The Interpretive Imperative: On-line Sources and the Future of Historical Scholarship By David Abrahamson Northwestern University FROM: Abrahamson, David. " The Interpretive Imperative: On-line Sources and the Future of Historical Scholarship." American Journalism, 13:2 (Spring 1997): in press. Abstract: Technology affords todayıs scholars a dynamic research tool. Though old habits die fast and often with good reason, the author argues that, despite its obvious advantages, electronic research should complement -- not replace -- traditional research methods. Of perhaps even greater moment, moreover, it is now clear that the nature and purposes of historical scholarship itself are being transformed by the new technology. For the last few years we have, as the apocryphal Chinese curse suggests, indeed been living in exciting times. At stake is the very nature of the scholarly vocation. And at the heart of the matter, it is now clear that, as information technology continues to evolve as a dynamic research tool, it is changing how scholars (and journalists) conduct historical research. From proprietary databases such America: History & Life, Historical Abstracts and Academic Index, available from third-party vendors such as Dialog, to the burgeoning wealth of public- domain World Wide Web sites, new sources of historically relevant information continue to influence scholarship in new and profound ways. For some, this is a highly attractive alternative. For others, it is an ill-considered shortcut that threatens to undermine the true research experience. In my own work, it has been a bit of both. My reflections here are the result of my own recent experiences. I have been working on a large historical project -- a scholarly work examining the intersection between media and culture -- and I have been using the Internet to try to do fairly straightforward historical scholarly research. Often, it has been a frustrating experience. Iıve stubbed my toe a number of times, and often it seems as if I'm engaged in some Promethean battle between the electron and the old-fashioned smudgy-ink- on-paper. What follows, clearly a work in progress, is what Iıve learned so far. Regardless of one's primary stance toward technology, the benefits of these new tools cannot be ignored. In a number of important ways, electronic research is not a replacement for conventional research methods, but a complement to the types of more traditional archival exploration that most historians employ -- and, let us admit, enjoy. Clearly, both have their advantages and problems. The most obvious advantages of on-line research are the incredible speed with which you can access information. Wide-ranging searches can be conducted with incredible ease. Perhaps the most intimidating obstacle is the language barrier. Hopping on to Information Highway can feel a bit like being transported to distant planet. You have landed on Mars; now you have to learn Martian if you expect to accomplish anything. Mostly, this mean getting comfortable with Boolean logic (and/or/not, etc.) and the specific query syntax of the different systems. Once you make this initial investment, overcome the language hump and master the system logic, incredible resources become available. At first, it can be a bit captivating. The electronic media can be quite seductive, particularly as deadlines approach. Isn't accessing information electronically from the comfort of your office preferable to the hassle of multiple trips to out-of-town libraries? From my own early experience with on-line research, I watched in amazement as all this wonderful stuff come to me in a matter of seconds, off the screen and into my hands. I was copying and printing out reams of material. I soon realized, however, that, despite the abundance and ease, there were problems. These problems fall into four categories. The first problem -- it is obvious but needs to be said -- concerns the accuracy of the information available on-line. Simply put, it is not trustworthy. That said, it is imperative that electronic sources used for scholarly purposes be subject to the same standards applied to journalism. At the very least, confirming information from a second source should be obtained for purposes of verification. There is, for example, a marked difference between holding an actual copy of an 1836 newspaper in your hands and looking at a putative copy of same that someone else keystroked onto their personal Web site. Indeed, in my experience, in almost every instance where I possessed prior first-hand knowledge before going to on-line source, some portion of the resulting online output has been somewhat suspect. The second difficulty is related to the first. Many electronic sources simply are not complete. Moreover, there is much material that is not yet available on-line. Most of the current databases of use to scholarly researchers -- e.g. ERIC, Sociological Abstracts, National Newspaper Index, etc.