18.1 Historians and outreach

It’s going far too far to claim that, for all those newly awarded their history doctorates, the world is their oyster. The jobs market, especially for academic posts, is everywhere uncertain and insecure. And there are conflicting cultural currents today – some admiring and appreciating effort and achievements; some sceptical about all forms of ‘experts’. Nonetheless, history researchers with a doctorate have a massive qualification to list on their CVs. They have hard-won skills and knowledge to communicate. And they deal in a subject of universal interest. Even those who claim to dislike the subject of history, often thinking of ‘boring’ textbooks from their youth, turn out to have some interests beyond the here and now. All are located in Time.

Given the universalism of the subject, it’s really rare to find any historical theme that cannot command some interest in the wider community. For that reason, there’s every reason for researchers immediately post-doc to proceed rapidly to a first publication (whether a book or an article), arising out of their studies. Most supervisors are happy to help with further advice; and the doctoral examiners probably gave relevant suggestions too.

Furthermore, there are other options to be followed in tandem. These include various forms of civic engagement, which are known, rather cheerily, as ‘outreach’. That terminology is not perfect. It conjures up images of a secluded academic ivory tower, from which secluded scholars stretch out their arms to a startled public. Nonetheless, ‘outreach’ is the current term of art for scholarly links with the wider community. And the process of civic engagement is well worthwhile for all historians, whatever the terminology.

18.2 Preparing for publication

Getting into print for the first time is a good moment. Most historian-authors are delighted. Some indeed say that they don’t believe in their research until they see it in print. Only a tiny number positively dislike the experience. Friends and family are also relieved that there’s something to show for all those years of labour. Employers are almost invariably impressed with a publication. And, above all, appearing in print, after a due process of pre-publication scrutiny, gives historical research a public imprimatur: a badge of research honour. Crossing the bridge into print – and thereby into the scholarly community – used to be comparatively difficult. These days, there are multiple opportunities to issue public communications. Nonetheless, the value of appearing in a peer-reviewed outlet has not diminished. It conveys both serious intent and scholarly acceptance. It allows readers to access the work, triggering responses and debates. And it may well launch researchers into further publications, having taken the plunge.

Immediately after gaining a doctorate or completing a large research project, it is worth pondering the options. Are there spin-off essays which can be ready relatively quickly? Is there a suitable target journal or other media outlet? But it’s a mistake to dissipate the impact of a big study by spreading the word in too many short essays. Publishers have been known to reject book plans on the reasonable grounds that the material is already in the public domain. Strategic thought is thus advisable.

Scholarly outputs range from a research monograph to overview books, edited documents with scholarly commentaries, spin-off surveys, detailed research essays, research blogs and web publications, ad infinitum. It’s up to each individual researcher to decide which trackway is most appropriate.¹

However, it’s worth remembering that, for formal research assessment purposes, publications have to pass a process of anonymous peer review. It can seem annoying, particularly after the hard work to get a doctorate, that a spin-off book or essays are subject to yet more assessment. But that’s what the world of scholarship requires. The anonymous peer-review process applies to new authors and old hands alike. It’s a process of pre-publication checking, which patrols the boundary between the world of scholarship and the unchecked torrent of writings on anything/everything else.

When critical responses arrive from the anonymous experts, researchers are sometimes startled or even offended. There’s something about anonymity which causes referees to be brisk, brusque and occasionally rude. The aggression expressed by so many anonymous authors on social media illustrates that syndrome only too effectively.² Yet a dose of well-founded academic criticism can often be salutary. So, after recovering from the initial shock, researchers should view the exercise as a further free consultation. Instead of rushing into print and getting a stinker of a review, the author is being forewarned. The anonymous critic is, in fact, a best friend lurking in disguise (another variant of the hostile questioner after a seminar presentation).

Accordingly, it’s best to grit one’s teeth – and to adapt and/or polish in the light of criticisms. Often, rewriting helps to strengthen arguments. Obscure references can be clarified; sloppy analysis tightened; and contrary views acknowledged before being rebutted.

Nonetheless, there are times when the criticisms have to be rejected. In such circumstances, researchers should send a courteous explanation to the relevant publisher or editor. They need to know that the would-be author is not acting capriciously, but has a good reason for rejecting the anonymous advice. Once reassured on that point, publishers/editors often, but not invariably, allow the publication to go ahead. It’s their judgement call, as they weigh up the options between either sticking cautiously with established experts or trusting the reassurances from a new author. But the review process means that publishers/editors have reasoned evidence to consult before deciding. It’s another stage of negotiation.

