[A guest post-inquiry from Neil B. Miller, Ph.D., Independent Scholar]
I am in the middle of reading the English language translation of Jürgen Habermas' early work, Legitimation Crisis, for theoretical insights applicable to my current research into the transformations of New England print culture and the public sphere associated with the first Unitarian Controversy, an early 19th-century theological and ideological dispute between orthodox or moderate Calvinist ministers like Jedidiah Morse and Lyman Beecher, and Boston Liberals or Unitarians like William Ellery Channing and Andrews Norton. The connection between Boston's Harvard-educated Unitarian ministry and the city's oligarchy of intermarried mercantile and business elites is well documented, as is the Unitarians' social, philanthropic, and political conservatism. Less well known, and the subject of my research, is a contestation between the moderate Calvinists and Unitiarians, that occurred within New England Federalism, over the social role of the press, the involvement of ordinary citizens in public discourse, and the cultural authority of public opinion, as well as over a corporatist versus a liberal capitalist understanding of the print marketplace. My hypothesis, which so far seems supported by the text, is that this aspect of the controversy can be understood as a legitimation crisis of established social norms related to New England's economic transformation to a liberal capitalist society.
My reading of the text, however, has produced numerous questions. First, it is not clear to me on a first reading whether Habermas is seeking fundamentally to discredit structural-functionalism and systems theory, or whether he also is relying in part on structural-functionalism and/or systems theory to develop his ideas about communicative rationality. I am similarly unclear whether there is a positivistic element or ambivalence in Habermas' writing, as he seems to criticize positivism while relying on a progressive theory of social evolution that moves from primitive to traditional, liberal capitalist and advanced capitalist societies. This is also an early work in Habermas' enormous corpus, so it would be helpful to know if Habermas substantially revises any of the ideas developed in Legitimation Crisis in later writings, or if any other social philosophers or theorists have criticized Habermas' analysis of legitimation crises, especially if they deal specifically with crises within traditional or liberal capitalist societies.
Second, I can think of few recent examples in which American intellectual historians specifically, or Americanists generally, have made use of Habermas' writings, other than of his earliest work The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. I would be very appreciative if members of the USIH community would provide references to essays or texts in which intellectual historians or historians working in other fields (as opposed to non-historians like Seyla Benhabib working in the field of communicative ethics), have incorporated Habermas' ideas into their research, especially his ideas about legitimation crises. More broadly, I would welcome comments on why Habermas' writings seem largely to have been ignored by American historians. In light of the nation's current economic crisis, both his sophisticated critical theorizing on the crises of advanced capitalist societies and his commitment to social science as a radical emancipatory project, seem deserving of greater consideration.
Sincerely,
Neil Miller
Senin, 30 November 2009
Habermas' Legitimation Crisis and Critical Intellectual History
[A guest post-inquiry from Neil B. Miller, Ph.D., Independent Scholar]
I am in the middle of reading the English language translation of Jürgen Habermas' early work, Legitimation Crisis, for theoretical insights applicable to my current research into the transformations of New England print culture and the public sphere associated with the first Unitarian Controversy, an early 19th-century theological and ideological dispute between orthodox or moderate Calvinist ministers like Jedidiah Morse and Lyman Beecher, and Boston Liberals or Unitarians like William Ellery Channing and Andrews Norton. The connection between Boston's Harvard-educated Unitarian ministry and the city's oligarchy of intermarried mercantile and business elites is well documented, as is the Unitarians' social, philanthropic, and political conservatism. Less well known, and the subject of my research, is a contestation between the moderate Calvinists and Unitiarians, that occurred within New England Federalism, over the social role of the press, the involvement of ordinary citizens in public discourse, and the cultural authority of public opinion, as well as over a corporatist versus a liberal capitalist understanding of the print marketplace. My hypothesis, which so far seems supported by the text, is that this aspect of the controversy can be understood as a legitimation crisis of established social norms related to New England's economic transformation to a liberal capitalist society.
My reading of the text, however, has produced numerous questions. First, it is not clear to me on a first reading whether Habermas is seeking fundamentally to discredit structural-functionalism and systems theory, or whether he also is relying in part on structural-functionalism and/or systems theory to develop his ideas about communicative rationality. I am similarly unclear whether there is a positivistic element or ambivalence in Habermas' writing, as he seems to criticize positivism while relying on a progressive theory of social evolution that moves from primitive to traditional, liberal capitalist and advanced capitalist societies. This is also an early work in Habermas' enormous corpus, so it would be helpful to know if Habermas substantially revises any of the ideas developed in Legitimation Crisis in later writings, or if any other social philosophers or theorists have criticized Habermas' analysis of legitimation crises, especially if they deal specifically with crises within traditional or liberal capitalist societies.
Second, I can think of few recent examples in which American intellectual historians specifically, or Americanists generally, have made use of Habermas' writings, other than of his earliest work The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. I would be very appreciative if members of the USIH community would provide references to essays or texts in which intellectual historians or historians working in other fields (as opposed to non-historians like Seyla Benhabib working in the field of communicative ethics), have incorporated Habermas' ideas into their research, especially his ideas about legitimation crises. More broadly, I would welcome comments on why Habermas' writings seem largely to have been ignored by American historians. In light of the nation's current economic crisis, both his sophisticated critical theorizing on the crises of advanced capitalist societies and his commitment to social science as a radical emancipatory project, seem deserving of greater consideration.
Sincerely,
Neil Miller
I am in the middle of reading the English language translation of Jürgen Habermas' early work, Legitimation Crisis, for theoretical insights applicable to my current research into the transformations of New England print culture and the public sphere associated with the first Unitarian Controversy, an early 19th-century theological and ideological dispute between orthodox or moderate Calvinist ministers like Jedidiah Morse and Lyman Beecher, and Boston Liberals or Unitarians like William Ellery Channing and Andrews Norton. The connection between Boston's Harvard-educated Unitarian ministry and the city's oligarchy of intermarried mercantile and business elites is well documented, as is the Unitarians' social, philanthropic, and political conservatism. Less well known, and the subject of my research, is a contestation between the moderate Calvinists and Unitiarians, that occurred within New England Federalism, over the social role of the press, the involvement of ordinary citizens in public discourse, and the cultural authority of public opinion, as well as over a corporatist versus a liberal capitalist understanding of the print marketplace. My hypothesis, which so far seems supported by the text, is that this aspect of the controversy can be understood as a legitimation crisis of established social norms related to New England's economic transformation to a liberal capitalist society.
My reading of the text, however, has produced numerous questions. First, it is not clear to me on a first reading whether Habermas is seeking fundamentally to discredit structural-functionalism and systems theory, or whether he also is relying in part on structural-functionalism and/or systems theory to develop his ideas about communicative rationality. I am similarly unclear whether there is a positivistic element or ambivalence in Habermas' writing, as he seems to criticize positivism while relying on a progressive theory of social evolution that moves from primitive to traditional, liberal capitalist and advanced capitalist societies. This is also an early work in Habermas' enormous corpus, so it would be helpful to know if Habermas substantially revises any of the ideas developed in Legitimation Crisis in later writings, or if any other social philosophers or theorists have criticized Habermas' analysis of legitimation crises, especially if they deal specifically with crises within traditional or liberal capitalist societies.
Second, I can think of few recent examples in which American intellectual historians specifically, or Americanists generally, have made use of Habermas' writings, other than of his earliest work The Structural Transformation of the Public Sphere. I would be very appreciative if members of the USIH community would provide references to essays or texts in which intellectual historians or historians working in other fields (as opposed to non-historians like Seyla Benhabib working in the field of communicative ethics), have incorporated Habermas' ideas into their research, especially his ideas about legitimation crises. More broadly, I would welcome comments on why Habermas' writings seem largely to have been ignored by American historians. In light of the nation's current economic crisis, both his sophisticated critical theorizing on the crises of advanced capitalist societies and his commitment to social science as a radical emancipatory project, seem deserving of greater consideration.
Sincerely,
Neil Miller
Minggu, 29 November 2009
interesting tidbit
To the extent that a field is defined by job postings, I find this advertisement fascinating:
US History/Cultural History. The Department of History at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point seeks applications for a tenure track, assistant professorship in the field of US History with a specialization in US Cultural History. The ability to teach courses in one or more of the following Cultural History areas is highly desirable: American West, borderlands, military, intellectual. The successful candidate will be expected to teach ....
interesting tidbit
To the extent that a field is defined by job postings, I find this advertisement fascinating:
US History/Cultural History. The Department of History at the University of Wisconsin-Stevens Point seeks applications for a tenure track, assistant professorship in the field of US History with a specialization in US Cultural History. The ability to teach courses in one or more of the following Cultural History areas is highly desirable: American West, borderlands, military, intellectual. The successful candidate will be expected to teach ....
Rabu, 25 November 2009
Tim's Light Reading (11/25/2009)
1. Christopher Hitchens dissects the anti-intellectualism that surrounds Sarah Palin---I'm no general fan of Hitchens but he points to a number of inexplicable intellectual contradictions surrounding last year's flavor of a few months.
2. The Fears And Hopes of 1958's Intellectuals---Courtesy of the University of Chicago's Law School, the concerns and thoughts of some of 1958's more eminent intellectuals were preserved in a time capsule. Opened a year and one-half late, the capsule contains letters from: Jacques Maritain; Carl Friedrich; Edward Teller; Justice William J. Brennan, Jr.; and several other Supreme Court Justices. There is a slideshow highlights the opening and some of the contents---as well as conservators in action!
3. A Misleading AP Headline? This AP article sells itself as follows: "Bishops discuss authority over Catholic colleges." I have been trying to decide whether the lead is sensational. My academic and Catholic reading glasses say yes. I mean, what academic wouldn't cringe at the thought of a bishop controlling the work of her/his college? But is this what the article's author, Rachel Zoll, intended or meant? The content gives mixed messages (underscores mine):
---Exhibit A: "Chicago Cardinal Francis George, president of the bishops' conference, revealed this week that he had formed a task force charged with reviewing the issue. Its research included a look at what church law says about bishops' authority over the schools."
---Exhibit B: "George said the issue would be taken up at the meeting as part of a broader look at what groups can legitimately call themselves Catholic. 'If those relationships — which don't mean control, they mean relationship — are now weakened, then we have to think of ways to enter discussion in order to strengthen them, and to redefine perhaps what are the criteria for a university or any other organization to consider itself Catholic,' George said in an interview ahead of this week's meeting."
