If established and respected scholars lead the way with examples of
new/different things that are possible... #uvashape [1/2]
# ...then junior scholars will (I hope) find it easier to propose
new/different ways of doing things. cf. McGann & Mandell #uvashape
[2/2] [Williams 2010]
.
The model here seems to be that junior scholars can be helped by senior scholars
through example, probably both to see what is possible and to get authentication
for such activities and modes. There are two underlying assumptions here: firstly
that junior scholars actually want new or different ways of doing things and
secondly, given such a wish, that they would be interested in senior faculty
showing the way. These assumptions may be fairly reasonable and certainly
well-meaning, but it can be argued that there is a risk to
“construct” a generation of young humanities scholars eager
to engage with “new/different ways of doing things” and
in need of help to engage with such practice from e.g. senior scholars, reformed
reward systems, etc. Arguably, such junior scholars are construed as the subjects
of particular transformative visions of the (digital) humanities. This can be
contrasted with the findings of a University of California Report on “Faculty Attitudes and Behaviors regarding Scholarly
Communication”
[
UCOSC 2007, 5] that suggest that junior scholars can be fairly
conservative (partly as a result of tenure criteria) while senior scholars may be
more amenable to change.
While a great deal of hope is assigned to the new generation of digital humanists,
there is also concern with a lack of career paths and professional opportunities.
Such concerns reflect particular issues in different types of digital humanities.
For instance, humanities computing has a long history of tension in terms of
establishing academic job opportunities and career paths, which is partly related
to an often institutionally peripheral position, a different professional
structure than most disciplines (including heaver reliance on skills and practices
not typical of traditional humanities scholarship) and no clear way to a tenure
track or equivalent position nor a highly qualified expert role.
This is becoming a real issue in Digital Humanities. There is
no clear route to an academic job, and no clear route to PhD, and there are a
lot of people at a high level in the field who do not have PhDs. Yet
increasingly, we expect the younger intake to have gone down that route, and
then to work in service level roles (partly because there are few academic
jobs). […] This problem of employment and career and progression taps into a
general frustration for young scholars in our field.
[Terras 2010]
In her analysis, Terras refers to a couple of tweets that together with her own
experience of the field demonstrate the difficult situation for young digital
humanists. There can be no doubt that what she describes is a very real situation.
However, her focus would seem mainly to be humanities computing as digital
humanities, and not young researchers with an investment in the digital humanities
who are anchored in a traditional disciplinary and scholarly context (who, for
instance, may have a fairly clear route to a Ph.D.). John Unsworth portrays such a
new generation of researchers at a conference at Yale University:
The first thing to note is that the conference was
organized by graduate students, not faculty. The co-chairs of the event were
Molly Farrel (Ph.D. in English expected in 2010, dissertation title
“Counting Bodies: Imagining Population in the New World"; […], Heather
Klemann (Ph.D. candidate in Comparative Literature, no date given,
dissertation title “Literary Souvenirs: Didactic Materialism in 13 Late
Eighteenth- and Early Nineteenth-Century Fiction," […], and Taylor Spence
(Ph.D. in History expected in 2011, dissertation title "The Liberal
Schoolmaster"). How did these students get drawn into the digital
humanities?
[Unsworth 2010, 12–13](URLs removed)
.
These students are obviously already well on a path to finishing their Ph.Ds. The
job market, generally speaking, may not seem very promising for new humanities
Ph.Ds. at this point in time, but it would seem quite likely that if they are
interested in pursuing an academic career they would be destined for tenure-track
or equivalent positions rather than service level roles not necessarily because
they would not be interested, but because their kind of digital humanities would
seem more closely aligned with the disciplines and the disciplinary career paths
than with the epistemic tradition and paths associated with humanities computing.
There is a risk of conflating these different traditions in using
“digital humanities” to denote a specific set of epistemic
commitments.
Coming up behind Christy and Harris, Gailey, Ramsay, Bogost,
Kirschenbaum, McCarty, Ayers, Stallybrass, and me, is a generation of graduate
students who essentially learned to do research with digital tools; they aren't
necessarily aware of the history that's implicit, just barely submerged, in the
exchanges we've been considering here — they actually don't care all that much
about the back-story. They're interested in grabbing these tools, using these
new library services, and making their own mark, and they have some interesting
questions to ask.
[Unsworth 2010, 19]
Here, it can be argued that the Yale graduate students that serve as Unsworth’s
example did not necessarily come to the digital humanities (whether to stay is an
open question) through the tools or through a primary wish to utilize these tools
but rather for another kind of engagement with the digital.
[3] This is probably one of
the main differences between the Yale conference and traditional humanities
computing events, and in this sense, the back story is quite important.
What Do Junior Scholars Need to Know?
