Einherjar86
Active Member
Another good Aeon piece:
https://aeon.co/essays/why-a-moratorium-on-microaggressions-policies-is-needed
This is a good example of why humanities critics are wary of importing psychiatric, or ego psychological, knowledge into their scholarship. "Microaggression" is an example of a psychiatric term that is now being applied to sociological studies and symptoms, and it's inappropriate to the context. Those who claim to experience microaggressions may need some form of treatment or attention at the individual level, and this could yield some insight into potential systemic issues; but too often their complaints are targeted prematurely at the institutional level, which results in the kinds of contradictions that the author is describing.
Something I've learned from my dissertation advisor is that many people outside academia (and occasionally some within) too often see the kinds of arguments that emerge from humanities departments as prescriptive critiques of society at large. That is, they read books (or paintings, movies, music, buildings, etc.) and map those books onto the world in order to diagnose an ailment that needs correcting. My advisor has reminded me on more than one occasion that our work is descriptive, not prescriptive. We're not psychologists or philosophers, we're critics--and although critics can identify social ailments in cultural texts, it isn't our job to prescribe corrections to them.
To connect this back to the piece above, a novel can be seen as a microaggression when handled psychologically; but it isn't the critic's job to make the novel disappear (that shouldn't be anyone's job). The critic's job is to present the text in an expanded field (context, scale, etc.) so that we can better understand the reasons for our reactions, as varied as they might be.
If someone has a personal problem with a book, it's their job to talk with a specialist about it; not to have it removed from the syllabus.
https://aeon.co/essays/why-a-moratorium-on-microaggressions-policies-is-needed
Microaggression, like most and perhaps virtually all psychological constructs, such as intelligence, extraversion and schizophrenia, is what philosophers term an open concept, characterised by intrinsically fuzzy boundaries, an indeterminate list of indicators, and an unclear inner nature. Open concepts are not necessarily problematic. To the contrary, they often allow researchers to explore a poorly understood phenomenon in an open-ended way.
As scientific knowledge progresses and information accrues, the concept can become less ‘open’. For example, in the days of the 19th-century Austrian scientist Gregor Mendel and even much later, the gene was initially a ‘wide open’ concept, understood only as a hypothesised unit of transmission of heritable traits. With the discovery of the structure of DNA, the concept became considerably more closed. At the same time, there is the risk of an open concept being so imprecisely defined and porous in its boundaries that it is not at all apparent where it begins or ends. When this is the case, concepts become ripe for abuse by advocates with different, even opposing, political agendas.
In the case of the microaggression concept, it is dubious whether its definition is sufficiently clear or consensual to permit adequate scientific progress. For example, it is not evident which kinds of actions constitute a verbal, behavioural or environmental indignity, nor what severity of indignity is necessary for an action to constitute a microaggression.
All this vagueness and ambiguity can lead to outright contradictions in what is or is not a slight. For example, both ignoring and attending to minority students in classrooms have been deemed to be microaggressions by some authors: one researcher called out ‘teachers ignoring the raised hands of Asian-American students in classrooms’ as a microaggression. Another regarded complimenting the student with a remark such as ‘That was a most articulate, intelligent, and insightful analysis’ as a microaggression. In still other cases, they have regarded both praising and criticising minority individuals as microaggressions. In one striking example, researchers solicited reports of supervisor microaggressions from 10 African-American graduate students in clinical and counselling psychology programmes. The authors identified both withholding criticism from supervisees and providing them with tough criticism as microaggressions.
This is a good example of why humanities critics are wary of importing psychiatric, or ego psychological, knowledge into their scholarship. "Microaggression" is an example of a psychiatric term that is now being applied to sociological studies and symptoms, and it's inappropriate to the context. Those who claim to experience microaggressions may need some form of treatment or attention at the individual level, and this could yield some insight into potential systemic issues; but too often their complaints are targeted prematurely at the institutional level, which results in the kinds of contradictions that the author is describing.
Something I've learned from my dissertation advisor is that many people outside academia (and occasionally some within) too often see the kinds of arguments that emerge from humanities departments as prescriptive critiques of society at large. That is, they read books (or paintings, movies, music, buildings, etc.) and map those books onto the world in order to diagnose an ailment that needs correcting. My advisor has reminded me on more than one occasion that our work is descriptive, not prescriptive. We're not psychologists or philosophers, we're critics--and although critics can identify social ailments in cultural texts, it isn't our job to prescribe corrections to them.
To connect this back to the piece above, a novel can be seen as a microaggression when handled psychologically; but it isn't the critic's job to make the novel disappear (that shouldn't be anyone's job). The critic's job is to present the text in an expanded field (context, scale, etc.) so that we can better understand the reasons for our reactions, as varied as they might be.
If someone has a personal problem with a book, it's their job to talk with a specialist about it; not to have it removed from the syllabus.