DH Inclusion: BREAK THE CYCLE

Sorry for the slight delay here, folks. Don’t know about you all, but my week has been CRAZY.

As I sort through all the DH criticisms highlighted in this week’s readings, I nearly started my blog post by asking “Is this for real? Are there really so many issues ALREADY?” But I had to remind myself: no, not already. DH has been around a long time, but as William Pannapacker says in “Digital Humanities Triumphant?”, DH is just now becoming the big thing. However, he contends it is not the “next” big thing, as if it will eventually phase out – DH is here to stay. So of course, even in its low-profile beginnings, DH would suffer criticisms just like any other field that reaches its peak of recognition.

The difference in this unit compared to our past units, I think, is the issue of inclusion. The question is no longer what and more who; or, to use metaphor, we care less about what the clubhouse is made of and more about who gets to come through its doors. I find this ironic because DH is a calculated method of analyzing and theorizing about aspects of humanity like history and current trends, but the debate over what earns the title of “DH” parallels the very problems of inclusion and equality found in the human history that DH scholars seek to study.

Tara McPherson dives into this concept headfirst in her essay addressing why DH currently runs on a one-track mind in terms of what DH could and should be used for. In instances where issues of race, gender, and other divisions in humanities could potentially find benefit in the use of DH analysis as well as in the integration of such issues into DH methods themselves, most people choose either one side or the other – it is far too easy and non-confrontational to avoid crossing what would be a rough river that, as many would argue, doesn’t necessarily need to be crossed (the same stance used by many who would ignore, rather than address, current social issues). As McPherson says, “very few audiences who care about one lens have much patience or tolerance for the other.”

Moving on through the readings, Charlie Edwards addresses the user community of DH application. He asks questions such as: Who is a user of DH? Should being a DH user, if it is a discipline to be learned, be an easy process? Or an honor to be earned? Edwards continues to describe how DHers develop systems with the user in mind, trying to determine the best method to make DH content accessible to the right audiences for that tool. Of course, those wanting to begin learning how to use DH for their own work try to acquaint themselves with these tools, but an unofficial rule of inclusion exists that inhibits their ability to enter and succeed in the “lab” of DH, since those who have already mastered it insist on defining what makes a DH user worthy of being labeled a DH user. As Edwards puts it: “experimentation and collaboration are there, to be sure, but it also conjures a bright pristine working environment sealed to all but the eminently qualified. To generalize, most humanists are not in the habit of breaking into laboratories.”

I think the chapter that struck me the most was “The Turtlenecked Hairshirt” by Ian Bogost, because this is the point at which a DH scholar directly addresses the flaws of humanist study in accepting what DH has to offer. Humanities can provide insight on a wide array of issues in many fields, and DH could open doors for scholars of other areas to use this insight in their work. However, humanists who use DH are inherently putting up walls around the field, trying to take ownership of DH as a “you must know the secret password” method of study. Bogost states: “Humanists work hard but at all the wrong things, the commonest of which is the fetid fester of a hypothetical socialist dream world, one that has become far more disconnected with labor and material than the neoliberalism it claims to replace.” In other (less fancy) words: in their desire to be revolutionary, humanists have used DH to put themselves on a pedestal, and only those who worship them long enough from the ground can have the honor of joining the DH society. How, then, can DH – particularly the humanities aspect – progress and earn respect as a field of those who spearhead its development are too busy “masticating on culture for the pleasure of praising our own steaming shit,” as Bogost so eloquently suggests?

I bring all this up to support my previous assertion: that DH is a mirror to the flaws in human history. Matters of embracing differences, being all-inclusive, promoting equality: all these are issues that have plagued human history as well as current human events, and they all also plague the DH field. If this isn’t already obvious to DH scholars, I wonder what would happen if they took a step back and realized DH can be a tool – a hands-on experiment in how to challenge the problems of humanism in an actual academic and technical discipline. Perhaps if DHers are able to take a step back from themselves and recognize the value of DH as a tool toward human issue resolution, DH can really begin to skyrocket into a highly regarded discipline that excludes no one, and feeds on the very differences that other fields too easily exploit as a means to exclusion and propriety.

My question to my fellow classmates is, do you think DH could have any significant value in your work outside of humanities (assuming there are those out there who do not work full-time in the humanities field)? If not, should DH remain an exclusive field, and for what kind of people? Do you feel that DH could be a tool toward increasing humanism and resolving human issues? Why or why not?

