Links

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear Mark,

A few relevant recent links that we may or may not want to think more about.

From Remaking the University, an update on the ongoing UC transformation, with this point of departure, “There is a large and growing literature about why the privatization of public goods reduces access (drinking water, electricity, education) and raises costs.” Given our interest in collaboration among experts in Hollywood and academe in the early part of the twentieth century, and given further our interest in the way that ANT, STS, and new media studies of various kinds are forging links among businesses and academic fields and initiatives, I want us to have a line on the status of such terms as privatization, public goods, and more generally for profit and non-profit.

Here’s another link that draws out the need for a position on that public/private matter, from the Chronicle, via 4humanities, “The Humanities and the Corporate World: Dedicated Deep Thinkers.” About the humanities as the source of corporate idea types.

Lastly, also from 4humanities about a Chronicle piece, this one regarding humanities types working with engineers at UVA: “The Changing Humanities: UVA’s Praxis Program.”

John

Not everything is institutionalized via time to degree

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear John,

Requiring a five year PhD would certainly prove consequential for the humanities disciplines. Would it make them more “relevant” as the Stanford authors claim?

I’m not exactly clear what that term means in context. Clearly, the authors think that relevance equals employment outside the university. There is also an assertion of what humanities PhD’s should be relevant to: “an increasingly global and cosmopolitan 21st century society.”  And, as you point out, departments are asked to redesign “curricula to prepare PhD’s for a diverse array of meaningful, socially productive and personally rewarding careers within and outside the academy.”  The rhetoric of “relevance” allows readers to imagine that nebulously defined social goods (“meaningful,” “productive,” “rewarding”)  can be appraised by means of metrics like time to degree, job placements, and starting salaries. The equation is obviously fallacious. As numerous PhDs, JDs, and MBAs of our acquaintance will testify, one can complete one’s degree on time, immediately find a well paying job, and still not be engaged in activities one regards as particularly “meaningful,” “productive,” and “rewarding.” It has been the job of the humanities to consider such questions of value. They will undo themselves by treating job placement stats as equivalent types of questions. This doesn’t mean that humanities disciplines shouldn’t contemplate a shorter time to degree, just that they have to stick up for the difference between such metrics and questions of social value, lest they lose their professional distinction.

Would the five year PhD encourage humanities disciplines to refocus on questions of social value by requiring them to pay more attention to the professional world outside their boarders?  Maybe. It could be a productive jolt, and the parts of the disciplines in which we seem to be most interested may be poised to take advantage of  it.

Would such an effort necessarily expand job opportunities for humanities PhDs and thus secure the positions of those who train them? I have doubts.

We might consider why the strategy of reducing PhD output did not work. I think we have both found Marc Bousquet persuasive on this question:

shrinking the supply wasn’t working, and could never work, because administrations retain total control of the “demand” for labor—in many disciplines, administrations are perfectly willing to use faculty without doctorates. For that matter, a lot of the work formerly done by faculty is done by persons without an MA or, increasingly, without a BA. In the absence of meaningful regulation, studying the academic labor system as a “market” in tenure-track jobs has little validity.

In different ways, both the Stanford authors and Menand sidestep Bousquest’s challenge to about the entire academic labor system (as opposed to the faculty “job market”). Stanford simply treats as a matter of fact that only a fraction of Humanities PhD’s will secure tenure track jobs without going into the whys and wherefores. Menand encourages his readers to imagine that English professors control admission to their profession in the same way that doctors and lawyers do, whereas there are significant differences in the ways these professions and institutional fields are organized and regulated. (There is no scholarly equivalent of the Bar Association, for example.) Both the Stanford authors and Menand invite us to imagine an ever-larger pool of  humanists credentialed to move across a porous border between academe and industry. Who will regulate this flow and thereby set the market value for humanities PhDs?  It seems likely that humanities PhDs themselves might not have that much to say about it.

I have a lot more to say about this, but I’m going to stop to call attention to another matter.

