A painful problem of sizeable proportions

In nine months (almost exactly) I will finish my term as “Dean” and will return to being “Andrew” or “Andy” (depending on which stage of my life you met me and in which context). I will be enjoying (absolutely) two years of “administrative leave”, having accumulated an extra year by virtue of having held my position for ten years non-stop. There are all sorts of implications to this that go beyond losing having my phone answered and my mail opened for me. The one that has struck me rather forcibly is moving out of my office. As you might imagine, one of the perks of being Dean is having a nice office – I’ve been told by some my fellow deans that the view and the windows make this space some of the best on campus. In this office I was able to have a number of book shelves installed (probably going higher up the wall than the latest earthquake requirements would allow) to house a part of my book collection (mainly odds and ends, if the truth be told: my specialized collection on the Qur’an and its interpretation I have kept at home). Interspersed with those books are several shelves of learned journals which are supplemented by a collection at home as well (some stashed away in boxes). These journals are sets that, for the most part, start in the late 1970s.

The question I have been tangling with recently is what to do with the journals. This is a question which has always plagued academics (I remember a colleague in Calgary who would throw away one journal almost as soon as it arrived if there was nothing of value to him in it) because they seemingly accumulate so quickly and take up such a lot of space. Few of us can afford to have the issues bound into volumes, so years of cardboard magazine boxes are now a feature in many offices. They certainly are in mine.

But the question of storage space is not really the one that faces me. I can always buy more bookcases for home and make my home office look more like a real library with shelves running parallel across the room. The real issue is should I bother? Almost all of my journals are now available online, mostly through JSTOR, some through commercial providers. All of the articles are there, available at my fingertips, ready to be stored on my local computer as PDFs or printed out and filed away (another outmoded way of storage, a change to which is less painful to confront). So what’s the point of keeping 30 years worth of the Journal of the American Oriental Society which takes up at least 12 feet of book shelf space? Absolutely none. But what am I supposed to do with them? Throw them away (well, recycle the paper at the very least)? That is simply so painful for anyone who loves the written word and who harbours the thought deep down that perhaps, one day, all these journals should be read cover-to-cover (now that really would be an audacious plan!) . But thinking about it more realistically doesn’t make it any easier: to think that I won’t be able to browse through my collection and read articles that I just happen across on subjects that I know little to nothing about but which somehow capture my fancy.It also makes me realize that I would lose a significant part of my own memory: I won’t have that reminder that I’ve been enjoying this academic life for over 30 years!

A suggestion may be that there must be a possibility of selling these journals or shipping them overseas to a needy university library somewhere. This appears easier said than done. The former is a pretty limited market, it appears – there are over 400 listings on abebooks.com for individual issues (plus some single off-prints) of the Journal of the American Oriental Society at prices ranging from $4 each and up – sets comparable to mine seem to sell for around $500 at most. Thinking that I’m going to be able to rid myself of the hard copy journal s this way also brings to mind my futile attempt to sell some REALLY valuable sets of magazines – Equinox and Harrowsmith – via UsedVictoria.com which produced absolutely no interest but did elicit much ridicule of me around my home for the effort. It seems that everyone faces essentially the same problem: magazines and journals expand to fill available space and are incredibly difficult to excise from one’s collection of printed material. The idea of sending these overseas is, I suspect, naive: not only would these journals prove incredibly expensive to ship but it’s doubtful that such specialized works in the humanities would prove of substantial appeal to overseas universities which face their own (far more real) demands on space (and cataloging and binding...).

So ultimately I view this as a problem provoked by the amazing development of online resources. Ten years ago it was common to hear complaints about the Library’s eagerness to replace paper with electronic resources. Today, that’s not a common sentiment: virtually all of us have come to realize the benefits of being able to access all this material no matter where we are and no matter what hour of the day or night. Printed journals now retain their prime value only for the first few years after being issued (when often online access is limited by the publisher).

All I can say is that it’s a dilemma, a very painful one.