-- date back no further than the 1960s, when most of the keystroking data entry began. The third problem is more philosophical, and concerns the context in which historical material is found. What is missing is that wonderful feeling of unexpectedly finding something of unforeseen value in a file box. Often, what we as historians find is less important than where we found it, what folder it was in -- and that led to the discovery of something else. I personally find this type of investigative grubbing- around in the tangible, physical materials to be incredibly illuminating. It invariably takes me in new and useful directions, directions I never even knew were there. Yet this process becomes ³antisepticized,² if you will, on a computer screen. Much of the beauty of historical research is not so much the information discovered, but the discovery process itself. Granted, an electronic search is quite productive when you know what it is youıre looking for. Punch in the right key words, give the appropriate commands, and you get what you need in minutes. But in the virtual world of electronic searches, there is less chance we can grasp the context in which the information was nested. Now, it is true that the cataloging systems of better libraries have software that tells you what books are physically on either side of the specific title you called up, but I find that to be of only modest value. I still find it far more productive to actually go to the library myself and sniff around the shelves. Am I describing myself as some sort of nineteenth-century, mole-like character who shuffles home every night with dusty hands and dirty fingernails, feeling good to have put in a good day's labor on the story? Perhaps. But the context of the search is of critical importance to me and, I believe, other scholars. Which leads to the fourth problem with electronic research: the absence of accidental discovery. It is a serendipitous phenomena I have experienced throughout my working life. It is not just where the material is in the file or what was around it, but itıs the other file that we find in the other box. It is the surprises we as historical researchers could never predict. And this sort of material can almost never be obtained electronically. That said, electronic research is still a valuable scholarly tool when it supplements rather than supplants other research methods. Perhaps it is our responsibility as historians to learn to draw the line between research that can be done quickly and easily on-line, and the research that requires us to get in the cab, get on the airplane, and sniff around the archives, in situ, in person. So what are the implications of these new, somewhat imperfect tools? What do they mean for the practice of history? I have no sweeping answers to the question, but I can offer a four preliminary, and concluding, thoughts. First, the on-line world is changing historical scholarship in the same ways it is changing journalism. This shift revolves around a pair of complementary phenomena. Almost all of the public information -- government records, public archival material and the like -- that is on- line will soon be available to everyone. This universal access will be coupled with a related phenomenon, which involves the emergence of sophisticated "search engines." Powerful search engines, electronic programs that retrieve specific information at your command, will allow people to customize their informational searches. As a result, the information an individual wants will be delivered in more complete form, with fewer errors and fewer gaps. Second, I would argue that it is a certainty that this new access to and packaging of information will have consequences for historians. The traditional role of historian as mediator between information and the reading public is changing. As more people have access to the exact material they want, the distance between the reader and the information will contract. Historical information may, for example, in some sense become similar to a packaged good, a specific product targeted at a specific audience. And as a result, our role as historical mediators will be transformed. The question, of course, is how? Which leads to my third observation: Much traditional historical writing can be characterized as simple chronicle. And because technology will cede this function to a whole new, as-yet-unnamed category of information provider, the role of historians will, as never before, have to focus on interpretation, on adding value, on providing meaning. Do I sense a raised eyebrow? Has any historian, you may argue, ever written a piece of history that he or she didnıt claim was interpretive? Point well taken -- but now I suspect we are going to have to deliver on that promise as never before. And finally, my fourth and concluding point: If the new technology and its implications mean that, as historians, we must be far more rigorous about providing historical meaning, it also gives us the ability to communicate with other historians in ways we haven't in the past. I note the rise of electronic mail and the use of listserv discussion groups, and I detect a new and healthy willingness to share and refine our ideas with our fellow historians in a quick, summary form. We will be asked to take this new medium (which has to date largely been a form of vacuous entertainment) and find serious ways to employ it in the craft of history. The result? The advancement of the quality of our own scholarly product. I confess that the precise means to do this are not apparent to me yet. But I am certain that it will have something to do with spending more time on-line, making a renewed effort to communicate with other historians to test my ideas, sharing resources Iıve discovered. And my hope, if we are truly fortunate, is that this will lead to a shared sense of mutual inspiration. Copyright 1997 David Abrahamson. All rights reserved.