You left to me the task of pointing out the most important part of Menand’s article (from the point of view of our project). Apologies in advance for the lengthy quote:

The hinge whereby things swung into their present alignment, the ledge of the cliff, is located somewhere around 1970. That is when a shift in the nature of the Ph.D. occurred. The shift was the consequence of a bad synchronicity, one of those historical pincer effects where one trend intersects with its opposite, when an upward curve meets a downward curve. One arm of the pincer has to do with the increased professionalization of academic work, the conversion of the professoriate into a group of people who were more likely to identify with their disciplines than with their campuses. This had two, contradictory effects on the Ph.D.: it raised and lowered the value of the degree at the same time. The value was raised because when institutions began prizing research above teaching and service, the dissertation changed from a kind of final term paper into the first draft of a scholarly monograph. The dissertation became more difficult to write because more hung on its success, and the increased pressure to produce an ultimately publishable work increased, in turn, the time to achieving a degree. That was a change from the faculty point of view. It enhanced the selectivity of the profession.

The change from the institutional point of view, though, had the opposite effect. In order to raise the prominence of research in their institutional profile, schools began adding doctoral programs. Between 1945 and 1975, the number of American undergraduates increased 500 percent, but the number of graduate students increased by nearly 900 percent. On the one hand, a doctorate was harder to get; on the other, it became less valuable because the market began to be flooded with Ph.D.s.

This fact registered after 1970, when the rapid expansion of American higher education abruptly slowed to a crawl, depositing on generational shores a huge tenured faculty and too many doctoral programs churning out Ph.D.s. The year 1970 is also the point from which we can trace the decline in the proportion of students majoring in liberal-arts fields, and, within that decline, a proportionally larger decline in undergraduates majoring in the humanities. In 1970-71, English departments awarded 64,342 bachelor’s degrees; that represented 7.6 percent of all bachelor’s degrees, including those awarded in non-liberal-arts fields, such as business. The only liberal-arts category that awarded more degrees than English was history and social science, a category that combines several disciplines. Thirty years later, in 2000-01, the number of bachelor’s degrees awarded in all fields was 50 percent higher than in 1970-71, but the number of degrees in English was down both in absolute numbers—from 64,342 to 51,419—and as a percentage of all bachelor’s degrees, from 7.6 percent to around 4 percent.

Note the indicative collapse of the difference between “humanities” and “English.” Note also that disciplinary hyperspecialization increases the number of credentialed professionals while decreasing their market value and interest to undergraduates. We think that–despite the culture wars–this is because English was obsessed with defining its object rather than explaining what its object does. Right? What changes about this picture once other humanities disciplines are admitted to it?

Mark

 

 

What is Institutionalized via Time to Degree?

1 Reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear Mark,

I want to table for the moment one thing you noted and follow up (obliquely perhaps) on another.

The point to table:

Public Culture has been fairly unusual in allowing images to share conceptual space with arguments (as opposed to being objects that prose necessarily interprets).

I think this is vital for us, and thinking across media this way is something I want to talk more about. How does Public Culture do it? What does it mean that they do it and others do not? Etc.

The point to follow up:

To intervene on these questions requires not simply identifying and defending alternatives but actually institutionalizing them, which means learning to work with engineers and policy wonks.

Institutionalizing without identifying alternatives for what intellectual practice (for us most specifically humanities intellectual practice) should look like might not be a non-starter though. Certainly, you and I think we need to understand why it is important to talk to engineers, policy wonks, experts from other disciplines, and even professionals involved in profit-making businesses. (The latter sort of collaboration has been anathema for humanities types for a goodly while. Along with the images item above, I’d like us to think more about why exactly.) But how to do this? What institutional carrots and sticks are available?

What about time to degree, which is probably the primary way we humanists currently talk about the viability of the PhD in the humanities?

Consider “The Future of the Humanities PhD at  Stanford,” which got blurbed in an article on Inside Higher Ed this week called “The Radical New Humanities Ph.D.” (a couple of days after it was published this piece remains high up on the site’s most read list).

