Laying the Foundation: Digital Humanities in Academic Libraries

Preface

Laying the Foundation¹

This volume was inspired by a conference held at the College of Charleston in June 2014. Many of the participants in that conference, Data Driven: Digital Humanities in the Library, are also contributors to this book; however, it is notable that the book is not the published proceedings of the conference. The essays compiled here are not simply expanded and refined versions of some of the conference presentations. Instead, they are largely a reflection of the informal conversations and serendipitous learning that truly made Data Driven a success. Many of the contributors were also presenters at the conference. Some of the volume’s authors, such as Stewart Varner, attended the conference, but did not make a formal presentation. Others, such as Sarah Melton, were not in attendance, but were cited as influential in creating digital humanities (DH) scholarship in the library. Rather than attempting to provide little more than a transcript of the conference itself, Laying the Foundation: Digital Humanities in Academic Libraries is an expanded discussion of the core themes that emerged from the conference—namely, that the ways in which humanists organize and interact with their data is largely dependent on how that data is collected, described, and made available in academic libraries, archives, and museums.

DH practitioners utilize digital tools and innovative pedagogy to more deeply examine cultural, architectural, and historical records. A central theme of this volume is that archives, museums, and libraries provide much of the physical and virtual space where the digital humanities happen. Therefore, it follows that the institutions that house the artifacts, records, and digital assets that make many DH research projects possible should play a vital role in how that research is created and curated. It is with this in mind that we decided to change the title of the volume to reflect the central theme that emerged from the conference—that, at many institutions, it is libraries and librarians that maintain DH infrastructures and make learning through the digital humanities possible. Even when libraries are not the campus home for DH centers, it is clear that their collecting, description, and access policies have a dramatic impact on digital humanists. It is also clear, as demonstrated by several contributions to this book, that librarians can play a significant role in undergraduate instruction in the digital humanities.

Laying the Foundation is not an attempt to define the nebulous boundaries of what does and does not constitute digital humanities. Although its authors address this debate, the volume is instead intended as a conversation starter among rank-and-file librarians about how and why librarians, archivists, and museum professionals should engage with digital humanists as full partners in both research and teaching. The authors of this volume do address the differences between DH and digital history, as well as many of the other epistemological debates raging at academic conferences, on blogs and other social media, and in the pages of refereed journals dedicated to DH scholarship. However, our primary objective is to encourage librarians to recognize, as Trevor Muñoz so eloquently argues in Chapter 1, that DH scholarship is deeply rooted in and wholly compatible with library and archival science. Collectively, its authors argue that librarians are critical partners in DH instruction and inquiry and that libraries are essential for publishing, preserving, and making accessible digital scholarship.

Laying the Foundation is organized into four sections. The first attempts to address the relationship between DH scholarship and the library. Muñoz contends that libraries and library administrators should incorporate digital humanities into the core conceptual equipment and the work practices of librarians. He argues that there are tangible benefits to encouraging academic inquiry among librarians—that librarians should look beyond academic work as an opportunity to provide a service and instead be full and equal partners in all that DH has to offer. Likewise, James Baker determines that the central function of libraries (to collect, catalog, and preserve knowledge) is, for both good and bad, the cornerstone of the digital humanities. He notes that the collection and description of historiography provides source material for new methods of inquiry. Conversely, he also concludes that library practices are also often the cause of frustrating constraints for DH scholars.

The second section examines the practice of DH scholarship in the library. Katherine Rawson’s contribution, for example, examines how generations of librarians and their communities have played a valuable role in preserving and making accessible a treasure trove of materials related to the study of foodways in New York. Mary Battle, Tyler Mobley, and Heather Gilbert provide a blueprint for digital libraries seeking to address the issue of silences in their collections through the careful curation of professional digital exhibits that provide a broader context for explaining underrepresented histories in archival collections. Similarly, Seth Kotch explains how the lessons learned through a generation of DH scholarship have helped shape and make more accessible the oral history collection for the Long Women’s Movement at the University of North Carolina.

The third section combines the experiences of academic librarians in the development of DH centers at Emory University, the University of Kansas, and the University of Colorado Boulder. The essays by Sarah Melton and by Brian Rosenblum and Arienne Dwyer contend that library administrators can reallocate resources within existing organizations to answer campus demand for digital scholarship/humanities resources. The chapter authored by Rosenblum and Dwyer is especially adept at describing many of the unexpected pitfalls of launching a large DH center in a time of more competition for campus resources. Thea Lindquist, Holley Long, and Alexander Watkins argue that reconstructing existing DH programs within the university can generate broader and more efficient support for digital humanities scholarship in the library.

