- a digital humanities website

Questions for contemplation this week are: Do human­ist schol­ars need to know how to pro­gram? How would a more open and col­lab­o­ra­tive envi­ron­ment between infor­ma­tion sci­ence and the human­i­ties ben­e­fit both?

A more open and collaborative environment between information science (IS) and the humanities would benefit both fields. To that end, humanities scholars could benefit from understanding how websites and databases are created. The same principle exists for art. In order to appreciate a Pollock, it might be beneficial to understand the properties of paint and what different kinds of paint can do to the surface of a canvas.

The humanities are in need of an overhaul that would focus attention on methodology to the same extent that it stresses theoretical interpretation. A collaborative relationship with IS would likely lead to an enhanced digital literacy that would add value to the humanities. From a practical standpoint, imagine the possibilities for those who are in academic limbo (between ABD and their first full-time tenure-track job) were they to be able to write html, css and java. More job opportunities would be available to those in limbo if more humanities doctoral candidates were required to augment their studies with website and database design courses. In addition, these emerging scholars would also have a vehicle for showcasing their research. With increased exposure comes more opportunities to be mentored by faculty who share their same interests. We have already discussed the possible pitfalls of such early on-line exposure, but my argument, the classic – “nothing-ventured-nothing gained” – is one that I am sticking by regarding academic research.

The humanities have benefited from technological innovations in the past and with the digital age, a variety of individuals are able to create and disseminate information through the Internet. It is important that the ability to produce and disseminate information for publication on the Web not be limited only to those who have knowledge of the “back end” of the World Wide Web. In other words, humanists and IS specialists do a service to those who advocate for open-access when they collaborate, and provide opportunities for a multiplicity of users to post content and receive feedback via the Internet. I do not know if humanists would consider themselves the bridge between the IS community and the non-academic producers of digital information, but humanists may play an important role as curators and designers of digital databases and websites.

Therefore, it seems natural that humanists would consider taking a course in digital humanities and/or demonstrate knowledge of the rudiments of programming through designing and creating digital databases to store research.

Having argued in favor of humanists learning the language of the IS world, three articles I read recently echo the relationship between theory and practice regarding humanities and IS. They are:

Willard McArty, Modeling: A Study in Words and Meanings:

McArty works through definitions of modeling and representation to demonstrate that humanities praxis has always been at the root of scientific inquiry. He concludes that theorizing and subsequently creating models of representation is not a shortcut to the hallowed halls of ivy; rather, such work is part of the process of intellectual engagement that is at the root of humanities scholarship.

Stephen Ramsay, Databases:

Ramsay interrogates the space of the database to remind us that the alternate name for database is the “universe of discourse” and therefore, the database is a text that is to be examined for structure and form as much as it is for content. In this regard, I suggest humanists read a database much as they might read a book, a magazine, a film, or a painting.

Matthew G. Kirschenbaum, So the Colors Cover the Wires: Interface, Aesthetics, and Usability:

Kirschenbaum argues persuasively for a focus on form as it pertains to the presentation of digital data. I would like to think of this as theorizing the future of presentation. For example, Kirschenbaum theorizes that the computer of the future will be foldable, and even “rollable,” as in a magic carpet. What kind of content would best lend itself to such innovative design? Should humanists conduct research with a mind toward how that research will “appear” in publication? I believe it would be forward-thinking to consider form while undertaking research that focuses on substantive content.

This concludes my brief review of three articles that take for granted a merger between theory and praxis.

What do you think? In particular, I would like to hear what long-time holders of a humanities doctorate think about programming, web design and digital representation and presentation of humanities scholarship.

Three articles I found this week serve as examples of how knowledge is produced, maintained, disseminated, and used by digital humanists who use the web as a platform. The articles also demonstrate the complexity of such dissemination, production and maintenance of knowledge. The articles I found are:

Collateral Murder, a WikiLeaks investigation of the United States Army’s role in the death of a Reuters journalist and the maiming of children who were in the vicinity when an Apache helicopter opened fire in Iraq;

Collaborating and Delivering Literature Search Results to Clinical Teams Using Web 2.0 Tools, from Laika’s MedLibLog. (Her real name is Jacqueline.) This article provided the blogger’s assessment of a research survey of websites used by academics at the medical school of a Texas university;

The Trouble with Digital Culture, by Tim Carmody, which I found on the blog, Snarkmarket, produced by Carmody, Matt Thompson, Robin Sloan, and others.