The professors behind the Stanford statement argue that they are in a position to overhaul the PhD because they have the financial and cultural capital to do so. No doubt. They are guided by these two goals:

1. Rationalizing the investment (on the part of students and the university), by reducing time to degree (TTD).

2. Redesigning graduate curricula to prepare PhD’s for a diverse array of meaningful, socially productive and personally rewarding careers within and outside the academy.

Almost all of the proposal document concentrates on 1., leaving 2. to departments. The proposal requests more secure year-round funding so that students can be students full time during the summer months, mandates times for various sorts of exams (comprehensive exams by the 3rd year, for instance), and asks departments to involve themselves in “serious” review of students completing their second year of course work to decide who goes forward and who gets a terminal MA.

Although in its goal of 5 years to degree for PhD students the proposal does not deviate that far from the perhaps more usual 6 year goal at all sorts of other universities, the proposal does break ground in the way it devalues (by taking time away from) the dissertation. The report suggests that “prestigious” dissertation fellowships have kept Stanford students around for longer than five years, and that such money should be shifted to the full-time, 12 month funding plan that would make pre-dissertation work more robust. What that pre-diss work shall be and the form the dissertation produced in a shorter time shall take will be determined at the level of the department.

In response to the question, “Can and should the humanities PhD remain centrally relevant – at Stanford, in the academy, and in an increasingly global and cosmopolitan 21st century society?” The proposal answers, yes, and it will take less time in school to achieve this relevance too. Or, yes, and the way to make sure is to get students their degrees faster.

This is Louis Menand’s argument too. He observes that humanities programs spend more time training their PhD students than the sciences and social sciences, and concludes as a result:

What is clear is that students who spend eight or nine years in graduate school are being seriously over-trained for the jobs that are available….

The moral of the story that the numbers tell once seemed straightforward: if there are fewer jobs for people with Ph.D.s, then universities should stop giving so many Ph.D.s—by making it harder to get into a Ph.D. program (reducing the number of entrants) or harder to get through (reducing the number of graduates). But this has not worked. Possibly the story has a different moral, which is that there should be a lot more Ph.D.s, and they should be much easier to get….

If Ph.D. programs were determinate in length—if getting a Ph.D. were like getting a law degree—then graduate education might acquire additional focus and efficiency. It might also attract more of the many students who, after completing college, yearn for deeper immersion in academic inquiry, but who cannot envision spending six years or more struggling through a graduate program and then finding themselves virtually disqualified for anything but a teaching career that they cannot count on having.

I wonder whether such a relatively simple matter as shortening time to degree might have even more radical effects. Or, I wonder if there is a way to ensure that shortening time to degree makes it impossible to reproduce a discipline like English in its current form.

How could tightening time to degree be helped to lead students (and their professors) to engage in different kinds of research and especially in more collaborative research? Since we would no longer provide time for every student to write a book of their own, what would encourage us to help them start working together more? Would shortened time to degree require fields with higher bars of entry (because they have language requirements, archival practices that are difficult to acquire, etc.) to rethink their fashion of mandating all participants in a field have all the skills instead of distributing those skills across a team?

What do you think about this small step towards institutionalizing a different sort of intellectual practice?

John

Public Culture’s “Intellectual Practice” Pitch

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear John,

Thanks for identifying Klinenberg’s letter as an occasion to refine our position on disciplinary collaboration, specialization, and the problem of “addressing a public.” That phrase sticks out to me in the quote you pulled–no doubt because of its resonance with Klinenberg’s statement. It strikes me that we more often talk about managing populations than addressing a public. I take our position overall to be that intellectuals do not affect populations primarily by persuading them to think this way or that, but rather by institutionalizing ways of knowing. This involves establishing the terms according to which statements about the public good can be appraised and ratified as much as it does wagering statements in the space of evaluation so established.