So, it seems to be more about identity than control. But hasn't this issue been in the news for 10-20 years or more? Because it has, I suppose we now need the twist of control and authoritarian bishops to draw us in? Or has identity morphed into different story in light of the recent actions of bishops (e.g. protests over Obama at Notre Dame)? Even so, I don't think this is a case of twenty-first century anti-Catholicism, per the recent musings of New York's Bishop Timothy Dolan. But is this headline about changing views of the bishops, or does it have something to do with competition between old and new media. Perhaps AP is feeling some pressure to sensationalize? Or maybe my knowledge of the history of Catholicism is clouding my reading of the story?
4. Messiah College's John Fea Reflects on what Messiah Students would give up for an iPhone: No, this is not a sensationalist headline. I don't want to give away Fea's story, but I'll tease you with his conclusion: "In the end, those who fear that Christian college students are mounting some sort of assault to overtake the country with their Christian ideals, political virtue or spiritually-inspired disinterestedness seem to have little to worry about."
5. The Varieties of Public Intellectualism: This post by my friend Michael Kramer, particularly subpoint (3), touches on a number of conceptual issues that will be of interest to those working on the history of public intellectuals.
6. Grover Krantz, His Dog Clyde, Bigfoot, and Remembering Public Intellectuals: One of our faithful readers, Samuel Redman, a history graduate student at Berkeley, meditates in this post on Grover Krantz's place in America's pantheon of public intellectuals. According Krantz's autobiography, Only a Dog, Clyde saved Krantz's career and personal life. This is why they are exhibited together at the Smithsonian. Krantz made some recognizable contributions to late twentieth-century anthropology. But Redman fears we historians will only remember Krantz's relationship with Clyde and Krantz's belief in the existence of Bigfoot (Krantz being one of the few professionals who did not disavow that mountain legend). Perhaps. I can't reassure him too much on that account, but who kid resist a Bigfoot hook, at least, to draw a few readers in?! - TL
2. The Fears And Hopes of 1958's Intellectuals---Courtesy of the University of Chicago's Law School, the concerns and thoughts of some of 1958's more eminent intellectuals were preserved in a time capsule. Opened a year and one-half late, the capsule contains letters from: Jacques Maritain; Carl Friedrich; Edward Teller; Justice William J. Brennan, Jr.; and several other Supreme Court Justices. There is a slideshow highlights the opening and some of the contents---as well as conservators in action!
3. A Misleading AP Headline? This AP article sells itself as follows: "Bishops discuss authority over Catholic colleges." I have been trying to decide whether the lead is sensational. My academic and Catholic reading glasses say yes. I mean, what academic wouldn't cringe at the thought of a bishop controlling the work of her/his college? But is this what the article's author, Rachel Zoll, intended or meant? The content gives mixed messages (underscores mine):
---Exhibit A: "Chicago Cardinal Francis George, president of the bishops' conference, revealed this week that he had formed a task force charged with reviewing the issue. Its research included a look at what church law says about bishops' authority over the schools."
---Exhibit B: "George said the issue would be taken up at the meeting as part of a broader look at what groups can legitimately call themselves Catholic. 'If those relationships — which don't mean control, they mean relationship — are now weakened, then we have to think of ways to enter discussion in order to strengthen them, and to redefine perhaps what are the criteria for a university or any other organization to consider itself Catholic,' George said in an interview ahead of this week's meeting."
So, it seems to be more about identity than control. But hasn't this issue been in the news for 10-20 years or more? Because it has, I suppose we now need the twist of control and authoritarian bishops to draw us in? Or has identity morphed into different story in light of the recent actions of bishops (e.g. protests over Obama at Notre Dame)? Even so, I don't think this is a case of twenty-first century anti-Catholicism, per the recent musings of New York's Bishop Timothy Dolan. But is this headline about changing views of the bishops, or does it have something to do with competition between old and new media. Perhaps AP is feeling some pressure to sensationalize? Or maybe my knowledge of the history of Catholicism is clouding my reading of the story?
4. Messiah College's John Fea Reflects on what Messiah Students would give up for an iPhone: No, this is not a sensationalist headline. I don't want to give away Fea's story, but I'll tease you with his conclusion: "In the end, those who fear that Christian college students are mounting some sort of assault to overtake the country with their Christian ideals, political virtue or spiritually-inspired disinterestedness seem to have little to worry about."
5. The Varieties of Public Intellectualism: This post by my friend Michael Kramer, particularly subpoint (3), touches on a number of conceptual issues that will be of interest to those working on the history of public intellectuals.
6. Grover Krantz, His Dog Clyde, Bigfoot, and Remembering Public Intellectuals: One of our faithful readers, Samuel Redman, a history graduate student at Berkeley, meditates in this post on Grover Krantz's place in America's pantheon of public intellectuals. According Krantz's autobiography, Only a Dog, Clyde saved Krantz's career and personal life. This is why they are exhibited together at the Smithsonian. Krantz made some recognizable contributions to late twentieth-century anthropology. But Redman fears we historians will only remember Krantz's relationship with Clyde and Krantz's belief in the existence of Bigfoot (Krantz being one of the few professionals who did not disavow that mountain legend). Perhaps. I can't reassure him too much on that account, but who kid resist a Bigfoot hook, at least, to draw a few readers in?! - TL
Tim's Light Reading (11/25/2009)
1. Christopher Hitchens dissects the anti-intellectualism that surrounds Sarah Palin---I'm no general fan of Hitchens but he points to a number of inexplicable intellectual contradictions surrounding last year's flavor of a few months.
2. The Fears And Hopes of 1958's Intellectuals---Courtesy of the University of Chicago's Law School, the concerns and thoughts of some of 1958's more eminent intellectuals were preserved in a time capsule. Opened a year and one-half late, the capsule contains letters from: Jacques Maritain; Carl Friedrich; Edward Teller; Justice William J. Brennan, Jr.; and several other Supreme Court Justices. There is a slideshow highlights the opening and some of the contents---as well as conservators in action!
3. A Misleading AP Headline? This AP article sells itself as follows: "Bishops discuss authority over Catholic colleges." I have been trying to decide whether the lead is sensational. My academic and Catholic reading glasses say yes. I mean, what academic wouldn't cringe at the thought of a bishop controlling the work of her/his college? But is this what the article's author, Rachel Zoll, intended or meant? The content gives mixed messages (underscores mine):
---Exhibit A: "Chicago Cardinal Francis George, president of the bishops' conference, revealed this week that he had formed a task force charged with reviewing the issue. Its research included a look at what church law says about bishops' authority over the schools."
---Exhibit B: "George said the issue would be taken up at the meeting as part of a broader look at what groups can legitimately call themselves Catholic. 'If those relationships — which don't mean control, they mean relationship — are now weakened, then we have to think of ways to enter discussion in order to strengthen them, and to redefine perhaps what are the criteria for a university or any other organization to consider itself Catholic,' George said in an interview ahead of this week's meeting."
So, it seems to be more about identity than control. But hasn't this issue been in the news for 10-20 years or more? Because it has, I suppose we now need the twist of control and authoritarian bishops to draw us in? Or has identity morphed into different story in light of the recent actions of bishops (e.g. protests over Obama at Notre Dame)? Even so, I don't think this is a case of twenty-first century anti-Catholicism, per the recent musings of New York's Bishop Timothy Dolan. But is this headline about changing views of the bishops, or does it have something to do with competition between old and new media. Perhaps AP is feeling some pressure to sensationalize? Or maybe my knowledge of the history of Catholicism is clouding my reading of the story?
4. Messiah College's John Fea Reflects on what Messiah Students would give up for an iPhone: No, this is not a sensationalist headline. I don't want to give away Fea's story, but I'll tease you with his conclusion: "In the end, those who fear that Christian college students are mounting some sort of assault to overtake the country with their Christian ideals, political virtue or spiritually-inspired disinterestedness seem to have little to worry about."
5. The Varieties of Public Intellectualism: This post by my friend Michael Kramer, particularly subpoint (3), touches on a number of conceptual issues that will be of interest to those working on the history of public intellectuals.
6. Grover Krantz, His Dog Clyde, Bigfoot, and Remembering Public Intellectuals: One of our faithful readers, Samuel Redman, a history graduate student at Berkeley, meditates in this post on Grover Krantz's place in America's pantheon of public intellectuals. According Krantz's autobiography, Only a Dog, Clyde saved Krantz's career and personal life. This is why they are exhibited together at the Smithsonian. Krantz made some recognizable contributions to late twentieth-century anthropology. But Redman fears we historians will only remember Krantz's relationship with Clyde and Krantz's belief in the existence of Bigfoot (Krantz being one of the few professionals who did not disavow that mountain legend). Perhaps. I can't reassure him too much on that account, but who kid resist a Bigfoot hook, at least, to draw a few readers in?! - TL
2. The Fears And Hopes of 1958's Intellectuals---Courtesy of the University of Chicago's Law School, the concerns and thoughts of some of 1958's more eminent intellectuals were preserved in a time capsule. Opened a year and one-half late, the capsule contains letters from: Jacques Maritain; Carl Friedrich; Edward Teller; Justice William J. Brennan, Jr.; and several other Supreme Court Justices. There is a slideshow highlights the opening and some of the contents---as well as conservators in action!
3. A Misleading AP Headline? This AP article sells itself as follows: "Bishops discuss authority over Catholic colleges." I have been trying to decide whether the lead is sensational. My academic and Catholic reading glasses say yes. I mean, what academic wouldn't cringe at the thought of a bishop controlling the work of her/his college? But is this what the article's author, Rachel Zoll, intended or meant? The content gives mixed messages (underscores mine):
---Exhibit A: "Chicago Cardinal Francis George, president of the bishops' conference, revealed this week that he had formed a task force charged with reviewing the issue. Its research included a look at what church law says about bishops' authority over the schools."
---Exhibit B: "George said the issue would be taken up at the meeting as part of a broader look at what groups can legitimately call themselves Catholic. 'If those relationships — which don't mean control, they mean relationship — are now weakened, then we have to think of ways to enter discussion in order to strengthen them, and to redefine perhaps what are the criteria for a university or any other organization to consider itself Catholic,' George said in an interview ahead of this week's meeting."
So, it seems to be more about identity than control. But hasn't this issue been in the news for 10-20 years or more? Because it has, I suppose we now need the twist of control and authoritarian bishops to draw us in? Or has identity morphed into different story in light of the recent actions of bishops (e.g. protests over Obama at Notre Dame)? Even so, I don't think this is a case of twenty-first century anti-Catholicism, per the recent musings of New York's Bishop Timothy Dolan. But is this headline about changing views of the bishops, or does it have something to do with competition between old and new media. Perhaps AP is feeling some pressure to sensationalize? Or maybe my knowledge of the history of Catholicism is clouding my reading of the story?
