Apparently Paglia isn’t the only person who doesn’t think highly of the level of intellectual rigour of the average blogger.
Michael Lind’s review of Peter Singer’s book The President of Good and Evil: taking George W Bush seriously is not terribly complementary either.
Singer seems to have read little of the voluminous material on the history of the modern American conservative movement and Republican Party. Apart from newspaper/magazine articles, many of his sources are anti-Bush blogs, including one with the scholarly name of uggabugga.blogspot.com. Like a number of other recent books, The President of Good and Evil provides troubling evidence that the bad habits of the blogosphere are corrupting the world of print discourse. As in a blog, caches of documentary material are dumped between rambling riffs of opinion.
As a philosopher, I corruption of the young is part of my intellectual heritage. Corrupting print discourse doesn’t really have the same ring to it. What I really wonder though, is where all the anti-blogging sentiment is arising from.
Singer seems to have read little of the voluminous material on the history of the modern American conservative movement and Republican Party. Apart from newspaper/magazine articles, many of his sources are anti-Bush blogs, including one with the scholarly name of uggabugga.blogspot.com. Like a number of other recent books, The President of Good and Evil provides troubling evidence that the bad habits of the blogosphere are corrupting the world of print discourse. As in a blog, caches of documentary material are dumped between rambling riffs of opinion.
As a philosopher, I corruption of the young is part of my intellectual heritage. Corrupting print discourse doesn’t really have the same ring to it. What I really wonder though, is where all the anti-blogging sentiment is arising from.
Meta-blogging has been on people’s minds recently. Brian Weatherson’s post at Crooked Timber about kinds of blogging was followed up by this one from John Holbo on blogging and literary studies, and well the trackback pings lit up after that. There’s a lot of interesting stuff there if you follow the trackbacks.
I haven’t read Singer’s book, and so for all I know Lind’s other criticisms of Singer may hold. However, his complaint that Singer cites a lot of blogs seems out of bounds somehow. Now, questioning the veracity of someone’s sources is a legitimate form of criticism. Is my unpleasant reaction just because of the way unpleasant way Lind does it — the rhetorical flourish of sarcastically mentioning uggabugga’s unscholarly name, the subsequent jab at the writing styles of bloggers?
Citation guidelines tell people how to cite a wide range range of items — including personal communication and unpublished manuscripts — and it is not uncommon for philosophers to credit other people for “raising this objection in discussion”, and similar things. If a good objection comes from a blog post, or a comment on a blog post, why shouldn’t I cite it? Why shouldn’t Singer?
When it comes down to it, I think the reason Lind made me angry is not just the rhetorical flourish — its that I suspect Lind of a certain kind of elitism — the view that anything worth saying will have made its way through the gatekeepers of the publishing world — newspaper and journal editors, book publishers, etc. The irony is, I think that to some extent thats true — these gatekeepers do serve a valuable purpose. The thing is, not everything worth saying is publishable. Not every objection to a view can support a whole academic paper. Not every political observation will sustain an opinion piece. Sometimes to discuss such an observation I will have to cite personal communication, discussion (in bars or elsewhere) or even a blog.
But not everyone who has an opinion worth listening to has a job writing newspaper columns, or writes letters to the editor.
I read Lind’s review before seeing your comments (AL Daily, right?), and his attack on blogs as sources didn’t bother me as much at the time. I think part of the reason I didn’t feel bothered was that I hesitate to take blogs as seriously myself (even though I’m painfully, obviously addicted to them).
The best blogs tend to subject themselves to witheringly intense scrutiny, and run corrections practically in real time (at least compared to printed material). But unless you’re something of a “name brand” blogger, the lack of independent editorial control at least creates the appearance of being able to pull a fast one every now and then. I like to think that my readers don’t let me get away with too much on those occasions where I say something really questionable, but aside from my own conscience, there’s not much additional constraint on my ability to commit offenses that a competent editor would never let by.
Assuming good faith and sound editing practices on the part of everyone Singer cited, though, there are two things about bloggers which I imagine less tech savvy writers must find infuriating. One, bloggers are prone to flamboyance precisely where other writers are most sober — the name “Ugga Bugga” is at least a step down in tastefulness from earlier pen names, like George Eliot or Roger de Coverly (I have no opinion on UB’s content, though, not having read any of it). Two, some prominent bloggers seem to have a real inferiority complex about the validity of the form; I remember that last year, Andrew Sullivan went livid over an editorial (I forget by whom) saying that in a few years, the whole blog scene would have disappeared. Of course, he also frequently goes off about the superiority of blogs to print media, suggesting that even though he’s about as well-established in both print and electronic media as anyone could hope to be, he still is nervous that blogging might be perceived as less prestigious.
Much of this will go away as blogs survive long enough to establish a sense that they’re permanent publications, with real editorial standards (even if only self-enforced). I’m not sure this is a fair standard to hold blogs to — I think your comparison to personal communication citations is exactly right — but I can understand how people who don’t engage in it might feel excluded. Which is, of course, ironic given that it’s really about the least exclusionary medium out there.
On a personal note, I got into blogging about linguistics precisely so that I could stay in touch with the field after finishing grad school. I talk to more professors, on more topics, now than I ever did in all the LSA meetings I ever made it to (none). I never wanted to be a professor, but I’m happy not to be completely removed from the linguistics community. I might someday drop the pen name to add more credibility, but don’t presently do so for work-related reasons. Having said that, most of what I write isn’t publication worthy, and I don’t have any illusions about it. Someday, though, I might like to write a pop linguistics book, and the blog experience would be a valuable and frequently cited part of such an effort.
I too keep the pseudonym for work reasons. But when I retire, baby, the mask comes off!