I wonder if this can be Klinenberg’s model? It’s difficult to know. The letter does, as you note, invoke the figure of the public intellectual who through plain and persuasive writing might influence a broad audience on matters of shared concern. It also invokes a community of crafty scholars who can be expected to take interest in each others’ work process apart from its results. Are we to think of the public intellectual type as one posture or role the team of crafty scholars might assume? (Perhaps they could designate a star spokesperson or create a virtual avatar.) Or is the public intellectual an ideal type to which every crafty scholar should aspire? I think we could become comfortable affirming the first proposition, but never the second.

As you note, a lot depends on the craftiness at issue, and the picture of the lone scholar laboring in the workshop has got to go.

There are at least two other points in Klinenberg’s letter worth bringing up.

First, this is all really important business: if we are to survive the coming environmental cataclysm and neoliberalism’s savage depredations, we need to get with the program!  Is Public Culture’s idea that intellectuals can intervene on these matters by making more accessible arguments in its pages or by better understanding how they do what they do?  I hope not. To intervene on these questions requires not simply identifying and defending alternatives but actually institutionalizing them, which means learning to work with engineers and policy wonks.

Second, Klinenberg writes:

in the future, as in the past, we will publish analytic images — that is, pictures that help us glimpse the cultural patterns, social structures, and transformations of nature underlying contemporary life. They will include photographs by artists, journalists, and scholars but also images of artworks, film stills, and video footage on our website. These images will surprise not only by revealing times and places rarely seen but also by modeling ways of using our eyes to register deep changes in the social and natural landscape. They will, in short, be pictures to think with.

Good idea! And an occasion to underscore our statement that “while social scientists certainly worry about whether they are talking to themselves, they may be better positioned to make their work relatable because they never equated discipline with the effort to specify a media object.”  Public Culture has been fairly unusual in allowing images to share conceptual space with arguments (as opposed to being objects that prose necessarily interprets). This is not to say that pictures and words analyze in the same way or that it is not worth figuring out how they differ.


Mark

 

Public Culture Pitching “Intellectual Practice”

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear Mark,

In our work in progress, we write:

“[E]engaging in collaboration across institutions is a privilege reserved for upper administration…. It seems clear to us that the solution is not to make our work more popular per se, as commentators across the humanities often claim. Rather, what humanities scholars lack is a means of relating their specialized work to forms of expertise outside the humanities. Although historians and social scientists certainly worry about whether they are talking to themselves, they may be better positioned to make their work relatable because they never equated discipline with the effort to specify a media object. English scholars are just catching up to their social scientific brethren when they exploit the notion of Digital Humanities to conceive of various publics and to consider ways of addressing them. To whit, opening access is important less for how it remakes our standard forms of publication than for how it might make us rethink the relationship between our scholarship and expert writing more generally. This is so whether one considers what happens to expertise and authorship after using ‘crowd review’ of the sort employed by journals like Postmedieval or when aggregating textual and visual projects like those compiled by Media Commons and its sister site #alt Academy, which focuses on alternate careers for humanities scholars.”

Today I ran across this “Editor’s Letter” by Eric Klinenberg, who is taking over the editorial reins at Public Culture, a self-described “interdisciplinary journal of transnational cultural studies” that I happen to like a lot. Among the matters that he promises to take on as editor is precisely the problem of relating expert research to its various publics that we (and obviously not only we) think of as a sizable concern. Here’s his version of the situation:

“Today an abundance of smart and serious research on all of these topics is being done by scholars of culture in a variety of disciplines. Too often, however, this research is published in arcane language that communicates to a narrow set of specialists but not to a broader public, or even to intellectuals in other fields who are exploring similar themes. In recent years, mounting frustration with such highly specialized forms of academic production in the social sciences and humanities has led to calls for more rigorous, publicly engaged scholarship in anthropology, communications, cultural studies, history, literature, political science, and sociology. But we lack a venue that welcomes important contributions on cultural questions from all of these fields, a place where strong writing and clear argumentation are recognized as craft virtues, where the public dissemination of specialized research is an overriding goal. Public Culture aims to fill that void.”