Time to read

I don't often seem to get much time to read any books these days, let alone novels. But my mother-in-law gave me a book for Christmas that has shown me, once again, how much I enjoy the experience once I'm captivated by a text. This time it was Joseph Boyden's Through Black Spruce. There are a couple of reasons it grabbed me quickly. One is a trivial matter but it really helps me: it's written in short chapters, perfect for taking the attitude that one can just read a bit in a few minutes and then get on with "more important work". In the end, as it turned out, I consumed the entire book during a few extended sittings. The other reason for the book captivating me is more personal.

Back in 1967 I was a junior forest ranger in Mattawa, Ontario. That's a summer I still remember quite vividly for all sorts of reasons: the people I met in the park where I was stationed, the endless planting of seedlings wrapped in their tiny plastic containers, the bear the rangers had to shoot and that we got to eat (as best I can remember) afterward. But the key part was that when the camp was over I was convinced by one (or was it two or more?) colleagues to join them in hitching up to Cochrane and taking the Polar Bear Express train up to Moosonee. I remember we didn't get very far hitching so we flagged down a Greyhound bus at a railway crossing (where it had to stop) to get us to the train. I only have vague memories of the train ride and only a few glimmers of what we might have done in Moosonee (and Moose Factory where I recall we also visited) but, for my companion, I do remember that it involved a girl and alcohol. But I don't know what it involved for me and I can't remember why I would have even agreed to go, except for the idea that it was far away from Toronto to where I would be returning soon.

Anyway, the point is that Through Black Spruce is centered around Moosonee and Moose Factory. While my memory of being there may be faint, those places still resonate with me and they lured me into the story. For me, the book also provides a fascinating view of native life that, in my recent years in Victoria, I have come to know more about. In fact, of all the new things I have learned at UVic, it is those things that my Indigenous colleagues have taught me that I think will stay with me for the longest. It's certainly not that I have learned a great deal, I admit, but I have over the years here started to get a glimmer of some of things that are at stake in being a native person in Canada. And for me, as the privileged-white-boy immigrant to this country, it's something I should have learned on my trip to Moosonee but I am ashamed to admit that I didn't. Joseph Boyden seems to have found a way to convey to me some of that knowledge in the form of a novel.

There's something else about the novel that really struck me too, something that resonates with me strongly in quite a different way. That's the account in chapter 21 of Will's reflections on "bush life" after he flees Moosonee for an island in James Bay. His thoughts on simplicity, alone-ness, being with nature, filling time with the little things that need to be done, running around naked caked in mud -- those are the experiences I treasure (okay, not the last one so much) when doing things like backpacking and kayaking. Or maybe I fear them too. Says Will, "Loneliness grew like moss out there, crawling onto my legs and onto my arms."

It's a book worth reading and contemplating. Thanks, Louise.

A good dunking

I recently participated in a "dunk tank" for the United Way at the University.

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Waiting!

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Falling!

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After!

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Even though I was wearing my wet suit, I got chilly, to say the least. It reminded me that I certainly don't want to fall in the water while kayaking -- hypothermia is a very real threat within a very short period of time.

Obsessed with human rights

I have a subscription to The Chronicle of Higher Education at the office. Inside a recent issue was something that other subscribers in the US had already been talking about on some academic discussion lists I follow: the "free" DVD of a "pre-release Special One Hour Edition" of a "special Advertising Insert" called Obsession: Radical Islam's War Against the West. Most of the discussions I have read about this video have focused on who is behind this incredibly expensive campaign and its links to the US election. In the US it is now being distributed directly to university students through their on-campus mailboxes on certain campuses.

For me, this video links into two other topic of recent concern to me, both related to Islamophobia. One relates to Barack Obama and the idea that he might secretly be a Muslim (and clearly links to Obsession). The other has to do with the British Columbia Human Rights Tribunal (BCHRT) hearing regarding Mark Steyn, Macleans Magazine, Roger's Publishing and the Canadian Islamic Congress. The former topic is only of "academic" concern to me but the underlying issue is the same as the essence of the BCHRT matter with which I was involved as an "expert witness". I have wanted to write about this topic for a while and I plan to have a chapter in the forthcoming new edition of a book of mine dealing with it -- and the widespread distribution of Obsession proves the need for it even more.

