Here is what it is all about:
Gun violence remains a pervasive public health crisis in the United States. As the country grows all too familiar with the cycle of violence, mourning, and inaction that takes place after any mass shooting, evidence-based research from experts and scholars is essential for any meaningful policy solutions to take place. In this spirit, and in collaboration with our publishers, we have decided to temporarily open up select content on Project MUSE that address the complex challenge of gun violence.
“MUSE in Focus: Addressing Gun Violence” is a selection of recent scholarship from Project MUSE publishers on gun violence, its effect throughout the culture, and its possible solutions. Our hope is that bringing these pieces together, and broadening their reach beyond the limits of our subscribing institutions, will help to inform the policymakers responsible for solving this crisis, as well as to educate researchers and other concerned citizens who seek evidence-based work on this topic.
Click here to access books published by Johns Hopkins University Press, University of Michigan Press, University of Massachusetts Press, University of North Carolina Press, Penn State University Press, Michigan State University Press, and University of Pennsylvania Press. Authors/editors include Saul Cornell, Craig Rood, Angela Stroud, Nathan Kozuskanich, and Michael Hogan.
The Chronicle of Higher Education asked scholars to answer this question. Here are some of the titles they chose:
Steven Pinker, The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why Violence Has Declined
Robert Putnam: Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community
Michelle Alexander, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness
Jo Guildi and David Armitage, The History Manifesto
Jonathan Levy: Freaks of Fortune: The Emerging World of Capitalism and Risk in Modern America
Dorothy Roberts, Killing the Black Body: Race, Reproduction, and the Meaning of Liberty
David Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism
Jessica Riskin, The Restless Clock: A History of the Centuries-Long Argument Over What Makes Living Things Tick
Barbara Ransby, Ella Baker & the Black Freedom Movement
Bernard Williams, Truth and Truthfulness
Daniel T. Rodgers, The Age of Fracture
Read the entire list here.
- How many have you read?
- What books would you add to the list?
John Schmalzbauer‘s recent piece at Immanent Frame is a reminder that scholarship and scholarly organizations cannot function without money. We need philanthropists, such as John D. Rockefeller Jr., to keep doing what we do. Here is a taste of his excellent essay: “As rich as Rockefeller, Danforth, Lilly, Lice, Pew, and Templeton“:
At the outset of the twenty-first century, what do these Rockefeller-funded projects have to teach us about religion in higher education?
First, they teach us that philanthropy matters. Just as Lilly Endowment, the Henry Luce Foundation, the Pew Charitable Trusts, and the John Templeton Foundation have sponsored much of the current wave of religious scholarship, the Rockefeller family helped underwrite an earlier era of research. Equally significant, the Danforth and Hazen foundations bankrolled the revival of religious intellectual life following the Second World War.
Second, these earlier projects show that religious scholarship is shaped by the hopes and anxieties of its funders. From the University of Chicago Divinity School to the Riverside Church, the Rockefellers fostered the growth of liberal Protestant institutions in the United States. Inspired by a global ecumenical vision, at least some of this philanthropy was rooted in fears of Protestant fundamentalism. Assisted by public relations founder Ivy Lee, John D. Rockefeller, Jr. subsidized the distribution of Harry Emerson Fosdick’s 1922 sermon, “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” Reflecting the close ties among mainline Protestant elites, Fosdick’s brother Raymond later served as the president of the Rockefeller Foundation.
Similar concerns have shaped more recent support for the academic study of religion. Chronicling the “mainstream Protestant ‘decline,’” many of Lilly’s grantees focused on two questions: “1) Just how bad is it? and 2) How did we get here?” Other foundations worried about the rise of the New Christian Right. Commenting on the MacArthur Foundation’s sponsorship of the Fundamentalism Project, Peter Berger quipped that it “was a matter of knowing one’s enemies,” a fear with deep roots in American culture. Describing a similar sentiment on The Immanent Frame, historian David Hollinger attributed the popularity of American religious history to electoral politics, noting that religion is “harder to ignore if it keeps coming back and hitting you again and again.”