Now, I ask you to bookmark that “mounting frustration” with jargon and highly specialized forms of academic production. Hold that thought as you read the approach he recommends for the journal, namely, interviews with influential scholars:

“Full-length articles based on original research will remain the core of Public Culture, and short, timely essays will continue to run at the front of each issue, in a section that we call the Forum. But, with this issue, we are also introducing new features: Public Culture Interviews will be in-depth discussions with contemporary thinkers who have influenced and inspired us. Typically, we are familiar only with scholarly labor’s final results, published books and articles or occasional lectures. We are all interested in what goes into this final product, which is often the result of many years spent grappling with empirical materials, posing new questions, interpreting existing scholarship, and conversing with colleagues.

Our conversations will call attention to the backstage of intellectual practice. How do scholars search for and identify compelling problems? How do they find their way into and out of complex and difficult material? How do they conceive of their audiences and of their relation to existing disciplines? How do they engage different publics? How do they remain self-critical, open to updating their knowledge, even changing perspectives and ideas? Public Culture Interviews will be open-ended explorations of how intellectual creativity works. We want them to provide insight into each particular subject’s way of working and, in so doing, give us all a chance to reflect on our craft.”

A couple of things leap out at me here.

First, despite “mounting frustration,” there appears to be no problem with specialized research work per se. That can remain untouched. Public Culture will still publish it and scholars will still do it. You don’t have to be Michel Callon to think that maybe there’s more to say on that topic. And probably we should begin with a spirited debate about whether we want to call what we do “our craft.”

Second, professor as auteur? Really? The first interviews are with Mary Poovey and Ian Hacking (the full version of the Hacking interview is behind the pay wall). I think it’s fair to say that we both rely on their work. And I’m not at all adverse to learning about their practice. But in the spirit of our arguments about how important thinking about collaborative practice in the humanities, I am skeptical about whether interviewing famous scholars model gets us very far. When Public Culture starts interviewing research clusters, then I’ll think they are onto something.

Now, an “Editor’s Letter” is pretty much defined as a puff piece, so maybe we shouldn’t take it too seriously. And yet, I found this all a little lamely self-congratulatory.

John

Mangement v. Professionalism

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

Dear Mark,

Just took a look at “If You’re So Smart, Why Are You under Surveillance? Universities, Neoliberalism, and New
Public Management” by Chris Lorenz in the Spring 2012 Critical Inquiry. This may be useful as big picture stuff for us, since Lorenz offers a global narrative of the way neoliberal policy and New Public Management (NPM) has reshaped universities. I find much of this persuasive.

I wonder, however, about the opposition he establishes between management and professionalism. On these grounds:

“Professions, unlike ordinary occupations, are defined by the following characteristics:
1. Mastery of specialist theoretical knowledge. The professional has to
acquire specialist knowledge through extended education and training.
2. Autonomy and control over the work and how the work is done.
This is the most important characteristic of a profession.
3. Being motivated by intrinsic rewards and the interests of clients,
which take priority over the professional’s own interests. This, of
course, does not mean that professionals have no interests.
4. Being committed to a professional career and the objectives of the
service provided by the organization the professional works for. For
professionals their identity is mainly bound to the profession, not to
management aims geared to profit and efficiency.
5. A sense of commitment and collegiality in the professional group
and a sense of responsibility to colleagues. The professional body operates
as an internal control both for admitting people to the profession
and for maintaining professional standards.” (610-11)

Lorenz draws his contrasting definition of management, which he sees as inherently bureaucratic, from Keith Roberts and Karen Donahue, “Professing Professionalism: Bureaucratization and Deprofessionalization in the Academy,” Sociological Focus 33 (Oct. 2000): 365–83.

