hosting the Philosophers’ Carnival, January 31

I’m busy hosting blog Carnivals this month.

Socrates, always in a confrontational mindset

It’s been widely publicized already that on Monday, January 17th, this website hosts the inaugural episode of a new Digital Humanities Blog Carnival (submission deadline January 15th, see here for more details). What hasn’t yet been publicized is that on January 31st, I also play host to the Philosophers’ Carnival. It has been a while since I last hosted an episode, since May 2007 to be exact. And in that time, the Philosophers’ Carnival has really taken off as a platform for discussing some of the more emergent issues in the world of academic philosophy.

Submission deadline for the January 31st Carnival is the Friday before (January 28th) at 5:00pm PST. Use the BlogCarnival’s submission page or the form below.

I welcome submissions on any topic of academic philosophy, but please, no self-help prescriptions.

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Philosophers interviewed on radio show

Long before Philosophy Talk hit the Internet, even before the popular WHHY radio talk program Fresh Air with Terry Gross hit the airwaves, there was Soundings. Soundings was a popular weekly radio talk show, produced from 1980 to 1997. Recorded and produced at the National Humanities Center, Soundings host Wayne Pond interviewed many of the Center’s fellows as well as a bevy of politicians, artists, and writers who passed through the Center’s doors during the show’s 17-year run. While production closed down just before the advent of the multi-media Internet, the evergreen content of the discussions is the sort of thing that is perfect for digital archiving.

With a varied guest list that includes such luminaries as Toni Morrison and Eudora Welty as well as hundreds of scholars who are not household names, the Soundings episodes are a collective document of American intellectual life in the latter part of the 20th century. I had the honor of working on the team that undertook digitally preserving the Soundings archive — transferring recordings from vinyl and tape to digital format — while I worked at the National Humanities Center. And in the course of sifting through the 862 episodes and thousands of interviewees, I was most excited to find an interview with Gregory Vlastos. If you don’t know him, Vlastos is the man largely responsible for renewal in interest in ancient Greek philosophy because of his application of analytic techniques to the dialogues of Plato. Socrates: Ironist and Moral Philosopher is one of the best books written on Socrates, Plato, and the problems introduced by the literary nature of our existing record of Socrates’ contributions to the field of philosophy. In a 1981 interview, you can listen to Vlastos discussing the life of Socrates (see below).

There are many more radio interviews with professional philosophers hosted by The Soundings Project, the website re-broadcasting the recordings via streaming or downloadable mp3s. Browse the list of episodes tagged Philosophy, most of which include interviews with professional philosophers who spent some time at the National Humanities Center between 1980 and 1997 and agreed to be interviewed by Wayne Pond, and enjoy the philosophical debate or discussion brought back to the public.

“Vlastos: Socrates in his Time” March 8, 1981

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2264 miles in 2 minutes


Most of us travel during the holiday season. Maybe it’s the stillness of winter that urges us to move ourselves around, since there isn’t much going on around us in the natural world. My friend Eric Shanks, a talented videographer, made this beautiful meditation on motion based on his holiday travels.

Thanks Eric for sharing with all of us some of the beauty we might otherwise miss in all our hurrying from here to there.

 

Are you not entertained?

Students who walk through the arch spanning two unfluted tuscan columns at the entrance to the Central University of Ecuador, the country’s oldest university, might be imagined to feel inspired by the history, the beauty, the accomplishment contained within this symbolic gateway to higher learning.

Universidad Central

But the gate is closed today, and in the intersection just outside the university’s green fields are the smoldering remnants of a burned tire, squashed lemons, torn paper, chunks of broken concrete, and rocks thrown by protestors.

Students use the gate as a focal point for their defense, keeping at bay the military-clad riot police who use urban camouflage to hide behind storefronts along the campus perimeter. The street is littered with debris, and an ambulance from another part of town crunches its tires past a molotov cocktail that explodes harmlessly in the otherwise barren intersection. Buses, taxis, and drivers have been rerouted to Quito’s other major thoroughfares, which absorb the additional traffic reluctantly.