Read the entire piece here.
In the last six months I have had conversations with at least four different professors at four different small Christian colleges in the United States. These professors were all lamenting the fact that the administrations at their colleges had recently made decisions to cut funding for faculty scholarship. One school had severely limited the number of sabbaticals offered each year. Another school had cut internal grant money for faculty working on scholarly projects. Two professors said that administrators told them that their primary job was teaching and if they wanted to do scholarship they were certainly welcome to pursue such a course, but it would need to be done on their own time. According to another professor, an administrator told him/her that faculty scholarship is not a bad thing, but in an “age of prioritization” the funding for such scholarship needed to be cut because, in the long run, it doesn’t put students in the seats.
The emotions of these professors ranged from angry to sad. They all had really interesting research projects, but they did not have the resources or support to pursue them. One professor had to turn down an external grant because the administration could not afford to have him be away from the classroom for an entire academic year.
I am sympathetic to the idea that faculty books and articles do not attract prospective students. (Although I am sure that if a faculty member at a small Christian college won a Pulitzer Prize the PR department and the administration would not hesitate to bring attention to such an achievement!).
I also understand that many small schools need to make serious budget cuts in order to keep the doors open. But to cut funds and opportunities for faculty scholarship at small, largely teaching, institutions is a short-sighted approach that ultimately hurts students.
In the past year or so I have had other kinds of conversations with other colleagues in my field. They have told me stories of students at small colleges who have won entrance to graduate school or landed jobs precisely because faculty at their institutions had published books and articles that gave the school academic and intellectual credibility.
This is especially relevant for small Christian colleges. Since many prestigious graduate programs–especially in the humanities–are overwhelmingly secular in orientation, many of the faculty in these graduate programs tend to be suspect of Christian college graduates. This is unfortunate since many students at Christian colleges are more than capable of doing work at the best graduate schools in the country. But it is also a reality. Let’s face it, an absolutely outstanding student at a small Christian college with high test scores needs to have a great vita and letters of reference if they are going to compete for a spot in a graduate program with an above-average student who went to college at Harvard or Yale.
Having said that, it doesn’t take much to convince faculty at prestigious graduate schools that Christian college alums are legitimate. When graduate committees at these schools are familiar with the scholarly work of faculty at these small Christian colleges it legitimizes the academic quality of such colleges and the students who graduate from them. I can think of many Messiah College history students who were accepted and funded at top schools around the country because someone in the history department at those schools knew about the scholarly work of one our faculty members.
Just this week I was talking to a history professor at a small Christian college who landed one of his students at a high-powered and very competitive graduate program because one of the graduate faculty in that program had read one of his books and cited it in his own scholarly work.
Also this week I met a student who just got accepted to one of the best graduate programs in his field. When I learned about this I approached the student to offer my congratulations. (I should add that I did not write a letter for this student. I have never taught this student. I had no idea he was even applying to this particular program. And to the best of my memory this was the first time I had ever actually spoken more than a few words to him). When we chatted he told me that he was very nervous during his campus interview. He was was worried about how his Messiah College degree would be received at this elite institution. But during the course of the interview the director of the graduate program told him that he was familiar with my work and followed me on Twitter. I have no doubt that this student was accepted to this program on his own merits, but the fact that the director knew the academic reputation of Messiah College certainly helped him. I hope he left the conversation thankful that Messiah supports faculty scholarship. I know I did.
Faculty do scholarly work for a number of reasons. Some feel called to make contributions to knowledge. Others may do it to pursue personal glory or prestige at their institutions or in their disciplines. Still other do it as way of climbing the academic ladder, landing a better job, or securing higher speaking fees. But we rarely frame faculty scholarship in terms of what it might do for our students. When it is framed this way, scholarship becomes less about the career or even professional development of the individual scholar-teacher and more about an act of service to the young men and women we encounter everyday in our classrooms.
When Oxford University Press asked me this question I decided to consider “scholarship” in a very broad fashion to include the scholarship of teaching and historical thinking.
I chose the word “empathy.”