4. Messiah College's John Fea Reflects on what Messiah Students would give up for an iPhone: No, this is not a sensationalist headline. I don't want to give away Fea's story, but I'll tease you with his conclusion: "In the end, those who fear that Christian college students are mounting some sort of assault to overtake the country with their Christian ideals, political virtue or spiritually-inspired disinterestedness seem to have little to worry about."
5. The Varieties of Public Intellectualism: This post by my friend Michael Kramer, particularly subpoint (3), touches on a number of conceptual issues that will be of interest to those working on the history of public intellectuals.
6. Grover Krantz, His Dog Clyde, Bigfoot, and Remembering Public Intellectuals: One of our faithful readers, Samuel Redman, a history graduate student at Berkeley, meditates in this post on Grover Krantz's place in America's pantheon of public intellectuals. According Krantz's autobiography, Only a Dog, Clyde saved Krantz's career and personal life. This is why they are exhibited together at the Smithsonian. Krantz made some recognizable contributions to late twentieth-century anthropology. But Redman fears we historians will only remember Krantz's relationship with Clyde and Krantz's belief in the existence of Bigfoot (Krantz being one of the few professionals who did not disavow that mountain legend). Perhaps. I can't reassure him too much on that account, but who kid resist a Bigfoot hook, at least, to draw a few readers in?! - TL
Selasa, 24 November 2009
A Late Report from USIH 2009
I am a bit late—coming near two weeks after the conference, but I wanted to offer a brief report on some of the panels I saw. Time precludes attention to all the fine papers I heard, for I attended four panels and the two plenary discussions. So let me focus on one panel, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America,” a late Friday entry with a sparse audience (it deserved more) with a few darting glances at the previous panels.
First, the darting references: The range of work at the conference was wide: On a panel treating figures diverse as the historian Walter LaFeber and the 1960s activists and journalists David Horowitz and Todd Gitlin (by the way, Gitlin was in the audience, as was Eric Alterman, making for a lively discussion, especially regarding the intellectual merits and essential epistemology of Horowitz), Greg Sumner of the University of Detroit Mercy presented a paper on Kurt Vonnegut, attempting to redeem him from the intellectual ghetto in which he resides (too 1960s, for adolescents and near adolescents but not mature readers). Sumner finds in Vonnegut a decidedly pre-1960s and Midwestern (Vonnegut was from Indianapolis) corny patriotism and humanism, best exemplified by the character Edgar Derby in Slaughterhouse 5. I am not sure the free-thinking, socialist, if patriotic Vonnegut really represents the Midwestern ethos, but Sumner’s larger project of reclaiming Vonnegut through a close analysis of his novels seems fascinating. Likewise, in a panel on Cold War culture, Peter Aigner of CUNY made the case – quite convincingly – that the New Leader is an organ of mid-century New York intellectualism that has too long been ignored. Kathleen Brennan, also of CUNY, convinced me that the turn-of-the-century museum specialist and archaeologist Henry Chapman Mercer developed a species of antimodernism that might well have proffered a more useful adaptation and integration of the past with an ever-changing, machine-age present than most (including the Southern Agrarians, whom I have studied too much).
But, on to the main panel for discussion, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America”: As the commentator Elizabeth Lasch-Quinn observed, psychology gained a monopoly in twentieth-century American society both on diagnosing problems and providing the answers. Their power of definition became all-important. In this way, psychology has colonized life-space (an intriguing phrase). Susan Lanzoni of MIT gave a fascinating paper on the legacy in America of nineteenth-century German aesthetics oriented around the concept of Einfühling, or “feeling into.” The term was translated as “empathy” by the English psychologist Edward Titchener (who thus coined that all-important English term) and inspired folks like June Downey and Herbert Sydney Langfeld in America to do all sorts of fascinating (and downright entertaining) experiments on the individual perception of feeling and emotion in art, both with mind and body. Robert Genter, now teaching at Nassau Community College, traced the roots of the psychological analysis of political “pathology”—a phenomenon so characteristic of postwar America—to the 1920s imperative towards scientism in the social sciences and the deeply felt need for a reliable analysis of personality as a safeguard for modern democracy. Harold Lasswell crucially connects this 1920s project with the postwar world through his pathbreaking analysis of psychopathology and politics. Lasswell seems to have wanted candidates for political office to be psychoanalyzed: What might this have produced? Theodore Wisniewski of Simon Fraser University argued that B. F. Skinner and Carl Rogers had more in common than we (or they) might have believed. Despite the differences between the behaviorism of Skinner and the humanistic psychology of Rogers (which eventually fed into theories of client-centered therapy and self-actualization) both were essentially engaged in hashing out what Wisniewski considers an essential problem of American liberalism—the perennial realization of individual vulnerability in a society constructed around individual responsibility and initiative. He also claimed that both men deeply engaged Emerson and Thoreau and both had similar concerns and sympathies (e.g., with communes) in the 1960s.
One of the goals of USIH is, I think, to expand the conversation about American intellectual history beyond the narrow confines of the history discipline, and here we had a good example of it. As Lasch-Quinn observed in her final comment, intellectual historians need to seek out all those like-minded scholars around the university, whether in psychology, sociology, philosophy, or other disciplines—who are pursuing similar projects and engage them in dialogue.
First, the darting references: The range of work at the conference was wide: On a panel treating figures diverse as the historian Walter LaFeber and the 1960s activists and journalists David Horowitz and Todd Gitlin (by the way, Gitlin was in the audience, as was Eric Alterman, making for a lively discussion, especially regarding the intellectual merits and essential epistemology of Horowitz), Greg Sumner of the University of Detroit Mercy presented a paper on Kurt Vonnegut, attempting to redeem him from the intellectual ghetto in which he resides (too 1960s, for adolescents and near adolescents but not mature readers). Sumner finds in Vonnegut a decidedly pre-1960s and Midwestern (Vonnegut was from Indianapolis) corny patriotism and humanism, best exemplified by the character Edgar Derby in Slaughterhouse 5. I am not sure the free-thinking, socialist, if patriotic Vonnegut really represents the Midwestern ethos, but Sumner’s larger project of reclaiming Vonnegut through a close analysis of his novels seems fascinating. Likewise, in a panel on Cold War culture, Peter Aigner of CUNY made the case – quite convincingly – that the New Leader is an organ of mid-century New York intellectualism that has too long been ignored. Kathleen Brennan, also of CUNY, convinced me that the turn-of-the-century museum specialist and archaeologist Henry Chapman Mercer developed a species of antimodernism that might well have proffered a more useful adaptation and integration of the past with an ever-changing, machine-age present than most (including the Southern Agrarians, whom I have studied too much).
But, on to the main panel for discussion, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America”: As the commentator Elizabeth Lasch-Quinn observed, psychology gained a monopoly in twentieth-century American society both on diagnosing problems and providing the answers. Their power of definition became all-important. In this way, psychology has colonized life-space (an intriguing phrase). Susan Lanzoni of MIT gave a fascinating paper on the legacy in America of nineteenth-century German aesthetics oriented around the concept of Einfühling, or “feeling into.” The term was translated as “empathy” by the English psychologist Edward Titchener (who thus coined that all-important English term) and inspired folks like June Downey and Herbert Sydney Langfeld in America to do all sorts of fascinating (and downright entertaining) experiments on the individual perception of feeling and emotion in art, both with mind and body. Robert Genter, now teaching at Nassau Community College, traced the roots of the psychological analysis of political “pathology”—a phenomenon so characteristic of postwar America—to the 1920s imperative towards scientism in the social sciences and the deeply felt need for a reliable analysis of personality as a safeguard for modern democracy. Harold Lasswell crucially connects this 1920s project with the postwar world through his pathbreaking analysis of psychopathology and politics. Lasswell seems to have wanted candidates for political office to be psychoanalyzed: What might this have produced? Theodore Wisniewski of Simon Fraser University argued that B. F. Skinner and Carl Rogers had more in common than we (or they) might have believed. Despite the differences between the behaviorism of Skinner and the humanistic psychology of Rogers (which eventually fed into theories of client-centered therapy and self-actualization) both were essentially engaged in hashing out what Wisniewski considers an essential problem of American liberalism—the perennial realization of individual vulnerability in a society constructed around individual responsibility and initiative. He also claimed that both men deeply engaged Emerson and Thoreau and both had similar concerns and sympathies (e.g., with communes) in the 1960s.
One of the goals of USIH is, I think, to expand the conversation about American intellectual history beyond the narrow confines of the history discipline, and here we had a good example of it. As Lasch-Quinn observed in her final comment, intellectual historians need to seek out all those like-minded scholars around the university, whether in psychology, sociology, philosophy, or other disciplines—who are pursuing similar projects and engage them in dialogue.
A Late Report from USIH 2009
I am a bit late—coming near two weeks after the conference, but I wanted to offer a brief report on some of the panels I saw. Time precludes attention to all the fine papers I heard, for I attended four panels and the two plenary discussions. So let me focus on one panel, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America,” a late Friday entry with a sparse audience (it deserved more) with a few darting glances at the previous panels.
First, the darting references: The range of work at the conference was wide: On a panel treating figures diverse as the historian Walter LaFeber and the 1960s activists and journalists David Horowitz and Todd Gitlin (by the way, Gitlin was in the audience, as was Eric Alterman, making for a lively discussion, especially regarding the intellectual merits and essential epistemology of Horowitz), Greg Sumner of the University of Detroit Mercy presented a paper on Kurt Vonnegut, attempting to redeem him from the intellectual ghetto in which he resides (too 1960s, for adolescents and near adolescents but not mature readers). Sumner finds in Vonnegut a decidedly pre-1960s and Midwestern (Vonnegut was from Indianapolis) corny patriotism and humanism, best exemplified by the character Edgar Derby in Slaughterhouse 5. I am not sure the free-thinking, socialist, if patriotic Vonnegut really represents the Midwestern ethos, but Sumner’s larger project of reclaiming Vonnegut through a close analysis of his novels seems fascinating. Likewise, in a panel on Cold War culture, Peter Aigner of CUNY made the case – quite convincingly – that the New Leader is an organ of mid-century New York intellectualism that has too long been ignored. Kathleen Brennan, also of CUNY, convinced me that the turn-of-the-century museum specialist and archaeologist Henry Chapman Mercer developed a species of antimodernism that might well have proffered a more useful adaptation and integration of the past with an ever-changing, machine-age present than most (including the Southern Agrarians, whom I have studied too much).