I wrote the above description in May, while living in Quito, after witnessing police with plexiglass shields, bullet proof vests, combat helmets, and knee-high vinyl boots held to a standoff by students dressed in blue jeans, tennis shoes, t-shirts, and the occasional identity-protecting scarf.

Months later, President Rafael Correa clashed with the same police force in a scene that journalists and pundits are interpreting with difficulty. It was either a righteous protest or coup attempt, depending on who offers the explanation. Neither the intentions of the police nor the reasons why the president thought he should appear before an angry crowd of armed protestors are clear. In fact, the motivations in both uprisings are as opaque as the clouds of tear gas that sent the president scrambling for cover in a nearby hospital.

By the New York Times’ account, Correa remains an enigmatic political figure (“In Ecuador, a Leader Who Confounds His Supporters and Detractors Alike,” 10/10/10), and his recent actions have done nothing to clarify his underlying political philosophy or motivations. Nevertheless, he is more popular than ever. “He is in some ways a walking contradiction,” writes Simon Romero, but such character complexity does not trouble literary or art critics. Why does it trouble us when the complexity is unscripted?

Literature deliberately invites readers to an aesthetic experience, while news coverage that excites the passions sometimes troubles us simply because we perceive the story as less likely accurate if its exigency is transparent. But for anyone who had a reason to care about Ecuador on September 30th, our aesthetic response to the police protest that endangered President Correa’s life was guided by urgent Twitter posts and highly stylized photojournalism. In one image, an officer stands arms outstretched in a stance reminiscent of Russell Crowe’s in Gladiator. You can almost hear the officer shouting through the gas mask that renders him invincible to the tear gas, “are you not entertained?”


But intent — the officers’, the photographer’s, the President’s, the storytellers’ — is always contested, and alleged motivations are par for the course when it comes to interpreting events with such high stakes. Art critics would have as much to say as foreign correspondents covering the events in Ecuador, where this is but the latest mixture of violence and performance art to reach the international stage.

At the first event, I stood across the street from the manifestation for more than half an hour with others who were making their way home from work. When I asked fellow onlookers why the students were protesting, most shrugged their shoulders. The contretemps sustained some passersby interest just long enough for them to figure out where they might catch the bus if not here. There was an underlying sense of calm in the midst of this chaos and a shared understanding that it was a performance, but a performance that many were tired of. Both the police and the students tacitly acknowledged a public relations struggle as much as a physical struggle.

During Correa’s standoff with the police, I stood by my laptop, watching updates pour into my Twitter stream from El Comercio, Quito’s largest newspaper, and one brave Quiteña journalist in particular who posted videos and updates from the scene using her camera phone.

Moments before being tear gassed by the very police force that is ordinarily in charge of his security, Correa climbed above a crowd of angry, protesting officers and pulled his shirt away from his chest, screaming, “if you want to kill the president, here he is! Kill him, if you want to! Kill him if you are brave enough!” Ariel Dorfman, the Chilean playwright whose masterpieces document the terror of Pinochet’s power seizure, would have a difficult time staging a more dramatic scene.

Students at the university, members of Ecuador’s scandalized police force, and even President Correa may object to events in which lives were risked and lost being depicted as theatre. But life in such high-pressure moments is nothing less than art, calling on us to deliver the lines of the character we have developed all our life. If it were any less, Mr. President, then why the Homeric chest thumping?

 

Eleven days, Wikileaks, and revolutionary technology

Eleven days had already passed since the original disclosures [in the New York Times], and no catastrophes had occurred. Government concerns about potential national-security crises were nothing but speculation and surmise. The link between publication and consequences, [Alexander] Bickel argued, must be “direct and immediate and visible.” The Brethren: Inside the Supreme Court, Woodward and Armstrong