Here is a taste of the blog post on this subject at the OUP blog:
This is from last year’s OAH meeting, but Oxford University Press tweeted it again today and I think the video is still relevant. All of them are good, but I lean toward Ed Linenthal:
Johann Neem, an American historian at Western Washington University, is very aware of the fact that academic writing can be impenetrable. He also believes that it is important for historians and other academics to write for the public.
Over at The Chronicle of Higher Education, Neem defends both kinds of writing.
Neem’s argument makes perfect sense to me.
Here is a taste:
Basic research in the arts and sciences is the source of wisdom. Yet that wisdom needs to be shared. There are in all disciplines scholars who fit Cicero’s definition of the ideal orator, combining eloquence with wisdom. Yet Cicero recognized that the philosophical pursuit of truth requires different things from us than public engagement because it is a different kind of activity. We do neither academics nor the public any service when we conflate the two. Indeed, doing so is a category mistake.
We want physicists who write for each other. I appreciate that, at conferences and in academic papers, they have challenged each other’s conclusions and, in doing so, have pushed forward the boundaries of knowledge. Yet I am also grateful for my scientist friends who posted on Facebook links to videos and essays in which scientists explained, in terms that I could understand, why it was so significant that we had heard black holes colliding.
I enjoyed physicist Lawrence Krauss’s clear articulation of why a citizen like me — who could never understand an academic paper in physics — should continue to support investing oodles of money in basic research: “By exploring processes near the event horizon, or by observing gravitational waves from the early universe, we may learn more about the beginning of the universe itself, or even the possible existence of other universes.” This matters: “Every child has wondered at some time where we came from and how we got here. That we can try and answer such questions by building devices like LIGO to peer out into the cosmos stands as a testament to the persistent curiosity and ingenuity of humankind — the qualities that we should most celebrate about being human.”
I appreciate the scientists who have taken time to write for readers like me about the importance of hearing ripples in space-time. But I am also thankful for the many scientists who spend most of their time talking to each other. Instead of writing for me, they devoted their efforts to producing inaccessible scholarship that, over time, produced public insights of profound beauty.
Read the entire piece here.
Bruce Cole was the chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities from 2001-2009. Before joining the NEH he was a Distinguished Professor of Art History and Professor of Comparative Literature at Indiana University in Bloomington. He was appointed to the NEH chair by George W. Bush. Cole is now a senior fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, a conservative think tank in Washington D.C.
Cole offers a common conservative critique of the humanities. It is also a critique that should be taken seriously regardless of how one views the world.
Here is a taste of his recent piece at The Public Discourse
Too many humanities scholars are alienating students and the public with their opacity, triviality, and irrelevance. A good case in point is this passage from Manifesto for the Humanities, a recent book by the director of an institute for the humanities at a major US university:
Writing this book, I came to see the new scholar subject as a performative of passionate singularity, hybrid materiality and networked relationality. This is one sense in which the humanities scholar that is becoming is possibly posthuman, and a posthumanist scholar. The locus of thinking, for the prosthetically extendable scholar joined along the currents of networked relationality, is an ensemble affair.
There’s no denying the importance of the humanities, but this sort of writing and thinking gives us a pretty good picture of why so many academics are alienating those who could benefit most from them.
It is undeniable that, for centuries, the humanities have made important contributions to other fields of inquiry, such as medicine, law, and engineering, to cite just a few. Ideally, university administrators, business executives, foundation directors, policymakers and many others—both in the private sector and in state and federal government—can and should benefit from the knowledge and wisdom embedded in the humanities. Unfortunately, these people are increasingly alienated from studying them in our colleges and universities.
I saw this as chairman of the National Endowment for the Humanities, a federal agency chartered to bring their benefits to all Americans. This gave me an up-close and personal view of the state of the humanities on the national level. That experience fortified my faith in their importance, but it also left me with serious doubts about how their values and knowledge are being transmitted.
Let me explain. The chairman is, by law, the only person in the agency who decides what gets funded. Recommendations for awards are made by peer review panels composed mainly of academics. These recommendations are then sent to the National Council on the Humanities, a board made up of twenty-six scholars and citizen members. The Council then makes its own recommendations and sends these on to the chairman, who then makes the final, and only, decision on the disbursement of funds.