But, on to the main panel for discussion, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America”: As the commentator Elizabeth Lasch-Quinn observed, psychology gained a monopoly in twentieth-century American society both on diagnosing problems and providing the answers. Their power of definition became all-important. In this way, psychology has colonized life-space (an intriguing phrase). Susan Lanzoni of MIT gave a fascinating paper on the legacy in America of nineteenth-century German aesthetics oriented around the concept of Einfühling, or “feeling into.” The term was translated as “empathy” by the English psychologist Edward Titchener (who thus coined that all-important English term) and inspired folks like June Downey and Herbert Sydney Langfeld in America to do all sorts of fascinating (and downright entertaining) experiments on the individual perception of feeling and emotion in art, both with mind and body. Robert Genter, now teaching at Nassau Community College, traced the roots of the psychological analysis of political “pathology”—a phenomenon so characteristic of postwar America—to the 1920s imperative towards scientism in the social sciences and the deeply felt need for a reliable analysis of personality as a safeguard for modern democracy. Harold Lasswell crucially connects this 1920s project with the postwar world through his pathbreaking analysis of psychopathology and politics. Lasswell seems to have wanted candidates for political office to be psychoanalyzed: What might this have produced? Theodore Wisniewski of Simon Fraser University argued that B. F. Skinner and Carl Rogers had more in common than we (or they) might have believed. Despite the differences between the behaviorism of Skinner and the humanistic psychology of Rogers (which eventually fed into theories of client-centered therapy and self-actualization) both were essentially engaged in hashing out what Wisniewski considers an essential problem of American liberalism—the perennial realization of individual vulnerability in a society constructed around individual responsibility and initiative. He also claimed that both men deeply engaged Emerson and Thoreau and both had similar concerns and sympathies (e.g., with communes) in the 1960s.
One of the goals of USIH is, I think, to expand the conversation about American intellectual history beyond the narrow confines of the history discipline, and here we had a good example of it. As Lasch-Quinn observed in her final comment, intellectual historians need to seek out all those like-minded scholars around the university, whether in psychology, sociology, philosophy, or other disciplines—who are pursuing similar projects and engage them in dialogue.
First, the darting references: The range of work at the conference was wide: On a panel treating figures diverse as the historian Walter LaFeber and the 1960s activists and journalists David Horowitz and Todd Gitlin (by the way, Gitlin was in the audience, as was Eric Alterman, making for a lively discussion, especially regarding the intellectual merits and essential epistemology of Horowitz), Greg Sumner of the University of Detroit Mercy presented a paper on Kurt Vonnegut, attempting to redeem him from the intellectual ghetto in which he resides (too 1960s, for adolescents and near adolescents but not mature readers). Sumner finds in Vonnegut a decidedly pre-1960s and Midwestern (Vonnegut was from Indianapolis) corny patriotism and humanism, best exemplified by the character Edgar Derby in Slaughterhouse 5. I am not sure the free-thinking, socialist, if patriotic Vonnegut really represents the Midwestern ethos, but Sumner’s larger project of reclaiming Vonnegut through a close analysis of his novels seems fascinating. Likewise, in a panel on Cold War culture, Peter Aigner of CUNY made the case – quite convincingly – that the New Leader is an organ of mid-century New York intellectualism that has too long been ignored. Kathleen Brennan, also of CUNY, convinced me that the turn-of-the-century museum specialist and archaeologist Henry Chapman Mercer developed a species of antimodernism that might well have proffered a more useful adaptation and integration of the past with an ever-changing, machine-age present than most (including the Southern Agrarians, whom I have studied too much).
But, on to the main panel for discussion, “The Psychology of Twentieth-Century America”: As the commentator Elizabeth Lasch-Quinn observed, psychology gained a monopoly in twentieth-century American society both on diagnosing problems and providing the answers. Their power of definition became all-important. In this way, psychology has colonized life-space (an intriguing phrase). Susan Lanzoni of MIT gave a fascinating paper on the legacy in America of nineteenth-century German aesthetics oriented around the concept of Einfühling, or “feeling into.” The term was translated as “empathy” by the English psychologist Edward Titchener (who thus coined that all-important English term) and inspired folks like June Downey and Herbert Sydney Langfeld in America to do all sorts of fascinating (and downright entertaining) experiments on the individual perception of feeling and emotion in art, both with mind and body. Robert Genter, now teaching at Nassau Community College, traced the roots of the psychological analysis of political “pathology”—a phenomenon so characteristic of postwar America—to the 1920s imperative towards scientism in the social sciences and the deeply felt need for a reliable analysis of personality as a safeguard for modern democracy. Harold Lasswell crucially connects this 1920s project with the postwar world through his pathbreaking analysis of psychopathology and politics. Lasswell seems to have wanted candidates for political office to be psychoanalyzed: What might this have produced? Theodore Wisniewski of Simon Fraser University argued that B. F. Skinner and Carl Rogers had more in common than we (or they) might have believed. Despite the differences between the behaviorism of Skinner and the humanistic psychology of Rogers (which eventually fed into theories of client-centered therapy and self-actualization) both were essentially engaged in hashing out what Wisniewski considers an essential problem of American liberalism—the perennial realization of individual vulnerability in a society constructed around individual responsibility and initiative. He also claimed that both men deeply engaged Emerson and Thoreau and both had similar concerns and sympathies (e.g., with communes) in the 1960s.
One of the goals of USIH is, I think, to expand the conversation about American intellectual history beyond the narrow confines of the history discipline, and here we had a good example of it. As Lasch-Quinn observed in her final comment, intellectual historians need to seek out all those like-minded scholars around the university, whether in psychology, sociology, philosophy, or other disciplines—who are pursuing similar projects and engage them in dialogue.
Senin, 23 November 2009
Is Taylorism Redeemable?
One of my favorite sessions from the second USIH conference was one put together by our own Mike O'Connor. The panel was cleverly titled, "To Market, To Market: American Thinkers Confront Twentieth-Century Capitalism," and was chaired by Jennifer Burns of recent Daily Show fame. Burns is the author of a new biography of Ayn Rand.
All of the papers were excellent. O'Connor convincingly argued that Henry Wallace gave full intellectual expression to the New Deal in his book, Sixty Million Jobs. But the bulk of the post-presentation conversation was spent on Caitlin Rosenthal's paper, "Frederick W. Taylor: The Optimistic Science of Scientific Management." Rosenthal contended that Taylor is misremembered as anti-worker, partly the result of decades of labor historiography, which paints Taylor, through a moral lens, as a tool of the corporate managers seeking to discipline an increasingly unruly industrial workforce. Rosenthal conducted a close reading of "Scientific Management," replete with rhetoric friendly to the cause of the laboring class, to recuperate Taylor. She was somewhat convincing in this, but I took issue during the Q&A session with her conclusion, where she stated that there are plenty of examples in history that point towards capital-labor cooperation. She implied that efficiency is good for everyone, the further implication of which seemed to be that in addition to Taylor, Taylorism is worthy of redemption.
I'm all for overturning conventional wisdom. But in this case, the wisdom of the labor historians, and other assorted left-leaning intellectuals--such as Jill Lepore, who recently wrote an entertaining New Yorker article on Taylor--might be conventional, but it’s still wisdom. Taylorism is not just about efficiency. It's about disciplining a workforce. Perhaps if we think about Taylorism in terms more understandable to our everyday experiences, such as Taylorism in the academy, it would be less redeemable. Sure, shifting the bulk of teaching to on-line courses is more efficient in terms of cost. But it's bad for the academic workforce... not to mention for education. IS Taylorism redeemable?
Is Taylorism Redeemable?
One of my favorite sessions from the second USIH conference was one put together by our own Mike O'Connor. The panel was cleverly titled, "To Market, To Market: American Thinkers Confront Twentieth-Century Capitalism," and was chaired by Jennifer Burns of recent Daily Show fame. Burns is the author of a new biography of Ayn Rand.
All of the papers were excellent. O'Connor convincingly argued that Henry Wallace gave full intellectual expression to the New Deal in his book, Sixty Million Jobs. But the bulk of the post-presentation conversation was spent on Caitlin Rosenthal's paper, "Frederick W. Taylor: The Optimistic Science of Scientific Management." Rosenthal contended that Taylor is misremembered as anti-worker, partly the result of decades of labor historiography, which paints Taylor, through a moral lens, as a tool of the corporate managers seeking to discipline an increasingly unruly industrial workforce. Rosenthal conducted a close reading of "Scientific Management," replete with rhetoric friendly to the cause of the laboring class, to recuperate Taylor. She was somewhat convincing in this, but I took issue during the Q&A session with her conclusion, where she stated that there are plenty of examples in history that point towards capital-labor cooperation. She implied that efficiency is good for everyone, the further implication of which seemed to be that in addition to Taylor, Taylorism is worthy of redemption.
I'm all for overturning conventional wisdom. But in this case, the wisdom of the labor historians, and other assorted left-leaning intellectuals--such as Jill Lepore, who recently wrote an entertaining New Yorker article on Taylor--might be conventional, but it’s still wisdom. Taylorism is not just about efficiency. It's about disciplining a workforce. Perhaps if we think about Taylorism in terms more understandable to our everyday experiences, such as Taylorism in the academy, it would be less redeemable. Sure, shifting the bulk of teaching to on-line courses is more efficient in terms of cost. But it's bad for the academic workforce... not to mention for education. IS Taylorism redeemable?
Toward an Intellectual History of Black Women
I just found out yesterday that while I was in New York, the University of Michigan hosted a one day conference entitled "Toward an Intellectual History of Black Women." The presenters are also working on a book together. Some of the broader issues my friend told me they discussed were how to access black women's intellectual life given a history of dissembling and few records, as well as questioning the definition of intellectual so as to seriously consider black women.
Let me quote some of their self-definition.
Let me quote some of their self-definition.
In an effort to move the study of black thought, culture, and leadership beyond the “Great Men” paradigm that characterizes most accounts of black intellectual activity, we have initiated this three year research project. The goal of this project is to address the lack of attention given to the work of black women intellectuals historically and in the contemporary moment. In doing so we hope to challenge the perception and construction of black intellectual leadership as male and to explore African-American women’s contributions to black thought, political mobilization, creative work, gender theory and identity politics.
In the course of the three-year project, we aim to generate a body of innovative scholarship on black women intellectuals that maps the distinctive ways in which black women have engaged and challenged the ideas of both white American intellectual traditions and the racial and political ideas of black male thinkers. Designed to support the development of the next generation of scholars in this field, our project brings together scholars at different stages in their careers.