The final section is focused on pedagogy and instruction. We hope that, for many librarians, this section provides some guidance for integrating DH into library instruction. Benjamin Fraser and Jolanda-Pieta van Arnhem and also Harriet Green describe how they have fit DH instruction into existing bibliographic instruction models. Stewart Varner contends that such a reallocation of resources within the library is not so much a change of direction or consolidation, but part of the larger evolution of digital pedagogy in a direction that favors librarians who are well suited to engage students and faculty in discussions focused in the areas of digital mapping, text analysis, multimedia websites/online exhibits, and Wikipedia editing.

In the introduction to a collection of essays dedicated to DH in the Journal of Library Administration in January 2013, Barbara Rockenbach contended that [l]ibraries are well positioned to support DH because [l]ibraries have always been places of interdisciplinary activity; places of neutrality not associated with any particular academic department.² As Rockenbach suggests, academic libraries are nexuses of research and technology—resources made available to students and faculty regardless of discipline or departmental affiliation. However, adding digital humanities to the core mission of the academic library requires a clear understanding of the resources and skills required. This knowledge is especially important to library administrators who routinely struggle with resource allocation in times of high demand and shrinking budgets. In our conversations with our counterparts at the Data Driven conference and in the pages of Laying the Foundation, we were pleased to find a community of librarian scholars who shared our interests and values and addressed these resource requirements head on in their own institutions. We hope that the arguments and case studies presented in the pages that follow will not only enliven the discussion of DH in the library and contribute to a burgeoning field of inquiry, but also assist librarians in their quest to lay a foundation for digital humanities research and pedagogy in their own institutions.

John W. White, PhD

June 2015

NOTES

1 The editors would like to thank Amanda Noll, project coordinator of the Low-country Digital History Initiative. This volume would not have come together without her tireless assistance.

2 Barbara Rockenbach, Introduction, Journal of Library Administration 53 (January 2013): 3.

Part 1

WHY DIGITAL HUMANITIES

IN THE LIBRARY?

INTRODUCTION

The many discussions—at conferences, on blogs, and in the professional literature—about how librarians can best engage with the digital humanities (DH) reveal a notable absence. The position of digital humanities work in many academic research libraries—as a service point for specialized consulting or training—suggests that DH is widely seen as external to the core functions of research libraries. What this suggests, in the context of librarianship’s historical development as a profession, is that the possibilities of digital humanities research in the library have been shaped by the absence of a strong tradition of humanist library theory and practice. Incorporating digital humanities into the conceptual equipment and the work practices of more librarians could help to develop a tradition of humanist librarianship suited to our present technological age.

THE VALUE OF DIGITAL HUMANITIES BEYOND THE TACTICAL

Because of librarianship’s history, there is particular risk in treating the digital humanities as a tactical term.¹ Much of the current debate over the place of digital humanities within librarianship is unsatisfying precisely to the extent that it is occupied with the reality of circumstances in which [‘the digital humanities’] is unabashedly deployed to get things done—‘things’ that might include getting a faculty line or funding a staff position, … revamping a lab, or launching a center.² If, in an academic library context, support for the digital humanities can generate support for a new space or a new professional position, why not package the digital humanities with another new activity and refer to the whole as digital scholarship and multiply the potential return by appealing to other, wealthier precincts of a campus at the same time? From a tactical, managerial perspective—indeed, why not? This chapter will suggest that it may be possible for librarianship to win a great deal of tactical success but lose out on an intellectual transformation vital to the profession’s longevity and impact.

READING RESEARCH

Behind and beneath many of the current debates about how to understand and incorporate digital humanities are larger and more long-standing questions about the place of research in librarianship. Reflecting, from the perspective of a library administrator, on some of the institutional challenges that often block librarians from doing digital humanities, Mike Furlough concludes: Is research the library’s core business?³ This question is only one instance of a concern that repeatedly breaks into the open at the fault line between the tactical and the intellectual considerations of digital humanities. As Furlough again asks: Research … sure, it’s a core activity of the faculty, but is it a core business function of the University? Despite its facetiousness, this response highlights the doubled nature of these and similar objections to the place of research, and by extension the digital humanities, in librarianship. First, there is an othering of research as a domain belonging to the faculty (regardless of the fact that librarians at many institutions hold some kind of faculty status). Second, the common patterns of professional discourse seem to divide research into two kinds: topics related to the efficient business operations of libraries as institutional structures, and everything else.⁴ The former is strongly preferred so that, even when research is admitted as part of librarianship, it seems like an extension of management.