What these three pieces have in common is emphasis on using the Internet as a platform for disseminating, producing and maintaining knowledge. Yet each piece demonstrates the varied impact that such blog posts may have on readers.

For example, the WikiLeaks post referred to above garnered international attention, especially when placed in context with a subsequent controversial release of a collection of data titled the Afghan War Diary. Release of this data led to calls of treason as attention focused on the source of the leak who is alleged to be a U.S soldier. Trending topics related to this story include whether the editor of WikiLeaks, an Australian national, ought to be rounded up for questioning.

Methodology is the focus of the WikiLeaks story and the digital space of the Internet complicates the question of what happens when we, as digital humanists, take a risk and push the button. Voila! An international controversy? Or, sigh, a paltry number of visitors to our website, where, by the way, we also feature tweets about our latest hobby. It seems as though the ‘net is full of such extremes when it comes to the dissemination of knowledge.

For example, the blog post on Laika’s blog is a good example of research on blog use by a specific group of individuals. The article is very metta, to use a linguistic term, as it is a blog post about using digital tools for research. Presumably, it is not the kind of knowledge that generates an audience looking to hold its author(s) accountable for potentially jeopardizing the lives of the subjects of the blog post. Yet, the research may be relevant in that it could help determine the value of using digital tools to disseminate, produce and maintain knowledge.

Still, there seems to be a semblance of indeterminacy about the ‘net. This is not altogether bad as indeterminacy leaves room for criticism and experimentation.

Carmody makes the case that because it seems to be cool to jump on the digital humanities bandwagon, it might be way cooler to view the digital humanities as continually “emerging” and lacking a specific relationship to either the academy or the outside world. His post is meant to be critical of the anti-authoritarian zeal that is often attached to the digital humanities. But by taking this curmudgeonly stance, Carmody’s blog post cannot help but be part of the reaction against the staid practices of the academy with regard to print vs. digital publishing. Afterall, Carmody’s piece is included as part of the “Hacking the Academy” project. So, this is one way that Carmody can exercise academic criticism, and preserve a sense of intellectual credibility, while at the same time belonging to a project that at its core seeks to transform and innovate the academy.

The question becomes, who will manage web content in the aggragate?

In The Social Con­tract of Schol­arly Pub­lish­ing in Dan Cohen’s Digital Humanities Blog, March 5, 2010 toward the conclusion of this piece, Dan Cohen suggests that one answer to the question of whether digital publishing will hold the same sway in the field of the humanities as print publishing may depend upon quantity.  He states, “… value will be perceived in any community-accepted process that narrows the seemingly limitless texts to read or websites to view” Cohen advocates paying careful attention to the blogs and websites as a means of narrowing the sheer amount of material that is available to read.

Aren’t humanities scholars and researchers with their already sharply-honed critical skills ideally suited for such a task as curating the web? I think so.

Kath­leen Fitzpatrick, writes about the possibility of a new class of researcher/writer, in What a Press Can Add in the Age of DIY Pub­lish­ing in her blog, Planned Obso­les­cene.

It is possible that the digital humanities will bring about a new class of researcher/writer. One whose authority is dependent, in part, upon one’s contribution to open-access websites. Fitzpatrick notes that one of the strengths of the World Wide Web is the ability to provide additional venues for scholar’s work, which fall outside the limits of a traditional book publication. Both she and Cohen see the web as a space that can convey as much credibility upon an author as a traditional university press. I would like to think that the web can create more opportunities for scholars to escape professional obscurity.

Stephen Ramsay, in Open Access Pub­lish­ing and Schol­arly Val­ues (part two), makes the case that as academics become more comfortable with publishing on-line and through open-access mediums, their peers may become more invested in reading this published content – even more so than if that content were published in traditional form from a prestigious university press. That is because unlike the prestigious university press, the web is less discriminating and therefore invites more scrutiny than what peers would normally give to a book that presumably had been through the traditional publishing process.

I think Ramsay could be right.

Perhaps a future trend might be for academic publishers to take more risks, perhaps even in the vein of the digital anarchists at WikiLeaks,  to abandon the traditional approach (which does kill more trees) in favor of on-line publishing, complete with the requisite institutional seal of authority, plus a solid, yet flexible and responsive, peer review process.