[The conference I reference was the penultimate act of the three year process (the edited volume being the final one)]. ...
Working as a collective, we hope to piece together a history of black women’s thought and culture, that examines the distinctive concerns and historical forces that have shaped black women’s ideas and intellectual activities. To this end, we are interested in subjects such as the genealogy of black feminism, the patterns of women’s leadership and theological commitments in the black church, the politics of black women’s literature, and the history of black women’s racial thought.
...
Our project aims to define and promote black women’s intellectual history as a field, and in so doing to generate compelling scholarship that challenges the traditionally male dominated accounts of intellectual work. We also believe that in taking on this important and much neglected subject we will help to create and sustain a community of scholars, nurture and mentor junior professors and graduate students and help to develop the leadership skills of young women.
Toward an Intellectual History of Black Women
I just found out yesterday that while I was in New York, the University of Michigan hosted a one day conference entitled "Toward an Intellectual History of Black Women." The presenters are also working on a book together. Some of the broader issues my friend told me they discussed were how to access black women's intellectual life given a history of dissembling and few records, as well as questioning the definition of intellectual so as to seriously consider black women.
Let me quote some of their self-definition.
Let me quote some of their self-definition.
In an effort to move the study of black thought, culture, and leadership beyond the “Great Men” paradigm that characterizes most accounts of black intellectual activity, we have initiated this three year research project. The goal of this project is to address the lack of attention given to the work of black women intellectuals historically and in the contemporary moment. In doing so we hope to challenge the perception and construction of black intellectual leadership as male and to explore African-American women’s contributions to black thought, political mobilization, creative work, gender theory and identity politics.
In the course of the three-year project, we aim to generate a body of innovative scholarship on black women intellectuals that maps the distinctive ways in which black women have engaged and challenged the ideas of both white American intellectual traditions and the racial and political ideas of black male thinkers. Designed to support the development of the next generation of scholars in this field, our project brings together scholars at different stages in their careers.
[The conference I reference was the penultimate act of the three year process (the edited volume being the final one)]. ...
Working as a collective, we hope to piece together a history of black women’s thought and culture, that examines the distinctive concerns and historical forces that have shaped black women’s ideas and intellectual activities. To this end, we are interested in subjects such as the genealogy of black feminism, the patterns of women’s leadership and theological commitments in the black church, the politics of black women’s literature, and the history of black women’s racial thought.
...
Our project aims to define and promote black women’s intellectual history as a field, and in so doing to generate compelling scholarship that challenges the traditionally male dominated accounts of intellectual work. We also believe that in taking on this important and much neglected subject we will help to create and sustain a community of scholars, nurture and mentor junior professors and graduate students and help to develop the leadership skills of young women.
Christopher Lasch: Critic of Liberalism, Historian of Its Discontents
I would like to announce the publication of my essay, "Christopher Lasch: Critic of Liberalism, Historian of Its Discontents," in the journal Rethinking History -- in a special dedicated to the topic of "Politics and History." The reason for announcing this here is that this essay is literally the product of the U.S. Intellectual History blog and conference. When the Call for Papers was first issued, I threw out some ideas for a paper here, and then again here. I then presented a version of this paper at the first U.S. Intellectual History Conference in Grand Rapids last year, where Jennifer Ratner-Rosenhagen and others gave me great feedback. Thanks to all. AH
Christopher Lasch: Critic of Liberalism, Historian of Its Discontents
I would like to announce the publication of my essay, "Christopher Lasch: Critic of Liberalism, Historian of Its Discontents," in the journal Rethinking History -- in a special dedicated to the topic of "Politics and History." The reason for announcing this here is that this essay is literally the product of the U.S. Intellectual History blog and conference. When the Call for Papers was first issued, I threw out some ideas for a paper here, and then again here. I then presented a version of this paper at the first U.S. Intellectual History Conference in Grand Rapids last year, where Jennifer Ratner-Rosenhagen and others gave me great feedback. Thanks to all. AH
Minggu, 22 November 2009
Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself...
(Perhaps that’s an inauspicious beginning, making an RS allusion like that…)
Please Allow Me to Introduce Myself...
(Perhaps that’s an inauspicious beginning, making an RS allusion like that…)
Selasa, 17 November 2009
make your own academic sentence
This sentence construction engine expresses a thought for you in the much-malinged prose of theory-inflected humanities academic jargon. I thought with finals coming up soon it might be good for a minute or two of procrastination for those who do not feel like grading. My sentence:
"The reification of pop culture functions as the conceptual frame for the engendering of the nation-state."
"The reification of pop culture functions as the conceptual frame for the engendering of the nation-state."
If you think about it for a minute, it's really quite true.
make your own academic sentence
This sentence construction engine expresses a thought for you in the much-malinged prose of theory-inflected humanities academic jargon. I thought with finals coming up soon it might be good for a minute or two of procrastination for those who do not feel like grading. My sentence:
"The reification of pop culture functions as the conceptual frame for the engendering of the nation-state."
"The reification of pop culture functions as the conceptual frame for the engendering of the nation-state."
If you think about it for a minute, it's really quite true.
Senin, 16 November 2009
Reversing the Vector of Intellectual History
One of the many memorable moments of our second conference was the first: James Livingston’s plenary address, “Seeing, Hearing, and Writing the End of Modernity: From Reading Pragmatism to Watching Movies.” I found intriguing the way he used Warren Susman’s theory about “reversing the vector of intellectual history” to frame the discussion. Livingston explicitly referenced Susman’s framework in his introduction, stating: “Ideas cannot be ahead of their time.” In other words, intellectuals merely express preexisting modes of understanding already out there in the ethos. In his conclusion, although he did not reference Susman by name, he rephrased this “bottom up” theory of intellectual history, arguing that the end of modernity was already deeply felt, exemplified by the turn in film history that began in the 1970s—a turn to more graphically apocalyptic visions that accompanied the implosion of modern narratives, such as patriarchy and nationalism. Postmodern theorists merely put such popular sentiments into word.
Had Livingston stuck to a historical narrative that began in the 1970s, his talk would have been pretty conventional, at least from a film studies perspective. But Livingston extended his historical analysis back, in ways both provocative and confusing. For he also argues that pragmatism, which predates the 1970s transformation in film by almost a century—and is the topic of his last two books—is the most eloquent expression of the postmodern normalization of nihilism. For, according to Livingston, James and Dewey’s anti-subjectivity were more radical than any of the more recent postmodern theorists, including Deleuze and Guattari, who are often considered at the extreme end of postmodernism.
The question I posed Livingston at the conference, and that I now pose to you, the reader: How does this make sense, at least chronologically, if we are to hue to the Susman theory that reverses the trajectory of intellectual history from the bottom to the top? In other words, if the turn in film history is the major piece of evidence that the end of modernity was already felt prior to the explosion of postmodern theorizing in the 1980s, then where does pragmatism fit in this order of things? Livingston responded that cultural forms predated pragmatism, in the form of money, which was conceptualized as “a sign of a sign,” and that Dewey and James put such seemingly banal market relations into a philosophical framework.
I am very familiar with Livingston’s argument about the relationship between the “Money Question” and pragmatism from his 1994 book, Pragmatism and the Political Economy of Cultural Revolution, 1850-1940. In fact, I find this argument extremely convincing in that specific historical context, as I make clear in the first chapter of my book, Education and the Cold War, where I frame Dewey’s pragmatic theories of education as transformational, and in opposition to otherwise astute critics, such as Randolph Bourne and Christopher Lasch.
But, to me, Livingston’s recourse to the money example is not an answer to my question, because I find the turn in film history gives expression to a much more radical break with subjectivity, or at least a much more widely felt break. So, if pragmatism was the extremity of end-of-modernity nihilism, as Livingston maintains, then it predates the turn of film history by many decades, thus rendering the Susman thesis less plausible. What I was looking for is more specificity with regards to historical context. My thinking is that pragmatism does not decenter subjectivity to the degree Livingston maintains.
This is hopefully the first of several posts I plan to write on the conference, which was a resounding success from my vantage point. I will be taking a much more active role in organizing next year’s conference. I only hope we can duplicate some of the energy we created this year.
Andrew
Had Livingston stuck to a historical narrative that began in the 1970s, his talk would have been pretty conventional, at least from a film studies perspective. But Livingston extended his historical analysis back, in ways both provocative and confusing. For he also argues that pragmatism, which predates the 1970s transformation in film by almost a century—and is the topic of his last two books—is the most eloquent expression of the postmodern normalization of nihilism. For, according to Livingston, James and Dewey’s anti-subjectivity were more radical than any of the more recent postmodern theorists, including Deleuze and Guattari, who are often considered at the extreme end of postmodernism.
The question I posed Livingston at the conference, and that I now pose to you, the reader: How does this make sense, at least chronologically, if we are to hue to the Susman theory that reverses the trajectory of intellectual history from the bottom to the top? In other words, if the turn in film history is the major piece of evidence that the end of modernity was already felt prior to the explosion of postmodern theorizing in the 1980s, then where does pragmatism fit in this order of things? Livingston responded that cultural forms predated pragmatism, in the form of money, which was conceptualized as “a sign of a sign,” and that Dewey and James put such seemingly banal market relations into a philosophical framework.
I am very familiar with Livingston’s argument about the relationship between the “Money Question” and pragmatism from his 1994 book, Pragmatism and the Political Economy of Cultural Revolution, 1850-1940. In fact, I find this argument extremely convincing in that specific historical context, as I make clear in the first chapter of my book, Education and the Cold War, where I frame Dewey’s pragmatic theories of education as transformational, and in opposition to otherwise astute critics, such as Randolph Bourne and Christopher Lasch.
But, to me, Livingston’s recourse to the money example is not an answer to my question, because I find the turn in film history gives expression to a much more radical break with subjectivity, or at least a much more widely felt break. So, if pragmatism was the extremity of end-of-modernity nihilism, as Livingston maintains, then it predates the turn of film history by many decades, thus rendering the Susman thesis less plausible. What I was looking for is more specificity with regards to historical context. My thinking is that pragmatism does not decenter subjectivity to the degree Livingston maintains.
This is hopefully the first of several posts I plan to write on the conference, which was a resounding success from my vantage point. I will be taking a much more active role in organizing next year’s conference. I only hope we can duplicate some of the energy we created this year.