In June 1971, the New York Times began publishing articles citing a classified history of the US government’s involvement in Vietnam. “The articles were based on a massive study,” Woodward and Armstrong write in The Brethren, “commissioned by former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, covering the period 1945-1967. The entire 47-volume set, called The Pentagon Papers, was considered extremely sensitive.” Two days into the series, Attorney General John Mitchell obtained an order in federal court blocking further publication, arguing that exposing the top-secret study endangered national security. The case was rushed through the courts, and by the 11th day after the initial article appeared in the Times, the Supreme Court heard oral arguments in what became the New York Times vs. U.S. Notably, the Supreme Court decided the case 6-3 in favor of the NY Times — i.e. they decided against restricting the Times from publishing the Pentagon Papers — without knowing exactly what the Times had in its possession. Although each justice wrote his own opinion, the consensus on the court was that the First Amendment is not without limits. The Pentagon Papers did not cross the threshold that would justify prior restraint, but the court reserved the right to block the release of secrets, if their publication threatened imminent harm or endangered national security.

Over the last few days, the Pentagon Papers — the leak, the New York Times publication, and the resulting Supreme Court case — have served as a moral and legal touchstone for examining the Wikileaks case.

The release of more than a thousand diplomatic cables, the exposure of which mostly just embarrasses the United States government by confirming the closed-door candor we all expect anyway, comes across not unlike a prank. Compared to some of the information released by Wikileaks in years past, leaks that earned Julian Assange honors from Amnesty International among other human rights groups, it has been difficult to determine whether the value of the information leaked to the press measures up to the justificatory claims Assange makes in a 2006 essay on why Wikileaks does what it does. In it, Assange claims that since conspiratorial and authoritarian regimes will resist pressure to change, one of the most effective strategies (if not the only effective strategy) to combat conspiracies is to steal and share the regime’s secrets. The conspirators then have two options: be more transparent (i.e. stop conspiring) or seize up with distrust. Leaking a group’s secret information makes it difficult for that group to work in secret. But, as a friend of mine said to me in conversation about this particular Wikileaks information dump, it is “hard to see this latest act as more than information vandalism or mischief (i.e., we leaked ’cause we could).”

And I think that it is the “because we could” part that’s got the U.S. government scared, not necessarily what’s in these cables.

In 1971, the Pentagon Papers literally were papers. Bound to (and in) a physical medium, they required a publisher to distribute the information contained within them. Publishing costs in the 1970s, like most of history, were high enough to require a significant investment of capital in the means of production. That is, not many people owned the means to reproduce a 47-volume set of documents. Neither — and perhaps more importantly — did many people have at the ready a capacity to distribute the documents even if they could reproduce them. Even the newspapers with whom the Pentagon Papers had been shared (the New York Times and the Washington Post among others) did not have the means to reproduce the documents in their entirety. Instead, the newspapers published articles written about the Papers and used the Papers as source material for exposing clandestine and deceptive operations within the federal government. It wasn’t until months later that the average person could read the papers for themselves, and even then Beacon Press published only the selections that Senator Mike Gravel had entered into the public record. When publication is limited to physical media, the information contained within the leaked documents is bound to the limits of what can be shared physically. Physical sharing — duplication and distribution — comes at a high cost.

The difference between the technology used to publish the Pentagon Papers and the Wikileaks cables is astonishing.

Fast forward to November 29, 2009 (eleven days ago). A stateless organization (that is to say, an non-governmental organization with no home country) called Wikileaks shared hundreds of thousands of diplomatic cables with a handful of news organizations, and the New York Times starts publishing them. As the Times says in its online archive,

A mammoth cache of a quarter-million confidential American diplomatic cables, most of them from the last three years, provides an unprecedented look at bargaining by embassies, candid views of foreign leaders and assessments of threats. The material was obtained by Wikileaks and made available to a number of news organizations in advance.

How did this happen? An Army Intelligence officer, SPC Bradley Manning, used his clearance and access to classified documents and a CD-RW, a writable CD on which his co-workers assumed he was listening to Lady Gaga, to smuggle secrets by the megabyte. Manning, with a professed desire to “do the right thing” and shed light on nefarious covert operations, turned over the smuggled data to Wikileaks. [DailyTech]

As David Samuels argues in an article critical of professional journalists who have used their spaces for public discourse to disparage Assange, “The true importance of Wikileaks — and the key to understanding the motivations and behavior of its founder — lies not in the contents of the latest document dump but in the technology that made it possible, which has already shown itself to be a potent weapon to undermine official lies and defend human rights.” In this case, while Senator Joe Lieberman, Attorney General Eric Holder, and other prominent politicos claim that Wikileaks is endangering national security, the consensus in the media is that the 1,000+ cables released so far amount to more embarrassment than threat. [UPDATE: While Wikileaks has more than 250,000 cables in its possession, only 1,606 have been released to the press. See this NYTimes article on Julian Assange's release from custody for more.]

