Saturday, February 12, 2011

Ah, here we go ...

... Peter has posted the remarks he sent me yesterday: Vida and the pie charts. (Hat tip, Dave Lull.)

4 comments:

  1. Part of the problem is that "prejudice" has become a dirty word. We all have them.

    If I were editor in chief of some fine periodical, I would use those pie charts to see if I could identify my own prejudices and inclinations. And by inclinations I mean, for instance, those relationships and tastes that I have, so much of which come out of my own subcultures, whatever they are.

    If I found that the reviewers I selected were 2/3 white men, and the books to review similar, I would not want to knee jerk into saying that the reason is that the white men are just writing better stuff.

    I should rather ask, okay, where are my prejudices and inclinations? Do I find it easier to recruit excellent white men, and might I not be finding what they write more interesting and incisive to literature and life? What Asians and Latinos and Negroes and American Indians have I not been considering?

    If I find that they are out there, that on my search I find books to review and people to review them that cut the pie more evenly, then I must keep something else in mind. It might be a little difficult for me to pull that Brazilian woman and that black guy away from the periodicals they are comfortable serving. They may have prejudices and inclinations to partner with publications that serve their particular cultures and subcultures.

    The point here is not to then say that this natural separation is good, but to realize that if my hunch was that I have been leaning too far toward white men, that I may need to double my efforts to get the pieces of the pie cut more equitably.

    Peter is right, that you cannot have all of everything represented. When you cut the pie to thin ultimately you get all us billions of individuals, somehow different than each other, different ages, heights, diseases, and so forth. My point is not that we would look for perfection, and some insistence on objective quotas, although they can serve a purpose if the pie chart is obviously not right, but that I'll be willing to bet that each editor everywhere has been dishing reviews out with inequity. We are all prejudiced, after all.

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  2. What Rus said.

    I'd only underline one point: I think it would be far more honest to just admit to one's own positions, prejudices, and so forth. That way, if someone doesn't like my journal because they see a bias in it they don't like, they can found their own—ever easier now. The chances are that I would publish a journal of Stuff I Liked. Which is fine? But I wouldn't pretend otherwise. I'd openly embrace my taste, being the editor and all. I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

    What I think is interesting about all this is that people bend over backward to NOT let their taste make choices, while using "quality" or "the best" as their rationale—but those, too, my friends, are matters of taste, in the end. The problem is when we pretend otherwise. It's the dishonesty that is bothering people at least as much as the lack of representation.

    Or so it seems to me.

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  3. As for Peter's statement that the TLS is open to new writers, etc., I'm sure he means it. But experience teaches otherwise. In fact, most such institutions as the TLS usually call on their stable of tried-and-true, and don't actively seek out new writers. (Well, who has infinite amounts of time to do so, anyway? It's understandable.) But please don't tell me you're that open when in practice you are not, nor can you afford to be.

    Once again, I find what I'm being to create cognitive dissonance—which is what started this whole discussion, ennit?

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  4. Hi Art,
    When I was still a book editor, I actually did seek out new writers. In particular, I sought out bloggers whose work I liked. Among my few regrets is that I didn't ask more. But of course, by then, space and budgets were shrinking.

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