There is kudos to be gained from appearing with high-rated publishing houses, so authors should be ambitious. At the same time, all interests have to be served. If one publisher wants to change a project out of all recognition, then authors are better advised to look elsewhere.

After a book or essay has been given the green light, the publication process starts. It can at times be painfully slow. The processes of book designing, formatting, copy-editing, proofreading (often twice), indexing, printing and promoting cannot be done in a day, though it’s true that some publishers manage to take fewer days than others. All this effort, however, is worth it when a fine-quality publication ensues.

18.3 Publication outlets

Getting into print requires would-be authors to be pro-active. It is not the same as being an examination candidate, when the vetting process is organized by others. However, publishing is usually populated by people who are keenly interested in the world of ideas. So newcomers are readily encouraged. Most publishers provide forms which ask for information about the proposed book’s length, structure and import, as well as information about its place in the market and the nature of competitor works.

Shorter essays, meanwhile, may be destined for academic journals. All material submitted for consideration should have been scrupulously prepared in the required house-style, as editors usually return sloppy work unread. It is worth noting that the long-term survival of these publications remains unclear, as new policies of open access for publicly funded research projects are changing the terms of trade. Nonetheless, dedicated editors of academic journals usually have a strong commitment to fostering their field of study. Otherwise, they wouldn’t undertake what is normally a part-time, unpaid task. Hence they are generally delighted to get contributions, especially from early career scholars. It marks a welcome renewal of the field.

Academic book publishers, meanwhile, are more varied. A number are fairly conservative. But others are genuinely adventurous. They love the world of ideas and are keen to engage with the public. Older historians who have already published will give advice and recommendations, both positive and negative. Personal contacts are always useful, not in hopes of great financial rewards, since academic publishing is not lucrative, but for professional input. Great publishers nurture their fields – and historians who find such paragons are lucky.

A few academics who hope for significant pecuniary rewards employ literary agents. These are usually delightful people, full of news of books, markets, financial advances and gossip. Yet it should be noted that only the most commercially attractive of topics earn sufficient money to make it worth employing a go-between who takes a cut of the normally derisory profits. And, of course, not all of these ‘trade books’, as they are termed, do actually have runaway sales. There are flops as well as successes. Indeed, very few, even among the most popular ‘trade’ books, make money (for the author at least) from publishing alone.

As a result, most research historians deal directly with publishers, whose standard offers are very modest. The reality is that most academic publications have limited print-runs, many as low as 250 to 300 copies. Moreover, the modest payments to authors don’t reflect the huge effort it takes to produce a learned monograph of 100,000+ words. It is the employing institutions (often, the universities) which pay the salaries that enable so much professional research and writing to be completed. Hence, the academic sector within publishing is subsidized.

However, the relationship is a symbiotic one. Academic publishing permits specialist works with only limited markets to appear in print, to the satisfaction of universities and research institutions. Ever-conscious of their rankings, these institutions strongly pressurize their staff to publish. For that reason, a blind eye has long been turned to the low market-valuation of the academic contribution to publishing, whether in terms of research, authorship, editorial input, quality control or quantities of time.

Currently, however, the terms of trade are changing, with the result that some businesses are getting authors to organize and pay for tasks – such as copy-editing, indexing and securing copyright permission for use of images – which were once undertaken by publishers. It’s a real dilemma for researchers. In effect, some academics are being pushed not just into publishing for a pittance but into publishing at their own expense.

Moreover, current debates over open access for materials in peer-reviewed journals are further complicating the knotty question of who precisely should bear or share the true costs of essays in academic journals: researchers? research funders? institutions? institutional funders? publishers? libraries?³

In such circumstances, the option of self-publication is becoming increasingly attractive. Essays can be published readily on the web. And larger projects can be produced as attractive books either by professional businesses, who undertake the task for a fee, or by determined individuals who manage to self-publish to professional standards.⁴

Consequently, researchers can and do explore the entire gamut of outlets. Ultimately, however, it depends upon what is wanted. For money and fame, works on historical sex, scandal, witchcraft, world wars, Hitler, Stalin and the Tudor monarchs all offer tempting possibilities with a commercial press. Or, for instant action, self-publication cuts out the intermediary assessment and the delays.

Yet there remains a large area in between. It’s the journal editors and academic publishers who open the doors to the scholarly arena. They not only provide worldwide distribution networks, which self-publishers do not enjoy, but they also offer a guarantee of scholarly validity via the authentication of peer review before publication.

The best advice is to take the plunge, via whichever outlet appears most suitable. All books and essays have the potential to throw off further sparks, which potentially generate further reviews, debates, conference sessions, replies and rebuttals/restatements. All exciting and energizing. And even works which do not generate immediate responses (reviews can be slow to appear) have nonetheless placed their arguments fair and square in the public arena.