Because I had to personally approve every grant, I attended hundreds and hundreds of peer review panels to be sure that I made informed decisions. I also read thousands of applications. Over the seven years I served as chairman, this gave me a unique overview of all the humanities disciplines, but for the sake of brevity, I will confine my observations to the content of applicants for NEH research fellowships. About half of all applications to the NEH are for such fellowships, most from humanities professors at the nation’s colleges and universities. On average, only about 8 percent of these are funded.
My experience with these applications was, to put it mildly, disappointing. The weaknesses and trends I observed in them are worth examining because they illustrate larger problems in today’s academy.
Obscurity is Not an Intellectual Virtue
Huge numbers of applications were written, and written badly, in fashionable and impenetrable jargon. The opacity of academic prose, much of it couched in unfathomable theory-speak (such as the prattled quote above), has long been the subject of discussion, and even mockery, much of it well deserved.
In some parts of the academy, such obscurantist writing is seen as a sign of brilliance, but that’s something I never understood. I suppose I’m very old-fashioned in believing that clear writing is the result of clear thought and that the use of jargon is sometimes the lazy way to avoid hard thinking. Whatever the cause, too many books and articles written by humanities professors are needlessly opaque. Moreover, great numbers of the applications I read dealt with amazingly tiny fragments of the applicants’ fields, a sort of atomization of inquiry.
Now, I am not against deep dives into seemingly arcane subjects. There was no more fervent defender and supporter of funds for The Comprehensive Aramaic Lexicon or The Sumerian Dictionary than I, because these seemingly obscure reference works advance and enrich our knowledge of their important subjects. The problem was, however, that many of the fellowship proposals asked for support for projects that did neither. They were simply frivolous and added no discernible value to their fields of study. Not all knowledge is equally useful; successful applications offered projects that were understandable and were likely to make an important impact on and contribution to humanities studies.
Equally disappointing was the fact that large numbers of applications stuck to the deeply grooved paths first trod by the postmodern humanities of the sixties and seventies. There was a uniformity, and conservatism, among them that indicated a lack of fresh thinking. Instead of advancing new ideas, such proposals left me with a feeling that their shelf lives had expired years before. Whatever their subjects, applicants often viewed their research exclusively through the same predictable lens of race, class, gender, theory, or some trivial aspects of popular culture. New and original approaches to the various areas of the humanities were all too rare.
Read the entire piece here.
New Evidence from the Tennessee and Georgia Resolutions and from Other States
ANELISE HANSON SHROUT
AMANDA C. DEMMER
MARY CARROLL JOHANSON
PAUL W. MAPP
ROBERT W. T. MARTIN
CHARLENE BOYER LEWIS
GABRIELLE M. LANIER
HOLLY M. KENT
BETH A. SALERNO
KARIANN AKEMI YOKOTA
John Lauritz Larson
Karim M. Tiro
Tonight my daughter and I drove past our local Planet Fitness. The parking lot was full. I imagine that January is a busy month at health clubs. I think it has something to do with New Year’s resolutions.
I imagine that some of our readers have made resolutions to start writing more consistently. I know I have had. Oxford University Press must have my American Bible Society book by May 1, 2015 in order for it to appear in time for the organization’s 200th anniversary in May 2016. I need to get moving.
Earlier today someone told me that his adviser–a very prominent Ivy League historian–once told him that scholarship is 10% intellectual and 90% hard work. There is some truth to this. All prolific scholars should have a regular writing schedule.
Tanya Golash-Boza, a sociology professor at University of California at Merced, knows this. Here is a taste of her Vitae essay: “The Trick to Being a Prolific Scholar.”
Read the rest here. And get to work.
|Richard Varick: President of ABS during 1st General Supply|
Want to get some context for this post? Click here.
It was a pretty quiet Friday at the American Bible Society (ABS). I finished my last day of my first summer 2014 stint in the archives here and it was a productive one. Thanks again to Mary Cordato and Kristin Hellman for making the ABS a great place to conduct research.