Interestingly, Stephen Ramsay (among the first generation people listed above)
commented on digital humanities at Yale University in an MLA 2011 position
statement:
But what if Duke or Yale were to offer a degree in Digital
Humanities and they said “no” to code and “yes” to text? Or “no” to
building and “yes” to theorizing? Or decided that
Digital Humanities is what we used to call New Media Studies (which is the
precise condition, as far as I can tell, at Dartmouth)? You might need to know
how to code in order to be competitive for relevant grants with the ODH, NSF,
or Mellon. Maybe that means Yale’s DH ambitions will never get off the ground.
Or maybe Yale is powerful enough to redefine the mission of those institutions
with respect to the Humanities. Most institutions, for the record, are
not.
[Ramsay 2011a]
This quote illustrates some of the tension arising between different epistemic
traditions (Svensson 2009) and between different types of institutions (cf. [
Gailey 2010]) within “big tent” digital
humanities. Here, “coding” (and building) is presented as a
central epistemic commitment of the digital humanities and the presumed criteria
of (some) funding agencies are used to emphasize the centrality of this
commitment. Admittedly, Ramsay’s statement is deliberately provocative, and he
does modulate it somewhat in a follow-up blog post (Ramsay 2011b).
[4] It can
nevertheless be argued that this is an example of a first generation digital
humanist, with a clear investment in humanities computing as digital humanities,
excluding the very new generation of digital humanists that Unsworth describes
above. It is also noteworthy that the Ph.D. thesis topics listed by Unsworth do
not seem to indicate any strong coding component (or building element in a
technical sense).
In a blog entry, Davidson argues for a radically different position when she
discusses a colleague’s dissatisfaction with some digital humanities interviewees’
insistence on stating “knowing HTML” as a primary job
qualification:
We senior Digital Humanities scholars (no matter what position
we take, no matter what side we are on) cannot make knowing or not knowing Mark
Up the one thing everyone not in the field knows about us or we will destroy
our field by provincializing it — and by stigmatizing our students out of the
one area where there are jobs right now. […] An ideal job candidate burns with
the passion of making a field anew. Vision, expansiveness, imagination,
ideas, and brilliance are the requirements. Knowing or not knowing HTML is
way down the list of attributes that make colleagues know that you are the one
they need for a better and brighter future.
[Davidson 2011]
Davidson emphasizes the importance of humanistic research challenges and visionary
work, and she presents a much less exclusionary (if directional) point of view.
Again, we can see how a new generation of scholars becomes part of the discussion
of the future of the digital humanities and gets entangled in associated epistemic
traditions. Indeed, an aspiring young digital humanist listening in on the above
conversation may rightly feel somewhat confused. In itself, a certain level of
uncertainty and dynamicity in relation to an enterprise such as the digital
humanities is not necessarily a problem. However, strictly enforcing epistemic
commitments in the way Ramsay does would not seem compatible with a broadly
conceived digital humanities (arguably an important reason behind the current
interest in the field), and with a view of the field as a meeting place and
innovation hub (where people may come from one tradition and engage with other
traditions). In particular, it would seem wise not to exclude individuals that can
help build and expand the field.
Returning to the earlier citation from Terras’s manuscript, it may be claimed that
the “general frustration for young scholars in our
field” [
Terras 2010] is an example of assigning a role
and sentiment to a whole “new” generation of scholars. This
kind of discourse feeds into the narrative of digital humanities as a field and
confirms the need for change and/or action. Naturally, there is frustration and a
multitude of challenges associated with higher education, and the humanities seems
to be in a particularly vulnerable position. However, there is also a great deal
of hope, energy and opportunity as well as an increasing number of jobs. It is
important not only to acknowledge that young and junior scholars undoubtedly are
potential agents of change but also to be careful about assigning them prescribed
roles.
In any case, large-scale changes projected in vision statements for the digital
humanities are likely to affect coming scholars more than people in established
structures. For instance, a reformed tenure system will obviously not affect
tenured faculty to the same extent as untenured faculty. Nor can there be any
doubt that there is a new generation of researchers invested in the digital and in
exploring and challenging structures that may make digitally inflected work
contested or institutionally misplaced. In addition, it is of significance that
some of the early Ph.D. graduates that combined traditional scholarship with
digitally inflected work have now become tenured and institutionally more
powerful. However, the pace of change should probably not be overrated nor the
willingness to leverage such institutional power to overhaul the existing reward
structures.
Technology as Transformative Discourse
As the above examples indicate, information technology often becomes a way to
explore far-reaching issues beyond the actual subject matter at hand. There is
clearly hope and change embedded in the discourses of technology. Romanyshyn talks
about technology as the “magic of the modern world.”
[
Romanyshyn 1989, 2]. Technology, not least information technology, is intimately connected to
the idea of change and transformation. Hine says that “information and communications technologies have been a
highly persuasive means of imagining our future.”