Mention the word design in relation to the humanities and one might get curious looks from traditionalists who insist content should always take precedence over form. I believe that mastery of content can only enhance form, but one need not trump the other. That is why I prefer to advocate for a digital humanities discourse that supports the idea that without conscious attention to design, good content may be doomed to linger in Internet limbo.

In this blog post, I explore issues related to web design and content spurred on by two thought-provoking questions asked by Claremont Graduate University Digital Humanities Instructor Richard Ross who asks:

Is design an impor­tant fac­tor in knowl­edge pro­duc­tion and its dis­sem­i­na­tion? Should human­ists be con­cerned with design or is design some­thing best left to non-​​humanists?

Digital humanities scholars Daniel J. Cohen and Roy Rosenzweig, authors of Digital history: A guide to gathering, preserving, and presenting the past on the web, and digital historian and web designer, Jeremy Boggs, of the weblog ClioWeb, explore design-related issues and advocate for the importance of design as it pertains to the dissemination and production of knowledge. It is Boggs, a doctoral candidate, who provides a practical, five-part guide to building a website, while Cohen and Rosenzweig take care to detail the history of design, and to share their thoughts on the theory of web design as it pertains to knowledge.

I am a doctoral student who has benefited from course content that has been rich on theory and close reading of texts. This is why I am quite stoked about taking a digital humanities research methods course at the end of my studies. My head is filled with content that one day I long to see represented on an adequately-designed website. (I can only hope one day to become a proficient website designer). The deeper I get into my own research, the more I long to learn how I can represent that research digitally. My desire stems from my curiosity about what kinds of intellectual social networks are accessible through the open-source platform of the web. I view such a connection as an alternative to traditional forms of connecting with others in the field of academia. An example of a traditional way of connecting with like mind souls of the academy would be attending an academic conference.

No, design is not best left to non-humanists, but instead, humanists who are concerned with presentation of their ideas, in effect, become concerned with design. I believe more humanists could benefit from taking a course in web design. Doing so might broaden their ability to disseminate their ideas. Of course, as Cohen and Rosenszweig point out by referring to the artwork of Young-Hae Chang, the web also provides a space for those ideas to be put through the wringer at the risk of one’s credibility. But in this regard, that makes the web no different from any media.

I would prefer to combine knowledge of web design with mastery of content in order to avoid Internet limbo.

What does Internet limbo look like? Perhaps a blog or a web page that has a small, non-diverse audience. I am still thinking through this concept of Internet limbo, though. Maybe you have a concept of it that you would like to share.

If paying attention to design can help digital humanists better communicate their complex ideas, then attention to the practicalities of web design seems like a must.

I do share one concern raised by Cohen and Rosenzweig relative to the issue of simplicity of design. Does a simple design risk a lack of intellectually rigorous content? I believe that design is an important factor in knowledge production and dissemination, but the authors make a very good point about the way in which content may be vulnerable if design is overly simplistic. One example they use is the Amazon.com book review. The question raised is are the customer reviews as well-sourced and deeply engaging as book reviews in academic journals? My hunch is not so much. But the Amazon website is well-designed for navigability.

As humanists, we can advocate for more graduate-level courses that emphasize the practicalities of web design – and all the while help to design the future of humanities scholarship.

Most conflicts surrounding the discussion of digital humanities seem to involve the question of fair use and what sort of material should or should not be kept in the great digital archive. These conflicts stem from older debates concerning the nature of the web, and public and private interests, and ownership of content. We have to turn the clock back to the early 1990s, when the United States was not a nation at war, to remember when the idea of a digital educational and cultural world was still new, exciting and certainly threatening to those who were still on the fence about whether to embrace digital humanities.

Articles I read this week address the major concerns of academics and technology professionals which arose largely during this time in the history of the United States. The debate can be boiled down to this: some technology-phobic individuals shunned digital data collection out of a fear that not enough vetting would go on to ensure that the good was separated from the bad and that facts were properly vetted to ensure truth was separated from fiction. Proponents of digital technology saw it as a revolutionary equalizer with the potential to supplant, and implicitly subvert the institution of higher education, itself.

I refer you to two chapters by Dan Cohen and Roy Rosenzweig in their book, Digital History: A Guide to Gathering, Preserving, and Presenting the Past on the Web for an overview of the great debate over the topic of technology in the academy. The two book chapters to which I refer are: “Promises and Perils of Digital History” and “Owning the Past“.  Also, Tom Scheinfeldt, in his blog Sunset for Ideology, Sunrise for Methodology?, answers the question about what is new in historiography with the answer that methodology is the new theory. I recommend Scheinfeldt’s analysis, although I believe his argument that methodology is somehow devoid of ideology to be arguable.