Lest the foregoing critique be mistakenly assumed to apply to one or a few individuals, a close reading of a report/editorial titled Top Trends in Academic Libraries, authored by no less a professional/institutionalized voice than the Association of College and Research Libraries (ACRL) Research Planning and Review Committee, exhibits many of the same features. This report, published in the June 2014 issue of College and Research Libraries News, functions as a kind of prioritized environmental scan produced by a major professional organization and is meant, one suspects, as less a communication of new findings than as a confirmation—a mutual signaling that there is sufficient national momentum to consider this particular evolving area a good bet for some kind of engagement in a library’s local environment. The statement on digital humanities reads, in its entirety:

Academic libraries can play a key role in supporting humanities faculty in their research by creating partnerships and collaborations and helping to connect with other campus units needed to implement and carry out digital humanities research.⁵

Almost everything about this summary seems, if not wrong as a description of a certain common attitude, then at least equally revealing of assumptions about librarianship that transcend the particular issue of digital humanities.

From the first phrase—Academic libraries can play a key role … —there are signs of trouble. The substitution of an institution, academic libraries, for any specific actors (i.e., the librarians who make an institution what it is) signals that the claims to follow are directed toward the marketing and perpetuation of a particular organizational structure rather than anything else.⁶ The next phrase identifies a target market segment (humanities faculty) for this pitch. The assertion that "academic libraries can play a key role in supporting humanities faculty in their research (emphasis added) again locates research somewhere else on campus and not also within libraries conducted and directed by librarians. The fact that the members of the ACRL committee who selected digital humanities meant to highlight opportunities for collaboration but handle the subject in a way that undermines its possibilities suggests an internal dissonance worth noting. If digital humanities research belongs to the faculty, what is the basis for deeper collaboration that is not merely instrumental? Noting that roles for librarians in digital humanities work are often shaped toward things that librarians are perceived to be good at doing, like project management, Roxanne Shirazi asks: What does [it] mean for collaborative scholarship between librarians and faculty when project management and other ‘major service activit[ies]’ [are] so clearly secondary to ‘actual research’?"⁷ In the passage by the ACRL committee quoted above, the way in which the specific language on collaboration is constructed leaves ambiguous whether librarians are counted in these collaborations and connections or whether librarians are merely facilitating, moving jigsaw pieces around to connect other unrelated parties in a kind of a matchmaking service that leaves the library-as-institution safely funded but ultimately uncommitted.

The language of the last section of the ACRL committee’s statement on digital humanities has industrial overtones: libraries "help to connect with other campus units needed to implement and carry out digital humanities research (emphasis added). This description echoes one of the more stinging caricatures of digital humanities, from Alan Liu’s essay Where Is Cultural Criticism in the Digital Humanities":

It is as if, when the order comes down from the funding agencies, university administrations, and other bodies mediating today’s dominant socioeconomic and political beliefs, digital humanists just concentrate on pushing the execute button on projects that amass the most data for the greatest number, process that data most efficiently and flexibly (flexible efficiency being the hallmark of postindustrialism), and manage the whole through ever smarter standards, protocols, schema, templates, and databases uplifting Frederick Winslow Taylor’s original scientific industrialism into ultraflexible postindustrial content management systems camouflaged as digital editions, libraries, and archives—all without pausing to reflect on the relation of the whole digital juggernaut to the new world order.⁸

Certainly, there are things that need to be implemented and carried out to bring research to fruition. Data needs to be processed, standards do need to be updated and upheld, and faculty need to be supported. Yet, to frame libraries’ engagement with the possibilities of digital humanities in ways that draw unreflectively from this Taylorist tradition is to risk falling into the caricature that Liu critiques and to miss the real, transformative value that digital humanities work can offer.

UNCOVERING HISTORIES OF THE LIBRARIAN ROLE

Is it possible to find historical origins for some of these assumptions that seem to shape and condition the possibilities for digital humanities librarianship in unfortunate ways?

Discourses around the issue of research lead back to and through a particular set of historical contingencies (in the U.S. context) that have created this current librarianship that seems sufficiently incommensurable with the modern humanities to potentially blunt the transformative possibilities of a digital humanities. Library historian Wayne Wiegand traces some of these contingencies back to the unique professional configuration that librarianship assumed in the last quarter of the nineteenth century.⁹ By professional configuration, Wiegand means the structure of claims librarianship made for unique expertise and authority in the fast-growing world of new professions.¹⁰ He argues that the socioeconomic class and educational background of most late-nineteenth-century librarians and library administrators was such that these groups shared relatively homogenous ideas about a cultural canon and the relationship between literacy and a certain form of social order.¹¹ Thus, according to Wiegand, [T]he library science that emerged … generally embraced two practical concerns: the ‘science’ of administering an institutional bureaucracy and an expertise unique to the institution being administered.¹² Casting this in more general terms, Christine Pawley observed that library and information studies have chiefly operated within discourses of pluralism and managerialism.¹³

