Why do history?

Pretty much since I started college, I've been concerned about doing something that mattered. Maybe it was because 9/11 happened my second week in college, or because many of my friends went into politics, advocacy work, or teaching, but whatever the reason, I've always been uneasy about being in the ivory tower. It doesn't help that the usual response from people when they hear I'm going for a PhD in history is some variation on a sarcastic "wow, that's useful..."

Last week, at the annual American Studies Association conference (held, conveniently enough, in Philadelphia), I attended a panel about the role of American Studies in informing public policy. There was clearly a lot of interest in the topic, because the room was so packed that people were standing the doorway (and believe me, this is not common at this kind of conference!). What emerged from what all of the scholars there were saying was that studying the past doesn't have to create analogies, but rather possibilities, for the present. Possibilities of other ways of doing things based on how we have done things in the past.

GW named one of its new dorms Ivory Tower, embodying the concept of the detached university (particularly apt here, since this was built over the neighborhood's objections)

To be honest, I'd never really thought about it that way. Certain topics lend themselves to this approach better than others: one scholar on immigration explained how her research shows past laws and policies that have been abandoned but could be useful today. An expert from a think tank explained that he reads articles by historians looking for answers to questions he approaches today when advising lobbyists. I asked about what a scholar who doesn't work on something that's currently a hot topic can do, and they insisted that being an activist can be an important role for somebody already trained in critical thinking and formulating arguments. True, but less compelling, I think.

Then I read, at a professor's suggestion, the incoming president of Harvard's inaugural address. The new president there, Drew Faust, is an historian. She echoed the concerns of a lot of historians I've talked to in school this year who worry about "presentism," or trying too hard to make historical research respond to present questions (although I think this is different from the possibility suggested by the panel about looking to the past for ideas--they weren't suggesting that the past try to answer current questions). Here's her answer to why we study fields like history and classics:

"We pursue them in part 'for their own sake,' because they define what has over centuries made us human, not because they can enhance our global competitiveness. We pursue them because they offer us as individuals and as societies a depth and breadth of vision we cannot find in the inevitably myopic present. We pursue them too because just as we need food and shelter to survive, just as we need jobs and seek education to better our lot, so too we as human beings search for meaning. We strive to understand who we are, where we came from, where we are going and why."

I guess her "depth and breadth of vision" is kind of like the panel's idea of alternative possibilities. I'll agree that the pursuit of knowledge is part of what makes us human, but as much as I know I'm in this for a search for meaning, that is a selfish pursuit. A lot of people in the ivory tower are appeased by the noble nature of the pursuit, but I will continue to stubbornly insist that there should be something more.