Andrew
Reversing the Vector of Intellectual History
One of the many memorable moments of our second conference was the first: James Livingston’s plenary address, “Seeing, Hearing, and Writing the End of Modernity: From Reading Pragmatism to Watching Movies.” I found intriguing the way he used Warren Susman’s theory about “reversing the vector of intellectual history” to frame the discussion. Livingston explicitly referenced Susman’s framework in his introduction, stating: “Ideas cannot be ahead of their time.” In other words, intellectuals merely express preexisting modes of understanding already out there in the ethos. In his conclusion, although he did not reference Susman by name, he rephrased this “bottom up” theory of intellectual history, arguing that the end of modernity was already deeply felt, exemplified by the turn in film history that began in the 1970s—a turn to more graphically apocalyptic visions that accompanied the implosion of modern narratives, such as patriarchy and nationalism. Postmodern theorists merely put such popular sentiments into word.
Had Livingston stuck to a historical narrative that began in the 1970s, his talk would have been pretty conventional, at least from a film studies perspective. But Livingston extended his historical analysis back, in ways both provocative and confusing. For he also argues that pragmatism, which predates the 1970s transformation in film by almost a century—and is the topic of his last two books—is the most eloquent expression of the postmodern normalization of nihilism. For, according to Livingston, James and Dewey’s anti-subjectivity were more radical than any of the more recent postmodern theorists, including Deleuze and Guattari, who are often considered at the extreme end of postmodernism.
The question I posed Livingston at the conference, and that I now pose to you, the reader: How does this make sense, at least chronologically, if we are to hue to the Susman theory that reverses the trajectory of intellectual history from the bottom to the top? In other words, if the turn in film history is the major piece of evidence that the end of modernity was already felt prior to the explosion of postmodern theorizing in the 1980s, then where does pragmatism fit in this order of things? Livingston responded that cultural forms predated pragmatism, in the form of money, which was conceptualized as “a sign of a sign,” and that Dewey and James put such seemingly banal market relations into a philosophical framework.
I am very familiar with Livingston’s argument about the relationship between the “Money Question” and pragmatism from his 1994 book, Pragmatism and the Political Economy of Cultural Revolution, 1850-1940. In fact, I find this argument extremely convincing in that specific historical context, as I make clear in the first chapter of my book, Education and the Cold War, where I frame Dewey’s pragmatic theories of education as transformational, and in opposition to otherwise astute critics, such as Randolph Bourne and Christopher Lasch.
But, to me, Livingston’s recourse to the money example is not an answer to my question, because I find the turn in film history gives expression to a much more radical break with subjectivity, or at least a much more widely felt break. So, if pragmatism was the extremity of end-of-modernity nihilism, as Livingston maintains, then it predates the turn of film history by many decades, thus rendering the Susman thesis less plausible. What I was looking for is more specificity with regards to historical context. My thinking is that pragmatism does not decenter subjectivity to the degree Livingston maintains.
This is hopefully the first of several posts I plan to write on the conference, which was a resounding success from my vantage point. I will be taking a much more active role in organizing next year’s conference. I only hope we can duplicate some of the energy we created this year.
Andrew
Had Livingston stuck to a historical narrative that began in the 1970s, his talk would have been pretty conventional, at least from a film studies perspective. But Livingston extended his historical analysis back, in ways both provocative and confusing. For he also argues that pragmatism, which predates the 1970s transformation in film by almost a century—and is the topic of his last two books—is the most eloquent expression of the postmodern normalization of nihilism. For, according to Livingston, James and Dewey’s anti-subjectivity were more radical than any of the more recent postmodern theorists, including Deleuze and Guattari, who are often considered at the extreme end of postmodernism.
The question I posed Livingston at the conference, and that I now pose to you, the reader: How does this make sense, at least chronologically, if we are to hue to the Susman theory that reverses the trajectory of intellectual history from the bottom to the top? In other words, if the turn in film history is the major piece of evidence that the end of modernity was already felt prior to the explosion of postmodern theorizing in the 1980s, then where does pragmatism fit in this order of things? Livingston responded that cultural forms predated pragmatism, in the form of money, which was conceptualized as “a sign of a sign,” and that Dewey and James put such seemingly banal market relations into a philosophical framework.
I am very familiar with Livingston’s argument about the relationship between the “Money Question” and pragmatism from his 1994 book, Pragmatism and the Political Economy of Cultural Revolution, 1850-1940. In fact, I find this argument extremely convincing in that specific historical context, as I make clear in the first chapter of my book, Education and the Cold War, where I frame Dewey’s pragmatic theories of education as transformational, and in opposition to otherwise astute critics, such as Randolph Bourne and Christopher Lasch.
But, to me, Livingston’s recourse to the money example is not an answer to my question, because I find the turn in film history gives expression to a much more radical break with subjectivity, or at least a much more widely felt break. So, if pragmatism was the extremity of end-of-modernity nihilism, as Livingston maintains, then it predates the turn of film history by many decades, thus rendering the Susman thesis less plausible. What I was looking for is more specificity with regards to historical context. My thinking is that pragmatism does not decenter subjectivity to the degree Livingston maintains.
This is hopefully the first of several posts I plan to write on the conference, which was a resounding success from my vantage point. I will be taking a much more active role in organizing next year’s conference. I only hope we can duplicate some of the energy we created this year.
Andrew
The Second Annual USIH Conference: Initial Thoughts, More Thank Yous, And Future Plans
As you probably surmised from Lauren's post below, the 2009 conference is over. It was a whirlwind two days. As such, I'm a bit tired. But despite my partiality, and the fact that I'm still processing everything, I will go ahead and fancy the conference a success.
The proof will be in the pudding, as they say. If the networking and connections made by attendees results in the advancement of the study of U.S. intellectual history---evidenced in articles, books, and an increased public awareness of the importance of the subfield---then it was time and money well spent. Otherwise it will be remembered as something less: mere navel gazing, or an event that only advanced the interests of historians (e.g. job hunting, academic politics). It is my sincerest hope that the former, the subject matter, benefits. After witnessing the enthusiasm and energy of the participants, as well as the quality of papers presented and comments offered, I truly believe it will.
I intend on putting up a series of reflections based on my notes from the events I attended. But my posts will be partial in two ways. First, well, because they're only my thoughts. But second, and more importantly, since each of the 4 time slots hosted 5-6 panels, I saw only a small slice of the conference. I will rely on my colleagues, both here and in our readership, to fill in the blanks with other posts and in the comments (or even with a guest posts?). Here's what I witnessed in terms of content: Jim Livingston's provocative plenary, Panel 4 ("Abstracting Technology and Science"), Panel 12 (my own), Panel 16 ("Culture and History"), Panel 23 ("Forgetting Social Science"), and the closing session, "Assessing the Legacy of the 1977 Wingspread Conference."
But before we get too deep in posts on conference reflections, I want to thank everyone once again for their moral and material support: CUNY's Graduate Center, William P. Kelly, the Center for the Humanities, David Nasaw, Michael Washburn, several unnamed CfH student interns, Aoibbhean Sweeney, Matthew Cotter, Martin Burke, Helena Rosenblatt, all of our panel participants, and the whole USIH team---Andrew Hartman, Mike O'Connor, Ben Alpers, Lauren Kientz, David Sehat, Paul Anderson, Ray Haberski, Julian Nemeth, Sylwester Ratowt, and last but not least, Paul Murphy.
The Planning Team for next year consists of Paul Murphy, Andrew Hartman, Matthew Cotter, and volunteers. I expect that they will begin rounding up suggestions and help for next year's event in the near future. As of today we have a handshake agreement with the Center for the Humanities to host the program again.
Once I've rested up and have absorbed the many lessons from this year's event, I'm sure I'll energetically begin looking forward to our next gathering. - TL
The proof will be in the pudding, as they say. If the networking and connections made by attendees results in the advancement of the study of U.S. intellectual history---evidenced in articles, books, and an increased public awareness of the importance of the subfield---then it was time and money well spent. Otherwise it will be remembered as something less: mere navel gazing, or an event that only advanced the interests of historians (e.g. job hunting, academic politics). It is my sincerest hope that the former, the subject matter, benefits. After witnessing the enthusiasm and energy of the participants, as well as the quality of papers presented and comments offered, I truly believe it will.
I intend on putting up a series of reflections based on my notes from the events I attended. But my posts will be partial in two ways. First, well, because they're only my thoughts. But second, and more importantly, since each of the 4 time slots hosted 5-6 panels, I saw only a small slice of the conference. I will rely on my colleagues, both here and in our readership, to fill in the blanks with other posts and in the comments (or even with a guest posts?). Here's what I witnessed in terms of content: Jim Livingston's provocative plenary, Panel 4 ("Abstracting Technology and Science"), Panel 12 (my own), Panel 16 ("Culture and History"), Panel 23 ("Forgetting Social Science"), and the closing session, "Assessing the Legacy of the 1977 Wingspread Conference."
But before we get too deep in posts on conference reflections, I want to thank everyone once again for their moral and material support: CUNY's Graduate Center, William P. Kelly, the Center for the Humanities, David Nasaw, Michael Washburn, several unnamed CfH student interns, Aoibbhean Sweeney, Matthew Cotter, Martin Burke, Helena Rosenblatt, all of our panel participants, and the whole USIH team---Andrew Hartman, Mike O'Connor, Ben Alpers, Lauren Kientz, David Sehat, Paul Anderson, Ray Haberski, Julian Nemeth, Sylwester Ratowt, and last but not least, Paul Murphy.
The Planning Team for next year consists of Paul Murphy, Andrew Hartman, Matthew Cotter, and volunteers. I expect that they will begin rounding up suggestions and help for next year's event in the near future. As of today we have a handshake agreement with the Center for the Humanities to host the program again.
Once I've rested up and have absorbed the many lessons from this year's event, I'm sure I'll energetically begin looking forward to our next gathering. - TL
The Second Annual USIH Conference: Initial Thoughts, More Thank Yous, And Future Plans
As you probably surmised from Lauren's post below, the 2009 conference is over. It was a whirlwind two days. As such, I'm a bit tired. But despite my partiality, and the fact that I'm still processing everything, I will go ahead and fancy the conference a success.
The proof will be in the pudding, as they say. If the networking and connections made by attendees results in the advancement of the study of U.S. intellectual history---evidenced in articles, books, and an increased public awareness of the importance of the subfield---then it was time and money well spent. Otherwise it will be remembered as something less: mere navel gazing, or an event that only advanced the interests of historians (e.g. job hunting, academic politics). It is my sincerest hope that the former, the subject matter, benefits. After witnessing the enthusiasm and energy of the participants, as well as the quality of papers presented and comments offered, I truly believe it will.