There are more than 250,000 more classified documents in Wikileaks’ possession. They have been encrypted and released via Bit Torrent to ensure their distribution. The encryption key, however, is not yet public, and it is unknown whether Assange and/or others at Wikileaks will release it. The encrypted 1GB+ file is referred to by some media critics as “insurance,” but we still don’t know exactly what it is meant to insure. Because of the widespread distribution of the files, if and when the encryption key is released, it will be the equivalent of instantaneous worldwide publication.

Neither the simultaneous sharing of a quarter-million documents nor the world-wide distribution of 16 million more was possible in 1971. At least, not for an organization the size of Wikileaks. But by reducing the cost of publication and distribution to as close to zero as possible, the Internet has revolutionized the business of leaking secrets.

Similarly, the business of safeguarding them has grown more complicated. In 1971, while the Pentagon Papers were an exhibit in the case before the Supreme Court, the state’s secrets were protected by armed Pentagon security guards posted outside the Supreme Court’s conference room.

Today, many of the state’s secrets are hosted on a website, available to the public to download and read at its leisure. In his infinite wisdom, Senator Joe Lieberman encouraged Amazon, who had been hosting Wikileaks website on one of its servers, to drop the controversial client. And ever since then, the resulting back and forth between corporate entities pulling the rug out from under Wikileaks and hackers responding to the corporate/political bullying has been a fascinating digital tennis match. First Amazon boots Wikileaks from its servers, then Mastercard stops processing transactions that would send money to Wikileaks’ accounts, then PayPal suspends its role in processing donations. The response: anonymous distributed denial of service attacks (DDOS) brought down Mastercard, VISA, and PayPal for brief periods of time on Wednesday, no small feat. And even though the Wikileaks.org address was shut down, Wikileaks’ presence on the web is stronger than ever. Facebook and Twitter have been dragged into the fray for continuing to allow Wikileaks to use accounts, through which supporters distribute information about how to find their websites. On the one hand, the two social media giants have been pressured to close down Wikileaks’ official accounts, which as of yet they have refused to do. On the other hand, they have suspended accounts that were being used by hackers to organize the DDOS strikes. Thus, safeguarding secrets is, because of the nature of the Internet, a game of Whack-a-mole. Dump Wikileaks.org from its DNS registrar, and Twitter becomes a human DNS, pointing people to the server holding the forbidden fruit they are looking for. [Rebooting the News #75] [Slate explains the DDOS attacks]

Lost in the geek’s obsession with who’s turning its back on whom is a latent question: is Wikileaks a press organization? At stake is whether the freedom of the press is relevant to its activities.

In The Atlantic, David Samuels writes, “even as he criticizes the evident failures of the mainstream press, Assange insists that Wikileaks should facilitate traditional reporting and analysis. ‘We’re the step before the first person (investigates),’ he explained, when accepting Amnesty International’s award for exposing police killings in Kenya. ‘Then someone who is familiar with that material needs to step forward to investigate it and put it in political context. Once that is done, then it becomes of public interest.’” Even if Wikileaks does not see itself as a press organization, the question remains. If the Pentagon Papers are any guide, what the Supreme Court seems to be saying is that while stealing secret documents is criminal, publishing them is not. The question that didn’t come up in the New York Times vs. U.S. is whether you or I have the right to publish, or is this right reserved only for corporate entities that self-identify as the press? Samuels stops short of calling Wikileaks a press organization. He says, instead, that the press should be defending and embracing Wikileaks because

it is a fact of the current media landscape that the chilling effect of threatened legal action routinely stops reporters and editors from pursuing stories that might serve the public interest – and anyone who says otherwise is either ignorant or lying… Wikileaks is a powerful new way for reporters and human rights advocates to leverage global information technology systems to break the heavy veil of government and corporate secrecy that is slowly suffocating the American press.

