Conversation (redux)

I went to a seminar tonight about getting published in a particular journal. I think it is a really great idea for people going into a field. I was introduced to the editorial board, and each member stood up to say “what they looked for”in article submissions. Of course, everyone said that they looked for the same things as the other members on the board. That was the fun part. It was like one of those things where a person whispers something into someone else’s ear and when you get to the other side, it never comes out the same.

The first panel member said “edgy.”By the time it got to the third, it became “I see my readers as busy adjuncts who haven’t got the time to read everything and they don’t want to feel stupid because they haven’t.”Okay, fair enough—however, if you don’t know what the mainstream is, how can you have any sense of the edges? Gradually, “edgy”was transformed into “practical.”Naturally, everyone has a slightly different idea of what practical is—for some, practical and theoretical are fairly synonymous. For several of the panelists, “historical”was practical. People need to know what has happened in the history of the discipline. For others, classroom practice (particularly case studies) were practical.

But the master keyword that survived all these transformations was “situated.”They all want innovation situated against a traditional backdrop. It seemed really paradoxical to me. The core of scholarly discourse is that new ideas are welcome, if and only if they are situated against a traditional background. Otherwise, it breaks the flow of the conversation. There is no room for radical innovation, only carefully considered revision. I found that interesting. It wasn’t news to me at all, but it was really fun to listen to it play itself out.

In many ways, the rules seemed to be that of polite conversation. Don’t name-call. Don’t assume that your audience understands all of your terms, particularly the technical ones. However, what seems missing is the quality of “turn-taking.”In scholarly writing, the establishment has all the power to determine what is relevant. No non-sequiturs, only casual steering is allowed. It seems little wonder that from the outside, so much of this type of writing seems stale. What seems expected is that you research an ongoing conversation, research some gap in that conversation, and then step in to fill it.

The assumption is that the conversation is already “whole”and does not need any grafting or pruning. One should only attempt to put another leaf on the tree. Shaking the tree is allowed, but no cutting. A few people openly invited the possibility that the tree might be shaken—at least politely.

I find all this really amusing. I think that the model of scholarly publishing is a good fit to conversational theories— much better than the fit of “conversation”in electronic discourse. Electronic discourse is far more discontinuous in nature, with no respect for tradition. I think it is the absence of “tradition”in the normal sense that makes it radically different. There is no price of admission, no test that one must pass or panel of editors to judge whether you contribution is “polite.”If it’s not polite, one of two things happens. People either click away in disgust, or they link to your stupidity and you rise to the top of the heap. The web seems nearly the opposite of polite conversation, actually.