18.4 Civic engagement

Historians are always in much demand. They are consulted by everyone from governments and diplomats to film-makers and advertising gurus. They provide bedrock advice and information for the massive heritage industries.⁵ And today the pressures upon historians to undertake all forms of civic engagement are multiplying. The major problem is time. As careers burgeon, so do the number of tasks requiring attention.

But, without teams of support staff, individual historians cannot be simultaneously working in the archives, giving public talks, writing grant applications, curating exhibitions, organizing conferences, reviewing books, writing peer reviews, teaching, marking essays, setting exam papers, appearing on social media, making videos, organizing ‘witness’ history projects in the local community, keeping up to date in their administration, producing a regular flow of research articles and, of course, writing their books.

The obvious response is a degree of specialization. No-one should try to do everything. Some work will always remain ‘back-room’, supporting teaching and underpinning the knowledge grid. Tasks should be shared within departments and faculties, and individual researchers encouraged to link their projects (such as giving talks or organizing exhibitions on themes closely related to their latest research), so that they do not spread themselves too thin. It’s also worth recalling that people work most enthusiastically at projects that they really want to undertake. ‘Outreach’ commitments should therefore be tailored to the individual researcher’s aptitudes and preferences.

One common form of engagement for historians is giving formal lectures and informal talks on a huge variety of historical themes. Invitations come from student societies, local history groups, the Historical Association, Universities of the Third Age, heritage and literary festivals, and so on. Often speakers at these events are unpaid or given no more than a token honorarium, plus travel expenses. But audiences like to hear about the variety of research, and it’s a good challenge for researchers to talk to audiences who have no preconceptions and who frequently respond with sharp comments and perceptive criticisms.

Providing ideas and historical briefings for TV and radio gurus, and for film-makers, is another big area for historians – depending upon the nature of individual research specialisms. Exchanges with such communicators can be very zippy. And at times annoying. Media people tend to demand instant attention, which is not always convenient. And some have fixed ideas on a subject, which they are reluctant to change even after seeking professional advice. The consultancy process is thus dialogic and sometimes a bit edgy. But it’s generally worth the effort.

By the way, a percentage of such consultancies are unpaid, being part of the free exchange of ideas. However, historians should not let themselves be pushed inadvertently into acting as unpaid research assistants. If the hours of work are great – and the borrowing of ideas extensive – then researchers are entitled to ask for due recognition in the credits and at least a minimal fee to acknowledge the input of time and professional labour.

‘Public’ historians, who undertake a lot of civic engagements, quickly gain expertise in the different media of communication. In radio interviews, for example, the answers should be ‘front-loaded’. That is, the verdict should come briskly at the start, with the complications explained afterwards. The contrast with a long lecture is notable. Thus, while it’s fine to start an hour-long talk by observing that the question is complex, such an observation merely sounds evasive if given as a reply to a radio interviewer. Another significant variation relates to the use of sound and silence. In a long lecture, a significant pause can have a dramatic effect. But radio producers hate silences. They fear losing their listeners’ attention. Hence speakers trying to add variety into their presentations should do so with words, not with meaningful silences. Radio-talk is a stylization of face-to-face speech, not a direct replica. It’s performative, even if not every intervention has to be a full-blown ‘performance’.⁶

Communication by TV, film or video has another different set of imperatives. This medium needs a flow of images even more than a flow of sound. The input from human communicators should be engaging but not in any way distracting. Hence historians on screen should resolve not to fidget; not to wave their hands in the air; not to look directly at the people operating the camera, the mike, the sound baffle and so forth; and certainly not to seek responses from the technical staff. They are not the audience, and are trained to be impassive. The audience is the other side of the camera, far away. Their attention may lapse if the flow of images is insufficiently interesting.⁷ Hence advisors for historical film, video and so forth need to think of ways of representing ideas in a manner that is neither too bland and obvious nor too baffling and obscure. A great challenge.

Collectively, these forms of civic engagement are viewed today as part of the Impact Agenda.⁸ It seeks to measure the value of research in terms of its contribution to the UK’s economy, society and culture, preferably in quantifiable form. A fine example would be an exhibition to display new findings, with attendance figures which can be tallied and visitors’ comments – usually appreciative from those who have made an effort to attend – logged.