On Friday I worked my way through ABS Extracts published in the late 1820s and early 1830s. This was about the time of the ABS’s “General Supply.” Between 1829 and 1831 the Society attempted to give a Bible to every family and adult individual in the United States. It was an ambitious undertaking. I have been looking at the way the local auxiliaries and ABS field agents have been responding to this call. I have been uncovering a lot of good anecdotes and stories.
I have also been wrestling with the nature of the book I am writing . My original goal was to write a semi-scholarly/semi-popular history of the American Bible Society that was deeply grounded in the primary sources and informed by the best secondary literature in American religious history and other fields. I am enjoying my work on this project and wish I could spend more time on it. But, alas, I have agreed to deliver a book in time for the 200th anniversary of the ABS. With this in mind, I am just not sure I can deliver a book with the kind of depth and scholarly analysis I had originally planned.
This is a rather new kind of history writing. I am going to have to try to figure out how to write an institutional history in one year without sacrificing my own standards as a critical historian. I am not sure if this is possible. We will see what happens. This is going to take a lot of work over the course of the next year, but it is also a challenge I need right now.
As my readers know, on Sunday I participated in a session at the annual meeting of the Organization of American Historians entitled “Is Blogging Scholarship.” I blogged about the session here. You can also read Michael Hattem’s collection of tweets posted by those in attendance.
Today some of the bloggers from the session and those who followed the session via social media are writing about it. Here is what I have been able to find so far:
Ben Alpers summarizes his panel comments at U.S. Intellectual History.
Ann Little has posted her comments here.
Paul Harvey discusses the session at Religion in American History
I like what Joseph Adelman has to say here. (And thanks for the plug). A taste:
Other blogs don’t aim for “scholarship” in the narrowest sense (John Fea had interesting thoughts on how to construe the term) but do wonderful service to the profession by highlighting books of interest, topics that deserve coverage, and connecting history to the present. And some blogs do a little bit of everything. John Fea is my best example of this. In a single day, he will post interviews with authors and book reviews, highlights of research projects, notes about teaching, and Springsteen concert clips. Go ahead over and read The Way of Improvement Leads Home and then tell me how you’d classify it. I can’t—and I like it that way.
Michael O’Malley discussed the session and summarized his remarks at his excellent blog, The Aporetic.
And in case you were not in Atlanta, the OAH filmed the session. I imagine it will be appearing soon somewhere on the OAH website.
I hope you are still in Atlanta. If you are, I want to invite you to the 10:45 session: “Is Blogging Scholarship?” Historiann has already tipped her hand. I am holding my thoughts close to the vest. Not sure what O’Malley, Pasley, or Alpers will say. I hope to see you there.
Chair: Jeffrey Pasley (University of Missouri)
John Fea (Messiah College)
Ann Little (Colorado State University)
Michael O’ Malley (George Mason University)
Benjamin Alpers (University of Oklahoma)
Should be fun.
I will be live-tweeting the 9:00am session on the state of religion in American history. Stay tuned.
The annual meeting of the AHA just ended and I am now gearing up for the April meeting of the OAH–the Organization of American Historians. I will be presenting on Sunday morning from 10:45-12:15 on a panel called “Is Blogging Scholarship.” My co-panelists are Jeffrey Pasley (Publick Occurrences 2.0), Ann Little (Historiann), Michael O’Malley (The Aproetic), and Benjamin Alpers (U.S. Intellectual History).
