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In this issue
(2023)
The Russian war of aggression against Ukraine, now in its second year, has many historical connections and implications – including some which may not immediately spring to mind. The German War Graves Commission estimates that the human remains of more than 800 Wehrmacht soldiers have been uncovered so far over the course of this war, some of them surfacing as new trenches were being dug. Helmets and boots have also been found. Historian Reinhart Koselleck’s (1923–2006) metaphor of Zeitschichten, or temporal layers, acquires here a different meaning and a very concrete materiality. (Koselleck had himself served as a soldier in Ukraine.) In her acceptance speech for the Leipzig Book Award for European Understanding in April 2023, the Russian author Maria Stepanova, who currently lives in Berlin, said: ›Are we condemned to keep reliving the twentieth century with its prisons, concentration camps and propaganda machines, its trench warfare and area bombardments? What can we do when the fabric of language, its texture, suddenly becomes transparent, revealing all the hidden layers of latent and overt violence percolating to the surface?‹
In this issue
(2022)
In 2020/21 it was first and foremost the Covid pandemic that many experienced as a major turning point; now the Russian war of aggression against Ukraine since 24 February 2022 has added a whole new set of events of existential significance, whose medium- and long-term consequences we can only partly foresee. The title of a book published in the spring of 2022, Der 11. September 2001 – (k)eine Zeitenwende? (11 September 2001 – A Historical Turning Point?), has come to sound like something from a bygone age. The question ›Is this the beginning of a new era?‹ is now posed under altered circumstances, and a ›historical turning point‹ and the ›end of globalisation‹ are proclaimed in equally adamant fashion. An academic – in the best sense of the word – conference on ›New Eras and Epochal Change‹ in April 2022 acquired an unanticipated immediacy. The organising team wrote: ›We have been outrun and perhaps even rendered irrelevant by events.‹ But humanities scholarship also entails a certain scepticism towards hasty diagnoses of the times and proclamations of turning points, as scholars including the Indian-born political scientist Parag Khanna have underscored: ›We should avoid grandiloquent proclamations that seek to encapsulate our times. Such characterisations can only capture the moment that has just passed and are guaranteed to quickly be outdated.‹ Of course even such a ›guarantee‹ that any statements can only be provisional may seem questionable when there are ›unmistakable symptoms of upheaval, of profound rupture‹, as the historian Jörn Leonhard has emphasised. With reference to Reinhart Koselleck, he underscores the fundamentally close link between ›rupture and repetition‹, between the ›singularity of history‹ and its ›recurrence‹.
The fiftieth issue
(2021)
At first glance, the seventeenth year of this journal’s publication would not appear to mark any particular anniversary. And yet the present edition is quite special for the editors and the editorial team: it is the 50th issue overall. (There was a double issue in 2007, otherwise there have always been three issues each year.) This milestone is the occasion for a brief review of the original objectives and of developments thus far, as well as a (self-)critical look at what the future may bring. Scholars in the nascent field of the cultural study of periodicals have rightly observed: ›The production of periodicals is often accompanied by reflections on the value, conditions, and promise of producing periodicals.‹
The International Tracing Service archives offer process-generated documents from resettlement programs for displaced persons (DP) after World War II. This paper addresses two key challenges to ongoing research based on those archival holdings: the generation of data; and the visual representation of that data in geographic information systems. Digital history offers the opportunity to go beyond case studies and use the wealth of process-generated documents as se- rial sources for algorithm-based analysis. However, data in that form does not exist as such, and thus needs to be generated – a process that implies interpre- tative acts such as abstraction, normalization, and trans-coding, which are shaped by the character of digital media. Can modeling a DP’s life into a series of events, and digitally processing the resultant data, help to find out more about the agency of DPs negotiating their destiny with the authorities? If the mostly hidden and implicit configurations of digital knowledge production are thoughtfully considered and geostatistical analysis is combined with close readings of selected source documents, hermeneutic and quantitative ap- proaches can be reconciled via digital history. This mixed method approach has implications for research culture and the publication of such data.