What Samuels is arguing is that the press is not something that can exist in a vacuum. The press is as much a relationship between ideas and community as it is the formal corporation and its employees. New media, through the equalizing power of low/no cost publication, has brought this point into sharp relief.

In 2008, I attended a conference for bloggers organized by the Society of Professional Journalists, a “citizen journalism academy.” The day was partly dedicated to giving bloggers some familiarity with the ethical and legal responsibilities of publishing and partly dedicated to training on how to organize a blog around a research and publication workflow that might otherwise be taught in journalism school. The information was invaluable, but there was a tone in air resonating with bitterness over sharing professional secrets with a bunch of amateurs. I don’t want to revive the “blogger vs. journalist” debate of the last decade as much as point out that it was never resolved.

I prefer to think of the press as a loose assemblage of publishing technologies, groups, and individuals. The press includes professionals and amateurs, newspapers and blogs, Fox News and the Huffington Post, even Twitter when it is used for certain ends. So, why not also include an organization that is committed to exposing secrets, who uses wiki technology as its vehicle of publication? And if Wikileaks is part of the press, then does it not enjoy the same rights (and responsibilities) that fall under the rubric of the freedom of the press? I realize that Wikileaks is neither a US-based organization nor is it necessarily subject to US law. Thus, I am appealing to a more global sense of the importance of a free press.

The threats posed by the release of the remaining 250,000 documents, currently encrypted and controlled by Wikileaks, may justify prior restraint. It is, and should be, more difficult to justify censorship of what amounts to embarrassing private correspondence. The threats to national security by making diplomacy more difficult are not so immediate. Governments carry the burden of justifying the prior restraint. Has Joe Lieberman demonstrated any rationale, or is he just bullying? And is his example the model of leadership the US wants to put forward on the global stage?

 

Ghost bikes and blue hearts, tragic symbols

The phenomenon of ghost bikes reaches worldwide. Even while I was still adjusting my understanding of Spanish to local dialect, the message communicated by the appearance of a ghost bike chained to a telephone pole in Quito’s Parque Carolina resonated fluently: a cyclist was killed here. Most likely, the cyclist was struck by an automobile, either a personal car or one of the high Andean capital’s many blue buses.

Ghost bike (1) Ghost bike

In my neighborhood is where I first noticed the blue hearts painted on the sidewalk. From a friend, I later learned that the blue hearts, like ghost bikes, are informal markers of tragically acceptable violence. This corazon azul (“blue heart” in Spanish) marks a spot where a pedestrian was struck and killed by an unaware driver. It is a memorial for family and friends as well as an exercise in traffic safety education.

blue heart

Ghost bikes and blue hearts serve as daily reminders of the fragility of life, especially when we fashion our lives within the context of so much acceptable risk. A novelty in most towns, they are deliberately eye-catching messages, provocative in their simplicity. The unexplained symbol wedges its look in one’s mind so that only later, when one understands what it stands for, can one appreciate the invasive nature of the symbol. And then the inception is complete, the idea is in your mind, and you see the blue hearts and ghost bikes everywhere. The same as when you take a new liking (or disliking) to a style of clothing, you begin to see that style of clothing in every crowd.

 

Alt Transportation

I’ve started a new Flickr set for the unusual modes of transportation I see around Davis.

Coming from the east coast (and the South), I’m amazed by the number of people who use longboard skateboards as actual transportation. And then I was shown the skateboard parking rack outside the ARC (the university gymnasium). Um, I’d never seen that before. Before coming out here, I knew Davis was a bike-friendly town — arguably the most bike-friendly town in the country and easily the town with the longest history of bike-friendly planning. But it’s not just about the bikes anymore. It’s a multi-modal town, where — in a addition to biking — people skateboard and rollerblade to class, to the café, to the post office, to the grocery store.