I just received my program in the mail today and jotted down a few sessions that caught my eye. Here they are:
“The Boston Tea Party: The Most Dangerous Memory of the Revolution” (Benjamin Carp, Barbara Clark Smith, Nathaniel Sheidley, and Ron Formisano)
“To Begin the World Over Again: The Life of Thomas Paine” (Written and performed by Ian Ruskin)
“Internationalizing American History: Assessment and Future Directions” (David Engerman, Thomas Bender, Jane Kamensky, Kristin Hoganson, Judy Tzu-Chun Wu, Johann Neem, and Kiran Klaus Patel)
“Crossing the Boundary Between Academic and Public Practice” (Patricia Limerick, Alea Henle, Cindy Ott, Sarah Keyes, and Patrick Blythe)
“Rebellion and Revolution in the War of Independence: Occupation and the Civilian-Military Borderland” (Caroline Cox, Jessica Choppin Roney, John Roche, Aaron Sullivan, and Emily Merrill)
“State of the Field: American Popular Culture” (Jackson Lears, Lauren Sklaroff, Burton Peretti, and Jefferson Cowie)
“Religion and Transatlantic Print Culture in the Early Republic” (Jonathan Den Hartog, Lily Santoro, Ashley Moreshead)
“Writing Religious Lives” (Rachel Wheeler, Richard Pointer, Anna Lawrence, Joshua Paddison, and John Hayes)
“The Scholarship and Legacy of Eugene Genovese” (John Boles, Stephanie McCurry, Julie Sayville, Jon Wakelyn, and Robin Blackburn)
“The State of the Field: The Trans-Atlantic Enlightenment in America” (Rosemarie Zagarri, Joyce Chaplin, Sarah Knott, Michael Meranze, Jason Opal, Jose Torre, and Caroline Winterer)
“Historians and Their Publics” (Alan Kraut, Spencer Crew, Jill Lepore, Sean Wilentz, and Shola Lynch)
“New Knowledge in Old Containers: How Early Republic Scholars Are Changing The Story” (John Larson, Patricia Cohen, Andrew Cayton, Harry Watson, and Mary Kelley)
“Beyond Coverage: Toward a Signature Pedagogy for History Survey Courses” (Lendol Calder, Laura Baker, Keith Erekson, Laura Westhoff, Joel Sipress, David Voelker, and Nikki Mandell)
“The Legacy of Edmund S. Morgan” (Craig Yirush, Richard Godbeer, Barbara Oberg, David Waldstreicher, and Michael Winship)
“State of the Field: Religion in American History” (Jon Butler, Wallace Best, Susan Juster, Kathryn Lofton, Kevin Schultz, Sarah Barringer Gordon)
“Educating Future History Teachers: Models of University and High School Collaboration” (Betty Dessants, Billie Jean Clemens, Linda Sargent Wood, Wilson Warren, Mary Ella Engel)
See you in Atlanta!
J19 is the name of a new journal published by the University of Pennsylvania Press. It is the official publication of C19: The Society of Nineteenth-Century Americanists. The journal will be published twice annually and will be dedicated to “publishing research on and analysis of the “long nineteenth century: (1783-1914).
Read more about it here.
Mark Goodacre calls our attention to an article in the peer-reviewed, Journal of Theological Studies that offers a “detailed critique” of one of his blog posts. The article provides an opportunity for Goodacre to reflect on the relationship between blogging and scholarship–a hot topic these days among academic bloggers. (In fact, I will be on a panel on this very topic next Spring at the annual meeting of the Organization of American Historians). Here is a taste of Goodacre’s reflection:
I will confess to mixed feelings. On one level, I am really flattered that Foster, and the editors of JTS, regarded my blog post of sufficient merit to warrant an extended response, and I am grateful to them, I think, for noticing my blog and regarding it so highly. On another level, I have to admit that it makes me slightly uneasy to see my random jottings here subjected to the same kind of detailed critique that one would normally reserve for scholarly books and peer-reviewed articles.
The difficulty in part may be that there is not really any established etiquette for this kind of thing. Blogs and the blogging phenomenon are still pretty young, and we don’t really know yet how they should fit into the scholarly landscape. Should we treat them like casual academic gossip, a kind of online senior common room, or is every post fair game for a full, formal response in a peer-reviewed journal?
One thing that focuses the discussion for me is to compare the status of the blog post with the status of the academic conference paper. Many scholars add a kind of rider to their conference papers, “Work in progress; not to be cited” and so on. The point there is that conference papers are for discussion at conferences but not (yet) in formal publications. I think I see something similar for blog sketches like mine — it will, I hope, eventually make its way to publication, but it does not yet have that kind of status. Indeed, in the case in question, I did subsequently present the idea in a conference paper (International SBL, London, 2011), which will form the basis of a future formal publication.