Milton Friedman hung up the phone in disgruntlement. The most influential economist of the postwar era had just called three different banks, one in Chicago and then two in New York, in order to initiate a financial transaction. He wanted to sell short $300,000 in pound sterling. Short selling is a technique for speculating on falling prices. Initially, speculators can only speculate on rising prices: they buy something and hope that it gains value, so that they can sell it at a profit. If the price for this asset goes down instead, the speculator incurs a loss when he resells it. So in order to profit from falling prices, speculators need to sell first and buy later – which is indeed possible if what is sold now is in fact only to be delivered a few weeks later. If the speculator is right and prices fall in the interim, he can buy cheap just before delivery is due and thus profit from having already sold what, at the time, he had not yet owned.
Marketization is a broad term with a wide range of meanings. It encompasses measures of deregulation and privatization as well as the perceived increase of an ›economic‹ logic in social relationships. For historical purposes, the term should not be narrowly defined, and nor should the concept of marketization be used in an ahistorical manner detached from contemporary usage. However, there are two questions which the historical analysis of marketization needs to address. First, what is the conceptual understanding of the market mechanism to which the term marketization is linked? Second, what is the relationship between marketization and economic theory?
Theory matters. Most historians would probably agree with this postulate, in the sense that theories from disciplines such as sociology, economics or psychology can sharpen historical analyses of any topic (though many of them may prefer quite pragmatic, common-sense approaches in their own empirical studies). But when it comes to a historical understanding of a phenomenon like marketization, theory does remain an analytical resource – and at the same time turns into a multifaceted object of research. The way we think about markets is highly affected by theorists, and not only by their ideas but also by their effectiveness in making them influential over specific periods of time.
Historians have analyzed films, novels, records, theater plays etc. primarily in reference to their meaning and reception. This article makes a case for moving the focus to the actors, structures and processes that shape symbolic objects before these are consumed. To this end, we present a framework established in US sociology to study the fabrication, distribution and evaluation of symbolic content. We discuss the production of culture perspective as an approach that appears to be particularly useful for historical research and, by reviewing selected works from the sociological literature, demonstrate how this perspective can be applied to phenomena like popular music and literary fiction. We focus on genres as bundles of conventions as one lens through which historians may analyze the creation, reproduction, evaluation and consumption of culture.
The supposedly commercial products of the culture industry are increasingly facing sales difficulties because growing numbers of self-assertive consumers are downloading products at will, thus no longer following the given rules of the market. Not only multinational record companies, but also representatives of ‘high’ culture are adamant in their criticism of the current ‘culture for free’ tendency. The latter can hardly be characterized as profit-oriented – nor would they describe themselves that way – but they contend that bootleg copies are a threat to their livelihood, and that the culture of piracy paves the way for harebrained mass products. The discussion encompasses copyright laws and the ways consumers are appropriating cultural products as well as the question whether or not these tendencies will fundamentally change the production of culture. Such debates are charged with cultural criticism, but in essence of economic nature. In addition, the cultural sector is faced with the accusation of waning societal relevance. In the arts and features sections of newspapers and magazines, journalists and essayists bemoan that pop culture is no longer ‘the voice and mirror of political and social change, like twenty or thirty years ago’. Although popular culture may have evolved from its original return and distribution strategies as well as its constitutive (at least for some) connection to youth and protest movements, a medially conveyed, market-driven culture that is accessible to a wide audience remains a characteristic feature of modern societies and their self-perceptions.
Klaus Nathaus and C. Clayton Childress convincingly argue that cultural and symbolic objects are produced before they are consumed and that therefore cultural historians should take a closer look at the social and economic conditions of cultural production. Instead of taking it for granted that mass reception inversely indicates the existence of a demand already ‘being there’, historians should dig into the production processes influenced (among others) by individual taste, material interest, and arbitrary decisions – or, as Nathaus, Childress and the often cited Richard A. Peterson would call it – contingency. While most of Nathaus and Childress’s examples stem from the field of music, I will in my response apply the cultural production concept to a non-musical field, namely documentary photography in the first half of the twentieth century. Further, I will raise some questions that still seem to be unanswered. Given that the causal relation between production and consumption by and large equals the chicken and egg problem, what sense does it make to shift attention from reception to production – especially when dealing with modifications of objects, commodities, or genres rather than inventions in the sense of ‘there was nothing like this before’? I will suggest to extend the concept beyond the study of ‘classical’ cultural objects – like novels or records – and to include commodities like food, clothes, or cars. Finally, I will raise the question of how to apply the production of culture perspective to socialist economies after 1945, which to my knowledge has not been tried yet.