I intend on putting up a series of reflections based on my notes from the events I attended. But my posts will be partial in two ways. First, well, because they're only my thoughts. But second, and more importantly, since each of the 4 time slots hosted 5-6 panels, I saw only a small slice of the conference. I will rely on my colleagues, both here and in our readership, to fill in the blanks with other posts and in the comments (or even with a guest posts?). Here's what I witnessed in terms of content: Jim Livingston's provocative plenary, Panel 4 ("Abstracting Technology and Science"), Panel 12 (my own), Panel 16 ("Culture and History"), Panel 23 ("Forgetting Social Science"), and the closing session, "Assessing the Legacy of the 1977 Wingspread Conference."
But before we get too deep in posts on conference reflections, I want to thank everyone once again for their moral and material support: CUNY's Graduate Center, William P. Kelly, the Center for the Humanities, David Nasaw, Michael Washburn, several unnamed CfH student interns, Aoibbhean Sweeney, Matthew Cotter, Martin Burke, Helena Rosenblatt, all of our panel participants, and the whole USIH team---Andrew Hartman, Mike O'Connor, Ben Alpers, Lauren Kientz, David Sehat, Paul Anderson, Ray Haberski, Julian Nemeth, Sylwester Ratowt, and last but not least, Paul Murphy.
The Planning Team for next year consists of Paul Murphy, Andrew Hartman, Matthew Cotter, and volunteers. I expect that they will begin rounding up suggestions and help for next year's event in the near future. As of today we have a handshake agreement with the Center for the Humanities to host the program again.
Once I've rested up and have absorbed the many lessons from this year's event, I'm sure I'll energetically begin looking forward to our next gathering. - TL
The proof will be in the pudding, as they say. If the networking and connections made by attendees results in the advancement of the study of U.S. intellectual history---evidenced in articles, books, and an increased public awareness of the importance of the subfield---then it was time and money well spent. Otherwise it will be remembered as something less: mere navel gazing, or an event that only advanced the interests of historians (e.g. job hunting, academic politics). It is my sincerest hope that the former, the subject matter, benefits. After witnessing the enthusiasm and energy of the participants, as well as the quality of papers presented and comments offered, I truly believe it will.
I intend on putting up a series of reflections based on my notes from the events I attended. But my posts will be partial in two ways. First, well, because they're only my thoughts. But second, and more importantly, since each of the 4 time slots hosted 5-6 panels, I saw only a small slice of the conference. I will rely on my colleagues, both here and in our readership, to fill in the blanks with other posts and in the comments (or even with a guest posts?). Here's what I witnessed in terms of content: Jim Livingston's provocative plenary, Panel 4 ("Abstracting Technology and Science"), Panel 12 (my own), Panel 16 ("Culture and History"), Panel 23 ("Forgetting Social Science"), and the closing session, "Assessing the Legacy of the 1977 Wingspread Conference."
But before we get too deep in posts on conference reflections, I want to thank everyone once again for their moral and material support: CUNY's Graduate Center, William P. Kelly, the Center for the Humanities, David Nasaw, Michael Washburn, several unnamed CfH student interns, Aoibbhean Sweeney, Matthew Cotter, Martin Burke, Helena Rosenblatt, all of our panel participants, and the whole USIH team---Andrew Hartman, Mike O'Connor, Ben Alpers, Lauren Kientz, David Sehat, Paul Anderson, Ray Haberski, Julian Nemeth, Sylwester Ratowt, and last but not least, Paul Murphy.
The Planning Team for next year consists of Paul Murphy, Andrew Hartman, Matthew Cotter, and volunteers. I expect that they will begin rounding up suggestions and help for next year's event in the near future. As of today we have a handshake agreement with the Center for the Humanities to host the program again.
Once I've rested up and have absorbed the many lessons from this year's event, I'm sure I'll energetically begin looking forward to our next gathering. - TL
Sabtu, 14 November 2009
U.S. Intellectual History in the Age of Academe.
At the last session of the second annual USIH conference in New York City, we had the privilege of listening to the wisdom of a host of intellectual historians who have influenced the field in significant ways. They discussed the future of the field. I'm sure many of you have thoughts about this session, but I'd like to briefly clarify a question I asked and see if any of you would like to continue the conversation.
I asked how the panelists thought that the way we write US Intellectual History would change following the migration of intellectuals into the academy and the way that ideas have become discipline-bound. Thomas Bender mentioned the thesis of his recent work on Higher Education and David Hollinger dismissed the romanticism of academics for the cafe life. I found these answers unsatisfactory for my underlying question, which clearly didn't make it into the question I actually asked.
What I was really thinking about was the specialization of ideas. How are we going to work on understandings bound into a discipline other than our own, when most of the discussion that takes place is not in some kind of public sphere, but within a specific discipline with their own vocabulary, own conferences, and trends that takes their specialists many years to master. Someone mentioned at the conference that other disciplines always seem to think the other is 50 years behind (he referenced a scientist who asked him with a bit of a sneer if we are still ruled by Thomas Kuhn).
Take, for example, historians of science. They most often come out of science undergraduate degrees. When I switched from physics to history a lot of people encouraged me to move into the history of science, but I chose not to. However, this means I can understand more of the history of science talks I've been to than many of my peers. But not a ton more. I needed AP Physics and three years of solid mathematical and physics training, albeit at the high school and undergraduate level, in order to understand a small slice of physics.
So--do we as intellectual historians need to take on the serious study of specializations, like historians of science? I write about black economist Abram Harris in my dissertation. Should I have taken some classes in the economics department, or asked for a reading list from an economics department in order to fully understand his life? Even though I am more interested in his place at Howard University, his relationships to other intellectuals, and his self-development as an intellectual? And he is only one of a large interdisciplinary cast of characters (including poets, historians, political scientists, educators, lawyers, and activists) that I am discussing?
Perhaps ideas are not more complex now that they have been situated in universities (or even more cut off from the public sphere, given the immediacy of the internet), but I do think they are more specialized and this may require specialized training for us to do the synthesis and broad-ranging work we are known for. I particularly liked Hollinger's discussion of Luke Menand as a beginning of an answer. He mentioned that philosophers hated The Metaphysical Club, but intellectual historians recognized its strength as an engaging introduction to the lives and historical contexts of Pragmatists.
There was an activist from Haiti among us. She asked me after one panel how we would move these discussions beyond the academy. I am usually at a loss when faced with that question (and indeed, a bit surprised to be asked at the USIH. It tends to come up much more at African American History conferences). I doubt very much making it into the New Yorker was what she meant. She wanted us to be engaged in world-changing events, where I often feel that the strength of history is in its powers of reflection. But it is a question that I think should be perennially posed to us.
I asked how the panelists thought that the way we write US Intellectual History would change following the migration of intellectuals into the academy and the way that ideas have become discipline-bound. Thomas Bender mentioned the thesis of his recent work on Higher Education and David Hollinger dismissed the romanticism of academics for the cafe life. I found these answers unsatisfactory for my underlying question, which clearly didn't make it into the question I actually asked.
What I was really thinking about was the specialization of ideas. How are we going to work on understandings bound into a discipline other than our own, when most of the discussion that takes place is not in some kind of public sphere, but within a specific discipline with their own vocabulary, own conferences, and trends that takes their specialists many years to master. Someone mentioned at the conference that other disciplines always seem to think the other is 50 years behind (he referenced a scientist who asked him with a bit of a sneer if we are still ruled by Thomas Kuhn).
Take, for example, historians of science. They most often come out of science undergraduate degrees. When I switched from physics to history a lot of people encouraged me to move into the history of science, but I chose not to. However, this means I can understand more of the history of science talks I've been to than many of my peers. But not a ton more. I needed AP Physics and three years of solid mathematical and physics training, albeit at the high school and undergraduate level, in order to understand a small slice of physics.
So--do we as intellectual historians need to take on the serious study of specializations, like historians of science? I write about black economist Abram Harris in my dissertation. Should I have taken some classes in the economics department, or asked for a reading list from an economics department in order to fully understand his life? Even though I am more interested in his place at Howard University, his relationships to other intellectuals, and his self-development as an intellectual? And he is only one of a large interdisciplinary cast of characters (including poets, historians, political scientists, educators, lawyers, and activists) that I am discussing?
Perhaps ideas are not more complex now that they have been situated in universities (or even more cut off from the public sphere, given the immediacy of the internet), but I do think they are more specialized and this may require specialized training for us to do the synthesis and broad-ranging work we are known for. I particularly liked Hollinger's discussion of Luke Menand as a beginning of an answer. He mentioned that philosophers hated The Metaphysical Club, but intellectual historians recognized its strength as an engaging introduction to the lives and historical contexts of Pragmatists.
There was an activist from Haiti among us. She asked me after one panel how we would move these discussions beyond the academy. I am usually at a loss when faced with that question (and indeed, a bit surprised to be asked at the USIH. It tends to come up much more at African American History conferences). I doubt very much making it into the New Yorker was what she meant. She wanted us to be engaged in world-changing events, where I often feel that the strength of history is in its powers of reflection. But it is a question that I think should be perennially posed to us.
U.S. Intellectual History in the Age of Academe.
At the last session of the second annual USIH conference in New York City, we had the privilege of listening to the wisdom of a host of intellectual historians who have influenced the field in significant ways. They discussed the future of the field. I'm sure many of you have thoughts about this session, but I'd like to briefly clarify a question I asked and see if any of you would like to continue the conversation.
I asked how the panelists thought that the way we write US Intellectual History would change following the migration of intellectuals into the academy and the way that ideas have become discipline-bound. Thomas Bender mentioned the thesis of his recent work on Higher Education and David Hollinger dismissed the romanticism of academics for the cafe life. I found these answers unsatisfactory for my underlying question, which clearly didn't make it into the question I actually asked.
What I was really thinking about was the specialization of ideas. How are we going to work on understandings bound into a discipline other than our own, when most of the discussion that takes place is not in some kind of public sphere, but within a specific discipline with their own vocabulary, own conferences, and trends that takes their specialists many years to master. Someone mentioned at the conference that other disciplines always seem to think the other is 50 years behind (he referenced a scientist who asked him with a bit of a sneer if we are still ruled by Thomas Kuhn).
Take, for example, historians of science. They most often come out of science undergraduate degrees. When I switched from physics to history a lot of people encouraged me to move into the history of science, but I chose not to. However, this means I can understand more of the history of science talks I've been to than many of my peers. But not a ton more. I needed AP Physics and three years of solid mathematical and physics training, albeit at the high school and undergraduate level, in order to understand a small slice of physics.