Many of the bikes, too, are unusual in themselves. I’ve seen recumbents and trikes, but then again I used to see a number of recumbents in Research Triangle Park (where commuters channel Christopher Walken in Brainstorm, filmed in RTP). But I also see a number of four-wheeled “bikes,” plenty of DIY trailers and add-ons, and an abundance of trail-a-along bikes with child-trailers in tow, making for bicycle-driven minivans on their way to school or soccer practice. But enough describing.

I’ll stop gawking and starting being more handy with the camera.

 

Sports field lights

Sunland Park, #2

Sports field lights cast a pallid film
of luminescence on all first
surfaces, that mixtilinear
layer of leaves, blades, poles, sidewalks,
people and duffles, leaving the
surrounding darkness to threaten its return,
waiting in the shadows of opacity.

Moths and grass mites stagger. Pages
of a notebook, gray hair, the pre-
mature signs of mortality,
transparent and jejune, wanting.

We become what we practice:
the embodiment of those pushy stances and football maneuvers
or patience with strangers who seek direction.

 

Digital Humanities Blog Carnival

The field of the digital humanities has grown significantly over the last decade, and now there is no end of projects to support, ways of thinking to share, and funding opportunities to highlight. The Digital Humanities Blog Carnival is a forum for showing, discussing, and developing some of the best work in this field.

To submit a blog post on something related to the digital humanities, scroll to the Submissions Form below or click here.

Volume 1, Issue 1: January 17, 2011
Volume 1, Issue 2: February 21, 2011

Future Carnivals

  • March 21st will be hosted by Jennifer Guiliano at the Center for Digital Humanities, University of South Carolina no submissions received
  • April 18th will be hosted by Lisa Spiro at the Digital Media Center, Rice University no submissions received
  • May 23rd will be hosted by HASTAC
  • June 20th will be hosted by Center for Digital Humanities (Serbia)

For ideas, consider submitting a blog post in one of the following four categories.

  • projects – highlight, critique, or announce news about a new or ongoing digital humanities project
  • criticism – critical pieces about or general reflections on the digital humanities generally
  • calls for support – invite others to help with a new or ongoing project
  • funding opportunities – announce or share news about funding opportunities for digital humanities projects
  • tools – highlight, demonstrate, or critique tools available to scholars for analysis

or if you have something to say about the digital humanities that does not fall into any of these categories, feel free to create your own.

As far as I know, this is the first blog carnival related to the digital humanities, and I put it together only after searching unsuccessfully for where someone else may have already started it. If indeed there is already a blog carnival for the digital humanities, please let me know. If not, then I propose we move forward from here. I am offering to host the first two — in January and February 2011 — to get the Carnival started. I can continue to host the carnival if necessary, but my hope is that many of the other wonderful bloggers out there with interest in the digital humanities will step up and offer to host at least one. I see no reason why the Digital Humanities Blog Carnival can not be hosted by a different blog each month, once we are up and running.

What is a blog carnival?
Blog carnival’s are best understood when you see good examples, but the blogcarnival.com website has a good description

blog carnivals are a great way for bloggers to recognize each other’s efforts, organize blog posts around important topics, and improve the overall level of conversation in the blogosphere. Carnivals come in edited “editions”, just like magazines or journals. The fact that carnivals are edited (and usually annotated) collections of links lets them serve as “magazines” within the blogosphere, and carnival hosts can earn their readership by providing high quality collections.

Why would serious academics contribute to something called a carnival?
Academic bloggers have several blog carnivals. For example, the Teaching Carnival was recently hosted by the Chronicle of Higher Education’s ProfHacker blog, the Military History Carnival is regularly hosted at the Edge of the American West, and the Philosopher’s Carnival is in good steady rotation among a number of blogs devoted to academic philosophy.

What’s the point of a Digital Humanities blog carnival?
My hope with the DHBC is two-fold:

  1. By gathering together on a monthly basis digestible pieces of life in the digital humanities, we will raise awareness generally for the field – educating professors, students, and the public about the digital humanities. There is already a wonderful private conversation for people interested in the digital humanities — The Humanist listserve. And there are numerous websites and blogs dedicated to digital humanities projects, each with a different audience. A blog carnival is another way to help to cross pollinate audiences and ideas.
  2. Through the discussions that inevitably will follow, I hope that the DHBC will collectively contribute to the ongoing practice of defining just what is the digital humanities.