On Saturday I learned that the BCHRT had issued its decision in the Macleans case, rejecting the complaint. The decision, available here, is, to me as a non-lawyer, interesting and well-reasoned. The decision is justified through a fine balancing of "rights" and "freedoms" and also based clearly (to me) on legal precedents. Given the many misgivings I had about my "performance" on the occasion of being an "expert witness" (primarily provoked by reading too many right-wing bloggers probably whose abusive approach both to the tribunal members and to me personally is not something I am accustomed to), I was glad to read that the members of tribunal heard what I said and took it seriously. That they gave me the "last word" in their summary is satisfying but it does leave me with the feeling that I failed to express a crucial follow-up to my observation. The Tribunal comments (in paragraph 157) "We think that Dr. Rippin put it best when he said that the Article is a rallying cry to the 'West'. The Article may attempt to rally public opinion by exaggeration and causing the reader to fear Muslims, but fear is not synonymous with hatred and contempt." What I suggested is that Mark Steyn is attempting to reform Euro-American society towards a structure of minimal government interference (claiming that we have lost "our" strength due to governmental over-protection) and in which traditional (patriarchal) power structures remain intact. In order to "scare" Euro-American society into action on these issues, he raises the "threat" of Islam. The issue is not Islam, as such, but rather, it is a rallying point to provoke a change in the nature of Euro-American government and society. The point is, from my perspective and why I was willing to be a part of the hearing, that Muslims are the innocent victims caught in the middle of this political battle over the nature of US society and government. That's what "Islamophobia" is all about.

As it happens, the Tribunal lamented not hearing a definition of "Islamophobia". The best definition comes from a British report done by the Runnymede Trust. Details may be found in Wikipedia. The summary is as follows:

The Runnymede report identified eight perceptions related to Islamophobia:

1) Islam is seen as a monolithic bloc, static and unresponsive to change.
2) It is seen as separate and "other." It does not have values in common with other cultures, is not affected by them and does not influence them.
3) It is seen as inferior to the West.
4) It is seen as barbaric, irrational, primitive, and sexist.
5) It is seen as violent, aggressive, threatening, supportive of terrorism, and engaged in a clash of civilizations.
6) It is seen as a political ideology, used for political or military advantage.
7) Criticisms made of "the West" by Muslims are rejected out of hand.
8) Hostility towards Islam is used to justify discriminatory practices towards Muslims and exclusion of Muslims from mainstream society. Anti-Muslim hostility is seen as natural and normal.

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Sunday October 19: As a follow-up to this the following text from Colin Powell is relevant to the remark above about Obama:

"I'm also troubled by, not what Senator McCain says, but what members of the party say. And it is permitted to be said such things as, "Well, you know that Mr. Obama is a Muslim." Well, the correct answer is, he is not a Muslim, he's a Christian. He's always been a Christian. But the really right answer is, what if he is? Is there something wrong with being a Muslim in this country? The answer's no, that's not America. Is there something wrong with some seven-year-old Muslim-American kid believing that he or she could be president? Yet, I have heard senior members of my own party drop the suggestion, 'He's a Muslim and he might be associated terrorists'."

And on Steyn and his ilk, see now http://www.smearcasting.com/index.html compiled by FAIR, an American media watch group.

Setting goals

My son Lucas has a school project that stretches over a full year. He had to come up with a meaningful personal goal and work on it over the course of the year. He chose to write a sports blog. You can see it at http://mcsportsblog.blogspot.com/ -- in fact, he'd be delighted if you would leave some comments.

When Lucas brought this project home, Beth and I decided that we would also establish year-long goals so we would all being doing something together. Beth decided to take piano lessons. That worked well until the (electronic) piano stopped working properly (hey, Duncan, want to buy a used piano?). She's into photography now.

My goal was to run a marathon. I've been a runner for a number years; my first participation in an organized run must have been 20 years ago or so -- the Run, Wall and Roll in Calgary, as I recall, and I ran in a number of others during those early years, especially in Banff --Melissa's, Winter Start etc. When I moved to Victoria I kept it up but starting in about 2005 I seem to have stopped. I had many excuses (pressures of work, you know, that sort of thing) but they all disappeared with my new goal.

