Made Not Born: The Power of the Humanities in Capitalism

Not to get all technical, but most of the time the capitalist market is almost shockingly reified, even by academics who you think would know better. The market, at best a rough description of a myriad of social and economic forces, seems to be constantly doing things that we just can’t do much about. Sometimes it’s explicit and almost religious in tone– the market is omnipotent and infallible– and sometimes its implicit.

There’s rarely any larger agency behind the decimation of the U.S. automobile industry, for example; it’s simply the unions and foreign competition. (More recently, however, poor management is sometimes blamed.) It didn’t just happen, though, by magic; the industry was destroyed by short term thinking and by a long term drive to weaken unions in the United States. The specifics of the history will be debated for a long time, but it was people, and greed, not the market, that made it happen.

I had the same same sort of reaction to a recent piece in the Chronicle of Higher Education (“We Need to Acknowledge the Realities of Employment in the Humanities“). It’s not so much that the author has his facts wrong, he’s done his research. No, what bothers me is his implicit assumption that our only real choice is to adapt to the current conditions of “the market.” History, it seems, has moved on, and all the humanities can do is try to live as well as possible in this brave new world.

Don’t get me wrong, that aggregate of social forces we call the market is no limp biscuit and creating a new set of conditions for the humanities won’t be easy. It’s been done before, though, under much worse conditions. In fact, the “humanities” system now lamented by so many, and dominated among other things by full time tenured faculty, was established during the middle decades of the last century, a time dominated by world war and depression.

What was different? We were coming out of a period of progressive reform, for one thing, and for another, the working class was much better organized and much more actively fighting for it’s own interests. Even if academics never fully joined the unionization movement, the power of labor in this period led to all sorts of generous concessions, including a liberal higher education system. The place of the humanities wasn’t born, it was made in struggle. It won’t return without more of the same sort of fighting.

Library to World: The Reports of My Death are Greatly Exaggerated

Nearly one-third of Americans age 14 or older – roughly 77 million people – used a public library computer or wireless network to access the Internet in the past year, according to a national report released today. In 2009, as the nation struggled through a recession, people relied on library technology to find work, apply for college, secure government benefits, learn about critical medical treatments, and connect with their communities.

“Study: A Third of Americans Use Library Computers”

This is one of those ironic bits of good news. On the one hand, it suggests the enormous importance of the library in a democratic society; on the other, it suggests something about the enormous scale of U.S. poverty in general and in the recession. It’s also a rebuff to those radical conservatives that see all government services as nefarious and to those technology Utopians (or Dystopians) who have long predicted the demise of the public library. Class trumps both.

I think the librarians, and their professional organizations, should get the credit for making sure that the library keeps up with technology in the service of making information freely available. That’s an important element in the ongoing attempts to ameliorate the impact of capital (aka the class struggle). It also shows that the computer, unlike the television (or the radio elsewhere) has yet to reach true ubiquity. The machines may be cheaper, but the machines alone don’t get you access. Broadband remains expensive.

The struggle never ends, of course, and the hope is that these sorts of studies will revitalize funding for public libraries. (Would the wacky Tea Beggars (sorry, Baggers) complain about money for library technology? No doubt they would find a way.) I can’t help but wonder, too, if the library has become a new sort of public square for many, particularly in poor urban neighborhoods and isolated small towns. Thanks to 30 years of conservative reactionary politics, it may well be the last and perhaps the only place you can go just to get the tools you need to survive.

Cultural Capital Never Wastes a Crisis

If you are unfamiliar with the idea of education as a form of cultural capital, it’s easy to think of the idea as static. You either have it or you don’t. The Open Education movement, as recently described in the New York Times (“As Colleges Make Courses Available Free Online, Others Cash In”), however nicely illustrates that education cultural capital works as a complex dynamic, an economy or an ecosystem. It’s capital, and so it doesn’t simply accumulate, it circulates, and as it circulates it changes, sometimes subtly.

In this case,the implicit question seems to be, “what happens to the educational capital of, say, Harvard or Yale if they give away their course materials.” In one sense, of course, these course materials (objectified capital) allow access to the institutional capital; if you invest the time and energy, you should be able to accumulate the same capital as any other student. It’s not so simple, of course. As the educators cited in the piece imply, the capital is transformed by severing it so radically from the setting–the classroom–in which it is accumulated.

You can’t accumulate the social capital of an elite degree from a distance, not without the development of particular systems, such as hybrid courses. Institutions risk little by making this material freely available; in fact, they broaden institutional capital by sharpening its philanthropic image, a necessity a liberal democratic society. It’s not a give away, in fact, but a form of accumulation. What’s interesting, of course, is that others– individually or collectively– might find ways to leverage the open source materials in new ways.

The Next Technological Fix

I bought my first ”personal computer’ in the early 1980s, when my Uncle Benson died and left me a few thousand dollars. (I won’t say what I did with the rest of the money.) I’ve been teaching using PC’s since the early 1990s; and full-time people online for the last several years. So I am no Luddite. I have to say, though, that I am beginning to get tired of the successive waves of technological change and the accompanying claims for education.

A Is for App: How Smartphones, Handheld Computers Sparked an Educational Revolution,” is typical of the big claims for technology genre. These arguments always have two main themes. The first claim is that some capability of the new technology allows students and teachers to do things they have never done before and so accelerate learning. The second, and related claim, is that while the technology seems expensive, it will soon be ubiquitous.

Each successive wave of claims tends to either ignore or minimize the relative successes of the previous wave. In “A Is for Apps,” the writer uses television as a straw man (a passive medium, unlike the I-Phone!) while claiming that mobile phones are replacing the personal computer as the preferred devise to access the internet. My theory is that many of these writers are so immersed in the NOW of consumer culture that they never really observe how technology is used.

Is a television in a Sports Bar on the night of the Super Bowl a passive medium? If everyone is talking about the last episode of Lost, is television a passive medium? Television, like any medium, is used in complex ways, depending on a myriad of factors. Similarly, it’s just silly to claim that if everyone has a “smart cell” phone we can “finally fix” education. Again, I think this sort of view is too beholden to consumer society and to a kind of Utopian rhetoric that serves as its justification.