For me, the blog is something more informal, more chatty than the published paper. I write differently here from the way that I write in peer-reviewed articles. My tone is much more colloquial….
Read the rest, along with the 43 comments, here. I tend to agree with Mark here.
One of the books I hope to read this year is Robert Townsend’s History’s Babel: Scholarship, Professionalization, and the Historical Enterprise in the United States, 1880-1940 (University of Chicago Press). For those of you who are unfamiliar with Townsend, he is the deputy director of the American Historical Association. He is also the guy who writes all of those reports on the state of the profession and the history job market.
Over at Inside Higher Ed, Serena Golden asks Townsend a few questions about his new book. Here is a taste of that interview:
Q: What does it mean to say that “[f]ollowing World War II, the historical enterprise was irrevocably broken”? What was the cause, and what were the results?
A: In the late 19th and early 20th century, leaders of the discipline engaged quite broadly with the various activities of history, taking a direct part in the development of professional and content standards for the schools and the gathering of historical materials. At the same time, high school teachers, leaders of historical societies, and librarians could all rise to prominent positions within the AHA. By the 1940s, however, the various spheres of historical activity had broken off into separate spheres, each with their own distinct professional structures and idioms, leaving the AHA as the province of self-defined “research men.”
The net result is not entirely negative, as the professionalization of most aspects of history led to significant improvements in the way history is taught and historical records are maintained and made available to the public. Nevertheless, the differences often generate friction across the various areas of history work when we could potentially work collaboratively. As a result, the academics are often viewed as an object of scorn for many who perceive themselves as excluded, and academics find they have little standing to intervene in questions that closely affect the public’s window into the discipline, such as teaching of history at the K-12 level and the presentation of history in a variety of cultural institutions.
Q: “It is too late to try to reconstruct a historical enterprise, but there is still time to bring the sundered pieces back together in more active conversation and collaboration with each other.” What might that entail?
A: The book developed out of an effort to explain why and how the professional divisions built up over many decades, which can make it so difficult to come together in a spirit of mutual understanding and respect to address growing challenges to our role in public life and the financial resources necessary for that work. While those in the academic wing of the history discipline can bring substantial content knowledge to the table, they often seem to forget that their potential collaborators bring a significant amount of training and wisdom about their areas of work. As a result, I’ve been involved in a number of projects that foundered on the academics’ failure to appreciate others professional expertise, and a purist view of the way knowledge about their subject should be shaped and delivered. When these sorts of projects work well, the academics and other history professionals work with a clear understanding about the limits of our respective areas of expertise, and a willingness to work through differences about the way a particular piece of historical information may need to be organized or even simplified for different constituencies and audiences. To try to open a better foundation for that kind of discussion, I tried to show how the refinement of particular areas of expertise benefited the discipline, but also made it increasingly difficult to speak across professional lines.
According to this survey by the American Historical Association, historians pursuing tenure and promotion at bachelor’s institutions are judged very heavily on scholarship and “research output.”
87% of the 2440 full and associate history professors at baccalaureate colleges surveyed said that teaching was “highly valued.” 28.8% of history professors at research universities said that teaching was “highly valued.” This, of course, should be expected. Faculty at research universities have lighter teaching loads and are required to produce original research, while historians at teaching institutions need to be able to teach effectively.
In the same survey, 84.6% of research university professors said that print monographs were “highly valued,” but so did 61.1% of history professors at bachelor’s institutions.
On average, research universities require 1.3 monographs and 7.3 peer reviewed articles for promotion to associate professor. Bachelor’s institutions require 1 monograph and 3.8 peer-reviewed articles for promotion to associate professor.
What does this mean? It would appear that baccalaureate institutions place more demands on their faculty. They have to be effective teachers and produce a significant amount of scholarship.
Check out yesterday’s Inside Higher Ed for a full report on this AHA survey. It also has some revealing things to say about digital history and the job market.