So--do we as intellectual historians need to take on the serious study of specializations, like historians of science? I write about black economist Abram Harris in my dissertation. Should I have taken some classes in the economics department, or asked for a reading list from an economics department in order to fully understand his life? Even though I am more interested in his place at Howard University, his relationships to other intellectuals, and his self-development as an intellectual? And he is only one of a large interdisciplinary cast of characters (including poets, historians, political scientists, educators, lawyers, and activists) that I am discussing?
Perhaps ideas are not more complex now that they have been situated in universities (or even more cut off from the public sphere, given the immediacy of the internet), but I do think they are more specialized and this may require specialized training for us to do the synthesis and broad-ranging work we are known for. I particularly liked Hollinger's discussion of Luke Menand as a beginning of an answer. He mentioned that philosophers hated The Metaphysical Club, but intellectual historians recognized its strength as an engaging introduction to the lives and historical contexts of Pragmatists.
There was an activist from Haiti among us. She asked me after one panel how we would move these discussions beyond the academy. I am usually at a loss when faced with that question (and indeed, a bit surprised to be asked at the USIH. It tends to come up much more at African American History conferences). I doubt very much making it into the New Yorker was what she meant. She wanted us to be engaged in world-changing events, where I often feel that the strength of history is in its powers of reflection. But it is a question that I think should be perennially posed to us.
I asked how the panelists thought that the way we write US Intellectual History would change following the migration of intellectuals into the academy and the way that ideas have become discipline-bound. Thomas Bender mentioned the thesis of his recent work on Higher Education and David Hollinger dismissed the romanticism of academics for the cafe life. I found these answers unsatisfactory for my underlying question, which clearly didn't make it into the question I actually asked.
What I was really thinking about was the specialization of ideas. How are we going to work on understandings bound into a discipline other than our own, when most of the discussion that takes place is not in some kind of public sphere, but within a specific discipline with their own vocabulary, own conferences, and trends that takes their specialists many years to master. Someone mentioned at the conference that other disciplines always seem to think the other is 50 years behind (he referenced a scientist who asked him with a bit of a sneer if we are still ruled by Thomas Kuhn).
Take, for example, historians of science. They most often come out of science undergraduate degrees. When I switched from physics to history a lot of people encouraged me to move into the history of science, but I chose not to. However, this means I can understand more of the history of science talks I've been to than many of my peers. But not a ton more. I needed AP Physics and three years of solid mathematical and physics training, albeit at the high school and undergraduate level, in order to understand a small slice of physics.
So--do we as intellectual historians need to take on the serious study of specializations, like historians of science? I write about black economist Abram Harris in my dissertation. Should I have taken some classes in the economics department, or asked for a reading list from an economics department in order to fully understand his life? Even though I am more interested in his place at Howard University, his relationships to other intellectuals, and his self-development as an intellectual? And he is only one of a large interdisciplinary cast of characters (including poets, historians, political scientists, educators, lawyers, and activists) that I am discussing?
Perhaps ideas are not more complex now that they have been situated in universities (or even more cut off from the public sphere, given the immediacy of the internet), but I do think they are more specialized and this may require specialized training for us to do the synthesis and broad-ranging work we are known for. I particularly liked Hollinger's discussion of Luke Menand as a beginning of an answer. He mentioned that philosophers hated The Metaphysical Club, but intellectual historians recognized its strength as an engaging introduction to the lives and historical contexts of Pragmatists.
There was an activist from Haiti among us. She asked me after one panel how we would move these discussions beyond the academy. I am usually at a loss when faced with that question (and indeed, a bit surprised to be asked at the USIH. It tends to come up much more at African American History conferences). I doubt very much making it into the New Yorker was what she meant. She wanted us to be engaged in world-changing events, where I often feel that the strength of history is in its powers of reflection. But it is a question that I think should be perennially posed to us.
Rabu, 11 November 2009
O'Connor on Burns's Goddess of the Market
Review of Jennifer Burns's Goddess of the Market: Ayn Rand and the American Right (Oxford University Press, 2009). ISBN: 978-0-19-532487-7 (hardcover). 384 pp., 9.3 x 6.3 x 1.4.Review by Mike O'Connor
Georgia State University
As a young, naïve and impressionable college freshman, I fancied myself as sallying forth into the wide world of intellectual discourse, and drank shallowly from a large number of pools. I chanted with a quasi-Buddhist group until they asked me for money, was disappointed in the lack of clarity in the goals of the university socialist organization, and stuck with the chorus for an entire year. But one group whose meetings I did not attend was the Objectivist Society; I found their sign on the campus bulletin board puzzling to the point of being disturbing.
Objectivism is the name that novelist and philosopher Ayn Rand (1905-1982) had given to her body of thought. Rand took a rather exclusionary tone and strident attitude to intellectual discourse, and her campus followers had evidently followed in her footsteps. Rather than offering free pizza or other inducements in the fashion of many such organizations, the Objectivists instead challenged any interested parties to prove their worthiness. Would-be Objectivists were confronted with three fundamental principles that they must accept. First, one must...[Continue here]
O'Connor on Burns's Goddess of the Market
Review of Jennifer Burns's Goddess of the Market: Ayn Rand and the American Right (Oxford University Press, 2009). ISBN: 978-0-19-532487-7 (hardcover). 384 pp., 9.3 x 6.3 x 1.4.Review by Mike O'Connor
Georgia State University
As a young, naïve and impressionable college freshman, I fancied myself as sallying forth into the wide world of intellectual discourse, and drank shallowly from a large number of pools. I chanted with a quasi-Buddhist group until they asked me for money, was disappointed in the lack of clarity in the goals of the university socialist organization, and stuck with the chorus for an entire year. But one group whose meetings I did not attend was the Objectivist Society; I found their sign on the campus bulletin board puzzling to the point of being disturbing.
Objectivism is the name that novelist and philosopher Ayn Rand (1905-1982) had given to her body of thought. Rand took a rather exclusionary tone and strident attitude to intellectual discourse, and her campus followers had evidently followed in her footsteps. Rather than offering free pizza or other inducements in the fashion of many such organizations, the Objectivists instead challenged any interested parties to prove their worthiness. Would-be Objectivists were confronted with three fundamental principles that they must accept. First, one must...[Continue here]
Selasa, 03 November 2009
call for papers: William James
Call for Papers
A Symposium for Honoring
—and making use of—William James:
In the Footsteps of William James
The William James Society is planning a long-weekend symposium, August 13-16, 2010 (please note the changed date from earlier announcements), to honor the life of James on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of his death. In the spirit of James, the symposium, “In the Footsteps of William James,” will be an opportunity to explore the local settings of James’s life and to reflect on James’s ability to encounter experience afresh and approach problems creatively.
The symposium will therefore have 2 dimensions and we seek presenters for both:
1. with the symposium taking place at Chocorua, NH, and Cambridge, MA, we call for presenters familiar with his life in either or both places who could serve as guides for the participants; there are some residents in both places that will already be serving this role, so our primary call is for our second dimension;
2. for a symposium as much about the public intellectual significance of James’s thought as his scholarly contributions, we call for presenters who can address issues of historic and contemporary relevance as illuminated by James’s life and work, for sessions to include topics such as these:
- The Pragmatist Turn, and its potential for reconciling disputes and fostering common sense in public discourse,
- Values Voters and Valuing Citizenship, on the uses of his theories for comprehending differences and encouraging listening, and his speaking out against social injustice,
- Educational Renewal, from James’s own classroom experiences to his talks to teachers and about education, to his potential to foster opening of minds,
- Spirituality and Belief, with James in anticipation of the endurance of religion and spirituality in secular settings and of theories for embracing differences of belief,
- Mental Health, from his theory of habits to his inspirations to help people with addiction and to encourage the research in positive psychology,
- Appraisals of James by his colleagues, friends, students, and successors in various fields.
Please send an abstract of 100 words and a brief description of qualifications to the William James Symposium Committee by January 15, 2010 to:
*Lynn Bridgers, Secretary-Treasurer of the William James Society: l.bridgers@worldnet.att.net; or 7705 Spring Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM 87110
*Paul Croce, President of the William James Society or Box 8274, Stetson University, 421 N. Woodland Blvd., DeLand, FL 32720; or
*John Kaag or Department of Philosophy, University of Massachusetts, Lowell, 102 Olney Hall, Lowell, MA 01856
Presentations at the Symposium will be considered for publication in the Society’s William James Studies.
call for papers: William James
Call for Papers
A Symposium for Honoring
—and making use of—William James:
In the Footsteps of William James
The William James Society is planning a long-weekend symposium, August 13-16, 2010 (please note the changed date from earlier announcements), to honor the life of James on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of his death. In the spirit of James, the symposium, “In the Footsteps of William James,” will be an opportunity to explore the local settings of James’s life and to reflect on James’s ability to encounter experience afresh and approach problems creatively.
The symposium will therefore have 2 dimensions and we seek presenters for both:
1. with the symposium taking place at Chocorua, NH, and Cambridge, MA, we call for presenters familiar with his life in either or both places who could serve as guides for the participants; there are some residents in both places that will already be serving this role, so our primary call is for our second dimension;
2. for a symposium as much about the public intellectual significance of James’s thought as his scholarly contributions, we call for presenters who can address issues of historic and contemporary relevance as illuminated by James’s life and work, for sessions to include topics such as these:
- The Pragmatist Turn, and its potential for reconciling disputes and fostering common sense in public discourse,
- Values Voters and Valuing Citizenship, on the uses of his theories for comprehending differences and encouraging listening, and his speaking out against social injustice,
- Educational Renewal, from James’s own classroom experiences to his talks to teachers and about education, to his potential to foster opening of minds,
- Spirituality and Belief, with James in anticipation of the endurance of religion and spirituality in secular settings and of theories for embracing differences of belief,
- Mental Health, from his theory of habits to his inspirations to help people with addiction and to encourage the research in positive psychology,
- Appraisals of James by his colleagues, friends, students, and successors in various fields.
Please send an abstract of 100 words and a brief description of qualifications to the William James Symposium Committee by January 15, 2010 to:
*Lynn Bridgers, Secretary-Treasurer of the William James Society: l.bridgers@worldnet.att.net; or 7705 Spring Ave NE, Albuquerque, NM 87110
*Paul Croce, President of the William James Society or Box 8274, Stetson University, 421 N. Woodland Blvd., DeLand, FL 32720; or
*John Kaag or Department of Philosophy, University of Massachusetts, Lowell, 102 Olney Hall, Lowell, MA 01856
Presentations at the Symposium will be considered for publication in the Society’s William James Studies.
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