To return to Cohen and Rosenzweig, In “Owning the Past,” the authors describe the “Creative Commons” and join the chorus of digital historians who view the web as a place where ideas and intellectual products may be exchanged without expectation of compensation. However, their exploration of this topic opens the door to larger questions surrounding crediting the source of intellectual and creative work produced for the web. Cohen and Rosenzweig limit their discussion of copyright and intellectual property to the challenges faced by digital historians, rather than to those who belong to other fields such as creative writing, photography, English, or the sciences. By limiting the scope of their analysis, they cement their place as scholars who seek to advance the field of digital history.

Cohen and Rosenzweig provide a historical analysis of United States copyright law, and Article 1, Section 8 of the U.S. Constitution. It is fascinating to think that the founding fathers anticipated the discussion of what is private and what is public with regard to artistic and intellectual property, thus foreshadowing the inevitable conflicts that would arise in a nation that values creativity and innovation.

It is admirable that proponents of the Creative Commons advocate an ethos of sharing. But proponents of the Creative Commons are equally wise to provide a response to the critics who wisely argue that there are those who will take advantage of such freedom.

As an emerging academic who is also a producer of intellectual and cultural works, I am interested in enlarging the public domain for the reception of my products, but I am wary of doing this at a loss, for lack of a better term. How do I describe loss? In this case, a loss could be a lack of a citation credit for work produced by me that was used by someone else with or without my permission. In this regard, the web does not differ from traditional print media. If I were writing a newspaper article, for example, my name might be included in the byline, or if not I would be listed on the masthead as one of the contributors. I wonder how others feel regarding the issue of credit for work produced? Are there times when receiving a credit in the form of a byline is simply unnecessary? Do you feel that a credit is necessary to establish your credibility in the field?

I try not to let such questions keep me from producing work. Like many in the interpretive disciplines, I feel there is much satisfaction in the creative and intellectual process of generating ideas and topics for exploration. The consequences of narrowing the scope of the conversation to focus solely on ownership  way can create a binary system of thinking in which too much emphasis is placed on getting something in return for simply doing something. The consequence of this type of thinking may be to sacrifice content for form, or quality for quantity. This way of thinking also might prejudice some against the use of digital technology.

But today, with emphasis increasingly placed on interdisciplinary study, I see binary opposition between those  who embrace technology and those who shun technology to be on the wane. The debate has moved beyond whether it is good or bad to digitize and subsequently digitally catalog an opera score, for example, but the debate about who curates that digitized score and how and where it should be stored is very much a part of the conversation regarding work in the digital humanities.

In addition to the digital humanities, digital technology work in other fields is helping to shift the discourse to the topic of pragmatics and away from the discourse of platitudes vs. perils. For example,  in a recent article in The New York Times Magazine called “Digital Diplomacy“, Jesse Lichtenstein explores the use of Twitter by two young U.S. State Department officials under Secretary of State Hillary Clinton. At the heart of the story is the question of the role form plays in disseminating content. The author uses as an example the instance of a scheduled maintenance session for Twitter that coincided with heavy use of the social networking tool by an opposition candidate during the most recent, and controversial, Iranian election. The article raises the question of whether a State Department aid used his influence to persuade Twitter to delay the maintenance which would have taken Twitter offline at a time deemed crucial for the opposition leader. This example illustrates that the criticisms of digital technology exceed the common complaints typically generated by academics which generally have to do with open access, copyright law and accuracy.

Another example about the pervasive influence of digital technology is a recent report by The Washington Post called “Top Secret America” which I first learned about by perusing the Democracy Now! website. What Post reporters Dana Priest and Bill Arkin have done with their investigation is amazing. My blog does not go into the specifics of their findings, however, although I recommend the series as an informative read.

What I would like to point out is that along with the series investigation, the reporters have also created a digital database with links that provide information about the subject matter. This investigative series is an excellent example of digital journalism, another methodology that augments the field of journalism, and one that was still considered emerging at the time I first entered the field of journalism.

These days, with social media in the form of Facebook and Twitter becoming increasingly the norm for staying in touch with people and sharing information, it is getting difficult to remember how polarizing talk about technology use within and without the academy used to be. Yet, outside of the academy, in the world of international politics, journalism, entertainment and social networking, the use of social media is the new normal.