Today I ran my second half-marathon. I thought I might run in the Royal Victoria Marathon next month but after running the Land's End half today, I realize that I'm not ready for it. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't finish. (Beth and Lucas seem willing to accept that two halves equal a whole.) It was a great run today but it was blisteringly hot especially towards the end and, as in my first (ever) half (the Oak Bay one), I started to fade badly at the 18k mark. My time today was about the same as my previous attempt: 2:02, 2:03. I may be getting older but at least I'm not getting any slower! True, there are lots of runners my age who do it much faster though, so age is not really an excuse. Okay, so at least I finished.

I'm too exhausted right now to contemplate signing up for another run. Probably in a week's time I'll gain some motivating perspective. We'll see. But I do like setting goals.

Blogging

I was reading a short article in the most recent issue of Wired that surveyed the slew of books and articles which have appeared recently on the negative impact of the Internet and all associated technology (as in The Dumbest Generation: How the Digital Age Stupefies Young Americans and Jeopardizes Our Future and "Is Google Making us Stupid?"). One author suggests that the Web makes us "both moronic and narcissistic."

Writing a blog is a perfect example of what is meant. Blogs are used for jottings of random pieces of information which those who post them presumably think are important and worth others reading. Blogs are, when you come down to it, the contemporary form of a diary, something that always used to be private and often kept under lock and key. Today, blogs reveal all to the world; things which in the past would have been between myself and my pen are now between the world and my keyboard. Blogs suggest we think ourselves to be of such individual significance that we should share our thoughts and lives. Moronic and narcissistic.

But there's another view: blogs, and things like Facebook, personal domain names (I own three names: rippin.org, rippin.ca and islamicworld.ca) and all those other manifestations of the Internet, are a part of an emerging arena for the construction of social relations. Facebook, it strikes me, is like going to a party except it's online: it's an opportunity to meet new people through other people you already know. Our personal networks are expanding tremendously. Blogs are a way to provide communciation to friends and colleagues, and perhaps gain some new friends in the process.

I've always said that if I had to do my career over again I would choose to be a rock star (sometimes I even say that's what I'll do when I retire -- not that I have any musical talent though). I've been thinking about that. While that fantasy aspiration would be fine if I could be a rock star of the late sixties/early seventies and stay in the that time period for ever, I fear the reality would be that I'd have to keep up with the musical times or sell myself as an aging rocker, Mick Jagger style. Both of those seem pretty dismal outcomes that I don't think I'm up for. So, I think I'll change what I would have liked to have been: I'd be an academic but I would have taken up cultural studies so that I could really understand things like blogs and what they mean.

A Weighty Tome

I recently found a weighty tome in my mailbox-- a most impressive book by John Lutz of the History department with the title Makuk: A New History of Aboriginal-White Relations, published by UBC Press in 2008. The topic is one none of us can ignore, living where we do, and a quick glance at the table of contents reveals that this will be a work that will reward a close reading -- something I hope to do before too long (although I won't be taking it backpacking with me, given its dimensions!).

But what really attracted my attention to John's book were the physical qualities of the book. It's more than simply asserting that UBC Press did a nice job of the binding and the paper. This is a book with design features that we don't often see in scholarly works (I should point out that the book stems from John's dissertation from a number of years back and that it has over 55 pages of notes and a bibliography of over 20 pages). First impressions are those of thinking that it is something of a textbook, even for high school classes maybe, and it could well be that it will find an audience there. But overall, I think that a misleading characterization and a reflection of my (and I suspect other people's) low expectations of the design of academic books these days. It's more than just the presence of illustrations (I have finally published an edited work that contains some pictures so I know what impact they alone can have) but it's to be seen in the use of multiple typefaces and font sizes, the use of quotes in outside margins, of boxed-text extracts, of detailed maps, of tables and charts -- things that simply makes this book a delight to contemplate and provide so many places to dip into the subject matter. O that all publishers would take such pride in their work and that we as authors would not feel the pressures of needing to publish quickly and the publisher's need to recap their investment in us ever sooner so that the joys of the physical properties of the book could be experienced more often!