[
Hine 2003, 1] Change is naturally related and often thought of in relation to a previous
stage of technological development and the broader context of that technology. An
earlier example of this can be seen in Winner’s analysis of the introduction of
aviation, which describes how aviation was projected to eliminate barriers that
had divided humans and how it would bring about a new level of human relations.
Winner states:
As is often the case of such visions, the political edge of
the fantasy focused on social problems associated with a previous stage of
development, in this case the monopoly power of the railroads.
[Winner 2004, 35]
Importantly, the projected societal, political and cultural change does not always
stand in a direct or foreseeable relation to the technology in question. The
leverage of the vision can thus extend far beyond seemingly reasonable
expectations of the technological innovation itself. Sturken and Thomas point to
how technological change more generally affords “desires and concerns of a given social context and the
preoccupations of particular moments in history.”
[
Sturken & Thomas 2004, 1] For the digital humanities, the contextual backdrop is often the current
state of the humanities and higher learning more generally, and the projected
transformation concerns the reformation of these systems.
In the case of information technology, we are concerned with a multitude of
different technologies and complex cultural and societal contexts. It is true that
previous layers of technological innovation have historically been simplified,
conflated and attributed into a single innovation (cf. Eisenstein’s work on the
printing press in Eisenstein 1997), but the pervasiveness and multifaceted
character of contemporary information technology distinguishes it from most other
layers of technology. An important factor is the way in which information
technology seems to cut across different domains, thus making it a particularly
efficient “means” or way we can talk about the world as being
technologically textured ([
Ihde 1990]).
Looking at the discourse of digital humanities, it is quite easy to find radical
projections:
Whereas the modern university segregated scholarship from
curation, demoting the latter to a secondary, supportive role, and sending
curators into exile within museums, archives, and libraries, the Digital
Humanities revolution promotes a fundamental reshaping of the research and
teaching landscape.
[Manifesto 2009]
Obvious indications of this transformative sentiment can be found in the word
“revolution” and in the phrase “fundamental reshaping.” This type of language may be native to the
particular genre of manifestos, but we certainly find this sentiment expressed in
other text types as well.
The transformative discourse of technology is frequently coupled with a sense of
emergency and sudden change (cf. [
Noble 2001] for correspondence
education as an example of this), as well as a consequent pressure to change. This
is also true of the revolution postulated in the digital humanities manifesto
above and in their description of how we are now presented with an “incredibly exciting moment”
[
Manifesto 2009, 7]. Bell and Dourish use the term “proximate future”
[
Bell & Dourish 2007] to describe this “around the corner” moment, which tends
to be invoked repeatedly in the history of a discipline. In the context of
releasing a new report on humanities scholarship and technology in 2006 ([
Unsworth 2006]), the American Council of Learned Societies describes
how they have issued five earlier reports on the same topic (although with other
foci). In this sense, the digital humanities is obviously not a new enterprise,
but nevertheless there is still often a sense of newness and urgency.
The tendency to focus on the proximate future has been observed in relation to
humanities computing and digital humanities on several occasions in this article
series (see e.g. [
Svensson 2011]), in addition to the sense of
emergence and change:
This is a pivotal moment for the digital humanities. The
community has laid a foundation of research methods, theory, practice, and
scholarly conferences and journals. Can we seize this moment to make digital
scholarship a leading force in humanities research? Or will the community fall
behind, not-quite-there, among the many victims of the massive restructuring of
higher education in the current economic crisis?
[Borgman 2009, 1]
Borgman asks us to act, and while there are certainly specific windows of
opportunities that present themselves at certain points in time (and require swift
action), the coming opportunities and associated hopes are also part of the
narrative of digital humanities. The newness and uniqueness of the current moment
in time is often emphasized as when Borgman describes digital humanities as “a new set of practices, using new sets of technologies, to
address research problems of the discipline”
[
Borgman 2009, §3]. This moment and the sense of urgency are strengthened by language such as
“pivotal moment” and “can we
seize this moment,” and symptomatically there is also an indication of
what will or may happen if we do not seize the moment. Certainly, no scholarly
community wishes to fall behind and be “not-quite-there.” Incidentally, this story also overlaps with the story
of cyberinfrastructure, as evidenced in this statement from the NSF Blue Ribbon
Report on Cyberinfrastructure: “A confluence of technology-push and science and
engineering research-pull activities and possibilities makes this the right
time.”
[
Atkins et al. 2003, 12].
Importantly, we need not only to help create the right time ourselves, together
with our academic institutions, funding agencies and other actors, but also we
must be patient enough to take the time to influence the nature and form of the
particular opportunities that will arise over time. The often quoted statement by
the late basketball coach John Wooden may be appropriate here: “be quick, but don’t hurry.” This is a major challenge for
the digital humanities and, indeed, for the humanities.