There is even a digital humanities page on  Facebook. The most recent time I viewed the page, 65 people had “liked” it. I noticed that the content had been credited to Wikipedia. I, so far, have not given the page a personal “thumb up,”  largely because I cannot determine who created the page in the first place. The page appears to contain useful information by people knowledgeable in the field of digital humanities.

Until I know more, I shall hold off on “liking” the page. Perhaps you are familiar with this page and would like to share information. If so, feel free to post in the comments section

Open access is a term that is usually associated with the field of higher education to indicate colleges and universities that do not apply selective admissions criteria to college applicants. But open access has another meaning, one that is related to the digital humanities. In this context, open access implies transparency.

Open access means there are infinite possibilities for humanities scholars and researchers to mine data, share knowledge, and create new possibilities for cataloging and archiving information. Three articles I read this week emphasize the fact that digital humanities research implies the need for collaboration. The future of humanities scholarship and research is the methodology of digital archiving, cataloging, file sharing, and publishing.

The titles of the articles I read are: “Methodology for the Infinite Archive,” by William J. Turkel, “The Database of Intentions,” by John Battelle, and “Interchange: The Promise of Digital History,” by Daniel J. Cohen, Michael Frisch, Patrick Gallagher, Steven Mintz, Kristen Sword, Amy Murrell Taylor, William G. Thomas III, and William J. Turkel. (It should be noted that this last article – simply by the fact that there are eight authors – exemplifies the collaborative nature of the digital humanities.)

What follows is my brief reaction to the pieces.

Turkel stresses the importance of doing the hard work of problem solving when faced with the challenge of producing new knowledge. He tasks scholars who hold close reading dear to combine that form of high literacy with practical knowledge related to digital humanities.

In his weblog “Methodology for the Infinite Archive” Turkel boldly states, “… we need the work of archivists, librarians and curators more than ever. We also need some new skills.” Yes we do. I agree with Turkel. New ways of approaching humanities scholarship are needed if we are to pass the torch to the next generation of close readers. New literacies are needed as well. Digital humanities provides a gateway for the exploration of new modes of cataloging thought and, more importantly, it is a gateway to a new literacy. In future posts, I would like to explore the concept of digital literacy.

The gateway to new modes of data acquisition is what led John Battelle to explore the meta-linguistics of the history behind the Internet search. Battelle was motivated to write a book exploring a concept he calls “the database of intentions” which he describes as the footprint and subsequent trail of every Internet search ever conducted. I like Battelle’s approach. In a few short, tightly crafted paragraphs, he manages to emphasize the importance of looking at the overlaps, the clashes and convergences of thought patterns related to the topics of culture, technology, communication, and education.

Finally, the article authored by the group-of-eight professors and practitioners named above presents a global discussion on the subject of the humanities that was facilitated through the use of e-mail.  Nice. Here we have a transparent example of how technology can be used to facilitate intellectual inquiry and the result is a 41-page article that presents problems and challenges associated with preparing scholars and researchers for the future of research in the field of the humanities. What the authors rightly conclude is that institutions of higher education could do a better job of  providing students opportunities to develop their publishing and editing skills. The writers also emphasize the positive attention future employers give to grad students who are able to demonstrate their use of technology.

I predict that in the future, peer-reviewed academic journals will be democratized. Each one of us who develops databases, websites and weblogs has the potential to become the publishers of our own peer-reviewed journals. These journals will meet acceptable standards for publication. The difference will be greater transparency in the publishing process as the web removes the veil of exclusivity that is often associated with traditional print, peer-reviewed journals.

In summary, digital humanities as a research methodology emphasizes a democratic approach to information collection and sharing where collaboration is often the norm, although there is plenty of room in the blogosphere for independent scholarship.  I see digital humanities as the future of humanities inquiry and scholarship. I look forward to exploring the pitfalls and problems associated with digital humanities in future posts. I am sure that the method is not immune to adverse criticism.

Perhaps you have some thoughts on or references to articles on the subject of the digital humanities that you would like to share. Feel free to participate in the conversation by responding in the comments section.

Academic institutions of higher education are known to resist change. Perhaps this is wise due to the role colleges and universities play in society as incubators of the next generation of scholars, researchers and public servants. However, change comes to world economies, governments, and families. So, it stands to reason that change will occur at institutions of higher learning. I foresee the most dramatic change occurring in the humanities with regard to research methodology.

Here’s to the future. The future of open access.