A Big Tent Revival: Productive Problems in the Digital Humanities

To the average reader perusing part three of Debates in the Digital Humanities, things look bad. Tara McPherson’s self-proclaimed polemic problematizes the “modularity of the digital era” as it separates issues of ethnicity and gender from legitimate study. Elizabeth Losh explores the ethical, political, and institutional gray areas of hacktivism as it relates (or does not relate) to the Digital Humanities, and Mark Sample reveals through Don DeLillo a major shortcoming of the field. While George Williams uncovers the less-than-inclusive interfaces ill-equipped for universal users, Charlie Edwards tackles still other usability issues. Beyond this, William Pannapacker and Ian Bogost share similar concerns about the members of the humanities: Pannapacker fears that the Digital humanities cool kids alienate others and Bogost calls attention to stubborn humanists in general. Bethany Nowviske, on the other hand, is tired. Tired of participating in the DH “gentleman’s club,” tired of the institutional melee, and tired of being helpful and nice. It seems, in light of all of this, that there is trouble under the big tent. Read more about what these problems mean…

DH Evaluation: Do you FEEL it?

I will admit, without shame, that I’m still not 100% what digital humanities is supposed to be. To be fair, I know it’s a complex topic that can’t be easily defined by a picture next to some words in the dictionary. But I feel that DH consists of so many ideas, tactics, technologies, etc. that defining it becomes nearly impossible – because how can you define something that is always changing, to the point that by the time the definition has been expressed, it suddenly must change again?

I keep this in mind as I look to my DH evaluation project, and think to myself “how the hell am I going to judge this thing?” I can’t help but reflect on an assignment I just completed in my other class with Dr. Heba (Visual Rhetoric, if anyone else here is in that class). That assignment involved reading about “visual social semiotics,” which is essentially the method of analysis one can use to critique images in similar ways as critiquing words and language. I am pretty well versed in editing the written word (and the verbal, which is often harder), so I related a lot to what the author was contending about how the visual has earned its place in professional communication. She also spoke a lot about how intricate an image is – the angle, color, focus, space, all the things that make an image strong enough to impart a certain feeling or claim on the reader/observer. Visual social semiotics, even the author admits, is not a perfect analysis method, as all the details and combinations that communication requires (such as the combination of images and text) to evoke different responses can hardly be perfectly analyzed – there’s just so much possibility.

That is why, for our DH project evaluation, I intend to look at my selected project from a critical but flexible point of view. Rather than comment on every detail, point out every flaw, and tally every success, I will use a general outline that answers the ultimate question: “Did this project do its job, and do it well?”

The first step in this, for me, is gauging the purpose of the project. This isn’t something I need to know from the author’s mouth; indeed, we rarely get the chance to converse with the creator of a work anyway. No, the project should speak for itself, and so I will look for purpose in its content – what does this project, as a whole, seek to do? Inform, persuade, entertain? For whom is this project created (as in, what end-game audience, rather than the obvious answer of a professor or authority for a grade)? The next step is analyzing execution: does the content bear weight? Is the interface being used easy to navigate and understand? Is the design effective; is the programming performed in a way to draw in the user and make him want to engage in the content? My final step will be a “recommendation” of sorts. From a user point of view, I will point out not just the details but the overall feeling I have that results from my interaction with the project: did I feel like I got something out of the project, and would I recommend it to others as a worthy example of DH work?

This last step may be a red flag, as it is very subjective and hard to qualify or quantify. But at the end of the day, most analysis is, to some degree, subjective – in the humanities, at least. Going back to the idea of visual social semiotics, can one really look at an image objectively and still walk away having understood or absorbed that image’s message? Can we look at topics in humanities and comment on them without influence of feeling or experience? No, I don’t think so. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing. To me, DH is where technology and humanity intersect – it is where tangible advancement and intellectual growth walk hand-in-hand. To take the humanity – the feeling – out of it, and make it only about what’s right or wrong, good or bad, in a digital context would be insulting to the field. If we are to embrace DH, we must be willing to accept that the analysis of DH will involve not only a critique of the technical, but the intelligent integration of the experience and passion held by those who participate in DH creation and studies.

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Embracing ephemerality in the digital humanities

As soon as any DH project's started, it's biological clock is ticking
As soon as any DH project’s started, its biological clock is ticking

One thing that not many digital humanists write about directly, but has become increasingly clear to practitioners in the field, is how ephemeral so much of our thought and work is, especially in comparison to traditional humanities products likes articles and books. What if, while still trying to make our projects more sustainable, we were also to accept ephemerality as central to digital humanities practice? Continue reading “Embracing ephemerality in the digital humanities”