The absence of a humanist tradition of library theory and practice cannot be directly connected to the imprint of information-work-as-industrial-labor that Wiegand and Pawley describe. In the late 1920s, a group of researchers and library leaders, which became quite influential due to the crucial aid and funding of the Carnegie Corporation, made a concerted effort to enlarge the definition of what could be meant by librarianship using the ascendant episteme of their day: science.¹⁴

The locus for the group’s efforts was the newly created Graduate Library School (GLS) at the University of Chicago. Where earlier library schools were largely, even explicitly, vocational by the 1920s, as Harris recounts, This practical …, intuitive, and experiential approach to education began to draw some fire.¹⁵ The GLS was one response to this situation—it represented the culmination of several years of professional debate as well as a stream of funding from the Carnegie Corporation. In the first issue of The Library Quarterly (LQ), the new professional journal born of the same reform initiatives, Douglas Waples, the acting dean as well as a faculty member in the school, noted mildly that, because much of the editorial work of producing the LQ was to be done by GLS staff, readers of the journal should accordingly have some interest in the School’s policies and activities which the journal must in some measure reflect.¹⁶ Waples’s article set off a highly visible round of the contentious debate over what the GLS project represented for librarianship. It is worth emphasizing that contemporaries on both sides recognized that plans for the new school represented a site at which the meaning of librarianship was being (re)constructed—largely through a debate about the character of research.

The heart of the contention was Waples’s discussion, halfway through his report on policies and activities in LQ, of the sort of library science to which research during the next years should contribute. What is crucial to note is that science in this context had a historically specific valence. In outlining the program of the GLS, Waples marks his allegiance to a version of science created and popularized by the philosopher John Dewey. Dewey gained enormous influence as a popularizer of science by promoting a version of the scientific method as a flexible and generalizable approach to problem solving across domains.¹⁷ Dewey’s approach differed from an earlier wave of science popularizers in the late nineteenth century who promulgated descriptions of science as an offshoot of rigorous logic and empiricism.¹⁸ Dewey’s interest in science was as a model of knowledge construction: Science signifies … the existence of systematic methods of inquiry, which when they are brought to bear on a range of facts, enable us to understand them better and control them more intelligently.¹⁹ Thus, in his article on What Is a Library Science?, Waples declares that Dewey’s book The Sources of a Science of Education:

gives organization and clear perspective to the pros and cons of scientific method as applied to a social enterprise like librarianship. No writing has appeared to date which in short space so helpfully presents a philosophy of research in the social studies.²⁰

Waples’s chief interlocutor in the pages of LQ, C. Seymour Thompson, begins his first reply by noting archly that It seems we have become pretty well agreed that we have not now a library science, but we are apparently determined that we will have one.²¹ Yet Thompson largely accepts Dewey’s science as the definitional ground upon which the debate over a library science will be conducted.

To understand the prospects of digital humanities ideas and approaches in librarianship, the more interesting elements of the debates over library science and the GLS are the responses of critics, especially those critics arguing from a humanist tradition. Thompson’s critique of Waples and the GLS program is not the defense of a status quo, but is instead an alternate proposal for reform. He accepts the findings (if not the recommendations) of reports, such as that prepared by C. C. Williamson, which described shortcomings in the professional background and training of librarians—the same reports that provided the impetus for the founding of the GLS. We ourselves have too generally undervalued educational qualifications,²² Thompson writes. Thompson rejects the earlier, narrowly vocational managerial vision of librarianship: In developing a body of administrative methods adequate to meet the needs of the new ideals of service, for a long period we placed an exaggerated emphasis on technique and routine, from which we have not yet entirely recovered.²³ He also critiques the new vision of librarianship as Dewey-ian social research: Regardless of what may have been accomplished by the new research in other fields … our problems, our circumstances, and particularly, our aims and purposes differ so greatly from those of business that the analogy here is not trustworthy.²⁴ Thompson centers his alternative proposal on a link between libraries and a high-culture Victorian humanism: In trying to prove that we were of actual dollars and cents value, we lost much of the older admiration for the cultural value of the library.²⁵ Instead he advocates for "a revival of the bibliothecal spirit²⁶ (original emphasis) in the training and practices of librarianship. The classical Greek and Latin origins of bibliothecal, an adjective meaning belonging to a library" (OED), only emphasize the alignment