“First, bureaucracy expects its members to promote and represent the
interests of the organization: the professional expects the interests of
the client to be supreme. . . . Second, bureaucracy sees authority as
residing in legal contracts that are backed by legal sanctions. As utilitarian
and goal-driven formal organizations, bureaucracies focus on
contractual arrangements and formal structures. By contrast, professionals
tend to think of authority being rooted in expertise of the person
holding the position rather than in the power of the status itself.
Along these same lines, bureaucracies expect their members to comply
with directives of the organization; professionals, by contrast, expect to
be guided by the ethical standards of their field as spelled out by professional
associations. Because professionals develop a reference system focussing
on professional colleagues, they are typically more concerned
with maintaining a reputation with peers in their field than they are with
pleasing organizational superiors.” (368)

The upshot for Lorenz is:

“The formal rationalism of bureaucracies—and managerialism in the public
sector is just a modernized version of bureaucracy—is therefore incompatible
with the fundamental motives and the mindset governing the work
of professionals.” (611)

Thus, a division of labor and class warfare between the professionals and the managers.

And, stupid professors who behave as if the rise of quantitative measures within their universities have no bearing on their standing within their fields.

“Remarkably most professors, especially in the humanities, seem stuck in individualistic
ideologies that suggest a direct meritocratic connection between quality
and individual success in academia.” (625)

Where to start. The professionals, in this characterization, look like neanderthals and the managers like little Hitlers (or little Communists; there’s an interesting thread running through the essay in which current university bureaucracy resembles the Communist state). Although I’m persuaded that a good deal of management-speak is bullshit and, further, that it relies on terms of excellence and the like that are tied primarily if not exclusively to quantitative measures, I’m not sure that we are unable to discern good and bad versions of this rhetoric and the outcomes it helps produce.

I find this kind of “to the barricades” argument bracing, and that’s helpful but only goes so far. I agree with Lorenz (how could one not?) that what happens in humanities departments is not always (not usually, perhaps) amenable to quantitative measures. Some things can be counted (numbers of majors) and that tells you something. Some things cannot. But we already know this. Is the right response to recall a day when the numbers didn’t matter more than qualitative measures? Or to find ways to exploit the numbers for disciplinary cum political ends? If the latter, that sounds more managerial than professional, according to Lorenz’s definitions. But I’m tempted to call it good managerial. Good neoliberal too? Shiver.

John

Dear Mark

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

You asked me some questions about how we should use this blog. I thought that I’d go ahead and answer here.

Q: What audiences are we hoping to reach with this?

A: I think it would be great if Obama tweeted a link to one of our posts, but short of that I’m content for the audience to range from you and me to anyone who finds us. I think we should talk to one another, but that we should try to frame what we’re saying in ways that a general audience can grasp. No private jokes, in other words. Or not many private jokes.

 

Q: What kinds of comments are we hoping to attract?

A: I hope as we get polemical that people who care task us with proving / solidifying our claims. Along the lines of getting people who might care to read us, it would be great if we could compile the requisite blog role. I’ll see about starting that up. I would include some theory blogs, some DH stuff, and some new and old media stuff. Agreed?

 

Q: Are we going to conduct a dialog by means of comments or only via posts?

A: I think we should stick to posts. I like the model of the Becker-Posner blog, for instance.

 

Q: Will we ever jointly author posts?

A: I think we should rewrite / edit each other rather than jointly author. That way we can see revisions and take back a move if necessary. I’d like a record of the process that is a little different than the way we’ve been writing / sharing docs to this point.

 

Q: How often are we expecting to post?

A: We are very busy people. I think 20-25 posts per day should suffice.

 

Q: How should we link this blog in with our other activities? Do we need pages that describe who we are?

A: I’m happy to link to other activities, but would suggest for now that we just provide a link to our web pages and such.

 

John

Dear John

Leave a reply
image_pdfimage_print

As we discussed, I have established this blog for our project. It all seems a bit much, but I suppose we’ll grow into it. Our big idea, as you well know, is that the humanities disciplines as currently configured owe an unacknowledged debt to arguments that Hollywood provoked, in the university and outside of it, in the early twentieth century, about the prospectus for improving populations by managing aesthetics. Your contention was that we have a lot to discuss and that we might as well do it in full public view, to amuse as well as enlighten those few idlers with time enough to read it.

Mark