There is clearly a positive side to the Impact Agenda. Reports of such productive activities help governments to justify expenditure on higher education. Nonetheless, an exaggerated stress upon ‘impact’ could damage the breadth of research. Its focus is very much upon the assessable short term.⁹ But some projects have impact only in the long run. And others simply contribute to good up-to-date teaching and extending the knowledge grid, without glitzy spin-offs.

No doubt, however, a balance will in time emerge. Researchers into unfashionable subjects should hold their nerve, while those with material that attracts public interest should enjoy the civic engagement while it lasts. History springs enough surprises to suggest that the current parameters of academic research assessment are unlikely to remain set in stone.

18.5 Summary: public sparks and inner fires

Ideas and knowledge, once in print and/or in wider circulation, have a chequered history. They make public sparks whose illumination spreads well beyond the control of their originators, whether new research is forgotten, or contradicted, or quietly assimilated, or loudly applauded. In the world of knowledge, effective outcomes are assessed not in a few months or years but over generations.

There are instances of books which fall completely flat at first publication but eventually become foundational. David Hume’s Treatise on Human Nature, which in 1738, in his wry phrase, ‘fell dead-born from the press’, is the paradigm case.¹⁰ It is still in print today with rival editions vying for readers’ attention. And the reverse can happen too. There are plenty of once-notable but now forgotten authors.¹¹ And there have been influential historians of global renown in one generation whose fame plummets in the next. It happened to Arnold Toynbee, whose panoramic style of world history, much praised in the 1950s, went abruptly out of fashion in the 1960s.¹²

So what is the moral for today’s researchers? Only time will provide the ultimate assessment. In the meantime, historians should warm themselves not only by the sparky processes of publication and civic engagement – but simultaneously by their own inner fires.

1. 1  J. Coverdale et al., Writing for Academia: Getting Your Research into Print (Dundee, 2014); G. Wisker, Getting Published: Academic Publishing Success (London, 2017).

2. 2  See G. M. Chen, Online Incivility and Public Debate: Nasty Talk (London, 2017); W. Phillips, This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things: Mapping the Relationship between Online Trolling and Mainstream Culture (Cambridge, Mass., 2015).

3. 3  T. Rabesandratana, ‘The world debates open-access mandates’, Science, ccclxiii (2019), 11–12, and extensive review in <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Open_access> [accessed 30 April 2021].

4. 4  For independent publishing of impeccable quality, see the already cited Bird (ed.), Diary of Mary Hardy, 1733–1809.

5. 5  D. Armitage and J. Guldi, The History Manifesto (Cambridge, 2014); J. de Groot, Consuming History: Historians and Heritage in Contemporary Popular Culture (London, 2016); M. Finn and K. Smith (ed.), New Paths to Public Histories (Basingstoke, 2015); S. Berger (ed.), Perspectives on the Intersection between Politics, Activism and the Historical Profession (New York, 2019); J. L. Koslow, Public History: an Introduction (London, 2021).

6. 6  C. B. Cooney, The Voice on the Radio (London, 1996); D. Crider, Performing Personality: On-Air Radio Identities in a Changing Media Landscape (Lanham, Md., 2016); S. VanCour, Making Radio: Early Radio Production and the Rise of Modern Sound Culture (New York, 2018).

7. 7  Making a lengthy video provides a quick education in the differences between preparing an illustrated lecture and finding an unbroken flow of images for a prolonged exposition.

8. 8  See The Research Excellence Framework: Diversity, Collaboration, Impact Criteria, and Preparing for Open Access (Westminster, 2019): British Library online resource no. 019466976.

9. 9  B. R. Martin, ‘The Research Excellence Framework and the “impact agenda”: are we creating a Frankenstein monster?’, Research Evaluation, xx (Sept. 2011), 247–54, and other contributions in the same issue; R. Watermeyer, Competitive Accountability in Academic Life: the Struggle for Social Impact and Public Legitimacy (Cheltenham, 2019); K. Smith et al., The Impact Agenda: Controversies, Consequences and Challenges (Bristol, 2020).

10. 10  A. Bailey and D. O’Brien (ed.), The Continuum Companion to Hume (New York, 2012); P. Russell, The Riddle of Hume’s Treatise: Scepticism, Naturalism and Irreligion (Oxford, 2008).

11. 11  C. Fowler, The Book of Forgotten Authors (London, 2017).

12. 12  For Arnold J. Toynbee, contrast views in C. T. McIntire and M. Perry (ed.), Toynbee: Reappraisals (Toronto, 1989); K. Winetrout (ed.), After One Is Dead: Arnold Toynbee as Prophet – Essays in Honour of Toynbee’s Centennial (Hampden, Mass., 1989); and M. Perry, Arnold Toynbee and the Western Tradition (New York, 1996).