Can the Humanities survive
distance learning?
1. Introduction |
2. Distance learning and Humanities | 3.
A question of prestige
2. Distance learning and the Humanities
Anyone who has fallen in love with an email correspondent will know that the technology of distance learning does nothing to curtail transference, of course, and I have tried to imagine a learning situation in which electronic cathexis would enhance humanities knowledge-production. But humanities work is only partly about eliciting emotion from the student-subject. More importantly, humanities work entails disciplining that emotion into a studied, studious engagement with cultural materials, and this requires someone who can direct inquiry, ask questions, call on others in the class, manage and redirect individual emotion so that it becomes impersonal, or, as I have already suggested, intersubjective. When it is conceptualized as an intersubjective project, in other words, humanities work requires a teacher—at least until the point at which the student learns how to be her own teacher, and how to make cultural materials her classmates and interlocutors. When I think about the dynamics of email, which entail both temporal deferral and a false impression of intimacy, I cannot imagine how a distance-teacher could elicit emotion in such a way as to direct and manage it. I cannot imagine how the student could feel sufficiently engaged to want to take the necessary risk. Is she does become engaged, I cannot imagine how a teacher could manage that engagement sight unseen. In short, I cannot imagine how a distance teacher could do anything except correct errors in the information the student supplies.
The obvious response to my worries is to say that the kind of work I have described cultivates and requires “advanced” humanities skills, which would never be the business of teaching in a distance format. Just as the “basic” skill necessary to solve problem sets in calculus could be taught more efficiently in a distance format, this argument goes, so the basic skills that are preliminary to such inter-subjective analysis could be taught through digital technology. Such a division of labor would free the literature professor, for example, from having to teach basic writing. Such a division of labor would free the professor of history from having to recite dates and test her students about famous names. If humanities professors could assume that students had acquired basic writing skills and mastered certain data before they entered the classroom, wouldn’t that mean that the kind of inter-subjectivity I have described would be easier to cultivate, since language skills and facts would already be at every student’s command?
Even though this is a tempting picture of humanities work liberated from the shackles of basic instruction, I don’t think it should seduce us with false promises. I am willing to entertain the possibility that one could teach “basic” writing skills through a distance format, even though the conventions of acceptable word usage and grammar are constantly changing. I am also willing to accept that one could compile bodies of information that might be considered essential to the various humanities disciplines and that one could convey this information in a format that could be tested in a distance learning mode. What I am not willing to entertain, much less accept, is that subdividing the humanities disciplines into two kinds of skills—basic and advanced—would preserve the mode of inquiry I have described. In other words, to argue that one language skill—the basic language skill—simply follows rules and conveys information, while another language skill—the advanced use of language—expresses an inter-subjective relationship between the desire of the speaker and the discipline of grammar sets up a false dichotomy that undermines the epistemological claims inherent in the mode of humanities inquiry. If we divide language use into two skills that differ in kind, in other words, then we imply that some language acts (the “basic” ones) defy the principle of inter-subjectivity that I have associated with the humanities. We have no theoretical account of language that allows us to make this claim, nor can we defend its corollary: if we divide language use into two skills, we are implying that some kinds of knowledge-production are not about the subject-who-writes but only about the object being described. The same principle holds in the case of the argument about information. If we agree that it is possible to compile a body of facts that are not interpretive or the products of interpretation, then we are assuming that inter-subjective interpretation is not essential to humanities knowledge-production but secondary or optional. As I’ve already said, we could (and often do) entertain such ideas, but when we do, we start down the slippery slope that would eventually assimilate knowledge-production in the humanities to its scientific counterpart. (Everything I’ve said about inter-subjective knowledge in the humanities could be said about scientific knowledge, but, at this point, few scientists are willing to acknowledge this epistemology. This means that theorists in the humanities pose the only challenge to the objectivism that currently governs other knowledge projects in the university.)![]() |
| The pleasure of reading |
Let me be clear about
what I am saying. I am arguing, on
the one hand, that what is often called “basic writing” is inseparable from
the work I’ve associated with the humanities.
On the other hand, I’m also arguing that the humanistic activities of
conserving, appreciating, interrogating, and interpreting cultural materials is
inseparable from writing, which is never simply “basic” but always already
interpretive and expressive. One
simply can’t conserve, analyze, appreciate, interrogate or interpret anything
without a medium that links one subject to another.
In the humanities, the medium of expression is language and all language
is expressive. One’s ability to
think in language, and to marshall language that negotiates desire, is therefore
inseparable from one’s ability to do humanistic work. Language use that is
simply “correct” (as in grammatically correct) is not so much the basis upon
which more sophisticated work is founded but part of the process by which one
learns to shape and discipline inquiry inter-subjectively.
If we begin to use a technology that leads us to conceptualize some
languages uses as “basic,” then we are in danger of imagining that only
explicitly interpretive or expressive language uses engage inter-subjectively
with others. Accepting this false dichotomy is the first step toward relegating
what may initially seem like “advanced” language skills and knowledge
projects to the dustheap of the purely subjective—that is, to what is now
thought of as worthless because tainted by subjective desire.
The mode of inquiry and the theory of knowledge I have associated with
the humanities provide the only bases for a defense of a conceptualization of
knowledge that links the knowing subject to the objects she seeks to know. If we allow the mode of inquiry deployed by the humanities to
be subdivided, so that its “basic” components can be taught by rote, we risk
losing the only credible alternative to an objectivist epistemology (and
everything that follows from it).