Digital Humanities Blog Carnival Submissions Form

Please note: this is the official (and only) submissions page for the Digital Humanities Blog Carnival. The form at the BlogCarnival.com site generated too much spam, and submissions sent from its site will be ignored.

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Title of submission:

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Does your submission fall into one of these categories?

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To help me prevent spam, enter the text below as you see it:

 

Putting the ‘Humanities’ in ‘Digital Humanities’

Reflecting on the recent The Humanities and Technology conference (THAT Camp) in San Francisco, what strikes me most is that digital humanities events consistently tip more toward the logic-structured digital side of things. That is, they are less balanced out by the humanities side. But what I mean by that itself has been a problem I’ve been mulling for some time now. What is the missing contribution from the humanities?

Digital Humanities Wordle

I think this digital dominance revolves around two problems.

The first is an old problem. The humanities’ pattern of professional anxiety goes back to the 1800s and stems from pressure to incorporate the methods of science into our disciplines or to develop our own, uniquely humanistic, methods of scholarship. The “digital humanities” rubs salt in these still open wounds by demonstrating what cool things can be done with literature, history, poetry, or philosophy if only we render humanities scholarship compliant with cold, computational logic. Discussions concern how to structure the humanities as data.

The showy and often very visual products built on such data and the ease with which information contained within them is intuitively understood appear, at first blush, to be a triumph of quantitative thinking. The pretty, animated graphs or fluid screen forms belie the fact that boring spreadsheets and databases contain the details. Humanities scholars, too, often recoil from the presumably shallow grasp of a subject that data visualization invites.

For many of us trained in the humanities, to contribute data to such a project feels a bit like chopping up a Picasso into a million pieces and feeding those pieces one by one into a machine that promises to put it all back together, cleaner and prettier than it looked before.

Which leads to the second problem, the difficulty of quantifying an aesthetic experience and — more often — the resistance to doing so. A unique feature of humanities scholarship is that its objects of study evoke an aesthetic response from the reader (or viewer). While a sunset might be beautiful, recognizing its beauty is not critical to studying it scientifically. Failing to appreciate the economy of language in a poem about a sunset, however, is to miss the point.

Literature is more than the sum of its words on a page, just as an artwork is more than the sum of the molecules it comprises. To itemize every word or molecule on a spreadsheet is simply to apply more anesthetizing structure than humanists can bear. And so it seems that the digital humanities is a paradox, trying to combine two incompatible sets of values.

Yet, humanities scholarship is already based on structure: language. “Code,” the underlying set of languages that empowers all things digital, is just another language entering the profession. Since the application of digital tools to traditional humanities scholarship can yield fruitful results, perhaps what is often missing from the humanities is a clearer embrace of code.

In fact, “code” is a good example of how something that is more than the sum of its parts emerges from the atomic bits of text that logic demands must be lined up next to each other in just such-and-such a way. When well-structured code is combined with the right software (e.g., a browser, which itself is a product of code), we see William Blake’s illuminated prints, or hear Gertrude Stein reading a poem, or access a world-wide conversation on just what is the digital humanities. As the folks at WordPress say, code is poetry.

I remember 7th-grade homework assignments programming onscreen fireworks explosions in BASIC. When I was in 7th grade, I was willing to patiently decipher code only because of the promise of cool graphics on the other end. When I was older, I realized the I was willing to read patiently through Hegel and Kant because I learned to see the fireworks in the code itself. To avid readers of literature, the characters of a story come alive to us, laying bare our own feelings or moral inclinations in the process.

Detecting patterns, interpreting symbolism, and analyzing logical inconsistencies in text are all techniques used in humanities scholarship. Perhaps the digital humanities’ greatest gift to the humanities can be the ability to invest a generation of “users” in the techniques and practiced meticulous attention to detail required to become a scholar.


This piece originally appeared in Inside Higher Ed, titled “Putting the ‘Humanities’ in ‘Digital Humanities.’” You can find it over here.