DHQ: Digital Humanities Quarterly
2021
Volume 15 Number 4
Volume 15 Number 4
The Age Old Question: A Review of What is Digital History? by Hannu Salmi
Abstract
A book review of Hannu Salmi’s What is Digital History?. Salmi’s work offers a clear and coincide introduction to the history of digital humanities, notes the current state of the field, and address common criticism faced by digital humanists. In particular, this book would be of interest to those teaching undergraduate or graduate courses in historical methodology, public history, or digital history.
The latest addition to the What is History? series by Polity Books, Hannu Salmi’s What
is Digital History? provides a compelling introduction to the burgeoning field of digital
history. Interdisciplinary in scope — including art history, public history, and the
digital humanities — Salmi introduces major concepts, addresses well-known limitations,
and broadly surveys the state of the field in the United States, Western Europe, and
beyond. This is not a “how-to” manual for those building digital projects, but a
“what-is” book, which deftly and concisely defines digital history as a branch of
historical analysis.
Opening with an overview on digital culture and technology, Salmi grounds his study in
its historical antecedents. The rapid development of technology in the decades following
the Second World War provided new tools for scholars. The 1990s, in turn, saw the
development of the World Wide Web and with it a rapid growth in digital scholarship —
including the digitization of historical manuscripts and the development of online
curatorial services. George Mason University’s Roy Rosenzweig Center for History and New
Media (RRCHNM) was founded in 1994; its mission, as Stephen Robertson noted, was “to democratize the past — to incorporate multiple voices, reach diverse
audiences, and encourage popular participation in presenting and preserving the
past”
[Salmi 2020, 5]. Such pioneering projects paved the way for digital
scholarship on a wider scale. Salmi, in particular, emphasizes the close association
between digital history and public history within the United States. That was largely
true for projects and digital centers developed in the 1990s, including the RRCHNM, but
there are important methodological and philosophical differences between digital history
and public history; recent digital history projects reflect this divergence. Salmi,
however, minimizes the distinctions between these two subfields of the historical
profession.
The opening chapter, “The Digital Past,” examines the distinction
between “born-digital” and “digitized” data, and the limitations of both forms. From professional emails
to personal Tweets, the digital age has brought with it a substantial amount of
ephemera. If preserved, “born-digital” data offers underused but tantalizing subjects of
future analysis for historians of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. Housing an
effusion of paper letters, reports, and manuscripts, archives and libraries across the
globe have made concerted efforts to convert their vast, physical holdings into digital
representations. Examples of “digitized data” include the Library of Congress’
American Memory Project, Google Books, and Spain’s El Archive General de Indias. Salmi,
a nineteenth-century historian at the University of Turku in Finland, provides myriad
examples of European digitization projects aimed at historians of the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries. Indeed, the merit of this work is its transnational scope.
Reading, Salmi argues, is not a straightforward process. In “Reading
and Textuality in Digital History,” he considers “reading” in the digital
age and the use of texts as “big data.” Close reading and textual interpretation
“have always been at the heart of history as a discipline”
[Salmi 2020, 8]. Digital history, given the vast scope of the
available data and the use of Optical Character Recognition (OCR), requires a different
methodological approach: distant reading. Computer software and researchers mine ‘big
data’ sets for micro and macro level patterns. Salmi, however, readily notes the
limitations of OCR software and its many inaccuracies.
While not a major feature of the work, a cursory analysis of mapping and data
visualization is included in “Mapping and Viewing History.”
Influenced by the development and advancement of geospatial information systems, the
spatial turn encouraged multidisciplinary collaborations: libraries digitized maps;
scholars mapped historical data. Image digitization, too, has revolutionized the field,
according to Salmi. Large-scale digitization of paintings, photographs, and other images
have permitted “distant viewing,” a method of using computer software to interpret
metadata. Focused mainly on art history and image digitization, Chapter 3 minimizes the
importance of spatial analysis in digital history. Mapping is a powerful tool for
historical research, and its importance is underestimated here.
A short fourth chapter, “Interdisciplinarity: Challenges for
Research,” surveys some of the complexities of doing digital history. By its
very nature, digital history is collaborative and reaches across traditional
disciplinary boundaries. That is not new nor are such problems confined to digital
history, notes Salmi. In practice, interdisciplinary exploration is difficult given the
“tension between disciplinary thinking and interdisciplinary
pressure”
[Salmi 2020, 77]. Salmi, however, still encourages collaboration
while recognizing disciplinary boundaries and each fields’ unique idiosyncrasies. He
concludes, “Digital history . . . is not a discipline; it is a
branch of historical practice that can also be an interdisciplinary enterprise in
which the researcher must enter the trading zone”
[Salmi 2020, 77]. In this “trading zone,” historians may
question their identity as scholars and must confront the innerworkings of their
profession and articulate their research procedures to those outside their field.
In his final chapter, “Presenting the Past in the Digital
Age,” Salmi returns to public history. Many digital projects — The Texas
Slavery Project, for example — strive to present historical information to the public
via the internet. Other projects pair visualizations with textual information to convey
historical data and narration. Open-source programs enable historians to create graphs,
timelines, and word clouds. This chapter, in particular, is helpful for those eager to
learn more about open-source programs and digital tools, and Salmi lists but does not
evaluate several specific programs — AntConc, Voyant Tools, D3, ManyEyes, Gephi, and
TextArc, just to name a few.
Salmi is at times critical of digital history – addressing paywalls, OCR limitations,
and interdisciplinary challenges – but he endorses this form of innovative methodology.
Yet critics of digital history abound, and a more nuanced conversation regarding digital
history’s limitations may have better served its practitioners, both current and
future. Nonetheless, this slim volume fulfills an important purpose. Serving as a
concise, clear introduction to the field, What is Digital History? is ideal for
classroom instruction with advanced undergraduate or early-career graduate students. In
particular, those teaching introductory historical methodology, public history, or
digital history in the United States or Europe would be wise to incorporate this text
into their classrooms. Raising key points and introducing innovative projects, this work
would without a doubt inspire animated conversations and encourage others to enter the
field.
Works Cited
Salmi 2020 Salmi, H. What is
Digital History? Polity, Cambridge (2020).